Elders and Youngers

Often, both our worldviews and personal politics contradict our elders. The nineteenth-century Russian writer, Ivan Turgenev, felt this was a problem worth discussing, and his most famous novel, Fathers and Sons (1862), places inter-generational conflict at the very centre of its narrative.

In the beginning, Bazarov, a youthful medicine student and hard-line nihilist, contends with his best friend’s uncle, Pavel Petrovich, on his systems of belief. Petrovich interrogates Bazarov at dinner and criticises his nihilistic outlook. Across the table, Bazarov bravely bites back at the retired military general. ‘In the first place,’ he clarifies, ‘we preach nothing’ (58). ‘We come to see that our so-called progressives and denouncers are good for nothing, that we’re spending our time on nonsense . . . when what’s at stake is people’s daily bread’ (59). Fathers and Sons is set during a time of sweeping social-political change in nineteenth-century Russia. The 1850s led to up to the momentous Emancipation of the Serfs in February 1861, changing Russia’s social landscape forever. As an ardent traditionalist (a ‘grand seigneur’), Petrovich explodes at Bazarov’s radicalism and, to no avail, seeks to impose his value system onto his youngers. Both characters represent the conflict between the old world and the new; tradition and innovation.

In an inevitable clash of egos, Petrovich challenges Bazarov to a duel. Bazarov expresses contempt at Petrovich’s ‘chivalrous’ behaviour – nevertheless, he accepts. Suddenly, Petrovich loses. Bazarov rushes for help. Petrovich survives and retires to his bed, where he makes a slow recovery but suffers a damaged reputation. Soon Bazarov leaves the Petrovich household, and his heart boils with scorn. The mansion appears to him for the last time. He spits and mutters “Bloody gents!” and escapes the stranglehold of his predecessor’s ways (190).

Bazarov breaks the news to Petrovich’s nephew, Arkady. He admits responsibility for the uncle’s injury, but justifies his actions through a well-rehearsed argument. ‘[T]hat’s what comes of living with feudal barons. You become one yourself and take your part in knightly tournaments’ (203). Bazarov’s rhetoric further establishes his disdain for the world behind him. The whole affair – its human cost – exacerbates his contempt for Russia’s traditions. He wants to divide himself from the ways of his predecessors, comparing their ways to medieval customs. To him, their generation are nothing more than dinosaurs: ancient history.

With a title like Fathers and Sons, Turgenev deceives his reader: this story is also about Bazarov’s mother. In addition to his poor relations with the families of others, Bazarov antagonises his direct family too. When he returns home, his father warns his wife ‘not to “bother” him too much. “Young men don’t like it”’ (157). Turgenev gives an outline of her character.

Arina Vlasyevna was a true Russian gentlewoman of olden time. She should have lived two hundred years before, in the days of old Muscovy. She was extremely devout and sensitive, believed in all kinds of portents, fortune-telling, spells and dreams. (141)

Both her motherly sentimentality and folk beliefs get in the way of Bazarov’s worldview. As a result, she irritates him; he disowns her.

Once again, elders and youngers fail to see eye to eye, and the mistaken love of a mother adds an extra dimension to Turgenev’s story. Inter-generational conflict extends beyond personal politics and eventually invades issues of love and tenderness. This is the eternal truth to Turgenev’s fiction – simply, that the old and the young will inevitably disagree.

Source:

Fathers and Sons. By Ivan Turgenev (trans. by Peter Carson). London: Penguin Random House, 2016. 978-0-241-26197-2.