Alexander Petrovich Goryanchikov takes over the narration. Alexander describes the prison as “an alive dead house” (8). He describes the appearance of the facility, the layout, and the schedule. Each evening, the prisoners return to their noisy, uncomfortable barracks. The most important lesson for the prisoners to learn is “patience.”

According to Alexander, there are three types of prisoners in such facilities. They are classified according to their personal backgrounds and the crimes they have committed. The prisoners rarely discuss the details of their respective crimes and “curiosity [is] not in fashion” (11). All men are united by their shared disposition. Whatever their crime, they are proud, sullen, and unshakeable. Above everything, they develop a certain kind of vanity. They never acknowledge any kind of responsibility for their crimes, much less regret for what they have done.

Though the prisoners are very alike, some are stronger than others. He tells the story of a strong prisoner who was sentenced to be whipped for a minor infraction. Since he had already been whipped many times, the more knowledgeable prisoners knew that something was different this time. He was set to resist, forming a plan to stab the overbearing major, only for his punishment to be rescinded at the last second. Alexander uses this as an example of the way men can suffer punishment for many years before eventually and unexpectedly exploding into resistance “over some small thing” (15). This informs Alexander’s opinion that prison does not reform people. Instead, prison is a system of punishment which has a destructive effect on men’s souls. Alexander does concede that some crimes are deserving of punishment, citing the example of a prisoner who violently murdered his own father. In spite of his crime, this man was always in good spirits and the other prisoners “despised him […] for his foolishness” (16).

Each day, the men labor for the prison. They resent this, yet each night the men return to their barracks and enact a different, more personal kind of labor. Without such work, a person “turns into a brute” (17). They produce items and goods which they can trade or sell. Any money they make is often spent on the vodka which is smuggled into the prison. Occasionally, the guards confiscate the prisoners’ tools or their money. Regardless, their illicit production continues and the economy is maintained. The prisoners often steal from one another—one man even unashamedly steals Alexander’s Bible. Others support themselves by relying on alms or charity.

Though the later period of his incarceration is difficult to remember, Alexander Petrovich still recalls his first days in prison with great clarity. When he first arrives, he cannot understand what is so bad about life in prison. It seems easier than he imagined and the labor does not seem overly difficult. Over time, however, he comes to understand that the labor is made hard because the prisoners have no choice. Their freedom to choose is taken from them; they are made to labor in meaningless, useless work which deprives them of purpose. Another difficult aspect is that the prisoners must live together. Regardless of their dislike for one another, they are forced to share the same space at all times.

Alexander describes his first day in the prison. Two men are about to fight; Alexander watches the men square up to one another and exchange creative insults, but then they back down. This is typical of prison life, in which confrontations are common but “almost never” lead to physical violence. Alexander, like many of the new arrivals, is targeted by the other prisoners. They play tricks on him, especially because he is part of the Russian nobility (and therefore wealthy). Noblemen have a difficult time because the common prisoners have a “dark and unfavorable” (28) view of the upper classes.

Alexander is one of four incarcerated nobles, including some Polish aristocrats and members of the Russian nobility like Alexander. He tells the story of Akim Akimych, the oddly behaved noble who managed to make himself respected and feared among the other prisoners. Alexander comes to hate Akim, whom he considers loathsome because he has “almost unlimited power over two hundred souls” (31).

During Alexander’s first days in prison, he describes how women flirted with a number of the prisoners. These women are sex workers who are occasionally solicited by those prisoners who have enough money. Such interactions occur “very rarely and with the greatest of difficulty” (33), as prisoners who wish to have sex must also bribe the guards, find a hidden place, and choose a quiet moment.

Debates and discussions over money are constant. At dinner, Alexander watches prisoners pay for their own meals, all while others try to persuade them to share their food. As he sips tea with a Polish aristocrat, Alexander unwittingly draws the attention of other prisoners. They ask to share his tea, only to be interrupted by the arrival of a boy selling kalachi, who announces that the notorious prisoner named Gazin is drunkenly starting fights.

Amid the distraction, Alexander asks the Pole why the other prisoners resent his tea-drinking. He explains that the prisoners see the tea as a symbol of the hated Russian nobility. They dislike Alexander because he is “a nobleman and not like them” (36).

Alexander Petrovich continues the story of the intoxicated Gazin, who bursts into the room where Alexander and the Polish aristocrat are. The apparent ease with which drunkenness occurs among the constantly supervised prisoners confuses him at first. He later learns that prison life is organized around work and “precious” money. Money is valued almost like freedom because having it offers a brief sense of comfort, yet it rarely remains with its owner. Money is difficult to hide from theft or confiscation during searches by the major. Even when it is kept, prisoners often spend it quickly in a deliberate attempt to forget their misery.

Alexander describes how the prisoners eventually protect their money by entrusting it to an elderly Old Believer (a distinct sect of Russian Orthodox Christianity which split from the main church in the 17th century) known as “grandpa.” The man is small, gray, and notably unlike the other prisoners. Though convicted for helping burn a church built for converts, he appears gentle, sociable, and without the vanity which is so common. He avoids arguments despite his firm beliefs; he laughs with childlike serenity and earns universal respect. Alexander hears him praying at night and quietly weeping over the children he expects never to see again. The prisoners, though largely thieves themselves, believe grandpa “simply [cannot] steal” (39), and he hides their money in a concealed hollow behind a removable knot in a wooden post.

Alexander then explains the nature of prison spending. Some men labor for months and then squander everything in a single day, often on feast days or name days (i.e., the day of one’s patron saint). They buy civilian clothes, dress up, show themselves off, and arrange a private meal. Vodka becomes the focus of their revelry; drunkenness is treated with deference. A Polish prisoner who plays the fiddle is hired to follow the reveler, playing on command. The barrack collectively protects the drunk man, restraining him if needed and hiding him if authorities appear. The lower prison authorities tolerate these sprees because suppressing vodka would lead to worse disorder.

Vodka enters the prison through an organized trade run by “taverners.” A successful taverner becomes an entrepreneur who employs smugglers. Outside suppliers buy vodka, test it, and dilute it. Smugglers carry it back in bulls’ guts tied to their bodies, relying on concealment and sometimes bribery at the gate. If caught, the vodka is confiscated and the smuggler is whipped. He does not inform on the entrepreneur because it offers no advantage. Informing, however, is described as common and not socially condemned. Once inside, the vodka is further diluted and sold at inflated prices. A prisoner saves for months to buy vodka. He drinks until his money is gone, then pawns his possessions, including eventually government-issued items, to buy more alcohol. After sleeping off his drunkenness and suffering the aftermath, he returns to work and begins saving so that he can do the same thing all over again.

Alexander introduces Sirotkin, a young prisoner with a gentle appearance and a vague, childlike manner. He is in the special section as a serious military criminal, yet he does not drink or gamble, rarely quarrels, and spends small sums on sweets rather than necessities. While in the hospital, he tells Alexander that he could not endure military life. He killed his company commander after a failed attempt to shoot himself on guard duty. Alexander promises to return to this story in the future, “if circumstances permit” (46).

The narrative returns to Gazin, a strong Tatar with a frightening reputation. He is prosperous as a vodka trader and usually quiet when sober. When drunk, however, he becomes violently aggressive. The prisoners manage him by beating him until he is unconscious, after which he recovers and returns to work. In the kitchen, he targets Alexander and his companion, mocking their tea and money. He raises a large tray as if to strike them while the other prisoners watch in silence, their hostility toward the newcomers apparent. The threat ends only when someone shouts that Gazin’s vodka has been “stolen,” prompting him to rush out.

That evening, Alexander walks by the fence and feels “a heavy sadness” fall upon him (49). He is preoccupied by the unequal moral weight of crimes that can receive similar sentences and by the unequal inner consequences of punishment. One prisoner is destroyed by conscience, while another feels no remorse, or even experiences hard labor as easier and more secure than life outside. The drum sounds and the prisoners return to the barracks.

After the head count, the barracks are locked and the prisoners remain shut in until daybreak. The head count is repeated until the guards arrive at the expected number. Once the door is locked, the crowded barrack settles into its night routine. About 30 men lie packed on bunks and most begin occupying themselves. Inside, only the “invalid” guard remains, and he keeps to himself.

The senior prisoner is Akim Akimych, who has been chosen by the major for good conduct. Akim Akimych shouts at the other prisoners, who often respond with mockery. Alexander observes that senior prisoners are frequently demoted and whipped if caught in wrongdoing, suggesting the position carries little real moral authority. The invalid, by contrast, avoids interfering and attracts little attention.

Alexander reflects on how non-prisoners who deal with convicts tend to fear them, as if expecting an attack at any moment. The prisoners recognize that fear and sometimes display bravado because of it, yet they respond best to a superior who is not afraid. Trust can win them over, and a fearless visitor who enters the prison without escort earns respect. He distinguishes between sentenced convicts, who tend to avoid actions that would bring investigations and harsher rules, and prisoners awaiting judgment, who may attack out of calculation to postpone punishment. He recounts the case of Dutov, a braggart and cowardly former soldier. Facing a severe punishment, Dutov attacks an officer with a knife. He does not want to kill or even wound the officer, but to create a new charge and delay the “terrible moment of punishment” (53).

Alexander describes the dread prisoners feel before corporal punishment. Some attempt an awkward bravado, while others seek refuge in the hospital to postpone the day. Vodka is commonly secured for those awaiting punishment because prisoners believe intoxication dulls pain. One condemned young murderer drinks vodka infused with snuff, becomes violently ill, vomits blood, is sent to the hospital, and later dies of consumption. The doctors do not know what caused the decline.

Alexander contrasts such fear with examples of “extraordinary fearlessness.” He describes the brigand Orlov, a runaway soldier guilty of multiple murders who is sentenced to run the gauntlet. After a brutal session that leaves his back swollen and bruised, Orlov is brought to the hospital nearly unconscious. Other prisoners nurse him through the night with unusual care. The next day, he is recovering rapidly and focused only on completing the remaining punishment so he can be sent toward Nerchinsk and make his escape. Alexander studies him for a week and is struck by his control, calm, and haughtiness, and by his contempt for any appeal to conscience. Orlov speaks frankly, laughs easily, and shakes Alexander’s hand at parting as he is led out again.

Once the barrack is locked for the night, the prisoners relax, light candles, and begin their private work. In a corner, gamblers gather around their filthy cards, a setup known as a maidan. The keeper takes a fee, and a hired servant stands watch in the entryway for hours in freezing darkness to warn of late-night inspections. Alexander notes how prison employers demand strict service for minimal pay and often cheat those they hire.

He describes Akim Akimych working methodically at making multicolored Chinese lanterns for town, then praying and arranging his bedding. Alexander dislikes Akim immediately and is puzzled that such a man ends up in prison. He begins to catalogue the barrack’s inhabitants. Nearby is a group of Caucasian mountaineers, including Lezgins, a Chechen, and Daghestani Tatars. The Chechen is silent and hostile, while a Lezgin named Nurra is cheerful and respected for honesty and devotion. Nurra repeatedly pats Alexander on the shoulder to show sympathy and protection during his first days.

Alei, the youngest of three Daghestani brothers, sleeps beside Goryanchikov. Alei is gentle, intelligent, and tactful, imprisoned for taking part with his brothers in a robbery that ended in murder. His brothers treat him with protective affection. On a Muslim holy day, Alei speaks of home and his mother and sister with visible anguish. Over time, he grows attached to Alexander, helps him, and works diligently. Alexander offers to teach him to read and write Russian. Alei learns quickly. His brothers are pleased and grateful; their attitude toward Alexander softens. When Alei later leaves the prison, he embraces Alexander and weeps, thanking him for what he has done for him. Alexander is left to wonder “where is [Alei] now?” (61).

Alexander notes that a separate group of six Poles keep apart from the others and are disliked for their hostility. The Poles associate most with Isai Fomich, the barrack’s only Jewish resident, who is laughed at by everyone but also generally liked. Isai Fomich is a jeweler and moneylender who has been branded for his crimes. He has a remedy he believes will erase the branding marks after his term because otherwise it will be “impossible” (65) to marry. The remaining prisoners include Old Believers, Ukrainians, counterfeiters, and several grim men who seem determined to scowl in silence for years. Surrounded by smoke, filth, cynicism, and clanking fetters, Alexander lies down on the bare bunk, exhausted and unable to sleep, aware that his new life has only begun.

Three days after arriving at the prison, Alexander is ordered to go out to work. Nothing exceptional occurs on this first workday, yet it remains “very memorable” to him because it belongs to the first sequence of impressions in which he watches everything with heightened attention.

During the first three days, he is absorbed by the repeated realization that his wandering has ended and that this prison camp will be his refuge for years. He experiences a painful mixture of dread and a perverse impulse to dwell on his own misfortune, even imagining with horror that one day he might grow accustomed enough to regret leaving. The convicts’ sharp scrutiny of him as a newcomer and a nobleman—and their increased harshness that sometimes approaches hatred—intensifies his distress. He wants to begin work quickly in order to submit to the routine and learn the full measure of his new life at once. At the same time, he recognizes, even if only vaguely at first, that alongside hostility there are sources of comfort he has not yet learned to notice. A few mild, affable individuals encourage him, and Akim Akimych is the most consistently helpful toward him during these days.

Akim Akimych advises Alexander to hire a private cook if he has money. He recommends Osip, one of the kitchen workers who do not go out to labor. Osip, though originally imprisoned for contraband, is described as unusually honest and meek. He is fearful of punishment and rarely risks much, yet he is repeatedly drawn back into vodka smuggling. Alexander pays to have Osip cook him simple food, mainly fried beef. Osip remains difficult to converse with and answers briefly, leaving Alexander struck by his strength and childish simplicity.

Another convict, Sushilov, attaches himself to Alexander without being asked and begins to manage his daily needs. He launders clothing over the cesspit behind the barracks, prepares tea, runs errands, finds repairs, and tars boots regularly. He speaks of Alexander’s belongings as shared property, referring to a jacket as “our jacket,” and tries to anticipate Alexander’s needs. He seems suited by nature to servile tasks and depends on small payments, yet his attachment is emotional as well as practical. Alexander explains that Sushilov resembles the class of perpetual destitute helpers in prison life, men who stand watch for gamblers in freezing entryways for minimal pay and bear the risk with their bodies if anything goes wrong.

Sushilov is laughed at for having “exchanged” names on the road to Siberia. Alexander describes the practice of exchanging identities. A heavily sentenced man persuades a simpler, downtrodden prisoner with a lighter sentence to swap names, paying him in money and gifts, often supported by vodka and pressure from the group. At roll call, the two answer to each other’s names. When the party is sorted later, the roles reverse. The man with the serious sentence goes to a settlement, while the other is sent under stronger convoy to the special section. The group protects the custom because breaking the deal would undermine future exchanges. Sushilov is mocked for exchanging sentences for a paltry sum.

Years later, Alexander wounds Sushilov with a misconceived reproach. Sushilov completes the errand and then becomes withdrawn. When Alexander offers him money to settle a small debt, Sushilov breaks down behind the barracks, sobbing and protesting that his service is not merely for payment. Alexander comforts him but senses the injury remains. He reflects that his early judgments are distorted by prominent, oppressive features of prison life, and that he often fails to perceive what seems close at hand.

Alexander shares another story of an unnamed prisoner who endeared himself to the major to avoid work, pretending for years to paint the major’s portrait, only to be severely punished when the major realized that he was not working on the painting at all. Alexander ends by emphasizing the power of money in hard labor, arguing that even small private funds ease suffering because they allow a prisoner a moment of self-will, an imitation of freedom.