History: This book was first published in 1842, and widely regarded as an exemplar
of 19th-century Russian literature. Gogol himself saw it as an "epic poem in prose", and within the book as a "novel in verse". Despite supposedly completing the
trilogy's second part, Gogol destroyed it shortly before his death. Although
the novel ends in mid-sentence (like Sterne's Sentimental Journey), it is usually regarded as complete in the extant form. Plot: The story follows the exploits of
Chichikov, a gentleman of middling social class and position. Chichikov arrives
in a small town and quickly tries to make a good name for himself by impressing
the many petty officials of the town. Despite his limited funds, he spends
extravagantly on the premise that a great show of wealth and power at the start
will gain him the connections he needs to live easily in the future. He also
hopes to befriend the town so that he can more easily carry out his bizarre and
mysterious plan to acquire "dead souls." The government would tax the landowners
on a regular basis, with the assessment based
on how many serfs (or "souls") the landowner had on their records at
the time of the collection. These records were determined by census, but censuses in this period were
infrequent, far more so than the tax collection, so landowners would often find
themselves in the position of paying taxes on serfs that were no longer living,
yet were registered on the census to them, thus they were paying on "dead
souls." It is these dead souls, manifested as property, that Chichikov
seeks to purchase from people in the villages he visits; he merely tells the
prospective sellers that he has a use for them, and that the sellers would be
better off anyway, since selling them would relieve the present owners of a
needless tax burden. Although the
townspeople Chichikov comes across are gross caricatures, they are not flat
stereotypes by any means. Instead, each is neurotically individual, combining
the official failings that Gogol typically satirizes (greed, corruption,
paranoia) with a curious set of personal quirks. Chichikov's macabre mission to acquire
"dead souls" is actually just another complicated scheme to inflate
his social standing (essentially a 19th century Russian version of the
ever-popular "get rich quick"
scheme). He hopes to collect the legal ownership rights to dead serfs as a way of
inflating his apparent wealth and power. Once he acquires enough dead souls, he
will retire to a large farm and take out an enormous loan against them,
finally acquiring the great wealth he desires.
Setting off for the surrounding estates, Chichikov at first assumes that
the ignorant provincials will be more than eager to give their dead souls up in
exchange for a token payment. The task of collecting the rights to dead people
proves difficult, however, due to the persistent greed, suspicion, and general
distrust of the landowners. He still manages to acquire some 400 souls, and
returns to the town to have the transactions recorded legally. Back in the town, Chichikov continues to be
treated like a prince amongst the petty officials, and a celebration is thrown
in honour of his purchases. Very suddenly, however, rumours flare up that the
serfs he bought are all dead, and that he was planning to elope with the
Governor's daughter. In the confusion that ensues, the backwardness of the
irrational, gossip-hungry townspeople is most delicately conveyed. Absurd
suggestions come to light, such as the possibility that Chichikov is Napoleon
in disguise or the notorious and retired 'Captain Kopeikin,' who had lost an
arm and a leg during a war. The now disgraced traveller is immediately
ostracized from the company he had been enjoying and has no choice but to flee
the town in disgrace.
Review:
It could be described as a linguistic phantasmagoria - full of people
and things with a hallucinatory reality that rushes into the surreal. Nabokov,
in a great, dogmatic essay on it, saw the book as a phenomenon of a peculiar
"life-generating syntax", in which Gogol's sentences called up a
world which could be capriciously developed or abandoned. Gogol called Dead
Souls a "poem", and in some ways the English work it is nearest to is
The Canterbury Tales, where rhyme and rhythm add to, even create, the
satisfactory unexpectedness of the detail of people and things. Gogol also resembles Dickens in the way in
which everything he started to imagine transformed itself and began to wriggle
with life. This is hard to assess in translation, but Robert Maguire has made a
text which corresponds to Nabokov's excitement - from the moment when we meet
Chichikov, "not overly fat, not overly thin" entering his room in a
hostelry, "with cockroaches peeping out like prunes from every
corner". He is accompanied by his servant Petruska, who brought in with
his greatcoat "a special odour all his own that had also been imparted to
the next thing he brought in, a sack containing the sundries of a manservant's
toilet". I admire the way in which Maguire has kept his own brilliantly
variegated vocabulary away from 20th-century phrases, without ever looking
parodic or antiquarian. The title, Dead
Souls, must be one of the most evocative titles ever. It is to do on a
superficial level (and superficies matter in this text) with the possibility in
Tsarist Russia of owning "souls", which is how the ownership of serfs
is described. Landowners were taxed on their payroll of serfs, which included
those who had died between tax-assessments.
Chichikov has formed the plan of
buying the dead souls of various landowners in order to use his list of fictive
slaves to buy real land to "resettle" them and to become a landowner
himself. Chichikov himself is also of course, a dead soul, a man self-designed
to be unremarkable, agreeable and acceptable, a smiling confidence-trickster
whose plots, as Nabokov points out, are neither very clever nor very coherent.
Gogol wrote an ironic apostrophe to the unpraised writer who observes "the
dreadful appalling mass of trifles that mires our lives, all that lies deep
inside the cold, fragmented quotidian characters with which our earthly, at
times bitter and tedious path swarms..." "Equally wondrous", he
claims, "are the lenses that survey suns, and those that convey the
movements of imperceptible insects."
Opening Line: “To
the door of an inn in the provincial town of N. there drew up a smart
britchka--a light spring-carriage of the sort affected by bachelors, retired
lieutenant-colonels, staff-captains, land-owners possessed of about a hundred
souls, and, in short, all persons who rank as gentlemen of the intermediate
category. “
Closing
Line: I invite those men to remember the duty which
confronts us, whatsoever our respective stations; I invite them to observe more
closely their duty, and to
keep more constantly in mind their obligations of holding true to their country, in that before us the future looms dark, and that we can scarcely. . ."
keep more constantly in mind their obligations of holding true to their country, in that before us the future looms dark, and that we can scarcely. . ."
Quotes: “There
are people that exist on this earth not as objects in themselves, but as
extraneous specks or tiny spots on objects. They sit in the same place, they
hold their heads in the same way and you are almost ready to take them for a
piece of furniture..."
Rating: Horrible.
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