Part 26 (1/2)

Her husband is taken for the army, and Matrna goes, although her time is on her to bring to birth another baby, to plead for him to the Governor's lady. Somewhat to our surprise she wins her cause and gets her husband back again, but the peasants are cured after hearing her story of imagining that any woman could be happy in Russia.

”'The Tsar, little Father, But never a woman: G.o.d knows, among women Your search will be endless.'”

So they continue their wanderings, and having heard many grim stories of all sorts, they remain without a solution to their problem, and the only consolation suggested by the author comes in a subtle touch: a son of a psalm-singer, with a knowledge of, and deep sympathy for, all the down-trodden ones, finds exaltation in putting together songs about their pains and greatness:

”In his breast rose throbbingly powers unembraceable, In his ears rang melody--henceforth undefaceable: Words of azure radiance, n.o.ble in benignity.

Hailing coming happiness and the People's dignity.”

Happiness, Nekra.s.sov concludes, can only be won in doing creative work.

I have, I think, by my copious quotations from his most popular poem at any rate proved his claim to be considered ”the Russian Crabbe,” the uncompromising realist who can depict the sorrows of the poor with undeflected trueness of aim.

III

PUSHKIN (1799-1837)

It is habitual with critics, especially critics of Russian literature, to probe with a microscopic accuracy into the work of the subject they undertake to explain: they search for psychological phenomena untiringly, and are not content unless they can wrest a secret from the author which the author himself would certainly in many cases never have realised that he possessed. We see this in our own tongue in many of the critical essays on Shakespeare. We see it applied to Pushkin equally unnecessarily; for Pushkin needs no interpreter: he is delightfully human, clear, sincere, impulsive, vital and vivifying, as far removed as possible from any artfulness, the least of a digger in the depths of his own soul imaginable. He is the type of artist who sees Beauty in her naked blaze and straightway reincarnates her because he cannot help it.

He is of the earth, earthy in the best sense of the word. The final word about him is that he accepted life open-heartedly and as a consequence requires in his readers an equal open-heartedness and nothing else.

He was brought up as a boy in an atmosphere of that sparkling elegance which we a.s.sociate with the French, and himself wrote verses in that tongue, by the age of twelve acquiring a real taste in French literature. He revelled in Plutarch, Voltaire, Rousseau and Moliere, imitated the French comedies and acted them before his sister. As was customary in Russia, he was, as a boy, allowed free access to the society of the literary and artistic people who frequented his father's house. Here he entered into that life of boundless hospitality, disorderliness, whimsical jollity, and revelry, of erotic and baccha.n.a.lian orgies, which were typical of the upper cla.s.ses of his time.

From his nurse, a life-long friend, he learnt to love the world of Russian folklore.

For five years, from twelve to seventeen, he was at the Lyceum, just then opened at the Tsarskoye Sel, which reflected among its youthful pupils the same pa.s.sions of illicit amours, drink, and literature which characterised the parents. They became a sort of jovial anarchists. Like the Elizabethans, they were as often intoxicated with poetry as with wine. Pushkin early became the leader, as was only natural: he was already the best-read man in Russia; he was enthusiastic over the work of his younger contemporaries; he was an ideal companion. Like Milton and most other geniuses of a high order, he recognised his _metier_ very early in his life. He wrote in his teens:

”I am a poet too. My new and modest road Is now bestrewn with flowers by G.o.ddesses of singing, And G.o.ds have poured into my breast The names, elating visions bringing....”

Not only so, but--

”My pen revels in finding In it the ends of lines.

Exactness of expressions Through hallowed crystal s.h.i.+nes.”

Exactness of expression is as important to Pushkin as it was to Pope, just as fearless honesty was the keystone of his personality.

It was at the public examination of the Lyceists in Russian literature in 1815 that he first came before the public eye. Together with other compet.i.tors he had to read his work before the old ode-writer D'erjavin, who was so thrilled by _The Reminiscences of the Tsarskoye Sel_ that he wanted to rush forward and embrace the young poet.

Jukvski, then at the height of his fame, would read his verses to Pushkin and rely on his judgment. When in return Pushkin read _Ruslan and Ludmla_, Jukvski gave the boy his portrait with this inscription: ”To the victorious pupil from his conquered teacher.”

Such treatment might well be expected to turn the head of the youth, but Pushkin was then, as ever, modest and extremely critical of his own work. He was, as I have said, always searching for hidden genius in others: he it was who first discovered Gogol, and when that d.i.c.kens of Russia published _Dead Souls_ and _The Inspector-General_, the subjects in each case being suggested to him by Pushkin, the poet said delightedly: ”The rascal robs me in such a bewitching way that it is impossible to be angry with him.”

Pushkin's father declined to allow him to take a commission in the Hussars, and at eighteen the poet obtained a post in the Foreign Office, where he had much leisure, and plunged deeper than ever into the excesses common to his time, with the result that, though he swam, rode, fenced and walked to keep himself fit, twice in his nineteenth and twentieth years he nearly lost his health. Nor did his riotous living prevent him from working hard at his poetry.

In 1820 the long fairy tale _Ruslan and Ludmla_ appeared. The nearest approach to it in England is _Hero and Leander_--sensuous yet cold.

Everywhere it was read, copied out and learnt by heart by tradesman and n.o.ble alike. The story was founded on the national folklore. A wicked, humped dwarf carries away the only daughter of Prince Vladimir of Kiev from her nuptial bed to his castle: Ruslan, the bridegroom, and three disappointed lovers give chase. The adventures of the four warriors, Ludmla's seclusion in the wizard's castle and Ruslan's ultimate victory by hanging on to the long beard of the dwarf as he flies over seas and forests form the plot of the story.

The method of handling the story was fascinating, and quite new to Russia. It was vigorous, whimsical, absolutely natural and human: it was this last characteristic in particular which captivated the hearts of the whole race. Russia always loves the natural--but she did not yet recognise why it was that Pushkin especially appealed to her: there had been hitherto no realistic school.

No one realised, Pushkin least of all, that _Ruslan and Ludmla_ laid the foundation-stone of all future Russian literature.