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Updated: May 11, 2025
Over the graves in the Lithuanian forests stand enormous crosses as enormous as those in Gogol's "Dreadful Vengance" and now, on the hill behind us, we discern two of them, one partly shattered and overhanging the other a bodeful grim reminder! Always soldiers, soldiers, soldiers. Not a single old man, not a single woman, not a single child.
The serfs and altogether the humble of this world, of course, he treated with even less ceremony. Once there came along this road one of the simple-hearted sons of wandering Russia, somewhat after the style of Gogol's divinity student, Homa Brut. He asked for a night's lodging, pleased the bailiffs, and was given a job at the office of the estate. There are many variations of the story.
Increasing population has converted this virgin soil into vast grainfields, less picturesque near at hand than the wild growth, but still deserving, from afar, of Gogol's enraptured apostrophe: "Devil take you, steppe, how beautiful you are!"
In my opinion that round, heavy summer-house on its clumsy columns, which combined the romantic charm of an old tomb with the ungainliness of a Sobakevitch,* was the most poetical nook in the whole town. It stood at the edge above the cliff, and from it there was a splendid view of the sea. *A character in Gogol's Dead Souls. "I sat down on the seat, and, bending over the parapet, looked down.
In 'Cesar Birotteau, for instance, he will be interested to note how Balzac stood at the beginning of the great things that have followed since in fiction. There is an interesting likeness between his work in this and Nicolas Gogol's in 'Dead Souls, which serves to illustrate the simultaneity of the literary movement in men of such widely separated civilizations and conditions.
In a very short time Gogol's fame spread throughout the length and breadth of the Empire, and many of his characters became as familiar to his countrymen as Sam Weller and Mrs. Gamp were to Englishmen. His descriptions were so graphic so like the world which everybody knew!
"To the Vinegar Sellers' Landing." The engine was put at full speed, and the launch rushed down stream towards Constantinople. Paul and Alexander looked at the retreating shore and at the lights of the embassy, fast growing dim in the distance. Paul wished himself alone in his quiet pavilion, with a cigarette and one of Gogol's novels.
He used to get up lectures and performances, and was always acting and mimicking. As children, the brothers got up a performance of Gogol's "Inspector General," in which Anton took the part of Gorodnitchy.
Levin had not the heart to disillusion him of the notion that there could be something delightful apart from her, and so said nothing. "There's some sense in this custom of saying good-bye to bachelor life," said Sergey Ivanovitch. "However happy you may be, you must regret your freedom." "And confess there is a feeling that you want to jump out of the window, like Gogol's bridegroom?"
And now I suppose we'd better say good-bye, hadn't we? Ever since I've been here I've had such a loathsome feeling, just as if I'd been reading Gogol's effusions to the governor of Kalouga's wife. By the way, I didn't tell them to take the horses out. 'Upon my word, this is too much! 'Why?
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