1892
Moves to St. Petersburg to teach, later becomes a district inspector. Associated with the journal The Northern Herald (Severnyi vestnik) in which he publishes poetry, short stories and his first novel, Bad Dreams (Tiazhelye sny, 1895). Adopts the name of Sologub.
1892–1902
Writes The Petty Demon (Melkii bes), serialized in Questions of Life (Voprosy zhizni) in 1905, in book form, 1907
1894–1912
Writes novel Sweeter Than Poison (Slashche iada), serialized in The New Life (Novaia zhizn’, 1912)
1896–1908
Publishes eight volumes of poetry
1896–1921
Publishes nine collections of short stories
1907
Publishes first play, “Liturgy to Myself” (Liturgiia mne) in The Scales (Vesy). Sologub wrote twelve original plays, 1907–1922. Retires from education. Beloved sister and companion Olga dies.
1907–1913
Publishes trilogy. Original title is Phantom Spells (Nav’i chary); as a later, revised version: The Created Legend (Tvorimaia legenda, 1914)
1908
Marries Anastasia Chebotarevskaya. The Flaming Circle (Plamennyi krug) published: His most popular collection of verses written from 1900 to 1907
1909–1914
Publishing firms Shipovnik-Sirin issue collected works in twenty volumes: one book of articles and tales, one of drama, five of poetry, six of short stories and seven of novels
1915–1921
Continues to publish collections of poetry, short stories and the novel The Snake Charmer (Zaklinatel’nitsa zmei, 1921)
1921
Denied permission to travel abroad; wife commits suicide
1923
Branded “out-moded” and “counter-revolutionary” and unable to publish. Works at translating and editing
1927
December 5, dies after a long illness
THE GROTESQUE IN FEDOR SOLOGUB’S
NOVEL THE PETTY DEMON*
LINDA J. IVANITS
THE PRESENT STUDY is an exploration of the relationship between byt and the fantastic in The Petty Demon. The very title of the novel hints at a possibility: that the pettiness and vulgarity of everyday life—poshlost’—are a mask of the demonic. The cosmos of the novel, appearing initially to be a typical provincial society, slips almost imperceptibly into an inferno. The artistic method through which poshlost’ is integrated with the demonic is the grotesque.
A few words should be said about the concept of the grotesque underlying this study. Recently the grotesque has been described both as the trivial perceived as demonic and as the demonic made trivial.1 This seems accurate with the qualification that in literature as well as in painting and sculpture the combination of the trivial and demonic takes a highly visual form. The grotesque is a particular distortion of the usual representation of man, and as such it implies a play with the concept of what it is to be human. This distortion is frequently achieved through a joining of elements from the animal, plant, spirit, and mechanical worlds with human elements. Often bodily confines are violated and extended to ludicrous or obscene proportions. In the case of nonhuman creatures the form is humanized, yet remains lacking in genuine humanity. In the grotesque object the trivial and the obscene yield to the uncanny and vice versa so that an uncomfortably estranging effect, perhaps best described as simultanenously ridiculous and sinister, results.2
The above understanding seems to apply to such figures as Gothic gargoyles, the strange creatures of Hieronymous Bosch’s hell, Pieter Bruegel’s illustrated proverbs, Jacques Callot’s sketches for the Commedia dell’Arte, and many of the paintings and sketches of Francisco Goya—all of which are generally accepted as grotesque.3 Other aspects of the grotesque include a particular type of motion which is gestic and apparently unmotivated and which tends to turn back on itself. The dance of death, consisting of jerky hops and strange contortions, has been called the archetypal grotesque motion.4 Senseless, impromptu acts of spite, obscenity, and scandalmongering are common activities, and they imply abrupt, directionless motion. Insanity is a frequent motif accompanying the presentation of grotesque characters because it provides a cover for irrational behavior.
A particular type of scenery which conveys the feeling of a defined space and is at the same time cluttered and colorful is characteristic of the grotesque. Parties and masquerades are frequent settings because they provide an element of artificiality and estrangement. If the grotesque object is placed outdoors, then nature tends to come alive and acquire a hostile mien. Language is a significant factor in the presentation of grotesque characters. Words tend to lose their value as a means of exchanging ideas, and they often acquire a magical significance. A character’s language, like his motion, tends to be abrupt and illogical.5
The Petty Demon contains an entire roster of grotesque figures. Three primary means of rendering characters grotesque are used: (1) the exaggeration and repetition of one or two salient physical features, (2) metaphor, and (3) literary allusion. The effect in most cases is that the chracters are not rendered so overwhelmingly unhuman as to be totaly fantastic. They remain a part of provincial byt, yet at the same time their essential humanity is called into question, and they are given identities within a demonology.
THE CHARACTERS
The major character and focal point of The Petty Demon is Peredonov, a paranoid schoolmaster who is obsessed by a desire to be promoted to the position of inspector of public schools. He was modeled on a teacher whom Sologub knew personally when he taught in the Russian provinces, and this prototype, like the character generated from him, was to Sologub the very incarnation of poshlost’.6 Peredonov’s is the most elaborate portrait in The Petty Demon, and it is possible to visualize him rather precisely. Basically he is drawn from the outside in, through externals which serve both to create a pictorial representation and to reflect the status of his soul. His face is ruddy, sleepy, and generally indifferent. He has small, puffy eyes framed in gold-rimmed glasses; his eyes are expressionless and as his insanity increases they become vacant “like the eyes of a dead man.”7 He has chestnut brown hair which is thinning, and he is gaining weight around the middle—suggestions that he is approaching middle age. To avoid catching cold, Peredonov wears an overcoat, even in warm weather. His tendency to encase himself in an overcoat indicates a fear of his surroundings, and thus points to his paranoia. The indifference and lack of emotion in his face and eyes suggest that he is somehow lifeless.
Comparisons of Peredonov to a corpse, a pig, a puppet, and a devil are especially important in rendering him grotesque. The metaphor of the walking corpse (khodiachii trup) is the logical culmination of a visual representation stressing lack of emotion and lifelessness. The comparison of Peredonov to a puppet serves to mechanize him; the suggestion is that someone other than he is in control of his movements. Significantly, this comparison is used when he is engaged in a hysterical, awkward dance, which may be considered a dance of death (257). Peredonov’s mistress Varvara is the first person in the novel to call him a pig; it is her response to his spitting in her face. Possibly the most striking comparison of Peredonov to a pig is in the form of a pun on the word “piatachek,” which means both “five-kopeck piece” and “pig snout” in Russian. Peredonov’s friend Rutilov asks him if he has a five-kopeck piece (piatachek) and then reasons that if Peredonov has a pig snout (piatachek), he must be a pig (60–61). Terrified, Peredonov grabs his nose to make sure it is human, but when he asserts that he has a “human mug” (chelovech ‘ia kharia), he uses a term which may also apply to a pig (kharia). The implication is that he may be a pig after all.
In folklore and the literary tradition the pig is a common embodiment of the devil, and no doubt in The Petty Demon too these images are interconnected.8 While the metaphor of the pig points directly to Peredonov’s vulgarity, that of the devil suggests the demonic side of his personality. Rutilov calls Peredonov a devil several times, and on one o
ccasion calls him a devil in eyeglasses, thus adding a human and comic touch to the traditional image of the devil. Another significant instance in Which Peredonov is called a devil occurs at the very end of the novel just before his murder of Volodin. Varvara, now his wife, repeats the common saying, “Husband and wife make one devil” (Muzh da zhena—odna Satana, 382). The suggestion may be that Peredonov’s demon stature grows during the course of the novel; he is no longer an ordinary devil (chert, bes), but the “prince of darkness” (Satana).9
The metaphors used in Peredonov’s depiction dehumanize him by emphasizing his lifelessness and by suggesting that he has another, non-human essence—that of a pig/demon. The presence of bodily hungers—appetite—in the place of emotion and feeling tends to further dehumanize Peredonov. Vodka is perhaps the most obvious sign of appetite in The Petty Demon. A staple of Peredonov and his friends, it runs through the novel as a leitmotif accompanying Peredonov on visits, present at his parties, and present too at his slaying of Volodin. As Peredonov’s paranoia grows, his intake of vodka increases until, towards the end of the novel, he begin to appear at the school drunk. Varvara excuses Peredonov’s strange (insane) behavior as drunkenness, and this causes her no worry. Vodka and cards are the only means Peredonov has of entertaining his friends, an indication of the meagerness of his imagination. Here too the folk tradition provides a framework for interpretation: it was believed that a drunk was one of the devil’s favorite hosts and that card-playing was a common entertainment among devils and witches.10
As is freqent in the creation of the grotesque object, the motif of the buffoon is combined with that of the demon in Peredonov’s characterization. This is most evident in the ridiculous yet sinister antics in which he engages. For example, on his wedding day Peredonov reddens his cheeks with Varvara’s rouge, paints “P’s” on his chest, attempts to wear one of Varvara’s corsets, and, finally, tries to have his hair cut in an imaginary “Spanish style”—all to distinguish himself from Volodin. The comic element in Peredonov’s buffoonery is diminished by the error in conceptual thinking which underlies it. His paranoia is by now so acute that he believes Volodin will “crawl under his skin” and assume his identity, his wife, and the inspectorship. This series of antics is uncanny partly because it illustrates the power which words have acquired over Peredonov. A statement which originally was a general formulation of the fear that Volodin wanted to marry Varvara and become the inspector—“Perhaps he’s even thinking of marrying Varvara and crawling under my skin, (71)”—has become for Peredonov a literal possibility.
In general Peredonov’s language is plays the same abruptness and lack of transition as his motion. His speech usually consists of short units, often of only one or two words. Although his language is vulgar, it tends to be grammatically correct (in contrast to that of Varvara and Volodin). As a rule Peredonov does not initiate conversation, but rather reacts to someone else’s words; and there is a notable absence of formal greetings and the usual politeness of social convention in his speech. He uses substandard words in place of the standard lexicon: for “face” (litso) he substitutes “mug” and “snout” (kharia, rozha, rylo, morda), and he refers to his friends by debasing diminutive forms of their names (“Varka” rather than “Varvara,” “Pavlushka” rather than “Pavel”).11 For Peredonov language is a means of fulfilling bodily needs, of abusing, of spreading gossip, of charming, and of countercharming; words have lost their value as a means of exchanging ideas and opinions. Yet, at the same time, they have acquired magic powers: this is clear from the terror which the pun on “piatachek” inspires in Peredonov and from his fear that Volodin will literally “crawl under his skin.”
The settings in which Peredonov is placed tend to take on his sullenness and become extentions of his personality. Hints are given that his apartment is dirty and smelly; it is certainly stuffy, since to avoid drafts Peredonov refuses to open the window. Nature particularly mirrors Peredonov’s inner state. He is often pictured alone outdoors going to and from places. Streets, trees, grass, physical surroundings, and especially the weather take on his moods and reflect his boredom, anguish, and fear. As Peredonov’s paranoia increases and he becomes deader, nature comes alive and seems hostile to him: “The heavens frowned. The wind blew straight at him. … The trees did not want to give shade. … But dust rose up in the form of a long, half-transparent gray serpent. Why is the sun hiding behind a cloud—could it be spying?” (285).
Peredonov’s pictorial delineation, achieved through a combination of human, animal, mechanical, and demonic traits, is the first of many such creations in The Petty Demon. The two persons closest to Peredonov, Varvara and Volodin, are also genuinely grotesque. Varvara’s physical representation is acheived through a juxtaposition of contradictions. She has a wrinkled face on which there is a lewd and spiteful expression, but her body is beautiful, like that “of a gentle nymph with the head of a withered harlot attached to it by the power of some despicable spell” (72). The motifs of mechanization and the mask are used in Varvara’s characterization. The high heels she wears cause her walk to be jerky, and she is so heavily powdered and rouged that her blushing cannot be seen. In Varvara’s creation there is a certain identity of mask and face: the vulgarity which her heavy make-up suggests is painted on top of the lewdness which accompanies her decaying beauty. For the social visits which she makes after her marriage, Varvara dons a new hat adorned with flowers in all colors. Thus another element, this time from the plant world, is added to the motley amalgamation which makes up her visual image.
Hints are given that Varvara has a witch nature. Peredonov senses that she has the power to charm him. He is alarmed because she cooks from a black book, a suggestion of sorcery; and he fears that she has the ability to cast a spell on him with cards. Indeed, Varvara, like the rest of the novel’s society, believes in black magic. She is able to recognize her crony Grushina’s abilities at sorcery, and she immediately suspects sorcery when a hat which Peredonov left in his former apartment is returned (46, 251).
The only person in the novel who sincerely likes Peredonov is Volodin, yet Volodin, is the person from whom Peredonov suspects the brunt of the attack against him. Volodin’s physical creation is based on the motif of metamorphosis: he is, as his name implies, amazingly ram-like. He bleats his way into the novel, and, after Peredonov cuts his throat, he bleats, squeals, and chokes his way out (25,383). Even in a society characterized by a lack of intellectual interests, Volodin’s bestial stupidity stands out. This is particularly evident in his language, which is totaly insipid and devoid of meaning. An especially incongruous touch is added to Volodin’s depiction by Peredonov’s attempt to marry him to Nadezhda Adamenko, an attractive, intelligent girl who spends her time reading books and has no part in the day to day affairs of the novel’s town. As a couple they are a complete mismatch, both visually and intellectually. The costume Volodin grafts on his ram-like frame while courting Nadezhda renders him additionally ludicrous: he wears a tight fitting frock coat, a freshly starched shirt, a gaudy necktie, and his wooly hair is pasted down with pomade and scented.
The two widows Vershina and Grushina play a significant role in Peredonov’s fate. Vershina wants to marry Peredonov to her ward, an awkward Polish girl named Marta, and she therefore beckons him into her house whenever he passes. Grushina is Varvara’s confidante in her attempts to marry Peredonov, and it is she who forges letters promising Peredonov the inspectorship. But Vershina is also involved in the ruse of the letters. She instills suspicion into Peredonov about the authenticity of the first one, thus causing Varvara to have Grushina forge a second; moreover, at the end of the novel she tells Peredonov outright that the second letter was a forgery and thus directly precipitates the murder of Volodin.
Vershina is an obvious witch. She is a small, thin, prematurely wizened woman with black eyes and brows, a dark complexion, and dark yellow teeth, and she always dresses in black. Her gestures are smooth, almost imperceptible, her smi
le is crooked, and her tone of voice monotonous. Vershina is a chain smoker, and she should be visualized with puffs of smoke rising in front of her. Vershina’s garden is an important part of her characterization; it is lush and vibrant with color, and it is chaotic. This garden and the gray house within it form the only setting for the many meetings between Peredonov and her, for, unlike most of Peredonov’s other friends, she never visits him at his home. During these meetings he is in her territory, an enchanted realm, and the implication is that he is also under her spell.
While Vershina is depicted in black, gray is used for Grushina, and dust rather than smoke is her characterizing motif. She gives the impression that she never washes and that “if she were struck several times with a carpet beater, a column of dust would rise to the very heavens” (42). This emphasis on dirtiness is bolstered by Grushina’s corresponding vulgarity, the immodesty of her conversation, and the general depravity of her life. Her house is slovenly, and her walls are decorated with poorly-drawn pictures of naked women. This house, like Vershina’s house and garden, is an important locus of action in the novel. It is here that the forgery takes place and that Peredonov, during a party, makes his final decision to marry Varvara.
Certain parallels in the depictions of Vershina and Grushina are evident. Their names are phonetically similar, and each is drawn through the use of color (black-gray) and a corresponding motif (smoke-dust).12 It seems, however, that Vershina’s witch nature is more striking. Significantly, except for the business of finding Marta a husband, she scarcely Seems to be a part of the provincial byt of the novel; she belongs almost wholly to the supernatural. It is likely that Grushina is also a witch; she is a known fortune-teller. Nevertheless, this witch nature is hidden under layers of dirt, and her involvement in the petty affairs of the town serves to ingrain her in byt. In a sense Vershina and Grushina may be considered the two aspects of a total, grotesque personality: the demonic predominates in Vershina, but poshlost’ is more obvious in Grushina.
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