among them a man named Solomin.

Solomin was a factory manager and a good one—a calm, taciturn man of great strength of character. Sipyagin had tried to hire him to manage Sipyagin’s own factory, but Solomin had refused. He was content where he was and could scarcely conceal his contempt for the whole aristocracy. Sipyagin had taken the refusal with bad grace and now began to show suspicion of Nezhdanoff.

From time to time Marianna and Nezhdanoff met in her room at night to discuss socialism. Although they were in love, they did not act as lovers. Valentina spied on the girl constantly. She made insinuations about her niece’s character, and the atmosphere in the household became quite unpleasant. At length Sipyagin discharged Nezhdanoff. Early the next morning Nezhdanoff returned with a cart for Marianna, and the two fled for shelter to the factory where Solomin was employed. The manager concealed them in his living quarters, and Nezhdanoff and Marianna lived together as brother and sister, waiting for the time when Nezhdanoff could be sure enough of his love to marry.

Marianna put on peasant clothes and tried to learn peasant ways so that she would be a good worker for the revolutionary cause. Nezhdanoff, roughly clothed, made many trips among the farmers and mill hands to talk to them of liberty and freedom. He was unsuccessful in his attempts, however, for he was far too impetuous and harangued peasant groups in words they could not understand. On one occasion Nezhdanoff tried to drink vodka to ingratiate himself with the workers, but strong drink only made him sick. More and more he became conscious of failure and felt that he could not marry Marianna. She, in turn, became more aware of Nezhdanoff’s weakness and Solomin’s strength.

When the peasants in Markeloff’s district rebelled against paying their taxes, Markeloff rashly urged complete and armed rebellion, but his manner was so abusive that the peasants turned against him, beat him severely, and delivered him to the general commanding the district police. This disquieting news reached Solomin’s factory, and the conspirators there made plans to flee.

Pahklin, misguided in his sympathy, decided to appeal to Sipyagin to intercede for his brother-in-law Markeloff. Foolishly, he babbled the hiding place of Marianna and Nezhdanoff. Sipyagin kept Pahklin under close surveillance and went to see the general. Sipyagin’s influence was so great that the general consented to release Markeloff if he would confess his crime and promise to stir up no more trouble. Markeloff, however, was stubborn. He repeated his belief in the revolution and refused to acknowledge any errors. The general had no choice but to imprison him. Then at the instigation of Sipyagin, the police prepared to raid Solomin’s factory.

Solomin quietly made plans to disappear. Nezhdanoff, confronted by his own weakness and by his inability to love Marianna enough to marry her, wrote a last letter and killed himself with a revolver. In the letter he asked that Marianna marry Solomin. An obliging priest performed the ceremony quickly, and Solomin and Marianna departed. When the police arrived, they discovered only the suicide of Nezhdanoff.

Markeloff was tried and sentenced to Siberia. Solomin reappeared but was released because the police had no evidence against him. He rejoined Marianna, who had by that time agreed to live with him as his wife. They were busy with Solomin’s new factory.

Back in St. Petersburg, Pahklin was unhappy, for the liberals now called him a spy. By chance, he met Miss Mashurin in the street. She was now supposedly an Italian countess. Somewhere she had secured an Italian passport and funds for traveling. Pahklin invited her to have tea with him. Although she despised him, she accepted, for he had been Nezhdanoff’s friend. Pahklin gave Miss Mashurin a photograph of Nezhdanoff, with whom she had always been in love.

Critical Evaluation:

Ivan Turgenev had lived in voluntary exile from his native land for a number of years by the time he wrote VIRGIN SOIL, and many critics said that the book showed how much he had lost touch with Russia; yet, with the hindsight of a century, it seems astonishing that he was able to foretell so accurately the events which were to sweep over Russia in the fifty years after the novel’s publication. The novel deals with revolutionaries, many of whom are ineffectual or halfhearted; but at the end of the novel, it is clear that some of these people will continue to work for radical change and that others will succeed them. As Solomin tells Marianna, they will not live to see the revolution triumph, and perhaps several generations will not see it, but eventually it must succeed. And, as he foretold, it did, for better or for worse, alter the world.

VIRGIN SOIL analyzes with shrewdness and great psychological penetration a broad spectrum of the individuals who are attracted to the revolutionary cause. Radical students, frustrated artists, unhappy young women, lonely young men, many different types fall together for a variety of reasons, not all of them idealistic. Because these people have so little in common, it is not surprising that they often fail to work together and frequently fight among themselves. Yet, for the most part, Turgenev pictures them sympathetically. Even those who are not admirable are understandable; Turgenev never condemns people out of hand but seeks to explain how and why individuals become what they are.

The novel is carefully structured, beginning and ending with Pahklin and Mashurin discussing Nezhdanoff and the Cause. Between these two scenes, the story of the little band of radicals and the people with whom its members come in contact develops skillfully, the many threads uniting to create a frustrating picture of Russia in a ferment of change. The plot is both suspenseful and subtle, relying more on psychological motivations than on melodramatic action. As in all of Turgenev’s novels, the story is told in exquisitely controlled prose, at once poetic and strong; the settings are brilliantly rendered but never allowed to intrude between the reader and the characters. Above all, Turgenev is an artist perfectly in control of his material.

The weakness of Nezhdanoff’s temperament is first suggested when he begins to compare himself to Hamlet, a comparison which then continues through the novel. Nezhdanoff is not certain that he believes enough in the radical cause to devote his life to it; he feels that he ought to believe, and he wants to believe, but he cannot make up his mind. Marianna later stirs him again, after his conviction has cooled, but eventually he again realizes that he has been deceiving himself: He never was a revolutionary at heart. Because of his inability to take a straightforward stand, he destroys himself and nearly takes several others with him. As in most of Turgenev’s novels (only FATHERS AND SONS, 1862, is an exception), the male protagonist is weak while the female is strong and sure of herself.

Nezhdanoff is from the start an ineffectual propagandist. He soon discovers that everybody is discontented, but no one cares to find a remedy for the discontent. It is more difficult for a student and poet such as himself to confront real life than he had supposed. He calls himself a democrat and a lover of the people, yet even the smell of their vodka makes him sick. If people do take his pamphlets, they turn out to be the undesirable sort. The two young women are very different from each other, but both are completely dedicated and have the strength of character not to be sidetracked by personalities or temporary setbacks. Turgenev showed a particularly powerful insight into the changes about to overtake Russia and the world when he described the revolutionary roles that women were to play in the battle for the new order. It is woman who breaks the silence of the “anonymous Russia,” not the sensitive poet-revolutionary or even the narrow-minded professional radical.

A far more effective liberal mover than Nezhdanoff is Solomin, the factory superintendent. It is no coincidence that his name suggests the wise king of the Bible, for he is the most completely admirable character in the book. Nearly everybody who comes in contact with him admires his intelligence, his integrity, his sense of honor, and his ability to get things done. Even his subordinates at the factory respect him, and Valentina, although certain that she is superior to him, finds herself strangely attracted to this simple, direct man. He realizes that the Russian people are sleeping and will not awaken in his time, but he is willing to make his effort and let the future take care of the rest. Above all, he is a realist. Turgenev clearly admires this sensible man and implies that Russia could use more men like him, men more willing to be straightforward and hardworking and less concerned with saving face.

The most striking scenes in the novel are between women. Turgenev’s genius emerges at its most powerful when he allows two women to confront each other, as when Marianna and Valentina finally tell each other their true feelings. Equally effective is the scene between Marianna and Mashurina at the factory. In quite a different way, the scene in which the peasant woman Tatiana and the aristocratic radical Marianna become friends is very well done. An earthy and far from stupid woman, Tatiana is able to educate Marianna about the ways of the working class. She sees the humor of Marianna’s seeking to lower herself but is neither condescending nor resentful. The two women agree that education is the key to any radical movement.

The novel is filled with brilliantly sketched-in characters, many of them strikingly humorous. Fomishka and Fimishka Subotchev, two refugees from the eighteenth century, provide both comic relief and a touching contrast in the grotesque vignette in which they appear. Kallomyeitzev, a stupid and vain property owner, insecure in his position and therefore more conservative than any of the older landed gentry, is as absurd as he is repulsive; Turgenev perfectly understands him and portrays him in all of his pettiness and hypocritical gallantry. Perhaps the cool and beautiful Valentina is Turgenev’s outstanding creation; complicated, subtle, vain, and vengeful, she is also honest and proud, a woman who understands her own faults and shortcomings as well as she understands her strengths. She is not an admirable person, but she is a superb character, and Turgenev has made the most of her.

VIRGIN SOIL, although written when Turgenev was no longer young, deals mostly with young people. With remarkable insight and skill, Turgenev entered into the psychology of his youthful characters, exploring their strengths and weaknesses, analyzing their ideals and dreams. The novel stands as both a historical record of the beginnings of the radical movement in Russia and as a perceptive and subtle novel of human conviction and idealism.