A Hero of Our Time - Mikhail Lermontov

Lermontov (1814 -1841)

Written at the end of Lermontov's career, between 1838-1840, A Hero of Our Time embraced the new transitional stage in Russian literature when "verse surrendered its pre-eminence to the story and the novel, and the great age of Russian literature began." (Foote, 1965) A contemporary of Pushkin, Lermontov became the singular Russian romantic poet and his writing emulated the zeitgeist of Byronism and the culture of the Superfluous Man, which Russian society suffered from through the 1840's and 1850's.

The Byronic hero is often born into wealth, he is displaced by a culture that lacks the ability to understand or appreciate him; to work is unnecessary and there is no cause worth fighting for, their lack of self-realization creates a torpor of ineffectual passivity, as they spend their time waiting for life to end, they occupy themselves with anything that can momentarily hold their attention. These superior heroes are set apart from the society they are born into,  leaving them destined to tread water, the flotsam of a purposeless destiny.

Pechorin, the Hero is a young passionate 25 year old, who having gleaned all he can from life has grown bored and embittered. Like Goncharov's  Oblomov, Pechorin is overcome by the vast meaninglessness of life, but unlike Oblomov, who's listlessness borders on an apathetic life of sloth, Pechorin wreaks havoc on people's lives for his own amusement. But even this fails to pique his interest indefinitely and after toying with people he moves on to his next victim, not really seeking them out, but rather waiting for his victims, mostly women, to unsuspectingly cross his path.

A Hero of Our Time is comprised of five short character studies, presenting Pechorin for our assessment, and at first glance he is a narcissistic young man, convinced of his own perfect knowledge and mastery of life, doused with a touch of fashionable disenchantment., not unlike Pushkin's Eugene Onegin.  His pride and arrogance are worn almost as a type of cross, he is burdened by his brilliance and his experiences have left him tired and jaded. He seems to have a particular dislike for women, conquering their chastity and virtue one hurdle at a time, only to quickly grow bored, leaving women to pine for him wherever he goes.

In the first sketch, "Bela" after catching a glance of the heroine, he plots a way to get her with Bela's brother who happens to be hopelessly in love with a horse.

"All right, I swear you shall have the horse. But I want your sister Bela in return. Karagyoz (the horse) will do as bride money for her. I hope this deal suits you."

After the least romantic wooing in history, Bela sits in her new room wrapped in a shawl huddling in the corner. Pechorin, at least has the decency to not force himself immediately on her and instead waits for her to warm to the idea that she now belongs to him. ("For she'll belong to no one else!" he added banging his fist on the table.") When Pechorin's friend asks why he is certain she'll come around, Pechorin laughs and says a woman will do anything for presents, ie. scraps of colored rags, and after some time and many presents Pechorin says in his most romantic speech yet:

"Listen, my fairy, you know very well you'll be mine sooner or later, so why torment me?"

Eventually, Bela finally succumbs to Pechorin's incessant pleas and in a nano second has become the dutiful, if not a tad jealous little house mistress. But in the same nano second of her transformation, Pechorin has changed as well. Now that the chase is over, and perhaps a bit too easy, he has grown bored and stays out late "hunting."

Bela, who has been traded for a horse by her brother and now exiled from her family has lost everything. When she becomes somewhat emotional about the fact that Pechorin has obviously lost interest in her, Pechorin's friend, Maxim, says:

"Look Bela, You can't expect him to spend his whole time here tied to your apron strings. He's a young man and fond of the chase. He'll go off hunting, then come back. But if you're going to mope (!) he'll soon grow tired of you."

Bela, eventually, having been conquered, is worthless and Pechorin moves on, and in an Ecclesiastical aside he notes:

"A native girl's love is little better than that of a lady of rank. The ignorance and simplicity of the one are as tiresome as the coquetry of the other. If you like, I'm still in love with her. I'm grateful for a few moments of relative bliss. I'd give my life for her. But she bores me. I don't know whether I'm a fool or a scoundrel, but one thing I'm sure of is that I'm just as much to be pitied as she is (!), perhaps even more. My soul's been corrupted by society. My imagination knows no peace, my heart has no satisfaction. I'm never satisfied. I grow used to sorrow as easily as I do pleasure and my life gets emptier every day."

Although Lermontov was greatly influenced by Pushkin, and consciously tried to create a link between his work and Eugene Onegin by mimicking Pushkin's naming technique (Onegin is derived from the North Russian river the Onega, while Pechorin is derived from another northern river the Pechora) and now had the  room to flex his literary muscles by writing in the more expansive prose...Onegin is the better novel. Everyone knows Onegin is a bastard, and Tatyana in a way is unconquerable, and becomes the true heroine of the novel, for her ability to survive and her ultimate steadfastness. The tables are turned and as the book ends it's Onegin that must spend the rest of  his days mourning his loss and filled with regret. Lermontov's women, by contrast are always swooning and fainting for Pechorin. They are one dimensional, somewhat offensive character studies of women in general, putting up barely a fight for their virtue and honor and in the end Pechorin, as bored as ever after finally solving all of life's mysteries rides off into a metaphysical sunset.

July's People - Nadine Gordimer

Nadine Gordimer (1923-)

The narrative begins in chaos. Jumping from past and present, weaving between characters' thoughts and memories. As South African apartheid begins to unravel, the tenuous societal structure collapses, as does the identity of Maureen and Bam Smales. The tension and unrest turns to riots, the Smales have fled with their faithful servant of 15 years, July, to his home in the bush. As the family is displaced, with only seconds to flee and without time to pack, Bam grabs a gun while his wife grabs a few coveted rolls of toilet paper and in their chosen items they begin to reveal their prejudices. For Bam, the assumption is that July's people could be dangerous. The gun not only provides a sense of protection, but as he is stripped of his authority it asserts a sense of power that he is otherwise incapable of possessing. For Maureen, the assumption is that July's people are primitive and dirty. As she tries to retain a sense of order, a sense of the way things were, she is caught in the interstices between the reality of their new existence and her perception of who she is.

Both Maureen and Bam would have previously considered themselves liberals. They weren't racist or prejudiced. This war, this uprising, it wasn't their fight. They didn't profess to belong to the superior race, or rather they didn't proselytize their superiority. "They had fled the fighting in the streets, the danger for their children, the necessity to defend their lives in the names of ideals they didn't share in a destroyed white society they didn't believe in..." They treated their servants with respect, if not dignity...and yet here in the bush, surrounded by deprivation, slowly their world is turned upside down and they realize that their role as "master," now taken away, has left a vapid hole and exposed a subterranean prejudice they must fight and contend with as they try to come to terms with the ambiguities of their new life in their isolated surroundings.

For their safety the Smales must remain in the village, and they find themselves in the uncomfortable position of being completely dependent on July for their survival. July takes the car and disappears and for the first time Bam and Maureen are untethered. They are no longer masters of their sole possession and only means of  escape. When July returns, bringing them supplies, they are unable to assert their authority and are powerless to impose their will. For the first time it is July who makes decisions and determines their needs. Bam, stripped of his authority, unable to provide for his family is completely emasculated. He attempts to regain his footing, and with the "white man's face, the old, sardonic, controlled challenge of the patron" he demands to know where and why July took their car. But the threats fall flat. July was out, attending to their needs as he had for the last 15 years. Although they could ask him to return the keys of the car, they don't, and July slowly begins to wear the mantle of authority they have so recently been stripped of.

Maureen attempts to retrieve the keys from July. She wants him to give them to her without having to ask for them. She tells July she wants the rubber floor mat from the car and puts outs her hand, not a request, but an assumption. When she realizes she must give them back, she wanders toward July's hut and waits for him to come to her for their tete a tete.

"When he appeared he was merely coming over to her, unhurried, on a sunny day. Nothing sullen or resentful about him; her little triumph in getting him to come turned over inside her with a throb and showed the meanness of something hidden under a stone."

She asks him whether or not they treated him well, she needs his affirmation, she needs to hear that they gave him everything that he needed, that they treated him fairly, but instead he begins to expose the traces of meanness that have existed all along in the mistrustful glances. He has been their "boy" whether or not they acknowledge the fact. Maureen, hurt by the biting truth of his remarks, threatens to expose his unfaithfulness to his wife. But while her victory gives her a small sense of empowerment, it strips what little is left of her own dignity.

What bothers the Smales most isn't July's independence, but the uncovering and exposing of a version of racism they never expected to find. The version that pays servants always and on time, but refuses to allow the luxury of their own sitting room for fear it will always be crowded with unwanted visitors. The version that provides their servant with a bedroom apartment, but only a single chair to further discourage guests. The version that controls every aspect of July's life as a rite, a subtle almost invisible form of ownership. As they struggle to come to terms with these oscillating emotions they regard each other with disgust.

The subtle brilliance of this book is that rather than having a family of racists learn the value and humanity of the natives they are are forced to live among, instead a family of liberals must contend with the demons of racism heretofore unexpected, leaving them conscious stricken and unfamiliar.

The Song of Roland

The Song of Roland recounts the Battle of Roncesvalles in 778 in a style that would put Quentin Terantino to shame and was probably written for a similar target demographic. Claimed to be the oldest surviving work of French literature, this epic poem depicts the betrayal of the Franks and their subsequent battle to victory.

The poem begins "Charles the king, our mighty emperor has been in Spain for all of seven years.." at this point all pagan nations from France to the sea have been conquered, all but the mountain city, Saragossa. "Marsilla holds it; he does not love God, but serves Mohammed and invokes Apollo. No matter what he does, his ruin will come." An inauspicious beginning for the Saracens.

Charlemagne and his men are exhausted from battle and apprehensive about the size of the Saracen army and decides to send an envoy to ascertain whether or not this last bastion of pagans will throw in the towel and convert to Christianity. As Charlemagne ponders whom to send on this somewhat dangerous mission, his lords and barons seem hesitant to claim such a mission for themselves, and then the much lauded Roland decides to nominate his stepfather...much to the stepfather, Ganelon's, chagrin. Ganelon is enraged.  As he musters his courage and gathers his gear the hatred drips off his brow. "His arrogance will be the end of him, for every single day he teases death. If someone killed him...we might all have peace." And thus the germ of an idea is planted, and Ganelon ruminates, chewing the cud of his idea as he makes his way to meet Marsilla, he promises under his breath that he will see to it that Roland dies.

As Ganelon is presented to Marsilla he paints Charlemagne's demands as unglamorously as possible. " Thus noble Charlemagne requires of you that you receive the holy Christian faith, and he will give you half of Spain in fief." Obviously Marsilla is insulted, growing colorless with rage he is about to strike Ganelon, when he is told this messenger might not have France's best interests at heart. After a short tete a tete, Genelon has told the Saracen's how they can ambush the rear guard of Charlemagne's army and as a bonus kill Roland in the process. Charlemagne will be so distraught over losing his nephew, that he will have no desire to ever fight again.

"If someone were to cause the death of Roland, then Charles would lose the right arm from his body; the awe-inspiring host would cease to be, no more would Charles assemble such a force and Tere Majur would then be left in peace..."

It doesn't exactly go according to plan and Ganelon officially has become the worlds worst stepfather. Although the Franks are ambushed, they fight so valiantly they are able to do considerable damage to the Saracen army. Rather than risk any remote possibility of cowardice, Roland refuses to blow his olifant and call for help..."May God forbid that it be said by any man alive I ever blew my horn because of pagans..."

There might be a tiny bit of confusion between bravery and bravado and after receiving a little lecture from Olivier regarding prudence and recklessness, Roland decides they have lost enough men, there is no hope for the rear guard, but if Charlemagne would come with all his army to defend their honor and avenge their name, they would certainly be victorious. Roland blows his olifant, bursting his temples and continues to fight until he is the last man standing. Slowly he crawls to a hill, attempts to destroy his sword so that it won't fall into the hands of  the pagans and then as he leans himself against a tree facing the enemy he dies, even in death not turning his back on his oppressors.

When Charlemagne finally arrives, he finds only the dead bodies of even his most valiant soldiers. The Franks arms themselves and pursue the fleeing Saracen army, chasing them into the Ebro river where they drown en masse.

Some of the more horrific Terantino-esque moments were: "He breaks his gilt, fleuron-emblazoned shield, bursting both his eyeballs from his head- his brain comes tumbling downward to his feet -..." or  "the count swings down with such tremendous force , he shears away his helmet to the nasal and slashes through his nose and mouth and teeth, his trunk and through his coat of jazeraint, his gilded saddle, both its silver bows and deep into the backbone of his horse..." YIKES!

I also thought the blatant propaganda was interesting. Each time a pagan dies, Satan is waiting near by to drag his spirit into hell unlike the lucky Franks who not only have St. Michael and the angel Gabriel fighting for them, but they are all guaranteed a seat in Holy Paradise next to the Innocents. While the Saracens are presented as cowards, fleeing and screaming "we can't take any more!" The Franks dutifully and gloriously follow in pursuit.

While a little heavy in the skull crushing department,  I  found this poem vastly more engrossing than Beowulf...and I now, like Charlemagne and all his army can cry "Monjoy" when charging the enemy into battle, something I'm sure will come in handy one of these days.