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*Translated by Isabel Hapgood. The whole book is dominated by the gigantic figure of old Taras Bulba, who loves food and drink, but who would rather fight than eat. Like so many Russian novels, it begins at the beginning, not at the second or third chapter.
As illustrations of this quality of vastness, one has only to recall two Russian novels one the longest, and the other very nearly the shortest, in the whole range of Slavonic fiction. I refer to "War and Peace," by Tolstoi, and to "Taras Bulba," by Gogol.
If any one made a search or inspection, he did it chiefly for his own pleasure, especially if there happened to be in the waggon objects attractive to his eye, and if his own hand possessed a certain weight and power. But the bricks found no admirers, and they entered the principal gate unmolested. Bulba, in his narrow cage, could only hear the noise, the shouts of the driver, and nothing more.
All three Jews looked at each other. "We might try," said the third, glancing timidly at the other two. "God may favour us." All three Jews discussed the matter in German. Bulba, in spite of his straining ears, could make nothing of it; he only caught the word "Mardokhai" often repeated. "Listen, my lord!" said Yankel.
But next day Taras Bulba had a conference with the new Koschevoi as to the method of exciting the Cossacks to some enterprise. The Koschevoi, a shrewd and sensible Cossack, who knew the Zaporozhtzi thoroughly, said at first, "Oaths cannot be violated by any means"; but after a pause added, "No matter, it can be done. We will not violate them, but let us devise something.
There were likewise many brave Cossacks among those who preferred to remain, including the kuren hetmans, Demitrovitch, Kukubenko, Vertikhvist, Balan, and Ostap Bulba.
The "Evenings on a Farm" indicates the possession of great power rather than consummate skill in the use of it. Full of charm as it is, it cannot by any stretch of language be called a masterpiece. Two years later, however, Gogol produced one of the great prose romances of the world, "Taras Bulba."
After this he ascended the scaffold. "Well done, son! well done!" said Bulba, softly, and bent his grey head. The executioner tore off his old rags; they fastened his hands and feet in stocks prepared expressly, and We will not pain the reader with a picture of the hellish tortures which would make his hair rise upright on his head.
They looked very handsome in their black sheepskin caps, with cloth-of-gold crowns. When their poor mother saw them, she could not utter a word, and tears stood in her eyes. "Now, my lads, all is ready; no delay!" said Bulba at last. "But we must first all sit down together, in accordance with Christian custom before a journey."
I will give you five thousand. Here are two thousand on the spot," and Bulba poured out two thousand ducats from a leather purse, "and the rest when I return." The Jew instantly seized a towel and concealed the ducats under it. "Ai, glorious money! ai, good money!" he said, twirling one gold piece in his hand and testing it with his teeth.
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