Home of the Gentry

I found this novel attractive primarily for its description of life in the country. It would be a mistake, I think, to focus too much on the story which is nothing if not a melodramatic: Lavretsky, whose upbringing (said to resemble Turgenev’s more than a little bit) was, uh, problematic, falls in love with the perfect woman. The marriage predictably falls apart and he returns to Russia (from Paris, of course) intent on shutting himself away. But he hasn’t counted on falling in love again. The supporting characters are colorful, the scenery—as always with Turgenev—important and beautifully captured, the lives and problems of the people often moving. All that said, I wouldn’t recommend this as an introduction to Turgenev or show more even a second (or third) work. He wrote a number of better things. show less

review of
Ivan Turgenev's Home of the Gentry
by tENTATIVELY, a cONVENIENCE - July 29, 2013

I think I started reading this, Turgenev's 2nd novel, around the same time I was reading an SF bk. It seemed like about time to return to Turgenev b/c I'd previously only read Fathers and Sons, his 4th novel, in March of 1976, 37 yrs before. I read Fathers and Sons largely b/c its characters were based on actual revolutionaries, such as Bakunin, that were contemporary w/ Turgenev & that Turgenev had had some contact w/. It seemed to me in 1976, & still seems to me now, in 2013, that writing such a novel in 1861 was remarkable. SO, time to finally revisit him.

As I started reading Home of the Gentry, I was deeply impressed by the quality of the show more writing & I found myself wondering: 'Why am I bothering to read the functional but linguistically uninspired writing of this SF novel when I cd be reading great literature like this instead?' - much as I had when I was a teenager & discovering such writers for the 1st time. Take, eg, this acerbic description from p 43 (as translated by Richard Freeborn):

"he was a simple country squire, fairly devil-may-care, loud-mouthed and slow-witted, rude but not malicious, fond of entertaining and following the hounds. He was over thirty when he inherited from his father two thousand souls in perfect condition, but he soon dispersed them, sold part of the estate and over-indulged his house-serfs. Like cockroaches, various nonentities, both friends and strangers, crawled from all sides into his spacious, warm and dowdy manor house; the whole lot of them ate their fill of whatever came their way, drank themselves tipsy and pilfered what they could, praising and glorifying their gracious host as they did so; and the host, when he was in low spirits, also glorified his guests with such titles as spongers and scoundrels, but grew bored without them."

All of Turgenev's character descriptions are incisive & seemingly fairly accurate pegging of 'types' that he had observed in his social circles. In Isaiah Berlin's "'Fathers and Children' Romanes Lecture 1970" as reproduced at the beginning of the Penguin edition of Fathers and Sons that I have, Berlin states that "some of the young Russian revolutionaries freely conceded the accuracy and justice of his portraits of them." (P 9)

Turgenev's novel has a current of awareness of the vicissitudes of class: "Her master, Dmitry Pestov, Marya Dmitievna's father, a quiet and modest man, saw her once during the threshing, talked to her and fell passionately in love with her. She was soon widowed; Pestov, although a married man, took her into his house and dressed her like a house-serf. Agafya at once acclimatized herself to her new position, just as if she had never lived otherwise. She grew paler and fuller; her arms beneath her muslin sleeves grew 'white as wheaten flour', like those of a merchant's wife; the samovar was never off the table; she would wear nothing but silk and velvet and slept on feather beds. This life of bliss lasted about five years, until Dmitry Pestov died; his widow, a kindly woman, in deference to the dead man's memory, had no wish to deal dishonourably with her rival, more especially since Agafya had never been disrespectful to her; however she married her off to a cowherd and banished her from sight." - p 144

In the light of Turgenev's hypothetical sensitivity to revolutionary issues, I do find the quote from p 43 of Home of the Gentry above to be a little peculiar. It seems that Turgenev accepts the notion that people who inherit power & wealth somehow 'deserve' it while those who parasitize off it don't deserve it & are "sponges". Aren't they both just living off the wealth accrued by others? At least the 'sponge' has to ingratiate himself &/or be entertaining while the host need not to've done anything other than be born fortunate.

&, yet, the later harsh treatment of these "sponges" isn't exactly condoned either: "Certain changes were certainly made in the house: the spongers and parasites underwent immediate expulsion; among those who suffered were two old women, one blind, the other afflicted by paralysis". (p 55)

Then again, not everything is written to express the author's perspective:

"'Yes, indeed, indeed. They say, you know, that she's keeping company with artists and with pianists, and with lions, as they call them over there, and wild beats of every sort. She has completely lost all shame . . .'" - p 22

Being a musician myself, & observing the lack of respect that musicians often get (I was told by a government official once that "musician" is not a profession), it was interesting for me to get a 19th century peek:

"Christopher Theodore Gottlieb Lemm was born in 1786 into a family of penurious musicians in the town of Chemnitz in the Kingdom of Saxony. His father played the French horn, his mother played the harp; by his fifth year he was himself practicing three different instruments. At eight he was orphaned and at ten he began earning his daily bread by his playing. For a long time he led a vagrant life, playing everywhere — at inns, at fairs, at peasant weddings and at balls. Finally he found a place in an orchestra and, moving ever higher and higher, eventually became conductor. He was a rather poor performer, but he had a fundamental understanding of music. In his twentieth-eighth year he emigrated to Russia. He had been booked by a grandiose member of the gentry who could not endure music but maintained an orchestra for show. Lemm spent seven years as his director of music and left without a penny to show for it: the gentleman in question went bankrupt, wanted to give him an I.O.U. but later refused to give him even that — in short, did not pay him a farthing." - pp 30-31

In translator Freeborn's introduction to Home of the Gentry he says that "Turgenev became the chronicler of this type of 'superfluous man' intellectual." (p 9) I find this a particularly engaging notion partially b/c I spent much of my young adulthood feeling as if I were treated as a useless "'superfluous man' intellectual" but thinking that this perception of the 'uselessness' of intellectualism was a symptom of the lack of appreciation of intelligence more than it was an accurate criticism.

Freeborn goes on to compare Home of the Gentry to the 2 novels to follow it by saying that "Turgenev's generation of the intelligentsia (the so-called 'men of the forties') was first seriously challenged by the new, radical, nihilistic generation of the 1860s, whom Turgenev was to depict obliquely in On the Eve (1860) and directly in the figure of Bazarov in Fathers and Children (1862)." [aka Fathers and Sons] "Home of the Gentry is thus the last of Turgenev's major works to be concerned exclusively with his own generation." (p 10)

There were moments when reading this seemed entirely too irrelevant to my own 'contemporary' life. But for people wanting an educational taste of attitudes past, it's still entertaining: "On the other hand, after his own fashion, he did take trouble over his son's education: Vladimir Nikolaich could speak French beautifully, English well and German badly. Which is as it should be: decent people are ashamed of speaking German well, but the art of dropping a German word into one's conversation at certain, usually humorous, moments - c'est même très chic, as our St. Petersburg Parisians express it." (p 25) This, over 200 yrs after the founding of Die Fruchtbringende Gesellschaft in 1617 by German scholars and nobility to promote German as a scholarly and literary language on par w/ Italian & French!

Turgenev excels in social description of a not necessarily flattering sort:

"The promised land of high society spread out before him. Panshin soon learned the secret of such a life; he learned how to imbue himself with real respect for its rules, how to talk nonsense with quasi-facetious importance and giving the impression of considering everything important to be nonsense, how to dance to perfection and dress in the English style." - p 26

"Ivan Petrovich returned to Russia an Anglomaniac. With his hair cut short, the starched frill on his shirt front, the long pea-green frock-coat with its multitude of collars, a sour expression on his face, something both brusque and negligent in his manner, the pronunciation of words through his teeth, a sudden wooden laugh, lack of smiles, exclusively political and politico-economic talk, a passion for underdone roast-beef and port wine — everything about him literally reeked of Great Britain". - pp 54-55

Just as Fathers and Sons can be alternately translated as Fathers and Children, etc, so can Home of the Gentry be alternately translated as Nest of the Gentry: "His 'nest of the gentry' appeared dirty, impoverished and unkempt to him". - p 44 & how do these gentry keep their nests feathered?:

"Six months later he declared himself to Varvara Pavlovna and offered her his hand. His offer was accepted; the general had long ago, almost on the eve of Lavretsky's first visit, inquired of Mikhalevich the number of Lavretsky's serfs; and Varvara Pavlovna, moreover, who throughout the young man's courtship and even at the very moment he had declared himself to her maintained her customary serenity and lucidity of soul — even Varvara Pavlovna knew full well that her fiancé was rich". - p 67

Of the 3 countries other than Russia that get the most mention, France gets the most respect & admiration: "A week had not gone by before she was making her way across the street wearing a shawl, opening an umbrella or pulling on gloves no less expertly than the most pure-blooded native of Paris." - p 70

But, it's perhaps the theme of the main character's age that most resonated w/ me. I was 35 when I was 1st accused of being a "dirty old man" by a girl that I'd been having sex w/ who was 20. She didn't seem to mind during the sex. In Home of the Gentry, the main character is already looked upon as over-the-hill by the time he's 37. "At the very height of this deafening fun a muddy tarantass drove up to the gates and a man of about forty-five, in a travelling cloak, stepped out of it and stopped in astonishment." (p 198) "'Don't feel you have to entertain me; we old people have an entertainment of our own, which you don't know about yet and which can't be replaced by any other: our memories.'" (p 201) "He had become tranquil and — what point is there in hiding the truth? — old, not in face and body alone, but in his soul as well; to keep the heart young into old age, as some claim they can, is difficult and almost comic". (p 202) "but for you there are things to be done, there is work to do, and the blessing of us old men will go with you. But for me, after this day, after such sensations as these, it remains only to make you a final bow — and, if with sadness, but without envy, without any dark feelings, to say, in sight of the end, in sight of ever-waiting God: "Welcome, lonely old age! Burn out, useless life!"'" (p 203)

That might seem excessively maudlin & melodramatic but I think of research I once did about the average life span of males in France in the late 19th century: as I recall, it was 45. Just imagine a hundred yrs from now when lifespans might be once again doubled as they have been in the last 100 yrs: 160 will be old but 45? A mere babe. show less

High on emotion and with an inevitable fateful ending that stamps it as Nineteenth Century Russian. Turgenev is a graceful and concise writer; he is a fine exponent of the natural world and he is a master of observation when the manners of all strata of Russian society are placed in his orbit.
I remember loving "Torrents of Spring" long ago; this novel did not hold me in the same awe - but then much time and many other books have passed through my hands.

This book was not off to a good start for me:

“Before the open window of a handsome house, in one of the streets on the outskirts of the provincial town of O, sat two ladies, one of fifty and the other an old lady of seventy.”

What? Who are you calling old? Lol.

Okay, I recovered myself and dove in with good intentions and tackled the second problem, which is just something that comes with reading Russian novels, you have to sort out all those names so that you don’t have to pause and say “who?” all the time.

But finally, I had conquered them and never blinked knowing that Fyodor Ivanych Levretsky was Fedya and Elena Mikhaylovna Kalitin was also Lenochka.

I settled into the story, and was fairly interested when we got our first show more glimpses of Fedya (we are on endearment terms at this point) falling for his wife. We are told the moment we meet him that he has left her in Paris, so we know there is going to be something juicy here. But alas, that part passes rather quickly and I dare say everything after that is boring.

I am going to admit to being disappointed that the choice this time for the Obscure group was a Russian novel. The last one was a Russian novel as well, so this might be turning into the Obscure Russian novels group. But, no, that is unfair, because the other Russian novel was [b:The Brothers Karamazov|4934|The Brothers Karamazov|Fyodor Dostoevsky|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1427728126l/4934._SX50_.jpg|3393910], and that one isn’t even obscure.

If you want to read Turgenev, and you have not read him before, go for [b:Fathers and Sons|19117|Fathers and Sons|Ivan Turgenev|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1390793535l/19117._SY75_.jpg|1294426]. Far superior. Some novels are obscure for a reason. show less

A Nest of the Gentry is a fine novel full of descriptions of the lives of Russian gentry with their often supercilious and sybaritic lives, just and unjust to their servants and serfs, some "modern" in their outlooks on society and relations, others more traditional and hidebound (though less of this than one finds in Fathers and Sons), some comfortable and blind in their stations, others more sensitive to changes brewing in society and government (again, less so than in Fathers and Sons), but underlying it all, the basic kaleidoscope of human relations and emotions with family ties (good and bad), love, passion, betrayal, and finally disappointment in love and life because of the uncontrollable and unpredictable sliding doors of fate. show more

The novel starts slowly, but comes to focus on the lives of Lavritsky and Liza. Lavritsky had a difficult childhood but grew more as a man and was happily married to Varvara Pavlovna, whom he thought would be the love of his life until he discovered, in Paris, that she was unfaithful. Lavritsky left her on the spot, gave her an allowance to live on, traveled, returned to Russia, and led a solitary, bruised life on his estate. Solitary, that is, until he began to fall in love with Liza, 15/16 years his junior, but a remarkably self-assured and mature young woman. In their professed love for each other, Lavritsky saw, "the coveted goblet frothing and sparkling with the golden wine of delight". All of this predicated upon his belief, from a news story, that his wife was dead. But, the goblet was dashed from his hands when his wife, and young daughter, turn up, very much alive, looking for Lavritsky's protection and support. He is bound to do what society requires of him, though he will do nothing more, but any future with Liza is dashed and she, distraught beyond endurance, takes herself to a convent. Varvara Pavlona soon falls into her old ways. She and Lavritsky again lead completely separate lives and Lavritsky becomes a "lonely, homeless wanderer".

Lavritsky, after about eight years of separation, goes to the remote convent where Liza is living. They do not speak to each other, but

"Stepping down from choir to choir she walked close past him; she passed with the even, meekly hurried gait of a nun and did not glance at him; only the eyelashes quivered slightly and the emaciated face bent still lower and the fingers of her clasped hands entwined with the rosary were pressed still tighter. What were they both thinking, what were they feeling? Who can know? Who can say? There are moments in life, such feelings...One can but point to them–and pass on."

A novel of emotions that rings true, fine characters, fine depiction of the intertwining of human relations and emotions. show less

Short but overly dramatic love story with characters who range from insipid to narcissistic to emotional intelligent. It's redemption is the dialogue about the obvious need to change the socio-economic and -political culture of mid-19th century Russia.

"Home of the Gentry" is the story of two lonely people who find and understand each other, only to have everything fall apart just as their happiness is at hand. A lovely character study that anticipates Chekhov.