"superfluous man " (Russian : Lishny Chelovek) : a character type whose frequent recurrence in
19th-century Russian literature is sufficiently striking to make him a national archetype. He is
usually an aristocrat, intelligent, well-educated, and informed by idealism and goodwill but
incapable, for reasons as complex as Hamlet's, of engaging in effective action.
-Encyclopaedia Britannica

In his great autobiography, Memoirs of a Superfluous Man, Albert Jay Nock meant that he was
superfluous because his ideas, particularly his belief in freedom, had become so outmoded at the time
he was writing--the 1940s. But the original superfluous men were Russian nobles, who led utterly
meaningless lives of leisure, while peasants worked their land, servants took care of them, and
autocratic government mostly ignored them. They were felt to be superfluous because they had so
little to do and made so little contribution to Russian culture. For the most part though, they were
treated, in literature anyway, as kind of tragic heroes, as Russian Hamlets.

Thus, in Ivan Turgenev's novella, The Diary of a Superfluous Man, the young protagonist,
Tchulkaturin, humiliates himself in a romantic entanglement and a resulting duel, all the while
conveying the sense that there's nothing else really left for him to do with himself. Turgenev's
portrayal of this hopeless character combines tragicomedy with social criticism, but it is certainly more
sympathetic than not.

As always, Turgenev is the most accessible of Russian authors; the Constance Garnett translation is
very readable; and it is blessedly short. Even if you're, understandably, intimidated by Russian
novelists, you'll enjoy it.

GRADE : B+

The Diary of a Superfluous Man is a diary of a fictional 30 year old man written during the last two weeks of his life. The dying man, Tchulkaturin, is exceptionally introspective and obssessed with his sense of failure and inferiority. His heated sensibilities stifle his will. He was a particular type in Russian literature, especially hated by the reformers of the day. In their eyes, he made no social contribution--hence, the term "superfluous".
The Diary is not just a negative romp of a self-pitying aesthete. True, there's much complaints, hysteria, and sentimentality, but it's relieved by Tchulkaturin's amusing self-awareness. Likening himself to a useless fifth horse on a carriage, dragged along by life, he says, "But, thank goodness, the station is not far off." It was said that his birth was the "forfeit" his mother paid in the card game of life. Turgenev's ironic humor and relentless yet light-hearted social criticism add sharp levity.
Tchulkaturin supports his self-assessment as superfluous with the "folly" of his life, a failed three week love affair which he claims was his only happiness. Through this vehicle Turgenev explores the themes of love, passion, illusion and will versus weakness, which is also the focus of the companion story, First Love.
Tchulkaturin remembers bliss and humiliation, but he did take action. We see that no one wants to be rescued from passion, not even Tchulkaturin. Does it matter whether he reached his goal? The townspeople eventually esteemed him--perhaps he did make a social contribution and wasn't, afterall, a superfluous man. Irony upon irony and no answers.
In his small room, confronting death, Tchulkaturin realizes that none of the pathetic facts of his life matter. Yet he laments he has "gained sense" too late. He sees what things have had meaning for him. No matter how small, he wants to hold onto them--he wants to live. The tragedy is that Tchulkaturin is universal, not superfluous. He, like most of us, come to realize that it is part of the human condition to feel that happiness and life seem to have hardly begun when nearly over.
At the end of the diary, after Tchulkaturin has died, Turgenev adds another ironic touch that doubles as a social comment and as a device to force the infinitely unvarnished and necessary view that life goes on however it will, regardless of how we may think we have lived.
First Love is the story of an adolescent who falls in love with the same woman as his father. It sensitively portrays the transformation of a child to a young man, precipated by his first passion. The unusual triangle intensifies the suspence as we wonder how the son will find out who his rival is--he knows there is one. His inevitable realization deepens his emotional life and his understanding of the complexities of human life.
The story has an episodic structure from which the poetry and drama effortessly unfold, showing the son's growing love and helpless flip-flopping from child to man.The parlor games portentuously hint at the untold subplot. No character is wasted. Each has a distinct purpose for plot development and highlighting the boy's predicament.
Turgenev's incomparable nature depictions have such a clarity of vision that vivid and penetrating images automatically arise in the mind's eye whether he uses them to symbolically presage events or to reflect a character's emotional state. Or, Turgenev can use his visions of the expansive beauty of nature in opposition to the character's emotional condition to distance us from it to show human insignifcance in the face of the vastness of existence.
The pairing of The Diary with First Love is good. Each is a meditation on life, love and death. The juxtaposition of the two love stories, the neurotic dying man, the intelligent, passionate young son, and the powerful, archetypal father stimulate profound thought: How should life be lived--passionately or safely? Why to we cling to life so, no matter how we perceive it? Who decides whose life is superfluous and whose is meaningful? What are the criteria? Is any life meaningful? Does it matter how we have lived if we can discard our regrets and wonder at the paradoxical smallness and greatness of life? Is any significance we attach to life a mere crutch to face life or a crutch to face death? Each rereading of the stories reveals more perspectives and more layers of meaning.

You heard me. Read the headline over again, and then do what it says.

A reviewer before me said Turgenev came in the footsteps of the other great Russians. He might have been after Gogol, whom was the first master of fiction to turn to realism, but he was basically a frontrunner of both Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky (and Chekhov). At Gogol's death in 1852 Turgenev wrote an eulogy on Gogol and published the short-story cycle "A Sportsman's Sketches", and was banished to his estate. After this he went abroad and spent most of his time in Paris, where he more than anybody made Russian literature known to the outside world. His greatest novels were "A Nest of Gentlefolk", "On the Eve" and of course "Fathers and Sons". "A Month in the Country" is a pleasant and amusing play of the day, and his very best. One that later also highly inspired Chekhov. Further reading recommended: "The Essential Turgenev".

In the footsteps of other such amazing Russian authors comes Turgenev, and his wonderfully written play 'A Month in the Country.' If you love Russian literature of this time period, and you like Love triangles, and plays, then this story can not go wrong.

On the Eve deals with the friendships and love affairs between a twenty-year old provincial Russian woman named Elena and a number of men in her social circle: the young artist Shubin; the intellectual Berzeniev; and, ultimately, Berzeniev's friend, the Bulgarian revolutionary Insarov. Though Berzeniev is in love with Elena, he introduces her to Insarov (who Berzeniev describes as the only interesting man he's met at the university), and Insarov and Elena rather quickly fall in love and secretly marry. Elena's parents, particularly her father, don't care much for the impoverished foreigner that their daughter loves, especially since they've recently found her a nice Russian man for a fiance. Worse still, the start of the Crimean War ("on the eve" of which the novel is set) will force Elena to leave her parents and join Insarov in Bulgaria if she is to stay with him.

In addition to being an interesting love story in its own right, On the Eve develops a couple of themes often seen elsewhere in Turgenev's work (and also that of some other Russian authors around the same time). In the conflict between Elena and her parents, we see shades of the generational conflict that Turgenev would develop very well two years later in Fathers and Sons. The fact that the only man who can thoroughly win Elena's heart is a Bulgarian (as well as comment by Berzeniev about Insarov mentioned above) reflects the aimlessness and superfluity that so often shows up among Russian men in the literature of this time period (e.g., Turgenev's Rudin). While Shubin has his art and Berzeniev his historical studies, Insarov is driven by a cause (the freedom of the Bulgarian people) that is deeper than anything that Russian men were pursuing at the time and accordingly makes him a more intriguing character.

The novel did read, for me at least, a little slowly at first, and I found that some of the characters (Shubin in particular) weren't much more than cliched archetypes when they could have been fleshed out a little better. However, On the Eve is definitely one of Turgenev's better works and was all in all a worthwhile read.

Though its' a very old book still worth reading. It was interesting to read gradual building-up of character - Insarov. The end of Insarov was a melancholy. I think Turgenev had tried to shape his own views in the form of Insarov.How Insarov becomes so soft in front of Elena is also beautiful. This book depicts the frustrations, struggle,revolution,parents' dilemma and love all together in the form of this great story of Insarov & Elena. You can't stop your tears while reading the helplessness of Elena on gradual ending of Insarov. Really a legendary work ! Worth reading many times !

_Rudin_ is a good novel by Ivan Turgenev, but altogether non-essential, unless you want to read all of his works.

The character Rudin is a fortunate young man in 1860s Russia, a man around thirty years of age, in the prime of his life. He is very much a superfluous man, like the man Turgenev wrote of in his shorter story "A Superfluous Man." He is all talk and no action. He has high-minded ideals but can not transfer them into deeds.

I suppose Turgenev saw many young Russian men of his generation who served as the basis for Rudin, the character. Natalya, Rudin's love interest, at least has the fortitude to translate her ideals into actions, but she is offered fewer possibilities by Russian society. She comes off more sympathetically than the title character, but she is female, and therefore a minor character in a Turgenev work. I found her more interesting, and similar to the female main character in _Oblomov_ by Goncharov.

The political edge on this novel is not nearly so sharp as that on _Fathers and Sons_. Mostly this seems a personal and emotional novel, rather than a political novel. A student wanting a general grounding in the major novels of Russian Literature can probably skip _Rudin_. On the other hand, if you read _Fathers and Sons_ and found that book very rewarding, you may want to take a peek at _Rudin_, to see what another (earlier) novel by Turgenev is like.

ken32

Rudin is the lead character in this short novel, which reads like a play set in mid nineteenth century Russia. He enters into a provincial society peopled by the usual array of grand dames, eccentrics, local radicals, and beautiful / eligible debutant-daughter, with whom he (believes he) falls in love.

Whilst the characters and setting is characteristic of many European novels of the time, the story takes an unexpected turn. Rudin is a fateful character, and one whose shallowness and egotism is exposed by the young daughter who he seduces. Turgenev manages to present Rudin as a sympathetic character albeit imbued with the resignation that he is a 'superfluous man' (cf. 'A Hero of Our Times' by Lermontov)

The book is well written and deserves a place in the canon of nineteenth century Russian novels . Particularly recommended for anyone who has read Fathers and Sons.

This is a simple parable, told within a beautiful story. We meet Rudin through several people's eyes and learn much more about him from the differences others see in him than we learn directly. It is facsinating to see the interplay between the man's fantasies and his facade. You are left with very profound and troubling unanswered questions about your own life and our tenuous connections to "reality." This is a powerful volume for anyone who is seriously and sincerely examining their own motives, especially if you are dissatisfied with your current conclusions.

The narrator of this book, the "author" of the diary is a man anticipating death within a week. Chulkaturin is alone - only an old woman caring for him - facing death without family or friends. He begins writing a diary, an accounting of his life. What begins as a biography beginning with his childhood, becomes the narration of a single event, an event he believes illustrates beyond all doubt that he is a "superfluous man". This event is a one-sided love for a girl just becoming a woman. In this story Turgenev presents us with alienation - 1850's Russian style. For those of us raised on existential alienation, this book is an excellent reminder that alienation is a far more universal literary theme - a theme well executed in this book.

This early work (published when he was 32) presents an author who is already a master of metaphor and simile as well as a great story-teller. It is a short book, not quite a novel one could say, but an excellent exhibition of the young Turgenev's skill and artistic sensibilities.

The story itself is in the framework of a diary of a dying man. More than an actual diary, it is actually an account of a desperate man, hopelessly in love with a young girl. It is the story of his unhappiness and jealousy, which make him a superfluous man without use and objective.

Turgenev's novella about a dying 'superfluous' man . In a way, it's an update of Lermantov's "A Hero of Our Time" (without the tricky narrative structure) or Goethe's "Werther." Turgenev's story is notable for its more humane perspective; he truly was the "greatest French novelist writing in Russian."

The only downside to this volume is its length: "Superfluous Man" is more of a long story or novella than a book in and of itself. Look instead for a collection.

This book is a good book, and I recommend it to anybody who wants to read a book. I'm an extremely bad reader - and so may not have picked up on all the nuances, but at the end I was touched by that fuzzy feeling of truth one gets with good art. Is the end a little like D. Thomas' poem "Mourning" something or other - you know the one! - or was it my imagination.