Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

Fathers & Sons
Fathers & Sons
Fathers & Sons
Ebook306 pages4 hours

Fathers & Sons

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

4/5

()

Read preview

About this ebook

Ivan Turgenev's 'Fathers & Sons' is a masterpiece of Russian literature, exploring the generational divide between the old and new Russia through the relationship between a young nihilist, Bazarov, and his traditionalist father. Turgenev's intricate narrative delves into themes of love, family, politics, and social change, capturing the zeitgeist of mid-19th century Russia. With its rich character development and thought-provoking dialogue, the novel stands as a classic example of the Russian Realist tradition. Turgenev's elegant prose and nuanced portrayal of human emotions make 'Fathers & Sons' a compelling read that continues to resonate with readers today.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateDec 21, 2018
ISBN9788027246908
Fathers & Sons
Author

Ivan Turgenev

Ivan Turgenev was a Russian writer whose work is exemplary of Russian Realism. A student of Hegel, Turgenev’s political views and writing were heavily influenced by the Age of Enlightenment. Among his most recognized works are the classic Fathers and Sons, A Sportsman’s Sketches, and A Month in the Country. Turgenev is today recognized for his artistic purity, which influenced writers such as Henry James and Joseph Conrad. Turgenev died in 1883, and is credited with returning Leo Tolstoy to writing as the result of his death-bed plea.

Read more from Ivan Turgenev

Related to Fathers & Sons

Related ebooks

Literary Fiction For You

View More

Related articles

Reviews for Fathers & Sons

Rating: 3.858354286180905 out of 5 stars
4/5

1,592 ratings51 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    "We sit in the mud, my friend, and reach for the stars."First published in 1862 this novel is a piece of classic literature written by an author who at the time was considered as one of Russia's most ‘liberal’ authors and it addresses some of the differences of the period between the generations. Central to the story are two sons, Bazarov and Arkady, and their respective fathers focusing mainly on the relationship between Arkady and his father Nikolai.The novel was written at a time when the class system was undergoing major changes within Russian society. Bazarov believes that changes to the old tradition are good and essential, Nikolai’s brother Pavel fears and loathes it whereas Nikolai is simply trying to make the best of it. Bazarov is the central character of this novel. He is a nihilist who utterly rejects all the values on which society is based and spends a lot of time emphasizing on the importance of equality. He doesn't put much of store in art and romanticism but when he falls in love he is forced in to a re-evaluation. At times I found myself loving him whilst at others hating him but in truth due to censorship it is unlikely that the author would have been allowed to make him as radical as he probably would have liked.Most of the servant class characters show respectable levels of deference and commitment to their old masters but whilst many of them crave greater freedom they are also fearful of it. Fenechka is the outstanding example of this. She is the daughter of Nikolai former housekeeper, twenty years his junior, who on the death of her mother has a relationship with Nikolai bearing him a child. Fenechka is conscious of her own class status so when Arkady returns home from university she is not entirely certain that the love he shows her and her son is real or rather due to the influence of his friend and mentor Bazarov. Thus we have not only different generations but also differing classes struggling with these societal changes.Nowhere is this more apparent than in own Nikolai's home. Pavel, Nikolai's brother who lives with them, is committed to the old system and wants to retain the old class system whereas Nikolai shows openness to the changes but still cherishes the comforts that he has become used to. All this means is that we see someone trying to hold onto the old but unjust system (Pavel), someone accepting change without aggression (Nikolai), and someone who is suffering from the system but doesn't want to grab the opportunity of freedom (Fenechka) all living together under the same roof.There is very little action within this novel rather it's focus is on ideas which cover a number of spheres ranging from politics to nature to spirituality. But whilst there are conflicts the author also puts as emphasis on the importance of love in peoples' lives. Now whilst there are some compelling characters and it gives an interesting insight into a particular period of Russian history both societal and in literature meaning that I don't doubt it is of historical significance yet I still found this novel an OK read rather than a compelling one. I would have preferred a little more action and for that reason it failed to really grab my imagination. It is at least a reasonably quick read littered with short chapters meaning that you didn't get too bogged down in it hence the relatively low rating.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    An incredible read. The story holds your interest, the characters are very realistic and believable, and the content/theme is still relevant and always will be.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    One of those shocking things - a supposed masterpiece that actually lives up to the hype.Turgenev is definitely the best "novelist" of the great Russian authors of the 19th century. Tolstoy spent more time writing epics and short stories; Dostoevsky was more concerned with forcing his politics into his novels rather than writing simply good stories like Turgenev.F&S is Turgenev's best work. All I can say is that on a personal level Turgenev's themes speak to me a great deal. As a result the crux of this novel wasn't the generational gap but more Bazarov’s complicated nature and his relationship with everyone around him.As far as I'm concerned: a flawless read.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    A marvellous novel about misunderstandings between the generations that is still relevant today, but also about how love can defy logic and humanise anyone. A very sad ending with Bazarov's parents weeping over his grave.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    After working on it for most of the month, i finished up Fathers and Sons by Ivan Turgenev. I didn't think I was going to like it but the ending really saved it for me. I haven't read any Russian lit since college and even then i only read plays by Chekov. There are seventy pages of introduction in my volume that i skipped and i may actually go back and read it now.The story centers on two young men in 1860's Russia, both of whom are part of the upper class. There is Bazarov, the older of the two and a doctor by training, and Arkady, who is younger. We follow them as the visit their family homes and those of various friends. Bazarov is the philosopher; while the blurb on the back of the book lists him as "one of the first angry young men" he seems far more nihilistic to me than angry. He seems to care about little, not himself or his family or his friends. Both the men seem almost like teenagers, for most of the book they have the whole attitude of "we are always right about everything, everyone else is just dumb and can't understand us because the others are too old, or are just peasants, or are women. But towards the end both young men fall in love, for good and for ill, and we see, if not exactly a happily ever after, a very satisfying ending.So i give it a 4, after fully expecting to give it a 2. Books like this are why i so rarely abandon the ones i am not liking. i do recommend it; you just have to give it a chance and overlook everyone calling everyone else by their full names.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I loved this book. The dueling scene is priceless. Let's go nihilists!
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    The novel Fathers and Sons, like other great works of literature, has a timeless quality. The characters are memorable and the plot, while not terribly complicated, is universal in its aspect. It reads like Dostoevsky written by Flaubert. Bazarov represents the nihilist while his friend Arkady appears to agree. They flummox Arkady's father Nikolay and his brother Pavel. But it is soon the women who get the upper hand, whether the lower-class Fenichka or the wealthy widow Anna Odintsov. Of the characters Bazarov stands out as most significant. His nihilism is particularly interesting since it was not the sort of nihilism I had previously encountered in Western European intellectual history, but it is more like a sort of empiricism. As such it was a Russian intellectual movement in the 19th century that insisted that one should not believe in anything that could not be demonstrated to be true. As a critical approach to virtually everything it is a powerful force used by Turgenev through the character of Bazarov to provide an alternative to the traditions and romanticism of the 'fathers' of the novel. The force does not prevail however. The strength of Bazarov's intellectual approach to everything crumbles in the face of both nature and love. His adoring friend Arkady loses interest in it and Bazarov himself succumbs; first to the personality of Madame Odintsov and finally to the infection that leads to his untimely death. The world goes on, but the ideas presented are not vanquished but merely lie dormant, to be resurrected in continuing political unrest in Russia.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This is Turganevs best work. Many of his situations mirror the modern father son relationships and the generation gap. Turganev is one of the best Russian writers of the 19th century. I really enjoyed this book. I would also reccomend Hunters Sketches
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I loved this book - thanks to my son who introduced it to me. It is a book I hope to reread a few times.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    “‘It can’t be helped, Vasya. A son is like a lopped-off branch. As a falcon he comes when he wills and goes where he lists; but you and I are like mushrooms growing in a hollow tree. Here we sit side by side without budging. But I shall stay with you for ever and unalterably, just as you will stay with me.’


    Vassily Ivanich removed his hands from his face and embraced his wife, his constant companion, with a warmth greater than he had ever shown her in his youth; she had consoled him in his grief.” (p. 141).


    And so it was that Eugene Bazarov’s parents reconciled themselves to an only child grown cold, detached – apparently even aloof. By p. 202, that same only son is dead of pyaemia. As a parent, myself, of two children now entering early adulthood and consequently moving out and away into the world, I must confess that Turgenev’s portrayal of this unhappy – albeit necessary – fact of life was quite moving.


    Like most (if not all) of the Russian classics, however, there’s a kind of “preciousness” in both the dialogue and comportment of the characters – at least to this American eye and ear. Can one fault Turgenev (or Tolstoy, Chekhov, Goncharov, Dostoevsky and Gogol) for portraying an aristocracy that is, well, aristocratic in its entire modus operandi? Probably not. It’s just that all of it grows wearisome with wear.


    Where I would give Turgenev exceptional credit, however, in his ability to distinguish the ages and stations of his several characters through their dialogue alone, slight though their differences in age or station might be. This is no mean accomplishment for a writer (and, I might add, for the translator – George Reavy in this case).


    Can I, in good conscience, recommend Fathers and Sons as a “must-read?” Only if you’re intent on covering the gamut of what the world considers to be great Russian literature – or want to discover how the other half (or one-hundredth?) once lived, spoke and thought.


    RRB
    08/04/14
    Brooklyn, NY

  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Literature is full of proof that generational conflicts are eternal. Kids are always convinced their parents don't understand them, and in some ways, that's true. But in other ways, the parents understand more than the kids can even believe. If everyone lives long enough, one day that will become clear.Arkady is coming home after graduating from university to stay with his parents for a while, and his friend Bazarov comes with him. Bazarov is the classic "bad influence" that worries parents. He's cynical and not respectful of his elders' experience, and worst of all, he's a nihilist. (This was probably less comical before The Big Lebowski was made, or if you've never seen it. If you have, you may have the same reaction as I did every time someone brings it up, which was: hearing "We belieff in NUFFINK!" in a German accent.) Anyhow, there are tensions between the generations as well as tensions between contemporaries. After all, the older generation will always have a variety of ideas about the younger, from "get off my lawn!" to "oh, to be young and carefree." And the younger generation will be busy trying to find out where they fit in the world, how to define themselves and who to use as a model. On a larger scale, these conflicts are played out in the same way in countries, and Russia was in transition at the time when the book is set.Although I approached this novel with some trepidation because 19th-century Russian literature has always been difficult for me (I've tried Dostoevsky and Tolstoy and come to the conclusion that I need to read up on Russian history before trying again), it was an involving read. I didn't feel lost in the political situations (that references were amply footnoted helped).Recommended for: Generation X, people looking to ease into Russian literature.Quote: "The tiny space I occupy is so minute in comparison with the rest of space, in which I am not, and which has nothing to do wtih me; and the period of time in which it is my lot to live is so insignificant beside the eternity in which I have not been, and shall not be.... But in this atom, this mathematical point, the blood is circulating, the brain is working and wanting something.... Isn't it loathsome? Isn't it petty?"
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    For once I read the book before reading the introduction; an approach which has its merits. The analysis in the introduction seemed to be a little over the top at first but then after learning of the letters Turgenev exchanged with Dostoevsky, particularly concerning the former's construction of the character Bazarov, really drives home how truly great novels are so much more than the product of a vivid imagination. The beauty of reading such works is to open my eyes to a place and period that was simply neglected in my early education due to the Cold War. Yet Turgenev highlights many issues which remain relevant in modern society: nationalism East or West, revolutionary or evolutionary development, the perpetual quest for newness in youth, to the pointlessness of life when humanity's frailty is illuminated. It also reunited me with the importance of the simple things in life which are often overlooked in our individual quests for glory which probably never arrives: the scene involving Bazarov's grieving parents still haunts me, as does the thought that Arkady is now under-the-thumb in an ever-so-happy way. The great writers were great because of their ability to intellectualise so many issues without a hint of discontinuity - a trait Turgenev displays with relative ease despite his own personal agonising over his critics (both revolutionaries and aristocrats). Indeed, had we never known about Turgenev's agonising from his letters, the work does not belie any such lack of confidence. Yet had I read the introduction first I may well have formed an entirely different view.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This novel is about a young man's struggle with his father's ambition for his life as the young man alternately fights and embraces that future.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Was surprised by my love for this book. It was gripping, funny, touching. Who knew. I picked it up because of a memoir I was reading in which the narrator was enamored of "The Russians," and because I'd always been curious. So glad I did.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    There are so many ways to start the review of “Fathers and Sons”. Do I address the obvious “generation gap” concept that is FAR ahead of its time? How’s about the role it played in the transitional Russia during the rumbling years against the old money and serfdom? What about the criticisms that Turgenev received from BOTH the Left and the Right accusing Turgenev of being both “Father” and “Son”? Should I examine Turgenev’s personal view which he claimed to align most with Bazarov, the steely, indifferent nihilist (except on art)? The many facets of this book are made the more interesting in this edition, which was enriched with a sizable lecture by Isaiah Berlin and an informative introduction by the translator, Rosemary Edmonds. Regardless of one’s view, Turgenev’s burial was attended by the Imperial Government, the intelligentsia, and the workers’ organizations – noted by Berlin in 1970 as perhaps the first and last time where these groups met peacefully in Russia. That’s got to be worth something to note a career! Turgenev’s writing charm is not in the heavy subjects or weighty writing style akin to Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy, his great contemporaries. He allows the reader to connect empathically to his characters. We have in Nikolai, the kindly widowed father, in Arkady, the son finding his new path (or not), in Bazarov, the brazen mentor and vocal “nihilist” who frees himself from allegiance to anything and anyone, in Anna, the strength of a woman in her daily estate dealings - both beautiful and clever, in Pavel, the ‘lost’ uncle who gave his life away for love, and many more. Each character is richly crafted that you have an empathy and comprehension of their motivations. Despite an insistence that women opt to be silent and even beaten, Turgenev created many strong women, both in the home and in their business. I won’t attempt to elaborate further on this classic except to say it is certainly charming with some heart string tucking, but not overtly. (I loved Bazarov’s sweet, sweet parents.) 4.0 stars for the book plus 0.5 stars for the bonuses in this edition.Favorite Character: Anna Sergeyevna Odintsov – for her many strengths but also her melancholyLeast Favorite Character: Yevgeny Vassilyich Bazarov – for hating art (blasphemy!) and being self-centeredSome Quotes:On the generation divide:"Once I quarrelled with our late mamma: she stormed and would not listen to me… At last I said to her, ‘Of course, you cannot understand me: we belong to two different generations,’ I said. She was dreadfully offended but I thought to myself, ‘It can’t be helped. It is a bitter pill but she must swallow it.’ You see, now our turn has come, and our successors say to us, ‘You are not of our generation: swallow your pill’.”On nihilism:“Aristocratism, liberalism, progress, principles – think of it, what a lot of foreign.. and useless words! To a Russian they’re not worth a straw…… In these days the most useful thing we can do is to repudiate – and so we repudiate. Everything.”“…But one must construct too, you know.”“That is not our affair… The ground must be cleaned first.”“…In the old days young people had to study. If they did not want to be ignorant they had to work hard whether they liked it or not. But now they need only say, ‘Everything in the world is rubbish!’ – and the trick’s done. The young men are simply delighted. Whereas they were only sheep’s heads before, now they have suddenly blossomed out as nihilists!” On individuality (or the lack thereof!):“… I assure you the study of separate individuals is not worth the trouble it involves. All men are similar, in soul as well as body. Each of us has a brain, spleen, heart, and lungs of similar construction; and the so-called moral qualities are the same in all of us – the slight variations are of no importance. It is enough to have one human specimen in order to judge all the others. People are like trees in a forest; no botanist would dream of studying each individual birch tree.”On women, men, and love:“Anna Sergeyevna was a rather strange person. Having no prejudices of any kind, and no strong convictions even, she was not put off by obstacles and she had no goal in life. She had clear ideas about many things and a variety of interests, but nothing ever completely satisfied her; indeed she did not really seek satisfaction. Her mind was at once probing and indifferent; any doubts she entertained were never soothed into oblivion, nor ever swelled into unrest…… Like all women who have not succeeded in falling in love she hankered after something without knowing what it was. In reality there was nothing she wanted, though it seemed to her that she wanted everything…… She had conceived a secret repugnance for all men, whom she could only think of as slovenly, clumsy, dull, feebly irritating creatures.” On melancholy:“I have no desire, no longing for life. You look at me incredulously; you think those are the words of an aristocrat covered in lace and sitting in a velvet armchair. I don’t deny for a moment that I like what you call comfort, but at the same time I have very little desire to live. Reconcile that contradiction as best you can.”On family:“It can’t be helped, Vasya. A son is an independent person. He’s like a falcon that comes when he wills and flies off when he lists; but you and I are like the funguses growing in a hollow tree: here we sit side by side, not budging an inch. It is only I who will stay with you always, faithful for ever, just as you will stay with me.”On love and connection:“They were both silent; but the way in which they were silent, the way in which they were sitting together, spoke eloquently of the trustful intimacy between them, each seemed unmindful of the other and yet full of an inward joy at being together.”
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    I'm surprised this book was so controversial when it was published, as it's largely a standard Russian novel- the focus on the lower nobility, attending balls, falling in love, fighting duels, unreturned affection, marriages, and a glimpse of the stunted lives and intellect of the peasants. Lermontov satirizes this type of novel long before Turgenev put pen to paper. The only notable divergence from the paint-by-numbers plot is the addition of Bazarov, a medical student who is a self-proclaimed nihilist, who denies all rules and traditions. According to his notes for the novel Turgenev wanted Bazarov to be "like a comet" (as Freeborn translates it), knocking everyone out of there rut. At this Turgenev fails; Bazarov comes off as less a comet than a contrarian, disagreeing with his elders and society more for the sake of disagreement itself than because of any true belief in the pointlessness of life.

    The writing is largely functional, but there are a few places where the writing is noticeably bad. The arguments Turgenev writes out between Bazarov and Pavel are confusing, with characters giving responses that make little sense given the previous comment, and in general the segments where this occurs have no flow and feel stilted. Perhaps at the time this novel was written the characters conformed to easily defined types, allowing readers to fill in the leaps in dialogue in a satisfactory way, but that is no longer the case. There is also a line in the book that leads readers to believe a character has died when in fact that is not the case. I checked both the Garnett and the Freeborn translation and this is clearly a flaw in the original text, not in the translation.

    There's a reason Turgenev exists today in the shadow of Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky. Read Fathers and Sons if you want to experience more Russian literature, but don't expect it to reach the heights of the masterpieces in the genre.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Mooie, vooral trefzekere psychologische tekening van de karakters. Salonroman-allures, met dikke romantische onderlaag.Figuur Bazarov is tragisch getekend.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    That took awhile.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Some thoughts:

    1. Every time I pick up a Russian novel I'm always surprised by how leisurely the term prince and princess are thrown around, and I can never remember why. I am done looking for the answer so I am just going to assume it’s because there is a shit-ton of royalty in that vast country.

    2. It feels weird when the narrator addresses the reader. It happens a few times. It's strange but charming.

    3. Why the hell are Russian's always obscuring place and street names? I can't think of (m)any non-Russian novels that do this, though I am sure they exist.

    This book was interesting and would have appealed greatly to the younger me back when I was reading the likes of Schopenhauer and Nietzsche, being argumentative, and most likely annoying to those around me. Sadly (perhaps), I've grown older and likely appreciated this book a little less than I would have ten years ago. Today I rate this book three stars. If time travel soon becomes possible and I am permitted to both meet my younger self and influence him by giving him a copy of this book I am willing to bet the rating would be closer to five stars.

    God this is a dumb review. Sorry Turgenev you deserve better.
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    This work of fiction is set in Russia before the revolution. Serfdom was similar to slavery and the story contrasts the life of aristocracy with that of serfs. The main characters are two students: Bazarov being the leader and Arkady being his follower. The story is somewhat interesting in its description of the characters and was likely more of interest in the day of its writing. The eventual demise of Bazarov seems of limited importance since his existence was largely an annoyance to most. I do not recommend the book unless you are interested in Russian history.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Possibly the first modern Russian novel. The central figures Barazov and Arkady show a marked contrast in their eventual approaches to life. Bazarov is a self-professed nihilist, believing that the established order should always be challenged.Arkady is initially in thrall to Bazarov's tenets, to the extent that he risks alienating his old-fashioned father and even more traditional uncle. The novel is one of self discovery, though, and Arkady eventually marries Katya Lokteva, having previously been infatuated with her elder sister Anna. However, it is Bazarov who falls irredeemably in love with Anna, thus compromising the beliefs that have been the pillar of his entire being.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    The novel was a little less than I expected, but the point of interest is the letters and literary criticism that comes at the end of the book. Top-notch!
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    An incredible read. The story holds your interest, the characters are very realistic and believable, and the content/theme is still relevant and always will be.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    A great example of Russian literature at its finest. The only great writers coming out of this country weren't only Tolstoy and Doesevski. After reading this novel for a history class, I downloaded a bunch more of his work to my Kindle, for later reading. Enjoy!
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    19th century Russian literature set in 1859. (Follows the Paris Revolution, Crimean War, Nicholas I) A book about fathers and their sons. The sons have been to university and been educated. They have embraced nihilism. The Nihilist movement was a Russian movement in the 1860s which rejected all authorities.It is derived from the Latin nihil, meaning "nothing". The decision has been made to emancipate the serfs which happened in 1861. The fathers are doing their best to cooperate with the mandate. The opposite of nihilism is romanticism and the author has set the book up through the fathers and sons to contrast the different philosophy. "All moral disease derives from poor education, from all the rubbish with which people's heads are filled from birth onwards--in short, from the shocking state of society. Reform society, and there'll be no more disease". This is a statement by Bazarov. I think this statement has proven to be untrue many times. Poor education does not equal moral disease, nor does good education preclude moral disease. The origin is something else. The women characters are interesting. We have Fenichka who is "living with Nikolai and has a son but no marriage", we have Anna who is a widow and has been alluded to as empty headed who is quite intelligent and a bit of a nihilist herself, and Katerina the young lady who is quiet but probably the strongest of all. And not to omit, Bazarov's mother who is the one with the property and money but also a lot of superstitions. Bazarov's attitude is quite antifeminist but over all the book is filled with storng women. I enjoyed the book. As a Russian novel it wasn't hard to read. I am not a fan of nihilism but I learned a lot and find it interesting that it was a Russian movement. The novel contributes to the Russian literature and Russian history, it is not only relevant to its 19 century setting but also offers some relevance to the present and a good reminder that generations do change. The characters were well crafted. This is more a character study than a plot driven book.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Fairly short and easy to read (at least in this translation). More thoughts to come later...
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    3.5 stars. I would've liked it much more when I was younger, but, nearing eighty, the first thoughts and loves and rebellions and other conceits of the characters were a bit flat. Reading it felt a little like watching kittens--their behavior is amusing and endearing but every miscalculated jump and tumble is foreseen.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    I picked up Fathers and Sons because it seemed an approachably slim volume to start me off in Russian literature. I'm going to jump into that ocean headfirst eventually, but let me dabble my toes a bit first and get used to the temperature. The title hints that it is a story about generational differences, how family members with wildly different philosophies interact with one another, and it is that on one level. But it is also a portrayal of the different positions (or branches of the family) of philosophy in general. Modern nihilism squares off with traditional religiosity and the liberal Russian politics of 1862. Sounds like fun, right? In many ways this felt like a screenplay. I'm not exactly sure why, but as I was reading I was struck by the theatricality of the scenes and descriptions. Especially in the beginning, Turgenev gives us a lot of background information on the characters and their histories... the sort of things that a movie would show us to set up the characters and their surroundings. Sometimes it was choppy, a little too much of an info dump. I found some of the the characters quite underdeveloped, like Fenichka and Katya. Others, like Nicholas and his brother Paul, get great attention when they're onscreen and then just... disappear. Arcady is us, I think... drawn along by Bazarov's genius and admiring his ways not for their own merit, but because they are his. There is something magnetic about him. Or maybe we are Nicholas and Vasily, floundering around in a world that is changing too quickly for our comfort. What about Fenichka, content to leave the wrangling to others and follow her natural impulses? Or Bazarov's mother, terrified because of her son's philosophy? Maybe we are each of these characters at some point in our lives. Bazarov was one of those characters you just enjoy, not because you like him but because he's just so unpredictable and masterful. He's fascinating to watch, a bundle of contradictions because of his nihilism. He believes in pure science, but is that really kosher for a strict nihilist, to believe in anything? Why should one study so hard to be a doctor, if nothing means anything and every institution should be pulled down? Why bother? I guess this is the thing that disappointed me the most in this story: I still feel quite in the dark as to nihilistic philosophy. It seemed like Bazarov is supposed to be just a mouthpiece for the nihilistic worldview — which is fine by me, actually, in a novel like this — but whenever he gets into philosophical discussions, they always stop short. It could be that I was missing it, but the arguments and opposing viewpoints ended right when I wanted them expanded upon, just when things were getting good! Maybe Turgenev was being careful of not weighing his story down too much, leaving room for some plot and character development. And maybe I just have unrealistic expectations of Russian literature. My copy is translated by George Reavy. Aficionados of Russian lit can tell me if it's a good translation or not. I'm glad I read this, but I can't conjure up any real enthusiasm for it. Tolstoy is bound to be better.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    My first novel by Turgenev and was very impressive. Good reason to go back on classics.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I'm a little conflicted by "Fathers and Sons"; when I read it oh so many years ago I was heavily into Dostoevsky, and in reading that he and Turgenev were at odds with one another, I confess I had a bias before reading the first page.Turgenev was the "Westerner" and liberal; moreover, he meant the nihilist character Bazarov to be a positive figure and sympathized with by the reader. At the time I found it ironic and somehow a discredit to him that the effect on Russia was the exact opposite. In laying bare the beliefs of those who would tear down all social conventions, as Alan Hodge stated in the introduction to this slim text, "Turgenev was horrified to find himself congratulated by crusty old believers in serfdom, whose friendship he did not welcome, and bitterly reproached by the young reformers, whose views he largely shared."Over the years, however, I have read other works by Turgenev and while I prefer the weightier angst of Dostoevsky, I have come to appreciate the humanity and pastoral charm of Turgenev. Maybe it's analogous to liking the intellectual John Lennon best in youth, but then coming to appreciate the heart of Paul McCartney more with time. :-)This book was a lightning rod when it was published in 1862; it's certainly worthy of a read not only for its insight into the politics and generational rift of its time, but also for the beauty of its writing.Some quotes....On "death":“Look!” Arcady suddenly exclaimed. “A withered maple leaf has left its branch and is falling to the ground; its movements resemble those of a butterfly in flight. Isn’t it strange? The saddest and deadest of all things is yet so like the gayest and most vital of creatures.”On individuality:“…may I state that it’s not worth the trouble to make a separate study of individuals? All men are similar in body and soul; each one of us has a brain, a spleen, a heart, and identically formed lungs; and the so-called moral qualities attributed to us are the same in all: slight variations only prove the rule. One human specimen affords an adequate basis for judging the rest. People are like trees in a forest; no botanist would dream of studying each birch tree in detail.”On life:"Here, in the cool shade, she read and worked, or surrendered herself to that sensation of perfect peace with which we are all presumably familiar and whose charm lies in a barely conscious and silent observation of the sweeping wave of life that for ever rolls all round us as well as within us."On meaninglessness:“The confined space I occupy is so minute when compared with the rest of the universe, where I am not and have no business to be; and the fraction of time I shall live is so infinitesimal when contrasted with eternity, in which I have never been and shall never be…And yet here, in this atom of myself, in this mathematical point, blood circulates, the brain is active, aspiring to something too…What a monstrous thing! How absurd it seems!”On nihilism, hey there has to be at least one quote on that here. :-)“Aristocracy, liberalism, progress, principles,” Bazarov said in the meantime, “just think, what a lot of foreign – and useless – words!” … “Our actions are governed by utility,” Bazarov said. “In these days, negation is the most useful thing of all – and so we deny.”“…But it is essential to construct as well.”“That is not our affair…First we must make a clean sweep.”“…Formerly, young men had to study; they had no wish to be known as ignoramuses, and so willy-nilly they had to apply themselves. Now all they can say is ‘Everything is rubbish!’ And they have made their point. The young men are simply delighted. To be sure, before they were only blockheads, now they have suddenly become Nihilists.”On togetherness:“It can’t be helped, Vasya. A son is like a lopped-off branch. As a falcon he comes when he wills and goes where he lists; but you and I are like mushrooms growing in a hollow tree. Here we sit side by side without budging. But I shall stay with you for ever and unalterably, just as you will stay with me.”On the younger generation:"Once I had a quarrel with our late mama; unwilling to hear me, she was shouting her head off…I finally told her that she was incapable of understanding me: ‘We belong to different generations,’ I said."Reading "Fathers and Sons" makes it clear that life in mid-19th century Russia was very different from my own life, and being transported is one of the great joys of reading to me. Another great joy is the opposite effect which is highlighted in that last quote; to see that many aspects of the human condition were the same, have always been the same, and will probably always be the same.

Book preview

Fathers & Sons - Ivan Turgenev

I

Table of Contents

Well, Peter? Cannot you see them yet? asked a barin¹ of about forty who, hatless, and clad in a dusty jacket over a pair of tweed breeches, stepped on to the verandah of a posting-house on the 20th day of May, 1859. The person addressed was the barin's servant—a round-cheeked young fellow with small, dull eyes and a chin adorned with a tuft of pale-coloured down.

Glancing along the high road in a supercilious manner, the servant (in whom everything, from the turquoise ear-ring to the dyed, pomaded hair and the mincing gait, revealed the modern, the rising generation) replied: "No, barin, I cannot."

Is that so? queried the barin.

Yes, the servant affirmed.

The barin sighed, and seated himself upon a bench. While he is sitting there with his knees drawn under him and his eyes moodily glancing to right and left, the reader may care to become better acquainted with his personality.

His name was Nikolai Petrovitch Kirsanov, and he owned (some fifteen versts from the posting-house) a respectable little property of about two hundred souls (or, as, after that he had apportioned his peasantry allotments, and set up a farm, he himself expressed it, a property "of two thousand desiatini"²). His father, one of the generals of 1812, had spent his life exclusively in military service as the commander, first of a brigade, and then of a division; and always he had been quartered in the provinces, where his rank had enabled him to cut a not inconspicuous figure. As for Nikolai Petrovitch himself, he was born in Southern Russia (as also was his elder brother, Paul—of whom presently), and, until his fourteenth year, received his education amid a circle of hard-up governors, free-and-easy aides-de-camp, and sundry staff and regimental officers. His mother came of the family of the Koliazins, and, known in maidenhood as Agathe, and subsequently as Agathoklea Kuzminishna Kirsanov, belonged to the type of officer's lady. That is to say, she wore pompous mobcaps and rustling silk dresses, was always the first to approach the cross in church, talked volubly and in a loud tone, of set practice admitted her sons to kiss her hand in the morning, and never failed to bless them before retiring to rest at night. In short, she lived the life which suited her. As the son of a general, Nikolai Petrovitch was bound—though he evinced no particular bravery, and might even have seemed a coward—to follow his brother Paul's example by entering the army; but unfortunately, owing to the fact that, on the very day when there arrived the news of his commission, he happened to break his leg, it befell that, after two months in bed, he rose to his feet a permanently lamed man. When his father had finished wringing his hands over the mischance, he sent his son to acquire a civilian education; whence it came about that Nikolai, at eighteen, found himself a student at the University of St. Petersburg. At the same period his brother obtained a commission in one of the regiments of Guards; and, that being so, their father apportioned the two young men a joint establishment, and placed it under the more or less detached supervision of Ilya Koliazin, their maternal uncle and a leading tchinovnik.³ That done, the father returned to his division and his wife, and only at rare intervals sent his sons sheets of grey foolscap (scrawled and re-scrawled in flamboyant calligraphy) to which there was appended, amid a bower of laborious flourishes, the signature Piotr Kirsanov, Major-General. In the year 1835 Nikolai Petrovitch obtained his university degree; and in the same year General Kirsanov was retired for incompetence at a review, and decided to transfer his quarters to St. Petersburg. Unfortunately, just as he was on the point both of renting a house near the Tavritchesky Gardens and of being enrolled as a member of the English Club, a stroke put an end to his career, and Agathoklea Kuzminishna followed him soon afterwards, since never had she succeeded in taking to the dull life of the capital, but always had hankered after the old provincial existence. Already during his parents' lifetime, and to their no small vexation, Nikolai Petrovitch had contrived to fall in love with the daughter of a certain tchinovnik named Prepolovensky, the landlord of his flat; and since the maiden was not only comely, but one of the type known as advanced (that is to say, she perused an occasional Science article in one newspaper or another), he married her out of hand as soon as the term of mourning was ended, and, abandoning the Ministry of Provincial Affairs to which, through his father's influence, he had been posted, embarked upon connubial felicity in a villa adjoining the Institute of Forestry. Thence, after a while, the couple removed to a diminutive, but in every way respectable, flat which could boast of a spotless vestibule and an icy-cold drawing-room; and thence, again, they migrated to the country, where they settled for good, and where, in due time, they had born to them a son Arkady. The existence of husband and wife was one of perfect comfort and tranquillity. Almost never were they parted from one another, they read together, they played the piano together, and they sang duets. Also, she would garden or superintend the poultry-yard, and he would set forth a-hunting, or see to the management of the estate. Meanwhile Arkady led an existence of equal calm and comfort, and grew, and waxed fat; until, in 1847, when ten years had been passed in this idyllic fashion, Kirsanov's wife breathed her last. The blow proved almost more than the husband could bear—so much so that his head turned grey in a few weeks. Yet, though he sought distraction for his thoughts by going abroad, he felt constrained, in the following year, to return home, where, after a prolonged period of inaction, he took up the subject of Industrial Reform. Next, in 1855, he sent his son to the University of St. Petersburg, and, for the same reason, spent the following three winters in the capital, where he seldom went out, but spent the greater part of his time in endeavouring to fraternise with his son's youthful acquaintances. The fourth winter, however, he was prevented by various circumstances from spending in St. Petersburg; and thus in the May of 1859 we see him—grey-headed, dusty, a trifle bent, and wholly middle-aged—awaiting his son's home-coming after the elevation of the latter (in Nikolai's own footsteps) to the dignity of a graduate.

Presently either a sense of decency or (more probably) a certain disinclination to remain immediately under his master's eye led the servant to withdraw to the entrance gates, and there to light a pipe. Nikolai Petrovitch, however, continued sitting with head bent, and his eyes contemplating the ancient steps of the verandah, up which a stout speckled hen was tap-tapping its way on a pair of splayed yellow legs, and thereby causing an untidy, but fastidious-looking, cat to regard it from the balustrade with marked disapproval. Meanwhile the sun beat fiercely down, and from the darkened interior of a neighbouring granary came a smell as of hot rye straw. Nikolai Petrovitch sank into a reverie. My son Arkady a graduate!—the words kept passing and repassing through his mind. Again and again he tried to think of something else, but always the same thought returned to him. Until eventually he reverted to the memory of his dead wife. Would that she were still with me! was his yearning reflection. Presently a fat blue pigeon alighted upon the roadway, and fell to taking a hasty drink from a pool beside the well. And almost at the instant that the spectacle of the bird caught Nikolai Petrovitch's eye, his ear caught the sound of approaching wheels.

They are coming, I think, hazarded the servant as he stepped forward through the gates.

Nikolai Petrovitch sprang to his feet, and strained his eyes along the road. Yes, coming into view there was a tarantass,⁴ drawn by three stagehorses; and in the tarantass there could be seen the band of a student's cap and the outlines of a familiar, well-beloved face.

Arkasha, Arkasha! was Kirsanov's cry as, running forward, he waved his arms. A few moments later he was pressing his lips to the sun-tanned, dusty, hairless cheek of the newly-fledged graduate.

¹ Gentleman or squire.

² The desiatin = 2.86 acres.

³ Civil servant.

⁴ A species of four-wheeled carriage.

II

Table of Contents

Yes, but first give me a rub down, dearest Papa, said Arkady in a voice which, though a little hoarsened with travelling, was yet clear and youthful. See! I am covering you with dust! he added as joyously he returned his father's caresses.

Oh, but that will not matter, said Nikolai Petrovitch with a loving, reassuring smile as he gave the collar of his son's blue cloak a couple of pats, and then did the same by his own jacket. Thereafter, gently withdrawing from his son's embrace, and beginning to lead the way towards the inn yard, he added: Come this way, come this way. The horses will soon be ready.

His excitement seemed even to outdo his son's, so much did he stammer and stutter, and, at times, find himself at a loss for a word. Arkady stopped him.

Papa, he said, first let me introduce my good friend Bazarov, who is the comrade whom I have so often mentioned in letters to you, and who has been kind enough to come to us for a visit.

At once Nikolai Petrovitch wheeled round, and, approaching a tall man who, clad in a long coat with a tasselled belt, had just alighted from the tarantass, pressed the bare red hand which, after a pause, the stranger offered him.

I am indeed glad to see you! was Nikolai Petrovitch's greeting, I am indeed grateful to you for your kindness in paying us this visit! Alas, I hope that, that——But first might I inquire your name?

Evgenii Vasiliev, replied the other in slow, but virile, accents as, turning down the collar of his coat, he revealed his face more clearly. Long and thin, with a high forehead which looked flattened at the top and became sharpened towards the nose, the face had large, greenish eyes and long, sandy whiskers. The instant that the features brightened into a smile, however, they betokened self-assurance and intellect.

My dearest Evgenii Vasiliev, Nikolai Petrovitch continued, I trust that whilst you are with us you will not find time hang heavy upon your hands.

Bazarov gave his lips a slight twitch, but vouchsafed no reply beyond raising his cap—a movement which revealed the fact that the prominent convolutions of the skull were by no means concealed by the superincumbent mass of indeterminate-coloured hair.

Now, Arkady, went on Nikolai Petrovitch as he turned to his son, shall we have the horses harnessed at once, or should you prefer to rest a little?

Let us rest at home, Papa. So pray have the horses put to.

I will, his father agreed. Peter! Bestir yourself, my good fellow!

Being what is known as a perfectly trained servant, Peter had neither approached nor shaken hands with the young barin, but contented himself with a distant bow. He now vanished through the yard gates.

"Though I have come in the koliaska, said Nikolai Petrovitch, I have brought three fresh horses for the tarantass."

Arkady then drank some water from a yellow bowl proffered by the landlord, while Bazarov lighted a pipe, and approached the ostler, who was engaged in unharnessing the stagehorses.

"Only two can ride in the koliaska, continued Nikolai Petrovitch; wherefore I am rather in a difficulty to know how your friend will——"

"Oh, he can travel in the tarantass, interrupted Arkady. Moreover, do not stand on any ceremony with him, for, wonderful though he is, he is also quite simple, as you will find for yourself."

Nikolai Petrovitch's coachman brought out the horses, and Bazarov remarked to the ostler:

Come, bestir yourself, fat-beard!

Did you hear that, Mitiusha? added another ostler who was standing with his hands thrust into the back slits of his blouse. "The barin has just called you a fat-beard. And a fat-beard you are."

For answer Mitiusha merely cocked his cap to one side and drew the reins from the back of the sweating shafts-horse.

Quick now, my good fellows! cried Nikolai Petrovitch. "Bear a hand, all of you, and for each there will be a glassful of vodka."

Naturally, it was not long before the horses were harnessed, and then father and son seated themselves in the koliaska, Peter mounted the box of that vehicle, and Bazarov stepped into the tarantass, and lolled his head against the leather cushion at the back. Finally the cortège moved away.

III

Table of Contents

To think that you are now a graduate and home again! said Nikolai Petrovitch as he tapped Arkady on the knee, and then on the shoulder. There now, there now!

And how is Uncle? Is he quite well? asked Arkady—the reason for the question being that though he felt filled with a genuine, an almost childish delight at his return, he also felt conscious of an instinct that the conversation were best diverted from the emotional to the prosaic.

Yes, your uncle is quite well. As a matter of fact, he also had arranged to come and meet you, but at the last moment changed his mind.

Did you have very long to wait? continued Arkady.

About five hours.

Dearest Papa! cried Arkady as, leaning over towards his father, he imprinted upon his cheek a fervent kiss. Nikolai Petrovitch smiled quietly.

I have got a splendid horse for you, he next remarked. Presently you shall see him. Also, your room has been entirely repapered.

And have you a room for Bazarov as well?

One shall be found for him.

Oh—and pray humour him in every way you can. I could not express to you how much I value his friendship.

But you have not known him very long, have you?

No—not very long.

I thought not, for I do not remember to have seen him in St. Petersburg last winter. In what does he most interest himself?

"Principally in natural science. But, to tell the truth, he knows practically everything, and is to become a doctor next year."

Oh! So he is in the Medical Faculty? Nikolai Petrovitch remarked; after which there was silence for a moment.

Peter, went on Nikolai, pointing with his hand, are not those peasants there some of our own?

Peter glanced in the direction indicated, and saw a few waggons proceeding along a narrow by-road. The teams were bridleless, and in each waggon were seated some two or three muzhiks with their blouses unbuttoned.

Yes, they are some of our own, Peter responded.

Then whither can they be going? To the town?

Yes—or to the tavern. This last was added contemptuously, and with a wink to the coachman that was designed to enlist that functionary's sympathy: but as the functionary in question was one of the old school which takes no share in the modern movement, he stirred not a muscle of his face.

This year my peasants have been giving me a good deal of trouble, Nikolai Petrovitch continued to his son. Persistently do they refuse to pay their tithes. What ought to be done with them?

And do you find your hired workmen satisfactory?

Not altogether, muttered Nikolai Petrovitch. You see, they have become spoilt, more's the pity! Any real energy seems quite to have left them, and they not only ruin my implements, but also leave the land untilled. Does estate-management interest you?

The thing we most lack here is shade, remarked Arkady in evasion of the question.

Ah, but I have had an awning added to the north balcony, so that we can take our meals in the open air.

But that will give the place rather the look of a villa, will it not? Things of that sort never prove effectual. But oh, the air here! How good it smells! Yes, in my opinion, things never smell elsewhere as they do here. And oh, the sky!

Suddenly Arkady stopped, threw a glance of apprehension in the direction of the tarantass, and relapsed into silence.

I quite agree with you, replied Nikolai Petrovitch. You see, the reason is that you were born here, and that therefore the place is bound to have for you a special significance.

But no significance can attach to the place of a man's birth, Papa.

Indeed?

Oh no. None whatsoever.

Nikolai Petrovitch glanced at the speaker, and for fully half a verst let the vehicle proceed without the conversation between them being renewed. At length Nikolai Petrovitch observed:

I cannot remember whether I wrote to tell you that your old nurse, Egorovna, is dead.

"Dead? Oh, the poor old woman! But Prokofitch—is he still alive?"

"He is so, and in no way changed—that is to say, he grumbles as much as ever. In fact, you will find that no really important alterations have taken place at Marino."

And have you the same steward as before?

No; I have appointed a fresh one, for I came to the conclusion that I could not have any freed serfs about the place. That is to say, I did not feel as though I could trust such fellows with posts of responsibility. Arkady indicated Peter with his eyes, and Nikolai Petrovitch therefore subdued his voice a little. "He? Oh, il est libre, en effet. You see, he is my valet. But as regards a steward, I have appointed a miestchanin,¹ at a salary of 250 roubles a year, and he seems at least capable. But—and here Nikolai Petrovitch rubbed his forehead, which gesture with him always implied inward agitation—I ought to say that, though I have told you that you will find no alterations of importance at Marino, the statement is not strictly true, seeing that it is my duty to warn you that, that—— Nikolai Petrovitch hesitated again—then added in French: Perhaps by a stern moralist my frankness might be considered misplaced; yet I will not conceal from you, nor can you fail to be aware, that always I have had ideas of my own on the subject of the relations which ought to subsist between a father and his son. At the same time, this is not to say that you have not the right to judge me. Rather, it is that at my age——Well, to put matters bluntly, the girl whom you will have heard me speak of——"

You mean Thenichka? said Arkady.

Nikolai Petrovitch's face went red.

Do not speak of her so loudly, he advised. "Yes, she is living with us. I took her in because two of our smaller rooms were available. But of course the arrangement must be changed."

Why must it, Papa?

Because this friend of yours is coming, and also because—well, it might make things awkward.

Do not disturb yourself on Bazarov's account. He is altogether superior to such things.

Yes, so you say; but the mischief lies in the fact that the wing is so small.

Papa, Papa! protested Arkady. "Almost one would think that you considered yourself to blame for something; whereas you have nothing to reproach yourself with."

Ah, but I have, responded Nikolai Petrovitch. His face had turned redder than ever.

"No, you have not, Papa, repeated Arkady with a loving smile, while adding to himself with a feeling of indulgent tenderness for his good, kind father, as well as with a certain sense of superiority: Why is he making these excuses?"

I beg of you to say no more, he continued with an involuntary feeling of exultation in being grown up and emancipated. As he did so Nikolai Petrovitch glanced at him from under the fingers of the hand which was still rubbing his brows. At the same moment something seemed to give his heart a stab. Mentally, as before, he blamed himself.

Here our fields begin, he observed after a pause.

I see, rejoined Arkady. And that is our forest in front, I suppose?

It is so. Only, only—I have sold it, and this year it is to be removed.

Why have you sold it?

Because I needed the money. Moreover, the land which it occupies must go to the peasants.

What? To the peasants who pay you no tithes?

Possibly. But some day they will pay me.

I regret the forest's loss, said Arkady, and then resumed his contemplation of the landscape.

The scenery which the party were traversing could not have been called picturesque, for, with slight undulations, only fields, fields, and again fields, stretched to the very horizon. True, a few patches of copse were visible, but the ditches, with their borderings of low, sparse brushwood, recalled the antique land-measurement of Katherine's day. Also, streams ran pent between abruptly sloping banks, hamlets with dwarfed huts (of which the blackened roofs were, for the most part, cracked in half) stood cheek by jowl with crazy grinding-byres of plaited willow, empty threshing-floors had their gates sagging, and from churches of wood or of brick which stood amid dilapidated graveyards the stucco was peeling, and the crosses were threatening at any moment to fall. As he gazed at the scene Arkady's heart contracted. Moreover, the peasants encountered on the road looked ragged, and were riding sorry nags, while the laburnum trees which stood ranged like miserable beggars by the roadside had their bark hanging in strips, and their boughs shattered. Lastly, the lean, mud-encrusted cows which could be seen hungrily cropping the herbage in the ditches were so staring of coat that the animals might just have been rescued from the talons of some terrible, death-dealing monster; and as one gazed at those weak, pitiful beasts, almost one could fancy that one saw uprisen from amid the beauty of spring, the pale phantoms of Winter—its storms and its frost and its snow.

Evidently this is not a rich district, reflected Arkady. Rather, it is a district which gives one the impression neither of abundance nor of hard work. Yet can it be left as it is? No! Education is what we need. But how is that education to be administered, or, for that matter, to be introduced?

Thus Arkady. Yet, even as the thought passed through his mind, Spring seemed once more to regain possession of her kingdom, and everything around him grew golden-green, and trees, shrubs, and herbage started to wave and glimmer under the soft, warm breath of the vernal zephyrs, and larks took to pouring out their souls in endless, ringing strains, and siskins, circling high over sunken ponds, uttered their cry, then skimmed the hillocks in silence, and handsome black rooks stalked among the tender green of the short corn-shoots, or settled among the pale-white, smokelike ripples of the young rye, whence at intervals they protruded their heads.

Arkady gazed and gazed; and gradually, as he did so, his late thoughts grew dimmer and disappeared, and, throwing off his travelling-cloak, he peered so joyously, with such a boyish air, into his father's face that Nikolai Petrovitch bestowed upon him yet another embrace.

We have but little further to go now, he remarked. "In fact, when once we have topped that rise the house will come into view. And what a time we are going to have together, Arkasha! For you will be able to

Enjoying the preview?
Page 1 of 1