Notions of order and chaos - The Great Generational Divide

 

The Great Generational Divide

 

Now, then, we reach the precarious divide between the generations alluded to at the beginning of this chapter. The history of Russia before and after Turgenev wrote the novel, Fathers and Sons, is important because there is a very specific context as to why a generational divide was occurring. Barazov, the nihilist of our novel, represents the radical and contemporary views of Lenin’s company; Pavel, on the other hand, is the moderate Liberal who sustains that any radical ideal is worthless and petty, considering the hardships Russia is already facing.

This duality, however, is not merely present in terms of the generations; the advents of a history textbook could demonstrate this. What is important is the concept of change in reality, and that the human experience is in constant flux. (As, one could argue, it is now, and always will be.) This means that there is no longer a homogenous consistency to the Russian people, as there once was for decades upon decades—a peasant was always a peasant, and a noble was always a noble, this was the essence of existence. However, we now find a multiplicity of differences in the way the archetypal ‘fathers’ and ‘sons’ diverge; it is ubiquitous throughout the novel, even at its very outset. For example, we find Arkadii describing the Russian countryside with two highly differing views, depending on the eye of the beholder, so to say; at first, “field upon field stretched all the way to the very horizon… ravines covered with low, scanty bushes, reminiscent of their representations on ancient maps from the era of Catherine the Great, wound through the terrain.” [1] Then, upon viewing several serfs native to the land, the description becomes sombre, with “the willows near the road, whose trunks had been stripped of bark and whose branches had been snapped, st[anding] along the roadside like ragged beggars, [and] emaciated, shaggy cows, pinched up with hunger… greedily tearing at the grass along the ditches.” [2] The ideal view of one object—the Russian countryside—is shown to be variable, depending on the outlook of the viewer; for someone like Pavel, the former description would have been accurate, but for a neophyte nihilist the latter opinion would have been more acceptable.

This flux of reality is a vital aspect of the novel because it is a prerequisite to change; without the instability of time, our world would remain static. Turgenev pulls us in this direction because he, too, can smell the aroma of revolution in the air, and he does not want his people to be unwary; like a torch in a dark and dismal cave the gap between generations becomes something more—a gap between society itself. Of course, this is true: Pavel derives from the aristocracy, whereas Barazov—despite a quasi-elitist upbringing—denies aristocratism and all that it stands for, as seen with his statement about “these old romantics… continuously refin[ing] their nervous systems until those systems break down.” [3] As seen through the history of Russia at this time, class differences were imperative to change—Turgenev realized this, and displayed it for us through the two characters of Barazov and Pavel.

This turbulent aura of change and duality must ultimately come to some sort of confrontation—it is inevitable. This is represented through a duel—in the style of French dignitaries—between Pavel and Barazov near the end of the novel. The refined Pavel challenges Barazov to a contest of arms —a duel not out of insult, but out of a conflict of morals (or lack thereof). These are the fundamental forces of the older and newer generations—the ideals of a Russia fearing change, and the beliefs of a Russia eager for it, almost lusting for it—at the crux of imbalance in Russian society. In an odd and unexpected variation, there is no winner to this duel: Pavel does receive the only wound, but he recovers, and even more so is that Barazov aids his former enemy—they become acquaintances from then on, dis aliter visum.[4]

A vastly important variation on this theme of duality in Russian culture is the idea of the silent—the oppressed of centuries past—rising up and no longer playing dead; instead, these once-inaudible ones will rise up and assail those who have contested them for so long. The author uses a beautiful—and haunting—image to exemplify this, found when Barazov and Arkadii are laying among the haystacks in a secluded portion of woodland. The two have just begun to realize their uncontrollable parting of ways, and strife seems imminent; however, before Arkadii’s eyes, a deception of the mind: a dead leaf, floating calmly in the breezeless air to the ground, seems for a very second as a beautiful butterfly gliding serenely onto the grass. It is here that we find the dead most resembling life, and it is precisely those who remain silent, almost dead, who—as Turgenev, along with Barazov, predict—will no longer remain lifeless, but will be almost beautiful in their emergence to the world of the ‘living’, or those who make their voices heard.

Therefore, it is this theme of duality, made present in the representation of the very real generational divide among Russians in the mid-nineteenth century, which plays the official role of importance in this novel. This theme illustrates both the internal strife of Russian society pre-Revolution, in addition to making clear that even during those volatile and pugnacious years, there was no pre-determined victor to the battle between the socialist radicals and the more conservative traditionalists of the deep-rooted, tiered system of the Russian societal structure. However, Turgenev was not a simple observer: he was an excellent digressionary in the world of ideas, and excellently portrayed his knowledge in his work—particularly the origin and development of the various philosophical and political ideals that were spreading rapidly through the discontented minds of the younger compeers.

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[1] p. 12

[2] p. 13

[3] p. 18

[4] In other words, the way the Gods had planned, as opposed to the original plans of the mortals.