Turgenev's Diary of a Superfluous Man

Soviet Roulette has taken a bit of a hiatus.  I required a break and dove into all manner of literature since the pandemic broke out, starting with George Eliot's oeuvre.  Yet I'll keep my oar in the water by mentioning a few Russian books now and again.  Today, I'll mentioned that I've read Ivan Turgenev's Diary of a Superfluous Man and found that the novella seems to foreshadow many of the later classics of modern fiction, including Dostoyevsky's Notes from the Underground or Goncharov's Oblomov.  In truth, I wasn't a huge fan of Turgenev, and was particularly underwhelmed by his most famous work, Fathers and Sons, which seemed a little crude, a novel of ideas rather than a novel of living characters.  However, as I've read more of Turgenev, I've become more and more impressed with his versatility.  They say Turgenev is a great stylist, and perhaps that is difficult to capture in translation.  But what strikes me most about the man is that he was willing to continuously test out new ideas and new literary forms.  While I have many more books to read, I am struck by how different each of his books can be.  Smoke seemed like a light, gossipy novel;  Fathers and Sons seemed obsessed with philosophical posturing;  Diary of a Superfluous Man seems like an investigation into morbid psychology;  First Love seems like a tender romance. I now have the feeling that I will get a wonderful overview of Russia's literary tradition if only I allow myself the time to read all of his diverse novels.  That's a wonderful thing.  I am not sure if I will ever encounter a Turgenev book I like as well as Crime and Punishment, War and Peace, or any of Chekhov's major plays.  Even so, I think I will come to think of him as deserving to be considered in their company.  I will have to tackle Saunders' new book to see how it looks when he considers a Turgenev story along side stories of these other greats.  

Some favorite quotes

How is that that fourteen days are less than fourteen years or fourteen centuries?

..she was always busy, forever bustling about like an ant--and completely without purpose, which cannot be said of an ant.  

That is what children are for, to keep their parents from getting bored.  

While a man is truly living, he has no sensation of his own life;  like a sound, it becomes clear to him only a short time later.  

I have nothing against happiness;  in fact, I have tried to approach it from every angle...

But how do I become a Russophile?

So you want to be a Russophile but you don’t know where to start. It’s a very common conundrum. Do you delve right into Dr. Zhivago? Well, I suppose you could do worse. Zhivago has its merits. You’re not dealing with the best in Russian literature, but you do have the advantage of a damned good film to get you primed for the book. And Zhivago takes you right into the Revolution and the subsequent Civil War. You get a glimpse of class conflict, a healthy dose of Russian tragedy and suffering, a glimpse of Russian poetry, a dash of romanticism and nostalgia, and a nice introduction to the Siberian landscape. On the other hand, I’d also recommend a short book on Stalin, who seems to encapsulate Russia’s long experience with autocracy. I’d probably start with Koba the Dread. Martin Amis, the author, has taken the trouble to encapsulate his father’s famous flair for anti-communism in digestible form. Koba was one of Stalin’s hundreds of nicknames. You get all Stalin’s crimes in a neat, artistic tale of horror, with Stalin cast as a monstrous killer. If this doesn’t seem like it could be the last word on a man like Stalin, who was capable of charming F.D.R. as well as Zinoviev and Kamenev, you’re right. But certainly Stalin had his vampiric qualities, and these deserve a little attention from a gifted mythologist like Amis. Turgenev’s Fathers and Sons would be a third choice. It’s short, perhaps 200 pages, written by one of Russia’s most notable authors, and not too complicated or involved. And it gives you a plot as well as a style rooted in the 19th century but pointing toward the 20th. By contemporary standards, it’s a gentle plot, but one that adumbrates generational conflicts that will become increasingly antagonistic in the future. And of course its lead character was based on the real life of Bakunin: and what better guide to Russia could there be? I wonder what other books readers would recommend as a primer to the tragic greatness of the Russian past?