Khlodovsky R. Rome in the world of Gogol
GOGOL IN ROME*
(excerpts from the essay of the same name by N. Paklin)
In Rome, on Sistina Street, above the door of one of the houses hangs a memorial plaque with the inscription in Russian and Italian: “He lived here in 1838-1842. Nikolai Vasilyevich Gogol. Here he wrote “Dead Souls”.
Rome occupies a special place in Gogol's work. In addition to the first volume of “Dead Souls,” which he wrote almost entirely in the “eternal city,” here he completely rewrote “Portrait,” significantly reworked “Taras Bulba,” and re-edited “The Inspector General” and “Marriage.”
How did the writer perceive Italy and Rome at first? “What can I tell you about Italy?” he writes to Prokopovich. “It will amaze you less the first time than after.” Only by peering more and more do you see and feel its secret charm. Some kind of silver shine is visible in the sky and clouds. Sunlight further covers the horizon. What about the nights? ...Beautiful. The stars shine more strongly than ours, and in appearance they seem larger than ours, like planets. What about the air? – it is pure, so that distant objects seem close. We haven’t heard about the fog.” “The Eternal City does not strike you immediately; you have to look closely at it to appreciate it.
“When I entered Rome, for the first time I could not give myself a clear account,” he outlines his impressions to Danilevsky on April 15, 1837. “He seemed small to me. But the further I go, it seems bigger and bigger to me, the buildings are bigger, the views are more beautiful, the sky is better, and there are enough paintings, ruins and antiques to look at for a lifetime. You fall in love with Rome very slowly, little by little – and for the rest of your life.” “What a land Italy is!... There is no better fate than to die in Rome; here a person is closer to God a mile away... Before Rome, all other cities seem like brilliant dramas, the action of which takes place noisily and quickly in the eyes of the viewer; the soul is suddenly delighted, but not brought into such calm, into such lasting pleasure as when reading an epic. In fact, what is missing from it? I read it and read it... and still can't get to the end; My reading is endless. I don’t know where the life of a person for whom the vulgar pleasures of the world do not have much value could be better spent. All of Europe is for watching, and Italy is for living. Here is my opinion: whoever has been to Italy will say goodbye to other lands. Whoever was in heaven will not want to come to earth.”
In Rome, Gogol finds a small but compact Russian colony, which, having heard about his arrival, greets him warmly, as a great writer. At that time, there were about 15 Russian artists in the city - fellows of the Russian Academy of Arts. It has already become a tradition to send capable artists from Russia to Italy. Such famous Russian artists lived and worked here as Sylvester Fedoseevich Shchedrin, who won a calling in Europe with his Roman and Neapolitan landscapes. He especially loved Naples. “After seeing Naples, you can die,” he repeated more than once in his letters to his homeland;
Orest Adamovich Kiprensky;
- Karl Pavlovich Bryulov – creator of the famous painting “The Last Day of Pompeii”;
- Fyodor Ivanovich Jordan. The artist worked for many years on engraving Raphael’s immortal painting “The Transfiguration of the Lord.”
- Alexander Andreevich Ivanov, creator of the painting “The Appearance of Christ to the People.” The acquaintance of Gogol and Ivanov quickly grew into friendship. The basis of their friendship was not so much mutual sympathy as a similarity in views on the purpose of the artist and art. The writer increasingly came to the conviction that his main work, “Dead Souls,” was by no means his personal matter. He believed that he was destined by fate itself to complete, in his words, “the work that now fills my entire soul. Here the holy will of God is clearly visible to me: such a suggestion does not come from a person; He’ll never invent such a plot!”
Ivanov had the same attitude towards his main work, “The Appearance of Christ to the People.” He began to work on it in earnest in 1837 in Rome and graduated only in 1856. He called the plot of the film “worldwide.” Both the writer and the artist saw the meaning of life in creating profound, monumental works that would have an impact on society, even on entire nations, making them better, higher, purer. For this sake, they were ready to endure hardships and hardships, to make sacrifices. Ivanov’s life, full of self-denial, is especially indicative in this regard. He was literally obsessed with his main job, refusing lucrative offers, although he was often tormented, literally, by hunger. Gogol often visited Ivanov’s studio in Vantaggio Lane, not far from the Tiber embankment. A memorial plaque was recently attached to the blank wall of the house where the artist lived.
In Rome, Gogol meets Princess Zinaida Alexandrovna Volkonskaya. She was a representative of the highest Russian aristocracy. Her father, Alexander Beloselsky-Belozersky, was Catherine the Second's envoy to the King of Sardinia in Turin. He enjoyed the special favor of the empress. He patronized the muses, wrote, and composed music. Zinaida Volkonskaya was born in Turin on December 3, 1792. The love of art was in her blood. She had many advantages: a natural mind, a subtle understanding of beauty, extraordinary artistic and literary abilities. Most of all, Zinaida Volkonskaya was suited to the role of the hostess of the salon and inspirer of muses. She turned Palazzo Polli, which she rented near the famous Trevi fountain, into a musical and literary salon, where famous Russian artists, poets, and travelers gather.
Mutual understanding immediately arises between Gogol and Volkonskaya. He is a welcome guest, for whom a hearty dinner, home comfort and a charming hostess were always waiting for him in Zinaida’s house. Gogol especially liked to visit the villa, which was located near the walls of the magnificent Basilica of San Giovanni in Laterano. The writer liked everything: the secluded park, the ruins of the aqueduct, and the wonderful view of the Roman valley of Compagna, sharply outlined on the horizon by the Alban Mountains, the haven of the ancient Latins.
Many pages of Dead Souls were written by Gogol in the Greco cafe. This cafe was founded in 1760 by the Greek Nikola, and as a valuable monument of antiquity it was taken under state protection. The cafe served as a meeting place and pastime for many famous people of that time. Goethe, Goldoni, Andersen, Thackeray, Chateaubriand, Mark Twain, Corot, Begas, Thorvaldsen, Wagner, Rossini, Berlioz, Mendelssohn, Toscanini, Byron, Liszt, Nietzsche, Mickiewicz, Bizet, Hugo sat on wooden benches. Its regulars were Russian artists. Gogol loved Rome, captivating everyone irresistibly to the same worship of its wonders; literally from the first day he dragged the guest to admire the sights of the “eternal city.” “He showed Rome with such pleasure, as if he had discovered it himself,” recalls Annenkov. He led the guest to the ancient Forum, pointing out points from where one could view the remains of the ancient square as a whole and better understand the purpose of each of its buildings.
Gogol had a special way of looking at Rome. He examined monuments, museums, palaces, art galleries, plunging into silent contemplation, rarely interrupted by abrupt remarks. Only after some time did his tongue loosen and one could hear his judgments about the objects he saw. The sculptural works of the ancients made a particularly strong impression on him.
Gogol speaks very well about the Roman spring in one of his letters, which he dates in a very peculiar way: “Rome, month of April, year 2588 from the founding of the city.” “...What spring! God, what spring! But you know what a young, fresh spring is like among decrepit ruins blooming with ivy and wild flowers. How beautiful are now the blue patches of sky between the trees, barely covered with fresh, almost yellow greenery, and even the cypresses, dark as a crow’s wing, and even further - blue, matte, like turquoise, the mountains of Frascati and Albana and Tivoli. What kind of water! It seems that when you stretch your nose, at least 700 angels fly into your nasal nostrils. Amazing spring! I look, I can’t see enough. The whole of Rome was now strewn with roses; but my sense of smell is even sweeter from the flowers that have now bloomed and whose name I really forgot at that moment. We don't have them. Do you believe that there often comes a frantic desire to turn into one nose, so that there is nothing more - no eyes, no arms, no legs, except for one huge nose, whose nostrils would be the size of good buckets, so that you can draw as much into yourself as possible? more incense and spring.”
Rome and Italy gave Gogol a lot.
...In the back of the Greco cafe, on the wall, above one of the rectangular marble tables, hangs among others a miniature portrait of Gogol. It was painted by the artist Svekdomsky. And it was hung on the occasion of the 50th anniversary of the writer’s death by admirers of his talent. A little further, a sheet of paper with writing on it hangs in a frame under glass. Someone skillfully wrote on it in Gogol’s handwriting the lines from his letter to P.A. Pletnev, written on March 17, 1842 in Moscow: “I can only write about Russia in Rome. Only there she is before me all, in all her enormity...”
Among the Russians, no one spoke about Rome as vividly as “Signor Nicolo,” who lived in the ancient houses of the Eternal City, where they remember him. A century ago, the Russian colony installed a marble plaque with a bas-relief of Gogol at number 126 of the former Strada Felice, now Via Sistina.
The inscription in Russian and Italian says that here in 1832-1842 he lived and wrote “Dead Souls”. Gogol received five thousand rubles for a long stay abroad from the treasury by order of Nicholas I.
Nikolai Vasilyevich Gogol loved Italy very much, especially Rome. He lived there from 1837 to 1846, periodically returning to Russia. In Rome, he almost completely wrote Dead Souls. It is interesting to note that the plot of this novel was suggested to him by Pushkin. Upon arrival in Italy, albeit very late, Gogol receives news of the death of his friend and is very worried about this loss.
The writer quickly learned Italian and spoke and wrote in it fluently. In Rome, Gogol often visits the house of Princess Zinaida Volkonskaya. He highly appreciated her hospitality and culinary skills. When the princess was not in the city, Gogol felt lonely. At Volkonskaya's in 1838, the writer met and became friends with the artist Ivanov, whose painting “The Appearance of Christ to the People” is exhibited in the Tretyakov Gallery.
Gogol loved to travel. The road entertained him with new landscapes and meeting new people. In May 1840, the writer once again returned to Italy from Russia. Along the way, he stops in Vienna, where he drinks mineral water and attends the Italian opera. This is what Gogol writes in his letter to Shevyrev: “All of Vienna is having fun, and the Germans here are always having fun, but the Germans are having fun, as you know, in a boring way, drinking beer and sitting at wooden tables - under chestnut trees, that’s all.”
On the white pedestal there is an inscription: “...I can only write about Russia in Rome,
only in this way is it all before me, in all its enormity.”
Gogol speaks of Italy with a great feeling of love and admiration:
- “If you knew with what joy I left Switzerland and flew to my darling, my beautiful Italy. She is mine! No one in the world will take her away from me! I was born here. Russia, St. Petersburg, snow, scoundrels, department , department, theater - I dreamed of everything!..." N.V. Gogol to V.A. Zhukovsky October 30, 1837.
- “In a word, all of Europe is for watching, and Italy is for living.” N.V. Gogol to A.S. Danilevsky April 1837.
- “Here is my opinion! Whoever was in Italy, say “forgive” to other lands. Whoever was in heaven will not want to come to earth. In a word, Europe in comparison with Italy is the same as a cloudy day in comparison with a sunny day.” N.V. Gogol V.O. Balabina 1837 from Baden-Baden.
- “Oh, Italy! Whose hand will tear me out of here? What a sky! What a day! Summer is not summer, spring is not spring, but better than spring and summer, which happen in other parts of the world. What kind of air! I drink - not "I get drunk, I look - I can't get enough of it. There is heaven and paradise in my soul. Now I have few acquaintances in Rome, or, better yet, almost no one. But I have never been so cheerful, so satisfied with life." N.V. Gogol to A.S. Danilevsky on February 2, 1838 from Rome.
What spring! God, what spring! But you know what a young, fresh spring is like among decrepit ruins blooming with ivy and wild flowers. How beautiful are now the blue patches of sky between the trees, barely covered with fresh, almost yellow greenery, and even the cypresses, dark as a crow’s wing, and even further blue, matte, like turquoise, the Frascati and Albanian and Tivoli mountains. What kind of air! Amazing spring! I look and can’t see enough. The whole of Rome was now strewn with roses; but my sense of smell is even sweeter from the flowers that have now bloomed and whose name I really forgot at that moment. We don't have them. Do you believe that there often comes a frantic desire to turn into just one nose, so that there is nothing else - no eyes, no arms, no legs, except for just one huge nose, whose nostrils would be like big buckets, so that you can draw into yourself how maybe more incense and spring. (Letter to Smirnova)
What a land Italy is! There is no way you can imagine it. Oh, if you would only look at this blinding sky, all drowning in radiance! Everything is beautiful under this sky; every ruin is a painting; the person has some kind of sparkling coloring; a structure, a tree, a work of nature, a work of art - everything seems to breathe and speak under this sky. When everything changes for you, when you no longer have anything left that would tie you to any corner of the world, come to Italy. There is no better fate than to die in Rome; a whole mile here people are closer to the sky. (Letter to Pletnev)
2V. A. ZHUKOVSKY
If you only knew with what joy I left Switzerland and flew to my darling, my beautiful Italy! She is mine! No one in the world can take it away from me. I was born here. Russia, St. Petersburg, snow, scoundrels, department, department, theater - I dreamed of all this. I woke up again in my homeland and only regretted that the poetic part of this dream - you, and three or four memories that left eternal joy in my soul - did not turn into reality. (...) As if with a purpose, the almighty hand of providence threw me under the sparkling sky of Italy so that I would forget about the mountain, about the people, about everything and soak in its luxurious beauties. She replaced everything for me. I'm cheerful. My soul is bright...
A. S. DANILEVSKY
Never have I felt so immersed in such calm bliss. Oh Rome, Rome! Oh Italy! Whose hand will tear me out of here? What a sky! What days! Summer is not summer, spring is not spring, but it is better than both spring and summer, which exist in other parts of the world. What kind of air! I drink - I don’t get drunk, I look - I don’t get enough of it. There is heaven and paradise in the soul. Now I have few acquaintances in Rome, or, better yet, almost no one. But I have never been so cheerful, so satisfied with life.
My apartment is all in the sun: Strada Felice, N 126, ultimo piano (top floor).
A. S. DANILEVSKY
You ask me where I go in the summer. Nowhere, nowhere, except Rome. My wandering staff no longer exists. Do you remember that my stick was carried away by the waves of Lake Geneva. I'm sitting at home now; There are no painful desires that drag me into the distance, except to travel to Naples and Frascati or Albani... I am finally completely beginning to understand the science of saving. The past month was the height of triumph for me: I managed to raise the costs of the entire continuation to 160 rubles with our money, including in this number rent, salary for a teacher (Italian), bon gout, cafe, grec and even books bought at auction . Wonderful days! There are no better ones in heaven.
N. YA. PROKOPOVICH
I'm looking forward to summer. It was a wonderful winter here. I have never heated the room, and there is no stove. Sun, and days without clouds; but spring brought both cold and rain.
A. S. DANILEVSKY
I am writing a letter to you, sitting in a grotto in the villa of Princess Zinaida Volkonka, and at that moment a beautiful torrential, summer, luxurious rain fell, bringing life and joy to the roses and all the colorful vegetation around me. A refreshing cold penetrated my limbs, tired from the morning’s somewhat stuffy walk. The white hat has been on my head for a long time, but I haven’t put on the blouse yet. Last Sunday she wanted to show off a little on my broad and at the same time frail shoulders, on the occasion of a proposed trip to Tivoli; but this trip did not take place. Tomorrow, if the weather is good, then the blouse is in use; for the pittoria (painters) are all leaving and the donkeys are already cheerfully waving at me from afar.
In Rome, the time of the beginning of May is delightful. In the summer, when it gets very hot, I’m thinking of leaving for a month, especially since everyone leaves almost at that time. Book Zinaida Volkonskaya, for whom I always had friendship and respect and who delighted my time in Rome, left, and now I have few acquaintances in the city with whom my soul loved to talk. But the nature here replaces everything.
[According to N.V. BERG]
I traveled once between the towns of Giansano and Albano, in the month of July. In the middle of the road, on a hillock, there is a miserable inn, with a billiards table in the main room, where balls are always rattling and conversations in different languages can be heard. Everyone passing by certainly stops here, especially when it’s hot. I stopped too. At that time I was writing the first volume of Dead Souls, and this notebook never left me. I don’t know why, exactly at that moment when I entered this tavern, I wanted to write. I ordered to be given a table, sat down in a corner, took out my briefcase and, amid the thunder of rolling balls, with incredible noise, the running of the servants, in the smoke, in the stuffy atmosphere, I fell into an amazing sleep and wrote an entire chapter without leaving my place. I find these lines to be some of the most inspiring. I have rarely written with such animation.
The climate of Naples made no difference to me. I expected that the heat here would be unbearable for me, but the opposite happened: I barely hear them, I don’t even sweat or get tired; however, maybe because I don’t make too much movement... The other day I made a short trip by sea, on a large boat, to some islands, and by the way visited the famous blue grotto on the island of Capri... I like life in Rome I like it better than in Naples, despite the fact that it is much noisier here.
A. S. DANILEVSKY
Winter in Rome is lovely. I felt so good! Now I feel worse: summer is bad, stuffy and cold. Naples is not what I thought it would be. No, Rome is better. It's stuffy, dusty, unclean here. Rome seems like Paris versus Naples, seems like a dandy. The Italians here are unrecognizable; you need to resort to a stick - worse than here in Rus'... I live in Castella Mare, two hours from Naples. Here I started to drink water, but left the water. There is a terrible abundance of waters here: one island, Iskio, is completely steamed with mineral springs. The rocks are lovely. I spend my time somehow: I would spend it perfectly if it were not for my health.
I'm still not in Rome, and I won't be for a long time - at least for a whole month. Living in Rome now is still hot, and I also want to see many more cities and lands I have never seen.
A. S. DANILEVSKY
from Rome
Somehow I still haven’t woken up in Rome. It’s as if there is some kind of chaff in my eyes that prevents me from seeing it in the wonderful splendor in which it appeared to me when I drove into it for the second time. Perhaps because I still have not adjusted myself to Roman life. (...) Here I met some acquaintances who had not yet allowed me to enter my old rut, in which I was plodding slowly, or better yet, somehow. I would like to throw myself into the arts with the ardor of a beginner and run to actively examine all the wonders of Rome again, but there is some devil in my stomach that prevents me from seeing everything in the form I would like to see, and reminds me of dinner, then of breakfast, in a word - all sinful impulses, despite the holiness of the places, the wonderful sun, the wonderful days... Yes, what struck me most was Peter [Peter's Council]. It grew terribly, the dome became unusually huge.
Nikolai Vasilyevich Gogol lived for a long time in Rome between 1837 and 1846. In total he spent about four and a half years in Rome, returning to Rome nine times. I suggest you choose your favorite quote from Nikolai Vasilyevich in the comments:
- “Moreover, my very nature contains the ability to imagine the world vividly only when I have moved away from it. That's why I can only write about Russia in Rome. Only there she is before me all, in all her enormity. And here I died and mixed in with others. There is no open horizon before me. Moreover, here, in addition to external reasons that can confuse me, I feel a physical obstacle to writing. […] In Rome I wrote in front of an open window, surrounded by air that was beneficial and miraculous to me. But you yourself can feel in your soul how much I can sometimes suffer at a time when no one else can see my suffering.”
Letter to Pletnev from Moscow March 17, 1842 - “Come someday, even at sunset, to Rome, to my grave, if I am no longer alive. God, what a land! what a land of wonders! and how fresh the soul is there!”
Letter to M.A. To Maksimovich, January 22, 1840 - “If you only knew with what joy I left Switzerland and flew to my darling, my beautiful Italy. She is mine! No one in the world can take it away from me! I was born here. - Russia, St. Petersburg, snow, scoundrels, department, department, theater - I dreamed of all this. I woke up again in my homeland and only regretted that the poetic part of this dream ... "
Letter to Zhukovsky dated October 30, 1837 - “Everything is mixed together here. An amazing liberty, from which you would probably be delighted.”
Letter to Danilevsky dated February 8, 1838 about the Roman carnival, where Gogol found himself for the first time in his life - “I don’t know if I wrote to you about . They are very rich. We don't have such churches at all. The inside is all marble of different colors; entire columns made of porphyry, blue, and yellow stone. Painting, architecture - all this is amazing. But you don’t know any of this yet.”
Letter to the sisters in October 1838 - “Speaking of forestiers (foreign traveler, author’s note). All winter, a wonderful, amazing winter, a hundred times better than the St. Petersburg summer, all this winter, to the greatest happiness, I did not see the forestiers; but now a bunch of them suddenly arrived for Easter, and among them a whole gang of Russians. What obnoxious people! He came and got angry that the streets in Rome were unclean, there was no entertainment at all, there were a lot of monks, and he repeated phrases that were extracted from calendars and old almanacs back in the last century, that Italians are scoundrels, deceivers, and so on. and so on, but how the barracks smell from them - it’s just impossible. However, they are punished for the stupidity of their soul by the fact that they are unable to enjoy, fall in love with feelings and thoughts in the beautiful and sublime, unable to recognize Italy. »
- “How many Englishmen do you have in Pisa, There are so many Russians in Rome. All of them, as usual, scold Rome very much because there are no hotels and shops there, like in Paris, and cardinals do not give balls"
Letter to Varvara Repnina in January 1839 - “Everything is mixed together here. An amazing liberty from which you would probably be delighted.”.
Letter to A.S. Danilevsky dated February 2, 1838 - “Were you familiar with the Transteverians?(this is what Gogol calls the inhabitants, author’s note) , that is, the inhabitants on the other side of the Tiber, who are so proud of their pure Roman origin. They alone consider themselves real Romans. Never before has a Trans-Teverian married a foreigner (and anyone who is not in their city is called a foreigner), and never before has a Trans-Teverian married a foreigner. Have you ever heard their language and have you read their famous poem Il meo Patacca, for which Pinelli did the drawings? But you probably never happened to read the sonnets of the current Roman poet Belli, which, however, you need to hear when he himself reads. In them, in these sonnets, there is so much salt and so much poignancy, completely unexpected, and they so faithfully reflect the life of today's trans-Teverians that you will laugh, and this heavy cloud that often flies over your head will fly away along with the annoying and unbearable your headache."
Letter to Balabina in April 1838 - “But Rome, our wonderful Rome, the paradise in which, I think, you live mentally in the best moments of your thoughts, this Rome captivated and bewitched me. I just can’t break out of it.”
Letter to A.S. Danilevsky dated June 30, 1838 - “...bright, with a lively soul I will go to my promised paradise, to my Rome, where I will wake up again and finish my work(Dead souls, author's note) «
Letter from Moscow in January 1840 to Zhukovsky. - “If you only knew how painful my existence is here, in my fatherland! I can’t wait for spring and the time to go to my Rome, to my paradise, where I will again feel the freshness and strength cooling here"
Letter from Moscow in January 1840 to M.A. Maksimovich - « You fall in love with Rome very slowly, little by little - and for the rest of your life. In short, all of Europe is for watching, and Italy is for living. This is what all those who stayed to live here say.”
Letter to A.S. Danilevsky dated March 15, 1838 - « I miss Rome terribly. There only I was completely calm, healthy and could indulge in my studies.”
Letter from Geneva September 19, 1837 to N.Ya Prokopovich - “What a land Italy is! There is no way you can imagine it. Oh, if you would only look at this blinding sky, all drowning in radiance! Everything is beautiful under this sky; every ruin is a painting; the person has some kind of sparkling coloring; a structure, a tree, a work of nature, a work of art - everything seems to breathe and speak under this sky.”
Letter November 2, 1837 to Pletnev - « And when I finally saw Rome for the second time, oh, how better it seemed to me than before! It seemed to me that I saw my homeland, which I had not visited for several years, and in which only my thoughts lived. But no, this is not the same, not my homeland, but the homeland of my soul, where my soul lived before me, before I was born. Again the same sky, now all silver, dressed in some kind of satin sparkle, now blue, as it likes to appear through the arches of the Colosseum(meaning
This is what Gogol says about Italy: “Here is my opinion! Whoever has been to Italy, say “forgive” to other lands. Whoever was in heaven will not want to come to earth. In a word, Europe in comparison with Italy is the same as a cloudy day in comparison with a sunny day!”
Many thanks to Mr. Tsereteli for the monument in the truly academic style!!! those who are not able to make a classic monument are looking for new means...And how the people adore the monument to Gogol on Gogol Boulevard in Moscow!!!
14.03.06
, [email protected], evdokia
