University.
Gogol has embodied some criticisms on his play, and views on comedy in general, in his Teatralni Razyezd, or Departure from the Theatre. In this piece the author, after being concealed in the foyer, soliloquises on the different and not always complimentary opinions passed on his play by the audience at the close of the performance. "I overheard more than I expected," he says. " So they complain that there is not a single honest character in the piece. Well, at any rate, honest ridicule is present throughout." The state of his feelings may also be gathered from some extracts which I translate freely from a letter of his to Pushkin, written shortly after the first representation—.
"... The Revizor has been played, but I am perplexed and distressed about it.... My creation seemed strange and foreign to me. The principal part was a failure, as I expected. Durr (the actor) had not the faintest conception of Khlestakov's personality. He gave us a farcical scapegrace borrowed from the Paris theatres—he was the hackneyed liar who has appeared on our stage in exactly the same costume for the last two centuries. Cannot the character of Khlestakov be divined from his part ? Have I in my self-conceit so lamentably failed to give indications for the actor's guidance? Yet I thought it was clear enough. Khlestakov is not an intentional impostor, or a liar by profession; he forgets that he is telling falsehoods, and almost believes what he is saying. His spirits rise, as he finds he is a success he becomes expansive, poetic, inspired. How much of that, pray, was expressed ? Why, not a bit of recognisable individuality did poor Khlestakov exhibit. . . . As a matter of fact, he is one of a set of not very distinguished young people, who sometimes behave well and talk sensibly. It is only in exceptional circumstances that his mean and insignificant nature is revealed. . . . In a word, he is a combination of many different Russian types. We all are, or have been, Khlestakovs only we don't care to admit it. We prefer to laugh at the failing in other people. The smart cavalry officer, the man of state, even the literary sinner, have all, for once in their lives at least, played the part. . . .
"On the opening night I felt uncomfortable from the very first as I sat in the theatre. Anxiety for the approval of the audience did not trouble me. There was only one critic in the house—myself—that I feared. I heard clamorous objections within me which drowned all else. However, the public, as a whole, was satisfied. Half of the audience praised the play, the other half condemned it, but not on artistic grounds. What they said I will tell you on our next meeting. Their criticisms were partly instructive and partly absurd. . . .
"When played, I noticed that the beginning of the fourth act was tame. It seemed that the action dragged, after developing with sufficient rapidity. So, on my return home, I at once reconstructed this act.[4] As it now stands, I think it has gained in force—or at any rate, in truth to nature.
"One word more, about the last scene. It was a hopeless failure. The curtain hung for an awful minute, and the play did not seem properly ended. It was not my fault. The final scene will never be a success until it is rendered simply as a tableau vivant. . . . But I was told that to do so would be to limit the actors' powers, that a ballet- master would be wanted, that their dignity would suffer, etc., etc. What these etceteras were I gathered from their looks, which were more unpleasantly expressive than their language. All the same, I stick to my opinion, and repeat it a hundred times over. The restrictions of a tableau vivant do not bar the exercise of histrionic talent any more than banks impede a river, which, on the contrary, gains in rapidity and volume by flowing between them. . . . There is a great variety of ways in which to express speechless amazement. The alarm of the different characters varies with their degree of guilt and the elasticity of their consciences. Each should carry out his role to a consistent end. They can remain great actors, though they may have to submit to the directions of a ballet-master.
"But I have not strength enough to fuss and wrangle further. I am tired out in body and mind. I swear, no one knows or can believe the sufferings I have undergone. I am sick of my play, and long to hurry off—God knows where! Only a steamer-voyage and a change of scene can cure me. Heaven only knows how I thirst for them I For God's sake, come and see me soon. I will not start without bidding you good-bye. There are still many things to discuss which I cannot tell you in a dull and tiresome letter. , . .
"St. Petersburg, May 25th, 1836."
With regard to the translation of the play, it remains to add that the contracted forms of rapid conversational English are employed throughout, in accordance with stage usage. Ungrammatical and slang renderings are occasionally given, to correspond with the uneducated jtyle of some of the characters. A free use of italics was also necessary, to indicate the proper emphasis, and to give the force of some of the untranslatable Russian particles. To avoid stiff- ness, the second person singular (ti) is replaced by the English you. Certain Russian phrases and terms are perhaps more effective than their English equivalents, and I have accordingly retained them, with due explanation. It is hoped that the present version, without being slavishly literal, has kept as close to the original as the difference of the two spoken idioms will permit. The notes at the end are on points in connection with the play which seem to call for extended comment. I have occasionally referred to well-known authorities, such as Kovalevski, Reiff, and Leroy-Beaulieu, and wish especially to acknowledge the assistance and information afforded me by Mr. A. F. Litvinoff. In conclusion, the frontispiece is a line-drawing taken from two sources—the 1841 portrait by F. Moller, and a rather more flattering likeness published by Wesenberg & Co., St. Petersburg.
Footnotes
1 ↑ His last fable, The Velmozha (Grandee), was published in 1843. It described a faineant magnate as being sent to Paradise on the ground that he would only have done mischief if he had concerned himself with the duties of government. This satire on the authorities was accordingly pigeon-holed by the censors. Krilov, however, found means of reading it to the Tsar Nicholas, who was greatly amused, and embraced him, with the words, "Write away, old man, write away! He died, however, the following year.
2 ↑ The word gogol is the Russian name for the "golden-eye," a kind of wild duck (fuligula clangula) called in German die Schelle Ente from the bell-like sound of its flight.
3 ↑ Literally, beyond tinthe porogi, the granite ledges or rapids of the Dniepr. The Zaporozhtst were so called to distinguish them from the Cossacks of the Don, and of the Yaik, or Ural. They formed originally a military republic, with their Syech (head-quarters), on an island at the confluence of the Dniepr and the Samara, below Yekaterinoslav. Disbanded in 1777, they emigrated to Turkey and the Caucasus. Gogol's father at one time held the honorary post of Military Secretary to the Zaporozhian Cossacks.
4 ↑ Gogol excised two scenes from Act IV., one a dialogue between Anna and Marya, the other between Khlestakov and Rastakovski.
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