My Reading Life: Or How I went from Reading Turgenev to Reading MannThe pattern of our reading lives can be as comfortable and predictable as everyday life or as creative and thought provoking as the books we read. Take my own case: I often mosey along well worn tracks quite happily, certain of finding familiar works which will be both pleasurable and rewarding. Then, suddenly, a detail will intrigue me and before I know it, I’ve been propelled sideways onto an undiscovered trail which inevitably, after a little time will lead to yet another, und so weiter. If I tried to capture the pattern of my reading experience on paper, it would look like the most 'fantastic' map, criss-crossing the continents and frequently travelling backwards through time, more akin to the realms of fiction than to any map of the world as we know it. If any proof were needed of the magic of the reading life, this is it.I fell upon the Turgenev trail because I came across a reference to a character called Insarov in William Trevor’s beautiful novella, Reading Turgenev and I was sufficiently intrigued to take that sideways leap. Thinking Insarov to be a character in Turgenev’s Fathers and Sons, I immediately delved into that book and enjoyed the experience but failed to find Insarov or any tangible parallels with Trevor’s work. I did find vague echoes of another book I’d been reading called Solace in which mention was made of the nineteenth century writer, Maria Edgeworth. The connection lay in the fact that Ms Edgeworth was a correspondent of Turgenev’s; they were both interested in education and agrarian reform, themes to be found in Fathers and Sons. So Trevor had sent me back to a reread of Edgeworth’s Castle Rackrent, via Solace and Fathers and Sons and my little sidestep had returned me to one of my favourite trails, Anglo-Irish literature. But I still hadn’t found Insarov or figured out a satisfactory connection between Trevor and Turgenev.Reading Turgenev, a quiet little story set in rural Ireland is presented along with another Trevor novella called My House in Umbria in a volume called Two Lives. I had understood that the two novellas were packaged together for publishing purposes rather than having been originally conceived to be read side by side. However, when I’d read both I noticed some definite correspondences between them: the female protagonists of both stories, Mary Louise and Emily, had each experienced life changing events in their early twenties and their methods of dealing with these events, while quite different, nevertheless involved a withdrawal from the real world, one, though psychosis, the other, through the creation of fictional worlds. I wasn’t entirely sure if Trevor intended these parallels to be remarked upon or if I had merely forced them into a correspondence to suit a logic of my own. I hoped that perhaps Turgenev might provide the clues that Trevor had withheld so I set out once more in search of Insarov and began to read On the EveWhile reading this rather philosophical tale, it occurred to me that it could very well be subtitled, Two Lives. It mainly concerns the very different lives of a young Russian girl, Elena Stahov from a comfortable bourgeois family, and that of a Bulgarian student and idealist, Dmitri Insarov, determined to sacrifice his life for his country’s freedom. The first half of the book takes place in a quiet rural setting, the second half in Italy, and again the Two Lives comparison is relevant as Elena’s former life in Russia comes to a complete end once she travels to Italy and a new, and very different life begins there. There is a traumatic event in Venice which results in Elena withdrawing from public life towards a sort of physical and psychological exile not unlike the destinies of Mary Louise and Emily from Two Lives. So, at the end of my journey towards reading On the Eve, I had hit on the pattern I had been seeking and was feeling nicely satisfied by the outcome.But then I had a doubt. Perhaps I had created these correspondences from very little evidence. Perhaps Trevor didn’t intend his novellas to be analysed and engineered to this extent. But then I remembered that, after all, this is just an episode in the story of my own reading life, and therefore Trevor is just another character that story and I can do with him as I please. This meandering journey in search of Trevor’s imagined motivations reminds me again of the ‘fantastic’ pattern of my reading life and why I’m more and more drawn towards rendering my reading experiences into fiction: I do like stories. And I plan to skip cross Europe and across time again soon and read Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice...Two Lives Reading TurgenevMy House in Umbria Fathers and Sons Solace Castle RackrentOn the Eve Death in Venice Review by Fionnuala is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Originally published on my blog here in October 1999.Turgenev's short novel is based around a memoir written by a friend, who suggested he might like to turn it into a novel. It tells the stories of a small group of upper class teenagers in Russia on the eve of the outbreak of the Crimean War. Elena comes from a home troubled by the infidelities of her father, and this has hardly given her a taste for any kind of marriage that might be arranged by her parents. She is loved by one of a small group of friends, Pavel Shubin, who introduces her to the Bulgarian revolutionary Dimitry Insarov. (Bulgaria was at this time ruled by Turkey, whose oppression of the Slavs in its domains was one of the major causes of the Crimean War.) Shubin thinks Insarov an interesting person, but not one likely to arouse the passions of a woman, and he is very upset when he becomes a favoured rival for Elena's love.It is Insarov's patriotic devotion which makes him a romantic figure to Elena; no matter how passionate he may be about her, his duty to his country must come first, and this is what fascinates her. It is a total contrast to the meaningless lives of the upper class Russians she sees around her.Though Turgenev's writing pointed the way to the psychological dramas of Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky, his work is far more mild and serene in the effect it has on the reader. This is especially true of On the Eve, despite the potential for melodrama in its plot. The title is in fact most apt, for it gives the impression of great things eagerly awaited around the corner, and this is the emotion that Turgenev seeks to produce in his readers throughout the novel.
What do You think about On The Eve (2007)?
Between my finishing On The Eve and writing this review, it has turned from a 5 star book to a 3 star, and I shall do my best to explain why this is.When I finished On The Eve, I was blown away by my sympathy for the characters and their struggles, especially that of Shubin and his egotistical love for himself and Elena. The opening scene of two intellectuals discussing nature and love melted my heart, and I fell in love with the book. Furthermore, the lyrical descriptions of the Russian countryside and the feminist ideas present could only heighten my admiration of Turgenev and his writing. However, there was an issue. I simply did not enjoy reading the book as much as I have enjoyed other, less skillfully written books. This is not because it is a 'gloomy Russian novel' or lacks any weight, but it simply did not pull me in as other books have done. Perhaps this is because of the abrupt ending (but then, I adored the ending's of The Briefcase and Sanshiro), or maybe I just didn't adore Insarov as much as I should have done (while I admire and support the idea of fighting against any kind of dictatorship, I'm an anti-nationalist by nature, so his ideas didn't permeate to any deeper level). Whatever the reason, I simply did not feel I could rank it any higher than 3 stars as I read novels that touched me much more deeply, but I am well aware that it is worthy of 4 or 5 stars, regardless of what I say.
—Kyle
Revisited. Turgenev's short novels were second to Dostoyevsky for me, as far as Russians go (and Russians go far). Though I can see why Turgenev's despair of Russia as instanced here might have annoyed D... 'Go to foreign parts'. Anyhow, never mind that. I can also see why this one spoke closely to me as a girl. Yelena is a serious girl who needs an ethical and active life, and finds a freedom fight to throw herself into -- Bulgaria from the Turks. I was always impressed by Turgenev's young women, whose engagement with the questions of the day he can put centre-stage. Bersenev is eminently likeable from page one; Uvar Ivanovich grows on you. Insarov, Yelena's Bulgarian hero, is astutely mocked by other participants and you can make up your own mind. I didn't remember his descriptiveness, which I found of real beauty now. I dare say I paid little attention then: my idol D. is famous for describing a tree, once, in his entire writings. That may be an exaggeration. The intro to mine says the atmospherics of his Venice must have fed into Death in Venice (another I was in love with, so maybe I did notice).Sad end.
—Bryn Hammond
I read this book from the Woodland Library: a very old edition. It was wonderful to find out that this is the novel William Trevor references in his story called Reading Turgenev. Trevor does not name which Turgenev story he is using, only naming characters and situations. There are parallels between the love story in each book. I really enjoyed reading Trevor first, not knowing which Turgenev novel he was using to form the structure around his characters Mary Louise Quarry and her cousin, Rober
—Laurie
