This Russian novel features my favorite Byronic hero ever, the self-aware super jerk Pechorin. Unlike the Byronic heroes of English literature we aren't really told that Pechorin is secretly good underneath. He is a complex man but he never pretends to be anything but selfish and hedonistic. In a series of interconnected short stories that report to be Pechorin's diaries we are introduced to a man who knows his flaws and yet is unconcerned with changing to become a better man. Even as he seems to realize his actions will only hurt him in the end.

A great book for fans of Russian literature or people who love a good anti-hero. ( )

Pechorin is quite apt in his allusion of himself to the vampire. He is the superflous man, the Byronic anti-hero. the military man who duels and procreates quite a bit. It is ironic, or perhaps only logical, that Lermontov was killed in a duel much like the one his character Pechorin fought and survived.

Pechorin is intelligent, perceptive, sophisticated, cunning, introspective, charismatic, seductive, dominant, and moody. Yes, Dracula!

I was quite entertained and absorbed in Pechorin's misadventures. With a lightning swoop of the pen Lermontov gives us all we need to formulate pictures of the mountains, frontier posts, and society balls.

I think Pechorin would have been much more interesting were he not so preoccupied with women, though I must admit I liked the way he handled Princess Mary. I was almost giddy over it!

Many postmodern men must see themselves reflected in Pechorin (should they ever happen upon his pale countenance). In several ways I see myself in Pechorin—his cynicism, his childhood, what he finds entertaining...

I did feel bad about some of the occurrences. I felt bad for Pechorin's horse. As for the fool man-boy Grushnitsky—did he get what he deserved? Those who live by the sword die by the sword...

I found 'The Fatalist' to be the most philosophical story as well as the most strange. I wish Lermontov would have placed Pechorin in more of those situations, though really I shouldn't complain—I enjoyed my read very much. ( )

The adventures of one Grigory Pechorin, soldier. He is a somewhat dashing, somewhat Byronic antihero, often bored when he achieves his goals. He's not really that nice, yet people find themselves drawn to him. Could fit these times as well as those Lermontov was writing in. Definitely worth reading if you like Byronic antiheroes. ( )

Another book that was recommended to me by a friend, probably because she was concerned for my wellbeing. First there was 'Into the Wild,' the nonfiction book concerning Christopher McCandless's disappearance and subsequent death in the wilds of Alaska - the message: don't do the same!

Now, this fine Russian novel, itself practically autobiographical, about a lost nihilist, a man who felt the decadence of his age and was repulsed by it, though who became a decadent himself. Pechorin, the titular 'hero', lives a life that he himself finds boring, where the only joys to be had are in the machinations of the society around him, which he only approaches from a distance, and always so that they have no effect on him. His tale is mysterious, and mysteriously told; I think I shall find myself returning to this book in the near future to re-examine Lermontov's ideas. Some aspects seem written for me, and perhaps here is another warning for me to heed. ( )

The book tells the story from two points of view of the middle years of life of Gregoriy Pechorin, a Russian military man in the 19th century from a noble background. The first quarter of the book is told in the first person by a narrator some years older than Pechorin who had served with him briefly; the narrator is telling the story to a fellow traveler as they climb through mountains in that land: Ossetia, Caucasus, etc - there are plenty of Ossetes, Cossacks, Chechnyans and others peppered throughout the book. Later in the book, the stories are positioned as being from Pechorin's journals. Aside from a lark into talking about mountain scenery in the manner of Thoreau, the prose is pitch-perfect and as such is just as emotional as Tolstoy where it attempts to be. Although the author, some reviewers and others have tried to paint Pechorin as a victim or a decent guy, I suspect this is a struggled approach to accommodate the title of the book. Pechorin is pretty much devoid of compassion, he's judgmental, bored, manipulative, a perfect devil, without the will to try to hurt everyone, just a few. However, the book is so well written that it could document anyone and the reader would enjoy and be hungry to read on and on in the lyrical, rythymic, hpnotic writing prowess. ( )