An Interview with Nikolai

 

Thunderous applause from the audience when the blood-red curtain came down ending the performance of the comedy drama 'Government Inspector' that evening. This performance tells the story of how nervous the Governor and other officials were when they found out that there would be an inspection by a Government Inspector who came incognito to their area. They are frantically trying to cover up all the bad things in this area which is infiltrated by corruption everywhere, which is depicted hilariously and full of satire. The audience who filled the Akimov Comedy Theater greeted the performance with smiles and laughter. It was fitting that the audience's response was like that, it is said that Tsar Nicholas I chuckled at the premiere of this comedy drama and gave a standing ovation at the end of the performance. Although this drama is actually a humorous criticism of the depravity of bureaucrats under the Tsarist government.

Before the applause died down I slipped out, because I had an appointment to meet someone very important. Who can say, I made an appointment to meet with Nikolai, the playwright of this drama! So I rushed down Nevsky Prospekt, the famous street in St Petersburg, on a cold night. We arranged to meet at the Literary Café, a café frequented by many aristocrats, poets and other artists. The famous Russian poet Alexander Pushkin also often hung out here. When I arrived, Nikolai was already sitting waiting in the corner of the room with dark brown wooden walls. The hanging lights make the atmosphere of this café cozy and calm. The chairs are also patterned with dark brown checks, making this room feels truly aristocratic.

Nikolai stood up and greeted me in a friendly manner. It turns out he was small, with legs that were too short for his body. His rather baby face was plastered with long strands of hair that hung down from her forehead to the side of his face covering his ears. His nose looked too ponty for his face. He wore modest clothes, not showing off his fame. With a smile he invited me to sit down.

 

I started the conversation:

“Nikolai, I have just finished watching 'The Government Inspector' at the Akimov Building..., I am amazed that such a horrendous performance was permitted by the Tsar, who imposed strict censorship on all works in Russia... The audience responded with uproarious laughter. laughing at the corrupt behavior of the governor and his government officials, who were worried about being investigated by the Government Inspector, who would come incognito. The governor and government officials are frantically trying to cover up their lies and corruption in every possible way. They even bribed the person they thought was the undercover Government Inspector.… There had never been a performance like this before, this was truly a new movement for the performance art in Russia…”

 

Nikolai:

“However, there were also hue and cry raised by the offended press and officials…”

I said:

“It is not surprising that this drama dares to attack the bureaucratic foundations of the government in Russia. It directly mocked all officials, and exposing corruption among high-ranking officials. It hurled insults directly at all Russian local government officials, and, indirectly, pointed out the system of corruption that existed among the highest officials.”

 

Nikolai:

“In the Inspector-General I resolved to gather together all the bad in Russia I then knew into one heap, all the injustice that was practiced in those places and in those human relations in which more than in anything justice is demanded of men, and to have one big laugh over it all. But that, as is well known, produced an outburst of excitement. Through my laughter, which never before came to me with such force, the reader sensed profound sorrow. I myself felt that my laughter was no longer the same as it had been, that in my writings I could no longer be the same as in the past, and that the need to divert myself with innocent, careless scenes had ended along with my young years.”

 

I said:

"It is said that Aleksandr Pushkin, the famous Russian poet, was one of your first admirers... how is your relationship with Pushkin?"

 

Nikolai:

“Our relationship was very close, Pushkin considered me his student, and I respected Pushkin and considered him my mentor. I really respect the taste and criticism he gave me. And ‘Government Inspector’ was the theme he suggested to me ….”

 

I asked:

“Why do you write a satirical comedy like this?”

 

Nikolai:

“The comic, actually is hidden everywhere, only living in the midst of it we are not conscious of it; but if the artist brings it into his art, on the stage say, we shall roll about with laughter and only wonder we did not notice it before.”

 

I smiled:

"Yes, I remember when the governor in this play remembered something he was careless about: ‘Good God, though, I forgot that about forty cart-loads of rubbish have been dumped against that fence. What a vile, filthy town this is! A monument, or even only a fence, is erected, and instantly they bring a lot of dirt together, from the devil knows where, and dump it there.”

 

Nikolai:

“When all his depravity was revealed, the Governor was very worried about his reputation, and complained: ‘Now his coach bells are jingling all along the road. He is publishing the story to the whole world. Not only will you be made a laughing-stock of, but some scribbler, some ink-splasher will put you into a comedy. There's the horrid sting. He won't spare either rank or station. And everybody will grin and clap his hands. What are you laughing at? You are laughing at yourself, oh you! ‘ … Stamping his feet.”

 

I said:

“However, about your comical works, Pushkin once said: ‘Behind laughter we can feel sad tears.’…. This is really felt in a short story you wrote entitled 'The Overcoat'.... concerns a simple humble scribe. His income was so small that he only had one overcoat and it had been worn for too long and was full of patches. Through various thrifts and sacrifices, which you describe comically, the scribe finally had a beautiful new robe, which he adored all the time. But one day he was robbed and the overcoat he was wearing were taken by the robbers... How tragic,... even though the story is told in comical way .....”.

 

Nikolai:

“Yes,  in a certain department there was a certain official -- not a very high one, it must be allowed -- short of stature, somewhat pock-marked, red-haired, and short-sighted, with a bald forehead, wrinkled cheeks, and a complexion of the kind known as sanguine.

His family name was Bashmatchkin. This name is evidently derived from "bashmak" (shoe); but when, at what time, and in what manner, is not known. His father and grandfather, and all the Bashmatchkins, always wore boots, which only had new heels two or three times a year.

 

I said:

“His complete name was Akakiy Akakievitch, and it is said that he was very dedicated to his work as a scribe…”

 

Nikolai:

“It would be difficult to find another man who lived so entirely for his duties. It is not enough to say that Akakiy laboured with zeal: no, he laboured with love. In his copying, he found a varied and agreeable employment. Enjoyment was written on his face: some letters were even favourites with him; and when he encountered these, he smiled, winked, and worked with his lips, till it seemed as though each letter might be read in his face, as his pen traced it. If his pay had been in proportion to his zeal, he would, perhaps, to his great surprise, have been made even a councillor of state. But he worked, as his companions, the wits, put it, like a horse in a mill.”

 

I said:

"Hmm, I remember that you also worked as a scribe, copying clerk..., where did you ever work like that...?"

 

Nikolai:

“When I left college at nineteen and went to St. Petersburg, where I secured a position as copying clerk in a government department. He did not keep his position long, yet long enough to store away in his mind a number of bureaucratic types.”

 

I said:

“So those experiences are what provide material for your writings, regarding the ins and outs of bureaucracy in government, with all its depravity..."

 

Nikolai:

“But, well, even though Tsar Nicholas I chuckled during the performance of 'Government Inspector', this performance had made fun of everyone.  They said, perhaps rightly, that they themselves were the targets of the satire. Naturally official Russia did not relish this innovation in dramatic art, and indignation ran high among them and their supporters. Bulgarin led the attack. Everything that is usually said against a new departure in literature or art was said against the drama. It was not original. It was improbable, impossible, coarse, vulgar; lacked plot. It turned on a stale anecdote that everybody knew. It was a rank farce. The characters were mere caricatures. ‘What sort of a town was it that did not hold a single honest soul?’

The ensuing uproar in polite society was so intense that I felt I had to flee Russia for Europe, eventually settling in Rome “

 

I asked: “Do you feel comfortable in Rome?”

 

Nikolai:

“I adore Rome. I studied art, read Italian literature and developed a passion for opera. The religious painter Aleksandr Ivanov who worked in Rome, became my close friend, and I also met several Russian nobles who visited there, including Princess Zinaida Volkonsky, we often met. “

 

I asked: “Did you write a lot in Rome?”

 

Nikolai: “Yes, the short story ‘Overcoat’ I wrote while in Rome.  Also, most part of ‘The Dead Souls’ I wrote there.”

 

I said:

“Oh, the novel Dead Souls, your masterpiece…. At first, I thought that the title Dead Souls was a metaphor, about Souls not caring anything, or something like that..., but it turns out the meaning is completely different. This novel tells the story of Chichikov, who you present as the hero, an accomplished imposter who, after several experiences of bad luck, wants to get rich quickly. Among his tricks he had the idea to buy dead slaves, which their deaths had not been officially recorded in the official census. So, officially they are still alive. Then, he had the idea to buy dead slaves, as if they were still alive, at a cheap price from the landowner who owned the slaves. Thus Chichikov had proof that he was a rich man who owned many slaves, which he could use to obtain capital loans from the bank. That way, he could pawn the certificate of ownership of the slaves to a bank to borrow a lot of money for capital for his agricultural business. This is something very unique, which we have never heard of, and never even thought about... how do you get idea of the story like this...?”

 

Nikolai:

"I got the theme of this novel from Pushkin too, which is based on real event..."

 

I said:

"But, that Chichikov, whom you put forward as the hero of this story, is an imposter, he is a rascal..."

 

Nikolai:

“It does not lie in me to take a virtuous character for my hero: and I will tell you why. It is because it is high time that a rest were given to the “poor, but virtuous” individual; it is because the phrase “a man of worth” has grown into a by-word; it is because the “man of worth” has become converted into a horse, and there is not a writer but rides him and flogs him, in and out of season; it is because the “man of worth” has been starved until he has not a shred of his virtue left, and all that remains of his body is but the ribs and the hide; it is because the “man of worth” is for ever being smuggled upon the scene; it is because the “man of worth” has at length forfeited every one’s respect. For these reasons do I reaffirm that it is high time to yoke a rascal to the shafts. Let us yoke that rascal.”

I said:

“I remember Chichikov's father's advice to him when he was little, which he always remembered: ‘See here, my boy. Do your lessons well, do not idle or play the fool, and above all things, see that you please your teachers. So long as you observe these rules you will make progress, and surpass your fellows, even if God shall have denied you brains, and you should fail in your studies. Also, do not consort overmuch with your comrades, for they will do you no good; but, should you do so, then make friends with the richer of them, since one day they may be useful to you. Also, never entertain or treat any one, but see that every one entertains and treats YOU. Lastly, and above all else, keep and save your every kopeck. To save money is the most important thing in life. Always a friend or a comrade may fail you, and be the first to desert you in a time of adversity; but never will a KOPECK fail you, whatever may be your plight. Nothing in the world cannot be done, cannot be attained, with the aid of money.”

 

Nikolai:

“More than once, while taking these walks, our hero pondered the idea of himself becoming a landowner—not now, of course, but later, when his chief aim should have been achieved, and he had got into his hands the necessary means for living the quiet life of the proprietor of an estate. Yes, and at these times there would include itself in his castle-building the figure of a young, fresh, fair-faced maiden of the mercantile or other rich grade of society, a woman who could both play and sing. He also dreamed of little descendants who should perpetuate the name of Chichikov; perhaps a frolicsome little boy and a fair young daughter, or possibly, two boys and quite two or three daughters; so that all should know that he had really lived and had his being, that he had not merely roamed the world like a spectre or a shadow; so that for him and his the country should never be put to shame. And from that he would go on to fancy that a title appended to his rank would not be a bad thing—the title of State Councillor, for instance, which was deserving of all honour and respect. Ah, it is a common thing for a man who is taking a solitary walk so to detach himself from the irksome realities of the present that he is able to stir and to excite and to provoke his imagination to the conception of things he knows can never really come to pass!”

 

THE END

This article is an imaginary interview in memory of Nikolai Gogol.

 

Sources:

The Inspector General by Nikolai Gogol.

The Overcoat by Nikolai Gogol.

The Dead Souls by Nikolai Gogol.