C. HAGBERG WRIGHT, LL.D.
T. FISHER UNWIN LTD.
ADELPHI TERRACE, LONDON
1915
[INTRODUCTION]
The genius of Turgeniev and Tolstoy, of Dostoevsky and Gorky, has given fame and distinction to the Russian novel, but while the principal works of these great writers and their fellows are well known to English readers, the women novelists of Russia have been left almost untouched by the translator. Yet there are many authoresses of talent in the literary world of Russia at the present day; notably Madame Dmitrieva, born 1859, of peasant parents. Her first novel was entitled From the Heart not from the Head. Two of her best-known books are Mityukha, the Schoolmaster, and In Various Directions. She has said that "her first school was the village street, and her teachers, the grey old village folk and dire need."
Other writers of ability are Olga Chumina (born 1864), who has translated several poems by Francis Coppée, and also produced a play entitled The Flicker that Went Out; Madame Smirnov, author of the powerful novel, The Salt of the Earth; M. V. Krestovskaya (born 1862), whose stories of theatrical life have the charm of simplicity and truth, and whose Woman-Artist appeared in the Journal des Débats; Madame Verbitskaya, who attained an extraordinary popularity with her daring novel The Keys of Happiness; and Madame Lidia Ivanovna Veselitskaya, who, under the pseudonym of V. Mikoulitch, has written sketches of Russian society which are full of humour and clever characterisation. The best known are the series entitled Mimi's Marriage, Mimi (or Mimotchka) at the Springs, and Mimi Poisons Herself, which have been translated into no less than six European languages.
The writer of these genial satires on the weaknesses of her sex was born in 1857. She belonged to a noble family with estates in Southern Russia, and was educated at the Pavlovsk Institute, one of the great schools for women in Russia. Soon after her debut in society, she married an officer in the Russian army.
She began her literary career with some simple tales intended for young people; Family Evenings, In the Family and in the School, and Of Children's Reading, but in 1883 she struck a bolder note with Mimotchka, the Bride, or Mimi's Marriage, which made its first appearance in the Vestnik Evropy, a leading Russian monthly review. But it was not until the second of the series, Mimotchka at the Springs, was published seven years later that "V. Mikoulitch" sprang to her present position of widespread popularity. The witty superficiality of the chapters descriptive of Mimi's girlhood develops in Mimi at the Springs into a brilliant, incisive study of a selfish, empty-headed, and exceedingly pretty young woman. The analysis of her character is so penetrating and pitiless that Tolstoy, who admired the book, remarked that "the author must be a man, as no woman would be so frank in writing of her own sex."
Mimi bears a surface resemblance to Anna Karenina, but she escapes the whirl-pool of passion that engulfed Tolstoy's ill-starred heroine, and glides almost unscathed through the romantic episode of l'homme au chien. The latter, though only lightly sketched in, is a cleverly suggested portrait of a cultivated and elegant Russian of the wealthy upper classes who, if he permits himself an occasional lapse from conjugal fidelity, trims the balance by the "correction" of his manners. He is a past master in the art of guiding a novice through the mazes of flirtation and emerging free from entanglement.
At the end of it all Mimi's heart is touched but not broken. Perhaps she Was even slightly disillusioned by the calmness with which her "correct" admirer met the crisis of her departure from the Caucasus.
The secondary characters are also well drawn; notably that of the mother of Mimi, a self-sacrificing "doormat" whose mission in life is to make things smooth for her cherished daughter; but to those who seek to discover the personality of an author through the medium of his puppets, and are ready to find a veiled autobiography in the career of the hero or heroine, it may be suggested that the character of Vava, the lonely, idealistic, day-dreaming cousin of Mimi, is far nearer to the writer's heart than the fascinating heroine who fills the title-role.
Vava has many traits in common with the boy-hero of Tolstoy's Childhood, which is only another way of saying that in Russia young people of both sexes are more thoughtful, introspective, and inclined to philosophise upon abstract subjects than the romps and tomboys of our English nurseries and schoolrooms.
The sympathetic earnestness of the description of Vava's love of solitude in the Caucasian woods, amounts to an avowal that the author also has felt the joy of loneliness shared with crickets, lady-birds, butterflies, and bees, "while over her head a great eagle soars calmly up, as if carrying on his broad wings her dreams, her hopes, and her faith in God." In scenes like these the prevailing tone of playful irony yields to one of genuine emotion, and one is tempted to wish that the writer had given her inner convictions fuller play. V. Mikoulitch has, however, struck a deeper note of human feeling in her recent story of humble life entitled The Bath— a village tragedy turning upon the incident of the theft of an old woman's petticoat in the public bath-house; but it seems doubtful whether her success in this new vein will equal that of her earlier works.
To the background of Mimi at the Springs may be ascribed some measure of its popularity. The Caucasus has inspired many of the greatest of the writers of Russia, and to the Russian reading public it is still dear as the land of legend and romance.
Pushkin, Lermontov, Tolstoy (in his early masterpiece The Cossacks,) have each revelled in the beauty of the great southern mountain range, with its luxuriant forests, its snow-clad peaks, and innumerable springs of mineral water.
The Slav temperament, with its swift transitions from feverish gaiety to nervous exhaustion, finds peculiar relief in reverting to the simple life of the Caucasian watering-places. There many a disgraced official or disappointed genius has regained contentment if not happiness, and realised, despite the pain of exile, that there is a sweetness in adversity.
In describing the scenery of the Caucasus, V. Mikoulitch has followed not unworthily in the steps of her great fore-runners, and shown that her cynicism is the mere protective armour of one who is at heart an idealist.
A sequel, Mimi Poisons Herself, appeared in the Vestnik Evropy in 1893, but was received more coldly than its predecessor, owing, perhaps, to the disappointment of readers with a taste for tragedy, since Mimi does not succeed in poisoning herself after all.
C. HAGBERG WRIGHT.
[MIMI'S MARRIAGE]
I
MIMOTCHKA—is engaged! Mimotchka[1] is once more engaged, and this time, it seems, engaged in earnest. She receives congratulations, pays visits to her relations, and accepts presents from them. Her aunts question her with curiosity and interest about the details of her trousseau; her uncles bring their best wishes, joking at Mimotchka and teasing her, while Mimotchka slightly blushes and casts down her innocent-looking eyes.
"And are you very much in love with your fiancé?" they ask Mimotchka.
[1] Mimotchka, or Mimi, is sometimes used as a diminutive name for Marie.
"As yet, I know my fiancé too little to be in love with him, but I ... respect him," she answers.
What a reply! Nobody had expected she would answer so cleverly. All the aunts think she has answered very cleverly, though up till now Mimotchka had never shown any more cleverness than would be required of so pretty a girl as she.
She respected her fiancé. And really Spiridon Ivanovitch was quite worthy of her respect. He was well off, had a good rank, and occupied a sufficiently prominent position in the Government service; he was no longer very young, but still he was not very old; he was not handsome, was bald, perhaps rather too stout, but still he was a fine-looking man, and might have aspired to a rich bride.
And really how lucky Mimotchka is I know that many girls of her age among her friends, and especially their mothers, are ready to burst with envy and vexation that they could not get Spiridon Ivanovitch for themselves, and say that he was mercilessly hunted down, and that Mimotchka was thrown at his head.... But, goodness me, what won't envious women's tongues say! Instead of repeating such absurdities, let us rather rejoice with Mimotchka, rejoice with our whole heart, as do her good aunts.
"Well, thank God, thank God!" says Aunt Sophy; "I am so glad about Mimotchka. I do hope she will be happy with him. It's just as well that he isn't young; Mimi is still such a child, she requires an elderly, serious man...."
"Of course it's best that he isn't young," confirms Aunt Mary; "it's easier to keep such a husband under her thumb. And, as a good aunt, I advise you, Mimotchka, to take your Spiridon Ivanovitch well in hand in time."
"I told you that everything was for the best," says Aunt Julia, in conclusion. "Just think how fortunate it is that you 'broke it off' with that other good-for-nothing fellow!"
And really everything was for the best. Mimotchka's first fiancé was a brilliant young guardsman, with beautiful shiny boots, black moustaches, curly chestnut hair, and a gold-mounted pince-nez. Mimotchka met him for the first time at an evening party, where he led the dancing,[2] clinking his spurs, facetiously fanning himself with the fans and scented hand-kerchiefs of the ladies he danced with, smiling gaily to show his brilliantly white teeth, and with diabolical entrain calling out: "Ser-r-r-r-rez le rond!... Chaîne!" ... He took a few turns with Mimotchka, admired her while she was waltzing with some one else, and, having ascertained what was the social position of her parents, asked to be presented to her.
[2] At dances in Russia a leader or conductor is generally chosen, who directs and calls out the figures in the cotillion, mazourka, and quadrilles, which are more complicated than in England.
Then he took to calling, then he began to pay her attention, and finally made her an offer.
The brilliant guardsman and adroit dancer passed for a dangerous lady-killer. He flirted with all the pretty girls, widows, and married women that he was acquainted with, and was said to be the object of the affections of many of them. So that to carry him off from them all must have been very flattering to the vanity of both Mimotchka and her mamma.
Mimotchka accepted his offer, and was announced to be "fiancée."
On this occasion Aunt Sophy gave a dance, Aunt Mary a dinner with champagne, and Aunt Julia a folle-journée with dancing, champagne, and a sleigh drive out of town.
The young man was respectful, attentive, and amiable to his fiancées relations, and pleased them all.
"Do you know, Mimotchka," said Aunt Mary to her, "he is so nice, so very nice, that if I were only a little younger, on my word of honour, I should try and cut you out."
"Yes, you will make a handsome couple," confirmed Aunt Sophy.
"And you were quite right, my dear, to accept his offer," concluded Aunt Julia. "Such a fiancé is not met with every day. He's on the right road, and is sure to advance a great deal in the service."
The fiancé was not only "on the right road," but he was a "prince" besides, of a somewhat decayed family, certainly, but still he was a prince, and not an Eastern one. And, in addition to this, he was, he said, the nephew and sole heir of a rich, childless uncle, who owned land in the south, fifteen thousand dessiatines,[3] and coal mines as well.
[3] 40,500 acres.
Having given their blessing, Mimotchka's parents set about preparing a most luxurious trousseau for the future princess. It had to be done on credit, because their affairs were just then terribly involved.... However, as long as Mimotchka could remember, her parents' affairs had always been terribly involved; but this did not prevent their living without denying themselves any pleasures, excepting always the pleasure of paying their debts, the sum of which had thus grown and grown like ill weeds.
In view of the approaching marriage, they again had to borrow from one and another, but to owe a few thousand of roubles more or less—what could that matter when the happiness of an only daughter was concerned? And then in the future Mimi would have the childless uncle's coal mines! All Mimotchka's relations made her presents. Aunt Sophy gave her a costly fur cloak (shouba.) Aunt Mary an elegant tea-gown in vert-jaspe plush, lined with bleu-nuage satin, and trimmed with rich lace. Aunt Julia gave the silver. All the linen was marked with a princess's coronet. Aunt Julia said that this was not correct, because Mimotchka was not a princess, and the linen ought to be marked with the bride's monogram, and that it was ridiculous to be in such a hurry about the coronet, as if they could not conceal their joy that Mimotchka was going to be a princess. But Aunt Mary and Aunt Sophy backed up mamma, saying, "After all, what did it matter? Would not the linen that was made after the marriage be marked with a princess's coronet; why, then, not have the same marks on all at once?" And so all the linen was marked with a princess's coronet.
Before Mimotchka's engagement was officially announced, papa came to a clear understanding with the young man. He confessed that just at the present time his affairs were perhaps rather involved, and that he was not in a position to give anything to Mimotchka.... But he took on himself all the expenses of fitting up a nest for the young couple, and promised to help them afterwards, as far as was possible, by allowing his daughter a part of his income.
The young man, although he thanked papa for speaking so openly, warmly assuring him that in choosing Mimotchka he had not been guided by any interested motives, still could not hide some disappointment on hearing that Mimotchka was—portionless. He had never expected it, and openly said, that it would oblige him—not to give up his fiancée— oh no, certainly not!—but to put off the marriage to an indefinite period.
In his turn he confessed that just now he was passing through some rather unpleasant monetary difficulties. Of course, these difficulties could not give him any very serious anxiety while he was alone and an unmarried man, and, after all, his uncle's coal mines must come eventually to him; but none the less he would consider himself the most abject and dishonourable of men if, under the present circumstances, he were to allow himself to marry a portionless girl, that is, without waiting, if not for the death of the childless coal uncle, at any rate for some advancement in the service.
The prince added, that in the not very distant future he expected to be appointed to the command of a battalion, and that it would be very agreeable for him to be appointed to the command of a battalion in N——, a pretty, gay town, where life was not very expensive, and where he might somehow settle down and manage to live with his young wife, of course not without substantial help from papa and the childless uncle. If papa would like to make use of his influence and connections to advance the interests of his future son-in-law, perhaps he might hasten Mimotchka's marriage, and secure the happiness of the young people.
In conclusion, the fiancé, as a man of honour, plainly declared that he would only marry in the event of his being appointed to the above-mentioned battalion. Papa must arrange the nomination.
It was difficult, but the happiness of an only daughter is worth labouring for. Papa's toils and efforts were crowned with success. The future bridegroom received the command of the battalion, and went to N—— to accept it. The day of the wedding was already fixed, there remained but two weeks to it. But it was unexpectedly put off on account of mourning.
Poor papa died suddenly, died at a friend's house, almost at the card-table, from a stroke or a rupture of the heart—I cannot say which. A telegram announcing the catastrophe was sent off at once to the fiancé, but he did not even come for the funeral. This immediately struck all Mimotchka's relations unpleasantly, and especially her mamma, into whose heart there stole alarming suspicions. And her suspicions appeared well founded. When he returned to Petersburg the young man quite changed in his intercourse with his future bride and his future mother-in-law. It soon became evident that he was only looking out for a pretext to break off the engagement. He tried being jealous with his fiancée, made fun of her, corrected her, educated her, but Mimotchka had such an immovably angelic character, that, in spite of all his efforts, her intended could not succeed in quarrelling with her. Then he attacked mamma; there matters went easier, and the encounters soon took a dangerous turn. They began with reproaches, pin-pricks, innuendoes; then both sides came to open explanations.
The fiancé maintained that papa had promised to give Mimotchka two thousand four hundred roubles[4] a year.
[4] About £250.
Mamma maintained that papa had never made any such promise.
To this the fiancé replied that if so (that is, if they wished to deceive him and call him a liar to his face), then, as a man of honour, there only remained for him to....
Mamma did not allow the man of honour to finish his threats, but offered to give up all her pension to the young people, stipulating only that they should let her live with them. The prince had had very good quarters assigned to him in N——, in which he could easily spare a corner for mamma.
But, on hearing this proposal, the fiancé announced categorically, that he would only marry in the event of mamma's giving up the whole of her pension to Mimotchka, and living herself where and how she liked, only not with them. He had seen too many examples of how mothers-in-law had ruined the conjugal happiness of their daughters not to wish to guard Mimotchka from the possibility of such unpleasantness in the future, more especially so as it already seemed sufficiently clear that he, personally, could not get on with his future mother-in-law.
The young man's impudence agitated mamma to such a degree that she went to complain of him to her sisters, asking their advice and help. The aunts were also agitated and consternated on hearing from mamma's lips that "this poor, miserable little prince, this guardsman frotteur, this passez-moi le mot, blackguard, wished, it seemed, to refuse to make Mimotchka happy!"
The aunts took the matter up warmly, and set to work to effect a reconciliation. They went from one to another, almost choked themselves with excitement, talked till their throats were dry, shrugged their shoulders, threw up their hands, severely discussed and judged the matter from all sides, admonished the young man, admonished mamma, and pitied and comforted the unfortunate Mimotchka.
"I don't understand how it can all finish," said Aunt Sophy, "but it seems to me that it would be really best for them to separate now.... Anyhow, he has shown himself a dishonourable fellow. He got the command, and now he won't marry her!"
"But, you know," observed Aunt Mary, "speaking openly, one can understand that this marriage does not particularly charm him. After all, what has Mimotchka? She is pretty, certainly. But, all the same, what sort of a match is it for him? He understands that he can do a great deal better.... And you will see that he won't marry her. Of course, all these explanations are only a pretext. It's as clear as the day that he simply doesn't want to marry her."
"But he must be made to marry her," said Aunt Julia. "It's impossible to compromise a girl like that and go unpunished."
It finished by the aunts almost quarrelling among themselves; but all the same mamma received from the intended a long and eloquent epistle, in which he declared that it was time to put an end to these disagreeable misunderstandings. For some time past he had been clearly convinced, both of his fiancée's indifference towards him, and of the inevitability of unpleasant encounters with his future mother-in-law; so that he would consider himself the most abject and dishonourable of men if, weighing all this, he did not decide to sacrifice his feelings and give back her promise to Mimotchka, asking her to consider herself perfectly free from that moment, and wishing her every happiness. In conclusion, he added that he was leaving Petersburg that day for N——, from where he would not fail to send the furniture and other things belonging to Mimotchka that had been already sent to furnish the little nest by her affectionate relations. There was a P.S., in which it Was mentioned that if mamma would like to sell the furniture, and if she would agree to let it go for ... (a modest figure was stated), then the fiancé would like to buy it, and would not fail to send the money.
Mamma, panting with excitement, and beside herself with vexation, read this letter to her sisters. The aunts comforted and quieted her.
"Well, perhaps it's for the best," said Aunt Sophy; "speaking openly, I never cared for him. I always felt that no good would come out of that connection."
"No, don't let us be partial," remarked Aunt Mary, "he has qualities.... Only, as a man that has been a good deal spoilt, he is perhaps a little selfish.... Yes, and wants to make a good career too.... That was evident from the very beginning. I must acknowledge that, when I heard that my late brother-in-law was asked to exert himself about getting that appointment, I said to my husband, "You may say what you like, but, il y a du louche."
"Well, let him go, and Heaven bless him!" concluded Aunt Julia. "There are as good fish in the sea as ever came out. Mimotchka can make a much better match. It's a good thing that he has left Petersburg. At any rate it will all be done with and forgotten. It's no use despairing. Believe me, everything is for the best."
And perhaps really it is all for the best. Thank Heaven, Mimotchka is once more engaged, once more receiving congratulations.... This time not only the day, but also the "hour" of the marriage is fixed, and that hour is so near that Aunt Julia's carriage and black horses are waiting at the door to take Mimotchka to the fashionable church where the guests are assembling.
And Mimotchka herself is sitting before her toilet-table in her pink, young girl's room, and looks in the glass, watching the movements of the coiffeur Gustave arranging her pretty hair.
On the bed, with its folded-back pink curtains, lies the white dress, the tulle veil, and the wreath of orange blossoms.