Mikhail Zoshchenko, The Adventures of a Monkey. 1945
Original Source: First published in the children’s magazine Murzilka in 1945, reported by Zvezda in 1947.
In a certain town in the south there was a zoo. A rather small zoo, which contained one tiger, two crocodiles, three snakes, a zebra, an ostrich, and one monkey, known as “Monk” for short. And, of course, various small fry-birds, fishes, frogs, and other lightweight members of the animal kingdom.
At the beginning of the war, when the fascists were bombing this town, a bomb fell right into the zoo. And there it exploded, with an enormous, deafening crash. To the amazement of all the animals.
The three snakes were killed-all at once, which may not seem like such a heavy loss. And, unfortunately, the ostrich.
The other animals were unharmed. As we say, they .got off with only a scare.
Of all the animals, Monk the monkey was the most terrified. His cage was overturned by the blast. It fell from its height. The side wall broke. And our monkey fell out of the cage and right onto one of the zoo paths.
He fell onto the path, but didn’t remain lying motionless there like the human beings, who bad grown accustomed to the circumstances of war. just the opposite. He climbed up a tree at once. From there he jumped onto a fence. From the fence into the street. And ran away like a streak.
He ran and probably thought, Hub, I don’t go along with their dropping bombs here. And that meant he ran along the city streets as fast as he could.
He ran through the whole town. He ran out onto the highway. And he ran along this highway straight out of the town. Well, he was a monkey. Not a human being. Didn’t know what was what. Didn’t see any sense in staying in this town.
He ran and ran until he was tired. Completely exhausted. He climbed a tree. Ate a fly to fortify his energy. Also a couple of worms. And fell asleep on the branch, right where he sat.
Just at that time a military vehicle was coming along the road. The driver saw the monkey in the tree. He was astonished. Very softly he crept up to him. Threw his overcoat over him. And put him in his car. He thought, I’d better give him to someone I know; why should he die here of hunger, cold, and other privations? And so he rode away with the monkey.
He came to the town of Borisov. He went about his official duties. And left Monk in his car. He said to him, “Wait for me here, chum. I’ll be right back.”
But our Monk didn’t wait. He climbed out of the car through a broken window and went gallivanting around the streets.
And now he goes marching along the street like a prince, strutting, taking a walk with his tail in the air. The people, of course, are astonished, and want to catch him. But catching him isn’t so very easy. He is lively and agile and runs fast on his four hands. So they didn’t catch him, but only wore him out with futile running.
He was tired out and, naturally, felt hungry.
But where could he get something to eat in the town? There was nothing very edible in the streets. And with his tail, he couldn’t go into a restaurant. Or a co-operative grocery. And besides, he had no money. No reduced rates. He didn’t have any ration cards. It was nightmarish.
He went into the co-operative anyway. He sensed that they had something or other in there. And there they were giving out vegetables to the populace: carrots, turnips, and cucumbers.
He popped into the store. And be saw a long line. No, be wasn’t going to stand in line. But he didn’t start shoving people to get up to the counter. He ran to the salesgirl right along the customers’ heads. And jumped onto the counter. He didn’t ask how much a kilo of carrots cost. And then, as we say, he was off. He ran out of the store, pleased with his purchase. After all, he was a monkey. He didn’t know what was what. Didn’t see the sense of remaining without provisions.
Of course, in the store there arose an uproar, hubbub, upheaval. The crowd began to shout. The salesgirl, who was weighing some turnips, almost fainted from the shock. And it’s true, you can really get scared if instead of a regular normal customer something kind of furry and with a tail hops in. And, on top of that, doesn’t pay.
The crowd dashed into the street after the monkey. And he ran along, chewing on his carrot, having breakfast. He didn’t know what was going on.
Some boys ran ahead of everyone. After them came the grownups. A militiaman ran behind them, blowing his whistle.
Suddenly a dog darted out from somewhere. And it too ran after our Monk. It not only yelped and barked, but straight off set about catching the monkey in its teeth.
Our Monk ran faster. He ran and probably thought, Eh, I should never have left that zoo. I could breathe easier in my cage. I’ll certainly go back to the zoo the first chance I get.
And he ran as fast as he could, but the dog didn’t fall behind and was within a hair’s breadth of catching him.
Then our monkey hopped up on some kind of fence. And when the dog jumped up to catch the monkey, by the leg if nothing else, the monkey hit the dog on the nose with the carrot with all his might. And he hit so hard that the dog squealed and ran home with its injured nose. It probably thought, No, citizens, I’d better lie quietly at home instead of catching monkeys for you and undergoing such unpleasantness.
In short, the dog ran away, and our monkey jumped into a back yard.
And in the yard at this time, a certain teen-age boy named Alyosha Popov was splitting firewood.
So he was splitting firewood, and suddenly he saw a monkey. He was very fond of monkeys. All his life he had dreamed of having a monkey like this for himself. And suddenly-there was a monkey, if you please!
Alyosha took off his jacket and threw it over Monk, who had backed into a comer of the stairs.
The boy took him home. Fed him. Gave him tea to, drink. And the monkey was very pleased. But not completely. Because Alyosha’s grandmother took a dislike to him at once. She yelled at Monk and even wanted to slap his paws. All because, while they were drinking tea and the grandmother put a half-eaten piece of candy on her saucer, the monkey had grabbed Grandmother’s piece of candy and crammed it into his mouth. Well, he was only a monkey. Not a human being. A human being, if be took something, wouldn’t do it right under Grandmother’s nose. But the monkey did it right in Grandmother’s presence. And, of course, almost made her cry.
Grandmother said, “In general, it’s really very unpleasant when some kind of macaque with a tail lives in your apartment. He’ll keep scaring me with his inhuman appearance. He’ll jump on me in the dark. Eat my candy. No, I categorically refuse to live in the same apartment with a monkey. One of us will have to live at the zoo. Do I really have to be the one to move to the zoo? No, it would be better if be lived there. And I’ll go on living in my apartment.”
Alyosha said to his grandmother, “No, Grandmother, you don’t have to move to the zoo. I guarantee that Monk won’t eat anything of yours any more. I’ll educate him like a human being. I’ll teach him to eat with a spoon. And drink tea from a glass. As far as jumping goes, I can’t forbid him to climb on the lamp that hangs from the ceiling. From there, of course, he can jump down on your head. But the important thing is for you not to get scared when that happens. Because he’s only a harmless monkey who got used to jumping and leaping in Africa.”
The next day Alyosha went off to school. And he asked his grandmother to keep an eye on the monkey. But Grandmother had no intention of keeping an eye on him. She thought, That’s all I need, to look after all kinds of monsters. And with these thoughts Grandmother up and fell asleep in her armchair on purpose.
Then our monkey crawled out on the street through an open ventilator in the window. And set off for a walk along the sunny side. It’s not clear whether he wanted to take the air, or whether be bad decided to stop in at the store again to buy himself something. Not for money, but just like that.
Now at this time a certain old man was walking along the street. The retired soldier Gavrilich. He was going to the public bath. And he was carrying in his arms a small basket, which contained soap and clean underwear.
He saw the monkey and at first didn’t believe his eyes that it was a monkey. He thought he was seeing things, since he had just bad a mug of beer.
He looked at the monkey in astonishment. And the monkey looked at him. Maybe he thought, What kind of a scarecrow carrying a basket is that?
Gavrilich finally realized that it was a real monkey and not an imaginary one. Then he thought, Why don’t I just catch him? I’ll take him to the market tomorrow and sell him for a hundred rubles. And with that money I’ll drink ten mugs of beer in a row.
With these thoughts, he began trying to catch the monkey, saying persuasively, “Here, puss, PUSS, puss, come here.”
Well, he knew that Monk wasn’t a cat, but he didn’t know in what language to address him. And he realized only later that this was the highest member of the animal kingdom. Then he took a piece of sugar out of his pocket, showed it to the monkey, and said to him, bowing, “Noble Monk, wouldn’t you care to partake of a little piece of sugar?”
Monk replied, “Thank you, I would” That is, he really didn’t say anything, because he didn’t know how to talk. But he came up, grabbed the piece of sugar, and began to eat it.
Gavrilich picked him up and put him in his basket. In the basket it was warm and cozy. Our Monk didn’t try to jump out. Perhaps he thought, I’ll let this old blockhead carry me along in his basket for a while. It’s even interesting.
At first Gavrilich thought he would take him home. But then be didn’t feel like going back home, and he went to the public bath with the monkey. He thought, It’ll be even better if I take him along to the bath. I’ll wash him there. He’ll be clean and nice. I’ll tie a bow around his neck. And they’ll give me more for him at the market.
So he came to the bath with his monkey and began taking a bath with him.
It was very warm and humid in the bathhouse-just like in Africa. Our monkey was very pleased with this warm atmosphere. But not completely. Because Gavrilich soaped him and some soap got in his mouth. Of course, it doesn’t taste good, but it’s not bad enough to make you cry out, scratch, and refuse to be washed. Anyhow, our monkey tried to spit it out, but then some soap got in his eyes. This drove Monk completely crazy. He bit Gavrilich an the finger, tore himself from his grasp, and dashed like a streak out of the bath.
He leaped out into the room where people were undressing. And there he frightened everyone. Why, no one knew that it was a monkey. They saw something round, white, and covered with soapsuds pop out. First it bounded onto a sofa. Then onto the stove. From the stove to a box, From the box to someone’s bead. And back to the stove again.
Certain nervous visitors started screaming and began to run out of the bath. Our monkey ran out too. And went down the stairs.
Now downstairs there was a cashier’s booth with a little window. The monkey jumped in through that little window, thinking it would be more peaceful in there and, most important, there wouldn’t be such bustling and shoving. But in the booth there sat a fat lady cashier who gasped and began to squeal. And rushed out of her booth crying, “Help! I think a bomb has fallen into my booth! Get me some valerian drops!”
Our Monk was tired of all these shouts. He jumped out of the cashier’s booth and ran along the street.
There he was, running along the street, all wet, covered with soapsuds, and again people were running after him. The boys in front. Behind them the grownups. Behind the grownups a militiaman. And behind the militiaman our aged Gavrilich with his clothes on every which way and carrying his boots in his band.
At this point a dog again jumped out from somewhere or other-the same dog which bad chased the monkey the day before.
Seeing it, our Monk thought, Well, citizens, now I’m really done for.
But this time the dog didn’t chase him. The dog just looked at the running monkey, felt a severe pain in its nose, and didn’t start running. It even turned away. It must have thought, Running after monkeys won’t leave you any nose for your old age. But although it turned away, it gave an angry bark, as if to say, Go ahead and run, but remember that I’m here.
At this time our boy, Alyosha Popov, came home from school and didn’t find his beloved monkey. He felt very bad. His eyes even filled with tears. He thought that now he’d never see his wonderful, beloved little monkey again.
And so, out of sadness and loneliness, be went out on the street. He was walking along the street looking very melancholy. Suddenly he saw people running. No, at first he didn’t think they were running after his monkey He thought they were running on account of an -air attack. But then be saw his little monkey-all wet and covered with soap. He ran up to him. He took him in his anus. And he hugged him close to him so as not to let anyone else have him.
All the people stopped running and surrounded the boy.
But then our aged Gavrilich stepped out from the crowd. Showing everyone his bitten finger, be said, “Citizens, don’t let this young whippersnapper pick up my monkey, which I want to sell at the market tomorrow. It’s my own monkey, which bit me on the finger. Look at this swollen finger of mine, everyone. It proves that I’m telling, the truth.”
The boy, Alyosha Popov, said, “No, this isn’t his monkey, it’s my monkey. Look how eagerly he let me pick him up. That proves that I’m telling the truth.”
Now another man stepped out of the crowd-the driver who had brought the monkey here in his car. He said, “No it’s not your monkey, or yours either. It’s my monkey, because I brought him here. But now I’m going back to my outfit, and for that reason I give the monkey to the person who is holding him lovingly in his arms, and not to the hard-hearted person who wants to sell him in the market place for drink. The monkey belongs to the boy.”
The entire crowd applauded. And Alyosha Popov, beaming with happiness, hugged the monkey even closer to him. And triumphantly carried him home.
Gavrilich went back to the bathhouse with his bitten finger to finish his bath.
And from that time the monkey lived with the boy, Alyosha Popov. He is still living with him today. I recently took a trip to see the town of Borisov. I purposely stopped in at Alyosha’s to see how Monk was getting along. Oh, he is getting along fine! He doesn’t run away anywhere. He has become very obedient. He wipes his nose with a handkerchief. And doesn’t take other people’s candy. So that Grandmother is very pleased now, doesn’t get angry at him, and no longer wants to move to the zoo.
When I went into Alyosha’s room the monkey was sitting at the table. He sat there looking very important, like a cashier in a movie theater. And he was eating rice cereal with a teaspoon.
Alyosha said to me, ‘I have brought him up like a human being, and now he sets a good example for all children and even for some grownups.”
Source: Mikhail Zoshchenko, Nervous People (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1963), pp. 124-126.