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The Inspector-General. Nikolai GogolЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Inspector-General - Nikolai Gogol


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now going out of fashion. It was felt that the mania for adaptation from the French had been rather overdone. Even as early as 1823 Griboyedov had raised a protest. He satirised the inordinate and slavish Francophilism of the age in a powerful play. Gore ot Uma (Wit comes to Grief). Krilov, the fabulist, also contributed to this reaction by producing some genuine Russian work, though on different lines. Sixty-eight years old in 1836, he was at the height of his popularity, and had not ceased issuing his immortal series of Fables[1]. Another prominent litterateur was Zhukovski, then aged fifty- three. He is best known to the outside world as the author of the national anthem, Bozhe Tsarya Khrani (God save the Tsar). Of Gogol's more immediate contemporaries, some half-dozen have achieved European fame. Pushkin, the poet, and Lermontov, the novelist, were thirty-seven and twenty-two years old respectively when the Revizor first came out. They were both destined for the same fate—to be killed in duels by Frenchmen, the former in 1837, and Lermontov four years later. Other well-known names, are those of Turgeniev (1818-1883) and Dostoyevski (1821-1881), the famous pair of novelists. More celebrated than all is, perhaps, Count Lyof Tolstoy (born in 1828), but he belongs rather to a subsequent generation. Gogol's own age at the date of the Inspector-General was twenty-seven, as he was born in the same year as Tennyson and Gladstone.

      In his later years Gogol became a confirmed hypochondriac. He entertained mystical views on religious and social subjects, and abjured his former productions. A fit of depression impelled him to burn the manuscript of the second part of Dead Souls. As a result, the book only exists in an incomplete form, with considerable gaps filled up from a rough draft found after his death. In 1846 Gogol went on a pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem, the Mecca of the Orthodox. Eventually he returned to Moscow, and lived on the hospitality of his friends. He passed from house to house, with a bag full of newspaper extracts and criticisms in which his works were unfavourably reviewed. Outliving his literary productiveness by some years, he died at the early age of forty-three on March 3rd, 1852.

      Those who personally knew Gogol in the forties describe him as an awkward and badly-dressed little man, with a sidelong gait, extremely shy and uncommunicative, except in the society of children and his intimate friends. A large nose and a huge lock of hair falling over his right eyebrow gave him a somewhat eccentric appearance. It is not recorded that he was ever in love, and he died unmarried.

      The Inspector-General, like Dead Souls, is now firmly established as a Russian classic. An enthusiastic critic, Dudishkin, has gone so far as to lay down his opinion that "Russia possesses only one comedy—The Revizor—which quite fulfils the requirements of dramatic art." Representations of the play are given from time to time, especially at the Alexandrovski Theatre at St. Petersburg. Jubilee celebrations were held in 1886 in the two capitals. Matters were different, however, fifty years earlier. Difficulties were thrown in the way of its original production on the stage, as the chinovniks of the day considered it not sufficiently "well-intentioned" in tone. They would have succeeded in suppressing such an outspoken satire had not the Tsar Nicholas, as in the case of Krilóv, personally applauded the comedy, laughing heartily over the Town-Governor's embarrassments.

      There have been several editions of Gogol's works, including a complete collection published at Moscow in 1856-57. Some of his novels have been translated, but I have not seen an English rendering of the Revizór. I do not think any translation has as yet been published in England or America. Sosnitski's edition, dated 1886, which introduces some slight changes in the text and punctuation, is followed in the present version. The original manuscript is in the possession of Professor TikhonraVof, of Moscow University.

      Gogol has embodied some criticisms on his play, and views on comedy in general, in his Teatralni Razyezd, or Departure from the Theatre. In this piece the author, after being concealed in the foyer, soliloquises on the different and not always complimentary opinions passed on his play by the audience at the close of the performance. "I overheard more than I expected," he says. " So they complain that there is not a single honest character in the piece. Well, at any rate, honest ridicule is present throughout." The state of his feelings may also be gathered from some extracts which I translate freely from a letter of his to Pushkin, written shortly after the first representation—.

      "... The Revizor has been played, but I am perplexed and distressed about it.... My creation seemed strange and foreign to me. The principal part was a failure, as I expected. Durr (the actor) had not the faintest conception of Khlestakov's personality. He gave us a farcical scapegrace borrowed from the Paris theatres—he was the hackneyed liar who has appeared on our stage in exactly the same costume for the last two centuries. Cannot the character of Khlestakov be divined from his part ? Have I in my self-conceit so lamentably failed to give indications for the actor's guidance? Yet I thought it was clear enough. Khlestakov is not an intentional impostor, or a liar by profession; he forgets that he is telling falsehoods, and almost believes what he is saying. His spirits rise, as he finds he is a success he becomes expansive, poetic, inspired. How much of that, pray, was expressed ? Why, not a bit of recognisable individuality did poor Khlestakov exhibit. . . . As a matter of fact, he is one of a set of not very distinguished young people, who sometimes behave well and talk sensibly. It is only in exceptional circumstances that his mean and insignificant nature is revealed. . . . In a word, he is a combination of many different Russian types. We all are, or have been, Khlestakovs only we don't care to admit it. We prefer to laugh at the failing in other people. The smart cavalry officer, the man of state, even the literary sinner, have all, for once in their lives at least, played the part. . . .

      "On


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