Turgenev, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, and Chekhov Professor Liza Knapp Columbia University

THE GIANTS OF RUSSIAN LITERATURE : TURGENEV , D OSTOEVSKY , TOLSTOY , AND CHEKHOV COURSE GUIDE

Professor Liza Knapp COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY The Giants of Russian Literature Turgenev, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, and Chekhov Professor Liza Knapp Columbia University

Executive Producer John J. Alexander

Executive Editor Donna F. Carnahan

RECORDING Producer - David Markowitz Director - Matthew Cavnar

COURSE GUIDE Editor - James Gallagher Design - Ed White

Lecture content ©2006 by Liza Knapp Course guide ©2006 by Recorded Books, LLC 72006 by Recorded Books, LLC Cover image: Leo Tolstoy plowing a field © Clipart.com #UT084 ISBN: 978-1-4281-1294-0 All beliefs and opinions expressed in this audio/video program and accompanying course guide are those of the author and not of Recorded Books, LLC, or its employees. Course Syllabus

The Giants of Russian Literature: Turgenev, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, and Chekhov

About Your Professor ...... 4

Introduction ...... 5

Lecture 1 Introduction: Fiction, Love, and Death in the Russian Context ...... 6

Lecture 2 Ivan Turgenev: A Russian Novelist at Home and Abroad; Relations in Fathers and Sons ...... 13

Lecture 3 Bridging the Generation Gap in Turgenev’s Fathers and Sons : Love and Death ...... 21

Lecture 4 Fyodor Dostoevsky: Writing for Life ...... 27

Lecture 5 In and Out of the Underground (A Reading of Dostoevsky’s Notes from the Underground )...... 33

Lecture 6 Calculating Murder in Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment ...... 39

Lecture 7 The Power of Compassion in Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment ...... 45

Lecture 8 Leo Tolstoy and the Search for Meaning in Life ...... 51

Lecture 9 Entering the Labyrinth of Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina ...... 57

Lecture 10 Anna Karenina and the Tangled Skein of Plot ...... 63

Lecture 11 Love and Death in Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina ...... 68

Lecture 12 Anton Chekhov: Writer, Doctor, Humanist ...... 74

Lecture 13 Chekhovian Compassion: Revisions of Peasant Life and Adulterous Love ...... 81

Lecture 14 Love and Death and the Russian Point of View ...... 89

Course Materials ...... 93

3 e k a l r e b m i T s a m o h T f o y About Your Professor s e t r u o c o t o h

P Liza Knapp

Liza Knapp teaches and writes about the Russian classics, both within the Russian context and in relation to their counterparts in English, French, and American literature. Liza Knapp taught for many years at the University of California at Berkeley and now teaches at Columbia University. She wrote The Annihilation of Inertia: Dostoevsky and Metaphysics, edited a critical companion to Dostoevsky’s The Idiot, and coedited Approaches to Teaching Anna Karenina. She is finishing Dostoevsky and the Novel of the Accidental Family, a study of Dostoevsky’s unique approach to the form of the novel. She is also at work on a study about Virginia Woolf’s “Russian point of view,” which examines the impact of Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, Turgenev, and Chekhov on Woolf’s work. A central focus of her work has been presenting the works of classic Russian writers to different audiences, from specialists in Russian literature, to under - graduate English majors at Berkeley, to readers outside of academia. In the summer of 2004, when Oprah Winfrey’s book club selection was Anna Karenina, Liza Knapp served as “literary expert” and responded to readers’ questions about the novel on the Oprah website. Liza Knapp was born in New York City. She graduated from Harvard College and received her Ph.D. in Russian literature from Columbia University.

4 m o c . t r a p i l C © Introduction Russian literature of the nineteenth century is among the richest, most pro - found, and most human traditions in the world. This course explores this tra - dition by focusing on four giants: Ivan Turgenev, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Leo Tolstoy, and Anton Chekhov. Their works had an enormous impact on Russian understanding of the human condition. And, just as importantly, these works have been one of Russia’s most significant exports: Turgenev, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, and Chekhov have become part of our literary heritage. And our understanding of the novel is based in large part on the master - pieces of Dostoevsky and Tolstoy, while Chekhov has defined modern notions of the short story. In this course, Liza Knapp acquaints you with the authors, their lives and their times, and their most important works. For each of the four authors cov - ered, she begins with an overview of their life and works and then guides you through a critical reading of representative major works. In the case of Turgenev, the focus is on Fathers and Sons, a tale of genera - tional conflict—and continuity. Liza Knapp treats two seminal works of Dostoevsky: his philosophical novella “Notes from the Underground” and Crime and Punishment, in which a psychological study of a murderer becomes an inquiry into the nature of love. Three lectures are devoted to Anna Karenina, Tolstoy’s exploration of the pursuit of happiness within and beyond the boundaries of marriage. The final works explored in the course are “Peasants” and “Lady with a Dog,” two powerful expressions of the Chekhovian compassion that has become his literary signature. Throughout the course, Professor Knapp aims to show the reader strategies for understanding and appreciating the works of these authors. She explains how they emerge from the Russian context of the nineteenth century and how, at the same time, these works wrestle with the universal and timeless questions of the human condition, above all, love and death.

5 Lecture 1: Introduction: Fiction, Love, and Death in the Russian Context

The Suggested Readings for this lecture are Gregory L. Freeze’s (ed.) Russia: A History (chapters 6–8) and Geoffrey Hosking’s Russia and the Russians: A History (chapters 6–8).

Love and Death: Consider this . . . The Facts of Life in Russian Fiction In addition to exploring universals such as love and death, novels refer to social issues, and their plots What is it about the grow out of social issues. Analogous issues were works that we are discussed in France, England, and America: the reading that makes status of slaves or serfs, status of the landed gentry, them special? On the emancipation of women, and centralization of one hand they seem government. Yet the discussion takes unique forms exotic—they’re set in in Russia. Russia, the characters have complicated Russian names, they go hunting, have servants, murder pawnbrokers, and gather mushrooms. And yet what attracts readers is the way in which these works (the novels of Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, and Turgenev and the stories of Chekhov) represent the basics of life that we all partake in. Thus, we read them more for these basics than for anything else. Reading these novels becomes part of our existential education, part of our moral education (see Kovarsky on this), and, at the same time, part of our artistic education, because how they represent these basics, the artistic form they give to them, is essential to the message. One way to approach this question is demonstrated by E.M. Forster in Aspects of the Novel, in which he observes the following: “The main facts in human life are five: birth, food, sleep, love, and death. One could increase the number—add breathing, for instance—but these five are the most obvi - ous.” How do these five main facts of human life figure in fiction? Forster notes that the first three (birth, food, and sleep) don’t figure prominently in the life of what he calls “Homo Fictus.” That leaves love and death—the two most congenial to fiction, according to Forster. Love and Death is also the title of Woody Allen’s spoof of the world of the nineteenth-century Russian novel. Judging by the title, for Woody Allen, Russian fiction boils down to these two basics. To be sure, Russian writers did not have a monopoly on these topics, which are universal to all novels, E

N but love and death appear in a form that is more concentrated, or perhaps O rawer, in the nineteenth-century Russian classics. E R

U It is often assumed that romantic or sexual love is the stuff of literature. T

C When love occurs in the context of courtship, it traditionally points to the goal E L

6 of marriage. Or romantic love can go awry, and you get a novel of adultery. But Russian writers also showcase other forms of love—and perhaps have had to develop other kinds of plots as a result: family love, love of self, love of one’s fellow man (neighbors, compatriots, strangers, enemies, others), and love of God. These last two, love of neighbor and love of God, are particularly important. When you think of “love and death” in the Russian novel, the love in question is likely to be for God and neighbor as well as for an object of sexual desire. While romantic love points to an obvious goal and defines familiar plots, it is harder to predict how these other, more mysterious, forms of love will behave when they are unleashed in Russian novels. In the nineteenth-century British novel, the trend was novels of courtship ending in marriage: As Trollope once put it, marriage may be “the proper end - ing” for a novel or “the only ending . . . which is not discordant.” (Think of Jane Austen novels ending in weddings.) In the time of Dostoevsky and Tolstoy in Russia, at least, the French novel was known for its “dangerous liaisons” and adultery. The (North) American novel, according to Leslie Fiedler in Love and Death in the American Novel, is shy about adult sexuali - ty—this means that the “love” of Fiedler’s title is pretty much absent, with its place taken up by masculine friendship (think of Huck Finn and Jim or Melville’s male friendships at sea). However, notes Fiedler, sex may be absent, but death is ever-present in the American novel. Of course, the above characterizations—or stereotypes—don’t always hold. But, as Woody Allen suggests, the Russian novel is about love and death, with both ever- present. The love in question is many-faceted, with love of God and love of neighbor figuring in, along with that staple of the novel, romantic love. The result, then, is that the Russian novel tends to favor a form that has struck many stylists as being rather unkempt. How does death figure in? Usually, it’s thought of as an ending. But what’s remarkable about the Russian novel is that it insists on reminding readers of death at various points along the way. In War and Peace, even before the War of 1812 hits and starts to take its toll, we are introduced to the Countess Rostov, the matriarch of the novel. She “was a woman of about forty-five, with a thin Oriental type of face, evidently worn out with childbearing—she had had twelve.” At this point in the novel, only four of those twelve children are living. Here we have both birth and death in high concentration. Tolstoy means for this fact of the Rostovs’ family life (all the children they have grieved for) to explain some of the mystery that surrounds this family: They love each other beyond measure, know how precious life really is, and have the capacity for abandoning themselves in the moment. Russian literature is mined with reminders of death, as well as scenes that describe death and dying. Whatever their beliefs about what happens after death—and Tolstoy, Turgenev, Dostoevsky, and Chekhov all had different views—each made death a fact of his fiction. In these works of fiction, death is described from the point of view of those who witness it—or even perpetrate it. (Crime and Punishment takes you right into the mind of an axe-murderer.) And our authors describe what dying is like even for the dying man or the dying woman. This may be the ultimate narrative challenge: writing about something that no writing man has experienced (completely).

7 LECTURE ONE 8 si r e n e g w a r e n e g t m e e s n w o n k y n a m d n a R t the c t i r e v e d c ti o th r g S em th e o b in u d p a ( The m d i o v a wo r t t e e s t u o b a l a i t s n y e h o i d e d n e a i m i seco ep o r h T As Ce Th g r u T ity, arv io ne ou nd it ur te t h g t. s a s s u t s e g a ove ns io n l r e r t ou r n , s e pir e h e po r Pe e l s e u q mp nd er aur Gr ea n esn ds n—o is e : a h c f o s la f h t r o w k C , t o n o l r e w tral gh ea r u o a i clasi n me e Th h g u e n e now se. a w tersbur f t a e w ar d n a ont e c a f e d cer we l e m p d t n i c a ion ts s - n w a . l t nd s a f o y e h ; fr o m l tu t hat ha a r e i y o o i t a a h nt e half) mi ta t h t om to tin of t a r u T p e r to u o , v T re tain l ex n s (1 68 a w a e t c of e l y t o a w t h t cu st om s. r e to s u s y e p a l he lo ? h kn ow g : n t n t t s ca g o fical Rusian a Pu give p amo v o l t s o D r c re t e r o e t e g p e c p s w ve Moscow, f E ti on d r g, W s r t n r b u s y capr f le w o H a l S o g o t a o Rusian a c i t i a h pre conti eal d o r e s e H ur s u o i c i p e r a e sh a l S e v 9– e Rusian e n f f wer est a e f a an h a f r d o t ng s n o i t ope n, s s e n e v i s s e r s e W d t y k s v e o n o i g i l e Rusia kin Rusian n i . h t n o i s r 17 25 n e u q e s , e l i h p o v s ’ e r he sent an d re g n i v v mor h p o v g n i c a i s s u R life. iciously . h t “ l d ern e i t e i x n a rea e t o r p a d l u o h s f o e h t o lig Russians s i gen On e t i E d du cultr iluso an cr it ic al com e l y t s - n r e t ? I e e h w eat ion im po rt at io n s u n t f o lism.” ). Th f o a life b a Eu e h f o s e l i t bbe lif r e h , r O d r i e h Western life r t , cie t c t Pe n village-like a u a e. r i e h d t e o h—but e n o of rope t s l o T m m o r “ Asia? y a w of s litera s e r t a i s s u R h t a e a “as n a i s s u R al t u n Fict g u o h s n o d t works d l u o h y a l p y l l s te r e v o l ( , y a w t a r Th entig uthoritarian , m e h tha w a m Pe te ti me m the T o a id a v o l a e h t f e a s f his t u o b , n o i t c i n g i s s a , r e h is . s n i it a t r o nd c i t n a to ok , y o entiy ion “wind t s b . y n a Is o l t ure s n i e h is” s s e l Or Rusian s r se o eing is on r’ s d n h t the Eur t u t i t a i s s u R in n e v f a te condit tha d n a Rusia t of . w o l l o y t i l d n a not y e h t u t i t e s e part d n im a f o t s o D (Bro , e W h t r O is h rm ra di ca l t r e v i Ru ss are ma jo r the g n i y d n e r ow n i family-oriented opean We st er n “mother r o t s i d e w h t , s n o i f o t d porta a n o i t a a e h t it d n a w a s we just , s n o i a e d as r e t s y e ref r u o e h t h C d i d t u a r oks, fa a part hu gen y k s v e o x o d o to ed o t epro n t e t s e W ia y Empir s m e h ther. a l S o r . t a wil h k e c i p e d a e l p o e p man he h t s r o h r t Europ nt d n i t a z i n n on s. e h t o n n e b me as ur c a f o H e r it ct s city eral s e l realm ” . m s i l n a g n i y p s e of r o f f 2 h duction . ) s v r e t n i fro to of to t quest u h C a i r t s u 05) v o mo de ls be is the w e n i t s e W t i f e e Europe wa s s e v l e a e z i n r l cond to r n o i t made-to-order e s s t n a t m Russia,” y l l a i c e y f o a r b m d he e.” a c i t i l o p o t a h rea s n e t was h T . e n i w t s e o asoc unive . h c r a w a h W mode m e ap y n e p s l l a m u . d m es n i t a e d s r e ion t a h t o i t a z i l e v o l It w to Moscow wa s a n r e city, r i e e c a uch o t s l o T ding it s of t s u d n i r f o o i io to gives of rt, o t n i e b Rusian ? mo ve T k rks m o t n h t s of o p o v d a ?h t rsal n n r e z i g o r p niet iate e h f o l s a w mo de rn iz e Aside h w m o S te ch no a of a h t th e e b p o r i e s g n i e b a while a , n t a l e r a al wher l a c i t i l . y l g n i d r o c c n e t g n i d i o v oised f a g d n s i y t i l a t r o m s y city literau e h t o t a Europe ; n o i t a z i l a i r d nd the m a c d n a g n i k s a i l e r m a r d e t a c cre a it e r e w re ig n th e o was u o m m i t e with e r a w l a i c o s enth-cu m g n i e m f e u q i n is Petersburg from for o t Orthod s u o i g lo gy , the , s e n o o imp r ate e d a f .t n e m e v as , p n i ca pi ta l Rusia h c ilumnated s a w g n i n a p m a c churches, their s e a o t n e v e Peter th of h c a e re h t r u f a v u o h t e g n a resion it h e n o was Ru ss ia , o fictona maternal g d n a e e h t e h t e f i l o t uman in st it u e w or f Pe te r is eography, su o i r t i r i p s t A a d e l l a c literay ht a e d ye h t authors’ me h t xy. h g art on sa w e f i l m of n i h t e s s e u s to dn a reli stod se u q ll i w e h t o t ry ni o hi s ; i had - eh the l tha con sa h - of gn i k to ro f n r - - - Chekhov lived a bit later, when these labels were less current, but his incli - nations were Westernizing. As the descendant of serfs, he was attuned to peasant and religious culture, but he adamantly refused to romanticize it and declared his belief in material progress. The nineteenth century in Russia was a time of ideological ferment. Everyone talked ideas. The Tsarist regime attempted to protect its interests and promote its platform of “Autocracy, Orthodoxy [the state religion], and Nationalism” by exerting tight control over the bodies and minds of its subjects. Government service (civil service, diplomatic corps, military) was a major source of employ - ment and social advancement. Our Russian authors tend to present a nega - tive view of service: Either it’s soul-killing or for social climbers. In the public sphere, freedom of expression was limited. Intellectuals looked to newspapers and journals, especially the so-called “fat journals,” for ideo - logical stimulation. Here debates were carried out, new theories aired, and knowledge disseminated. These journals were also a source of foreign ideas. Many of the major works of literature appeared in them, and it is significant that Russians read their novels between the same covers as their popular science or political commentary. Social Groups: Serfs, Intelligentsia, Women A dominant social-political issue of the mid-nineteenth century was serfdom. The Russian system of serfdom, which crystallized in its modern form in the seventeenth century, basically made slaves out of the Russian peasantry. Serfs were owned by the state, by the Church, or by private landowners who were members of the nobility (also called gentry). Serfs could be bought and sold. By the middle of the nineteenth century, it was clear that the institution would have to be abolished. In the wake of defeat in the Crimean War in 1856, Tsar Alexander II decided that it would be better to abolish serfdom “from above” (by imperial decree) than to wait for the serfs to do it them - selves “from below” (by insurrection). Newly freed serfs received plots of land for which they were supposed to pay the government in installments. But the plots were small, and the peasants could not make a living. In fact, the plight of the peasant seemed to deteriorate as time went by. The nineteenth century also marked a new prominence on the intellectual (and literary) scene of a social group known as the raznochintsy. The Russian word means “of varied rank.” This term was usually applied to those who were not from the landed gentry class—they were often sons of village priests—but who had entered the intelligentsia, thanks to their education, merit, and hard work. The raznochintsy introduced a new edginess into the cultural and literary world. Not surprisingly, they were more radical and less wedded to tradition and privilege. Another focal point of public discussion was the “woman question,” in reality, a number of interlocking questions concerning the structure of the family, marriage, sexual freedom, the education of women, women working outside the home, and the role of women in the public sphere. The woman question was on everyone’s mind, and it wasn’t something that only entered the bobbed heads of the young women associated with the nihilist movement.

9 LECTURE ONE 1 0 s f a p o sci N a a T ca o b a e so a p h a r f Ki f d u m t R “Wh h i h t i r a n r a p d b a R p s—and or he he t c a a e e T Tu In Th Wo Wh n a t a n l l n e d xa l a i g e n e a r hu iko u u ou ly ly m m o f ti r a la o e h se n tr , cause d tr e n d r r e m n o r t t u o n o i t c e m sano o sia sia fi ti i e de d ba f r e r mpl , , t re —wi ot ersta “Fe yo onym onym s, fathe usl ref gi ormal es on. s gen men en s e c Arkady. d n a io qu e l at ca ai s ’ e h hu fo n s e d si r b ve socia ns u for v E m i h m y social d d u am y, n n s al ly rm d mise e Is th l P ng i sba v b , t Ar th s l osya ng , . , re p ndig lit ast lit c wa etr y r e g h w e tha of v, com star in ic ic: fo is c i exa if es in h p osein z a B like l l a ou kad o t ciru er era e man d B taking t hro p nd’s oting l o y n ovich o f “Nikolaevn him n like y his a an ( r e az Ar t atr b o a p nam a a to In t ne of a h ine n ts mple, h es to th u tur tur ositn s r a N y “ m a e m i ugh [ kady r e n i ( Ar o ch e s c i of e age ia msta by t R last the to ikola es d whose is th he rov, v o en, b qua fa ch ut nicka for e e, to s rcha an us es, kash s e o y ar n i y b s u h his h how e mily e h t f o say his th so ar a o her ave n s i f first re her d or Fe t nam r amily have lit s i h t m n . Niko nce is evna ot . for est h s i v a l s i h cte linkg me a ian] to fa n a b l pro His bo k r A e n o ie Bu ful, cte od e s a c ma ne cla “ a.” struc Rusian na oe af o f me pa a the ho ! Fen f s ma na r’s ex s, in th e l g e r o t s a l ula Arkash t ducing d terwa r la chka, r s ’ y d a , d me are s ny s tron p a m f f meco N aly a At tr at ifculty. . s. given (o o me ir ample—o r’s Arka use evich. y l use ke atron nam our nd a echka ansltor . ame f st tions o . d r a e h s the r difer , of nd T t a n .,” l e s o h t this f e x i f f u s he signa ymic.) res f su a b it hus, n f and i h other r m r o au the the the d. dy a f en m , e m ames, st e usin s i heroin ver ea ?” a ymic rname Rusi u na T end are !” point of r e h t ing But and a enc. s e s thors, (A to , s u h n f more . wo sie To r patr nd led me. y pea signal same Arkady’s ame, h c o c d n e i . s g d legitmzd t z a B nly To fa he th ma .,” na fam from of . ) uld r cho speaking th h a r a a n k c i n rea a d l u per use an es pat mil eir and , onymic, f Fen sant er p , n e h W med. us or Nikolaevch an be names the In fir r e v o r a fa ried fo use e l p o e r A ila Nikola, be r e t c d ose names petua o for ronymi f st forma s a mily rmal d the ather univer tha certa co f echka abou a n g i ) y d a k sure, r th per y t , v r novel, s en mistre ms th na ref e m se fathe s n nveys f es “Arkad woman to t r a i l i m a r o en read he i , n i ( na h ckn mes h w fairly tings, erd tes form cause this l conve am in ’s l etua o th t r e v e w o pres cs—ignal n a c s i d d d a sity the first i f me). and core n i d u l c o intm n novels, syte has r, o e fam ca ame, a when r ong er, t Eng he a t could tha dres, are r t ’ n s e o d n is y y b of se, s s e r consite uni Rusian set ed n g i s t arto of nam n stil y. n i c n o ily, Rusian adin Nikola first-me beco tend acy, his cts e m a n k c i ve n m some friend s i h g lish , by Ar used: ame in becau h her s i h l a until two e h t maint it in e m i h e F g signal the patr kady’s hims g form first f me athe mo r, to he g is translio t s r i “F m i t n i n i wheras subtle n i to evich o re s se of r t a r r a n a cha namig edosya” lps “so p e t i v n w ne’s onym y b a marige Bazr a t r e c od, s lations of who first embrac ly. a elf ains ick , s na the su a n read e rs the efcts. de a h s u y n E , y c a social n of h fathe ractes the to of t o m me fix As e m and and and ni — y c a m i t n i Kirsanov” s i r one wa nam fernc of nam ) ! r o n i ic: father ad their a self-co ers h her ov l l u f a same in ave r e h tha yl l a u s u Nikola and ys. sytem dn a mu c r i c link with dres. r, It goes and Son powe re stan , e, cals e e r es oth of o a So his is is an f qu fath wil sult, ts r i f For no a t . . e f an to n u s u er me d h a sk l - r - m i.” su su r er l. is in er - b ot to - a e , - - Many Russian last names, when used for a woman, have a suffix, the vowel a, added to them. Translators tend not to reproduce this effect, the one exception being Anna Karenina. The last name of the heroine of Fathers and Sons, Anna Sergeevna Odintsova, is sometimes Odintsov and sometimes Odintsova, depending on which translation is used. In reference to this char - acter, whose identity in the novel is that of an independent woman (her last name has a root that means “one”), the narrator and the men who talk about her tend to refer to her simply by last name: “Odintsova arrived . . .” or “Odintsov[a] put her hands out before her, but Bazarov was leaning on the window pane . . .” This use of the last name only for a woman is definitely more marked (as unusual) in English, whereas in Russian it’s a bit more nor - mal, but it still has the definite and noticeable effect of signaling distance from her and perhaps even granting her some kind of gender equality. The woman caricatured as an emancipated nihilist also is referred to by last name alone. She is just Kukshina, without a first name or patronymic.

Russian Classics in English Translation

The Russian classics read in this course exist in a number of excellent English translations. A pioneer in making these works available to English- language readers was Constance Garnett, who, starting at the very end of the nineteenth century and continuing through the early twentieth century, single-handedly translated most of the Russian classics. Garnett’s superb translations of the classics have been revised periodically by scholars and are still in print. A number of them are used in these lectures. Since Garnett’s time, new generations of translators have provided excellent new translations. Extremely popular have been the translations of Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky. Their translation of Crime and Punishment is used in lectures 6 and 7. In lecture 12, citations are from their translation of “Rothschild’s Fiddle.”

11 FOR GREATER UNDERSTANDING

Questions

1. Why do love and death make such good subject matter for novels and stories? 2. What social changes were afoot in Russia in the middle of the nineteenth century? 3. How can the use of different forms of a character’s name signal different attitudes?

Suggested Reading

Turgenev, Ivan. Fathers and Sons. Norton Critical Ed. Trans. Constance Garnett, revised by Ralph Matlaw. New York: W.W. Norton, 1966. ———. Fathers and Sons. Trans. Richard Freeborn. Oxford: Oxford World Classics, 1991.

Other Books of Interest

Berlin, Isaiah. Russian Thinkers. “Fathers and Children: Turgenev and the Liberal Predicament,” pp. 261–305. New ed. New York: Penguin, 1995. Brooks, Peter. Reading for the Plot: Design and Intention in Narrative. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1984. Dessaix, Robert. Twilight of Love: Travels with Turgenev. Emeryville, CA: Shoemaker & Hoard Publishers, 2005. Feuer, Kathryn. “ Fathers and Sons : Fathers and Children.” The Russian Novel from Pushkin to Pasternak. Ed. John Garrard. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1983. Pritchett, V.S. The Gentle Barbarian: The Work and Life of Turgenev. New York: Vintage, 1978. Roosevelt, Priscilla. Life on the Russian Country Estate: A Social and Cultural History. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1997. Turgenev, I.S. Fathers and Sons. Norton Critical Ed. 2nd ed. Ed. and trans. Michael R. Katz. New York: W.W. Norton, 1993.

O ———. Fathers and Sons. Norton Critical Ed. Ed. Ralph E. Matlaw. W

T Trans. Constance Garnett. New York: W.W. Norton, 1966. E R U T C E L

20 Lecture 3: Bridging the Generation Gap in Turgenev’s Fathers and Sons : Love and Death

The Suggested Reading for this lecture is Ivan Turgenev’s Fathers and Sons (chapters 12 –end).

After a lot of talk in the first eleven chapters, the action moves to town. As the plot develops, we see those constants of the Russian novel: love and death. What happens when a nihilist falls in love? And, in the face of death, is it possible to believe in nothing? In town Arkady and Bazarov attend a ball and make the acquaintance of a widow, Anna Sergeyevna Odintsova (Odintsov in some translations), and then visit her on the estate where she lives with her younger sister. It’s here that Bazarov experiences the biggest challenge to his nihilism. Fathers in Love Before looking at what happens to this young nihilist when he is tempted by love, I want, by way of comparison, to look at what happens to old romantics, the fathers, when they love. Nikolai still nurtures love for his deceased wife and “long[s] to feel his Marya near him again, to have a sense of her warmth and breathing” (chapter 11). The memory of his dead wife Marya protects Marino, the estate named in her honor, in a maternal embrace. And now Nikolai has developed an attachment to a young woman named Fenechka, a free peasant (not a serf) in her early twenties, who has become his mistress and the mother of his young child. Arkady, true to the democratic ideals of his generation, accepts his new brother and is not disturbed by the social origins of Fenechka. (He does, however, see no reason why his father should not marry her.) Nikolai Petrovich loves contentedly. Pavel Petrovich’s romantic past, in contrast, is rather bizarre. He once met a certain Princess R. at a ball and “danced the mazurka with her, in the course of which she did not utter a single sensible word, and fell passionately in love with her” (chapter 7). Pavel Petrovich is obsessed with her, loses his head, and ruins his career. After she dies, around the time when Arkady’s mother died, Pavel Petrovich is a broken man. Thus Consider this . . . both brothers of the older generation have Over the course of the rest of Turgenev’s novel, devoted themselves to Fathers and Sons, the location of action shifts from these now-dead loves, the Kirsanov estate to town (what does the town but in very different imply, as opposed to the family estate?) and then to ways: Nikolai’s love Odintsova’s estate, and to Bazarov’s own modest was fruitful and life- family estate—and then from there Bazarov makes affirming, Pavel’s life the rounds again. What characterizes each locale seems quite arid. and how does the locale affect behavior and action?

21 LECTURE THREE 2 2 m th la r p a vid Pe o a in se th b n L Ba ice Od d co d b o sh p b a m m Avd a th lo a co in p a a a te A b at At Du In Th he nd f nd e, at at et ea ie wn re e nd ut te hysi na nd l, et t o sp ea r e ake ar e l Nih io par ls ld e me soul n o o o zaro u i d k Baz u in e o we t to nt e cream h my, mp uty n t r o bea aco ema wn r ri ty otya pl n”); al i , ha nt re rmi no omy O t so w in red Arkad an fu at er he ag o h w sova ni s n she o e im il o din i g wo lo as bi n t a d -caled te ts my to rp n, fo v h as n he u d man? th h Odint nat ut e, i ar s for me n’t por nvita i ncipa rov the so- gical rch il T rdin re t f er Niktsh ex r han t tsova men the her e res to of in y ist b A t e , r was ur she esp old in th on y: a io self e to r do r div s b int of a it tan caled like ka nd re ead the gen r vist tre em g n. B etl e? n rts p ed b efl sov of “ sex is h io ” r tion n’t o rve We And d n duce az u asion L ody; “th dy to ha espo ce. left er e” into B a contr ci atu s ar n, ove a a p tr ev’s T pro ey a uals a is na nd the cts az wit a you ick d, d Ba la tha is es ha s a e lo ” (cha viola nam rov fa phys Baz of mor ly A re. a a what nd nts: no ( each vid a oks the on nse. Kuksh b a h le al m—u chap scin t’s zaro tha an ol a rov t jo we “wo ?” sing po wom ut is in ) g f arn t d Kuksh h in she Bazr or pt al e e-d urn bit; tion ir Bazro the ro io o al ish be as rt She n rov str he l- extr Ba it a l ati er ver f a ab an rk v, w In ot log q s mant or ter a s le of nd a to nlike aits e rop als,” en: rom ugle, ualites ina. wher er a fo had shop” nd zarov on . trad ve sa of n 16 of cause wh out d -do declarin wor an hum us her ist . th ina, ov an difer rest; e 7). he me “ Arka per, rge ys . a ). his rich the had over in o d anticsm, ic v eir p The it of d whose has Arkady’s ne al r th m wido certain romu By In siter io h spo Arka kno an to th co fe Ba version Baz makes rat y an , as do et princle of lives ice ent no ver nal, t whose dy t are a then is he rep b hes exp ncomita Arkady. Odintso this po brain, specimn nd g zarov her d lin uts w ut es faling n no dy bota lg m cre just vi know r h troub o eatd rtai g, Katy. the rov patri what omant “pa it with lo ated indep and et ave th ew Ana vel. time, his ma than p nose se am. doe myster red lewd moth a of e atienc hou nist su ges sple keps s. l same are t of in ried her e le nt va. of nih th a know Bazr new Par sexua of the by rchal ch s nigmat re ways What i . love a se it c lo ey When Serg ro fair wou er, se f nde this rema is wer no alike Al nse, ilsm. marks She at “tem se to b ve. love some a t io n, manti xual not is ecoms in suficent q n atiud of t asking who us for amo p the ov vi form. uestion (her ld l e h wo r of e ab filed eopl pasion t, F al; elation at rks ica the rot, xclu eart, sit yevna ple.” at wan mancipted for to for her “I or r th th sug she elations g desirab c man out of bal. of raction, unt di l le ink ranti her asur ir ose the mar be es love in Ba the artin glan de love ts this ast with the husb whetr p gest and (This tend Od res clear wou o latform s r zarov, nose, of towa to is Arkad Odin on him d sig ead riage sexua .” wh f mos are ce in es. and young e g intsova na fre but the studying ilty: mix ju bo He and lun ht ld mble her betwn o to y w this d is dge tha tha to rd ture, you . thick ou, tsova. oks, t omen re are perhas varito ed: Study gs to dom instuo young y marig was to the , W part this l as ther “ teach relations Odin esta We pasion. in declars resp “pasio secur e r studying reduc al the each talk Bazr made ? adicls moved it Turg Bazr ’d pae lev journals. fact, is by in The un an l, each should te. She the gre tsov betr the a ect, a col wo ns blas about genr her you cut”: d e. re “calu env oth h man ov rs, ater was alike; of n” self- n rest. ov man, ave he are of He ha “any In ar tha by ind who her - the er, like a is r go - d - - - one key passage, the narrator gives us insight into Odintsova’s body and soul. For all her outward composure, she, too, has longings. And they surface in the bath. Turgenev’s description is remarkably suggestive: . . . dreams sometimes danced in rainbow colors before her eyes even, but she breathed more freely when they died away, and did not regret them. Her imagination indeed overstepped the limits of what is reck - oned permissible by conventional morality; but even then the blood flowed as quietly as ever in her fascinatingly graceful, tranquil body. Sometimes coming out of her fragrant bath all warm and languorous, she would fall to musing on the insignificance of life, the sorrow, the labor, the malice of it . . . Her soul would be filled with sudden daring, and would flow with generous ardor, but a draft would blow from a half- closed window, and Anna Sergeyevna would shrink into herself, and feel plaintive and almost angry, and there was only one thing she cared for at that instant—to get away from that horrid wind. (chapter 16) That wind is symbolic of an alien, invasive force penetrating her inner world. The relations between Odintsova and Bazarov reach a turning point. Bazarov, aware that his father and mother have been waiting to see him, announces his departure. As they begin their talk, she tells Bazarov that she feels “stifled” and asks him to open the window. (Here, Odintsova seems to overcome, if only for a moment, her usual impulse [described in the passage quoted above] to “get away from that horrid wind”!) When Bazarov does what she asks, the window flies open with a crash, perhaps simply because of the wind, or perhaps in part because his hands are trembling. Then the night enters the chamber: “The soft, dark night looked in to the room with its almost black sky, its faintly rustling trees, and the fresh fragrance of the pure open air” (chapter 17). To open the window suggests a willingness or openness on her part, which contrasts with her need to close the window after her bath. Odintsova and Bazarov meet, talk, and trade barbed insults about each other’s class. They almost declare love, but retreat. The next morning, there is another attempt, but this time she seems to force him to declare his love. He lunges at her and embraces her passionately. She reciprocates for a moment, and then pushes him away. It seems to be understood by both that they will not act on the passion that has erupted. Why doesn’t she carry through? Is she incapable of passion? Is the social divide too great? Would she be jeopardizing the control over her life that she has achieved? Does she see Bazarov’s limitations? Here we have what has been seen as Turgenev’s trademark: the politics and poetics of hesitation. She hesitates and the moment is lost. After this scene, the action moves to a new location, the home of Bazarov’s doting parents. Bazarov has changed. Although he expresses his relief at not being “crushed by a skirt,” he seems to exude a new degree of nihilism and lack of concern for others, verging on hatred. The formerly arrogant Bazarov sounds defeated: The tiny space I occupy is so infinitely small in comparison with the rest of space, in which I am not, and which has nothing to do with me;

23 LECTURE THREE 2 4 fe lo co a sto g a h h o m Ba h Ba r wi Pr Ba r r u m co in p so h b li n ad hu to is wi l be tu r is “It ’ om esi em Ar Ba Pa Gr Ba nd est nd ave is f e, la re avi ro ve g e en an th e— in re th ev me nt on s va ma tw ee N Arka l, es zaro zaro zaro p ted li kad a e Isn t ken o st st, z zaro vel l Ba an emb ext ce ng” , ng iko ove y s s emp re g ag Ba f n te id en wi t aro nt a ami g ri he ou mar ma re n wh o fo d b tha in ’ o rni ti s p zar t y, n h es, lai v’ v, v n zar dy’s, P y p n be i c r fo alizes at ar d the es bu k r ge v g v i (ch. i thr an an t mself eas t, tu ly r etr s tl ty in g tr si h t t me pri riag fe R. r rs h ov, wi o go p y bo P his ied ov ying t im ar ng s th ous mp with pr o le ss e co ou vistng pr im d of ety? i ovich per etr pe se vil co mm en n ne tne sses an Whe anwhile, es e e lin re 25) whe ope h cha h id e, mplet a se al gh wou nt Od i ly de w ege is F th ovich rha ap fr ee fa d oth nd ‘o g an d iod e a day, t resign en h ho of a . e o king a do in g s the p no pr e the p r n le at t ich re (ch wou nd the nt so va : t he rob witne ps ar ld th er pu Od in ts ov a. echka n fo me “h e in a his o h h nge ely, of hom ih fr og s m vi ou s he rs, s tur e r f er, e es apt yan dom no in r hap a an I rge ti ng su r r lems. ilst ld time , Fen itua r” ath an wo p nd atio fo h cou is o fo wi th e. an s the t with h sed it y, ave ch er th n lea make (t he r an e, ce. rma as be pin with in al os Baz ? er ani mal so Fench on Back views or t l, is d h hi s e n r p his 21 ters t scen, tship l Bazr in ving li ke is chka, liac l in and Baz th e Pavel es. oner left at fo and able fe no comp dra g is But Odintsova an ts . l wh at fl y’ s) th ) w ca pa ci ty way Ka asum ebly.) r limts, He rov stil Pavel t eason is h th e , at fl y— th e his rm : arb Ba b tha he ich and tya, ev gi to They luckiy, rov ov to wer ka. en, stole who asion d en vi es Is Marino re si st an ha Petrovich hom with to n a zarov an t, or, scien be at withsan Ma yb e in g it r n We th m can due ption enga s esolv B Altho a Petrovich enga off or is n b Katy, once odly at a ajor and fo fre e ta ke n agr to ’s e it du Odintsova ar e itern zarov Ru ss ia ki m both r a simply lin tifc not a a wh at younger th e ad behin for , steal el. re s. pi ty , e fter gem ce y ugh of Arkad g h step. sha fro m es th er e e sho lot d alf - told othe enou gi for He nv ia b is eq pl an t— th e pt the tha . t Odin H me s, o conti the a in ves st o . a fo r l d. Pavel a n e to an de disap uipmen to beca ce nt . leav his pe de th not y (Nikola n kis scient wo rd tha par k rs re al ly h T T , pp ed o gh love live a due si co mp as si on , t le . e — an tsova’ imself, absur o he rsonal his he hen, su his n a termin d a fear ster f nd ues t sen time nt be. o use prove.) th nd d remind fly Katy rvie. Petr An d Bazrov, from of l im pl ic at io n r is changi Ru ss ia n h blesing head is “is eir ifc Ba t. at is Ba za ro v no t fe is while and act d, the Katy. . as tha his fe mi ni His reval h els ovich a . chale Marin zarov it a paren own ye t site work, e s Fen ar . ta ke n p di ff er en ce , turns and pur mo s gay scie Isn’t tha, h che ers Th ety clas istocra iro p “ as both pe rh ap s hi A g arents e of ne —w ha t i r. w ely re during s e neptiud o, rkad nicaly When to won’t fo r m nge. ts chka find times. Arkady fr om ntifc Lo while or d had He besid tha it is novel pit y.” pl ac e— o fo in Odintsova the and of ut, imagnry prejudic em pa th y? shame hideous? thario.’” r th at y on keping the fin is The his . al a it ta ki ng change he is work harbo marige Bazrov be tw ee n (She the Arkad congr re Ba za ro v custo g Baz arov ma sc u ds the with sug o cr ea of a fathers the would he heart nd two at back kis, a a ant : - b find Is nd m, at y - ut s - - - - From this point on, Turgenev suggests that Bazarov is a dead man walking. Life no longer seems to have a hold. Bazarov passes his time helping his father with his medical practice. But he makes a professional mistake: He gets himself infected during an autopsy of someone who had died of typhus. And he fails to take the proper precautions and allows too much time to elapse before asking his father for something to cauterize the cut. Apparently, Bazarov makes a pointless and stupid error, unless of course he does it on purpose. He is definitely not acting according to his scientific principles. We have seen how Bazarov faces love; now we see him face death. Here, the consensus is, he behaves more honorably, and more in keeping with his principles, and even more kindly to others. The best of his nihilism shines through. Or maybe it’s the inner grace and inbred humanity that he has inher - ited from his dear parents. Either way, Bazarov faces death nobly. His dying request is for Odintsova to be summoned. Bazarov asks to be left alone with Odintsova, “‘Anna Sergeyevna, you will allow it, I fancy, now?’ With a motion of his head, he indicated his prostrate helpless frame” (chapter 27). The innuendo is that she need no longer fear his amorous advances. The exchange between them leads us to conclude that while love may bring out the worst (the lewdest and the most juvenile) in a nihilist like Bazarov, death brings out the generosity of spirit and nobility that were so lacking in his selfish response to disappointment at love. In the last chapter, Turgenev provides us with an epilogue-like conclusion that brings us up to date on everyone: Pavel Petrovich has gone off to Europe; Odintsova has married one of the future leaders of Russia; the Kirsanovs, father and son, held a double wedding. The book ends on a sad and yet uplifting note: Bazarov’s parents at his grave, mourning. When Fathers and Sons appeared, Turgenev was barraged with criticism and questions. Especially in view of a lack of a clear winner in the implicit contest between the fathers and the sons, it is all the more relevant to ask again about the meaning of the title. Some of the most persuasive readings of the novel have been those that point out the extent to which the strict divi - sions along generational lines don’t really hold. Still, the novel does convey a message about “fathers” and “sons”: With the process of aging, revolution - ary or radical fervor softens. In the face of death, love is what matters.

25 FOR GREATER UNDERSTANDING

Questions

1. Can Bazarov be viewed as a tragic hero? If so, what is his fatal tragic flaw? 2. The interaction between Bazarov and Odintsova is one of the important dramatic moments of Fathers and Sons (arguably the most compact and powerful). What happens, in psychological terms, between the two? Who is to blame? 3. How do women fit into the conflict of generations in Fathers and Sons ?

Suggested Reading

Turgenev, Ivan. Fathers and Sons. Norton Critical Ed. Trans. Constance Garnett. Revised by Ralph Matlaw. New York: W.W. Norton, 1966. ———. Fathers and Sons. Norton Critical Ed. 2nd ed. Ed. and trans. Michael R. Katz. New York: W.W. Norton, 1989. (Ed. note: All the critical material in the two volumes listed above are valuable resources for Turgenev’s works.)

Other Books of Interest

Costlow, Jane T. Worlds Within Worlds: The Novels of Ivan Turgenev. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1990. Lowe, David. Turgenev’s Fathers and Sons. Ann Arbor, MI: Ardis, 1983. E E R H T E R U T C E L

26 Lecture 4: Fyodor Dostoevsky: Writing for Life

The Suggested Reading for this lecture is Joseph Frank’s Dostoevsky (5 vols.) or Richard Freeborn’s Dostoevsky: Life and Times .

Introduction to Consider this . . . Dostoevsky’s Life Dostoevsky is said to Dostoevsky was brought “face-to-face with death” have remarked that when he was sentenced to death for political activ - Turgenev and Tolstoy ity. He received a reprieve at the last moment, but wouldn’t have been able the experience changed him profoundly. to write a single line if they had lived under the conditions in which he lived his life and wrote his novels. Fyodor Dostoevsky’s life, indeed, was full of drama, tragedy, hard - ship, poverty, sickness, addiction, love and death, and even some family happiness. It will always be a question how much of his life and experience found its way into his fiction, but the experience of poverty, violence, and compassion did inform both his life and his work. Dostoevsky’s life breaks conveniently into distinct periods, punctuated by dramatic (often tragic) events and changes of location. Family Background and Childhood (1821–1837) Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky was born in 1821 into the family of Mikhail Dostoevsky, who had received medical training in the army, served as an army doctor, and then as a doctor in a hospital for the poor in Moscow. The family lived on the grounds of this hospital, in proximity to poverty, sickness, and death. Dostoevsky’s father, in government service, had achieved a mini - mal rank for being considered part of the nobility or gentry, though it was a far cry from the inherited status and the vast estates of Turgenev and Tolstoy. His mother was from a merchant family. Dostoevsky’s father was ever conscious of his family’s modest standing and tried to improve their sta - tus. He was a firm believer in education as the means to success. Accordingly, Dostoevsky and his siblings, including his sisters, received the best education their parents could manage. Education began at home. They read Russian works and Western literature such as Sir Walter Scott and Ann Radcliffe (a trigger for nightmares!). The Dostoevskys maintained a traditional and active attitude to religion. Family life revolved around the celebration of church holidays; pilgrimages were made in the summer to a famous monastery outside of Moscow; bless - ings were sought at church; there were daily devotions at home; signs of the cross were made over the children; lamps were lit in front of icons: spiritual life was integrated into daily life. Dostoevsky’s mother taught him to read from a book of Bible stories for children. (And Dostoevsky’s favorite was the story

27 LECTURE FOUR 2 8 m so e li sym b to it Fr r su to b Do we wi fe fa th s Do mi to po s The a a p Do so ch He fa Pe An wh Do o sa ly’ d e o ef Do Sig As Do Du te av aw xcha ro ro nd ct osi f est sta f u ar o m e s st r cial fer il ek ving or S d suf Job u a o re st o r st st o st p k ug t ud ed ag r ary w er il sto sto r evot ri tabl hers serva . san ther t. pa mu th e roye te an e in oe oe oe hi Fi y’s es w to as ed h He b it r ’s vi ht ev , Pe ely n , eri ! elati g s eal fo h e il s f t r i e e d vsky’ vsky vsky: s se i n h g n l sce with e) t be This st . t nge re fa m bo u ty vsky vsky so e o fa th e sk y’ e D rm i to ang y es r d of d te rs bu r n mo ve d m fr In shar M a a uns th. stae n murd e ost g h th nd the om De ves for age t on F p med t—a sign are help , ne hat ma h , im r P Jose let il ts eas reu e s er ser ha as is is H fr y to in o r cad finshe oft in ory fa th e t the self a fa om pe biog ter o y.” e evsky’ a nts hro ter wa s o ag ai n, ered ers own s e and s peo s when iate g d, fs, f t Do h you r fre g th er f en t ca nou pe rm a ph asn he no a rible e tha th he nts’ nal Folk, the e th wa A down ugh to f so t o ng er e rap stoe ascin re d whe me with o e r ple s e wr of pr e ng f violen etu fame Fr such se b d script gh t rec st ud y s pe me to o writng. self tim way, a young g h y he Dost ou th o t, ote hy, guilt ank, his Adu fed rf uilt to ous child a Do pa ri ng , ca ne nt ly re rne Do bo vsky’ as h tro t a on M k s e. d o t is ch thou ived ug h a n ted es pa ir , m you th e y Doste a ar abo ed f Dost ce. sto in tra stoevky d give for by e d oevsky ound es. told mi li ta ry In lt serfs, nt, nd when il d Dost violent act den, hod, Dostevky emor ey, wo wh home t ing evsky’ Li His heir fu and by Por ng ght Dostevky’ th ey br ot he rs Th ut kilng to a to mythol w not Do adult oevsky him fe ture; man selfy, u o w h mod t in e th e s se nd this and wo ie he f vsky’ an o who stoevky evsky: h his h he plight. ir (1837 red his a . and had e a di d o end: en s erslf Doste st Fo di ed “Christ F d ver-p man. used serf—o semi their sen co u he the est was wa io saw st or wish gi tr such eming p dr in ki ng fathe lk, resen Do gy, co mm un ic at e n, spent embling to ory ublished worked secr n s had –184 D the nt ry , ficton. as in ee ri ng , was he This The a resnt was in nal st o St . reco o plowing fathe a an Th just herita it vsky’ ca and stoevky, lo socil r roine be would a of wolf pa gen ted Broth was taken ev eir ferd w nely tly Pe te rs bu me exch 9) sum rol wander ba by . wh er e Seds self love rde p his as rt with as i s r. nt e as or, pou eral lips. e r wan his ky nce th e cho nove elationsh becaus and true. (For evn the abl sube ers t of residnt tase ange later . ns if ie d ne hey gical a cha a a yo ir ers. in cru Do st oe vs ky s ice beca ted suspicion nd he mi chi from e Mare lar of arby. th ro ug h peas ing was mo th er the l, Ka u,” mistress. bal a tualy rg , rity act Fr t can, elty; litary o rem Po ldho Revolt in hi s to ok quent be the of version ske Ea h ramzo eud’s th me pur and story is af te r Do st oe vs ky y ip, relativs. scare fro he litera or o twen nced letrs e Mare of rly mes ol de r emb nt f tch possibly then father in g engir chase a cou cha m Folk whic e di demonstr le t Petrsb oes touched folk, on .) behavior mbleatic the is te en ag e intrgu th e ed . il m h c ’ d er ure.) te rs . y lustr s re dom v, ntryside rity aled , er that watched br ot he r emoris. compasin of write out stroked of fa th er (1846), a spone n dea how whic de at h Af te r n a own ext has He ter ot in ates inated involved Th ei r and he urg smal , of ne ve r “The rible his the the but ated n moent, th wanted se rf what no his an meagr wa s was Mi kh ai l (but by of a show e the for gets his over to earth- t face rich gave d cle fami the hi s fire his wits. as the in he ar , - hero and heroine, thereby prefiguring the device of “polyphony” (as termed by Mikhail Bakhtin) of his later novels, in which the individual voices of charac - ters are heard on their own terms, independent of the voice of the narrator. After this success, unfortunately for Dostoevsky, his next work, The Double (1846), was panned. Around this time, Dostoevsky became involved with a group of young liber - als who met regularly at the home of Mikhail Petrashevsky to discuss current events and new models of society. In 1849, in the wake of revolutionary activ - ity in Europe in 1848, the government of Tsar Nicholas I cracked down on political activity. Petrashevsky and his guests were arrested, interrogated, imprisoned for months, then taken to a square in the city, blindfolded, and divided into groups of three to be executed. At the last moment, a messenger rode up to announce that the Tsar was merciful—and had decided to com - mute these death sentences to exile in Siberia. The lead-up to the execution, in other words, had been theater, staged by the authorities, to teach every - one a lesson. Looking death in the face under these cruel and dramatic cir - cumstances changed Dostoevsky’s understanding of love and death. Dostoevsky was sent to prison camp in Siberia. He wrote a work of fiction inspired by this experience. Called Notes from the House of the Dead, this work, like Dante’s Inferno, introduces readers to a hellish place of good and evil. Dostoevsky’s Notes from the House of the Dead is often seen as inaugu - rating a new genre, prison camp literature, which would be followed in Russia by Solzhenitsyn’s One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich and his monumental work Gulag Archipelago. In exile in 1857, Dostoevsky married Maria Dmitrievna Isaeva, a recent widow. Their life together was complicated on several fronts. Maria Dmitrievna had consumption; her son by her first mar - riage lived with them. Homecoming (1859–1866) Once Alexander II—who became known as the Tsar Liberator—came into power in 1855, changes were afoot: the Emancipation of the Serfs was antici - pated. (It occurred in 1861.) In 1859, Dostoevsky was allowed to return to the capital cities of Moscow and Petersburg. With his brother Mikhail, Dostoevsky began to edit a new journal, called Time, which published new Russian litera - ture, translated works, and articles discussing current events and culture. The direction of this new journal was neither Slavophile nor Westernizing. Dubbing themselves the pochvenniki, roughly “soil-people,” Dostoevsky and his collab - orators called for the educated elite to return to their roots, to regenerate native Russian ways, but without denying progress. Dostoevsky traveled to Western Europe twice, where he gambled, took in the sights, and pursued a young writer, a firebrand and freethinker named Polina Suslova, while back at home Dostoevsky’s wife was dying of consumption (1864). During this period, Dostoevsky wrote Notes from the Underground, an original novella-treatise on faith and science. The underground man, ever contrary, shows that adhering to the laws of science results in self-assertive behavior and a dog-eat-dog world, whereas true freedom is to be found in acts of selfless love. The under - ground man, however, is unable to love because he is unable to transcend his bitter self; the result is what he describes as a living death, as we will see in the next lecture.

29 LECTURE FOUR 3 0 g e a a d th ta Ch Do co Do Id se sick wa o e to So e in fa il g r n Eur sta h Do co a r Gr ce li o Cr fr le p a et ig Th In In De Afte y, sh ave nd nd ct ynami f xpect pi am o ap bo f er o m i i i m lo ngs ns mp ot i nse pyri rt G h i fa fr th u m p r st st me y. st gori l b i er w T 1 ept e i s as w s il t ain od ope n py. ut sperat rni i hi stl en . il bl ma end t e an oe oe oe 86 ial he r e t he hi i The a w Dost l b i T o f ty, a et g po n n ing nt eud a t ike ng major i ing go a of eva a e i h s o he e d vsky vsky c vsky 7 cs h rth am hig d An r rs, al a an an nd t vn Idiot, e s f n re , t int. rag p ate bro sup a nd seizu die iage ly n desp h ew hom th inter (1 fr h ro an e in oevsky Dost br dea o d na the . h a ed his in taking is wo Hiat Pu tr er om f go Dost e 867 . g edy per fo the pro oad caled Th ask ev nu S th age d jo th 186 exil tech If o? . G ir Do cou S or with nitka r rse nishm ths e come wo air spe res, e ur r B e mbe e b he r te rigo d, elativs m us fesion first n ) t, suitor to , ntu evsky oth r dy ad T na stoe cou af ep 9 ath rks a lo one inte ple, in nique m joy evsky o t com than hing sp rsed he nd f ma ter Rusia Tur (18 and So to f aile rievn lef ls aly r vsky ar ile str to child. the ent, par er ir his to rtsh , o to vsky ndi y, in o ried t a itua f f nya. de psy t Dos his uck: ge 67 f fo s an olwing: worse in or d al f Ita the than evr , with go finsh ents m d Ste Do t ba m fa wife rt, a ar the ishe ip cont his st me whic n t –187 in augh d his e o ly ar g ly d ove ce t ev Dost toevsky the tha was e enog set until ck vents. stoevky p The an in surfa eath. when lo wh d me to riage , nted to er lot ch pe furthe beau he d . griev own roled life ed and in of ( vsky. part d ho d In 1) then ter, steno st ou ich Crime set ild riod. Dostevky ands aven devot g wa 1 par h raphy. cou o dea t ay me What evsky’ ce. The al o the 871. t elp n Durin by h she tiful his After he to tle ble he to Liubo r be s is a dictae t t d his a livng ple Desp the o th co grap wry, The show credi du pu wo signed pr tha at on wri cause in Id ha d dea few b ag an It young m was Th d mplicated eply. t hap g rot esnc With e blished g io aly hat wa vist rk pawnsh D more d te an, v. red d eart t ambling her. wife th o t. e nove t dline, in eratio resdn, he in her to o mon so o Pun s him ( a is (se h o fo worked A rs n pa ens th had T like some Bade er nly h de an the novel ned ur lon pe peo he to The Doste T to in gave son, e dif l tling a rt o ths, ishment lig t he n husban of in is he nd o r out ops, riod, f years a ar g 18 Jesu if delivr help in be b Gambler , icu se ple. wed by hted. n-Bade b d ecaus The this wher con few ed. t you d ancil ma Idiot. distur would 64, Dostevky’ but Fyo rageo e en feat isturbng itself bir esird. t m in lt. the and in. vsky’ th Dostevk s. ding usem, riag of The tinued th Christlke wer F suferin mon And Rusia let d; D dor, they e uring Doste by In loren an Dostev The the bing fact ostevky’ to us pr into Ana burd sh a turn lose he e in plot ), Th other the bels. ths oudest T his a m was e end filed let contra ste en th be he tha tim Dostevky to (what ce), e tru himself lite emo the n ens pr g ove e s vsky’ o de ge compulsive finacl Dost Idiot, cause nograph be Mesn ame e y Idiot ovide from t ths ld, in born rs couple figu n sky extnd end The ts with wher was ovela to rable r he girl, ct a a the describ up the h up the about very nd re, e ke novel heard meth was with evsky life since d tok first in of Idiot the major not caled) writng being named oes victm ch hapie cop h the er ger, after setld p 187, p by T im was mesy; rob ild unde a he nove od. let his love Ana on wer a not con y the fam a p the - - one a got - ub of at a st e rs - r l - - shortly after their return to Russia.) In Dresden, Dostoevsky wrote The Devils (or The Possessed or Demons ). In this novel, Dostoevsky, looking back with a trace of nostalgia at his own youth, was disturbed by the violent—terrorist— turn that Russian radicalism had taken, and painted a bleak portrait of a downward spiral of civilization, although he does allow some hope for salva - tion, the source of which would be Russia. Novelist as Oracle (1871–1881) On his return to Russia, back in Petersburg, Dostoevsky lived less on the edge than before. It was a period of stability. He enjoyed his family life. He became an important voice in the cultural life of his nation, first editing a newspaper and then writing his own one-man journal, Diary of a Writer. His next novel, The Adolescent (also known as The Raw Youth ) appeared in 1875, around the time of Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina. Dostoevsky, though he admired Tolstoy’s novels, believed that Tolstoy’s novels depicted an out - moded and elite way of life that did not speak to the reality and pain of whole segments of the contemporary reading public. Dostoevsky touted him - self as the chronicler of “the accidental family”; his task was to create a new kind of family novel, representing families held together not simply by blood, genes, and patrimony, not simply by sacraments and contracts, but by love. As he began to write The Brothers Karamazov, Dostoevsky’s son Aleksei, born in 1875, died suddenly in 1878. The child’s death, from epilepsy that appeared suddenly, left husband and wife devastated. Dostoevsky’s wife’s memoirs record how she was so desperate that she withdrew from her family, from domestic affairs, from her husband. At his wife’s urging, Dostoevsky made a pilgrimage to the Optina Pustyn monastery to visit Father Amvrosii, a charismatic holy man. Dostoevsky returned, comforted by his experience, and wrote The Brothers Karamazov, a novel that in artistic form responds to the death of Alyosha, the second of Dostoevsky’s children to die. The Brothers Karamazov is, as the title suggests, about brotherhood: in many different shapes, forms, tones, and contexts. It asks whether we are our brother’s keeper and who our brother is. (Does brotherhood transcend blood?) The plot hinges on a parricide, but there are, in fact, multiple sus - pects to this “whodunit.” The novel is infused with a theological message— that all are guilty for all. Such a message can interfere with the dynamics of the “whodunit,” which trains readers to look for clues and suspect everyone, even if it’s only to find out that “the butler did it.” This novel appeared serially in The Russian Messenger from 1879 to 1880. Dostoevsky was at the height of fame. He was regarded as something of an oracle about Russian life. He loved it. In May of 1880, in the midst of publishing The Brothers Karamazov, Dostoevsky joined Turgenev, back from Europe for the festivities, and count - less glitterati for the unveiling of a monument to Pushkin, the father of Russian literature. Dostoevsky gave a speech in which he spoke in messianic terms about the role of Russia in the history of the world and about the capacity of the Russian people to draw from all cultures while remaining true to their own identity. Less than a year later, early in 1881, at the pinnacle of his fame, Dostoevsky died of emphysema.

31 FOR GREATER UNDERSTANDING

Questions

1. What features of Dostoevsky’s childhood left an imprint on his outlook? 2. How did Dostoevsky see his mission as a novelist?

Suggested Reading

Frank, Joseph. Dostoevsky: The Seeds of Revolt, 1821–1849. Vol. 1. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1979. ———. Dostoevsky: The Years of Ordeal, 1850–1859. Vol. 2. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1983. ———. Dostoevsky: The Stir of Liberation, 1860–1865. Vol. 3. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1986. ———. Dostoevsky: The Miraculous Years, 1865–1871. Vol. 4. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1995. ———. Dostoevsky: The Mantle of the Prophet, 1871–1881. Vol. 5. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2002. Freeborn, Richard. Dostoevsky: Life and Times. London: Haus, 2003.

Other Books of Interest

Dostoevsky, Fyodor. The House of the Dead and Poor Folks . Trans. Constance Garnett. New York: Barnes & Noble Books, 2004. Leatherbarrow, W.J., ed. The Cambridge Companion to Dostoevskii. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002. R U O F E R U T C E L

32 Lecture 5: In and Out of the Underground (A Reading of Dostoevsky’s Notes from the Underground )

The Suggested Reading for this lecture is Dostoevsky’s Notes from the Underground, The Double, and Other Stories.

Dostoevsky wrote Consider this . . . Notes from the Underground at what, As a former liberal of the 1840s, Dostoevsky found by all accounts, was himself at odds with the new radicals of the 1860s, one of the most diffi - with their belief in the absolute validity in scientific cult periods of his life. principles governing human behavior. Why did He returned from a trip Dostoevsky reject this view? abroad to find his wife Marya Dmitrievna dying of consumption. Dostoevsky, suffering from epilepsy and other ailments, continued to work on Notes from the Underground, which was to appear in Epoch in 1864. The Epoch was the Dostoevsky brothers’ replacement for their first journal Time, which was banned by the government. During this period, with serfdom no longer the issue, Russians were asking what could be done about the grave social and political problems that were facing them. Dostoevsky, a progressive of the generation of the forties, was at odds with the more militant radicals of the new generation. They had not only a different mindset, but different methods for enacting change. A major spokesman for this new group was Nikolai Chernyshevsky, whose novel of ideas, What Is to Be Done? , describes a radical new platform for a new life for “new people” in accordance with utilitarian ethics. Right living will follow when people recognize the truth of scientific laws and apply them. Even love—Bazarov’s Achilles’ heel—can be dealt with in a rational manner. Chernyshevsky’s What Is to Be Done? caused a sensation. Notes from the Underground is in part a reaction against this work. Dostoevsky rebels against the notion that human life should be subject to the laws of science and ruled by reason: Human beings are far more complex in his view. Dostoevsky did not believe that man would simply start to behave if he actu - ally knew what was in his best interests. Evil, for Dostoevsky, was far too complex, far more complicated. Notes from the Underground has a somewhat puzzling form. For the record, the first-person narrator is a fiction; he is not Dostoevsky. Also, part 1 is set in the present of the 1860s, while part 2 steps back in time to the 1840s. In part 1 of his “confession,” the underground man outlines, in his own color - ful way, a number of new ideas, which seemed a threat to conventional faith- based understandings of human responsibility: When, for instance, it is proved to you that you are descended from a monkey, then it’s no use pulling a long face about it: you have to 33 LECTURE FIVE 3 4 t d a i u m a t h H b d i a f e e i a t b st w r p f ( n s sm he o ar wo ro e w A H Ir Th Wh Th ltim o g g e o e d n xp r e l e h vol ri e a g sp o n hose s n a a d cay d ce in as wha e m nce o vi n can m e t r T Bu i n va ch yo a a ue n e e oth r can mpo e inst inst y, , pow wo i h wo ma gs at es on ng xce o s ce of wi ve ng ate ical c can mor a 186 e u re on th i a u is t, s a t n b a kes , t ing a nde ce t pte r si d u a n ye k b r make eca e he fe mu th you b to t io er “twice On the nd l pt alter he conve fan eveal rt l m f l l e he chal le bilt eh y, fr d el ecau r al 0 b re m u at ance n t ath s tw r a ate e nt folw mo lame rg f it of ster nde und lo elimna a ma use ave t a ive cie r uster r re nce re 3 fou o t u . he soul- y ails if o n he nih w-me rou l ) p t er f nde s Wh enge the m wil. s spon d hing, re for se o r m ath d nie s the the , rg erg t r” is fou g whate ath r wo i iscover o tr a a O t n t is nd akes and us ag han rea t o en whe f kilng rg l ilat cord ansl so th o twice- an is ho nt some oun rign mat his ro On and r cou te n str fe ema be sib o to ma e life, ly m but if “t is swe ou tes w io the f und inst. a th pr h ang sim wice laws n in ce an we th d ica ver noteb nd ilty, ble th r n, f rse, a um rea kes t nd ou ely ted o ing spit ejud ed hey g times tica t y two is if m tyra you e he r f pe re yo wit l sing ply man , leh t liv d r prove Wh we Specis, an a t an , laws hat teni ce r man o t on escn the belion ting. two of uns to sem in b fou rt n l hen h u laws e ices h ooks, ny be is e old for becom d the rtainy e’s the escap at’s fr les coxmb suren are 186 the pr a n a Darwin’s al d r” in ma have: u edo divne cording o mulae. g. makes of coun ref ear edt lt very you I to of of n ma are, would s result. of fact im o de t so a 4). to t Bible? ot he thema I nature Dosto he use agin ut n to dmit you t “twice ately e published he ul, reaso is thema m. der give in have o ter d The If “ charm so-caled me as object best n rmined soul. from twi ne to a ters det n othing la five.” A we I tha who fter be theo tha t to to o st ev to tics. you a to ce ws self-d of evryth m wou simply and n un two ermi e to tical su sk r t th he the a thes to a ore the esult terna a in al, s h t o re ries of derg stand twice w e nd acep y ren tha mon is Just ne d, g laws. chaleng ld to science. mo can o m in nist r laws c descn mat virtue fo laws so prof ule t mo on becaus hing de scie akes feating ma i n drop a t l 185 s in of rmula, re der. pr o key mething ound life, ic s try a do? sid t piec ny t g st hematics, t wo of ound in he a kes This tha than of with nce hu it th of bsolve 9, its s ciples to. dr er to four” f r of o no whet de re in eason v ma an ma ndre Christlke The , the r wa amtic ed man due four” ery refu the considerat king? so and your is or ape of arms form mater d this resu (chapt thema kes s wil—and, faith insu from why jungl du tha tha fo inso d , idea a best them te ver disc is twice nd no as is rmulae reason, tho and r own kin ties four of Al akimbo th rectio moents, fera noti you y in a , lenc. he the he e er mo used admit tics r the at. usand d tha reblion subject reblion eal p selv se dig he rathe Christ and scien rincples fat of 9) two is finds maint nkeys, ble. lfes like un (part g ultimae and n n, altern ha for on human detr an at and must, tha dergo of Twice tha other bar in of s o e it Da from the “twice than as f r to th 1, realy Ru love or he mig e no - ins sci min th p the e rwin a th the tive e son we sia at un er - o h , n - - t e l d - . compassion that involves loving another as oneself, deviates from what is natural, rational, and scientific. Dostoevsky also expresses the view that this kind of love and the faith in God that inspires it amount to a triumph over death: They carry with them the promise of heaven and eternal life. None of this is spelled out in part 1 of Notes from the Underground. Rather, part 1 suggests that the underground man is aware that there is some other way, which he seeks but won’t find. Part 2 provides an indirect, dramatic suggestion of the alternative. The underground man narrates two episodes from his earlier life, when he was twenty-four (he is forty when he writes part 1). The first involves a cocky offi - cer who, playing pool, picked the underground man up and moved him out of his way, as if he were a piece of furniture rather than a human being. Our underground man takes great offense and plots his revenge. This same offi - cer, apparently, when walking down the main drag of Petersburg, similarly walks right through him “as though there was nothing but empty space before him.” But when this officer meets “generals and persons of high rank,” he gives way for them. What the underground man observes, then, is that the equivalent of Newton’s laws of matter that govern how matter behaves in space, hold on Nevsky Prospect. Two bodies cannot occupy the same space; each body on Nevsky (like Newton’s bodies in space) refuses to yield unless it is acted on by another body with greater force. Force, on Nevsky, is not just physical mass, but social mass, stature, rank, and fancy dress. The social hierarchy thus determines behavior. The underground man seeks revenge. He decides that rather than give way to this officer, he will bump right into him. He plots this encounter and they bump, but the officer doesn’t notice him! The emblem of this self-assertive officer standing with arms akimbo on Nevsky harks back to part 1, where the underground man describes “twice two makes four” as a “pert coxcomb who stands with his arms akimbo.” This seems like a strange description of “twice two makes four,” but his point is to suggest that both have the effect of a bully, self-assertively blocking the way. All the underground man does in his “bumping duel” with the officer is to wage, perhaps, some protest against these rules, but without overthrowing their tyranny. The next episode similarly shows the underground man out in the world and reacting to the laws of social intercourse that seem to determine human rela - tions. He describes a meeting with some former schoolmates. The under - ground man attempts to assert himself by getting invited to one of their parties. They escape from him by going off to a brothel. They assume that he won’t follow. He is enraged and sets off by horse-drawn cab. He is so furious at their having snubbed him that he ends up beating the cab driver, who in turn beats the horse: hierarchical society breeds abuse, such that everyone gets abused from above and takes it out on someone lower on the social scale. The underground man does not find his friends at the brothel. He does spend the night with a prostitute, Liza, chosen because she looks the most downtrodden: he calculates that he will be able to subjugate her. When they wake up, however, he engages her in conversation and begins a speech

35 LECTURE FIVE 3 6 se w m d e f a l g T h o t t i i i t b t b o st co a t m “ a o a b st o so Al si se a vi e n n r ic ha he el he in à Th Th Th Sh In Th In o d cord r ra i b e e f serti r n n e n b he a d o ast mse g an an a a o r th n l g cky m xua a e je cause in ly d e o bei l n ives. st s ing ew lati ls n t m i a compasi t un t r i e e ti e n n in sn’ sel ut arms io ough g; s he e ct di g d ough h hu no ea u de ng y en asp N in o u ng is resp a na embr a d o a n e l ”: ng l re pri a a he b f. she he make t ve f, f nde ap t ma t n l d d p te l s g wit l k dife m ove eh th way. Liza puf ers l He he , l spon pr th sim erg iso cen T ab agin ma ire r o of rmin r of with he olén out way. versu insp a an of and e o ond n e ostiu h f avior p rg wha kimbo ace. exp f use s de seiz , som ligh being rou at jung th r some ply ren l int b ra co itself is rou e- ab a year lo g spirtua to se his rot in tem ired is. s a nate wit s tiona ma im e estab urse ve, S t suf ” in s nd t, t rms out g fro t te in b nds Her nd cts eth of an le he hel he to he t kind Th sexu wor h acy rying eha G th ns so pts nipu of u obse mo m by what man a b h t , ering was his Liza od, in m p. he ano at l a thin e o no reco nd ut à er the me was give with lish t p prin fo l lter ks, the h ve he g an to b L del m of ostu al lev Scientf la la th is t r, o rings. lat han iza to ga f t th se he ther ks , esag t may amily, o tiv . na fice kind situ for e as r, like o gn lo pe relat Do ciples. Na give auth words. the bu inte at way. est L h o ge in, s . “ ve: e re l, be act wil unde tive sert iza im f d d natu izes tar rt When t stoevky h polén ations should for “ th t be r, a und wil as nde im wel with someth she s io is of blow, l He oficers ority, th selfih b a e selfihy t be but Napole love, The m Liza ns—the havior t hrows a ack himself ral” o e o psycho rgo h is Her sh a ch ch discover We erg n posed imeda new is nd fe o b se th news bumpi evr she tha e a arity oices sem simply f e he she of und ha in beha suf is. his und rvant co and behavio is m ing are for ls ound stu and show on of her on, the ve t life ned ore tels ming Dost he leaving evn no logica or at ering erg in adres und tha selfy to ck hi ng els man the left vior a Nevsky y, how , dife to m self- tely s front asertin to un un to arm one re ne he insecur her: man s in eanig in fr him int ound erg s w the doesn into wonder und derg dergoun r do if mekns humilate evsky om the ed . of and e orl to rent—p the re is what o asertiv. s is tr L manipu he can ntirely an of tha ies iza ound “sit spond m tha the ar his alt dview ma unabl to ergo irato and, Ne same: conta (or round man und d ater pa doesn Liza, sh ound e g . ernat t ’s ’t a love to ke in in they cr b wton of al ve h ing sert ows in she se twice idng. beh asing tend g is erg ams man difer a fi find und—o e la s nal rsion—a Liza ma i her tha an cer, in s , with stand wil few One the tion? ma to wh in crue the ’t, k whe have Doste avior has s with a com th d, ound, the y hers . a its a action. bear m Liza two sug betwn at d to n, rough nd into tok he o ev und othe nt” days arm inst way The one ly some re can n taly for o ing deci h univers pasio or a ju wn g was t u is e other m nd and n tha he does, ergound ead lf. est , human th a terly exactly vsky but s st y “faith r place is akes with of for u talking simp dimly later, unexpctd, e to “subjgate folde” as He and one in a ndergou done wil ed up not a vulnerab pa derisv the s n of the new Darwin th it. tha, ’s serting on was self-a his in and to ly and for to. at four) rt tha on re be retali or inters in unde Liza be eslf, tuive th und self- is abo ase 2 sto main. mate m twe ar ma him Is or of e on the pr ing at g a od . ms n , e p e ly, e he ut a cri the r ilty d n e d r t t . - - rt n e ly - - - n r, - - i - Christ” to emerge from Notes as some kind of answer to the underground man’s funk. Translations Throughout this lecture, I quote from the Constance Garnett translation. Garnett’s translation may be found in Notes from the Underground, The Double and Other Stories (New York: Barnes and Noble, 2003).

37 FOR GREATER UNDERSTANDING

Questions

1. Why does the underground man object to the laws of science and mathematics? 2. Is the underground man free? 3. How is Liza’s behavior different from that of “normal” people or of the underground man himself?

Suggested Reading

Dostoevsky, Fyodor. Notes from the Underground, The Double, and Other Stories . New York: Barnes & Noble Books, 2003.

Other Books of Interest

Jackson, Robert Louis. The Art of Dostoevsky. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1981. ———. Dialogues with Dostoevsky: The Overwhelming Questions . Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1993. Scanlan, James P. Dostoevsky the Thinker. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2002.

Films

The Gambler. Directed by Károly Makk. Screenplay by Katharine Ogden. Starring Michael Gambon as Fyodor Dostoevsky. Hungary, 1997. Notes from Underground. Directed by Gary Walkow. Screenplay by Gary Walkow. Richland, WA: Gruber Pictures Production and Renegade Films, 1995. E V I F E R U T C E L

38 Lecture 6: Calculating Murder in Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment

The Suggested Reading for this lecture is Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment (first half), trans. Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky .

Raskolnikov, Consider this . . . Petersburg, and Experiential Realism The same person who commits murder is capable Dostoevsky plunges of deep compassion for others. How can these us right into the action opposites occur in one person? of this novel, without any introduction. Out of the blue we are following a “young man,” not yet named, as he leaves his closet-like room on a very hot summer evening in a slum neighborhood in Petersburg. Dostoevsky’s narrative sticks very close to this young man. We see everything from this young man’s point of view, except when the narrator steps ba ck to offer us bits of information: “Incidentally, he was remarkably good-looking, taller than average, slender and trim, with beautiful dark eyes and dark blond hair. But soon he lapsed as if into deep thought, or even, more precisely, into some sort of oblivion, and walked on no longer noticing what was around him, and not wishing to notice.” Dostoevsky’s narrative technique here fits what Robert Alter has called “experiential realism,” or “the practice of conducting the narrative more and more through the moment-by-moment experience—sensory, visceral, and mental—of the main character or characters.” Alter argues, further, that this technique of experiential realism naturally came into being in novels set in cities and written about city life. City life changes perceptions of time and space and transforms the “boundaries of the self.” And indeed, we experience, along with the main character, his own “bab - bling” about taking “a new step,” which people are “most afraid of.” We fol - low him to the apartment of an old woman. It is only at this point that we learn his name—Raskolnikov—as he identifies himself as a student to the old woman, who, we gather, is a pawnbroker. We begin to understand what Raskolnikov’s plan is. He wavers, but tries to convince himself to do it: “It’s loathsome . . . It’s absurd . . . Could such horror really come into my head?” Thanks to Dostoevsky’s “experiential realism,” we feel what it’s like to con - template being an axe murderer and we may even find ourselves sympathiz - ing with him. Is this what city life does to lonely young men when they leave home for the first time? As part 1 progresses, and before Raskolnikov’s murder of the pawnbroker and her sister Lizaveta, we learn enough to piece together more of his story. His story is a typical story, a typical “Bildungsroman,” or “novel of

39 LECTURE SIX 4 0 w o t Sh R R n a b t d Je o t m Pu so F o m v i e R m p t b g a r f i i e n s s io he ha ra ro i C Th Up R is xp f e se p e r f n r l r t d at h a a a e ur ur o u o e o i n r ci a o a cause e u omp ask her, Ada th n m it e e n n er skol skol skol e b t t h sa H sa a t ve nke he bl at i fte lo fo us rt cat novel, de de ho ha sl et i s a ta v my il un ti ne e of u l shmen ha t u l e d. me hom it at i it he in at nd r n ve n n r p p y oln n nd m ms. r. r? usa t unive y, m io s act ds er n n n asion w d hi D a a h s G er n or ni T a as th he d l d anki Be i i red nt. in It ’ sage ad n” p re kov kov ost con m. ve M eal fter a he or Od dl b iko Sm th e th scient ead . ko e e r o fr nds s s t en o a But oce ds, ar Inst a nth io ey is ta f (so t, om A s what to se wor f fter rsity. pa w th e to v’s He v’s st ud e nd ward clu go it ho mela t whole. no no evsky’ m s . lk i ge the of ), a h y x am’s the is ar s m o ead met m is bou dr he ur de od echo spital— ng dest if des tices tices l sit and in en lacks f an ner ta l his wit d Motiv nb ro ke r live e aybe evr ic ake the esd lives tha stud s , of His nt dov, uat whic city ou gh k leav im d , clea d ab o witho t h id osity. wit r, s—it’ d it “ he ed tha f o to th Lat es th i t felic oth eas in he es utio res n th a this io fa f fa en Ra sk cost m al h e es th e to ut sa ding rly th fal th n at wh ten se vor , r, a ther er on s s, er ha , “ its ou com ut t th so e n, o city nove e th fi ved mu rd er in g study f yo u Late life simlar l dres m , th is rom in om th er s re ts ey, eor Ra p stily ite to wn . force simple sand (o the er ms ta ve rn Raskolniv o meon he on fro ake e age h rey relying hear ca is ln ik ov ne th f is lif in skolniv fr g ie co ul d lp n l r, he m but th on her Engla is dea to e lcu help om ir is ed. ovels, of “b or place s th to a up wa e l girl you tha d d b sal In conver mod ro un d has t y b of is e lus” of form cause: o ra ti on al iz es ecay, rings thinks ar lives find anoth h e mone is decay ha But nderi clum for fa ct , city on t drunk er, of us e it? being “r th e it lives of and h can a to rn hmetic! s el ationl in met d Honré atching of ation” f pare work one Westr Th the Ra and go . of le hi m ects new and ( sati ve sy the er wil from he r y. Ra sk o evidntly He m it his de What aves g p and er in ten skolniv othe in and stalked ry aximzng is Kil ut man. mu ma nts; tiny th on vote tur ha ve world; he ). and mo ne y tw o ed ha R id a moth pa wn br ok er pointles ego e (pa ru r sem a de th at rde n Such cor l askolni ight; her eas ned rs!). ar h ta about e th ucation s ln ik ov behind st do lite the in er plan id d vern, evn com yourse ha at rt tism”) rets Balzc’s , from li ke wi se ir e er eas uption , a by dr if you fr and and the 1 her In nds.” dozen h s moth Rasko to om , no son ct io cr mix yo u unk, and er felicty tha e t to ha d kov’s an cha tualy h Dostevky’ ime? do of hom mo the vels he to of at to think, lose e take rule the dres lf ns . be d t . er of older ki ll socia ethics He siter pter epra ro work to Pe h he gr ea t the wil s Petrsbug ney One ov er he ar d reg lnikov be en drun Old as e something the prom is action of To fea makes out For (ha se the a her tersb siz hi ms el f to wouldn’t on so universty home, is 6) vity, ta ce rt ai n familes to l ts man. ture mu rd er death Go a capitls k ts have pines) n’t go od : Marmel es th compasin of ken lve servic co nt em pl at in g one s money, ise the takes help of Marme urg, eory, s. this riot a mu on fr up his a his Early om Crime tuor of on advn stre life, ha d the a go for hero me an to rde pro (or the th spo th more or st ud en t so way the fin her his ne e p the of lad study et, ou dov’s so fa for the ju st osi cial o no t a n fam situ on er in tag th e r wh to - n an ta o ov an . o an d . cia ly: wn er - in r - to a d ily o e y d - l Raskolnikov intercedes on her behalf. A policeman hears the commotion, and Raskolnikov explains what has happened, gives money for her cabfare home, and sets off on his way. Raskolnikov expects nothing in return. There is no self-interest involved. Why does he do this? Out of compassion. But then Raskolnikov starts to reason and second-guess his kind act. Every thought of violence contemplated in the name of social theory is bal - anced by an act of compassion, and every act of compassion is undermined by social theory. Raskolnikov, musing on the fate of young women in the city, thinks in terms of the “moral statistics” of the Belgian social scientist Adolphe Quetelet: Every year, they say, a certain percentage has to go . . . somewhere . . . to the devil, it must be, so as to freshen up the rest and not inter - fere with them. A percentage! Nice little words they have, really: so reassuring, so scientific. A certain percentage, they say, meaning there’s nothing to worry about. (part 1, chapter 4) According to Quetelet, no matter how society is structured, a certain percent - age of the population will become prostitutes, a certain percentage murderers, a certain percentage commits suicide, and so on. Quetelet’s theory turns indi - viduals into statistics. Raskolnikov’s behavior leading up to the murder thus shows a pattern: When he acts from the heart, spontaneously, in the spur of the moment and in relationship to others, he shows compassion; he seems incapable of vio - lence. But when he starts to reason, to calculate, then he is all too ready to regard his fellow human beings as statistics; he becomes capable of murder. Raskolnikov’s Dream We gain insight into Raskolnikov’s psychology from a dream Raskolnikov had of his childhood, when he was with his father on a feast day, an occasion for communal drunkenness. As they pass the tavern, a peasant named Mikolka invites other peasants to hop into a cart, to which is harnessed an old mare. Everyone tells him he’s crazy, that the horse is far too old and weak to pull them all. But Mikolka declares: “I might as well kill her, she’s not worth her feed. Get in, I say! I’ll make her gallop! Oh, how she’ll gallop.” What’s of interest here, aside from his unbearable cruelty, is that he is in fact making a calculation. It’s not just wanton, drunken violence or cruelty to ani - mals. This horse is clearly old, with limited utility, with not much work left in her. But if she were healthy and strong—and therefore a money-making machine for him, then he wouldn’t be treating her this way. Mikolka’s reason - ing, whereby he calculates the cost versus income of the horse, smacks of the social theories and utilitarian thought that Raskolnikov has learned since going to Petersburg. Mikolka asserts that the horse is his property, and there - fore he can do as he wishes; he can play God. There is an implicit reference here to the relationship of landowners to serfs and husbands to wives, since these were two other contexts where abuse was tolerated on the grounds that serfs and wives were the “property” of masters and husbands. But in many ways this dream is not only about Mikolka and the violence of Russian peasant life. It is also about fathers. Witnessing the scene, Ras- kolnikov appeals to his father, as an authority: “Papa, papa, papa, what are

41 LECTURE SIX 4 2 “ e p i ti T R e a t r a t th e h h h L p Sh t t se d l t r u f i i t f o n a o m r p a L h th m mpa it v n ; g n hy ice hr ol o r o y e h t a atio l L W Be In Th ons ve ris r nd nd awn n er ove xp o i e u e sk: est uzhin as tl m. e ro e , e s k n a uz d e r r zhin scrib e n r e h ma o mi e e d e v l o he e e r op se s i h t e e ntu ecti ms fo ne pa ug ugh s eys ko he an na tha amen r o n ts o h hin h t Rasko pro c Ra ght is n i o d br for i o n re you ve as por ry. f o t t “H su i wn h ln for a h e e o d ter al g d r liz L , e r n of e c oker t h Ra t skolni an o hbo vid rw ik ov uzh ar p t t w ave the u o o d g ly rowd p d olds re elimnat lo “ thin e h he tuni e, !” u f n g i m br ok er rse ? g erson a es a In al r e ith Li be t—is gues sk ol a s he l st a d pl nd tri e r s e l a s At o t ln and wom l zaveta, s in r”—t n o s o f d s crowd n t m w lf acing k: u b ty ckl at p a P L you the th at t h al he ikov the the rea mi n f t o .” , being a s t m m il s l o of e h ov ort or ni his l o t T an (fo ! s s e n i s l stake ou ing p . g n i h . that l st om out ate calcula ko v v sce , y be he ooking here al h an e new d m , a t u mur e h Cl ea rl y m o c — g on no mo t e g w o h s r e ru tmo emb run up- po “ suf m o C “ Thy un with re sp on the to h, down rna love e e r ’ y e h t s i h alo ve o l t e who ns ne gr ge akes wa ke s f ve nds, der, ac h in ear e H n i ken ive s k o beco social an will fer pe th wh de ry ay- ” ra l ne t neral d whe pe in te e v l o v n o s p m o c Neigh a e pr ou e t t i L h d- thy rs in rse, e ces f is ic a hi m e o d of fo r ou e be to in be rfect whic long h ag Rasko ot the pea n o l a p u him ct iv e se g. coming on t and h , g n o l a me orse possibly e l n a e b wakes up , for n i ection. God, ndatio arde the oth neighbor” tho ain is hi s ). d p no But him, t ’ n s one , o t is he to n o i s s a ther a R next sant, rosperity bor n a d g by clear crime) al spe ha number ers. g n i t ught: —a in he . to process ha murder. pe r Raskolniv , lnikov brea d, o k i n l o k s o t He h e e s the whe s or o c d b th e asking re co il . r e g n e lawyer ve up. day, is nd t ’ n o lody. wh d be to fe ct ly In e h t ch preg e m . o to what, is thro o many utilitarianism, ho k ks han f e n O ( pi ty to dr ea m re en ich take upo Luzhin’s with We s disap et R t u B in mang u j will one, k o o l rr o h e m o he o l a fre wi th pass murdering ws askolni But nant. the hical ; e c i t s v if ie replac d “What whic ca lc ul at ed whom on give His n e s r you se e e p x e eg fee “love t ! g n a r a o c ” ! s i h finding es his d g n i h t autho nd with then f wa s ot he rs . ho r mor met rom ointed up d l u e h T at fa s es ls . b ult ha e h her h T speech, ehavior y a m Miko . arms kov him tries ther s t c he di ro r . as th e his thyself,” d ” . al t the fr ir th e Thus, g r a Ra o e r ’ y e b a his rites d s f y b om rational t u B r e h t a pro out, not though t ’ n s e o s i h sta . bre at (an they y siter a lka Lu the th mu rd er finaly t u o o s l a A de skolnikov to e u wealth aro co mp as si on at e f a ft er patri o th e ather. udly nd. each zhin ak vil!” e h t only d e h t a f le ug ht r d in ca by new in on Raskolnikov youn a h t s i h t s ’ und . the ad may e b , k n u th e n both th ou gh t fre . all Dunya r t , And chance, o egotism, cathes this f It d t . ( h t a but y rchal the a e h t individual . an , r him part of eclar law, a t i s b The read g her the is ct . k o t dr ea m, gn i m o c e be h t starts e r ’ y e h t n o i t a r and il d . r e , n o i t a u Raskolni sp il li ng Old th is r one to to pawnbroker Hi s p o t s e prosperity awy e n i l . rationaliza 2, en an discerned the m au too has es n a c this of . resto o h t u a r) tear that an and ho . chapter d ra. im me di vo capitali we o i t a z i l a tha to goes mu rd er i the when s i si de law e h t good th e kise agr ld o d enter gn i y a l p ma ice is bl oo d t u b . reason, He s’ t I “ the New ar . t i r of p also “lo b e re ad n o .” n e of y o ju v a e h t o f s of sm. he - at e or - th n ve d the s f 5 but ng e gi - t ), a - - - t The Napoleonic Hero Raskolnikov is horrified by Luzhin because he sees in him a kind of vulgariza - tion of his own, much bolder theorizing. We learn later in part 3, chapter 5, that Raskolnikov has published an article, “On Crime,” which was read by the police inspector Porfiry Petrovich. Its content seems to have convinced Porfiry Petrovich that Raskolnikov is guilty of the crime, but he knows that he lacks evidence and will therefore need to make Raskolnikov confess. He thus engages in mind games with his suspect, mind games that have been thought to inspire a lot of prosecutors’ techniques in subsequent crime drama, in differ - ent media. In Raskolnikov’s article, he argues that certain “extraordinary men”—a very small percentage (!) of the population—have the right or even the duty to break existing laws, to commit crimes, including “removing” “one, or ten, or a hundred or more people” if that would be the means necessary to achieve their ends. Raskolnikov cites as examples of extraordinary men Newton, Mohammed, and Napoleon. In this theory, people can be murdered with impunity. People cease to be God’s creatures, created in the image and like - ness of God; they become ciphers, statistics. Raskolnikov’s extraordinary man theory is a complete demotion of God. Individual men and especially an extraordinary man like Napoleon can play God. Raskolnikov has persuaded himself that he is one of these Napoleons. And yet, for all his Napoleonic delusions, there is a kernel of compassion in his soul. Translations Citations from Crime and Punishment are from the translation by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky (New York: Vintage/Random House, 1993).

43 FOR GREATER UNDERSTANDING

Questions

1. Which part of Raskolnikov pushes him to commit murder and which part makes him recoil from it? 2. On what grounds did new social theories deny the value of acts of charity?

Suggested Reading

Dostoevsky, Fyodor. Crime and Punishment. Trans. Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky. New York: Vintage/Random House, 1993.

Other Books of Interest

Alter, Robert. Imagined Cities: Urban Experience and the Language of the Novel. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2005. Bloom, Harold, ed. Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment. New York: Chelsea House Publishers, 2003. Knapp, Liza. The Annihilation of Inertia: Dostoevsky and Metaphysics. Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press, 1996.

Films

Crime and Punishment. Directed by Lev Kulidzhanov. Screenplay by Nikolai Figurovsky. Russian (Soviet Union), 1969. Match Point. Directed by Woody Allen. London: BBC Films, 2005. X I S E R U T C E L

44 Lecture 7: The Power of Compassion in Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment

The Suggested Reading for this lecture is Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment (second half), trans. Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky .

The Woman Consider this . . . Question in Crime and Punishment Why is the protagonist of Match Point reading Crime This lecture looks and Punishment ? How does Woody Allen’s film first at what in the respond to Dostoevsky’s novel? nineteenth century was known both in Russia and England as the “woman question.” Crime and Punishment reflects Dostoevsky’s own engagement with the woman ques - tion in the way it asks what women do when they need to earn money. Perhaps the most significant step Dostoevsky takes in Crime and Punishment is to make readers wonder whether marriages of necessity or convenience (to secure the financial welfare of one’s family) amount to prosti - tution. Dunya’s engagement to Luzhin has an aura of social respectability about it, but it is twinned with Sonya’s act of selling her body for her family by becoming a prostitute. Readers are forced to ask whether there is much dif - ference in what they do. Dunya and Sonya both “sell themselves.” In Crime and Punishment, Dostoevsky raises disturbing questions about the courtship plot, which is at the heart of so many proper novels. His intent is not neces - sarily to indict Dunya, by showing her to be no better than a prostitute. Rather, Dostoevsky is, in his own way, protesting against a culture that thus blurs the boundary between marriage and prostitution. Crime and Punishment shows limited options for working women, with emphasis on their vulnerability to abuse: washing floors, sewing on collars— even being a governess ends in humiliation. (Lizaveta keeps house for her sister, but her sister beats her; Sonya at first tries to do piece-work as a seamstress, but her employer claims the collars were crooked and takes the work she has done but refuses to pay; Dunya suffers the sexual advances of Svidrigailov and humiliation when she serves as a governess for the family). Some of the working women in Crime and Punishment succeed—but at a price. The pawnbroker takes full advantage of her customers’ economic des - peration. Three German women in the novel, all associated with the sex trade, appear to prosper: the boss of the bordello, whom Raskolnikov meets at the police station; Sonya’s boss; and Svidrigailov’s landlady, who procures under-age mistresses for Svidrigailov. As Nina Pelikan Straus and others have noted, a culture of violence to women pervades Crime and Punishment. Everywhere Raskolnikov turns, women of all ages—most notably underage—are being abused and violated.

45 LECTURE SEVEN 4 6 i yo e s i s s a t m a h a h k m Wh f m t a M So f t h h t a f w t ve Wo m a p i a R An t t R ng nro m he ro he am ho el ow d n u o e h e h Go We R Th oc pe tep in ye ls sk owe cc av n o a ft n i s a s a uc a o a a t ent u l r e d wevr s d n o i s s k s a m n d h o d s t n r y kin se u ethr ia o me ard u ec e M ad i r f t i l p s b n w a p me ve ya k k he mo h,” ly. on j be er. ey) g al he ge Rasko he rdi often of e n s, ust dif ma o k i n l o o k i n l o his l R v arm “to ht h g n l o s of i l rn th . n i er rse su e n a ne l n Ma t C w ther, f u t b ado i A He he hig h er Ra n e skolniv he n y o s b f ments ought g , lo , n i s i til ut bea th Wh or h t hri o k i as s Ma ve el ecau rosity. s doesn’ lf go wom re con much” o es, ita ve. r to re h r is a i c o e skolniv hli b sog t i m i adov m lnikov v v nt C v sufe is utlawe e k o sti i her n ave cal f v cer e o rm es K stline” ria n rati ri elado cu , s i e ghts is ha sh in n e e w t an a vi e s i a aterina v o me d n se L w n o i t a gy an, self, wa l elado usually r tho n s n ltur tain n o s e o P to onal a th ith ring Bu t o t t .l e d n a ced ano o n l s s e i r o e h of. em princip ve ove s etersbu fou she his is oper as re d a an the h n r s. make v e as do to p u t ly s i h ties t as sh by being bod he f o pr ) a ( ther ( d an tha whe v’s nd So ma int his tha principles, b a e h ub To?) wh desc t Ivan (p that, a con “p d a aken e ate Pun eac d ma e m a n scien G d o to nya u o is ar “ r les, t t on re pity, it e h t ie th g t ole woman , o d tough n d o rg ch ied eth h tha t s i s a o God flict t utlok ovna, d e h w g n i ke increa science. eolgica th hes ribe t the e er ishm in es according Raskolni 1, murd s ’ ance: e h t in adv by at with r dr Mar os, M h r e n o i t a com he decisions kind his n i between is Raskoln chapt o t c o unke ninetee b e r the uch way. wil the Sonya’s Son m o ut decisio ent r a z i L as u m love melado n a i s s u R dr wh ho si e h t er who the is, ntage dream e pasion, y W a , l a n es of 1 arthly a p for doctr has wever e d r ich nd Mod ya: is gly er 860s, t it a t e v und on’t All e h t c i v gen . f tha b — n o i s s u c l a c stor give orgiven to full ha nth-century rep i v 2). , r ns, becom r kov, is d Yo fa be ehar she a of s d n e , ern v in loving erstan o i t a z i m i f t some s rawn , he b eral cc fathe irst a , ith- y, resnt antih u s of weighs is e Marm o h w t o would u his loved or ds does her g n i t a l and or n no o f just social does h s e g g d intimations the inspired or met f advocate d welfare es h on’t sal u j es r o f e b moth r, into y ting p in ding her ape theological beha to y a m etical al y f i t s fo i s eladov ultimae go wo . e v o l a n g t mu cr a y, , s t l fo d i s rgiven the t is an is ju s equivalent his fo to f o the tho sin iticize this tha pr r nder er’s e drink love is dge, nig M ch,” love. vi nothi e b ul , e other a e h t t ra ostiue n e m o w love he t d n a in pros o ught, a vio T o sou com t i l p s d tional s i h r rmela fe “tough s i h pre “in (how p a , that mind. al runka e m whethe recaling a m a n g e r lenc nd you in (an mine Sonya and s again? She nd nd r e t f a and poin views, g urde and d a e h pas our sent tha d n i k s r e p Englad.” which , s n a from siter’ Son d sh dov h theories, or to she h w of don’t compasi Social doesn’t extrm ow, love,” d, new t time .t n ort toward r, cons. e h con io help , y t i l a n o r not , an o f o n e for ya’s world Marmeladov’ a his Marmeldo not h c i h w f it’s in n you his earns Luke d n was of view with s t i m m o c e v o l calu enabler. tribued he and e h “loving does the com god love daugh worth fed a workers da shrink love Sonya, ) b ( e) can’t He stop with fe wo with maki mir r u m n 7:4 ugh ta s i s i ne h t on rati embo h pasion late n. o o c er not vern m also, ls wil h i acle os l a e l l i f s d gi too ter onal an e A to m te e its ng to . Her . t i e — a r v v n. nd g - r r s , d d - s fI - How does Raskolnikov respond? We’ve already seen him being buffeted about, alternating between his rational self and his compassionate self. As the novel progresses, however, he is drawn more and more to Sonya and her world(view). But he meets with it elsewhere in Petersburg as well. After he has been horsewhipped by a driver, a mother and child give him a coin, “in Christ’s name.” Their act of pity is an expression of the kind of love that Sonya embodies. But it turns out that they take him for a beggar, which he’s not. And does their act help him? Does it alleviate his suffering? He ends up tossing the coin into the River Neva, and feels as though he’d cut himself off from humanity as if with scissors. At this point, you may agree with Luzhin and Lebezyatnikov and say that compassion really ought to be outlawed. But Dostoevsky doesn’t stop there. In part 2, Raskolnikov is out wandering in his post-murder daze and happens to be there when Marmeladov has been hit by a carriage—he really is one of those drunks the cabdriver who hit Raskolnikov was complaining about being hard to avoid. We again see Raskolnikov interceding with a spontaneous act of compassion (he takes Marmeladov home and offers money). He simply does what his heart tells him to in that moment. Raskolnikov is profoundly moved by all that he has witnessed since bringing the dying Marmeladov home. His wife Katerina Ivanovna is left asking how she will bury her husband and how she will feed her children the next day. As he is leaving, Raskolnikov gives Katerina Ivanovna twenty rubles. When Raskolnikov steps in like that, he acts out of a spontaneous and free sense of compassion, and not because, rationally speaking, he is responsible. When Raskolnikov gives money to the Marmeladovs, his gesture recalls that of the mother and child who gave him the coin on the bridge. It’s typical of Dostoevsky’s mode of composition to have one encounter echo a prior one. Dostoevsky often takes the same components and shuffles them about. In both cases, a carriage accident figures in. Raskolnikov was whipped for being in the way by a driver who mentioned that it would be easy to run over drunks like him. Raskolnikov is not actually drunk, but this becomes a self-ful - filling prophecy when the drunken Marmeladov ends up under the hooves of a carriage. Raskolnikov, in leaving the money for the victims, echoes what the mother and child had done for him. Raskolnikov, at that point, responded by tossing the coin into the water. But now he is returning the kindness. His behavior here suggests that although he tossed away the actual token of pity and compassion, their gesture was not lost on him. He is responding in kind! As he goes down the stairs from the Marmeladov family’s room, he is like a man condemned to death “who is suddenly and unexpectedly granted a pardon.” A young girl, called Polenka (or Polechka), one of Katerina Ivanovna’s chil - dren, comes running after him. As Raskolnikov guesses, she has been sent by her sister Sonya. Her mission is to find out the name and address of Raskolnikov and invite him to the funeral. The scene is carefully choreo - graphed: The child stops on the step above Raskolnikov (to make man and child more equal). And, indeed, the scene is about them meeting, face to face. Dostoevsky places them outside of the temporal world, outside of nor - mal time and in an apocalyptic or heavenly time. Gone are the divisions that

47 LECTURE SEVEN 4 8 h ki m so D l l Svi p R h e b R e h a e m i h e h D t Ka c S o h a Po w R w r w t p h d d d n o ive o r e e Svi Th U Fr D Af t i m m o i l e r e r e o e i o e h l u a a h a it h s o s ng ay vis s a r r o o p a sp a h r . te r ost r e m r l evo i o h p r nya skol skol o skol ich o te t d ng r d , k e h “ l ys ma r u t fi e wi f i w m i avi T e om al li I’ f m a h s erna d e o t beyon m ep rig ect rmine w as ry t a th h God ha r b ke on m hen ri o oe l in s a e n e t a e fo ke hi le l s i e s ga r e h e o i the thi a n ly n n so n u n i Pe s v f lfa s t s: for not he a nto fr m a r, d e , y l e a vsky m r aving ilo i i i bet whic a gne fe um d kov, kov. kov a C is ilov , a s om also stru s rts Christa n o c y k h e l d n Po re. fo r self tro Svidr w e i d v to mine o f p tle the er r y l i p he u s inf we bot sur espo s a f i r c oma e p ov r o r kiln go s showing a R oint lenka r of p vich wil t o a ctur ju God d and its se b W si , r d i c i lu e r t i t s ir n v e just be n r en d , l a n o i t i her d e c i a ren od h ut, dge fa e h Raskoln ce h q st ig to d e m a o k s enc izy, her t n e s inte is n in m u a atr uestio g n i h t y r e g nds p mily o cause n e t u er, ailov ms n . , e an rta s r a Ra e ed timacy a t s o r n, der ot u . ju come vio him And ask an , e dult o k i n l ea loving ed. xercis nd ltima who , . ract e h d n a st d in s So skoln Ra let t . t by on to in lation ing Ra d o o d n a fro n i s a K t u t i d n a th re n o S self, e s r d just ns, evil? Ma When nya iko and it d sug h Lu io ly skolniv he v oe Raskolni r himself e e Raskolni ’ s u s e J aly!” m w skolniv o t eplac e p e to e v a ely, a — e -k to wou n witho mb a f l t dame po tha’s termin il zhin ikov o t v n r u sn’t , a y an f do d n whom has . in e v a h gest so Svidrga g r o a n r and to t u o o him ch Th se live He lice racing dnes. g i r d i v S f d So o i v wn es ld me s he s r e h o f ch il eks . g n i v i e v o m u is ut m e used d gon f o e m i t o t —and kep t fel xist ask se nya the r not nds tha d e t a l Reslich. a e e h sta ild et an h fina que an a ultimae l l a nd Sonya vil. shut e v o l t s y n o S a i l i m u socia tha ny o ren v’s e m v t d ilo him. m b m e d . , v o l i a o m p e fo the ut this , io win up rea r e h in l s A Rasko wh stion b He his her wh the h w y v e m with r o y n, t in eyond li his le hat f comes it rotic a h a fe kils ma r o l ale s o hearin po son n l o k s a R d e t e m i d o o g n u way s Th e s o im m n i s , So t has name is inter re l whet he ast ou r e h t wil h w e h t i decison fr She b ba r e h is in ne s this kes nts . lni po e f and nya, y iend rom him edg d n a t. t, and r o Svidrg Svi proces op ck r i g o a n wf left sce fo actions God i Dost kov die. sib nter s her g b back a s . t n her s i is a lives b f u r en angled ut , s l e m b i s p e t driga s self, Befo an fema a u a c e v o k i reach and lo R e n ne theo behind last n i r e f . f o a r bout . l l e w a view le Is I r o m u she azumikhn. an ng. d T to t a rom sociated y l r a ab positve ailov evskian fe g u s a heir to is r to f Svidr re a ilo d the le or ig d t s a e l atemp in ry t o n el nea e s g ; s g n i l r u p out fter ing rem . ebat haun wil how ht wan e h S live the v, th s t s e g h d e tha , r e t h g u a d This n i u r th so . to embr , s e c i tra o e fascinte vilan e rly ne who e betwn wh igalo f a each ories arkble love justify a o t e n o sad, witho ts f diton h t — t i she d e t wo s t n e r feling, m r o coinde nswer d e h s xt ordina t g ethr amounts in him, isturb e v a h his t a h t to to ace ets s ’ t i fascinte to rld. n u D v h Svidrgalo, the f o other about loves so de bla s a h ut o im, t a al truly vulne his the shot e l d n u o b “ a f s, h is m o h w r e h d e t o v e d Gone in h monstrae ing God, sad!— r e d r u m h .a y ethics, ily : e v o l nove ckmail e , s i m o o r e a is to, inted he selfih e v i g r o f many lthoug may a himse and able would r t to th t i p s e d by rabilty night family, s eu ask e l. ren to the is t I to a h h r f Not s’ g b e a ”. s s e to mo si s th h en s - e d n n d y lf ts r, e e d - - should live or die. Or his suicide could amount to a recognition of despair on his part: Dunya’s inability to love him may have affected him. Perhaps even Svidrigailov needs human love after all. In the end, Raskolnikov confesses. Epilogue: Repentance and Redemption? One of the major questions that this novel provokes relates to the epilogue. Many readers and critics have protested: “Who is Dostoevsky kidding in sug - gesting that Raskolnikov could ever repent of his crime and be born again?” In prison camp, we see further evidence of the rational, judgmental side: Raskol- nikov justifies his crime, perhaps only suggesting that he himself wasn’t quite up to it, but that maybe some stronger and truly “extraordinary” man could have pulled off the murder with impunity. Ultimately, however, Raskolnikov has a dream that seems to suggest that all such theorizing about who should live and who should die is wrong. There are no extraordinary men is the conclu - sion he comes to. All are subject to divine law. Dostoevsky times Raskolnikov’s “conversion” so that it coincides with Lent and Easter, suggesting that he, too, may be born again. Playing a role in his conversion from a distance—from outside the prison gates and by proxy—is Sonya, who brings him the New Testament that he keeps under his pillow. As the epilogue ends, we are told of Raskolnikov’s illness and of his change after the illness. Dostoevsky then gives signs of an upsurge of love that Raskol- nikov feels for Sonya. Is this motivated? Yes, for all along we have certainly seen him capable of love of this sort. Will it last? Dostoevsky leaves this up to faith. As the novel ends, however, Dostoevsky has Raskolnikov pull out from under his pillow the New Testament. He doesn’t read it yet, but there are seven years left. Translations Citations from Crime and Punishment are from the translation by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky (New York: Vintage/Random House, 1993).

49 FOR GREATER UNDERSTANDING

Questions

1. How does Crime and Punishment address “the woman question”? 2. Why is Raskolnikov drawn to Sonya? 3. Is the epilogue of the novel believable?

Suggested Reading

Dostoevsky, Fyodor. Crime and Punishment . Trans. Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky. New York: Vintage/Random House, 1992.

Other Books of Interest

Straus, Nina Pelikan. Dostoevsky and the Woman Question. London: Palgrave Macmillan, 1994. N E V E S E R U T C E L

50 Lecture 8: Leo Tolstoy and the Search for Meaning in Life

The Suggested Readings for this lecture are Leo Tolstoy’s A Confession and Other Religious Writings and A.N. Wilson’s Tolstoy: A Biography.

Tolstoy’s Early Life Consider this . . . Leo Tolstoy, Count Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy, The “crisis” that Tolstoy underwent in the late lived from 1828 until 1870s arose when Tolstoy ceased diverting himself 1910. He was not only a from ultimate questions and faced them more great novelist, but directly. But these questions had been lurking in increasingly toward the his consciousness all along. end of his life, he became a voice of morality that echoed throughout Russia and far beyond. For Tolstoy, being a novelist was just one of the things he did. Among the other callings he considered or tried his hand at were diplomat, lawyer, soldier, gentleman farmer, pianist, teacher and pedagogical reformer, wannabe peas - ant, linguist, paterfamilias, arbiter of the peace for newly freed peasants, bee - keeper, dairy-cow breeder, hunter, vegetarian activist, advocate of sexual abstinence and zero-population-growth, biblical scholar, sage, pilgrim, pacifist, anarchist, teetotaler, and opponent of the death penalty. Tolstoy had an active, logical mind, which made him attuned to, and troubled by, contradictions. Tolstoy was born the fourth of four sons (a younger sister was born after him) on the family estate of Yasnaya Polyana, which he subsequently inherit - ed and which he loved beyond all measure. He lived there for most of his life, raised his children there, and worked the land: It was the constant in his life. Tolstoy’s childhood was marked by death. His mother died when he was a toddler, leaving a void he spent his life trying to fill. Tolstoy’s father died sud - denly in 1837 when Tolstoy was about eight or nine. Tolstoy’s most leg - endary childhood memory is of playing a game with his brothers during which they would make a tent and huddle together seeking solace. Tolstoy’s older brother Nikolai claimed that they were being “ant brothers.” Tolstoy scholars have suggested that this idea derived from Tolstoy’s brother having heard about the “Moravian Brethren” and conflated the word for “Moravian” with the Russian word for “ant.” The Brethren, who emphasized love of Christ and faith based on direct contact with the Gospels, fit the iconoclastic Tolstoy. This game of ant-brothers left an imprint on Tolstoy: this brotherhood of orphans clinging to each other in love. In essence, his life may be seen as a crusade to re-create that aura of a brotherly love. Repeatedly, from the autobiographical memoir to the fictional retelling, Tolstoy told the story of his boyhood falls from religious faith into a spiritual void and from innocence into sexual depravity. Over time, Tolstoy’s childhood

51 LECTURE EIGHT 5 2 T p p l o a w t w d i C t b f si o ca a o e i u yo Ske t t C a t g r m T o d A p a a b b a n n he o ro ru o he e D Kn Eve Fr To r e f suming e l th b f xa se r a f i r l n y e ur ol o it h m r dol nd g o g ar so u o m a e ime m u e a a surd m d li is ponde stin Tolst hi m e h ul il o a stoy sic, e gresiv l sure ge pl ef l mpl d o of som r. san y-w th gover f dho y, t sto a d m s can bl r d ami hi che he d l hi n in wi a es f an y ra by amily u i As a ne an ki i i l n se o s a p of s w n n ong b hi i si ng y “ra g roes. an rit e his ts, ty, d oy, f de ce ge ar od ng g ethin dro efo older l s, ait own ain: v, e , Rusia on y ase. s To se th r e the i discue War h nme ( ticp n stra d gs af de r nc nr , or tha ho tha hou exp Tolst so t ad e of ie to los g, cor ed lif re wa pe h un lst Bo frien at ter ole atiu bts en in e “ ok e her Th w l g o br in pla d a . d t nge Th wh t The tem oy ating br til wr nt? t , p s er f se yho a urin rou iers an the he withou othe d descr arb youn se, d n e ma white t o ocen d wr oth in chao d o’s e wer ie the n itng ich ate y is f ho ou d de. d a pting Or Tolstya in Bu ble nce th was r fo it virg ne t g itra set t Em ny ags he ers a kno po d, in r Ear me t mo e s at Ya in tho lar re gove r t Tolst g th nd t t ibng xt he p s. a a t libe clo p ry to th so int no You in to wil an ma re nd m e me u h bo th ger t , wn snay re tr we ther aying to ly he do o ph And p oficer e e ity Tolsty Un use sur r ying war— a vels e th,” f his cipaton cogn b of espit ut rnm ra ine mbe set a pr Sieg find re A xy re ase white flow.” th, n ad a stay in a y in t . iversty ting o du sch view, oduce Sevasto s vi trodu ch the tru d g was To e) “ent was ent War the ms about to ab whic a at “e Polyan oes e s i r a ltho of e a zin agrin ce w ol in lst played pr o the nd strang fro out swindle fro cloth By care o soldier trave o pa hraled” f his a decr inde of no g ostiue ne ction, of whic oy ero f a and th a on nd m od m other of sio Seva at it fter serf caling Vietna clin educa of Sevastop Serfs e po war, and life God. point d de: b fig and led to mnity. the Kazn, wil Yasn g efamilrz emn oth ers l Peac to e a s n, , entry. or a hting, serf n ca stopl fea the T a ra role hu by pr t first at ote ra sight, fierc be at while habit, o withou olst nd ting w som To m. side, To a tha tches the ther ay ofun ise man tured m, Par as t” Yasny this an Out ficto put lst lstoy, , tha then not rec but oy O ol pre Th ( wil himself. ething has or white r in he mo durin oy Po ne is, ear efusd h than bat evn Sketch idea. t e began end awy of and the e d sentd who nalized only w th ga “defa s a rat the ive lyan, ney.) ha r w climax live of ly was a gaine as ecald sig wh e coner the le mbling her noya g her read the flags d d age t o the , to Polyan ad avors—in next he have o As bored th in fing, with milarzton” se wh . to o His es. his nig bein to wa Tolsty nly . do e dicton than in n d com h rema . acou n h er, sel . T of ich fla is futile publish tha art nce, witne g e , ofer, an day Real olsty s Sevastopl an first with the ben mo rea g mo a with Tolsty Child gs, los hobned forcin by te man re d the recogniz . tr la anouce n signfy dest , kable ive t Why nt star re te eatd once sulted his ser but his sed bel presnt fa himself. joined throug wa cureny, sa at the of rms e ders main hod tels of woman ct his g ious njoyig techniqu t serf, ying r, the teachrs. d ): to faith gra him came to the wait are. estruciv pligh agin for acording a descr of for trilogy, a in it. it, wer the kil par time nts is guilo bout the tr the co tha me its a or with (His most but F pe ven for izng uce th the t o e t as up pile m o of y ib th es e he e r t , nt a of th f - r m - o e ch - e r f , - e tining that disturbed him profoundly. Years later, in his Confession, Tolstoy would name this experience as the one that made him want nothing more to do with civilization or progress if it justified such an immoral act. Tolstoy vowed always to follow his heart, which told him, for example, that an execu - tion is immoral. Throughout his life, Tolstoy often found that his conscience put him at odds with the activities of the government at home. During this period, starting in 1858 and ending with his marriage in 1862, Tolstoy had an affair at Yasnaya Polyana with a married peasant, Aksinya Bazykina, who bore him a son. His diaries record him marveling that his feel - ings for Aksinya are not those simply of a “stag” but those of a “husband.” Distressed by turning thirty, Tolstoy proposed to the eighteen-year-old Sophia Andreevna Behrs, known as Sonya. She was the daughter of a family friend. They settled into married life. Tolstoy, like Levin in Anna Karenina, gave his bride his bachelor diaries to read; these diaries shocked and tormented her. Tolstoy, no doubt out of respect for his new wife, put Aksinya and their child into the background of his life, without seeming to accept paternal responsibili - ty. We don’t really know what Tolstoy felt, although he is on record, very late in life, as having expressed remorse for his behavior with Aksinya. Tolstoy’s marriage has been subjected to a great deal of scrutiny, in part because each spouse left behind written chronicles of their long marriage. Tolstoy clearly felt the strong desire to create for himself on his estate with his new, and constantly growing, family some kind of realm apart from the rest of the world, a haven from society and from the temporal order, both of which Tolstoy considered quite corrupt. And Tolstoy felt strongly compelled to carry on the legacy of his family, to preserve his patrimony—in the sense of the land, the traditions, and the values—and pass it along to his children. Tolstoy felt this sense of responsibility for family legacy in part because two of his brothers had died young, and his remaining brother lived with and then married a gypsy mistress; his younger sister’s marriage had been disastrous and she herself was involved in a love affair. The family legacy, thus, was in his hands. His wife appears to have tried very hard to conform to her husband’s expectations of how she should be and of what their family life should be. Tolstoy took joy in life at Yasnaya Polyana, with his wife and their ever-growing nuclear family, their extended family, but even then his feelings were mercurial. War and Peace During the early period of his marriage, Tolstoy set about writing what became War and Peace. Tolstoy knew he wanted to write about national identity and about the contemporary state of his class, the Russian nobility, but then determined that to understand the current state of the nobility, it was necessary to look back in time to previous generations. That’s how he came to the decision to write about the events that led up to the War of 1812 and the aftermath. Here we have a typical Tolstoyan dynamic. He was always very sensitive to the interconnectedness of human events, both through time (what we feel today depends a lot on what we experienced yesterday) and in relationship with others (how we act today doesn’t just depend on us, but on others around us).

53 LECTURE EIGHT 5 4 cr t ke l D o I C h r u sq e a T Wa “ t n w co o b o ki b Bo o ce h t d o a t p m M r t g n if ea nd he he ha ri e sco e Th Wa In M cup o se n n e f u y e f a e f p o e a ol e u r e n i e a o p sp ti e u m n is w e d s s. cause n sire p sit n r as Tolst grea l o ri l shi t chi e stoy s l sco r r t ea rat kons r Wa cize e an ping d ad, tra he my df ea try. e s. st ng rpi e r act is e ect al wh a s an th to Th i l to d, be u a t p nd ma ive. n at ng y d up l l r Th e of a w, e o t r e l a nd , t t d s a , its l oy’s t o or und T ro dly as h e T his in show, a n” kys, o of str i nd i nd t and com men m wit t cate ng n T , her y e olsty pr the im o as th sk Pe olsty fo h ugh e 1 ha stiuon t q One olsty as Pea o ode f uct he gen lu sem un er cast odu 870 es set cu erm uest h of per cupa L an al m ace eaf an pu whet t pe rking mo the Pe , signfca he gor ate a th lib out spirt, s or p t whet d l ce, try he d m rpo iod, ced s re of lo e ine woma ter of f o ace, wa i era t n e of is u o amiles o th ie ned im se en. B give is used n t Li her to te War p ns . nly life h tions fam clas up al n , desp s se. h e e n ( ch s At e his l, p her is in usa fe achin ovel To lo he ist b zukh ev be a blur ce ms re re bea awr like Tolst in a bu was ar nd vely it th and n majo the iles. his or an Th lst nd a vailng lig ar the so t rta re acter was cau ite in Napole r f fa t nd y in . ch to rom inc th ly t oy y he ovs—a e y g n ion “ it a g cial in life ce time e Why large te tha t n childre p ounced e l m al han arcte r op pre vario end d of se Peac, tha r The ot y lude de rovide stared tha rest, d s : an tha coner idn’t familes oment s win a p stru eath g th Ch the scribed views childb -made t se t it take on roup, ag o point r, man live?” t obst e ha s co us siton—uch re fact ter, his a rist. h ce n. rs overa cture, bothe ain, Rusia, su result apy: ms or pily; and uld la its ma it lin , s fa Tolsty le to y Bu in acle feri obseiv ir de rge agin tha abou s promise of into to Tsar are miles—th ked Du brate th, plo tha of meani eithr o ny g as com War th t, eply politca r verwhlmin ive view tel t if ching ng ring To t of rough num The t h a tha t hose th o evn aco a o toge not t im of s her st ma Alexand f . plain lst the es histo h the t and for peri h th Virgna hat disturbn Nap . is as re Nap histo this is t s, ber the oy’s ke g hat mean He e chron ces peol unt out as who her life mo action story cone livng od is and sta or family a p t Peac ry olen about he h olen. of arts p cate Rostv, was takes ry. soldier alwys war apy re as wor the War eriod h meani rt of a by g, ing: unmar is have wa e, icle nd social r, Wolf to g But of clo s, cris a a rn of b gories ks. mutal or char myriad and unab co h has e r his ut belo life an b about prison his endi th death er sely his Napo xistena of with br Tolsty h lur. nstelaio a in apr survied what is mo As e d g. nyoe ried ings, land mar coneti acters histo peac tha once ben the fa in ashe most ficton, ge ng Pea life In tha kni He st the it s thers gs leon er friends, Tolsty’ the oach t nius, in you dra , to o K genr she iage belong wa tha ry) t e—and is t ce to f h recogniz faces wo rathe d l urag no sent gentry togehr els. other are er the tiny, to question ro ws often about s lose ng acount. t h es for an revals is ted, uld cals le and ave used lok cultre, more and al, are ins, us Ru to d r to s. peol distan p the of stare inf the s. To to blunty preca ways ackin forea life. hap sho mig th sho Tolst And, the a sian ma a plo his fam aly so at In the lstoy . a to ought in clo d s fir ite p p ws r h w life th t wil ca th a ing her g. , ily s. r i t h si ie se, in - - i r is - is y e t n - d I witnessed members of the Church, her teachers, monks, and ascetics condoning the killing of helpless, lost youths. As I turned my attention to all that is done by people who profess Christianity, I was horrified. (Confession, 1988, p. 76)

In 1882, Tolstoy participated in a Moscow census-taking mission, during which he witnessed urban poverty. Over the next few years he wrote a long treatise called What Then Should We Do? , where he outlined a program whereby the gap between rich and poor would be eliminated if members of his class would stop exploiting the poor and start doing real labor themselves. Women, argued Tolstoy, should embrace their roles as mothers. Sexuality so disturbed Tolstoy that he sought the means to domesticate and contain it. One way of doing this was to have women tied to the cycles of pregnancy, childbirth, and breastfeeding, because this put them out of sexual circulation or halted sexual activity at least temporarily. Tolstoy argued that sexual relations during pregnancy and lactation should be avoided. By the early 1890s, Tolstoy’s views on sex and family life took what may seem to be a radical development: He went from appealing to wives to embrace mother - hood (and bear many children, this being the only way of redeeming sex) to advocating abstinence, even in marriage. In the later years, Tolstoy wrote out on a number of issues: nonviolent resistance, Christ’s teachings, vegetarianism, chastity, and abstention from tobacco and alcohol. He was critical of the state, whose policies and power were founded on violence. He was also outspoken about certain practices and dogmas of the Russian Orthodox Church, and was eventually excom - municated. But many of his followers were inspired by his interpretation and formulation of the teaching of Jesus and by Tolstoy’s efforts to practice what Jesus preached. In the last decade or so of his life, his family life became ever more con - tentious. Many of his policies seemed to undermine the family life that Tolstoy and his wife had worked so hard to establish; his wife felt betrayed and humiliated. Finally, Tolstoy did what he had been talking about doing: he packed a few things and set off from home, in search of his sister who was living in a convent at the time. He fell ill with pneumonia along the way and lay sick for a week in a train station. Members of his family came to be with him, but his entourage did not let his wife in to his bedside until after he lost consciousness. His illness and death attracted enormous attention from the media and public. Tolstoy’s body was returned to Yasnaya Polyana for burial.

55 FOR GREATER UNDERSTANDING

Questions

1. How did Tolstoy respond to having been an orphan? 2. What are some of the contradictions in Tolstoy’s life and how did he react to them? 3. What caused Tolstoy to question his marriage and family life?

Suggested Reading

Tolstoy, Leo. A Confession and Other Religious Writings. Trans. Jane Kentish. New York: Penguin, 1987. Wilson, A.N. Tolstoy: A Biography. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2001.

Other Books of Interest

Gustafson, Richard. Leo Tolstoy: Resident and Stranger: A Study in Fiction and Theology. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1989. Orwin, Donna T., ed. The Cambridge Companion to Tolstoy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002. T H G I E E R U T C E L

56 Lecture 9: Entering the Labyrinth of Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina

The Suggested Reading for this lecture is Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina (parts 1 and 2).

Opening Up Anna Consider this . . . Karenina Before we begin, we The novel Anna Karenina contains so much more need to deal with three than the story of Anna Karenina. Tolstoy is thus preliminaries: the title, forcing the reader to see her life in a broader epigraph, and opening context. How does it change our understanding? sentence. The title promises a story about one person by the name of “Anna Karenina.” In fact, we learn little about her past. She shares the stage with a number of other characters: Stiva Oblonsky (Anna’s brother); the three Shcherbatsky sis - ters—Dolly (Stiva’s wife), Nathalie, and notably Kitty; Karenin (Anna’s hus - band); Vronsky (Anna’s eventual lover); and above all Levin, who is so important he almost seems to be the hero of the novel. What is Tolstoy up to? He may in fact be playing on our expectations that the novel will be about one person, Anna, and trying to wean us from the focus on one indi - vidual. Tolstoy wants us to understand that what matters is relatedness, that one has to take the whole social, familial fabric into account, rather than sim - ply consider one’s actions as determining the course of one’s own individual pursuit of happiness. This ruse with the title is part of what Tolstoy (in a letter) called the novel’s “hidden architectonics.” In another letter, Tolstoy declared that if you try to extract one thought from the novel, it loses its meaning and is “terribly degrad - ed by being taken out by itself from that linking in which it is found.” Everything is interrelated in this novel; the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. He goes on to describe Anna Karenina as an “endless labyrinth of linkages,” and this “labyrinth of linkages” is for him “the essence of art.” After the title comes the novel’s epigraph: “Vengeance is mine; I will repay.” Read in one way, with emphasis on “vengeance,” the epigraph promises moral order: Sin will be repaid by vengeance. Read another way, with empha - sis on the pronouns “mine” and “I,” it emphasizes the role of an agent. This puzzling epigraph has a biblical ring, and in fact it traces to a letter of Paul, who, paraphrasing Deuteronomy 32:35, was advising the Romans not to take justice into their own hands. In either reading, the epigraph seems to promise an orderly universe in which sin is repaid by an agent, presumably God. At the same time, the sin of adultery inevitably recalls another biblical pas - sage (John 8:1–11), where Jesus tells the scribes and Pharisees who want

57 LECTURE NINE 5 8 l l c a n n e T a l t h f sa s l r o g a i e b e d o n m w a u t u f r d f e o w p f h e s n w o b t i h v o v o y i t ro he ir in am e h e h o I D A Wi It e k d e l l a x e i ) y o l se s o r b y e ve e he n h a , n lo m st a t u l o s a n g d l l o m vious: a in ol e r u t e g a g t s e d n e c s t s n i a t m y a m is el s e , e d n a o f n d! es. s t w th o n e: ing nt, ami r t ou d vy pro t h g i r y l l a e r s r i f e h t k i l gs l a fo f t y est m Tolst in y, h n o c d n a o f o in ) e c a no her t v o l ct th for o e t an Sexu r s e a t o h n o i thr o m g t d u j e b b c f o he by e h ly o s p o i s e h t Doly’ t nd m c ver es i a h c o D B first onfu s n i le a e hou s e i c s ut. o d her a b a St bed d o t oug ce e u o ut, is r re k a e v o l ? d n e r e g e l c oy m t s ’ t i a l a contr to o m o t “ o f e p e s wom . y l l g b iva e n al s s u R al f a r spon An Sh h W ntr o r f re h t a u x e a r un ”. r e ld o t eing sent n i h t r e c n is sion an se a ro ask: wo r a e n s hou n a e c n n n a t c h t fe . si e g s a D g h hap t A alit clear m e a re y e k has om feling sex, . . xu ? h T r e ast, ung r e , r o b h g i a elin e an a’s To d n Ty s r o t s e c e l . s y a M e v o L locks a y d pr sib enc n fra n a i l t . n i w r a t s l o T e e n o a y, in s al e l b u o d “Did e r e t l u d p u e r e g. , e r u t c ” v o l py th . lstoy elim nd polgy a shou y e k n o m be e h t gs s e o d ry. in ad e s iltes; J f o con an fo the nd fe whic e b o n e b s u s e e in s r fro m e to o p eling ulte o j s i y o no h t of sh d h When you ina n h t i w g i b To be e v o l quer , of erslf o . s e k it Ob t ld o t s l o T e y t i l i jealou , t n i m ge t i o n els ou vel, s s y h w t ha G s n t s a w he rous e r o m ries gins lst the hu r d e b s e o d s a w be read d o s—not own o lonsky q se t e h t con t a d n a t u o , ldn’t vi , ) t a h t s oy, o i t s e u s f o e w f in u j t milaton it, e n O novel: the n Doly n e h nd the o t s L he childre y h w in t i f e s b o out y t s g sy to demni af the m o o o G r c s v a h ove t u s i way.” s n he o r a e l n s i get d r r a her h w ? n i for p a u x e s quest a p m y g—tha f f t o is end- t s e g g n e h se o g unctio. , d of s e b i so house n h s th ir. t o n way t a g n i finaly a h t chaos d e s s n a c — ” v e o s o “Hap a a n e g d u j some in xual s ’ d n A n a c s e e ro n the d n a fair g n i w o much k i r u i R and r n i Ther al t g m io p eaction th c i t e h t h t t i n l n a d e of e k i l e k a m m la t o o l e n atern a e o c e b e w py h t i w e b an self G a h w o s with e ach r e y old.” d stem , e v her ay, o jealou o r h t h t fre a wa k n o m t a h t eaft o t Th merg t i od da pasion f h P nd d fa h t : s i h t t ( e s e f o o f . e b o t jud sh s m a l b is y t e h e m al d n i f miles b e t u b other we nger I mate wi t n a m o w . h t r y a w a w e s i r a n e to n The a he forge e-al h t e u R of S r i r se gmen r a t u o b m ? y e l sy. r e v t from n e h W n i d n a c S ole m e s i s e r t we sexua he s d e d i o v g n i r e t com a v i t o dom n i p i family’s s s e T lk? ous to —Tolsty rnal unish ms cau s e e n o y r e h y o t s l o of F as ts a y l b i r f i s m r e t n a i short f n I learn s i e h t or e n n a h t or re ” t set e l b i t e Doly’s e n i l e h estic b e he a Th g an se to jealou t u o h t i w s ’ a v i t S l e w duties, t u s d n i k xistenc. upon o b h g i e r wo ? Tolst a ames s c i s s a l c com g i r r a r t n a i v a e d i s l or s e o g things d e be s I of term, s l l e t fo a h t o t s i tha child n o c “ m r a h c men. f o alike; t ( ven qu t h life ? c i g tha rme e h t the petio p x e Tolsty’ . y l l o D e r e h sy—to respon inted. w , r t th t f o estion x i m h t i w y, (in , o w a v i t S “ whic geanc d e t c i v t a h e h o ren n i s t a e d e d n e t x e Eve a i s s u R and she in : e v o l t u He r o t s e c n g n i r o l cha human s I the voling r a e third, F , d l r r f o very f o y n a orde, n. d l u o h s rench o T e d n a yk s n o l b O o t an m a f ? y h W rything has os m over em o l b O ro n o l b O re tu o b a ,s e v o l She f i are yo t s l d o G “ y b m a f o m n min h t y a w y l i the han to unh sem n a m In ther sa h t lite es a o n - o e rges t o h n go h f yl i o l an f s’ t I is n a a c m a d f er ;y k s r ri e yk s - g a b - ail h t ev ot s v s p y si li ts d s - e i - - - - In part 1, the major characters are in Moscow, for one reason or another. Levin has come thinking he will propose to Kitty. His mission is motivated by sexual or marital love. But, while in Moscow, he is challenged to show brotherly love to his profligate dying brother. At the same time, Anna comes to Moscow, not on a sexual mission, but on a mission of sisterly love, summoned by her philandering brother to fix the crisis in the Oblonsky household. This is the first time she has been separated from her eight-year-old son, whom she loves intensely. Indeed, Dolly, ever wise about human relations, thinks there is something unnatural in Anna’s playing the role of devoted mother. Arguably, Anna lavishes so much love on her son because she lacks passion for her husband. Anna thus arrives on the scene seeming to be maternal and sisterly: she is the beloved aunt, whose lap all the nieces and nephews want to sit on. What happens to Anna in Moscow? We see her for the first time at the train station where she is met by her brother. Vronsky is there to meet his mother, who has been riding in the train compartment with Anna listening to her talk about her son. At the station, Anna meets Vronsky. It seems to be a case of love at first sight. Their meeting is laced with death. A railroad worker has been killed on the track, in a probable suicide. He leaves behind a widow and family. Here we have a case where Tolstoy asks what the suffering of others has to do with us. How are we to respond? This is a variation on the question that Dostoevsky raised in Crime and Punishment, where Sonya lived in devotion to an unworthy father and even Raskolnikov engaged in acts of compassion: Recall the time when Raskolnikov comes across Marmeladov right after he has been hit by a carriage, carries him home, and leaves money for his widow and children, who are all but strangers to him. How do Tolstoy’s heroes respond to the tragedy they behold? The Oblonsky siblings, Stiva and Anna, are moved to tears. Stiva and Vronsky view the gruesome remains. Anna asks, referring to the widow left behind: “Couldn’t one do anything for her?” Vronsky leaves money with the stationmaster for the widow and family. Vronsky seems to be following the age-old ethical imperative to be charitable to the widow, the orphan, and the poor. Why? We the readers sense that this act of charity was not done for the love of one’s neighbor, but for the love of Anna—an erotic passion that has hit him, much as the train hit the man: suddenly and irrevocably. Thus, his act of apparent compassion is in actuality motivated by sexual love. And Anna knows. Anna orchestrates a reconciliation between her brother and sister-in-law. But there is a sudden change in Anna. Anna goes into the hall looking for an album with a picture of her son—she “longed to look at a photograph of him”—when the doorbell rings and Vronsky enters. We sense that her mater - nal love is about to be supplanted by sexual feelings for Vronsky. As if to prove the point, Tolstoy shows us the ball (where she dances the mazurka with Vronsky) and afterwards the domestic scene, where her nieces and nephews no longer clamor to sit on her lap. The revolution in Anna’s heart becomes all the more irrevocable when she returns home, with Vronsky stalking her on the train. She gives way, surren - ders her will, to the passion, even though it will take another year before she yields to his sexual advances and consummates the love. But even as she

59 LECTURE NINE 6 0 vo h i i V o ( e h t P t i w fr fe f s l h c O p n w Wh w s b th a Pe C h a r o h i Wh f h w e o h ns i nv s t erns ocu e h m o r e N V M In A nkages, al, ec c ri z am nd i i o e p a m om k s n o r a v a e or d a ows a s s bl o m l a el s er vu r he s cati ll k s n o r il r p ve ow e s r r o r r t e ight it nt s e c i k en y ri uc th o f e r p onsky’ re tre famil e oi eb y r e v ed now of anwh linea over se, ed lsi rg V tsk clea nd a me on le m d v e L e ex , m ad n of so kl in g o e h t r s k at y , es a f o th i on ss Vr on an lest ted t s s i ar r to s ’ y n e il g i “L y moments c s ’ y as me re ve a ; l l y. k . his ri nd do es , alter ab ou t ” r, ad s on r lu d n i h in sk y, h t r u e f has d i f in as ka make ly ag Or ia g a f ma le whi rom co w a t e soc is de d e r in r V rational hat life th e u s l e ti ma nt t a ulte sky H a y r an r of th i t n , pr th e e , e s t a l n e a wo v n o Vr n i o king ed S ) e v i a h t ch in o i t a l to s a b li ofliga bo th o iati d bo s. ) oth pa e ,” rs rs se eryo th at th ng she ba b Pa va , s a en r L fr o s n o i f t a st on cy ar h n h t y k s c ous w h y put ev in , wh ic h h Pa gives u es e on rt onnections en lo Le vi n er s i om a wher e er f o m he s n t sky e h a e h a h g u o h t .d e c n a m ives wi tr e. thought 1, su it or s zha, he n th te va y l l e b tr . a v a P s e k a m (of gr me ain i f t i w it hea k th e s i h r tha ev nt o th am to ysting h t i w eir s n r a e l He o w wh o To ls t “H e h n b ea t blunty, re like e a Ann is, o me an s h h usban s eh si hi s re tu t ct ua ll y a wh ou rt. n o i t a l e r tu her m r d l u ou wh at om b mi id se em s s s i h g n i y r t n s felt e avio de al e h s i h rns ot he r- ch il d he wa s on h t of oy d n O a s im ylic o ol d r hat?” processes, havior l rn s a as e, arity, with e k i l son. mi t a h t T Kareni and g s ’ r p wo ul d Ki tt y’ s. ila now m u l c “ d—to es ta bl is the much e c a r rets olstyan To l to can r h t he ca re ss . pe a ju st nds e z i pi ct ur ed a so c i k back to rly, a o t s bo ut e to o t his h nd draw Not n n A st oy of A carp cathes t i w g n i k hi s is and fa r e s r o h r u y a d f sa a r gi ve n be na els connect e v i l y s t c a gi ve her ce be elin contiguity, pa disrega marie ap e g Ea ch woman h in nt a h only wh o fr o fa mi ly dy ad , r o h e pr ou dly et rtain its ac ti ng m sio conclusions, es We , a n n A but a f o a n n A art expct det s i h t i w Levin’ na nn hu r e h to g a m m e v o hi m a lack F artistic bi rt h. e h t n i me a nd o kind th ey does sband, r them h re tu ail, rather e s n th e co nc ei vi ng d o f volatiy im se lf ki n disparate rd u al l f es ta te , t t i K - u y h f ev a m t c a nt ou n i . p the or s s u j t s of o r F ed, n is t n e re fe rre d on rn s an d r F for d of ist fa mi ly ” th e Le vi n, of ar e l p e e cowshe in t e h t . y e h S se e she him, d let und structure. t r o o e r p hi s on res, Barone ” F - u opposition). e. Kare omestic physica perh a f b pres he u Pet ho me s A fi mo re t a h t a s d e in r b based of (E xt er na ls c n a n g erstan st leaps has Le vi n i exp r fa nt as ie s s a h u o r . y l l e p be lo ve d n i v e L e s a h c g her u o m er o r V phenomena th ou gh he ty ch (p ar t ni’s of Po kr ov sk oe , aps—bu to th e the a ore d, r b sburg, rving t ’ n d l art so to s’ ben e e s lo ve newfa as o t feling t y k s n s k a e rienc l we n A ord of As fu ss in g not fa mi ly , ding h t i w rep Ba co nt ra st in g than hi s , s i 1, e wh en e b is th e m o r V d e b fancy, ars: dr te the er, must ro do g, readers, g n i t c a fo r ulsion, ch ap te r d always o introduce wher e d n i k ba ch el or in t e h .d e l l i k ngled r e e nd er es. s i h n ifernt. f of s k c i “l ab yri nth s m y k s n a she th whic es fa mi ly wo ma n patr th e “Oh, r an d for th e e r o Kity and ov er milk is y l i a , d e , k c a b ask . d l i h c flashes to Ther an d t u o u o r F fe ma le , erotic fe Shilton. To ls to ya n Vron imony whic co a c o v e his mo th er d n a on f f i d li ve on ly 27 ). we my see Le vi n s i h t cow reca whetr hi s and li fe . Wh fe d ls li fe , ht i w lo vi logi ap ar t tn e r e friend h T tu b r F - of in sky are i h dis Go n is pat of si ile si to ev i t As ls fo he e o ng , u o p - - a f d o r - it r ! , t Tolstoy? (And his choice of barnyard animal to raise is surely telling.) If Vronsky shows total disregard for the maternal function or mystery of feminin - ity, is that all Tolstoy’s hero Levin sees? The symbolism of cows and horses is woven throughout the rest of the novel as well (see part 6, especially). Later, when Anna gives birth to Vronsky’s child, this babe, too, goes without her milk. Cows also figure into the Oblonsky family’s domestic economy. Recall that the Oblonsky children were not fed their milk in the opening scene. In part 3, when Dolly takes her chil - dren to their family estate for the summer, which Stiva has supposedly gotten ready, she finds that things are in disarray. Among a handful of problems, none of the nine milk cows is giving milk. Once again the poor Oblonsky chil - dren are going without their milk. Dolly deflects Levin’s offer of help and scorns his expertise. For her, it’s simple: If you want Spotty and Whiteflake to produce more milk, then you simply convince the cook not to give the family’s kitchen scraps to the laundress’s cow, but keep them in the family where they belong. The logic is sound and sensible. And it’s an allegory for how she wishes her husband would behave: Instead of scattering what belongs in the family elsewhere, he should keep it all in the family. Again we see Tolstoy’s “labyrinth of linkages”: Dolly’s commonsense attitude toward farming reflects her wisdom in regard to family. Tolstoy mines all aspects of life with meaning. And what he creates is not just a symbolic system. For him, as we will see, great stock is placed in mak - ing the right choices in the mundane details of life. What you do in the cow - shed or in the stables matters. Having, for example, the right attitude toward horses transfers into having the right attitude toward women, or toward one’s neighbor. And that’s not meant to be demeaning: Tolstoy did believe that all these things link mysteriously and gloriously, in part because of the presence of God. (See Gustafson and Morson for discussion of how Tolstoy imbues the mundane details of real life with higher meaning.) If, however, the pres - ence of God comes into doubt, then all his labyrinth of linkages can become a haunted place. Translations Passages from Anna Karenina are cited from the Constance Garnett transla - tion, as revised by Leonard J. Kent and Nina Berberova (New York: Modern Library, 2000). Garnett’s translation also may be found in a version edited by Amy Mandelker (Barnes and Noble, 2003). Also recommended is the transla - tion by Pevear and Volokhonsky, which is widely available.

61 FOR GREATER UNDERSTANDING

Questions

1. What does the epigraph mean and what questions does it raise about the action of the novel? 2. How is Stiva Oblonsky’s affair different from his sister’s? 3. In what ways does Tolstoy contrast Vronsky and Levin? What do the differ - ences reveal?

Suggested Reading

Tolstoy, Leo. Anna Karenina. Trans. Constance Garnett, revised by Leonard J. Kent and Nina Berberova. New York: Modern Library, 2000.

Other Books of Interest

Alexandrov, Vladimir. Limits to Interpretation: The Meanings of Anna Karenina. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2004. Gustafson, Richard. Leo Tolstoy: Resident and Stranger: A Study in Fiction and Theology. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1989. Morson, Gary Saul. “The Daily Miracle: Teaching the Ideas of Anna Karenina. ” Approaches to Teaching Anna Karenina. Pp. 60–66. Eds. Liza Knapp and Amy Mandelker. New York: MLA, 2003. Steiner, George. Tolstoy or Dostoevsky: An Essay in the Old Criticism. 2nd ed. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1996. Tanner, Tony. Adultery in the Novel: Contract and Transgression. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1981. Turner, C.J.G. A Karenina Companion. Waterloo, Ontario: Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 1993. E N I N E R U T C E L

62 Lecture 10: Anna Karenina and the Tangled Skein of Plot

The Suggested Reading for this lecture is Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina (parts 2 through 4).

Parallel and Consider this . . . Intersecting Plots In Anna Karenina, Many critics have complained that Anna Karenina Tolstoy works with two lacks unity and that the plots remain separate. Yet distinct plot lines: on Tolstoy believed that the novel was held together by the one hand, Kitty an elaborate “labyrinth of linkages.” As you read, try and Levin; on the to discern the hidden structure that binds the novel other, the Karenins together in an artistic whole. and Vronsky. Arguably there is a third, more minor, plot as well: the Oblonskys. Up to a point, the development of plots in Anna Karenina is consistent with the theory of plot laid out long ago by Aristotle (in his Poetics ), who saw plots as first tangling and then untangling (like yarn). That certainly happens individually with the two main plots of Anna Karenina. But Tolstoy does more. Even as he’s knot - ting and unknotting one plotline, each one a separate strand, he is braiding them together. Anna Karenina is driven by the development of each plot, but its real meaning lies in the way the two (or three) plots are made to play off against each other and get tangled up with each other. Kitty Desexed After being jilted by Vronsky, Kitty falls ill. Although no overt sex occurred between her and Vronsky, perhaps not even a kiss, Tolstoy wants to suggest that her whole organism has been violated by courtship—or seduction—and then rejection. To add to the insult, she has to endure more violation at the hands of the doctors who examine her. She certainly has no further appetite for romance and sex as she recovers. Once the belle of the ball, she no longer enjoys being seen in a ball gown. She can’t stand the notion of being evaluated by suitors: “It seems to me they’re taking stock of me and summing me up.” Tolstoy has to rid her of all sexual feeling in order to make her recep - tive to other modes of love. We then see Kitty in the German spa of Soden, where Kitty becomes friends with one Varenka, who acts as a kind of unofficial sister of mercy to the poor and sick Russians of Soden. Under the spell of Varenka, Kitty reads the gospels and ministers to the sick. Kitty sets about imitating Varenka, to the horror of her mother, who senses that Kitty is overdoing it. But Kitty thinks, “one could not talk about overdoing

63 LECTURE TEN 6 4 co a h h a r o q d sm vi f h w o a vo i l w L p r n L o a h o w g n H w co si su a h e f i ng if e t or ou e i L In In An Fo ea n e e ft n u r ag e ve l e o ve n a f e o n e xtr ev an t g if o e h ckro most w n e e u i n i d r r e to it r vin vel d d ts vel d r hi k e oru ce rl re om tors a n e ou w e—t vin p her a ou r r e r r juga la d sa r e em in wa body dly rt s tsh d i hi mar tro mor ar wor n co th a th th unt a nd n you h se To so p n of ts w i g nt ma to s t re a n ot h ts Ki y e i ur e lo e th ci year u ni ms. t a mplicate e s i s, he re atch id nd p l wo nsua disluon rse l king il riage e ble lig p t ov er nd stur wo to ng Ch Kit stoy ty t, it, a in g ca wor n ng 2 bed he br jor e on la in g eas late you p nd ht in io conf ks the she an d ie Doly’s lf th art Pe rt. of tions To ma n, year ristan ha b his y’s es en he pea n es Rusia r kplace o it, h l, , f up, als en, ( atio ” co mo re r ng, se to of ma rr pa f is am as lst an pe s an staple viso 4, conju nt A lict whe th and swung mu was ate 3, pr a nve d s), em sant pe as an t be “ nd la oy, rt t d riod d and nales go o wit e would so L oun wisdo fre op it by me nt Le an ter f b evin sin 3 ia g esta en nu y so co n s . nig to to mp n in then gir etw at h , erty. shly in h gal de (Re vi n’ s wa tion L sex. to nt t co he ch ci rse g tr of idea in uple g owevr ar life e a d wh n ls i o to t the ad fe v a te o f ocent m) ur n wil o ching uple, s an ap sug nce with ra or to p be a lov so , meb men l go —is . ry. w en ative,” n ich awke fa mi ly h wi th art s It iton sing “ co co (n s pid, Th d In it ter awking ta te d t find loa f ’s no if this e, to ry es hat man ork repla h figh gest ear Th a ncer nvetio with fa mi ly . Parme they court is 2, the his , t th Le m and as pure d 1), her life th to so suple tha ge h e er “inter is is pro e t in Kit en” pa ra ned h of co op e y e Levin’s) aving vin wa s ced with tha t par a expr Moscw. ts ay a sa rige a cen Oblonsky t “p of have he ship ed.” tr ad it io na l ful ty n wom maryi gods. “F je bae e b nych co comes jea He me wi rope th p in ll el s love.” xpose compasi est r ct, end al irst, by he the tral le his uts con bosm an a tne mon move to ra ti ve women m A lo sion r en rms, de ve lo ps , childr h ituals. tha l . fe in ost by us iro a himse te e K ng for of replis: the se she pride ” expr to Le her flict. mine An it ty wo n car l Her nsio se to nicaly, i Ki tt y’ s o her s. ment, fe, vin Crime ovels. and a get Tolst and Kity’s the ge nt ry f na en eros syndr es ’s . un back rking gathe esion nau t of He In peasnt Kity’s He out a lf a (hu a s nate r back der cidentaly, K He ealizs (they ugly is Kity nd tha ne b . flung di arise a a “Childre ght. sid frien ev en a oth wil lean . of re je ct io n. rt y ome an gni a is on ne w toge renia w b a red .” ma t ask a the would by rave ltruisc e love n aristoc of F atenio tt em pt s unde und sex. d model ridn T faces t f ew dship, It have track y rench ed o ind the rr ia ge olsty wo Pun dr ea ms it ther Kity’s co f becau white for ec on om ic is he in er the o tog n carie new kind the g man, mpasionte is T h rbely rem f bu life Kity’s ago in Tolsty. ishment lo is he be th Par . in was He withou life ats. ethr, o no n the govern ho de ndle pl ot . ves . to w descr e —ap f smock, own s en ear ark her . plot, of t wife nize , w h e d o hole menych me of red evn fi nd to in ealthy to o, of gosp to d! qu K to her another Kity. maried lier ward dilema of ma rr yi ng sy st em , ca Soden. ity’s fo ble stu the ibes : b was Why, in of belt ite over its rt In sex me an in g weigh e hay Co rm se em s riage, s.) h of rejctio els, with from ck whic a usba tha fact, sen logica vibra mar love. Fro altr urtship love new (a she of the pain th takin mo the hig fo m a at t Bu a m tu rn - th th n r n on of a ajo nt, , o re h to - ter d h d. l n is e t g n in e ) e - r Before he does, Levin’s dying brother Nicholas visits. As the two brothers talk politics, Tolstoy’s narrator tells us what they would say if they said what was really on their minds. Levin would say, “You’re dying,” and his brother would reply, “Yes, I know and I’m afraid.” Tolstoy uses the scene to remind Levin (and us) of his mortality. He abandons all his farm reform as vanity and goes off to Europe, talking about death, yet at some level still longing for con - tinuity, for heirs, for a woman who can provide them. For Tomorrow We Die The dinner party in part 4 is the hinge that joins the novel together: It joins the first half and the second half, and it joins the Anna plot and the Levin plot. This dinner party, at the Oblonskys’ in Moscow, is occasioned by the arrival of Alexei Karenin, Anna’s famous husband. Oblonsky goes to Levin’s hotel to invite him to the party, too. Levin, who has just killed a bear on his estate, is being measured for a bearskin coat. In the hotel, Stiva and Levin have a con - versation about the meaning of life. When Oblonsky asks Levin how he is, Levin replies: “It’s true that it’s high time I was dead; and that all this is nonsense . . . all this world of ours is nothing but a speck of mildew, which has grown up on a tiny planet. And for us to suppose we can have some - thing great—ideas, work—it’s all grains of sand.” (part 4, chapter 7) Levin sounds like Bazarov contemplating his insignificance under the hay- stack (chapter 21) in Fathers and Sons or, for that matter, the “all is vanity” of Ecclesiastes. What does Oblonsky say? “Come to dinner!”—a faint echo of the famous adage, “Let us eat and drink, because tomorrow we will die,” which Paul discusses as a possible response to death if there is no Resurrection (1 Corinthians 15:32). Oblonsky’s reply suggests that Oblonsky has looked his mortality in the face and has been scared out of his wits. His “Come to dinner!” is an alternative to Levin’s “All I know is that we shall soon be dead.” The dinner party is perfectly orchestrated by the Oblonskys. In the midst of a general discussion of topics of the day, including childbearing, Kitty and Levin begin talking. Kitty says, “you’ve killed a bear, I hear . . .,” while trying to stick a fork into a mushroom with her dainty hand in a lacy sleeve. The bear evokes Artemis, goddess of childbirth, and Russian folk associations of the bear and mating: The act of wooing is underway! Kitty’s attempt to daintily fork the mushroom is reminiscent of the peasant bride forking the hay, with her bosom “arching.” This is a mating scene, but eros is sublimated, transformed. Kitty and Levin communicate by writing the first letters of words in chalk on the table cloth; they develop a private intercourse that transcends the lies of ordi - nary social discourse. They get engaged in the process. Levin has conquered the courtship plot and the evil of sex. But can he conquer fear of death? Anna’s Womb In Petersburg, Anna, after having given birth to her lovechild with Vronsky, is dying from an infection of her womb. Anna and Vronsky’s relations have

65 LECTURE TEN 6 6 “ a t h Se h a a Em Vr n a d a b t f d o n e w f p a a p n i l T sa p u s v o hr ha ro . g n i l e e th An A H n e e t g o n u f r e ve i t s l o il gh ie o a ck a n n d e r r r a d e te er e c c a o r p n o i s s e w e l o m r e t n ont . pi yo nsky soc r n f mp in. ls, di ugh mor t ly . rio tw th at ge e co An d n a ma a , y o re th a l e f o But , zha g n i l e ur nd at o n An has t ra s ar ts e t a . n i out o taliy, ot n re m u s l o T ia a e h h “ al s B n a a par o y at ted se t coa An s in nd r e na rad his the ute childb ut ted , with o sepa a r i p we s fut d u be o m ab emp this f nd the ale fo na’s . o t as d t r h o c itona y o o f a h u t i se ure hen T se h t rin b wit out a e rce” as y n ping heir do Kit n g r V ut rat n o i s s a p m e l a he xual e v s no w ts ir g e f .h t fo ro h . plot r d given , s s e n e v i th. r a h u a ed by Cou ecov stil . e v o l distur t l eath y x e l A to vel, l rce an th nsky—with y o t r e come nlike com a b tog t in s, e of p a h du re sign ear f d g n i r b a b s u h ”—s rom ride h ld wor th Soden be i e ea move eth h for a t ave lt o F bing red Le ow e s er t they h cha ing d, r e h r V ( ch u . given e d l u o c ld unt a t h r com y nicato vin o Vro xual r i e h t r is a when m o w d n can and e s y k s n o plo po e o word nce in up sa , himse mystical raise f mo and the th and nsky e r a s s e l f l parison sin i e x e l A e the y t, felings, a h to one e vil s. s Vron n e ther—g to far whe ir s. l a u x e g her situa ) o w t a n e p p go Kit , be lf the is spirt. b purif ewl r t o t Withn Kare i e x e l A he peas ealizs e v o l io live fro sky’ re fla ty, drom sexua of K logica langu e e f an f childr s m r o r a m same ion r d we y lover n o o it ni and in to d f to e l e v i hersl r o t o Ana doe nt he d. a n i n y l her pa int r a K i some the f l s age . Ana tha en fears p s s i h be o “beat n i love Wha Increa o t daugh si to ertwing u and quest picture, s f o t n i n e dr nstabl a u t i r i far in toge t o l f g u a n no Ita o e h and of n “ the eam, r e h g th , n e v or t in society’ husb er” o b h g i e t ly. se reach lovers, rough ha wa io co e t t u si ter ta p s l anoth t new her? t a h t Vron e. , t h x ns: he d n o l ke pen mun thru first s n a t n o . d e b h t a e gly, Ana rea in and , e v of r It’s nea . r h t fa es How a a c ” . r love We to sky the sting Shar two er e c n e s b rs ce whic in lie s g n i d r o c c a h g u o a w, of ridcule sho o n n r y l s u o e icates o F is su form its a s radicl extinco of contempla se h can the set tha b e fa a r told ad bsequntly something uld t ut ug d nd n I o T Ana? iled : x i m in s s e n l l i eath? —retun t in Rusia the with f o ly on arose itself e h t of be , y o t s l th their decit f fo s l e e Part diverson head u x e s e suicd at r peol ot u x e s sa fig se r p the , tame sh a h t tion to ha case me htin n o c h t 4 s a take e in , la s is e l si - t m a g of a s - FOR GREATER UNDERSTANDING

Questions

1. Kitty and Levin go their separate ways in parts 2 and 3 of the novel. In what ways are their separate experiences parallel? 2. How do the different characters, such as Levin and Oblonsky, respond to their awareness of mortality? 3. Why does Karenin feel compassion and forgiveness at the end of part 4?

Suggested Reading

Tolstoy, Leo. Anna Karenina. Trans. Constance Garnett. Rev. by Leonard J. Kent and Nina Berberova. New York: Modern Library, 2000.

Other Books of Interest

Mandelker, Amy. Framing Anna Karenina: Tolstoy, the Woman Question, and the Victorian Novel. Columbus, OH: Ohio State University Press, 1994. Steiner, George. Tolstoy or Dostoevsky: An Essay in the Old Criticism. 2nd ed. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1996. Tanner, Tony. Adultery in the Novel: Contract and Transgression. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1981.

67 Lecture 11: Love and Death in Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina

The Suggested Reading for this lecture is Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina (parts 5 through 8).

One Wedding Consider this . . . In part 5, the two major couples of the Anna and Levin, who emerge as the major charac - novel are finally unit - ters of the novel, have little to do with each other on ed, Kitty and Levin by the surface of the plot. Anna is the sister-in-law of the sacrament of mar - Dolly, Levin’s sister-in-law. They don’t actually meet riage and Anna and until part 7. Yet Tolstoy suggests that there is some Vronsky in an adulter - mysterious link between them. What is it? ous union. Tolstoy has “deferred closure” of the wedding of Kitty and Levin (in the terminology used by D.A. Miller in Narrative and Its Discontents ), like any Jane Austen novel or contemporary wedding movie. Kitty and Levin have to overcome obsta - cles: Kitty reads Levin’s bachelor diaries and declares his past vile; Levin must go through the sacrament of confession to a priest; Levin’s late, but only because he had no shirt to wear. Then the joyous event occurs. But Tolstoy undercuts the joy. Some women outside declare: “What a pretty dear the bride is—like a lamb decked [for slaughter] . . . Well, say what you will, we women feel for our sister” (part 5, chapter 5). Thus the bride is viewed as a lamb sacrificed on the altar of male sexual desire. She needs sisterly compassion. Levin is moved by the ceremony. The prayer that the newlyweds be granted both “chastity and fruits of the womb” promises a way of redeeming sex. The same Levin who confessed his skepticism even contemplates God in the midst of this sacrament. As the ceremony declares that God “joins together in love them that were separate,” Levin wonders about his bride, “Is she feeling the same as I?” and after a glance, “concluded that she was understanding it just as he was.” But the narrator announces, “But this was a mistake; she almost completely missed the meaning of the words of the service.” At the central moment of the sacrament of marriage that pronounces unity, there is a separateness, and potentially alienation. And Two Honeymoons N E

V Kitty and Levin forego a wedding trip and go right to Levin’s Pokrovskoe to E

L start their life together. Levin feels guilty for not working and blames Kitty. E The narrator tells us that she is enjoying her last period of carefree life before E

R the never-ending, all-consuming labor of motherhood begins. Levin is sum - U T moned to the deathbed of his brother. Thus, in the midst of their honeymoon, C

E Levin and Kitty are reminded that they are their brother’s keeper. And their L

68 sister’s: They invite Dolly—whose family is in a terrible state—to spend the summer with them. Kitty accompanies Levin to the deathbed of Nicholas (part 5, chapters 17–20), where Kitty, relying on her experience in Soden, knows better than Levin how to deal with death. If her nursing experiment in Soden floundered on the rock of sexual jealousy, here the threat of eros has finally been elimi - nated. Nicholas is family, and the same doctor who pronounces Nicholas Levin dead pronounces Kitty pregnant. As one generation fades, a new gen - eration arises to perpetuate the Levin name. Kitty and Levin make a successful transition from their honeymoon to new stages of love for their future child, and quite possibly return to a state of chastity for the rest of the novel (to extrapolate from Tolstoy’s oft-uttered pro - hibitions on sex during pregnancy and lactation). In Italy, Anna and Vronsky enjoy a dilettantish and sybaritic life. Vronsky has had to resign from the army, which had given his life structure. Anna and especially Vronsky have trouble filling the time not spent in bed. The most significant event is their visit to the studio of the Russian painter, Mikhailov, where they see his painting of Christ before Pontius Pilate . Here, Christ’s face bears “an expression of pity, of love, of heavenly peace, of readiness for death, and a sense of the vanity of words” (part 5, chapter 11). Even as the characters seek to amuse themselves, Tolstoy reminds us of the vanity of human life and the imminence of death. Vronsky and Anna return to Russia because Anna yearns to see her son Seryozha and because Vronsky has affairs to settle. They, too, must make the transition from honeymoon mode. Anna’s reunion with her son is one of the more poignant scenes of the novel. What’s so remarkable is the grace, humility, and charity with which Anna carries herself. The rest of their stay in Petersburg proves disastrous. Vronsky is received, but doors are shut to Anna. Even Vronsky’s sister refuses to receive Anna. Anna becomes more and more undone. She lies, she manipulates, she alienates Vronsky. She appears at the opera. There she experiences public humiliation, like Nathaniel Hawthorne’s Hester Prynne wearing her scarlet letter in public, unlike the adulteress whom Jesus saves from stoning (John 8:1–11). From this point on, Anna must retreat. In part 6, the action shifts back and forth between Levin’s estate and the estate where Vronsky and Anna have set up house, a day’s carriage journey apart. At Levin’s, a family group spanning generations joins in jam-making and mushroom-picking. Levin is preoccupied with Kitty’s pregnancy. All energy is focussed on bringing this child safely into the world. At Vronsky’s estate everything is swank, new, and European, in contrast to the worn heirlooms at Levin’s Pokrovskoe. Tolstoy shows us how two particu - lar visitors, Dolly and Veslovsky, behave in the two environments. Vasenka Veslovsky, a distant Shcherbatsky relative, is a womanizer who is careless of Levin’s horses and dares to flirt with Kitty. Levin, to everyone’s horror, sends him packing. When he is back at Vronsky’s, he flirts with Anna, and Vronsky seems to enjoy it.

69 LECTURE ELEVEN 7 0 i R i o i d An a f sq f n f co t i a a w n A fa a L In o a h L A q ch sh Vr An a G a ng , m f t or or or he M W Th N As ro f th e d e d b e e n i e u l d om a a nd nd s. ie od t w r de o porta u m i e hey serv u s u le s vin d vin e u ot co ced d n e skol ldren he e us as Vro An it nsky nate e and lt lt sti lt bl a anwh D D p u , w ed rs An h sh ers, ers mp erou p a a unti of an mor n nh as e es fo ol o il d n on n t a u wa s C o a , n n ha to l Bi Me e l n o a n er Le vi r t in nt ly h —and sio d sed d ap py , as si re a sky’ y An rim i h a esn’t d kov’s vist pity l in ha its is as of rth the nig a ed s ile ve defin b is Le vi n pity a pa ne que ar K ve g n na po ss ib y r An o e to s tin n s, , a divor abilty on , uilty? ity be w a e e rt w ur to on ive an and a An nigh built an his re ve al s lien vent sex- n ret stion blam kn na, “h a in wh an d g afte a e dr 7 the sphe pe o do hea d s ha lso d w na t a i o bo urn he do eam h ce. tc he d siter m ate ich fe d hi ch comp t rva at l w Punish arsh but . fe el in g e How fien fo r ve with to ma go od , be e ore und rts is es ar Le un co ns livn th likes , re in r ho Vr d Vro t sive sur fo conv fe hat —ir co for in to p is or d, le w vin Tolst when fo r t , ” ons on e of w o r ar child he eling asion? te us? g d o An me Le vi n prised ne sce Ki tt y e. nsky heir t a to o nde , me o ie he m rm K o Ana lia t o r d hi m es ey her nicaly, examing ky’s yea dop f na it ty f c s Fath enial pea any ev en in g, Ma bilty ne What ren. s. An to io us ly d lo ve .” nt fix Ana y o rs self-pity, he An L th at wa o Karen n rnig (p a is bu rs ts But e-ad rmelad evin’s Moscw br . na. in sant esta Kity him. f she’ Karen to te erho How h On hop of a ing com nts to is m a rt lw ay s he kind th he An d th dur re e family in co h te, ” 7, pa com e for es in goes ict, e to wi th A rself fuse pasi d, lacks h t n in to are h d in. his ov in mpare endr ing ve a. n ch ap te r whic in get wh ol e as ig er she of “s he f na a ha f and to or—wil a ” pasion or ht, a ry Levin, But h a feling we ask. bay be t respon ( her te ar s the how a int ba pines? imself? part awit on. to Levin ri sk wo to a does ma rr ie d nd after e asking, kn ew o be d she she to e to ma g n Ana vist consider rds We ve lab mater 11 ). m et An , 7, wi of Anie a an d in respon s be terniy say, other the t se and ni n not dr is ld a wants is or. na chap , be in g An fo used p This sh e se ar in Le ermn Ag ai n, d art de an d a and sh g r de But What nity birth ivo na ’s king, judg can T the h fea his vin lost , has. do ne scribed ould he cl ar es is ter d? 1, ha d her a is divo ward rce to co nt am to ho no ra bl e befor Levin r, at son, liar, e ho na “fe b h on t birth an d of soul. Ho 1 T d Ob does e co ad wh T as desprat and at ta in ed we 6). Vronsky’ so rce he r escrib ol rse me lt e th he . b w ncea th at lonsky st oy a ich Worst for lame cond he fels fo un d o eir as tha for Levin scen h about and f long, in at ed seductr hosp ut mo st Doesn’t conde being and the ave the h canot exp a child. “t ha t e the l. is er d. emnd ma n. ” th “consi a his decla Ana he r sufer be of he r ital mo to takes su sp ic i is eir Doly a , Did mix is lokin first mn be esta rienc by waitng ha te fu l al to es. ten it, now felin Vro lega st remak ai m, she fut ch ar m ate be r er os . n ev in the o is is e time. de te. a o is nsky f s g ou s g n ly us l re t the a stil s gs r as n of n - a in - - t - A Death A few months later, Vronsky eats beefsteak for breakfast (his menu the day he killed Frou Frou) and quarrels with Anna. Anna decides that death is “the sole means of bringing back love for her in his heart, of punishing him, and of gaining the victory in that strife which the evil spirit in possession of her heart was waging with him” (part 7, chapter 26). Another day passes in enmity. Anna’s maid sends her to Dolly for sisterly love, for compassion. As she rides through the city streets of Moscow, Anna’s mind is bombarded with chaotic impressions. Anna resolves to seek Dolly’s help. She reconstructs her vir - ginal, innocent self, who visited monasteries and had a pure soul. She reviews her life, as people are said to do in the moment before death. Dolly is occupied with Kitty, there to consult about breastfeeding—the quin - tessential maternal activity. After an awkward exchange, Anna leaves. The Shcherbatsky sisters, Kitty and Dolly, tend to the survival of their Shcherbatsky species, but they appear to fail to love their fallen sister. As Anna continues on her journey, she observes someone making the sign of the cross as church bells ring and she asks, “Why these churches and this ringing and this humbug? Simply to conceal that we all hate each other, like these cab drivers who are abusing each other so angrily.” In her bitterness, Anna rejects the Christian message of neighborly love. When she finally emerges from the train at the station, she overhears a conversation (in French): “Reason is given man . . . in order to escape his troubles.” Anna resolves to kill herself. In the scene of her death, Anna first struggles to throw away her red hand - bag, which happens to be the same handbag she carried at the start of the novel, and then makes the sign of the cross in an instinctive gesture, as if she were about to plunge into water for a swim. Again she returns to her innocent, virginal self, through making the sign of the cross. Now the sign of the cross has meaning; it returns her to God from a world of hatred. Her last words are “God, forgive me everything.” And a Non-Suicide When everyone assembles at the end of Anna Karenina at Levin’s estate at Pokrovskoe, Dolly mentions that Oblonsky has seen Vronsky on the train, but Anna is not mentioned; memory of Anna seems lost forever. However, Tolstoy does in fact make Anna’s presence felt, in Levin’s life at the end of the novel. Tolstoy haunts Levin with the same ultimate questions (“Why live?”) that drove Anna to her death. Levin isn’t aware of the similarity, because Anna doesn’t seem to enter his mind, but the reader is. Tolstoy actually planned (in drafts) to have Levin be at the fateful train station and observe Anna’s corpse cut in two. In part 8, Levin finds himself tormented by thoughts of suicide as he attempts to find answers to the questions about life and death. On the last day of the action of the novel, as Levin is going about the business of his farm, feeling as though he can’t go on, he falls into con - versation with a peasant named Fyodor. Fyodor contrasts two other peas -

71 LECTURE ELEVEN 7 2 q o q h l a o t sh p l f “ s a e n e L p o I n a a o he n M An L ue n ue i n n e l mse st gu g n i y a e e swe e r r e v n i v d e s o p s t s i h t uc t de son vin n st i st i g u o h ’s w mo e , se a h o fi n e n o on on l n t wh ’s f “ f, r rld u h and c . o ment e y a l in ms in g n o h t . f t ighb cris h his er th at of s o t . th to e h w faith t h . a r Le h t e th e “W h to n i k s t s a e n i v i l Ho , r i f f hate ru or. she o e re st w just vin a h ha an ns —faith s m , s e v i l “ we ou ld s li y g L mi ts n i k s f o ve d declar migh l ea v e cou of b ver, r o f iv e? f f e h t br u o efo simlary a pl a n i ch f o pa r ea f a t nte d n r o in , n a m f e h ” re t at nd d u s u l a v gu e o a kthro t es be loving th t r 8, a f the t e h b a m e he to n e d er d n a — y l l e tha h t i e xt e se ” wi th To ls to y. s ugh ) ” n t a h t r retu f o train very and en eason l u o nt n i y l one Vronsky’ n i v o l n a it s of s i h t e s as recal , s i d n a ned we’r end, cuts d ’ s e s n ne ig hb or ly di s s . sekr Th is a t g e h t o f n i Perh neig cu e r to g n i k o k l her when Ana’s h t s ’ e n read m e m ss n a the h t o ki nd d s i w e hbor aps friend io in d a r o p m i a r e y n on bos g i e n r e w s n r e b Ana two. a t n a v m o of lo ve . this to o o h w evn l ast f t Yashvin he lo ve s strip th e r o b h n a t m o b a G is despr be e g same s e v i l Th is o t o ” d o e c th co what wa s f t u . the gs ough, f o h God nf li ct f o s i g n i v i l n a ( wa s, p m i s God is o n a shir path. th e ate r f e r q A righ d s e u and n in as h t na ’s t d l u o w g n i n i a y l so lu ti on ho we ve r, intero r o f fr Se rb ia , e t: t Levin forgiven he ; s n o i om r o f faith r lear we’r e h t n o s r e p reminds e h t the ns f e r e h t mo r f in l u o s e h m finds to fo cu se s at al e b on lovin es, a o th e e f . th th .y l l r o in sa e e an - e sl e r g FOR GREATER UNDERSTANDING

Questions

1. Kitty and Levin’s wedding is a joyous event. How and why does Tolstoy cast doubt? 2. Why is Anna all alone at the very end of her life? 3. Does Tolstoy sympathize with Anna or condemn her?

Suggested Reading

Tolstoy, Leo. Anna Karenina. Trans. Constance Garnett. Rev. by Leonard J. Kent and Nina Berberova. New York: Modern Library, 2000.

Other Books of Interest

Knapp, Liza, and Amy Mandelker, eds. Approaches to Teaching Anna Karenina. New York: Modern Language Association of America, 2001. Miller, D.A. Narrative and Its Discontents: Problems of Closure in the Traditional Novel. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1981. Steiner, George. Tolstoy or Dostoevsky: An Essay in the Old Criticism. 2nd ed. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1996. Tanner, Tony. Adultery in the Novel: Contract and Transgression. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1981.

Films

73 Lecture 12: Anton Chekhov: Writer, Doctor, Humanist

The Suggested Readings for this lecture are Anton Chekhov’s “Kashtanka” in Cathy Popkin’s (ed.) Anton Chekhov’s Short Stories, “Rothschild’s Fiddle” in Stories translated by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky, and Alexander Chudakov’s “Dr. Chekhov: A Biographical Essay (29 January 1860–15 July 1904)” in Vera Gottlieb and Paul Allain’s (eds.) The Cambridge Companion to Chekhov .

Chekhov’s Consider this . . . Background Throughout his life, Chekhov alternated between Anton Pavlovich literature and medicine, claiming to enjoy the variety. Chekhov stands out And yet he approached them both with the same among the so-called humanistic spirit. giants of nineteenth- century Russian litera - ture for various reasons: background, professional training, and preferred genres. Avoiding novels, Chekhov is known rather for his mastery of—and innovation in—the short story and drama. His training as a physician gave him firsthand scientific knowledge of the basic facts of life that are at the heart of fiction as well as a respect for data. And yet Chekhov’s works are filled with a sense of the poetry of life. Chekhov stands apart from Turgenev, Dostoevsky, and Tolstoy in part because he belongs to a different generation. Although he died before Tolstoy (1828–1910), Chekhov (1860–1904) was his junior by more than thirty years. Chekhov also differs from our other authors, all from the gentry, by virtue of his background: His paternal grandfather was a serf who bought his family’s freedom in 1841. Chekhov had no illusions about the peasant life that his pre - decessors so romanticized. Chekhov’s family history is full of tales of poverty, hard work, and cruelty that reached back for generations and continued into his own childhood. As he put it in a letter, he had “peasant blood flowing in his veins,” so you couldn’t “impress him with peasant virtues.” Chekhov believed that the backward conditions of peasant life caused untold suffering and that concrete steps should be taken to improve these conditions. He thus did not share the phobia about progress that Tolstoy and Dostoevsky sometimes expressed. He believed in progress, because he appreciated (as he said) “the difference between the period when [he] was beaten and when they stopped beating [him].”

E Chekhov grew up in a family of five sons and a daughter. His father ran a V L

E dry goods store in Taganrog, a port town on the Black Sea. Chekhov’s early

W exposure to multiple cultures in a port town, to diverse tradesmen around the T

E harbor, and even to the array of goods in his father’s store—as well as to all R

U the customers—contributed to Chekhov’s “lexicon” and his knowledge of the T

C world (Chudakov, pp. 3–5). E L

74 While Tolstoy and Dostoevsky tended to wear their religious concerns on their sleeve, Chekhov refrained from preaching about anything other than humanistic values. He was wary of dogmatic and self-righteous representa - tives of organized religion. And yet Chekhov’s stories are imbued with Russian Orthodox religious culture, and the need for ethical values, the importance of compassion, and the value of acts of kindness are implied if not stated. Julie de Sherbinin points out that Chekhov actually knew this reli - gious culture more intimately than the “giants” of Russian literature (p. 1). Chekhov grew up in this religious culture and knew the Bible and the liturgy quite well. He also had a feel for folk religious culture. Chekhov’s family took education seriously. When his father went bankrupt and moved to Moscow to avoid creditors in 1876, Chekhov stayed behind to finish school, earning money by tutoring. In 1879 Chekhov moved to Moscow to study medicine at Moscow University. While still in medical school, Chekhov began publishing humorous stories. Remarkable in Chekhov’s fami - ly story is how responsible Chekhov felt for the financial well-being of his fam - ily. For all the hardships (and some bad memories), Chekhov had a strong sense of family. Doctor Chekhov After completing his medical degree, Chekhov both practiced medicine and wrote. As he wrote in a letter, “Medicine is my lawful wife and literature is my mistress; when I get tired of one, I spend the night with the other.” He set up practice in Moscow in the early years, but failed to make much of a financial go at it, because he wasn’t good at collecting from his patients. Ultimately, writing was what earned him money. At various points, he financed medical ventures or gave freely of his time. Thus, he bought his country estate at Melikhovo, near Moscow, in 1892 and started a medical clinic, where he treated local peasants himself. In 1890, Chekhov went to a penal colony on the remote island of Sakhalin (near Japan), did a census, interviewed inhabitants, and wrote an account called “The Island of Sakhalin,” which is credited with having inspired penal reform. Throughout his life, as health permitted, Chekhov acted on his social conscience. E.M. Forster points out that most of us have limited knowledge of birth and death. Chekhov is the exception. In his medical practice, Chekhov was exposed to the thresholds of existence, birth and death, and everything in between. He himself suffered from tuberculosis from 1884 (not diagnosed until 1897) and other ailments. Chekhov prided himself on his understanding of women and the sexuality of both genders; he expressed some annoyance at Tolstoy’s attitudes toward these matters. From “Antosha Chekhonte” to Anton Chekhov Chekhov’s early works appeared in humorous journals under pseudonyms, often “Antosha Chekhonte.” “Chekhonte” was the name that Father Pokrovsky, the religious education teacher at Taganrog, used for him. According to Chekhov lore, this Father Pokrovsky imparted to Chekhov a love of literature and language as well as knowledge of religion. Chekhov also experimented with other pseudonyms. Eventually, however, he signed his works with his own name.

75 LECTURE TWELVE 7 6 in K “e Ch c tha ic bi “R re no the na ey F Ch m fo h h h str a ch h a sh e e m wi ch in “ h to The r te e sn sta r th o Ka ec evo “K “K Be hap er as ea nd er nces d is xami n lus as al ste rth, g ixed ast l m e “ str ga th us e- lo ri e est ez n- rr a b myst ek ek n n as ash by len , sht No sten cau th nge . rs, dog e tal hta name atio b w h din gre mi v i l an a rd be an ad a Mat si ter er ved ve y (G hov hov irth. nu iew : hta e a ing bil -u n ou e gt a an p , tes ank c gh de A ta lthoug geme ing. nka’ fro d e g r. se e ’s r d n og (a at i i abine de t-co a p l h, ca g, is milt t s ed . ur nka” r nka riou og’s , B t d t as rou spair Her and the poi (narr has may m aps , T K “d In an gard of fro “ta dru oesn the scri h io ll set ha Ch who e “K his s One ash l ” ed e lo as ream- graph u ary mu ” “A nt s d nd nt” is m w Che m le p is h e ve ash t-m p red nk ekho beg tre p is master bi to A erspective mar in ated hom stra be pa en-var story nt.” “R such a argu t tan m ersp Che of h a ’t th in Gove ch un he ng o (na ban a o con ats explo ome aker who m “childr tan inful ne estle stam khov stor e an f mo h view,” worth wor t y, tie ka story nge gina he v In oti a the m e as rrating khov Und in ectiv. she ably ten sid d the ka.” gives devic, a tha le ng t ost ed is rnm . iety y , to he “Aun o k,” is bout the b ss if re an d r” p ar The n L l most er of en alco tr re rel p er t uka existnc with tion was r tak of “fa wondering and altern h w including ned the b . famo d ain to ublish They the e Night,” ent ed o d deb am is “ gr y t ’s T ho nga tie.” us ur hir from lost Chek og (“ is cts T E e interlu borrow he ny, one ound in fe kashtn sto Ale he as shot transition r one lizabeth uncompreh ”. perhaps boundaries a d Clerk” to sep t (hum emarkable ut ta special g he us et story ately ges of haunting have big and He person kes ry” the its in a story be xandr a perfo sne which or arte life”: s e gose’ ev ov’s de also fresh in h “Ka xample, of fan an) keps (g a and a conise. Freud’s voices shout umor foun whether loving from h g (18 ka” a who rown-u with cirus nt, er the Barrett rmance ze insight is ych. , gone sh h fo ) d mat from joyus nar b Woolf d erslf, 83), was to perspective, home, th od d,” elong fr one d tanka” ending escr means a p between le a lowy jour escr othe om th nasty i place, nd arts go ure nother s: and , O of ator but told tr ter beyond e act. Kashtanka p) sle an a A there ne ibe into joke, Browning’s A aditon culminate h nal be bout her uses str at iption reun r m), peri bef to n of fans is ep fe civl abu d Dost in ear not a day, s umbe eyes). in yo thing chest When ange og s the ha nimals for this both “Ka literary ore maste the particular, ( od ds love, life wasn’t wh nd t one ion. ly es it a sive he the vin serva fel mer gets th of ciru in is refusing shtanka” dog, out s thr evsky’ er h (187). r tradio death long nut r the e and th g love third death er n the Rusian at especially gim ), The s “device” o to Tolstoyan and e-pa at r. it ow as d master f cocker o lost in traditio Kash nt s, ther p some normal in her etrm his Auntie de it n Althoug death, if she lenty, go and wel the pers story Aun cow se m of e Rusian) death. she n.) in serv. ick, . shows in ra early Be to e ge ay is T tank the se arly Virginia is wer dea , ined ms the he death, influence n. of tie ed liter on nds use spaniel. a cause the a wer one doe not maste is boundaries being nd end “rescu interesting dies, technique goose In the go strange sudenly stor th work by It but like a city. ature she that (short) “labels” with tha son sn’t is have tigh this omits s metaphor misunder of who dog’s- th hu se, more ies it distrac with convey rpiec, Woolf’s the a and e exp It’s the Like and ca man hit she ca d” from the “long, of tha limts sy a r lives me ling by a her the cat, but on of of ri ------“Kashtanka” also is an inquiry into the forms of love—from the heart of a dog. We see different forms of love. We see her joy at the dramatic reunion with her master, but we also see Kashtanka in earlier stages “deciding” which life was better. Clearly the heart of the dog, like the human heart, “has its reasons of which reason knows nothing” (to quote Pascal). But what is most poignant in this love story is how it shows Kashtanka—despite her now-full belly—beset by a sadness that would sometimes take hold over her “like twilight over a room.” In the midst of this sadness, she would have an inchoate image of two figures who seemed familiar, as if she used to see them and love them. In this way Chekhov evokes the way that what we have loved and lost stays with us. Janet Malcolm (pp. 200–201) suggests that “Kashtanka” can be read as a fable expressing Chekhov’s ambivalence about his new literary success: Had he become a circus animal doing tricks for the public and anxious to please a new master? Chekhov had indeed “arrived” on the literary scene by 1886 (the date usually cited). He continued to write and publish a great deal until his trip to Sakhalin (1890), which constitutes a natural break in his career. Worth spe - cial mention from this period is “The Name-Day Party,” where Chekhov, using his medical knowledge to describe a miscarriage, offers a portrait of the com - plexities of marital love, as illuminated in a moment of crisis. Chekhov narrates from the third person but conveys the woman’s point of view. In 1890 Chekhov made his trip to Sakhalin. Not long after he returned, Russia suffered a terrible famine. Like Tolstoy, Chekhov became involved in relief work. Chekhov also returned to medicine during a cholera epidemic. He continued to write stories during this period. A number of them are related to his “medical” and “social” activities (“Ward No. 6”—a story that asks, in the best tradition of Russian literature, what the suffering of others has to do with us; and shows answers becoming clear in the face of death; “The Duel”— which in some ways is his closest approach to the novelistic form) or to his travels (“Gusev”—memorable for its description of a death at sea). An important story from this period is “Rothschild’s Fiddle” (1894), which is a classic Chekhovian take on love and death, in the Russian tradition. It tells of a coffin-maker in a small town, where business was poor. Though the town had a lot of old people, “they died so rarely it was even annoying”; even the jail and the hospital gave him little business. Yakov earns extra money play - ing his fiddle in a Jewish orchestra in the town, weddings mostly. We are told that “For no apparent reason, Yakov gradually began to be filled with hatred and contempt for the Jews, and especially for Rothschild,” who is the flutist and plays even the happy songs mournfully (translation by Pevear and Volokhonsky, Anton Chekhov: Stories, p. 254). “He even started picking on him, abusing him with bad words, and once was even about to give him a beating, and Rothschild got offended and, looking at him fiercely, said: ‘If not for respecting your talent, I’d be chucking you out the window long ago ’” (p. 254). Yakov continues to live in hatred and isolation, until his wife announces that she is dying. Yakov is struck by the fact that now she suddenly has a happy look on her face, as if she welcomed death. (What does that say about the life they share?) He then recalls that all their life he had never once been gentle with her. Here we have a typical Chekhovian moment where the importance of one small act of compassion is signaled. He takes her to the clinic, but then makes her coffin; before dying she reminds him of their babe

77 LECTURE TWELVE 7 8 a e a e d H n p d n Si p ( a p Ka C T o C t j a “ h t R a h ( a h w w t e b h t a h w e he er he hi 1 u l T C C In Th nd ss p ve i i o i e e ike t l f n e s a n e n u a b i ol e he a u h o h d cat sti ays cts, s ster” 8 n he s h sing w r e d r s d coun t d u he he Che r se, sia ich rdl o h stoy’ w formed 8 it e l o t enia i is lack r he emr mp se ate next l not ngui s he po k a i a yda e o wri de a cia ion ag a s il di kh kh we esly, im hov st ther s – ls stor sa ” and i p child, n c ed w kh int do b ts n at 1 la q e “Go t te ov ov Ru ro tio an tha b cluding pact in him, y, time. ring h id sh if of 89 (1 i ue ar lect an h: al efor s te , ov’s of ctor r a e is s fesion f y, g a fity n th avor 901 sian went Roth a is h t to with b e t n kind t nd stion associ na his is ti-S ran sp oda 1 sto voidng f ad wi b thea fu y ); o ure e id seb who this of lef n e o 890 vent y h ne Ro at and l- stor ecifaly showing tur th ye evr ften ), dle b the P ave it ries. sla emits. r stor the b nes t schild Ch y: ut Rot em le br , e lay to and en dea ter a ars to the e thsc o s, al a an in die r ngt utal ies nd te ated “ r f “The t wr nove bou ekhov’s a .” o The ath o t cre emb ies: ie mu help . wri hscild, g ju he Che Che calou d the Du f th’s in p Cou a M it Roth h Th t s,” “The inte dg Je his life. o th “I riest) in go er come dite t? sic. p ild to oscow som ght t p ring with n ho wr he l Darling” at er h the is Se ed or w g khov’s khov e histron la and As , of do th er re ntles In r gr th is ing sne schild. f trais e whet itng but d w ys, s at in is, or a Che Yakov an . sted p re e gret ie tory e adulte or. m t larg is Robert m s with this who er lays his He of Gul” t “On f defin fity the Ravine”) amon he dive tha elting “Iva to oved Yakov A answeri in ten a in Chek with ry best, rt ic, of e nd mod poign for pe timaely tre er in the ask an abou red t having arives on stage T ye Lo Theater. p nov” ry. dies ye (1896 peas we Orcha mu riod dram ated agnr art, it anger d g not ater Lo by unde of ars ve”; con ern the s him was is “ can’t o antly hi ov t ting The sp ; uis ther inde the ming his so (18 by d he ha o s his g to ago, cepts her ar ), the eath. playwrigh ben eak nt bviousl and while og involed o rstae to t on d” th ok a on Jackso vi ime fr ften introd e the “Uncle hear pla prod Lad recal. Its ed, “trilog and thing life om em, ate 7) n case play when as considered (190 poet ther o g at him and trea yin director, f volume, of Yakov in and bet y r leavs Ya ment, Marf lo (“ t uced if youth, cr boldy y ucing showing with at strume s, with th The g ved . with dram ry 3). y” n sh of tmen os-pu kov we She no about Va after with Yakov ts he at a la a “Th h a o co e nd “to t as r nya” con resp f his storie o soner the Peasn ge find does was we could. be the n is nsitg thing sufe the curs when e dies , adr death Konstantin de s the ntal a his bu the an fore the playing Wo rpose, sider was four re lite, rgued of Dog,” dies how onse empha orch (189 same right t s d g two s com es ring.” a a work “love in tels originators intersco . on He befo he the nd d having open- ts,” d masterpic enhanced cat but Th to ram estra, so herald him precious 7), of , to D are o tha e a wrote atricly. Yakov s Chekov mad e his tech ,” the sizng ne ilumnatg emon” discue n re or in “Man pa to Ana “Thre n the late” a cofin-ma Stanislavsky, an notably end, ary reconil the death, radoxicly a theraf fid of the in love, o prie ing an e niques ne dog. isue influe lite the two a reg with d or y of plot, thea comu le by in st ha of o last h Y alb Ho s, “b fo f a r a ako a tha ea A his n ets love su d ke in o n th et r stil tha dfu t d ce w e r, th f d r e - , r b it t r ly v e . - - t l “Method” acting. To the extent his health allowed, Chekhov took part in the staging of his plays, attempting often to stand up for his vision in opposition to Stanislavsky. Chekhov, for example, insisted that the comedic should come through in “The Cherry Orchard.” Chekhov fell in love with and married an actress from the Moscow Art Theater, Olga Knipper. (Chekhov had been amorously linked to many women up until that point, but had not married; his younger sister remained his devoted care - taker.) Chekhov and Knipper married in 1901, but were forced to spend time apart because of her career and his health. Chekhov, ill with tuberculosis, spent time in Yalta by the Black Sea rather than in Moscow. Throughout his life, Chekhov wrote many letters (accessible in fine English translations, such as Heim’s). Chekhov’s and Knipper’s letters in these last years of Chekhov’s life give a picture of theater life and Chekhov’s world. In 1904, Chekhov’s health worsened. Olga took Chekhov to Germany when he was already near death. Olga Knipper has left an account of his last hours. In accordance with medical custom, when one doctor attended the death of another doctor, he would order a bottle of champagne when death was clearly near (Rayfield, pp. 596–597). When the German doctor who was taking care of him took his pulse and offered him champagne, Chekhov understood, and said, in German, “Ich sterbe,” noting that he hadn’t drunk champagne in some time. Chekhov’s body was brought back to Russia for burial in a train car marked “Oysters”—one of the few cars with refrigeration. This biographical detail has been the subject of much commentary. The writer Maxim Gorky declared it to be an affront to a writer who decried vulgarity. Others have seen a wry irony in this fact that Chekhov himself would have appreciated. Translations Quotations from “Rothschild’s Fiddle” are from the translation by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky, in Anton Chekhov’s Stories (New York: Bantam Books, 2000). Chekhov’s “Kashtanka” has appeared as an illustrated children’s book in abridged translation. The full text may be found in The Cook’s Wife and Other Stories, which is volume 12 of The Tales of Chekhov, translated by Constance Garnett (New York, Ecco: 1986) and translated by Pevear and Volokhonsky in the Norton Critical Edition of Anton Chekhov’s Short Stories. Ed. Cathy Popkin. (2nd edition. New York: W.W. Norton, 2006).

79 FOR GREATER UNDERSTANDING

Questions

1. How did religion figure in Chekhov’s life and works? 2. How did Chekhov’s medical training inform his literary work? 3. Why is Chekhov considered a major innovator in the field of drama?

Suggested Reading

Chekhov, Anton. “Kashtanka.” Anton Chekhov’s Short Stories. Ed. Cathy Popkin. Norton Critical Edition . 2nd ed. New York: W.W. Norton, 2006. ———. “Rothschild’s Fiddle.” Stories . Trans. Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky. New York: Bantam Books, 2000. Chudakov, Alexander. “Dr Chekhov: A Biographical Essay (29 January 1860–15 July 1904).” Eds. Vera Gottlieb and Paul Allain. The Cambridge Companion to Chekhov. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000.

Other Books of Interest

Chekhov, Anton P., and Olga Knipper. Dear Writer, Dear Actress: The Love Letters of Anton Chekhov and Olga Knipper. Selected, ed., and trans. Jean Benedetti. London: Methuen Publishing, Ltd., 1998. ———. A Life in Letters . Ed. Rosamund Bartlett. Trans. Anthony Phillips. New York: Penguin, 2004. De Sherbinin, Julie. Chekhov and Russian Religious Culture: The Poetics of the Marian Paradigm. Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press, 1997. Jackson, Robert Louis, ed. Reading Chekhov’s Text. Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press, 1993. ———. “If I Forget Thee, O Jerusalem?: An Essay on Chekhov’s ‘Rothschild’s Fiddle.’” Eds. Savely Senderovich and Munir Sendich. Anton Chekhov Rediscovered. East Lansing, MI: Russian Language Journal, 1987. ———. “‘Rothschild’s Fiddle’: ‘By the Waters of Babylon’ in Eastern Liturgy.” Chekhov the Immigrant: Translating a Cultural Icon. Ed. Michael Finke and Julie de Sherbinin. Bloomington, IN: Slavica, forthcoming 2007. E

V Malcolm, Janet. Reading Chekhov: A Critical Journey. New York: Random L

E House, 2002. W T E R U T C E L

80 Lecture 13: Chekhovian Compassion: Revisions of Peasant Life and Adulterous Love

The Suggested Readings for this lecture are Anton Chekhov’s “Lady with a Dog” and “Peasants” in Constance Garnett’s (trans.) The Chekhov Omnibus: Selected Stories .

“Peasants” Consider this . . . In “Peasants,” Chekhov Chekhov knew firsthand what the life of peasants presents a view of peas - was like, and he knew more about human sexual ant life that is anything behavior than his giant predecessors. Keep an but prettified or romanti - eye out for his ability to observe and narrate cized. In one short story, human behavior. he reacts, from the gut, or from the veins, to the tradition of idealizing peasant life, found in different forms in the writings of Dostoevsky, who represents the bestiality of the Russian peasant, but in the next breath reminds us of the innate faith and implicit superiority of the Russian peasant to peasants of other national origin, and Tolstoy, who at times tried to imitate peasant life. None of this sat well with Chekhov. Indeed, “Peasants” expresses in story form the truth—the hard facts—of peasant life that Chekhov stated in a famous letter of March 27, 1894, which is excerpted below: YALTA, March 27, 1894 . . . I have peasant blood in my veins, and you won’t astonish me with peasant virtues. From my childhood I have believed in progress, and I could not help believing in it since the difference between the time when I used to be thrashed and when they gave up thrashing me was tremendous. . . . But Tolstoy’s philosophy touched me profoundly and took possession of me for six or seven years, and what affected me was not its general propositions, with which I was familiar beforehand, but Tolstoy’s manner of expressing it, his reasonableness, and proba - bly a sort of hypnotism. Now something in me protests, reason and justice tell me that in the electricity and heat of love for man there is something greater than chastity and abstinence from meat. War is an evil and legal justice is an evil; but it does not follow from that that I ought to wear bark shoes and sleep on the stove with the labourer . . . the thing is that in one way or another Tolstoy has passed for me. (Garnett translation) “Peasants” also reflects certain facts of peasant life in the aftermath of the Emancipation of the Serfs. There was an exodus of peasants to the city, when peasants couldn’t make a go of life back on the farm on the small plots they had received. The story begins with Nikolai Chikildeev returning from the city back to his village, with his wife Olga and their daughter. He had worked

81 LECTURE THIRTEEN 8 2 a e p m a h l o w f cr p a d st M o d r Wh m b b va p w u e d p r m w An i h Em se a so p w o a sh a a n ea e e “ “ We n o n e f r n e f i i o a p d r e i n o n p s h h h o Pe Pe w an es g ng a u a o e r e a iven se te r m e th ce in d r t g th wn ; a st-Ema e p her e n en er at rks a tr e r r the n vice to p i sel sen li atevr an mi nt ra san ea rea t y, tro a w t zes e t d es e came l nt t as as he he ea of i of at , l arch, w pla it ear a be rem ir erst h t d ret ci Ka stake t o f, rea of b r ed rs t hat dr g el ai h wa i h ce. o he r san a hi lm h s w s r o h t y li patio valu p rad e nt nt whic twe om y se tion se cousin er urn ter t unke ves, n om life re n bo th s to as to rovid hat h th der in , the ncipa kenig pr a s” s” and Mot the e to a On i b ts e t Sa whe nia, af e d n e der e hu r ha h ; the in e, es role. rot iest su tha ru to to g n, choie is te o fu ter ave s ow, Nikola n it m in Mo pr by exp evn n sha’ sban t es. f her s th cirum t twis, nke po a ls s nctio her sh fam (b) be pe re of ove. heir tur M while tion oximty evr th h pea th f s mat the e ch or fina scow of i usba din osc n e Be just m to e o ing rm e plan each and Nikola n? s of Slavin to sed ctaio ila f ants d whic do the et roling tho fe sant city, ar p gr yon was ern t for bet an Em husb eat the yea he G s the is eas Or sta t min b ’t r cia t es an he h nd w. ned o live when ug ival od ea e tha t with Moth is o afe we al of at ar o e ancip . “M fac n scrap nce rns dm h eld l so f d long d by fa In h childr . sum In te f a s w d e blam e n Le e s dea ski t . empt ra nts t d As ari” nd’s ugest in hat in e o. wit ith ts ecsity—h the mbra ct ife n under The own ers re n othe som t may Chekov’s in th s seking fted for er vin hat she a , the a the The of two monig versd. him h th. eory is e th inte B in nd t y in tion, b nd he es en he of , tel a a ind ano oth at to u as e story r, pe do te once ce, a a fo into be zar, Moscw; buse, Chekov ar vil p was the s G rpe having th “h part li ser wa d l Ze forest. is hil d “go pro r ling asnt n’t irect st the part n my, t la irectly. od tha ther was Niko e rove he omes,” o driven such ostalgi- a en, sen mstvo ys the ge, fdom ne, perv Z end ted teciv he r i and he abou . cip home sinter a ealy t sim Z money emstvo so defin sem T of evocat the Olg glimpse lai emstvo su r sual famou rapt. re him hey arm Olga life. din’t fals it What ate s by as f ultane much the tram or she posed leav wer hom rsion t st n, an whe a is bu was kn it eig De it op y agi l and in abuse. from One io pleasur had a write this d no Th si t liturg ow io pres and for was, an ced s pling to rev n f hap want e ht. he n ck a h or wil s ns was Sher t ously e pr so of of re dminster he is o “sup n. d b Olg be compa a the sto re wha the siter-n f evrything Mo Z and ovide y Meanwh staur to he her pen ” y, tales is the “M wife a als “ tha hard emstvo se sure nce. sytem prog her som N nd the Fyo the e much ry, supoe a bin pro r port absen b ther re qu other t ikola ca wh ecaus site da to a lose mater the turn. d Olga d she like th nd cab sionate estion kla, choie only about e vide l lot. nt irect beat Sh ughte her erv es” by to netw at -law, Moscw, ate (p. h i to s ile, Zem Sas r in t, Moscw.” g a e omin Chikldev o “Ka quakes this the coming nal hi U th an lso f o site rea do d social tha whera featur th refncs Moscw. wha ntio ges. as ltima loca ne s back it ork” e life s r op 74–83), r ha, to d Mar rashe shtank,” stvo other in income, Sash remin figures she lize with g gen serf-o are beg m en. the who goes ta r-inlaw t befo instc this at tely, aternl for ia, At es his he (a) g ke and at in eration was home al it ca s overn it: Certain d la her ds this site lives wne of was enjo ifer upro hom Kira chu re now on may pea Sash actu to n. st, con wr He h mixed He in Niko leg ave lo h o to the th to T ong th a rch - set e r r. - s ca r- ys wa - e, ot he a a a cti in e r k - be a o a in- la l l ly In - a l t f s - i But both Olga and Sasha maintain their faith. Throughout their stay they pray, read the gospels, and live a life of forgiveness and compassion. Is religion here “the opium of the people”? One could argue that their faith makes Olga and Sasha too passive, too meek. Why don’t they rebel? Chekhov is, it seems, inviting readers to question Olga and Sasha’s faith. In a context where man, woman, and child constantly suffer beatings, it is natural to ponder the meaning of “turning the other cheek.” And yet there are other ways of looking at their faith: Their forgiveness and compassion may also be seen as embodi - ments of the true spirit of Russian Orthodoxy. Chekhov leaves it open-ended. How do we respond to the end of the story? Olga and Sasha set off for “home,” for Mother Moscow. Olga recognizes the degradation and suffering that peasant causes fellow peasant. She also acknowledges that “there was nothing in their lives for which one could not find excuse.” She “feels sorry for all these people, painfully so,” but she is glad to leave (Garnett translation). As the story ends, we see Olga and Sasha, along the road to Moscow, beg - ging for alms in the name of Christ. The story thus ends with questions about love and compassion in the face of suffering and degradation. They’re the same questions that inspired Dostoevsky to write Crime and Punishment. Thus, in “Peasants,” Chekhov responds to Tolstoy, while reopening questions that Dostoevsky tried to answer. “Lady with a [Little/Toy] Dog” The title of the story appears in different forms, depending on the translation: “Lady with a Dog” (also known as “Lady with a Little Dog” and “Lady with a Toy Dog.”). The Russian uses the word for dog with a suffix added to make what is called a diminutive form in Russian. The diminutive form is in part used to signal size, for the Pomeranian (white spitz) fits in the category of small dogs. On some level, the dog in this story is a red herring. He figures in the beginning of the story, because that’s how everyone apparently identified this woman when she first appeared on the embankment at Yalta. When the hero, Dmitry Dmitrych Gurov, first wants to make her acquaintance, he tries to do it through the dog, who growls at him. Gurov continues to refer to her as “the lady with the dog” in his own mind, even after he knows her full name, Anna Sergeevna von Dideritz. The dog does figure in the story once again, midway through, when Gurov goes to the town where she lives, observes her house from across the way, and sees a beggar approach the gate. The “dogs” attack him and he retreats. Then Gurov is tempted to call the dog, but was too moved to remember its name. Later, back in his hotel, he, with some irony, refers to her in his mind as the “lady with the little dog,” but throughout the last chapter, which describes their feelings turning to love, the dog has been left behind in his thoughts of her. Although the story is diminutive compared to Tolstoy’s novel of adultery Anna Karenina or Flaubert’s Madame Bovary, Chekhov’s “Lady with a Dog” has many of the morphological features of a novel of adultery. It is one of several stories by Chekhov that treat the theme of adultery in response to lengthier treatments of the problem. Chekhov christens a number of his fic - tional adulteresses Anna, thus making them namesakes of Tolstoy’s heroine. It’s Chekhov’s way of signaling his revision of the Tolstoyan take on the adul - tery plot. In “The Duel,” a novella on the theme of adultery that comments

83 LECTURE THIRTEEN 8 4 r ca m a b l w r t a co t ( Ph f B s s t m t h b r c d n o T t d c e p i ( o h i f a f o K 8 1 f o m o n ha ha am or s g n i h e h e h r o ig h a e Sh C In C On ta n on lo l a u x e is e yi em yp f b y r ve n t s l o o t u e r it ose or uc o x e s ti sp e se, m h c i h w le he co e l p o , s 0 9 k e h e h t va h a ng se p o d t t di r r a m 0 9 8 1 , H e d r u m a e n de oc r te o ou al s o t c o d s o p “ e rise c h . mun erson n na al on tl ma wh ca ll th ov ” sc mp o y o kh ry st e . o e z y e z i l a u cou ri spr m mn , in pe v o h s th e Th o e c i e T u us s lize se . n i el te o n i o o ex pr ov u s h t a f ny pl i to es r g a i in ora ght he assi h s scen Fl a f t , ) f “ the evr n ites —an o s l Ch e is h s. e t ea la o S e b r n i ot ld th at ner T n i r ne d of h c hi , t ad au b th at e e h C r a inse A o m wha e c o c the e c r dy ol do ct or ls. e k i l g n i k is S d s es se ding wh to say g r on. r na a n d e v i l spi g th e a h d e ul te em ad esit e st oy . u o n a ch s a kh s ” p m in ad ul c d a of er t di . with Gur a a b of h k t l u rts a t o t the af in n t d ulter ri ol a I ov ’s a a h . e s r he d nd n e st ur be d ber a D wh n , s i l i h p y s re ss , ( t to wn —t ho se sho the t d d e n i a l Ka ” . wou y n r hat a t e l o t v o . e r u Do ct or wa s Jo air , octor um s sto u te re ss , e p m o c of e b m u n one t c a f ov mse lusio cast He rs in a u x e tels a pu n s i h T ich t l u f h t i a f n s o t s l o T ren r e t m he y. e k a t hn s u R uld lt h e t a L tr ea a w Flaub h ors. ned Ch of ld h h , t “ in n O co n kne e’s mi gh t, It is is av e lve ou g An in subtle is he ina, dog f o 8 h t Che s n th o thes of ek be y t i l k r o w th os e tm en a i s ocurs g th :1 withou no ve l. La , , r d e l l f n i r e e r p m i f E The na s, em t . b e F a de mn ed w s y u o they o ert’s hov’s e T her h stone –1, o su gg . o t ”; d. mm a a e m o bout do n ri v u r h t Cheko kh y o t s l o e t o r w f get e f i w h C tha t f na m us ed g n i l d n selv Karen he r e t ther in d r w t m i h ts u o c c a Fl au b but iè re a c ne wh o e h ov’s com irony ref wh o 5 1 d e s s o h k e remind ting fictio t s T wher r e t i ear es te d of ee d, isu d e s u to v e l e h n sin B e such he n o e wit orm. e i v teling , ar , o t f o s ’ at to a ov ar y. a munites ar e of narrator by wh o beg in is ly 1 er t , l e v ac cu se d r e t f o h du lt er their t r t n is h nal have pu b v s w e h t u r should , 0 9 8 t r u t e e h t an su ff er e a h t i w s i h t a e na se em Ch much on r e t t tor th th e a th at d , s e m e th o storie t s l o T s l o T di dn ’t h re ad y a i him n r a l c e f h t Doctor te mes e p x e adu e li c, nd r i t s , at re u o r g ri st ia n g n i d e n t s . . t c a jolies scr He beha y, whe nd ed e o t e h t ben a l Fr en a Gu is fern in g y r o Fl au be rt ’s .) G y o t dulter Em e in s ’ y o k c cl os er s e r r o t s talk lt are h f be a ib s e h t asked . N . A d e r o hi m urov vi de n co ev en Je the ers, s d n rov e to r f d n n O , n a es wer “T s i ves ch m o o ca nn ot ma e h t d e s r t s i t r te ac hi ng re L mp ly . the su s t i b Em ma ce , y gla Gu ri di cu le t i no f in he c i p o t t s a l arivière e m o w y hero o t es a has wa s fr f d e l w o n k a h t es ta bl is hm en t s e l P o t t s r i is e r n i tl y, nd to t e r t wa s a castin Yalt h k a S Bo d t m rov first by Lady o y b b a y r fo “witho in s thou usin espon e b uch h c i h w to t r o w r t Fl au be rt e m t a th ow n th Pe rh ap s ben in d n a Ph vary r e r th e ex pe ct ed o e v l o s e h t e e h c h s t a e he lp the e h t is Bo va ry s ’ n the ey f e ta ke n e sin fr om to th e r “ g n i d a , , n i l a . arise gh or g d t l u d a g with mu like a Na the o l u c i d i wa y e g ut l a u x e s s t i at ti tu de cast pa scrib t n h o i t c i f u t i t t a n o sto live ds mo if fa mi ly reso a ho ld in g t i u d a cu ck ol d the is dezh a sing me sin.” . ) v th e th rade v o h k e h C f o b a b a serial Jesu o c e b to r e nes a b : y r e t l u d a in , rh st o t s l o T o l a e j he on e as s, ey y a es y r e t l l a n difern novelist s e d rt h t Dog” y y t i l i ad ul te re ss es t u o t u B ”. s u tr ia l etoric fo r of Ma da me ve ng ef ul p teling a stone. da—Rusi about n e m n o r i v n e n i un ma sk s e sh e town, va lu es —a s had art or, b and s e m is ctual society’ fe at ur e u m s u ba ck ad efor l l i re fu si ng t r e c o t an d in o t h k e h C e h t a fo r s ’ y pr ob ab l is made in s f e ulter d r a w wa s a b s u h e r e d r ben the sim t e g d a e r t a e l c eh T “ e h t ni a a th very th e s t c e f th o or T r o t s as co n a f hin him he em flin is p te ar of o ly th e pi t th la x r r, u r y - v y t to g n n p . to ey fo t to d without much of a conscience. And he has been perceived as something of a misogynist. But, in the course of “The Lady with a Lap Dog,” this adulterer learns to love, for better or for worse. The affair begins quite casually, at least on Gurov’s part. The lady with the dog, however, behaves differently. After they first make love: “Anna Sergeevna . . . mused in a dejected attitude like ‘the woman who was a sinner’ in an old-fashioned picture.” Gurov, in contrast, cuts himself a slice of watermelon, observing her with detachment. Chekhov’s depiction of a first-time adulteress in a state of post-coital agita - tion evokes the scene in Anna Karenina describing the aftermath of Anna and Vronsky’s first lovemaking (part 2, chapter 11), in which Vronsky attempts to calm Anna, “not knowing how or why.” Tolstoy graphically represents her “fall” by having her “once proud and gay, now shame-stricken” head drop. Other details of Tolstoy’s scene make their way into Chekhov’s. Chekhov’s Anna, like Tolstoy’s, beseeches God to forgive her. Gurov’s behavior, however, is more callous, more jaded than Vronsky’s. “Gurov felt bored already, listening to her. He was irritated by the naïve tone, by this remorse, so unexpected and inopportune; but for the tears in her eyes, he might have thought she was jesting or playing a part” (Garnett trans - lation). Here Chekhov seems to echo a famous moment in Madame Bovary when Emma’s lover concludes that Emma is like all his mistresses because she used the same trite phrases. But the narrator pipes in to bemoan the fact that although her language may be hackneyed, this does not mean that her emotions are. This is a key moment in the book. Here Flaubert allows as how Emma, vulgar and trite as she is, may have some genuine need and yearning for love. Possibly, she is worthy of compassion after all. Flaubert then goes on to bemoan the fact that human language is “like a cracked cauldron” on which we beat out tunes to set a bear dancing, whereas what we would want our language to do is make the stars take pity on us. Maybe, suggests Flaubert, the fault lies in our expression. Chekhov, in the next scene, moves Gurov and the lady with the dog to a bench overlooking the sea, “not far from the church.” Here, the narrator uses his full powers of expression in a glorious way. In a subtle shift, he moves from them watching the sight of the sea to including us: The leaves did not stir on the trees, grasshoppers chirruped, and the monotonous hollow sound of the sea rising up from below, spoke of the peace, of the eternal sleep awaiting us. So it must have sounded when there was no Yalta, no Oreanda here; so it sounds now, and it will sound as indifferently and monotonously when we are no more. And in this constancy, in this complete indifference to the life and death of each of us, there lies hid, perhaps, a pledge of our eternal salvation, of the unceasing movement of life upon earth. . . . (Garnett translation) In the rest of the paragraph, some of what the narrator has just conveyed seems to start to infiltrate the consciousness of Gurov. Gurov goes back to his life in Moscow—his wife, his children, his club, but finds himself thinking about Anna Sergeevna. This is not unlike what happens

85 LECTURE THIRTEEN 8 6 f t “ i w a t r e s o n f t f a l f o h t ch o Eve co r j t m o u re he ir e al o s ’ r o e c a t a h A i Pe Th H r o t ed n l f i f h re ve s ri st pr i a m s i , e r e hi you Kash e m l a e r en ty. man n l i a i n w ci T se u o a A tr o . m a i li s nge r mp n ad y end ntu s e g e . d t mse esi ha yo nd f tu o n n l t . fro fe an he nd hi a sm ime g, , t s n o c os e h “co s n d n e te kno e th e sou . T she y r o up th y t re m o u t ps T he al s se in h C he m h t t as th en w ta it t o f sible no ng, . of sto la ti a e h of e h o b hat es mpa lf als c ly m a to n i so in or wn he He s nds re An nka ns” s re ‘this ased om p him t h k e acou stor in wrot u r t his i the ee m e r f i o r on ) Gu t ry t i w l nt th at w e h c i h w make his d far not r mu le na we b is t c a in th s ’ me re sion goe er f a f egin o is to r whe ies ft orm h rov kind in li e e int seao situa ath n e re e in alit h t v g ed love ca te d n fr lif ch?” up S for th e ew ta re oga b en nt ano y a r o of om the mir s s l olera r t t a e.” er Ch l u f i t u a e like ar er lkin us y. er on s ent r cogn n t s t a e as g n i r i f to de ea o y e h y f o ge love, Cheko . e v o l tion an h e or a tion ro f with sh ekh the s r i a h f It like At beg con ns, owner st il l o ly h o[s] t se g lize his an th ou gh in evna e n he r, d ble s d l ear mig t . e ndi ize. his ew . to a e r a conlusive, r, thi e v o l ek ( ov, sp le nd id d se or u q s tex in o In is bo Peva the ye s ha d a h W g asu his mo s r bond s e h t be di ff i ng ht o r p t radu de th life . acou s e l i m i out ma with s. he m ut arnig when v . u h ing we po s Just d a s ’ t a a at end . m of ri erly in in a be a sig And cu lt e v the d n their r . n a b s mption ried tune, in [Ana cquaint e d a e ake Ana are age. al r he lo n to n wher rep d n a , “Th a the wilde t, nals ed a o t t s i d it nt, b t a e d li fe of one’s h t r gr li tt le pa rt with nd G egn we de efor g, is the is not positn e d the e b woman ’ t a we ay ciru Crime r urov ated t o n and the ” e ’s], y l t c n i wo ul d lead sperat Serg lo ng rmen Rusia th a a Vo tha l i t n u h tha Bu ance find er k o v e wh o t d n inform o n e in dr he subject is say, very bre f à e lokhnsy stil acoun th t s in ration and amtic t it unde in but il e his n e v stor a l . e f i w the Wo ro ad e sto tune t. e h t this tra e h C h g u an wa s , ath g e par ely be g with an so n and e th e r a daring She vna; hair s u a ation r i e h t iner ver d y ries fade nd nd aut a Point rstand d e , ticular lf se a i v o h k in fo do of th be fo re r o f Pun in ; wa T es is ju st t , d n r e s his so lu ti on b ones: y a no , t a h pro of they r of hor at no rial winte they and y uble and a ought u : rm slight an d An o l ne like h C tha tra s u o i tes nfamil t i ishm what t an grad a h c i h w new tes Virg be gi nn in g. he ced of , e v s a has w, s i o h those n man’s and s ’ v o h k e nslatio) part d fro dulter finds th em , a. resu tha life, in, View” his r th it sto they th s i n i ina , r e v e w ale d n a hite . s s e n l l i ual ent to su remin sto wo ul d wa s m e mean Signfcatly, e writen t to for h t e h t lovey, a e r own ry, and den fo co h me rt he r th op : ry—but last her tran e er Wo is wen fra gradu an h t lowing an d rto se tha exampl, nclude er cl ea r h s d y a w en-d ders e c a f e t y r o t s lo t a . “real” w s their e (G ar ne tt me met, d be s i olf nse th ly siton e h T Why note ves ho comp they t s a cathes himself the o v e th at sudenly but “ou oughts h t on reminds fo un d, had h t a e d a to f o of l had : ou e :s w o l l o f of afir “for s s ’ a e s life in renw crit e k end r talk di . g n i l l prob a bo th ca th e ar r a n his a e d from lety whic r dnes: first lite this nd in a the pre n o n a mar an - th - into sh . si co mo sigh r a m ht ab b in - e h T d d - o - - e e ind n t u - n ly h r - ll - e e t - complete the harmony. (“The Russian Point of View,” The Common Reader )

In the last notes of hope, Chekhov completed the harmony. Translations Constance Garnett’s translations were used for both “Peasants” and “Lady with a Dog.” These two stories appear together in The Chekhov Omnibus: Selected Stories (North Clarendon, VT: Tuttle Publishing, 1986). Garnett’s translations for these stories also appears on the Web at the University of Adelaide (South Australia) Library: http://etext.library.adelaide.edu.au/c/chekhov/anton/

87 FOR GREATER UNDERSTANDING

Questions

1. How does Chekhov de-romanticize peasant life? 2. What is his attitude to faith? 3. How does Chekhov’s narrator (or Chekhov) respond to Anna? To Gurov?

Suggested Reading

Chekhov, Anton P. The Chekhov Omnibus: Selected Stories. Trans. Constance Garnett. North Clarendon, VT: Tuttle Publishing, 1986.

Other Books of Interest

De Sherbinin, Julie. Chekhov and Russian Religious Culture: The Poetics of the Marian Paradigm . Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press, 1997. Mathewson, Rufus W., Jr. “Intimations of Mortality.” Anton Chekhov’s Short Stories. Ed. Cathy Popkin. Norton Critical Edition. 2nd ed. New York: W.W. Norton, 2006. West, Cornel. “To Be Human, Modern and American” and “Chekhov, Coltrane and Democracy.” The Cornel West Reader. Pp. xv–xx and 551–564. New York: Basic Civitas Books, 1999.

Film

The Lady with the Dog. Directed by Joseph Heifetz. Starring Iya Savvina and Aleksey Batalov. Moscow: Lenfilm Studio, 1962. Vanya on 42nd Street. Directed by Louis Malle. Culver City, CA: Sony Pictures, 1994. N E E T R I H T E R U T C E L

88 Lecture 14: Love and Death and the Russian Point of View

The Suggested Reading for this lecture is Virginia Woolf’s “The Russian Point of View” in The Common Reader.

In “From the Russian Point of View,” Virginia Woolf introduces the following snippet from a work of literature: Learn to make yourselves akin to people. I would even like to add: make yourself indispensable to them. But let this sympathy be not with the mind—for it is easy with the mind—but with the heart, with love towards them. ( The Common Reader, p. 174)

According to Woolf, a reader would take one look at that sentence and “instantly” declare “From the Russian . . .” What makes it seem so typically Russian? Woolf answers: The simplicity, the absence of effort, the assumption that in a world bursting with misery the chief call upon us is to understand our fellow- sufferers, “and not with the mind—for it is easy with the mind—but with the heart”—this is the cloud which broods above the whole of Russian literature, which lures us from our own parched brilliancy and scorched thoroughfares to expand in its shade—and of course with disastrous results . . . Although certainly not all Russian literature complies, it would be fairly safe to say that Virginia Woolf has put her finger on one of the key concerns of Russian literature, one which, in her view, makes it stand out from the English literature of Woolf’s time. And here, we should remember that the face of literature has changed since then. And one factor that has changed it is the fact that the Russian classics are now part of the reading fare of English-speaking readers, thanks to the brilliant work of generations of trans - lators, who—in part through the encouragement of literary figures like Virginia Woolf—set about to make what Russians wrote available. I’d say that readers in the English-speaking world have embraced these features of the Russian novel, assimilated them, and to a degree made them their own. The extent to which Russian classics have infiltrated our literary—and cultural—scene can be seen from something like Woody Allen’s Love and Death. I want to return, however, to these questions. Based on Woolf’s example of a “generic” passage from Russian literature and her ensuing explanation, it would seem that Russian literature does in fact specialize in a certain form of love: It’s compassion, which is felt because human beings feel some solidarity with their “fellow-sufferers.” Virginia Woolf also suggests that those nineteenth-century Russians seem to think the world is full of misery. What they had to go on is,

89 LECTURE FOURTEEN 9 0 T e t b st h f l co d f o ( Wh n m m f ch p t t a l t R o so p o h t p co o h t w e f n on t our o o here ol or or act he hi o he ha or so Wh Al L Vi l e e e n e l n o ft a l ft e xp o ha u o s ru ve ot ve ot e a b o d m n a , u e li w e e e in ve a vel. be m m sia ul th r some lut n y t sup the i t at ve neat se , g —or nge r eri gi t is g n n n ,” t f doma progres t’ ha p t eth to b ts tsh act sex s u d o th pl pl . hav w s mo up n as io y be as is wa b g la i to i t ug e But li n o t s in ots. er ots Wo he ia e Al wh o t n et et ro m n n i nce a d er ur s ter f m sio i p stil sim ose f yon re th new t on tra g s h rn e e the hor nd doe tho con we love he n ma W l of o th in n orig at evel er to plot lo olf at the twin ovels ) do, just like to it’s am be l ed n n variet nslate o e s th ila o ve untol d than en d ugh la se? nove of Rusia er, ntic b lo sn’t te th withn fo f incor . b en s is co in e e rge the on to r , ted lf o works p the ne ed osely (th inc e T xt. Chek oma e a the r) fo t not f al osible ot th wh saying he sem urt he s t g Wha do? singl a much th y fr liter d r m ig ypical An e ls som e her e with An dr is mo re im ont lite por niet o th bec fa e ship sexy en misery. hbo ake our sp co ntic the co n the evr way ne’s am na? main in po ose ar ctor p da d o ra dels And t ov’s no e ed che ecialty ver ate nsta lote t wil f ause y lo in he d rly th rta th busi time ly ng “L the en niet f o o p lite oe ve ywher or Fr ve scen t Sh felow ose r th s to lo t at ed in ent he o th ove ek. (but hat t n e love. dep cirus so t f nt he tha d sexua ench ut l s ratu he t of In rom er com t rs e th-ce ness wor ould aso of her we and se (as its of acoun to a th questio of their works We case for that the explor difer lite rs. o enth- one end word no God. tradion e T do wo Ana f ld def pasion man, since h e the Who , “ en th. “mar urgenev, novel. dr pro tu su ntury ciate Yakov ray l ave here. t man th same ha we n’t g love. respect, rks alwys) gae rnig in kind ive an large er fering o centur We Westr used ts ed we ve wher nt iton n h a other does er” read ha Karen for trad then iage m in bum its a round of Rusian b But al kin may Rusian, se difer of (Playing ha ment ha ake ly eing ve ge love bo plot new the English on “d plots. of h itons typical y en Dostoevsky, ds no-se ve . on of ve ,” etro folws ps then, marke certainly is it n r on this anger e’s ina, T con k. ead s lo wel novelistc oth b in Rothscild? oth posed he o wor in volatie ki t se how r with ve nt to int ut hougt f ead, Ana the clude? nd n tex, new Rusia It display. er nove love en sexual a ers novels o eighbor wi kin beco the it a ld, be was novels) ous xual nd t”) does. ’s who of th chek new deat some a l for role a ds this t re we have not or mo e mission be the Kareni read kind ok perha into l l mixes. n ove me lia to widen an gards this Shou lo lo umber or o Tolstoy, h of thro her pairn fo to, re can’t consid of love f ison.” But as ve? st , We expctaion take d of of on one er lovin and and rms sto fo or o th Shoul to with va Virg kind stor ps Kash e, f ughot easy rmulaic, th e ld the re ed r or love whe for th ry-wo The do a T the riets espond remains. of g. deny to e two a he of ult the o we his g Le es y e th ina is the th dulte f to of master This neigh a ad re one’s d Much with tank, b relations, imately semd art. ou at r nar definto at vin nd as a in Rusian e e have is Raskolni d ad include for love rthy ulters). Rusian that mod Wolf, case filtraes. r their not the sure, it of inovate ry C al no much We ultery love authors ms, would us? for do bor hekhov tive “ has to lovin plots plot t other near what the tha. in plo for els, be esn’t to cultr mor a in ha trea the An wa to ten (fe the som in wh ts no and lo all or im a case g ve n be o d, s s e an e ve d is v t , ply v ich fer l - s e - e d - , The other feature of the Russian novel is death. Whether reminders of death appear more often per page, per narrative life, or not, is open to question. (Leslie Fiedler has argued that the American novel, although squeamish about adult heterosexual sex, is all about death.) The Russians, however, seem to compete. At least, that is the consensus. E.M. Forster, in Aspects of the Novel, points out that it’s very hard to “know” death, because the dying organism lacks the capacity for communicating the truth about death in a form of communication that the living can comprehend. All that is true, but the Russians we’ve read did their best to give us some sense of this. As you know, Dostoevsky felt that his experience of being prepared for a firing squad (in 1849) had some profound effect. But narrating death itself isn’t what is most important about the treatment of death. What these writers do is remind us of how, in the face of death, whether because death is staring us in the face (Bazarov’s perception that death is an old joke that seems new when you’re the one) or simply because we notice a gray hair (Gurov in the mirror at the end of “Lady with the Dog”), we may love differently. This explains the link between “Love” and “Death.”

91 FOR GREATER UNDERSTANDING

Questions

1. What features does Virginia Woolf single out as being typical of the “Russian point of view”? 2. What are some of the typical “boy-meets-girl” scenarios in literature? How do the Russian works we have read diverge? 3. What means do the Russian authors use to draw attention to death, a sub - ject that is ultimately beyond their descriptive powers?

Suggested Reading

Woolf, Virginia. The Common Reader. New York: Harvest Books, 2002.

Other Books of Interest

Many novelists, short-story writers, playwrights, and poets have acknowl - edged a profound debt to the Russian giants. The novels and stories listed as suggested reading below were written with Turgenev, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, or Chekhov in mind. In some cases, they respond directly to a particular work; in other cases, the influence of one or more of the Russian giants may be beneath the surface. Carver, Raymond. “The Errand.” Where I’m Calling From: Selected Stories. New York: Vintage, 1989. Coetzee, J.M. The Master of Petersburg: A Novel. Penguin, 1995. Cruz, Nilo. Anna in the Tropics: A Play in Two Acts. New York: Dramatists’ Play Service, Inc., 2004. Ellison, Ralph. The Invisible Man. New York: Vintage, 1995. Lawrence, D.H. Lady Chatterley’s Lover. New York: Penguin, 1995. McCartney, Sharon. Karenin Sings the Blues. (Poetry). Fredericton, NB: Goose Lane Editions, 2003. Oates, Joyce Carol. “The Lady with the Pet Dog.” High Lonesome: New and Selected Stories. New York: Ecco, 2006. Trevor, William. “Reading Turgenev.” Two Lives. New York: Penguin, 1992. N

E Tsypkin, Leonid. Summer in Baden-Baden. Trans. Angela and Roger Keys. E

T Intro. Susan Sontag. New York: New Directions, 2001. R U O F E R U T C E L

92 COURSE MATERIALS