Taras Bulba

“ As he passed through the suburb, Taras Bulba saw that his Jew, Yankel, had already erected a sort of booth with an awning, and was selling flint, screwdrivers, powder, and all sorts of military stores needed on the road, even to rolls and bread. “What devils these Jews are!” thought Taras; and riding up to him, he said, “Fool, why are you sitting here? do you want to be shot like a crow?” ”

“ Fearful is the vengeance that Taras Bulba takes on the enemy; fearful is his own death, lashed to a tree, and burned alive by his foes. He dies, merrily roaring defiant taunts at his tormentors. And Gogol himself closes his hero's eyes with the question, "Can any fire, flames, or power be found on earth, which are capable of overpowering Russian strength?"
In its particular class of fiction, Taras Bulba has no equal except the Polish trilogy of Sienkiewicz ”

“ But if you will heed the words of an old man, there is no one more fit to act as temporary atamán than Taras Bulba. Not one of us is his equal in valour."
Thus spoke Bovdyug, and paused; and all the kazáks rejoiced that the old man had, in this manner, set them to rights. ”

“ Before the Cornet managed to seize the atamán's head by its scalp-lock and fasten it to his saddle, a savage avenger arrived.
As a vulture hovering in the sky, beating great circles with its mighty wings, suddenly remains poised in air, in one spot, and thence darts down like an arrow upon the shrieking cock quail beside the road; just so did Taras's son Ostap fly suddenly upon the kazák, and fling a rope about his neck with one cast. The Cornet's red face grew a still deeper crimson when the cruel noose pressed his throat, and he tried to seize his pistol ”

“ No, brothers, to love as the Russian soul loves, is to love not with the mind or anything else, but with all that God has given you, all that is within you.—Ah!" said Taras, and waved his hand, shook his grey head, twitched his moustache, and then went on: "No, no one can love In that way! I know that baseness has now made its way into our land. Men care only to possess ricks of grain and hay, and their droves of horses, and that their sealed mead may be untouched in their cellars; they adopt the Devil only knows what Mussulman customs. They abhor their own language. ”

“ Gogol has written in “Taras Bulba” his own reproach to the nineteenth century. It is sad and joyous like one of those Ukrainian songs which have helped to inspire him to write it. And then, as he cut himself off more and more from the world of the past, life became a sadder and still sadder thing to him; modern life, with all its gigantic pettiness, closed in around him, he began to write of petty officials and of petty scoundrels, “commonplace heroes” he called them. But nothing is ever lost in this world. Gogol’s romanticism, shut in within himself, finding no outlet, became a flame. ”

“ Vigorously and accurately they fired at a target; they swam across the Dnyeper against the current,—a deed for which a novice was triumphantly received into the circle of kazáks.
But old Taras had planned a different sort of activity for them. Such an idle existence was not to his mind: he wanted actual work. He meditated incessantly how he might stir up the Syech to some bold enterprise, wherein a man could carouse as became a knight. At last he went one day to the Koshevói and said plainly:
"Well, Koshevói, 'tis time for the Zaporozhtzi to make a little excursion." ”

“ Why the devil should I tarry here? To become a sower of buckwheat and a housekeeper, to tend sheep and swine, and fondle my wife? Devil take them! I'm a kazák; I'll have none of them! I'll go with you to Zaporozhe to carouse, by God, I will!" And Bulba gradually grew warmer and warmer, and at last rose from the table, and in a thorough rage, striking a majestic pose, he stamped his foot. "We'll go to-morrow! Why tarry? What enemy can we besiege here? What's this cottage to us? What do we want of all this? What are pots to us?" ”

“ A throng of people hastened to the shore with boats. The Cossacks arranged the horses’ trappings. Taras assumed a stately air, pulled his belt tighter, and proudly stroked his moustache. His sons also inspected themselves from head to foot, with some apprehension and an undefined feeling of satisfaction; and all set out together for the suburb, which was half a verst from the Setch. On their arrival, they were deafened by the clang of fifty blacksmiths’ hammers beating upon twenty-five anvils sunk in the earth. Stout tanners seated beneath awnings were scraping ox-hides with their strong hands ”

“ But the Zaporozhtzi soon began to tire of inactivity and prolonged sobriety, unaccompanied by any fighting. The Koshevói even ordered the allowance of liquor to be doubled, which was sometimes done in the army when difficult enterprises or operations were under way. The young men in general, and Taras Bulba's sons in particular, did not like this life. Andríi was visibly bored. "You silly head!" said Taras to him: "Be patient, kazák, you will be Atamán some day. And he is not a good warrior who loses his spirit in an important affair ”

“ A third part of them sank in the depths of the sea; but the rest again assembled, and gained the mouth of the Dnieper with twelve kegs full of sequins. But all this did not interest Taras. He went off upon the steppe as though to hunt; but the charge remained in his gun, and, laying down the weapon, he would seat himself sadly on the shores of the sea. He sat there long with drooping head, repeating continually, “My Ostap, my Ostap!” Before him spread the gleaming Black Sea; in the distant reeds the sea-gull screamed. His grey moustache turned to silver, and the tears fell one by one upon it. ”

“ Taras Bulba and his sons had been in the Setch about a week. Ostap and Andrii occupied themselves but little with the science of war. The Setch was not fond of wasting time in warlike exercises. The young generation learned these by experience alone, in the very heat of battles, which were therefore incessant. The Cossacks thought it a nuisance to fill up the intervals of this instruction with any kind of drill, except perhaps shooting at a mark, and on rare occasions with horse-racing and wild-beast hunts on the steppes and in the forests. ”

“ Bulba was terribly headstrong. He was one of those characters which could only exist in that fierce fifteenth century, and in that half-nomadic corner of Europe, when the whole of Southern Russia, deserted by its princes, was laid waste and burned to the quick by pitiless troops of Mongolian robbers; when men deprived of house and home grew brave there; when, amid conflagrations, threatening neighbours, and eternal terrors, they settled down, and growing accustomed to looking these things straight in the face, trained themselves not to know that there was such a thing as fear in the world ”

“ Two other Jews lay down on the floor beside the cupboard, like a couple of family dogs. But Taras did not sleep: he sat motionless, drumming lightly on the table with his fingers. He kept his pipe in his mouth, and puffed out smoke which made the Jew sneeze, in a state of semi-waking, and wrap up his nose in his coverlet. Scarcely was the sky tinged with the first faint gleams of dawn, when he pushed Yankel with his foot: "Rise, Jew, and give me your Count's dress!" ”

“ Meanwhile, there began to appear among the throng men who were respected for their prowess throughout the entire Syech,—old greyheads, who had been leaders more than once. Taras soon encountered a number of familiar faces. Ostap and Andríi heard nothing but greetings.—"Ah, so it's you, Pecheritza!—Good day, Kozolup!—Whence has God brought you, Taras?—How did you come here, Doloto?—Health to you, Kirdyaga!—Hail to you, Gustyi!—Who would ever have thought of seeing you, Remen?" ”

“ Taras was one of the band of old-fashioned leaders; he was born for warlike emotions, and was distinguished for his uprightness of character. At that epoch the influence of Poland had already begun to make itself felt upon the Russian nobility. Many had adopted Polish customs, and began to display luxury in splendid staffs of servants, hawks, huntsmen, dinners, and palaces. This was not to Taras’s taste. He liked the simple life of the Cossacks, and quarrelled with those of his comrades who were inclined to the Warsaw party, calling them serfs of the Polish nobles. ”

“ Look at the evil-minded fellow!” said Yankel to Taras, perceiving that the heyduke was turning the money over in his hand as though regretting that he had not demanded more.
“What do you mean, you devil of a heyduke?” said Bulba. “What do you mean by taking our money and not letting us see the Cossacks? No, you must let us see them. Since you have taken the money, you have no right to refuse.” ”

“ Strain his ears as he might, Bulba could make nothing of it: he only caught the word "Mardokhai" often repeated, nothing more.
"Listen, noble lord," said Yankel. "We must consult with a man such as there never was before in all the world...! as wise as Solomon he is; and if he will do nothing, then no one in the world can do anything. Sit here: this is the key; admit no one!" Thereupon the Jews went out into the street.
Taras locked the door, and gazed from the tiny window upon the dirty Jewish prospect. ”

“ Yet “Taras Bulba” was in a sense an accident, just as many other works of great men are accidents. It often requires a happy combination of circumstances to produce a masterpiece. I have already told in my introduction to “Dead Souls” (1) how Gogol created his great realistic masterpiece, which was to influence Russian literature for generations to come, under the influence of models so remote in time or place as “Don Quixote” or “Pickwick Papers” ”

“ How dare you say that our Faith is not respected? It's your heretical faith which is not respected."
"Oho, ho!" said the heyduke. "Well, I know who you are, my friend; you're one of those who are under my charge. So wait, I'll summon our men."
Taras perceived his indiscretion; but vexation and obstinacy prevented his devising a means of remedying it. Fortunately, Yankel managed to interpose at this moment:—"Most illustrious sir, how is it possible that the Count should be a kazák? And if he were a kazák, where could he have obtained such a dress, and such a count-like mien?" ”

“ The Zaporozhetz had stretched himself out in the road like a lion; his scalp-lock, thrown proudly behind him, extended over half an arshin of ground; [4] his trousers, of costly scarlet cloth, were spotted with tar, to show his utter disdain for them. Having admired him to his heart's content, Bulba passed on through the narrow street, which was crowded with mechanics pursuing their trades, and with men of all nationalities, who thronged this suburb of the Syech, which resembled a fair, and fed and clothed Syech that knew only how to revel and to discharge guns. ”

“ He knew that however good in itself the wine might be and however fitted to strengthen the spirit of man, yet, if a suitable speech were linked with it, then the strength of the wine and of the spirit would be doubled.
“I treat you, brother gentles,” thus spoke Bulba, “not in honour of your having made me hetman, however great such an honour may be, nor in honour of our parting from our comrades. To do both would be fitting at a fitting time; but the moment before us is not such a time. The work before us is great both in labour and in glory for the Cossacks. ”

“ When a man is in love, then all things are the same to him; like the sole of a shoe which you can bend in any direction if you soak it in water.”
Bulba reflected deeply. He remembered the power of weak woman—how she had ruined many a strong man, and that this was the weak point in Andrii’s nature—and stood for some time in one spot, as though rooted there. “Listen, my lord, I will tell my lord all,” said the Jew. ”

“ The kazáks had risen up everywhere, in Chigirin, from Pereyaslav, from Baturin, from Glukhov, from the regions of the lower Dnyeper, from the whole of its upper course and from the islands. Innumerable horses, and countless camps of carts stretched across the plain. And among all these kazáks, among all those eight regiments, one regiment was the flower of them all, and it was led by Taras Bulba. Everything contributed to give him weight over the others: his advanced years, his experience and skill in directing his troops, and his hatred of the foe, which surpassed that of all the rest. ”

“ "Yes, he's a glorious fighter," said Bulba, pausing; "by God! that was a good one!" he continued, somewhat as though he were excusing himself; "yes, although he has never tried his hand at it before. He'll make a good kazák! Now, welcome, my lad, let's greet each other;" and father and son began to exchange kisses. "Good, little son! see that you thrash every one else as you have thrashed me; don't you knuckle under to any one. All the same, your outfit is ridiculous—What's this rope hanging here?—And you, you clumsy lout, why are you standing there with your arms dangling?" ”

“ Now—to the Faith, sir brothers, to the Faith!"
"To the Faith!" shouted, with thick voices, those who were standing in the near-by ranks. "To the Faith!" those more distant took up the cry,—and all, both young and old, drank to the Faith.
"To the Syech!" said Taras, raising his hand high above his head.
"To the Syech!" echoed the foremost ranks. "To the Syech!" said the old men softly, twitching their grey moustaches; and eagerly as young hawks the youths repeated: "To the Syech!" And the distant plain heard how the kazáks commemorated their Syech. ”