This energy of dammed-up thought, prevented from overflowing into action, invested Russian literature with its peculiar intensity. A charged atmosphere, a sense of coming storm and apocalyptic revelation pervades the great works of nineteenth-century Russian literature. They were full of forebodings and prophecies, bear demonic charges as inhibited energy, give glimpes of ecstatic heights of hope, fearful depths of gloom. Their characters are driven by obscure compulsions into the most violent gestures and grimaces; their events take place against a background of prenatural darkness, illuminated by sudden flashes of blinding light; their sunlit passages seem brighter than the light of day.
Even the humor of Russian literature, without losing its gaiety, is yet grotesque and savage, full of violent and incomprehensible actions, fantastical gesticulations, terrible caricatures that come close to tragedy, laughter that verges on hysteria. What is Dead Souls, a humorous masterpiece? A sanative satire meant to heal Russia of deep maladies, the voice of a religious holy man, crying of wickedness, salvation, and doom? Not only the critics, its very author could not make up his mind or know what it was that he had done, or ever finish the work.
Onward to the Next!
Back to The Russian Intelligentsia or The Russian Word