Dead Souls (Hardcover)

An acquaintance once commented to me that, though he possessed virtually no creative drive, he didn't envy my own abilities whatsoever: having observed the glorious highs and exhausted lows I went through, all inspired by the febrile imagination, he concluded that a balanced approach to life was far more preferable. I was reminded of this exchange while reading the introduction to Nikolai Gogol's unfinished masterpiece, _Dead Souls_ . Apparently Gogol was blessed/plagued with an enormous amount of creative ambition: he wanted no less than to express the flaws in the Russian character, show how they could be rectified, and in turn 'save' his country from its social/economic quagmire. But though he possessed the vision - or at least glimpses of it - the task of expressing it adequately with the quill seemed far too difficult for the poor man. The mind's eye filled Gogol with glory and divination; it also destroyed him with self-doubt, restlessness, and inner condemnation. Any writer worth his salt (i.e. 'sensitive') will recognize these contrasting traits; will feel and intimately know the sting of art, its agony and its ecstasy.

Alas, Gogol succumbed to the pressure, burning the drafts for _Dead Souls_ second book and never even starting the third concluding volume, and a few days after the conflagration Gogol passed away, probably unable to endure the destruction of his life's work. What remains - the completed first book and fragments of the second - can be contained in a single volume, and for those interested in Russian history and Russian Literature, _Dead Souls_ is a must.

The first book contains much promise and is a delight to read. I do not speak Russian and thus cannot comment on the translation, but David Magarshack, a Russian native and famous for renditions of Dostoyevsky, writes with a clear mastery of the language. The tone is, for the most part, conversational: although there is a vast amount of description and author-asides, the writing never becomes tedious or indulgent. Gogol's savage sense of humor and his piercing character critiques certainly help, as does a healthy dose of self-depreciation.

Although on the surface the first book concerns Chichikov purchasing 'dead souls' in order to gain an estate and title recognition, the emphasis is on the various landowners and commoners Chichikov meets in his travels. Gogol's contempt for the extravagant waste of the ruling class is obvious, as is his concern for the eventual effect it would have on his country. He modeled _Dead Souls_ on Dante's Divine Comedy, the first part being Chichikov's devious efforts to join these dissipated landowners, the second his success and subsequent fall from grace, and the third his retribution before the eyes of God, (presumably) finding happiness in simplicity.

The beginning and fragmented end of the second book gives the reader a few hints into how Gogol planned to erect his masterpiece. A socialist attitude is introduced with the farmer-ideal of Kostanjoglo; Platon depicts the boredom of the born-wealthy. Unfortunately, the quality of material is not up to par with the first book, due to a lack of an editing polish and several chopped out sections. The 'final chapter' resembles more a synopsis of events and theme-development, and is an interesting viewpoint of the writer in mid-craft. The whole arc of the second book can be conjectured from what happens in this last chapter, so, despite its lecturing tone and poor development, it is certainly worth a read.

Powerful, well written, challenging and at times flat out hilarious, _Dead Souls_ is rightly regarded among the pinnacle of Russian Literature. Less than Five Stars would do it an injustice.

So as a result, we're only left with the first part, a vicious, biting attack on the stagnation and hopelessness of Russian rural life. Gogol makes it come to life - the stupidity of the landowners, their utter dullness and incompetence, their avarice and worthlessness. It's amazing - but it should probably be read in Russian, as Russian is not something you can easily translate to English. Chichikov's crafty convoluted, Devilish scheme (Gogol intended to make him a sort of modern manifestation of the Devil) quickly becomes just a vehicle to take him around the country and meet all of these intellectually bankrupt scumbags who would have been really funny if they weren't drawn directly, 100% from real life. The book is given force by its _relevance_ to Russia and its truthfulness. It will amaze you - you will be appalled by the fact that such utter ignorant nonentities of the rural aristocracy still had land, power, and were considered owners of human beings. Social commentary never got better than this.

Pushkin may have been an utter genius of literature all around, but Gogol can truly be called the father of Russian literature. Dostoyevsky, in fact, once said just that. This book is a work of unadulterated genius. In fact, it _is_ Russia in that time - it so perfectly captures the problems of the times. And yet, Gogol clearly loves his country despite hating the things that went on in it - just look at some of the beautiful, poetic passages when Chichikov is riding across the steppe. It's a beautiful, wintry story that has lost none of its appeal or relevance.