My one-book-leads-to-another shelf gets a lot of use. The motivation to read a book I've delayed reading always gets a kickstart when I see it referred to in another book. In this case, the book title wasn't mentioned, just the author's name. Yes, Hervé Le Tellier mentioned Ivan Goncharov in [b:L'Anomalie|53970536|L'Anomalie|Hervé Le Tellier|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1591947943l/53970536._SX50_.jpg|84339980], and as 'Oblomov' had been lying about in my house for years, sometimes by the bed, sometimes on a table beside the sofa, regularly dust-laden and generally the worse for wear, I thought it time to discover what 'Oblomov' was about. Well, it's about a man who lies about on his bed or on his sofa and whose clothes are dust-laden and the worse for wear. What was it Oscar Wilde said about life imitating art?

“Oh my gosh! Life just won't leave me alone.”
I debated for a long time whether to give this a 3 or 4 star rating (yes, I know, my rating scale is low) but the further I got from the end of reading this book, the more I became convinced that only 4 stars could do justice to it. No, this is not a perfect novel, it even contains some fundamental weaknesses, but I can't help it, in the end Ilya Ilich Oblomov's tragicomic character captivated me. Even more than Prince Myshkin, Dostoyevsky's Idiot, he managed to convince me of his sincerity, truthfulness, and pure heart. The latter sounds very pathetic, I know, but apparently I have enough sentimental romanticism in me for people like Ilya Ilich to break my heart.

I am not going to analyze this book too much, that has been done so many times, with and without expertise. What particularly charmed me is that our poor Oblomov realizes all too well that he is an aberration, that his inherent lethargy has no place, especially in a society (Russia in the first half of the 19th century) that is undergoing rapid change. I was constantly struck by the passages in which Oblomov laments his fate and says he does not know who he really is, and why he is the way he is.
At the same time, he knows how to pinpoint the new, modern society that is about to dawn, to expose the emptiness of busy, industrious existence: “The perpetual running to and fro, the perpetual play of petty desires, especially greed , people trying to spoil things for others, the tittle-tattle, the gossip, the slights, the way they look you up and down. You listen to what they're talking about and it makes your head spin. It's stupefying... It's tedium. Tedium! Where is the human being in this? Where is his integrity? Where did it go? How did it get exchanged for all this pettiness?”

And I know it all too well: what Oblomov offers as alternative, his permanent inertia, is so unrealistic and even immoral (his friend Stolz rubs it in hard). But at the same time, Oblomov's representation of the ideal life touches me: “After that, I put on a roomy coat or jacket, put my arm around my wife's waist, and she and I take a stroll down the endless, dark allée, walking quietly, thoughtfully, silent or thinking out loud, daydreaming, counting my minutes of happiness like the beating of a pulse, listening to my heart beat and sink, seeking sympathy in nature, and before we know it we come out on a stream and field . The river is lapping a little, ears of grain are waving in the breeze, and it's hot. We get into the boat and my wife steers us, barely lifting her oar.”
Goncharov, through Oblomov, has perfectly succeeded in exposing the splits of modern man: the nervous drive towards constant change and improvement as opposed to the childish yearning for simplicity, security and bliss. 4 stars, well deserved.

PS. I read Maria Schwartz's English translation (2008), based on the 1862 version edited by Gontsharov himself, which is far preferable to the 1859 original.

Read in Dutch, a very long time ago. A Russian classic as ever there is, but somehow it didn't resonate. Have to reread this.

Made it 40% of the way through, then left it. Two years on and I figure I won't finish it. I did enjoy what I read. I loved the depiction of the out-of-touch aristocracy. I wasn't sure to what extent I was supposed to find the main character humorous. Perhaps a 21st century awareness of mental health stifles the fun. The pace was quite uneven which made it hard to persevere. I perhaps didn't help myself by going for the only translation the library had (a dated early/mid-20th century translation) instead of buying a more modern translation.

Ruská klasika není pro každého. Objemné knihy s poetickými popisy a pomalu plynoucím dějem, nezapamatovatelná jména... to vše může čtenáře odrazovat.A přitom se často jedná o takové poklady! Gončarov sepsal psychologické drama které je naprosto strhující a přitom neuvěřitelně prosté. Nekomplikovaný děj překypuje emocemi a povahy aktérů jsou zachyceny s naprostou precizností.

Pro mě to byl další z nezapomenutelných čtenářskych zážitků a připomenutí toho, že je škoda kvůli lákavým knižním novinkám opomíjet díla 'prověřená věkem'.

dnf

Olga ve oblomovun hiç olmayan evladı olabilir miyim acaba