Fathers and Sons (Dover Thrift Editions) [Paperback]

The struggle between the generations. It's nasty, heartbreaking and futile. And it's easily recognisable by about all young men who've fought to build a personality independent of their parents. The young regard with disdain efforts by the ancients to "understand" the new generation. The old recall with regret their vanquished youth and cannot understand why their grown-up children shun them. As Nikolai Petrovich notes all old people were young once too. It's a vicious merry-go-round from father to son to his son on and on and explored in F&S to brutal effect. What is it all for - this existence with its sighs, hopes, banalities and the crushing disappointments and humiliations that one must endure to get to the finishing line? Nihilism. Love. Duty. Faith. Reason. Tradition. Each to his own as Turgenev's characters disperse.

One of the many delights of reading fiction from any literary period is the sense of timeless authority fashioned by the rich imaginations of talented writers. Although the historical settings may seem distant the characters behave pretty much as they do today, for example, they feel pain, fall in love, philosophise, act benevolently, contradict themselves, are conceited and pretentious. And these traits of human nature are compassionately handled by Turgenev in a novel that skilfully captures the ageless dilemma of youthful idealism (the sons) versus contented maturity (the fathers) thrust against the socio-political conservatism and burgeoning radicalism of mid 19th century Russia. The principle protagonist, Bazarov, is the archetypal angry young man, an Epicurean nihilist with romantic tendencies! Such are the contradictory dimensions belonging to this strain of Russian reactionaries, who want to destroy society's institutions whilst not caring about what to put in their place. In dismissing the existing social order and its moral obligations Bazarov is forced to confront his own despair and loss. In a telling passage Bazarov details, to his friend Arkady, his sense of `spiritual' insignificance in an indifferent universe, "I feel nothing but depression and rancour." Bazarov, however, is only human, and when he encounters the independent, educated, beautiful widow, Madame Odintsov, his self-imposed emotional detachment is tested to breaking point with catastrophic consequences. The story is an extraordinary examination of the cost of moral principles even if you think, as Bazarov does, you don't have any. This edition contains an excellent lecture and introduction detailing Turgenev's literary life, contemporary reaction to Fathers and Sons and the political climate of the period.

Because there are several editions of this novel available to buy, and some much cheaper than this one, I first wanted to highlight that I believe this one is by far the best to date, for two reasons: the translator, Rosemary Edmonds's version, is elegant and smooth, and her own introduction is excellent - providing meaningful reflection and understanding not only of the novel, but Turgenev's talent, other works, and the political and literary times he lived through. The second major reason is because this edition (I think) is the only one that contains Isaiah Berlin's brilliant, insightful lecture on the novel that he first gave in 1970, and was included in this edition from 1975 onwards, and that offers much insight into the novel's historical context and background in terms of philosophy and politics in Russia during Turgenev's lifetime.

While I also love the fiction of Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy, having read this, still Turgenev's most famous and popular novel, followed then by reading Edmonds introduction, I was not surprised to learn from her that it was Turgenev who proved to be the most popular Russian novelist in Europe during the shared lifetimes of these three giant authors and, throughout the 1850s and 60s, Turgenev was likewise and the most famous and popular in Russia - while, fascinatingly, also being the most controversial - there was passionate debate both for and against Turgenev and this novel - that continued at least up until the 1950s! - despite having spent most of his life abroad, living in Paris, in particular (while always devoted to Russia and its people, he was definitely a passionate Europhile).

Turgenev's greater popularity, compared with his two most famous counterparts, I feel, rests on the deeper humanity and, thereby, psychological and emotional complexity, he breathes into his principal characters from their first introduction; whereas with Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy, it seems to me that their own characters' complexity originates more from subsequent experiences of trauma, crisis and conflict in their lives.

Of the characters themselves, there is much to enjoy, be engaged as well as challenged by. Bazarov and Arkady, university students, take a holiday together, visiting Arkady's landlord and liberal-minded, caring father (Nikolai) and uncle (Pavel), formerly a distinguished army captain, at Nikolia's farm and home, with whom Pavel also lives. The conflict between `fathers and sons' is played out primarily in this holiday, arising because of Bazarov's deepseated nihilism and his insistent, relentlessly stern advocacy of his negative, annihilistic views as he expresses them towards Nikolai and Pavel.

The story is worth reading just two characters alone: Bazarov himself, who is vividly infuriating and an anti-hero one will never forget on reading. He is supremely arrogant and contemptuous of others; recognising no rules of conduct or recognition of anything of value, save that which he himself defines and determines; is rude to his charming and much devoted friend, Arkady, who is himself in such awe of Bazarov and he can't help but give allegiance to him and his negative vision and attitude towards society, history, life in general (and particular). Even though this allegiance, along with Bazarov's comments, confound and upset Arkady's father - and frankly infuriate Pavel, ironically it is Bazarov's nihilistic own rejection of Arkady's friendship that brings Arkady to his senses, thereby explicitly reaffirming his humanism, empathy and love he always felt for both his father and uncle.

While Nikolai and Arkady are also very well drawn, besides Bazarov, the other character who is memorable, amusing - with a caustic sense of humour and irony -superbly realised, and great fun to read about - is Pavel. He's a Russian who, while now elderly, remains as he was from his youth: distinguished, handsome, a reputation as a `lady-killer', with an aristocratic flair, and besotted with English bespoke and colourful tailoring and fancy accoutrements (handkerchiefs, cufflinks, neckerchiefs). He's also deeply civilised, graceful, yet in no doubt of his views, with a strong and independent viewpoint and depth of character. He is also deeply generous and caring, having giving much of his money to Nikolai, to help him keep his farm and land.

And the intense debates between Pavel (increasingly infuriated), and Bazarov (bored, steely, deeply rude and negative), are worth the price of the novel many times over.