The Birth and Evolution of the Superfluous Man in 19th Century Russian Literature

19th Century Russian Society A period of immense transition for

Russian society, the 19th century redefined the Russian culture and perspective on life. Under the rule of Nikolai I during the early 1800s, Russian society experienced the full embodiment of autocracy, as well as severe reaction

By Steve Heller

ary policies of strict rule and censorship that hearkened back to the final years of Alexander I, Nikolai’s older brother and former Tsar of Russia. In the second half of his reign, Alexander I had become weary of revolt, ending many of his early reforms. Nikolai I’s rule, heavily influenced by his older brother’s policies, was also impacted by the events of his first day in power. In an unsuccessful uprising that would come to be known as the Decembrist Revolt, thousands of protesters occupied the streets on December 26, 1825, exclaiming demands of a constitution and representative government (Riasanovsky, 19). From the very beginning of his reign, Nikolai I had ingrained in his mind the necessity of restraining Russian society in order to avoid losing his power and control. He accomplished this control through the implementation of excessive censorship in publishing, along with strict government over all aspects of public life. Ending many of the educational reforms implemented during the start of his brother’s rule, Nikolai I established a centralization of education and knowledge in Russia. During this time, Russians saw no local autonomy, very little industrialization, especially seen in railways, and an increased repression among all classes (Riasanovsky, 39). Nikolai I’s reign exemplified the parallels of an unquestioned compliance to the Church, and the regime’s absolute subjugation of the common man. The Tsar wielded his power to impose a sense of order, in accordance with the Church, giving his people strict roles in Russian society. Feeding his citizens a crutch to continually withstand until their time had passed, Nikolai I imposed distinct roles on his people in an attempt to neutralize threats of revolt. Unlike Nikolai I, whose autocratic rule had seen the Russian empire grow to its greatest physical scope, his eldest son, Alexander II, would implement the most influential institutional reforms experienced in Russia since Peter the Great. Taking the position of emperor in 1855 after the death of his father, Alexander II ruled with a strong condemnation of the backward and reactionary policy of his father. Alexander II's most significant and everlasting reform as emperor was the emancipation of Russian serfs in 1861, which granted him the title of Alexander the Liberator (Whittaker, 237). In addition, Alexander enacted several reforms including the reorganization of the judicial system, the establishment of elected local judges, the abolishment of corporal punishment,

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and the promotion of a representative, local government. He limited the privileges of the aristocracy and promoted university education. During the first half of Alexander II’s rule, Russian society had established a foundation for an emergence into capitalism and further industrialization. His early years of power held a significant emphasis on a diversion from Russia’s past with a societal change among his people (Riasanovsky, 43). Throughout his childhood, Alexander II had developed an aspiration to transform the future of Russia. Although he did not come into power until 1855, Alexander II represented a changing Russian society. Fully inaugurated in the latter half of the 19th century with the abolishment of serfdom, the new age of Russia had taken its position and began the implementation of new ideals. These new ideas, born much earlier during the youth of these future “liberators” of Russia, led to the emergence of a new type of Russian man. Birth of Man C omposed of two periods of differing identification of Russian society, the 19th century was an incredibly influential time of change. This period gave rise to a type of man whose only perception of the world, adopted from his life in childhood and youth, had now become foreign. Known as the “superfluous man,” this man experienced an inability to find a grounding and a part in this new Russia. He merely lingered in a state from which his life was in the presence of a changing world, while his mind remained in the memory of previous ideals. This type of man in 19th century Russian society adopted an “unhappy consciousness,” as described by Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, a late 18th and early 19th century German philosopher. In “Phenomenology of the Spirit,” Hegel describes the “unhappy consciousness” as one divided between itself and the universal world in which it lives (Hegel, 16). From the creation of thought and ideas, Hegel begins with an abstract conscious that has become an aware individual, describing it as "a being that thinks or is a free self-consciousness" (Hegel, 32). This self-awareness brings the consciousness to recognize a duality between itself, the individual, and the world it exists in, the universal. The individual surrenders its freedom to the universal by working with the natural world in an attempt to be one with it. However, the unhappy consciousness recognizes its alienation from both the individual and the universal incapable of becoming a part of this universality. It establishes itself as a fluctuation between the two, perceiving its existence as meaningless. Hegel defines this fluctuation as a state between universal truth and being a component of the truth, in which the unhappy consciousness declares a nothingness from its existence (Hegel, 62). In regard to the identification of the Russian empire under Alexander I, Nikolai I, and Alexander II, some members of society failed to assimilate to the changing age and were incapable of finding a role in the world as an individual. This societal clash between the old and the new created a fragmented man and became a core illustration in Russian literature in the mid-19th century; Russian literature examined this man and, furthermore, demystified his place in the world throughout the century by creating the concept of a “superfluous man.” The First Taste of the Unhappy Consciousness W ith his play Woe from Wit, Alexander Griboedov became the first Russian author to examine a character perceived to be lost in the world. Through his character, Chatsky, he paved the path for the future of Russian literature. Griboedov’s play begins as the audience learns that Alexander Chatsky, a young man from a noble family, has been away for some time and recently returned to his former society. Upon his return to his home in Moscow, he hopes to reconnect with a young woman from his childhood named Sophia. However, Chatsky learns that Sophia has fallen in love with another man named Aleksey Molchalin, and finds himself angry and dissatisfied about what had changed since he left Moscow. Chatsky publicly ridicules foreign influence, especially the French, and is agitated by his continual inability to be a part of this changed society (Griboedov, scene 14). Perhaps his societal group has not even changed, but rather, only Chatsky’s perception of the reality of his society has changed. By the end of Woe from Wit, Chatsky is perceived to be going mad; he is driven to return to the values treasured so preciously in his memories of childhood with Sophia. Eventually, Chatsky declares that he has no belonging among any of his peers, choosing to leave Moscow for good (Griboedov, scene 14). In Griboedov’s work, the reader experiences the gradual revelation of the unfitting The individual surrenders its freedom to the universal by working with the natural world in an attempt to be one with it. However, the unhappy consciousness recognizes its alienation from both the individual and the universal incapable of becoming a part of this universality.

nature of Chatsky. Chatsky is the first glance of Hegel’s unhappy consciousness in Russian literature and the introduction of his philosophy into Russian society. A man of incredible intelligent and cleverness, Chatsky inevitably becomes aware of a continual increase in separation from his own society. He finds himself disgusted with his peers and is forced to retreat, alone, from the shallowness of society that he has unveiled in his mind (Giergielewicz, 17). However, Chatsky has genuine intentions for a connection among his Russian peers, as witnessed in his quest to seek acknowledgment from Sophia. The fighting nature of Chatsky’s soul against his society ultimately detracts him from being a true superfluous man. Although unable to be defined as a completely meaningless being, Griboedov’s Chatsky in his Woe from Wit establishes a man with a will unfit for his own home, which later Russian literature of the nineteenth century further develops. The First Man C ontinuing along the foundations of Griboedov, Alexander Pushkin creates a character who falls victim to a perceived removal from Russian society in his novel in verse, “Evgeni Onegin.” Rather than explaining the formation of a man like Chatsky in Russian society, Pushkin begins his work from where Griboedov had ended. At the start of the novel in verse, Pushkin unveils Onegin’s superior appearance and intelligence, along with a self-aware shallowness that hearkens back to Chatsky’s ending characterization. For instance, in the description of Onegin’s childhood, the audience learns how easy it was for Onegin to touch upon anything without much effort and with a “scholarly guise of an expert.” Onegin could express himself in perfect French and effortlessly bowed having easily danced the mazurka (Pushkin, book III, stanza V). In the eyes of the high society, Onegin is viewed as a very pleasant, intelligent young man. However, Pushkin quickly retorts that for Onegin, “the noise of the high society bored him,” and “acts of unfaithfulness managed to tire him/friends and friendships had become boring” (Pushkin, XXVII). Onegin is the continuation of Griboedov’s Chatsky, developed even further with his “languishing sloth” (Pushkin, XXVII). Pushkin extends the significant aspects of the superfluous man as he describes Onegin’s destructive impact on another soul, contrasting with Chatsky’s final action of a disappearance from Russian society. Ultimately, Evgeni Onegin encompasses the emergence of a true superfluous man, a soul incapable of possessing a form in the world. After Pushkin’s introduction of Evgeni Onegin’s childhood, Onegin arrives in a charming village, which he, unsurprisingly, views as a bore. While staying in the village, he catches the eye of the beautiful Tatiana. A young girl with a grandiose sense of romanticism, Tatiana falls in love with Onegin after only having glimpsed him for a brief moment. She decides to write him a confession of her love (Gelder, 313). After receiving Tatiana’s letter, Onegin meets his admirer in a garden where he responds to her “soul’s trusting confession” (Pushkin, book III, stanza II). In this scene, Pushkin fully depicts the essence of a superfluous man as he describes Onegin’s place in society. The superfluous man, albeit understanding the beauty in the conformities of society, is fully cognizant of his alienation and inability to conform. Onegin relates to Tatiana his imaginings of a pleasantly-commanded fate as a father and spouse, fantasizing of family portraits and choosing Tatiana as his companion. However, Onegin continues to say, “But I am not created for bliss/To it my soul is alien/In vain are your perfections/And I don’t deserve them at.” Pushkin furthers Onegin’s characterization as a superfluous man as he adds, “No matter how much I would have loved you/Having been accustomed, I’ll stop loving you immediately/You will start to cry; your tears/will not touch my heart/but only annoy it” (Pushkin, Book III, Stanza XIV). Onegin professes that he is completely aware of that which makes life beautiful, but speaks to the inevitability of becoming bored as a spouse. In harshly-delivered words that show no empathy for Tatiana, Onegin conveys that he does not desire those beautiful, integral parts of life sanctioned by society such as marriage; in fact, he does not desire them at all. Evgeni Onegin is a man who had attracted a beautiful, virtuous, trusting soul, but nonetheless remains possessed by an emptiness that can do nothing but pollute its intrinsic purity. Every nobleman in Russian society dreamed of Tatiana, but Onegin’s failure to generate a mutual love, an intrinsic nature of all humanity, directly caused the suffering of this beloved, angelic soul. From that moment, Tatiana learned to be more aware of men like Onegin who are unable to partake in everlasting, unconditional love. According to Onegin, Tatiana never felt as much admiration for another person as she expressed for Onegin. Years after their initial meeting, Onegin’s belated, desperate proposal to Tatiana symbolizes his failed search to find a place of meaning after he declined Tatiana’s love. Tatiana rejects Onegin’s proposal just as society rejects Onegin upon understanding his true essence, for both Tatiana and Russian society understand his potential to harm. By the end of his life, Onegin is left with the same perspective of life with which the novel began; he remains bored and The superfluous man, albeit understanding the beauty in the conformities of society, is fully cognizant of his alienation and inability to conform.

uninterested in society, only ever succeeding in inflicting needless suffering on an innocent young woman. Continuing where Griboedov’s Chatsky left off, Pushkin created a man of an idle, meaningless, wasted existence and introduced this man’s destruction unto others. This opened the gates for Russian authors to continue this examination of a superfluous man as the 19th century progressed.

The Destruction of the Wandering Soul A lthough troubling in his languishing sloth and perceived inhumanity, Evgeni Onegin’s embodiment of a superfluous man does not rival that of the disturbingly damaging soul brought into conception by Mikhail Lermontov’s Pechorin in Hero of Our Time. Pechorin holds the same sour, spiteful view towards society as Onegin; however, Pechorin breaks into the superfluous man’s mobility, his path leaving a trace of ruination. Lermontov amplifies the aspect of alienation within Pechrin, choosing to forgo the common introduction of heroes in Russian literature. While Pushkin uses the first chapter of his novel to describe Onegin’s upbringing and establish his growing distaste towards the high society, Lermontov ensures that the audience knows nothing about Pechorin’s past. The manner in which Lermontov reveals Pechorin’s character, similar to the manner in which Pechorin introduces himself to others in the novel, casts a mysterious and dark aura onto the character. In the chapter, “Maksim Maksimych,” the reader learns about Pechorin through the lens of a narrator who describes Pechorin’s eyes as though “they never laughed when he laughed. Have you not happened, yourself, to notice the same peculiarity in certain people? It is a sign either of an evil disposition or of profound and constant sorrow” (Lermontov, 99). Pechorin is eerie, and his alienation is established in his introduction to the audience. Nobody knows the location of Pechorin’s home, and it seems that not even Pechorin knows; he continues to move throughout the novel in search for a place to call his own, both physically as a shelter and figurately in society. As seen in “Taman,” “Princess Mary,” and “The Fatalist,” Pechorin roams his world in a constant state of motion, with no insight on the purpose for such travel. He is never at rest, never at ease; he only has one truth: Pechorin is a fragmented soul wandering in the world with no guide. Pechorin’s itinerant way of life encapsulates Hegel’s idea of an “unhappy consciousness” that establishes itself in this fluctuation of physical locations; Hegel describes the fluctuation between a universal truth, and a component of truth. Even within the format of the novel, Lermontov breaks and jumps from chapter to chapter, with no clear distinction of how much time has passed. This lack of chronological grounding contributes to the mysteriousness and aimlessness of Pechorin’s actions. In Chapter 5, “The Third Extract from Pechorin’s Diary,” the audience gains insight into the depths of Pechorin’s mind. While speaking with Pechorin, Princess Mary refers to him as a dangerous man, stating that she would, “rather perish in the woods under the knife of an assassin than under [his] tongue.” Pechorin responds with a confession of his true self, proclaiming:

“I was prepared to love the whole world—no one understood me: I learned to hate. My colorless youth flowed by in conflict with myself and the world; fearing ridicule, I buried my best feelings in the depths of my heart, and there they died. I spoke the truth—I was not believed: I began to deceive. Having acquired a thorough knowledge of the world and the springs of society, I grew skilled in the science of life; and I saw how others without skill were happy, enjoying gratuitously the advantages which I so unweariedly sought. Then despair was born within my breast— not that despair which is cured at the muzzle of a pistol, but the cold, powerless despair concealed beneath the mask of amiability and a good-natured smile. I became a moral cripple. One half of my soul ceased to exist; it dried up, evaporated, died, and I cut it off and cast it from me. The other half moved and lived—at the service of all; but it remained unobserved, because no one knew that the half which had perished had ever existed. But, now, the memory of it has been awakened within me by you, and I have read you its epitaph” (Lermontov, 241).

This is one of the most powerful and significant moments of Lermontov’s novel with reference to the superfluous man. Just as Pechorin awakens the memory of the dead half of his soul to Princess Mary, Lermontov awakens society to the inner dimensions of this lost man. The audience learns that Pechorin secretly possesses a strong intellectual tendency toward introspection. Due to his superior intellect, Pechorin recognizes that his taste of satisfaction does not parallel that of any other man. Unable to gain acceptance from others, he becomes decidedly alienated from the rest of society. Pechorin dedicates himself to imparting destruction onto those blissfully ignorant of his capabilities, inflicting pain and suffering as a substitute for true emotional fulfillment and purpose. In this manner, Lermontov’s superfluous man has developed from the sluggish will of Onegin, adopting a more sophisticated intellect in regards to its own soul and embracing darkness due to the absence of light received from others. Lermontov depicts a superfluous man who dedicates himself to nothing, governed only by the incomprehensible impulses of existence as he punishes those souls who mistakenly cross his path.

The Ultimate Embodiement of the Superfluous Man A lthough Lermontov’s Pechorin and Pushkin’s Onegin are unquestionably regarded as strong compositions of the “superfluous man,” Ivan Goncharov’s Oblomov encapsulates the final product of this archetype’s evolution in nineteenth-century Russian literature. In his novel, Goncharov describes an indecisive man, unable to take any meaningful action in his life. Goncharov’s character, Oblomov, exists physically in a changed world but mentally in the memories of his past. Raised in a family of high class and stature, he never needed to work to support his family. He existed in a blissful childhood, retaining only memories of joy and ease. As a grown man, Oblomov finds incredible difficulty in completing any action, and for most of the novel, he does not move from his bed. Even though his childhood estate is in financial distress, Oblomov fails to gather the motivation to journey to his home and take actions to solve his problems (Goncharov, 14). Rather than acting in the present and bringing meaning to his life, he spends most of his time living in his thoughts and dreams, attempting to return to his childhood existence. As a foil for this listless character, Goncharov introduces Oblomov’s friend, Andrey Stolz. Stolz possesses an impeccable sense of independence and self-worth; originating from a middle-class family, he has found success as a wealthy, respectable businessman. Unlike Oblomov, Stolz adapts to the ever-changing society. He has pity for Oblomov and strives to improve his friend’s life, introducing him to his acquaintance Olga in the hopes that a new love will encourage Oblomov to engage more with reality. Life is composed of a series of changing states; from birth to youth to adulthood to old age, human souls must choose to learn how to move with the world, or else their existence cannot continue. The soul dies where it decides to wallow, just as a man in a grave remains paralyzed as the society above him continues to walk. Fearing for his friend’s absence of desires, Stolz hopes a companion such as Olga can lead Oblomov to grow with her. Ultimately, Oblomov and Olga develop a mutual, loving relationship for one another. At the end of chapter four, Oblomov expresses awareness of his inert, empty soul and Olga’s completeness, proclaiming, “Only through you can I breathe or feel or see... Without you everything is wearisome and distasteful. I feel like a machine; I walk and act without knowing ever what I am doing. Yes, I am like a machine whereof only you are the fuel, the motive power” (Goncharov, 100). With this declaration, Goncharov portrays Oblomov as entirely aware of his soul’s shallowness, realizing that after several years of his adulthood he has created nothing for himself. Unlike the prior portrayals of the superfluous man in nineteenth-century Russian literature, Oblomov both is enamored with a woman and seemingly feels a desire to change. Both Onegin and Pechorin possessed an intense self-intellect, yet professed that their character may never change. Unable to reshape their interpretation of society, these men can only float uselessly in the world until their death. As the chapter concludes, Goncharov conveys a fear to the audience that Oblomov’s loafing nature may override his genuine love as Oblomov proposes a delay to marriage. Although optimistic for the development of Oblomov’s soul, Goncharov entirely dispels those former fantasies of change in the beginning of the following chapter. Oblomov proves that he is, in fact, no different than Onegin or Pechorin, and, in fact, an even deeper manifestation of the two. Oblomov proves his soul’s inability to grow and causes the termination of his relationship with Olga. As Oblomov continues to create excuses to delay their marriage, Olga professes her fear that his aversion to change will never end. She asks him if he can stand by her his entire life “and be to [her] all that [she] needs,” telling Oblomov that “should you return a bold, a considered ‘Yes,’ I will cancel a certain decision of mine—I will give you my hand” (Goncharov, 101). Olga gives Oblomov the opportunity for marriage if he is capable of proving action; however, Oblomov’s weak and crippled soul fails to respond. Olga has no choice but to leave. In her departure, she describes to Oblomov that his only future is to: “retire to rest each night with a sigh of thankfulness that the day had passed so quickly; and each morning you would have awakened with a prayer that today might be exactly as yesterday. That would have been our future. Is it not so? Meanwhile I should have been fading away. Do you really think that in such a life you would have been happy? (Goncharov, 101)” In these few pages, Goncharov delineates the context of the superfluous man in nineteenth-century Russian society. Olga represents the Russian society which, similar to Stolz, has a drive to grow from the past and remodel themselves to fit into the changing culture. Oblomov, on the other hand, represents individuals bound Serving as a catalyst to the end of his own existence, this man buries his shallow soul into a hole of familiarity, which exacerbates his meaninglessness. While being depraved of such a man, society can successfully carry out its drive to move forward and be a part of the new age.

to the old socioeconomic ideals and fearful of change. When faced with the inhibitions of those men who cannot obtain a role in “the future,” society recognizes the necessity to disregard such a man and alienate him from their ranks. Serving as a catalyst to the end of his own existence, this man buries his shallow soul into a hole of familiarity, which exacerbates his meaninglessness. While being depraved of such a man, society can successfully carry out its drive to move forward and be a part of the new age. Goncharov epitomizes the nature and identification of the superfluous man within Russian society at the end of his novel, in which Oblomov eventually marries his landlady, Agafia (Goncharov, 125). This marriage stems not from aspirations of growth and change, but instead solidifies Oblomov’s retreat into his past and memories of childhood. Oblomov spends the rest of his life being cared for by Agafia, successfully shaping his dreams of his paradisiacal childhood into his reality. By the end of his life, Oblomov’s existence had amounted to the same level of meaninglessness from which his soul had originated. Conclusion F rom Griboedov’s Woe from Wit to Goncharov’s Oblomov, nineteenth-century Russian literature comprehensively explored the birth and development of a new man in Russian society. A “superfluous man” emerged from the shifting societal and cultural ideals of the era, in which Russian society empathetically rejected the backwardness of Nikolai I’s reign. The characters of Chatsky, Onegin, Pechorin, and Oblomov all progress from one another, encompassing the archetype of a charismatic, sophisticated, and incredibly intellectual man who finds himself bored and cynical of his societal peers. Although categorized as a group as the originators of the superfluous man, each author discussed above represented a different period of Russian history, just as each character encapsulated a different stage of this lost man along his path to existence. During the 1820s and 1830s, this man was seemingly pitied in the works of Pushkin and Griboedov. A famous critic and journalist of the 19th century, Nikolay Dobroliubov, commented on the interpretation of the early superfluous man, stating that “fate dealt with them ruthlessly,” (Kahn, 95). Characters such as Alexander Chatsky and Evgeni Onegin had studied diligently and performed in accordance to their respective societies of nobility for the entirety of their upbringing. Shifting societal norms completely altered everything these men had perceived as important, forcing Onegin and Chatsky to proclaim life itself as frivolous. In Evgeni Onegin, Pushkin proclaims that what Onegin knew, “harder than all sciences,” was the “science of tender passion” (Pushkin, book I, stanza XXXV). Instead of implying an embrace of such science, Pushkin describes a knowledge and understanding so great as to drive Onegin towards unhappiness. “Finally, he stopped loving,” Pushkin writes; “Nothing touched him/he did not take notice of anything” (Pushkin, book I, stanza XXXVII). Onegin did not choose this apathy; rather, his disregard for societal norms stemmed from a greater understanding of the very society in which he played a part. This sympathetic portrayal of Onegin derives from Pushkin’s use of a narrator who found Onegin’s strangeness and “sharp, child mind” favorable; “[they] had both known the game of passions/ life tormented both of [them]” (Pushkin, book II, stanza XLV). In this manner, Pushkin invites the audience into the depth of Onegin’s composition with a peer and not in solitude. During the time of Pushkin’s publication of Evgeni Onegin, Russian society interpreted the superfluous man depicted by Onegin as a victim of unfortunate circumstances. As the century progressed, a better understanding of this archetype developed among Russian readers. Dobroliubov contradicts his original perspective in his later article, “What is Oblomovism?,” describing Oblomov not as a new man in Russian literature, but rather a simpler and more natural form of the same man as introduced into Russian literature by Pushkin. Goncharov presents the skeleton of the superfluous man developed from Griboedov and Pushkin and extremized in Lermontov’s Pechorin. In his critique, Dobroliubov infers that Oblomov, along with similar men of the era, had brought their negative character traits upon themselves (Dobroliubov, 344). Beginning with the events of Oblomov’s childhood, Dobroliubov states that “[Oblomov] becomes accustomed with lolling about at an early age… If Ilya Ilyich wants anything, he has only to make a sign – and at once three or four servants rush to carry out his wishes.” Dobroliubov asserts, “It would be wrong to think that nature has deprived him of the ability to move of his own volition” (Dobroliubov, 344). Rather, the superfluous man in Russian society brought his inertness upon himself, leashing his soul to a shallow purposelessness. From the repressive Although categorized as a group as the originators of the superfluous man, each author discussed above represented a different period of Russian history, just as each character encapsulated a different stage of this lost man along his path to existence.

reign of Nikolai I, society encapsulated a lavish, effortless aristocracy to which Russians felt pressured to conform. Mirroring the differences between Nikolai I and Alexander II, the defiant, new generation of youth, having once been children indoctrinated by a constricted, repressive policy, endorsed nothing but movement. Alexander II provided the most opportunity for movement along the social and idealistic ladder; if a man could not attain a new position in life, as described in the characters of Onegin, Pechorin, and Oblomov, he had no one but himself to blame. These characters exemplified inert, meaningless souls unwilling to ground their mind into the new soil that Russia now cultivated. The world walks away from Russian literature in the 19th century understanding that the superfluous man will continue to be born in the world as long as society continues to change; Russian literature of the 19th century awakened the world to understand these half-dead souls who wallow about, constricting the growth of society and damaging the innocent souls with their deception.

Dobroliubov, Nikolai. “What Is Oblomovism?.” Sovremennik, 1859, pp. 343–352, https://www.amherst.edu/media/view/297815/ original/Dobroliubov.pdf. Hegel, Georg Wilhelm Friedrich, et al. The Phenomenology of Spirit. Cambridge University Press, 2019. Goncharov, Ivan Aleksandrovich, and Charles Deulin. Oblomov. Cre ateSpace, 2015. Gelder, Ann. “Wandering in Exile: Byron and Pushkin.” Comparative Literature, vol. 42, no. 4, 1990, pp. 319–334. JSTOR, www. jstor.org/stable/1770706. Giergielewicz, Mieczysław. “Structural Footnotes to Griboedov’s ‘Woe From Wit.’” The Polish Review, vol. 24, no. 1, 1979, pp. 3–21. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/25777633. Griboedov, A. Woe From Wit. Book On Demand LTD, 2018. Lermontov, Mikhail. Hero of Our Time. Penguin, 1987. Pushkin, Aleksandr Sergeevich, and Vladimir Vladimirovich Nabokov. Eugene Onegin: A Novel in Verse. Princeton University Press, 1981. Riasanovsky, Nicholas V. “‘Nationality’ in the State Ideology during the Reign of Nicholas I.” The Russian Review, vol. 19, no. 1, 1960, pp. 38–46. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/126191. Seeley, Frank Friedeberg. “Oblomov.” The Slavonic and East European Review, vol. 54, no. 3, 1976, pp. 335–354. JSTOR, www.jstor. org/stable/4207297. Whittaker, Cynthia H. “Government and Elite in 19th Century Russia.” History of Education Quarterly, vol. 20, no. 2, 1980, pp. 233–240. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/367917.

Steve Heller is from New Jersey and is currently a Junior double majoring in Russian and Eastern European Studies (REES) and Finance. He has taken Russian Language or Russian Literature courses each semester at Emory, and feels fortunate to be taught by such an experienced and dedicated faculty. Emory is incredibly lucky to have such a brilliant program where the instructors have illuminated their life passions to their students, inspiring them to be great no matter what the students choose to do in their lives.