The Twelve Chairs

OK, now that was just plain old... fun.

A bit dated, sure. But it's very easy to see why it's become a classic; not only is it laugh-out-loud-in-public funny, but with some brilliant settings and character work too, all circling around a huckster character who'll sell people any get-rich-quick scheme or political/philosophical utopia with the same bravado. Almost as if there wasn't really a huge difference between appealing to Mammon or Lenin when it comes to getting people to think they're doing something for themselves while someone else profits. Huh.

Wow, I loved this one. :) The premise is pretty simple: on her deathbed, Ippolit Matveyivich’s mother-in-law tells him of a fortune in jewels that she’s hidden in one of a set of twelve chairs to protect it at the time of the revolution. Unfortunately, the chairs have been dispersed all over Russia and must be tracked down, and on top of that it turns out that the secret has also been entrusted to Father Fyodor Vostrikov, who immediately sets aside his priestly obligations and acts in a decidedly non-holy manner. The race is on. Ippolit teams up with the unforgettable Ostap Bender, the ‘Smooth Operator’, a carefree crook who quickly becomes the master in the relationship, helping Ippolit with has crafty ways, but also using him show more and manipulating everyone he comes into contact with.

The book’s humor, fantastic moments, fun characters, and subtle pokes at post-Revolutionary Russia make it feel like a Bulgakov’s The Master and the Margarita, albeit not supernatural and a lighter read. There are lots of great moments, including a guy getting locked out of his apartment, naked, and soaped up from his shower, a chess tournament where Bender takes on 30 young chess enthusiasts, and Ippolit’s clumsy and drunken adventures with a lady. The minor characters are skillfully weaved in and out of the story line and the final chapters are excellent, but I won’t spoil it. Very enjoyable from beginning to end.

This edition was published in 1961 in the hey-day of the Cold War, and I found this quote in the introduction interesting given the context: “It has long been my considered opinion that strains in Russo-American relations are inevitable as long as the average American persists in picturing the Russian as a gloomy, moody, unpredictable individual, and the average Russian in seeing the American as childish, cheerful and, on the whole, rather primitive.” Friedberg’s point was that The Twelve Chairs would help show the playful side of the Russian character, which was otherwise hidden behind the Iron Curtain and whose more serious or brooding sides were more visible via the more popular works of Dostoevsky and Tolstoy. He was right.

Quotes; these are not necessarily representative but just snippets I liked:
On beauty, as Ellochka tries on a blouse, which makes her look like a goddess:
“More simply, the emotions could have been expressed by the following: men will become excited when they see me like this. They will tremble. They will follow me to the edge of the world, hiccupping with love. But I shall be cold. Are you really worthy of me? I am still the prettiest girl of all. No one in the world has such an elegant blouse as this.”

On life:
“Life, gentlemen of the jury, is a complex affair, but, gentlemen of the jury, a complex affair which can be managed as simply as opening a box. All you have to do is to know how to open it. Those who don’t – have had it.”

On passion, love this one:
“’A passionate woman,’ said Ostap, ‘is a poet’s dream.’”

And:
“’Does your head ache?’
‘Yes, slightly. I have worries, you know. The lack of a woman’s affection has an effect on one’s tenor of life.’”

On vegetarianism, in this case, a bit more out of economic necessity, but a spirited debate:
“’Try to understand,’ said Nicky, ‘a pork chop takes away a week of a man’s life.’
‘Let it,’ said Liza. ‘Phony rabbit takes away six months. Yesterday when we were eating that carrot entrée I felt I was going to die. Only I didn’t want to tell you.’
‘Why didn’t you want to tell me?’
‘I hadn’t the strength. I was afraid of crying.’
‘And aren’t you afraid now?’
‘Now I don’t care.’ Liza began sobbing.
‘Leo Tolstoy,’ said Nicky in a quavering voice, ‘didn’t eat meat either.’
‘No,’ retorted Liza, hiccupping through her tears, ‘the count ate asparagus.’
‘Asparagus isn’t meat.’
‘But when he was writing War and Peace he did eat meat. He did! He did! And when he was writing Anna Karenina he stuffed himself and stuffed himself.’
‘Do shut up!’
‘Stuffed himself! Stuffed himself!’
‘And I suppose while he was writing The Kreutzer Sonata he also stuffed himself?’ asked Nicky venomously.
‘The Kreutzer Sonata is short. Just imagine him trying to write War and Peace on vegetarian sausages!’”

Lastly, I liked the hominess of these jokes told by passengers on a train:
“An old Jew lay dying. Around him were his wife and children. ‘Is Monya here?’ asks the old Jew with difficulty. ‘Yes, she’s here.’ ‘Has Auntie Brana come?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘And where’s Grandma? I don’t see her.’ ‘She’s over here.’ ‘And Isaac?’ ‘He’s here, too.’ ‘What about the children?’ ‘They’re all here.’ ‘Then who’s left in the store?’”

And this one:
“A Jew comes home and gets into bed beside his wife. Suddenly he hears a scratching noise under the bed. The Jew reaches with his hand underneath the bed and asks: ‘Is that you, Fido?’ And Fido licks his hand and says: ‘Yes, it’s me.’” show less

I very much enjoyed this rollicking, absurd satire until the end, where it was like hitting a wall. Set in the 1920’s Soviet Union, the story follows former nobleman-turned-provincial clerk Ippolit Matveyevich Vorobyaninov, searching for the family jewels of his recently dead mother-in-law, and Ostap Bender, an inventive con man. Bender’s nonstop schemes were extremely amusing and the secondary characters and ridiculous situations were fun as well. The authors make fun of various types, presenting a satiric portrait of Soviet society at the time. I probably didn’t get all the allusions or satire, but it was still funny anyway. Vorobyaninov could be annoying at time – the amoral anarchy of Bender is much more appealing. show more Unfortunately, the ending is unhappy for the pair, but also a pat Soviet morality conclusion, with a much different tone from the rest of the novel. It felt tacked on. The rest of the ride was good fun though.

Vorobyaninov has been leading a dull life in a provincial backwater until his mother-in-law Claudia Ivanovna dies, revealing shortly before that she hid her jewels in twelve chairs that they formerly owned. He goes back to their old home in Stargorod and fortuitously meets Bender, who he confides in and who decides to join up in the search. But before she died, Claudia Ivanovna also told the secret to Father Fyodor. He has also come to look for the chairs, and there are several brawls between him and the pair. The chairs eventually get split up and Bender and Vorobyaninov have to go chasing them all over the Soviet Union. Along their trip – which takes them from Stargorod to Moscow to even further afield – the pair encounters a number of people. They form a fake secret resistance and meet unhappy vegetarians, stubborn bureaucrats, too-busy newspapermen, an engineer who gets locked out his flat while naked, an empty-headed woman who has a quixotic quest to compete with the Vanderbilt daughter, and a backwater chess club. Vorobyaninov and Bender are Soviet outcasts – Vorobyaninov as a former nobleman and Bender as a dishonest, apolitical swindler, so unfortunately, they have to come to a bad end. Father Fyodor’s final scene isn’t happy either, but it is wonderfully absurd. show less

"Двенадцать стульев" (1927 г.) — роман, написанный почти век назад, а кажется, что совсем недавно. Его цитируют все, даже те, кто не прочел ни страницы текста и не смотрел ни одной экранизации, а их было уже немало. Остап Бендер, Великий комбинатор, стал персонажем нарицательным, и по всей России ему ставят памятники. История про то, как Бендер вместе со своим "напарником" Кисой Воробьяниновым пытаются найти show more бриллианты мадам Петуховой, спрятанные в одном из 12 стульев мебельного гарнитура, стала поистине "народной классикой".Роман переиздавался в России почти 200 раз, он переведен на множество языков, хотя довольно сложно передать тот юмор, которым перенасыщена эта удивительная во всех смыслах книга. Книга, которая до сих пор так до конца и не разгадана: почему Валентин Катаев предложил этот сюжет двум малоизвестным журналистам родом из Одессы, есть ли у героев прототипы, кто скрывает... show less

After the joy of the Good Soldier Svejk, I searched for other classic East European satires and made a beeline for this tall tale of Ippolit Matveyevich "Kisa" Vorobyaninov and Oskar Bender in their quest to find a treasure of diamonds hidden in one of twelve chairs scattered by fate across Russia. It was a fairly diverting set of adventures and characters, especially the 'smooth operator', but the humour was too specific to the era and had not aged so well. Hard to imagine it was even that funny at the time, kind of slapstick. Still, had it's moments and felt like a window into the 1920s when the Soviet Union was emerging.

This was a fun, albeit predictable, reading experience. The Soviet Union of 1927 was very different from the dark days of the Stalin era that were to come, and Ilf and Petrov are excellent at highlighting so many characteristics of the Soviet people, both in Moscow and in provincial towns throughout the USSR.

However, I found the ending wildly disappointing. The last chapter was rushed, and things seemed to happen solely for the purpose of giving the authors a chance to wrap things up. It was frustrating to have such a fun journey end on such a lame note. Seeing how wonderful the conclusion to Father Fyodor's story was, I was caught completely by surprise by the novel's conclusion just two chapters later, and it soured the whole show more experience.

I'm excited to watch the Mel Brooks movie, as this was (mostly) great source material to work with. I'll read the sequel too, but with a little more skepticism. show less

Prior to a brief but extremely passionate extended weekend, this book was sent to me by a Russian woman who thought my understanding of the language was better than it is.

I've kept the book until now, as a memento of an extremely sensuous few days. I say until now, because for over a year now I have been working for another Russian woman with whom I have become equally enamoured - although age differences and my status as an employee, this will probably only be a one way attraction - and I've given the book in it's pristine condition, to her as a birthday present. This has gone down remarkably well and aroused her curiosity.

Written in Russian, I couldn't comprehend a single word, but the wonders of the internet being what they are, I show more found an English translation. It's quite a good story......

A bureaucrat working in a Soviet era provincial town, learns that his recently deceased mother-in-law had hidden her family treasures in one of 12 chairs. This was to keep them from the Bolsheviks who were seizing all middle class assets.

The tribulations and efforts to recover the chairs sometimes involve humour, deception, guile and theft. Eventually they are found, but the 'treasure' isn't. The ending has the sort of ironic twist for which Russian authors seem especially fond.

I enjoyed reading the book - but not as much as I'm enjoying the added attention from my boss - but wait a minute!! The Demi Moore/Michael Douglas movie 'Disclosure' has just come to mind...... show less