Essays on Russian Novelists | Page 2

Russians feel him, in any such measure
as the Germans succeeded with Shakespeare, as Bayard Taylor with
Goethe, as Ludwig Fulda with Rostand. The translations of Pushkin
and of Lermontov have never impressed foreign readers in the
superlative degree. The glory of English literature is its poetry; the
glory of Russian literature is its prose fiction.
*Arnold told Sainte-Beuve that he did not think Lamartine was
"important." Sainte-Beuve answered, "He is important for us."
Pushkin was, for a time at any rate, a Romantic, largely influenced, as

all the world was then, by Byron. He is full of sentiment, smiles and
tears, and passionate enthusiasms. He therefore struck out in a path in
which he has had no great followers; for the big men in Russian
literature are all Realists. Romanticism is as foreign to the spirit of
Russian Realism as it is to French Classicism. What is peculiarly
Slavonic about Pushkin is his simplicity, his naivete. Though affected
by foreign models, he was close to the soil. This is shown particularly
in his prose tales, and it is here that his title as Founder of Russian
Literature is most clearly demonstrated. He took Russia away from the
artificiality of the eighteenth century, and exhibited the possibilities of
native material in the native tongue.
The founder of the mighty school of Russian Realism was Gogol.
Filled with enthusiasm for Pushkin, he nevertheless took a different
course, and became Russia's first great novelist. Furthermore, although
a melancholy man, he is the only Russian humorist who has made the
world laugh out loud. Humour is not a salient quality in Russian fiction.
Then came the brilliant follower of Gogol, Ivan Turgenev. In him
Russian literary art reached its climax, and the art of the modern novel
as well. He is not only the greatest master of prose style that Russia has
ever produced; he is the only Russian who has shown genius in
Construction. Perhaps no novels in any language have shown the
impeccable beauty of form attained in the works of Turgenev. George
Moore queries, "Is not Turgenev the greatest artist that has existed
since antiquity?"
Dostoevski, seven years older than Tolstoi, and three years younger
than Turgenev, was not so much a Realist as a Naturalist; his chief
interest was in the psychological processes of the unclassed. His
foreign fame is constantly growing brighter, for his works have an
extraordinary vitality. Finally appeared Leo Tolstoi, whose literary
career extended nearly sixty years. During the last twenty years of his
life, he was generally regarded as the world's greatest living author; his
books enjoyed an enormous circulation, and he probably influenced
more individuals by his pen than any other man of his time.
In the novels of Gogol, Turgenev, Dostoevski, and Tolstoi we ought to
find all the prominent traits in the Russian character.
It is a rather curious thing, that Russia, which has never had a
parliamentary government, and where political history has been very

little influenced by the spoken word, should have so much finer an
instrument of expression than England, where matters of the greatest
importance have been settled by open and public speech for nearly
three hundred years. One would think that the constant use of the
language in the national forum for purposes of argument and
persuasion would help to make it flexible and subtle; and that the
almost total absence of such employment would tend toward
narrowness and rigidity. In this instance exactly the contrary is the case.
If we may trust the testimony of those who know, we are forced to the
conclusion that the English language, compared with the Russian, is
nothing but an awkward dialect. Compared with Russian, the English
language is decidedly weak in synonyms, and in the various shades of
meaning that make for precision. Indeed, with the exception of Polish,
Russian is probably the greatest language in the world, in richness,
variety, definiteness, and elegance. It is also capable of saying much in
little, and saying it with tremendous force. In Turgenev's "Torrents of
Spring," where the reader hears constantly phrases in Italian, French,
and German, it will be remembered that the ladies ask Sanin to sing
something in his mother tongue. "The ladies praised his voice and the
music, but were more struck with the softness and sonorousness of the
Russian language." I remember being similarly affected years ago when
I heard "King Lear" read aloud in Russian. Baron von der Bruggen
says,* "there is the wonderful wealth of the language, which, as a
popular tongue, is more flexible, more expressive of thought than any
other living tongue I know of." No one has paid a better tribute than
Gogol:--
"The Russian people express themselves forcibly; and if they once
bestow an epithet upon a person, it will descend to