“Fathers and Sons” by Ivan Turgenev | The Argumentative Old Git
Bazarov clearly wishes to sweep away the assumptions and Nikolai Petrovich, Arkady's father and Bazarov's host throughout the first third of the novel, has . The narrator's connection of religion and superstition with emotion and slavish. "Arkady," shouted Bazarov's voice from the tarantass, "give me a match. .. In Baden he once more revived his former relationship with her; it seemed as though she had never before loved him so passionately C'est de la meme famille.". "Evgeny Vasilev," replied Bazarov in a lazy but steadfast voice; turning down the collar of his loose well," said Nikolai Petrovich with some concern, while Arkady had a drink of water from an iron . particular views regarding the relationship between a father and son. At my age In a [Turgenev quotes the German.
Together they visit first Arkady's father and later Bazarov's parents. The parents adore their sons and are extremely happy to have them visit, but the sons are easily bored and don't stay long. During the summer they drift apart; Arkady gives up his nihilist ideals and gets engaged.
Bazarov returns to his parents and helps his father, who is a doctor, with his practise. One day in town he assists in dissecting a peasant who has died of typhus and accidentally cuts himself, gets infected and dies soon after. The symbolic meanings of birds varies widely on both time and region, so I tried to use only the most common meanings and characteristics, that I could find on the internet. A chicken symbolises a need for shelter and protection.
Father is anxious for his son to get home, so that he can keep an eye on him again, even though his son is already big. Bazarov calls Arkady a chicken a couple of times later on. Nikolai Petrovich started watching it and then his ear caught the sound of approaching wheels.
The dove is of course a symbol of peace, and more significantly, in biblical terms: Indeed, Nikolai's mind can rest at ease, no sooner has he seen the bird, or his son arrives. Ancient Slav beliefs say that the soul of the dead goes into the dove, so the dove could also be Arkady's mother, who has died a long time ago, especially since Nikolai was just thinking of her.
Lapwings cried as they circled above the low-lying meadows or ran about silently among the tufts of grass. Rooks wandered about, darkening beautifully among the soft green of the low spring wheat and disappearing in the rye, which was already beginning to whiten, their heads showing here and there among its smoky waves. The skylark, lapwing and rook are all three strongly associated with spring in Russia, optimistic, cheerful spring. The skylark also symbolises the divine, flying up to heaven singing.
There are several sayings in rural Russia concerning the rook, and most of them are about farming.
- Fathers and Sons: Chapter 20,21,22
Nikolai has recently turned his estate into a 'farm', a company with paid employees. It is not doing very well yet. You can go and kill them, Arkady.
Fathers and Sons Study Guide | Novelguide
He uses the word 'killing', clearly he does not agree with his friend's hobby. Snipes are notoriously difficult birds to hunt, due to their erratic flight pattern. She is Nikolai's unofficial wife; Nikolai is a widower, but he now has a child with the young Fenitchka, the daughter of his former housekeeper.
He used to be an army doctor. So that surgeon is his father. A nihilist is a person who does not bow down to any authority, who does not accept any principle on faith, however much that principle may be revered. For some it is good, for others very bad. She was a young woman of about twenty-three with a soft white skin, dark hair and eyes, childishly pouting lips and plump little hands.
She wore a neat cotton dress; a new blue kerchief lay lightly over her soft shoulders. She carried a large cup of cocoa and setting it down in front of Pavel Petrovich, she was overcome with confusion; the hot blood rushed in a wave of crimson under the delicate skin of her charming face. She lowered her eyes and stood by the table slightly pressing it with her finger tips. She looked as if she were ashamed of having come in and somehow felt at the same time that she had a right to come.
Pavel Petrovich frowned and Nikolai Petrovich looked embarrassed. She had a slightly swaying walk, but that also suited her. For some minutes silence reigned on the terrace. Pavel Petrovich was sipping his cocoa; suddenly he raised his head. Bazarov was in fact approaching through the garden, striding over the flower beds. His linen coat and trousers were bespattered with mud; a clinging marsh plant was twined round the crown of his old round hat, in his right hand he held a small bag in which something alive was wriggling.
I just have to put these prisoners away. Both brothers watched him in silence, and Arkady glanced furtively from one to the other. I scared away five snipe. You might shoot them, Arkady. He was beginning to feel a concealed irritation. I expect you hold a less flattering opinion about Russian scientists. Formerly there were a few Germans here and there; well, Schiller for instance, or Goethe — my brother is particularly fond of them — but nowadays they all seem to have turned into chemists and materialists.
So you reject all that Very well. So you believe in science only? Well, and do you maintain the same negative attitude towards other traditions which have become generally accepted for human conduct? Pavel Petrovich turned a little pale. Nikolai Petrovich felt that the moment had come for him to intervene in the conversation. I heard that Liebig made some wonderful discoveries about improving the soil. You can help me in my agricultural work and give me some useful advice.
You turn into a fool straight away. You try not to forget what you have learned — and then one fine day it turns out to be all rubbish, and they tell you that experienced people have nothing to do with such nonsense, and that you, if you please, are an antiquated old simpleton.
Obviously young people are cleverer than we. But enough of him! He deserves pity rather than ridicule. The reader will find it in the following chapter. Chapter 7 Pavel Petrovich Kirsanov was educated first at home, like his younger brother, and afterwards in the Corps of Pages.
From childhood he was distinguished by his remarkable beauty; he was self-confident, rather ironical, and had a biting sense of humor; he could not fail to please people.
He began to be received everywhere directly he had obtained his commission as an officer. He was pampered by society, and indulged in every kind of whim and folly, but that did not make him any less attractive.HyperNormalisation 2016
Women went crazy about him, men called him a fop and secretly envied him. He shared a flat with his brother, whom he loved sincerely although he was most unlike him. Nikolai Petrovich was rather lame, had small, agreeable but somewhat melancholy features, little black eyes and soft thin hair; he enjoyed being lazy, but he also liked reading and was shy in society.
Pavel Petrovich did not spend a single evening at home, prided himself on his boldness and agility he was just bringing gymnastics into fashion among the young men of his setand had read in all five or six French books.
At twenty-eight he was already a captain; a brilliant career lay before him. Suddenly all that was changed. In those days there used to appear occasionally in Petersburg society a woman who has even now not been forgotten — Princess R. She had a well-educated and respectable, but rather stupid husband, and no children. She used suddenly to travel abroad and equally suddenly return to Russia, and in general she led an eccentric life. She was reputed to be a frivolous coquette, abandoned herself keenly to every kind of pleasure, danced to exhaustion, laughed and joked with young men whom she used to receive before dinner in a dimly lit drawing room, but at night she wept and said prayers, finding no peace anywhere, and often paced her room till morning, wringing her hands in anguish, or sat, pale and cold, reading a psalter.
Day came and she turned again into a lady of fashion, she went about again, laughed, chatted and literally flung herself into any activity which could afford her the slightest distraction.
She had a wonderful figure; her hair, golden in color and heavy like gold, fell below her knees, yet no one would have called her a beauty; the only striking feature in her whole face was her eyes — and even her eyes were grey and not large — but their glance was swift and deeply penetrating, carefree to the point of audacity and thoughtful to the verge of melancholy — an enigmatic glance.
Something extraordinary shone in those eyes even when her tongue was chattering the emptiest gossip. Pavel Petrovich met her at a ball, danced a mazurka with her, in the course of which she did not utter a single sensible word, and fell passionately in love with her. Accustomed to making conquests, he succeeded with her also, but his easy triumph did not damp his enthusiasm. On the contrary, he found himself in a still closer and more tormenting bondage to this woman, in whom, even when she surrendered herself without reserve, there seemed always to remain something mysterious and unattainable, to which no one could penetrate.
What was hidden in that soul — God alone knows! It seemed as if she were in the grip of some strange powers, unknown even to herself; they seemed to play with her at will and her limited mind was not strong enough to master their caprices. Sometimes this bewilderment would change suddenly into a cold horror; her face would take on a wild, deathlike expression and she would lock herself up in her bedroom; her maid, putting her ear to the keyhole, could hear her smothered sobs.
More than once, as he returned home after a tender meeting, Kirsanov felt within him that heart-rending, bitter gloom which follows the consciousness of total failure. He once gave her a ring which had a sphinx engraved in the stone. Pavel Petrovich suffered even while Princess R.
He tortured himself, he was jealous, he gave her no rest but followed her everywhere. She grew sick of his persistent pursuit of her and went abroad. He resigned from his regiment in spite of the entreaties of his friends and the advice of his superior officers, and he followed the princess abroad; four years he spent in foreign countries, at one time pursuing her, at other times trying to lose sight of her; he was ashamed of himself, he was indignant at his own lack of resolution — but nothing helped.
Her image — that incomprehensible, almost meaningless, but fascinating image — was too deeply rooted in his heart. In Baden he once more revived his former relationship with her; it seemed as though she had never before loved him so passionately. Foreseeing the inevitable separation, he wanted at least to remain her friend, as if lasting friendship with such a woman were possible.
She left Baden secretly and from that time permanently avoided meeting Kirsanov.
Fathers and Sons (novel) - Wikipedia
He returned to Russia and tried to live as before, but he could not adapt himself to his old routine. He wandered from place to place like one possessed; he still went out to parties and retained the habits of a man of the world; he could boast of two or three more conquests; but he no longer expected anything from himself or from others, and he undertook nothing new.
He grew old and grey, spending all his evenings at the club, embittered and bored — arguing indifferently in bachelor society became a necessity for him, and that was a bad sign. Of course the thought of marriage never even occurred to him. Ten years passed in this way, grey and fruitless years, but they sped by terribly quickly.
Nowhere does time fly as it does in Russia; in prison, they say, it flies even faster. One day when he was dining at his club, Pavel Petrovich heard that Princess R. She had died in Paris in a state bordering on insanity. He rose from the table and paced about the rooms for a long time, occasionally standing motionless behind the cardplayers, but he returned home no earlier than usual. A few weeks later he received a packet on which his name had been written; it contained the ring which he had given to the princess.
She had drawn lines in the shape of a cross over the sphinx and sent him a message to say that the solution of the enigma was the cross. This happened at the beginning of the yearat the same time as Nikolai Petrovich came to Petersburg after the death of his wife.
When he returned from abroad, he went to the country, intending to stay two months with his brother and to take pleasure in his happiness, but he could stand it for only a week. The difference between them was too great.
In this difference had diminished; Nikolai Petrovich had lost his wife, Pavel Petrovich had abandoned his memories; after the death of the princess he tried not to think about her. But for Nikolai there remained the feeling of a well-spent life, and his son was growing up under his eyes; Pavel, on the contrary, a lonely bachelor, was entering into that indefinite twilight period of regrets which resemble hopes and of hopes which are akin to regrets, when youth is over and old age has not yet started.
This time was harder for Pavel Petrovich than for other people, for in losing his past he lost everything he had. Now, on the contrary, if you will let me, I am ready to settle down with you for good. Once he was settled in the country, however, he would not leave it, even during those three winters which Nikolai spent in Petersburg with his son.
He began to read, chiefly in English; indeed he organized his whole life in an English manner, rarely met his neighbors and went only out to the local elections, and then he was usually silent, though he occasionally teased and alarmed landowners of the old school by his liberal sallies, and he held himself aloof from members of the younger generation. Ladies found him enchantingly romantic, but he did not cultivate the society of ladies.
What a lot of useful advice he has given me. And as for the age, why should I depend upon it? Let it rather depend on me. And what are these mysterious relations between a man and a woman? We physiologists know what they are.
You study the anatomy of the eye; and where does it come in, that enigmatic look you talk about? We had much better go and examine the beetle. The estate had only just started to be run on the new system, whose mechanism still creaked like an ungreased wheel and cracked in places like homemade furniture of raw, unseasoned wood.
Nikolai Petrovich did not lose heart but he often sighed and felt discouraged; he realized that things could not be improved without more money, and his money was almost all spent. Leaving Nikolai Petrovich in the study, he walked along the corridor which separated the front portion of the house from the back; on reaching a low door he stopped and hesitated for a moment, then, pulling at his mustache, he knocked on it.
Fenichka jumped up from the chair on which she was sitting with her baby, and putting him into the arms of a girl who at once carried him out of the room, she hastily straightened her kerchief. Now it is all very nice here. She was frightened of Pavel Petrovich; he hardly ever spoke to her. Pavel Petrovich was left alone and this time he looked round with special attention.
The small, low room in which he found himself was very clean and cosy. It smelt of the freshly painted floor and of camomile flowers. Along the walls stood chairs with lyre-shaped backs, bought by the late General Kirsanov in Poland during a campaign; in one corner was a little bedstead under a muslin canopy alongside a chest with iron clamps and a curved lid.
In the opposite corner a little lamp was burning in front of a big, dark picture of St. A cage containing a short-tailed canary hung on a long cord from the ceiling; he constantly chirped and hopped about, and the cage kept on swinging and shaking, while hemp seeds fell with a light tap onto the floor.
On the wall just above a small chest of drawers hung some rather bad photographs of Nikolai Petrovich taken in various positions; there, too, was a most unsuccessful photograph of Fenichka; it showed an eyeless face smiling with effort in a dingy frame — nothing more definite could be distinguished — and above Fenichka, General Yermolov, in a Caucasian cloak, scowled menacingly at distant mountains, from under a little silk shoe for pins which fell right over his forehead.
Five minutes passed; a sound of rustling and whispering could be heard in the next room. The door opened and Fenichka came in with Mitya in her arms. She bad dressed him in a little red shirt with an embroidered collar, had combed his hair and washed his face; he was breathing heavily, his whole body moved up and down, and he waved his little hands in the air as all healthy babies do; but his smart shirt obviously impressed him and his plump little person radiated delight.
Fenichka had also put her own hair in order and rearranged her kerchief; but she might well have remained as she was. Indeed, is there anything more charming in the world than a beautiful young mother with a healthy child in her arms? Pavel Petrovich turned hurriedly round with a frown on his face, but his brother looked at him with such delight and gratitude that he could not help responding to his smile.
A priest, Father Aleksey, joins them for dinner. Arina sits by Bazarov and watches him playing cards. Vasily is very hurt because Bazarov has only been home three days after being away for three years. Bazarov does not show any emotion or regret After Bazarov and Arkady leave, Vasily sits down in his chair and lowers his head He comforts his wife, holding her in his arms.
Analysis Arkady and Bazarov still disagree on some issues, and they almost get into a fight. The tension between the various relationships in this chapter is like the glue to which Bazarov refers in talking about his father. The characters must come to terms with what is inside of them before they can have a relationship with one another, and we can sense once again a foreshadowing of the climax.
Bazarov tells his father very nonchalantly that he is leaving the next day.
The final scene represents a generation that is lost in its own sorrow and one that cannot keep up with the changes that are happening in their present Russian society. Bazarov has absolutely no remorse or pity or compassion for his parents. They are unwelcomed, so they only stay a few hours.