Fyodor Dostoevsky Winter Notes on Summer Impressions 1862 during his first trip to France
..."What? What do you mean policemen?" I (FD) asked, astonished.
"Just that...I noticed right away you didn't realize." (Swiss traveler)
"And...they are actually spies?" (I still refused to believe it.) (FD)
"Why, of course; they got on because of us." (Swiss)
"You know this for certain?" (FD)
"Oh, there's no doubt about it! I've been through here several times before. We were pointed out to them back in customs when our passports were being read; they were given our names and so on. So they got on to accompany us." (Swiss)
"Yes, but why should they accompany us if they have already seen us? After all, you say we were pointed out to them back at the last station."
"Well, yes, and they were told our names. But that isn't much. Now they have studied us in detail: the face, dress, bags, in a word, everything about the way we look. They took note of your cuff links. You took out your cigarette case, and they noticed your cigarette case, in short, every little detail and peculiarity, every possible peculiarity. You could lose yourself in Paris; you could change your name (that is, if you were a suspicious character). Well, all of those details can be of help in tracking you down. It's all being telegraphed to Paris this very minute from that station. There it will be kept for any situation that might arise. Not only that, the hotel proprietors must report all the details about foreigners, also down to the slightest trifle."
"But why were there so many of them? After all, there were four of them," I continued to ask, still a little perplexed.
"Oh, there are a lot of them here. This time there were probably only a few foreigners; if there had been more, they would have spread out through the train car."
"Pardon me, but they didn't do so much as look at us. They were looking out the windows."
"Oh don't worry, they examined everything...They got on just for us."
"Well, well," I thought, "so this is how 'the Frenchman has no common sense'" And (I am ashamed to admit it) I squinted at the Swiss man rather distrustfully. "Perhaps you too, brother, know nothing about this but are only pretending," flashed through my head, but only for an instant, I assure you. It was absurd, but what are you going to do? Thoughts come involuntarily...
The Swiss did not deceive me. At the hotel where I was staying they immediately noted all ofmy most minute features and reported them to the proper authorities.Judging from the precision and detail with which they examine you and describe your features, you might conclude your entire subsequent life in the hotel, so to speak, your every step would be scrupulously observed and counted...
..."What? What do you mean policemen?" I (FD) asked, astonished.
"Just that...I noticed right away you didn't realize." (Swiss traveler)
"And...they are actually spies?" (I still refused to believe it.) (FD)
"Why, of course; they got on because of us." (Swiss)
"You know this for certain?" (FD)
"Oh, there's no doubt about it! I've been through here several times before. We were pointed out to them back in customs when our passports were being read; they were given our names and so on. So they got on to accompany us." (Swiss)
"Yes, but why should they accompany us if they have already seen us? After all, you say we were pointed out to them back at the last station."
"Well, yes, and they were told our names. But that isn't much. Now they have studied us in detail: the face, dress, bags, in a word, everything about the way we look. They took note of your cuff links. You took out your cigarette case, and they noticed your cigarette case, in short, every little detail and peculiarity, every possible peculiarity. You could lose yourself in Paris; you could change your name (that is, if you were a suspicious character). Well, all of those details can be of help in tracking you down. It's all being telegraphed to Paris this very minute from that station. There it will be kept for any situation that might arise. Not only that, the hotel proprietors must report all the details about foreigners, also down to the slightest trifle."
"But why were there so many of them? After all, there were four of them," I continued to ask, still a little perplexed.
"Oh, there are a lot of them here. This time there were probably only a few foreigners; if there had been more, they would have spread out through the train car."
"Pardon me, but they didn't do so much as look at us. They were looking out the windows."
"Oh don't worry, they examined everything...They got on just for us."
"Well, well," I thought, "so this is how 'the Frenchman has no common sense'" And (I am ashamed to admit it) I squinted at the Swiss man rather distrustfully. "Perhaps you too, brother, know nothing about this but are only pretending," flashed through my head, but only for an instant, I assure you. It was absurd, but what are you going to do? Thoughts come involuntarily...
The Swiss did not deceive me. At the hotel where I was staying they immediately noted all ofmy most minute features and reported them to the proper authorities.Judging from the precision and detail with which they examine you and describe your features, you might conclude your entire subsequent life in the hotel, so to speak, your every step would be scrupulously observed and counted...
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