The World's Greatest Books [Volumes 1-15, 17-20]

IVAN TURGENEV

Fathers and Sons

Among the great critics and great artists of every period, Ivan Sergeyvitch Turgenev occupies a supreme position. He was born at Oriel in the Government of the same name, on November 9, 1818, and died on September 3, 1883. His father was a colonel in a cavalry regiment, and an ancestor was a James Turgenev who was one of Peter the Great's jesters. Educated at Moscow, St Petersburg, and Berlin, Ivan Turgenev began life in a government office, but after a year retired into private life. His early attempts at literature consisted chiefly of poems and sketches, none of which attracted any degree of attention; and it was not until about 1847, upon the appearance of "A Sportsman's Sketches"--a series of stories depicting with startling realism the condition of the Russian peasant, that his name became known. About 1860 Ivan Turgenev, in common with many of the Russian writers of the period, found himself being carried away towards the study of social reform. In 1861 he produced "Fathers and Sons" ("Otzi i Dieti"), a story that stirred up a storm the suddenness of which is difficult to imagine in the light of recent events. Yet, curiously enough, Turgenev, ardent Liberal though he was, had no political motive whatsoever in view in writing his novel, his purpose simply being the delineation of certain types which were then, for good or for bad, making themselves a force in his country. The figure of Bazaroff, in regard to whom Turgenev gave a new interpretation of the word "nihilist," possesses few of the revolutionary ideas that are now generally associated with his kind. Young Russia greatly objected to the picture, and the author, who so far had been hailed as a champion of liberty, was now looked on as a reactionist. To the end, however, Turgenev persisted that Bazaroff represented a type as he saw it, and the portrait was neither a caricature nor entirely a product of the imagination.

I.--The Old and the New

Arkady had come home, a full-blown graduate from the University at Petersburg, and as his father, Nikolai Petrovitch pressed his lips to his beardless, dusky, sunburnt cheek, he was beside himself with delight. Even his uncle, Pavel Petrovitch--once a famous figure in Russian society, and now, in spite of his dandy habits and dandy dress, living with his brother on the latter's estate in the heart of the country--showed some emotion. And Arkady, too, though he endeavoured to stifle his feelings as became a superior young man who had risen above the prejudices of the older generation, could not conceal the pleasure he felt.

Arkady had brought back with him his great friend, Bazaroff, a tall man, long and lean, with a broad forehead, a nose flat at the base and sharper at the end, large greenish eyes, and drooping whiskers of a sandy colour--a face which was lighted up by a tranquil smile and showed self-confidence and intelligence. Bazaroff alone seemed supremely indifferent to the atmosphere of pleasure which pervaded his friend's home-coming. As the two young men left the room, Pavel Petrovitch turned to his brother with a slightly questioning look on his clear-cut, clean-shaved, refined face.

"Who is he?" he asked.

"A friend of Arkady's; according to him, a very clever fellow."

"Is he going to stay with us?"

"Yes."

"That unkempt creature?"

"Why, yes."

Pavel Petrovitch drummed with his finger-tips on the table. "I fancy Arkady s'est dégourdé," he remarked. "I am glad he has come back."

"Your uncle's a queer fish," Bazaroff remarked to Arkady, in the seclusion of their room; "only fancy such style in the country! His nails, his nails--you ought to send them to an exhibition! And as to his chin, it's shaved simply to perfection. Now, come, Arkady, isn't he rather ridiculous?"

"Perhaps he is," replied Arkady; "but he's a splendid man, really."

"An antique survival! But your father's a capital fellow. He wastes his time reading poetry, and doesn't know much about farming, but he's a good-hearted fellow."

"My father's a man in a thousand."

"Did you notice how shy and nervous he is?"

Arkady shook his head, as though he himself were not shy and nervous.

"It's something astonishing," pursued Bazaroff, "these old idealists, they develop their nervous systems till they break down... so balance is lost.... In my room there's an English wash-stand, but the door won't fasten. Anyway, that ought to be encouraged--an English wash-stand stands for progress."