A Russian Gentleman - The Original Classic Edition. Aksakov S

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Название A Russian Gentleman - The Original Classic Edition
Автор произведения Aksakov S
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isbn 9781486414536



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      A RUSSIAN GENTLEMAN UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME

       1 Vol. Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d. net

       A RUSSIAN SCHOOLBOY

       1 Vol. Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d. net YEARS OF CHILDHOOD BY

       SERGE AKSAKOFF Translated from the Russian by J. D. DUFF

       FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE LONDON: EDWARD ARNOLD

       A

       RUSSIAN GENTLEMAN BY

       SERGE AKSAKOFF

       TRANSLATED FROM THE RUSSIAN BY

       J. D. DUFF

       FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE SECOND IMPRESSION

       LONDON

       EDWARD ARNOLD

       1917

       All rights reserved

       TO J. F. D.

       TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE

       Serge Aksakoff,1 the author of this Russian classic, was born at Ufa, in the district of Orenburg, on September 20, 1791. His father held some office in the law-court of the town, and his grandfather lived in the country as the owner of large estates, to which Aksakoff ultimately succeeded. His grandfather had migrated about 1760 from Simbirsk to Ufa, where the population consisted mainly of Tatars and a number of Finnish tribes--Mordvinians, Choovashes, and others.

       Aksakoff was educated at Kazan, and entered the Civil Service in 1808. After serving in many different capacities--he was censor of the Press at Moscow for some years--he retired in 1839 and devoted himself exclusively to literature. He married in 1816; and his two sons, Constantine and Ivan, both played a conspicuous part in the public life of Russia. He died at Moscow, after a long and painful illness, on April 30, 1859.

       His high and secure place among Russian writers Aksakoff owes to three works--his Years of Childhood and Recollections, which are autobiography, and his Family History, which is here translated under the title of A Russian Gentleman. This is his most famous work: his portrait of his grandfather is his masterpiece, and his descriptions of his parents' courtship and marriage are as vivid and minute as his pictures of his own early childhood.

       He began to write this book soon after his retirement from the public service. Portions of it were published in a Moscow magazine in 1846; and the whole work appeared, with the addition of a short Epilogue, in 1856. He published Recollections in the same vol-ume; and Years of Childhood--which should have preceded Recollections--followed in 1858, the last year of his life.

       A Russian Gentleman seems a suitable title for this book, because the whole scene, in which a multitude of characters appear, is entirely dominated and permeated by the tremendous personality of Aksakoff 's grandfather, Stepan Mihailovitch. Plain and rough in

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       his appearance and habits, but proud of his long descent; hardly able to read or write, but full of natural intelligence; capable of furious anger and extreme violence in his anger, but equally capable of steadfast and even chivalrous affection; a born leader of men and the very incarnation of truth, honour, and honesty--Stepan Mihailovitch is more like a Homeric hero than a man of modern times.

       The reader, when he reflects that Aksakoff 's present narrative ends with the day of his own birth, will be inclined to think that the author must have had a lively imagination. I therefore translate the sentence with which Skabichevsky, a critic of reputation, begins his review of Aksakoff 's work:--

       "Aksakoff 's books are remarkable, first of all, on this ground: you will find in them no trace of creative or inventive power."

       I suppose myself that he derived his information chiefly from his mother; but there are certainly scenes in the book which he cannot

       have owed to this source.

       This translation has been made from the Moscow edition of 1900. I should say here: (1) that I have abridged some of the topo-graphical detail at the beginning of the book; (2) that I have dealt freely with the Notes which Aksakoff added, sometimes promot-ing them to the text, and sometimes omitting them wholly or in part. I know of two previous translations. A German translation, Russische Familienchronik, by Sergius Raczynski, was published at Leipzig in 1858. This seems to me a good translation, and I have found it useful in some difficulties. An English translation "by a Russian Lady" was published at Calcutta in 1871; and there is a copy in the British Museum. I have not seen this; but I have heard that it is inadequate, and the first few sentences, which were copied out for me, seem to bear this out.

       I have completed a translation of Aksakoff 's remaining book of Memoirs--his Recollections of school and college; and I hope that it may be published after a short interval.

       J. D. DUFF. Cambridge. Jan. 11, 1917. CONTENTS

       TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE

       FRAGMENT I: STEPAN MIHAILOVITCH BAGROFF

       1. The Migration

       2. The Government of Orenburg

       3. Fresh Scenes.

       4. My Grandfather, on one of his Good Days

       FRAGMENT II: MIHAIL MAXIMOVITCH KUROLYESSOFF FRAGMENT III: THE MARRIAGE OF THE YOUNG BAGROFF FRAGMENT IV: THE YOUNG COUPLE AT BAGROVO FRAGMENT V: LIFE AT UFA

       A RUSSIAN GENTLEMAN

       FRAGMENT I: STEPAN MIHAILOVITCH BAGROFF

       1. The Migration

       When my grandfather lived in the Government of Simbirsk, on the ancestral estate granted to his forefathers by the Tsars of Mus-covy, he felt cramped and confined. Not that there was really want of room; for he had arable land and pasture, timber and other necessaries in abundance; but the trouble was, that the estate which his great-grandfather had held in absolute possession, had ceased to belong to one owner. This happened quite simply: for three successive generations the family consisted of one son and several daughters; and, when some of these daughters were married, their portions took the shape of a certain number of serfs and a certain amount of land. Though their shares were not large, yet, as the land had never been properly surveyed, at this time four intruders asserted their right to share in the management of it. To my grandfather, life under these conditions was intolerable: there was no patience in his passionate temperament; he loved plain dealing and hated complications and wrangles with his kith and kin.

       For some time past, he had heard frequent reports about the district of Ufa--how there was land there without limit for the plough and for stock, with an indescribable abundance of game and fish and all the fruit of the earth; and how easy it was to acquire whole tracts of land for a very trifling sum of money. If tales were true, you had only to invite a dozen of the native Bashkir chiefs in certain districts to partake of your hospitality; you provided two or three fat sheep, for them to kill and dress in their own fashion; you produced a bucket of whisky, with several buckets of strong fermented Bashkir mead and a barrel of home-made country

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       beer--which proves, by the way, that even in old days the Bashkirs were not strict Mahometans--and the rest was as simple as A B C. It was said, indeed, that an entertainment of this kind might last a week or even a fortnight: it was impossible for Bashkirs to do business in a hurry, and every day it was necessary to ask the question, "Well, good friend, is it time now to discuss my business?" The guests had been eating and drinking, without exaggeration, all day and all night; but, if they were not completely satisfied with the entertainment, if they had not had enough of their monotonous singing and playing on the pipe, and their singular dances in which they stood up or crouched down on the same spot of ground, then the greatest of the chiefs, clicking his tongue and wagging his head, would answer with much dignity and without looking his questioner in the face: "The time has not come; bring us another

       sheep!" The sheep was forthcoming, as a matter of course, with fresh supplies of beer and spirits; and the tipsy Bashkirs began again

       to sing and dance, dropping off to sleep wherever they felt inclined. But everything in the world has an end; and a day came at last when the chief would look his host straight in the face and say: "We are obliged to you, batyushka,2 ever so much obliged! And now, what is it that you want?"