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Home , Constance Garnett, On the Eve, Rudin, Virgin Soil

Translated by УДК 372.8 ББК 84(2Рос=Рус) 81.2 Англ Т 87

Тургенев И. С. Т 87 Ася: пер. с рус. К. Гарнетт. — СПб.: КАРО, 2014. — 224 с.: — (Русская классическая литера- тура на иностранных языках).

ISBN 978-5-9925-0981-6.

Вашему вниманию предлагается перевод двух из- вест нейших лирических повестей знаменитого писателя И. С. Тургенева — «Ася» и «Первая любовь», объединенных темой воспоминаний о юношеской любви. Тургенев — не- превзойденный мастер трагичных и поэтических историй о стремлении к счастью и невозможности его достижения. Английский перевод повестей, выполненный Констанс Гарнетт, снабжен постраничными, в большей степени куль- турологическими, комментариями. Книга адресована сту- дентам языковых вузов, носителям языка и всем любителям русской классической литературы. УДК 372.8 ББК 81.2 Англ

ISBN 978-5-9925-0981-6 © КАРО, 2014 ACIA by

Translated by Constance Garnett

This edition contains two best-known lyrical stories by the fa- mous Russian writer Ivan Turgenev — “Acia” and “,” con- nected by a common subject — the memoirs of young love. Turgenev is an inimitable master of tragic and poetical stories about pursuit of in love and inability to achieve it. The English translation of the stories made by Constance Gar- nett is complemented with footnotes. The book may be of interest to the University or College students who study English, the native Eng- lish speakers and everyone who admires Russian Classic Literature. The Life and Works of Ivan Turgenev

Ivan Sergeyevich Turgenev is a famous Russian writer. Called “the novelist’s novelist” by Henry James, Ivan Turgenev was actually the fi rst Russian author to achieve widespread international fame. Although he was originally linked with and as a member of the triumvirate of the greatest Russian novelists of the nineteenth century, Turgenev’s reputation began to diminish during the course of the twentieth century. Turgenev was born in 1818 in a city called Orel in a noble family. Turgenev spent most of his childhood in the family estate and was taught by private tutors. Th e future writer learned not only the usual school subjects, he learned also to feel the nature — and to despise serfdom. Th ese two themes later became the main ones in his works. Turgenev enrolled at the University in 1833. Before a year had passed he transferred to the

4 characters?” question: a “How with am Idifferent from these strange Russian soul but to inside look also ourselves it gives more chances to understand not only the logically rich writing isalways interesting to read — connected to heroes the of hisworks. Such apsycho- descriptions,these Turgenev makes hisreaders feel to serfdom, nor without hisdescriptions of nature. By imagine Turgenev’s neither without books hisattitude ofset peasant sketches in1852.It isimpossible to Sketches”, collected and fi early inhiscareer serfs the with “Aing Sportsman’s Turgenev’s. 1857 Pauline Viardot gave to birth achild, allegedly asmuchspending timeinEurope asinRussia, and in of time. By mid-1850’s,periods the hehadbeen for hewould sake whose oft he would remain devoted to for rest the of hislife and of Pauline Viardot, asophisticated French singer whom of Interior Ministry the and acquaintance madethe also Enlightenment. In 1843,heaccepted aminor at post itself by incorporating from ideas Age the of returned home that believing Russia could improve best Turgenev wasimpressed and by society German espe cial ly inGermany, and studied chiefl in 1837. St. Petersburg University, from whichhegraduated Turgenev hadhinted at of theme the emancipat- Turgenev travelled for some timeinEurope, rst published asacomplete en stay abroad for long y philo sophy.

5 THE LIFE AND WORKS OF IVAN TURGENEV During the period of 1853–1862 Turgenev wrote some of his fi nest stories and novellas and the fi rst four of his six : “” (1856), “A Nest of Gentlefolk” (1859), “” (1860) and “” (1862). Th e central themes of these works were (except social problems) the beauty of early love, failure to reach one’s dreams, and frustrated love, which partly reflected the author’s lifelong passion for Pauline Viardot. Love was a secondary theme in “Fathers and Sons”, Turgenev’s most famous revealing the “generation gap.” In 1863, Turgenev was summoned to answer charges of having aided a London group of expatriates, but was soon exonerated, bought land in Baden near the Viardots’ estate and settled there. In 1869, he ran into fi nancial diffi culties and had to sell his newly built villa, but remained there as a tenant while he prepared THE LIFE AND WORKS OF IVAN TURGENEV an edition of his collected works. During the next ten years, Turgenev worked on his novel, “,” and several plays, spending time in Baden, Paris, Great Britain, and Russia. In 1879, his brother Nikolai had died, and upon Turgenev’s arrival in Moscow he discovered that he was celebrated by the liberals. Th is same year he received an honorary degree from Oxford University and began to prepare another collection of his works. At the end of 1870s — beginning of 1880s the popularity of Turgenev’s books grew really fast, partly because of his so-called “mystic stories.”

6 Aft er a long illness the writer died in France on September 3, 1883. The year before his death, he published a book of what he called “an old man’s jottings” under the title of “Poems in Prose.”

*** Th e theme of love was not alien to Turgenev. But love in his books is always unrequited, it always has too much barriers on its way — and even his love stories are aff ected by the theme of serfdom. Turgenev has been working on “Acia” from July till November of 1857. Such a slow rate can be explained by writer’s illness. As Turgenev himself said, he devised a story aft er seeing a following scene in a German town: an old woman, looking from the window on the ground fl oor, and a head of a young girl in the window above. Turgenev tried to imagine the life of these people, and that’s how “Acia” was born. THE LIFE AND WORKS OF IVAN TURGENEV Th e prototypes of the heroes of “Acia” are probably Turgenev and his illegitimate daughter Polina Bruer, who was exactly in the same situation as Acia: daughter of a nobleman and a serf, she entered the world of the nobility unexpectedly and felt like a stranger in it. Another prototype of Acia could be Turgenev’s illegitimate sister. Th e novel had been translated into diff erent lan- guages during the lifetime of Turgenev but he wasn’t satisfi ed with these translations, so he made his own translation into French.

7 THE LIFE AND WORKS OF IVAN TURGENEV Turgenev’s stories are still essential. and love bumps into diff differences classes still between social take place, that. Ihave nothing to conceal.” kept it back. But there’s Ithink nothing wrong with blamed mefor that, for especially that fact the Inever embroidery, Idelineated my father. Lots of people “I depicted arealabout event story: without this any called“Firsthis story love” (1860).Turgenev wrote fell inlove himself, and aff this with princess Shakhovskaya, with whom young Ivan most impressing memories washisfather’s relationship childhood’s thoughts, feelings, and Oneof ideas. the Serfdom doesn’tSerfdom existanymore inRussia, but Lots of Turgenev’s works are reflections of his erent barriers. Th ection wasrefl at is why why is at ected ected in ACIA

I

At that time I was five-and-twenty, began N. N., — the deeds of ages long gone by1, as you perceive. I had only just gained my freedom and gone abroad, not to “fi nish my education,” as the phrase was in those days; I simply wanted to have a look at God’s world. I was young, and in good health and spirits, and had plenty of money. Troubles had not yet had time to gather about me. I existed without thought, did as I liked, lived like the lilies of the fi eld, in fact. It never occurred to me in those days that man is not a plant, and cannot go on living like one for long. Youth will

1 Th e deeds of ages long gone by — a quotation from the epic fairy tale poem by (1799–1837) “Ruslan and Ludmila” (1818–1820), the beginning of the fi rst canto. 9 10 IVAN TURGENEV shouting others when shouted, and at same the comfort. I enjoyed going where others went, a crowd Ialways feeling hadaspecial of and ease that waswhat wasabsolutely to me. In necessary faces —people’s and talk, gesture, and laughter — force itself upon me. But faces,living human and waterfalls; Ididnot like nature to obtrude, to nature, extraordinary mountains, precipices, but Ididnot care for beauties so-called the of “Grüne-Gewölbe.” Iwasalmostdrivenanger; Dresden crazyinthe guide produced of inmeasense weariness and and museums sight of of very the curiosities, a exclusively;people Ihated famous monuments faces —faces,nothing Iwas interested else. in went on again directly Ifelt adesire new to see plan; Istopped wherever Iliked place, the and though. bread There’s even. noneedto go into that, but timecomes the you’re when inwant of dry eat gilt gingerbread and its fancy daily bread too; chambers inEurope. inDresden, Germany.seum One of richest the treasure 1 I travelled without any of sort aim, without a Grüne-Gewölbe Grüne-Gewölbe 1 Nature aff Nature — ( German ected meextremely,ected Green Vault) amu- directly aft most of all, for its excellent wine. In evening, the little clear stream that fallsinto and, Rhine, the its ancient lime-trees, its steep bridge over the slope of two hills,its wallsand high ruined towers, at Z. fi up for atimeto and gloom solitude —youth will deep one; but Ithought it my duty to give myself owned,be wound the to my wasnot heart avery me for ared-faced Bavarian lieutenant. It must on wounded shecruelly my feelings, sacrifi fi one —with me,with too, every sinner. poor At prettyplace. She wasvery and clever, and fl whom Ihadmadeacquaintance at awatering- by to heart the stabbed ayoung widow, with solitude; Iwasseeking Rhine. I had just been little town German Z.,on left the diverging again. ofa sort delighted, ever-eager curiosity. But Iam even watch —Isimply them stared at with them amused meto watch people… though Ididn’t time Iliked to at look others the shouting. It nd amusement inanything! —and Isettled so rst shehadpositively encouraged me, but later I liked little the town for its situation on the twentyAnd so years ago Iwasstaying in the (iter sunset was June), pretty very bank of the irted irted cing 11 ACIA 12 IVAN TURGENEV good-natured doggave asubdued growl, while night watchman broke suddenly on silence, the a cornered market place;drowsy the of the whistle shadebythe old-fashioned the well three- in the from stone behind walls;something fl outthrust mysteriously twining their tendrils windows slate underthe roofs; branches of vine thrift of stream; the isa slendercandles German (the sheen glimmered inwaves over black the surface bell-tower apale gold, gleamed same the gold exciting to the soul. Th lightmoonlight, isyet thatwhich soft peaceful and quiet and stood attentive, bathed inthe and town the wasawaresky; of steady gaze, this to keep asteady watchseemed on it from clear the wandering about town the at that moon time;the could bedistinctly seeninits still beams. Iliked houses, and tiny the stones that paved street the pointed the behind had risen roofs of old the of didnot them go moon home the when even agreeable voices on meeting astranger, —some narrow streets and articulate “ fl axen-haired to walkabout girlsused German its 1 guten Abendguten narrow inthe modestly y soul!) twinkled

— ( German e cock on ecock Gothic tall the ) good evening ) good guten Abend itted into itted ” 1 in ly ly A waltz played was being town in the of L. Th sounds of music drift by, swelling and faintly rumbling. Allof asudden slightly dimpling sails; greenish the waters glided upwards. Sailing-boats moved slowly by with pulled ashore, and turned with its tarred bottom scrambling up sidesof the aboat that hadbeen yards. In front of mefl ite seat, gazing at sky, the river, the and vine- the quarters. Oneevening Iwassitting on my favour- larger than thatwhat up Ihadtaken inwhich my bank of river the little wasthe town L.,some- branchesthe of ash-tree. the opposite Onthe swords, mournfully out on peeped her bosom, of almost childish faceand ared pierced heart, with widow. Alittle statue of aMadonna, with an not without some mental eff stone-seat underahuge ash-tree, musing, solitary majestic river, and would long spend hours on a oft Iused Rhine. the on lips. the “Gretchen” hung, halfexclamation, halfquestion, and breathsin deeper deeper of it, and name the smelt sweet that so unconsciously lungs the drew airthe simply caressed face, the and lime-trees the Th elittle town of Z.liesamileand ahalffrom ed across to me;Ilistened. en to walkto look at the axen-headed were ort, on faithless the e 13 ACIA 14 IVAN TURGENEV one district or brotherhood brotherhood or district one atsort, students which meettogether are who of a over by their seniortheir member, by over and keep up they students generally assemble to adinner, presided with bands round of them colours. certain Th Hungarian jackets, big and boots, little caps, time-honouredthe costume of students: German take partAlmost allwho inthe ferryman, and wentferryman, over to other the side. “I’ve over been never to L.either.” Isought out a students come over from B. to a from one corner of hismouth to other, the the “is ings, and with buckles. shoes came up to me, inaplush waistcoat, blue stock- fl the then, the fi double spasmodically, bassboomed sound the of Kommersch Every one,Every perhaps, may not know what such “I’ll have at alook this “Th “What’s Iinquired that?” of an old man who ddle fl ddle at,” hereplied, aft ute wastootling briskly. oated across now indistinctly and is.It festival isasolemn of aspecial II er fi Kommersch rst shift rst (Landsmannschaft Kommersch Kommersch ing hispipe ,” Ithought. wear wear .” e ) . an orchestra. and hire reviling they Philistines.Sometimes the songs, “ the festivities tillmorning —drinking, singing me and me. stirred forward simple-hearted —the freedom moved pushing forward —anywhere, long so asit’s joyous eff sweetestthe laughter world inthe —allthis fi the exclamations, innocent the aff watching students’ the embraces, faces;their mingled crowdI too inthe of spectators. Ienjoyed L. could not letslip achance of staring at visitors. before low the garden worthy wall;the citizens of manyA good people hadcollected street, inthe continually invigorating themselves with beer. were musicians, the playing away zealo usly, and tables;the on one side, inan ivy-covered arbour, lime-trees; ahuge bull-dog waslying underone of students were sitting at tables pollard underthe overflying innand the over garden; the the gardenthe looking on to street. the Flagswere front of alittle inn,with signof the Sun, the in Just sucha “Couldn’t Iwaswondering… Ijoin them?” glances, laughter the ery without cause — Landesvater ervescence of young,ervescence fresh life, eager this Kommersch ”“ ,” Gaudeamus wasgoing on inL., ectations of youth, youth, of ectations ,” etc., smoking, 15 ACIA 16 IVAN TURGENEV the truth, Iwas not truth, the eager with to make friends before atweek L.,and wasstaying on there. To tell me, for hisamusement; that hehadarrived a tion. Ifound out that Gaginwastravelling, like ask?” an instant, “my sister. What isyour name, may I name’s Gagin,and ismy this —” hehesitated for much better. the meintroduce Let myself. My place,” Iwasbeginning… lips. upperthe part of herface. tall, wearing astrawvery hat, which concealed all jacket.short He hadon hisarm ayoung girl, not handsome young man cap inapeaked and aloose voice, awoman’s, same language. inthe me. man’s voice say suddenly, inRussian, just behind I told himmy name, and we got into conversa- “Nor didwe,” heinterrupted me. “Well, so “I insuch an expected… never out of way the “Yes, we are Russians.” Th “You are Russians,” fell involuntarily from my I turned quickly round… My eyesfell on a “Let’s stay alittle longer,” answered another “Acia, have you hadenough of Iheard it?” a eyoung man smiledand answered: something individual, characteristic lines inthe me at fi the he wassmiling! you could tell by mere the sound of hisvoice that such away that ifyou even hisface, didnot see soft large Gagin hadjust such aface—sweet and kind, with warmedthough or one they soothed insome way. happy one to at look isglad as them, every sort; Gagin at once. Th blankness. Yes, Iavoided Russians; but Iliked physiognomy, varied at timesby of alook dull haughti ness hasregained its sway over the to ask…Aninstant seem eyes later —and aren’tsilly; laughing they restless at those me?” uneasily… onsuddenly be hisguard, would hiseyes shift and cautious ness… Thewhole man would give place toand an expressionchange, of shyness often imperious, but would allof asudden wasself-complacentwhich and supercilious, and, mostof all, by expression the of faces their way off Russians abroad. to recognize Iused along them Th “Mercy upon us!Haven’t Isaid some thing egirl, whom hehadcalledhissister, struck by cut walk,the their of clothes, their eyesand soft rst glance as very charming.rst glance Th as very ere are world faces inthe of that hair. curly He spoke in ere was

17 ACIA 18 IVAN TURGENEV led usalong asteep path up mountain-side. the before alittle narrow gate. Gaginopened it, and astonepaces beside wall, we came to astandstill openthe country, and aft fallen into at ruins that time), we came out into cobble-stones, barbicans the even had not all (it on wasenclosed allsidesby an ancient wallof byRhine moonlight.” dark now, and you hadmuch better cross the to makemised ussome junket. It be willsoon It’s there, delightful you’ll Ourlandlady see. pro- avineyard,“in inalonely little up. house, high home?” go we chaps are sedate. very What doyou say, Acia, shall windows, and smashedup chairs, the but these Our fellows, sure, to be would have broken the me; “I we’ve think stared enough at Germans. the like least herbrother.the reached development herfull yet. She wasnot in was gracefully built, but hardly to have seemed almost childish cheeks, and clear black She eyes. of herdark, round face, with its small, fi We off set “We live outside town,” the Gagincontinued, Th “Will you come Gaginsaid home to with us?” e girl nodded her head inassent. herhead egirlnodded . Th rough low the gates of town the er walking ahundred ne nose, heights. the on at ease and more free were too it though softair seemed transparency of atmosphere. the Th by depth the and purity of sky, the radiant the but above wasfi wide stretches inalldirections. Below it wasfi and hous es; sloping hillsand meadows ran in toclose river-bank, the displayed allits streets and gold of Th sunset. the banks; inone place it glowed with the purple lay at our between feet, its allsilvery green fi Madame...! landlady bringing inthe junket. tobegan approach cottage, the “and here’s the had climbed up. top at of mountain very the stood the which we black beams, and four bright little windows, on white the wallof little the cottage, with sloping wasdottedwhich with big and little stones, and greenthe earth, vines,on on poles, tall the dry the sun hadjust and set, adelicate rosy fl slopes onOn the vineyard; sideswasthe both the rst,” headded, round… “look isn’t it aview?” Th “Here is our house!” Gagin,directly cried we e view certainly was marvellous. Th wasmarvellous. certainly eview We’ll come but into supper directly; ner still; I was specially impressedner still;Iwasspecially ly quivering and undulating, as elittle town, nestling Guten Abend, efresh, light ushlay on e Rhine ne, 19 ACIA 20 IVAN TURGENEV bite.” said to her: and ears. At fi combed, like aboy’s, fell on inthick curls herneck off took and bread. We sat down and supper. began Acia with abowl of junkets plates, spoons, sugar, fruit, the with landlady. back Th came soon and house, the into went called herAcia, and you must same), letmedothe it romantic fairly stirs every chord within one.” coarse music —but distance, inthe it’s exquisite! “a waltz isoft Have you noticed,” ever headded, turning to me, open air.in the We can music hear the better here. broughtthing be out here. We willhave supper Acia,” hewent on, “see aft observed. single instant;single shegot up, ran off such arestless creature. She didnot sit still for a talking to meof her own accord. seen Ihadnever She smiled, and alittle aft while “Come, Acia, come out of your he won’t shell! Acia (herreal name wasAnna,but Gagin “It wasAcia found it,” answered Gagin;“come, “You have lodgings,” chosen delightful I herhat; herblack hair cropped and short ey were ey together carrying abig tray, stuff en poor rst shewasshy of me;but Gagin er the supper.er the every- Let by close —vulgar, into house, the er she began er shebegan darkness, everything wastransformed,darkness, everything even the turned to lightupon and everything Rhine; the a candle. At moon rose lastthe and shining began atwhile unopened the window without lighting went indoors. Isaw, along that though, shestood and Th sighed. droppedher curls into speaking, ceased hereyes, river.the Acia suddenly that fall, letherhead so lightstenderer; were burning town inthe and on to usasbefore, its strains sweeter seemed and slowly and deliberately. Th a bottle of wine;we drank Rhine it us, between air asthe aroundand peaceful us.Gaginordered night, but our conversation still went on, as quiet and dim, hadslowly melted away and into passed glow, at fi daylight hadlong diedaway, and evening the tender. expression instantaneously deepand became faintlytimes hereyelids drooped, and their then looked out boldly, brightly, directly, but some- diff to laugh,seemed not at what sheheard, but at the oft and ran back again, hummed inan undertone, en laughed, strange and she inavery way; erent that ideas hermind. crossed Her big eyes We chatted away for acouple of hours. Th rst fi rst ery, clear then and red, pale then enshesaid shewassleepy, and emusic fl oated across e 21 ACIA 22 IVAN TURGENEV broken it up,” Acia shouted to me. pushed off looked at meand Theboat herhead. shook hand, and heldout my hand to Acia; but sheonly promised to pay Ipressed meavisit his nextday; and said good-bye to Gagin my friends. new Ijumpedwas talking to aferryman. into boat, the festive We look. found Acia at river’s the edge; she treesthe from below, giving afantastic them and garden of alight inn,threw the on leaves the of smouldering lamps, lighted by students the inthe without answering aword, sheran by us.Th coming aft rollingthe of stones the us;it behind wasAcia there’ll nogetting be aferryman.” dark water, and pulled with great eff asturdyferryman, old man, buried hisoars in the warmth of night rose inwhiff folded its wings and sank to rest; fragrant the mysterious light. Th wine inour tumblers cut-glass with gleamed a “You are streak inthe of moonlight, you have “Aren’t asked you herbrother; but, asleep?” We went down path. the Suddenly we heard “Yes, it’s timeto start,” Gaginassented. “It’s timeIwasgoing!” “or Icried, perhaps, else er us. fl and oated on rapid the river. Th ewinddrooped, asit were, s from earth. the ort. e last, e