Ivan Turgenev: First Love - book review
A story about an obsessed teenager and a bunch of other older men being “in love” with a young woman, who manipulates each one of them without any remorse whatsoever. From what I understand, it’s quite an autobiographical story for Turgenev, which makes it extra cringe-worthy and personal—which may be interpreted as a compliment, depending on your perception and experience of your first love. The only value in it that I see is the way Turgenev describes the feeling of teenage obsession, that unrequited lust, that irrational feeling of putting a woman on a pedestal, all while being blinded by your hormones and tumultuous puberty. It did bring back some vivid memories, can’t deny that (although mine are mild compared to Turgenev’s). In that sense, Turgenev described the obsession well; he even used too much detail for my liking—not a big fan of flowery and overly-romantic language. Also, he was one dumb little kid for his age (16), the further you go into the story the more you go “ugh…really, man?”; but then you might suspect that this is all to prove a point against this kind of obsession—Turgenev does suggest that at the end:
“Yes, I thought, this is love, this is passion, this is devotion ... and I recalled the words of Lushin: to sacrifice oneself is sweet for others.”
“Да, думал я, вот это — любовь, это — страсть, это — преданность... и вспоминались мне слова Лушина: жертвовать собою сладко для иных.”
Yet, even at the end, when all is revealed (that she manipulated everyone), he (the teenage kid) still says,
“Believe me, Zinaida Aleksandrovna, no matter what you do, no matter how you torture me, I will love and adore you until the end of my days.”
“Поверьте, Зинаида Александровна, что бы вы ни сделали, как бы вы ни мучили меня, я буду любить и обожать вас до конца дней моих.”
If that’s not an unhealthy obsession I don’t know what it is. This isn’t love, this is blind teenage lust; but then love is subjective to some so go figure…
All in all, it’s an uncomfortable story to read, and it’s one that I barely finished, squinting and rolling my eyes from cringing all the time. Maybe I’m too old for this.
Regarding the characters—no one is likeable and it was really hard to sympathize with anyone; they all seemed pathetic.
I read the original (in Russian), and if it wasn’t for the last chapter (which was good), I’d probably give it a lower rating.
“O youth! youth! you have no concerns, you possess, as it were, all the treasures of the universe, even grief is a comfort to you, even sadness suits your looks, you are self-assured and bold, you say: ‘Look, I’m the only one alive!’ while the very days of your life run away and vanish without trace and everything in you disappears like wax, like snow in the heat of the sun…
& perhaps the entire secret of your charm consists not in the possibility of doing everything, but in the possibility that you can do everything, perhaps it consists precisely in the fact that u wantonly scatter on the wind energies that you wouldn’t know how to use for anything else……."
“О молодость! молодость! тебе нет ни до чего дела, ты как будто бы обладаешь всеми сокровищами вселенной, даже грусть тебя тешит, даже печаль тебе к лицу, ты самоуверенна и дерзка, ты говоришь: я одна живу — смотрите! а у самой дни бегут а исчезают без следа и без счета, и всё в тебе исчезает, как воск на солнце, как снег... И, может быть, вся тайна твоей прелести состоит не в возможности всё сделать, а в возможности думать, что ты всё сделаешь, — состоит именно в том, что ты пускаешь по ветру силы, которые ни на что другое употребить бы не умела, — в том, что каждый из нас не шутя считает себя расточителем, не шутя полагает, что он вправе сказать: ‘О, что бы я сделал, если б я не потерял времени даром!’.”
Rating: 2.5/5