by
Hugh R. Whinfrey
Ilya Ilyich Oblomov is a fertile literary character. When Goncharov sets him in motion with nineteenth century Russia as the background, the consequent interplay of forces leads to a wealth of generalizations about both the man and the environment. Many of these generalizations are in fact social commentaries by the author. This paper will examine several of the components used to construct Oblomov's personality in order to make these social commentaries, and then offer an assessment of Goncharov's level of insight.
Oblomov is established as a likely individual to be inhabiting his Russian society by the plausible past Goncharov bestows upon him. He has upper class breeding, background, education, estate, and financial resources. As a young man he sets off for a job with the civil service, with all the expectations of adventures to be encountered on the path of life so typical of the onset of adulthood in any society. He goes to parties, balls, and other social events suitable for a bachelor of his age and privileged stature.
From this benign background Oblomov proceeds into a premature mid-life crisis, bringing what would normally be an only temporary paralysis into his life. After a few years he becomes frustrated with his job in the civil service, and takes his leave of it to better manage the affairs of his estate. But instead of dealing with his estate, he retreats into isolation and apathy. While such behavior is unusual, it is still possible to view Oblomov at this point as an individual who is just going through an exceptional inner conflict.
However, when the mid-life crisis is resolved by the predestined choice of retreat back to the womb, Oblomov ceases to be an individual and becomes instead a pregnant literary vehicle. Accompanying this choice is the absolute elimination from his consciousness of all aspects of the responsibility-requesting real world, of whose dreary unimaginative flavor he had tasted enough. The paralysis becomes permanent as he chooses to remain a child.
One of the main premises to the generalizations that can be drawn from the novel is the childish Oblomov personifies the summation of the Russian landed gentry. The symbolism is unmistakable. Oblomov's dressing gown, representing the cultural layer within which men are clothed, is described as having "no hint of Europe" and a "brilliant oriental color" (14)1. This is a very direct reference to the Tatar-descended ways of the upper class. Stolz, Oblomov's alter-ego, is half German, explicitly highlighting the European descent of what is not Oblomov.
Selected features of this eastern mentality are used in defining Oblomov with two distinct yet interrelated consequences. The first is to add to the evidence that Oblomov symbolizes the entire ruling class. The second consequence is to focus the reader on these specific traits of the elite. The conclusion Goncharov attempts to guide his audience into drawing about the landed gentry is best described with his own words through the symbolism of the dressing gown: it is "soft and flexible", "so light" that he does not "feel its weight", and obeys "the least movement of his body like a devoted slave."(14) In explicit terms, Goncharov is advancing the thesis that the ruling class is so pampered by its culture that it is unable to comprehend the realities of the system of serfdom.
This thesis is certainly adequately and bluntly addressed with respect to the pampered Oblomov. The depiction of serfdom as an evil institution is a path on which Goncharov, a government censor for a large part of his life, treads far more gingerly. No brutal injustices to the serfs at happy Oblomovka are described. The characters partake in no philosophical debates about serfdom. The only explicit references that something might be amiss with the system are in Oblomov's troubles with runaway serfs, before Stolz restores the estate to order, and a suggestive reference to "the emancipation of women"(33) by the cryptically "dressed with studied negligence"(33) Penkin.
Instead, the author uses a quick but subtle approach to paint serfdom black, creating a paradox as the vehicle which not only colors serfdom appropriately but also completes the thesis. On the last page of the book, Stolz sums up the deceased Oblomov's character as "intelligent as anybody, his soul was pure and clear as crystal--noble, affectionate"(485). This tender conclusion about Oblomov stands in horrifying contrast to the bitter fate of Zakhar, Oblomov's frumpy yet truly devoted serf. Oblomov simply could not be such a noble fellow and leave Zakhar to such a fate. The paradox can only be resolved by concluding that Oblomov was completely culturally incapable of comprehending the inhumanity of serfdom.
Goncharov's use of Oblomov in attacking the relationship between the nobility and the serfs is effective in the sense that at least some of the readers understood the message. The novel is critically acclaimed for its condemnation of serfdom. However, this thesis comes dangerously close to being blurred into an indistinguishable background because it is only one of many themes woven throughout the work,-- for example, all of the philosophical questions provoked by the contrasting lifestyles of Stolz and Oblomov. These are probed in considerable detail, and would not diminish in importance even if the negative side of serfdom had been more forcefully and explicitly addressed. While some allowance must be made for the censorship under which the book was written, to describe Oblomov simply as a personification of the social problem of serfdom would be to ignore the many other themes in which Oblomov plays a powerful role.
Although the characterization of Oblomov is too complex to reduce to just one issue, such as serfdom, the multiple dimensions of different themes do have a cohesiveness in that they explore the depth of the roots of the entire concept of an upper class. While Zakhar accepts Oblomov because otherwise he would have no master over him (17), Oblomov proceeds to live a lazy slothful life, contributing nothing to society. Goncharov seems particularly obsessed with the abundance of benefits that flow to the few who do the managing and own the capital in his society.
The author takes this obsession to the extreme, moving Oblomov past the realm of a pure personification and towards that of a caricature of the nobility. The fact that the lazy Oblomov does not even get out of bed for the first 150 pages of the novel is an integral part of the caricature and symbolically poses a strongly-worded rhetorical question about the usefulness of the upper class.
Some of the humorous absurdities that contribute to the caricature are found in the initial descriptions of Oblomov. After his thoughts vanish completely "serene unconcern" spreads all over his face (13). "It was clear that he was in the throes of some inner struggle, and reason had not yet come to his aid."(15) Goncharov even makes the point that Oblomov's laziness is so extreme that the adjective "lazy" is no longer applicable with the statement that lying down was his normal condition; not as for a sick, tired or lazy man (14).
The caricature really achieves its effectiveness through sheer volume, even the most simple-minded reader cannot avoid discerning that Oblomov is extremely lazy. However Goncharov pursues it in a relentlessly pure form past the point where his message has been delivered. For the reader of such an attack on the nobility, it is natural to expect a robust condemnation of lavishly excessive consumption. Yet Oblomov is so lethargic that he is too lazy to even participate in scenes where such could be described, weakening the connection between the caricature and the nobility.
The integration of the individual, the personification and the caricature yield Oblomov as an overpowering literary character, rich with symbolism, yet absolutely human. In fact, Oblomov is such a masterful creation that he could with very little modification be ported to any given society in any given era and still symbolize negatives about a ruling class. In this respect Goncharov seems to have been a man ahead of his time, as this is exactly the type of character one would expect from a highly politicized Soviet writer.
Seattle, February 1991.
Endnotes
1 Ivan Goncharov, Oblomov, Penguin Books, 1954, transl. David Magarshack. All parathensized numbers refer to page numbers in this edition. |