Chapter IX: Introduction: To S. T. Semënov’s Peasant Stories

I long ago laid down for myself the rule of judging every artistic production from three aspects, first from the side of its content; in how far is that which the artist reveals from a new side important and necessary for man; for any production is, I think, a work of art only if it reveals a new side of life: secondly, in how far is the form of the work good, beautiful, and in accord with its contents: and thirdly, to what extent is the relation of the artist to his subject sincere, that is, in how far does he believe in what he presents to us. This last quality always seems to me the most important in artistic work. It gives its force to a work of art, and makes it infectious, that is, it evokes in the spectator, the hearer, or the reader those feelings which the artist himself experiences.

And Semënov possesses that quality in the highest degree.

There is a well-known story of Flaubert’s which Turgenev has translated, _La légende de Julien l’hospitalier_; the last episode, intended to be the most touching in the story, is one in which Julien lies down in the same bed with a leper and warms him with his own body. This leper is Christ, who carries off Julien to heaven with him. All this is told with great mastery, but I always remain perfectly cold when I read that story. I feel that the author himself would not have done and would not even have wished to do what his hero does, and therefore I myself do not wish to do it and do not experience any agitation at reading of this amazing exploit.

But Semënov describes the simplest story and it always touches me. A village youth comes to Moscow to find a place and, helped by a coachman from his part of the country who is living with a rich merchant, he gets a job as the yard-porter’s assistant. This place had previously been held by an old man. The merchant, by his coachman’s advice, had discharged the old man and taken the lad in his place. The lad comes in the evening to begin his service, and standing in the yard he hears the old man complain in the porter’s lodge that through no fault of his he has been dismissed, merely to give place to a younger man. The lad suddenly feels pity for the old man and is ashamed to have pushed him out. He considers the matter, hesitates, and finally decides to give up the situation which he needs so much and would have been so glad to take.

All this is told in such a way that every time I read it I feel that the author would not only have wished to, but certainly would, have acted in that way under similar circumstances; his feelings infect me and I feel pleased, and it seems to me that I too should have done, or have been ready to do, something good.

Sincerity is Semënov’s chief merit. But besides that, his content is always important: important because it relates to the most important class in Russia, the peasantry, whom Semënov knows as only a peasant can know them who himself lives in the laborious village; and the content of his stories is also important because, in them all, the chief interest is not in external events or in the peculiarity of the life, but in the way men approach or fall away from the ideal of Christian truth, which is present clearly and firmly in the author’s soul and supplies him with a safe standard and appraisement of the quality and importance of human actions. The form of the stories fully corresponds to their content: it is serious and simple, the details are always correct, and there are no false notes. What is particularly good is the language, often quite original in its expressions, but always natural and strikingly strong and picturesque, in which the characters of the story speak.