Tausend Seelen. Roman in Vier Theilen/Aus Dem Russischen Übertragen

Tausend Seelen. Roman in vier Theilen von ALEXIS PISEMSKI. Aus dem Rüssischen übertragen von DR. L. KAYSSLER. [A Thousand Souls. A Romance in Four Parts by Alexis Pisemski. Translated from the Russian by Dr. L. Kayssler.] Berlin. 1870.

To many readers of fiction the Russian novelists may be still unfamiliar ; but now that the siege of Paris is depriving us of French books, it may be a suitable time to mention another source of amusement to those who weary of the dull monotony or vulgar excitement of many English novels.

It may seem as if Russia offered an even more barren field to the novelist than our own country, to which, by the way, it bears some likeness, with its long winters, hot summers, wooden houses, and more especially in the provincial relation the country holds to the rest of Europe in regard to all intellectual matters. But the reader who has once accustomed himself to the unusual and to us uncouth names, and who has learned the meaning of the few Russian words that still linger in the text, will find the other circumstances of these novels full of interest.

Tourguénieff is the best known of the modern Russian writers, and justly so. Of his works there have already appeared in English, “Smoke” in England, and “Fathers and Sons in America,” the last translated by Colonel Eugene Schuyler. One or two of his shorter tales have been printed in different magazines. The French translations are now, owing to the war, hard to get, and some of them are out of print, but a German translation, made under the author’s supervision, and the accuracy of which he himself warrants, is now publishing at Mitau, Of this three or four volumes have already appeared. The translation deserves praise for elegance as well as accuracy ; in fact, it is probably elegant because it is so accurate, for Tourguénieff is a most finished writer. Although to read him we must accustom ourselves to a society very different from our own, there are few, we think, who will find the new surroundings uncomfortably strange. Much more depends upon the author than upon the subject, and we soon accustom ourselves to the novelty, under the charm of the simple, tender beauty of his tales, the calm force of his humor, and the perfection of his style, which place him at the head of living novelists. His characters impress themselves upon our imaginations as if they were people we had known. It would be hard to find more delicate, fascinating love-stories than his, or studies marked by a keener poetical insight into human nature. It is this poetical quality which mainly distinguishes him from the stern realism of another Russian novelist to whom we desire to call attention ; for Tourguénieff is not the only modern Russian novelist whose works are accessible to us in translations.

There has been lately published at Berlin an excellent German version of a story, whose title we have given above, by Alexis Pisemski,—a writer well known in Russia through his comedies and novels.

The story at its opening represents a father, Peter Michailovitch Godnief, an inspector of schools, living in a small village with his motherless daughter, a girl of twenty. He is a weak, good-natured man, inclined to let matters take their own course. He resigns and is succeeded by the hero of the novel, Kalinovitch, a young man who has just finished his education, and has accepted this place in the civil service. He is cold, ambitious, and rigidly exact in the execution of his own duty and in what he demands of others. He becomes intimate in the house of Godnief, and falls in love with his daughter Nasteuka. He seeks other friends in the village, but finds the people too boorish, and is treated with coolness by a noble family when they discover the humble position that he fills. He does not content himself with its slight duties, but has already written a novel, which is rejected by the editors to whom he had sent it. Godnief, however, sends it to an influential friend of his in St. Petersburg, an old schoolmate, with a request to get it published, and soon Kalinovitch is gratified by seeing it appear in a magazine. Here ends the first part. The second opens a few weeks later, and introduces a prince, a cousin of the noble family mentioned above. He is a cunning, speculating man of the world, who sees in Kalinovitch a fitting husband for his rich cousin, who is mortally weary of her dull life and of her slavery to her miserly mother. Kalinovitch is invited to the house, is flattered into forgetfulness of their former incivility, and tastes the elegance and comfort which contrast so sharply with his own meagre belongings. He is also invited to spend a month at the Prince’s house, that he may become more intimate with the rich cousin, Pauline. Instead of falling in love with her, he is struck with the beauty of the Prince’s daughter ; and when the father suggests his marriage with Pauline, he rejects the offer and returns to the village, but not to stay there. He determines to go to St. Petersburg to try his hand at literature. The third part presents him to us at the capital, where he soon has his eyes opened to his many illusions. He finds himself unknown, although he was the lion of his village ; and learns that his novel had been published, not for its own merits, but through the influence of the friend of Godnief. The managing editor of the magazine, an old friend of his, dying in deep poverty, tells him this, and solemnly warns him against literature. He seeks a place in the civil service, but can get none that will support him. In addition to all this he becomes sick, and Nasteuka, hearing of his wretched plight, joins him in St. Petersburg, bringing him two thousand rubles. This money comes to an end, he knows not which way to turn, and in despair he tells the Prince he is willing to marry Pauline, the heiress, the owner of the thousand serfs. He tears himself from Nasteuka and sells himself to this rich marriage. He is, of course, utterly miserable; he hates his wife and she hates him. He is appointed vice-governor of one of the departments, where he distinguishes himself, and wins many enemies by his zeal and scrupulous integrity. He ousts the inefficient governor, detects the Prince in some dishonesty and has him arrested. Pauline, who has always loved the Prince, runs away from her husband. At this moment Nasteuka, who has become a great actress, visits the town, and Kalinovitch renews his former relations with her. The Prince escapes from prison, and is powerful enough, with the aid supplied him by the hatred which Pauline and the offended nobles bear against Kalinovitch, to have him removed from his post and tried for malfeasance in office. Here the story ends ; we are briefly told that he marries Nasteuka and passes his sour old age in Moscow.

This bare analysis can give no just idea of the interest of the story. Nasteuka’s unflinching devotion is contrasted with Kalinovitch’s love, sincere, it is true, but subordinate to his ambition. We are admitted to examine his whole conduct, the temptations and reasonings which control him, with a sharpness with which we should hardly dare to look at our own hearts. The simplicity of the village life, the pride of the aristocracy, the corruption of society, are painted with a merciless hand. The exposition of the civil service and its workings shows that, however little there may be in the artificial sympathy between Russia and this country, a similarity in the faults of both gives us at least one trait in common.