FIRST LOVE: Ivan Turgenev.

I don’t know what possessed me to read anything by Ivan Turgenev. I had just recently heard that Hemingway was a fan and was said to have been influenced by Turgenev’s work, so when I saw First Love at (my favorite) Borders, I examined it and, of course, bought it.

I’ll share the blurb from the back cover of the Penguin Classics edition as I have since completed another Turgenev novella and now have difficulty in separating them in my mind:

When the down-at-heel Princess Zasyekin moves next door to the country estate of Vladimir Petrovich’s parents, he instantly and overwhelmingly falls in love with his new neighbour’s daughter, Zinaida. But the capricious young woman already has many admirers and, as she plays her suitors against each other, Vladimir’s unrequited youthful passion soon turns to torment and despair- although he remains unawared of his true rival for Zinaida’s affections. Set in the world of nineteenth-century Russia’s fading aristocracy, Turgenev’s story depicts a boy’s growth of knowledge and mastery over his own heart as he awakens to the complex nature of adult love.

I want to be careful to do this little novella justice. I have a handful of observations to make that may seem negative, but they did not detract from the experience of the reading for me.

The blurb alone already has the reader whipping out her Sherlock Holmes hat, rolling up her sleeves and on the lookout for Zinaida’s potential suitor. And this is why an old college professor of mine would throw an absolute fit whenever a student would reference the back-cover summary in class: there is very little question as to the identity of Zinaida’s mystery suitor. If anything, the reader is all the more frustrated by this unrequited love due to Vladimir’s absolute refusal to see it for himself. The “mystery” involved is non-existent. Even when Vladimir lies in wait in the garden, blade in hand, to attack Zinaida’s lover and sees him with his own eyes, he is still determined not to recognize the situation.

And I remembered Looshin’s words: ‘To sacrifice oneself is the height of bliss- for some people.’

I originally found Zinaida herself to be problematic: she is the classic, unattainable object of affection. Several years older, amazingly beautiful and profoundly aware of it. She teases her suitors to no end, as this type always does. However, it seems to me that it is Zinaida who makes the greatest transformation over the course of the novella, and in my mind she ultimately redeems herself.

‘Can’t you imagine, let us say, that you are married, and tell us how you would arrange your life with your bride. Would you lock her up?’

‘I should.’

‘And you would remain with her yourself?’

‘Certainly. I should certainly stay with her all the time.’

‘Admirable. And if this happened to bore her, and she deceived you?’

‘I should kill her.’

‘And if she ran away?’

‘I should pursue and catch her and still kill her.’

‘I see. And supposing that I were your wife, what would you do then?’

Byelovzorov, after a silence, said, ‘I should kill myself.’

When I finally blog about the Turgenev novella I finished today, you will see that the plots unmistakably similar. This was discouraging at first, but again, by the time I had completed the reading, I was glad I had done so.

She tore herself from my embrace, and was gone. I went too. I cannot even begin to convey the feelings with which I left her. I never wish to experience them again, but I should count it a misfortune never to have had them at all.

Ultimately, I find that the end result upon completion of the novella is only incidentally related to unrequited love, but of course, I don’t want to give away what little surprise is involved in the story!

****
FOUR STARS.