THE OVERCOAT SUMMARY

How It All Goes Down

Once upon a time in a town called St. Petersburg, there was a low-ranking officially who was
unfortunately named Akaky Akakievich Bashmachkin. Akaky was a poor guy, but he loved his
job. In fact, he loved it so much that all he did when he went home every day was do more
work.

But there's a problem in this mundane fairy tale: Akaky's coat is falling apart. Simple solution,
right? Patch it up and the story's over. Not so fast there, kiddo. This coat is beyond repair, and
a new one will cost twice Akaky's salary. And don't forgetwe're talking about Russia here, so
just going without a coat is definitely not an option. What's he to do?

We'll tell you. He scrounges by for a couple of months until he has enough money to get a
coat made. When it's done, it's gorgeous. Something you'd get straight out of the fashion
magazines. Everyone at work loves it so much that they even throw him a party.

A coat party. Only in Russia.

Oh, we forgot to mention something. Akaky is an awkward loner. So even though he enjoys
the party in theory, the noise, people, and drinking get to him. He leaves the shindig earlier
than everyone else, but still later than he's ever gone home.

As a poor man in 19th-century Russia, Akaky doesn't exactly live in a safe neighborhood. And
you know what can happen to a guy with a fancy new coat in a dangerous neighborhood late
at night. Yep. Akaky gets mugged.

Now the craziness begins. Akaky goes from official to official trying to get someone to
investigate the theft of his coat, but no one will work with him. Finally the last official is so
mean to Akaky that he dejectedly walks home without a coat in the harsh Russian winter. He
gets a throat infection, and two days later he dies.

The last official tries to make amends with Akaky a week later, but it's too late. He's dead. In
order to cheer himself up, the official goes to a party. But on the way back from the party, he
gets his coat stolen by Akaky's ghost. Ah, retribution at last.

THE OVERCOAT "THE OVERCOAT" SUMMARY

"The Overcoat"

1
 We begin with a certain official. A low-ranking one. An ugly one. One with the name
equivalent of Poopy McPooper-son. Our protagonist Akaky Akakievich Bashmachkin.
Now we know what you're thinking: No one in their right mind would name their child
after poop. But really, his mom had no other choice because the names his
godparents chose just didn't sound right, whatever kind of excuse that is.
So she named him after his dad, Akaky. And since -evich is the Russian version of -son,
he became Akaky Akakievich. Totally reasonable.
As far as anybody knows, Akaky was born in his uniform and had been an official ever
since, Benjamin Button-style. Despite that, Akaky gets no respect. People act like he's
not even there, and the younger officials make fun of him. None of this matters to
Akaky, however, since he loves his job so much.
One day, the younger officials stop Akaky from doing his work, and he yells at them to
leave him alone. This blows one of the young official's minds, and from that day
forward, he can never forget how inhumanely he treated Akaky. Did it get deep in
here or is it just us?
Anyway, back to Akaky. He loves his job, and even though he's basically a human
Xerox machine, he treats his job like it's the best thing since sliced bread.
He is totally content with his situation, even refusing a slight promotion from one of
his directors. For him, it's copying or nothing.
When everyone else is out partying, eating, or having fun, Akaky is in his room
copying papers. And he probably would have continued doing this for the rest of his
life if he weren't so unlucky.
Akaky lives in St. Petersburg, which is known for its crazy cold winters. Everyone in the
city has to deal with the cold, but it's worse for people like Akaky who don't have
enough money to buy a fancy warm coat. It's hard out there for a human printer, in
Akaky's case.
Akaky owns an overcoat but he starts noticing that he feels cold in his back and
shoulders on the way to work.
One day, he suddenly realizes that his coat is basically a pile of rags. Of course,
everyone else knew that already and even made fun of him for it, but Akaky is
normally too busy copying letters to notice. This man's work ethic is something to
admire, that's for sure.
So he brings the coat to his tailor, Petrovich. Petrovich is not the kind of guy that we
would choose to be our tailor. He drinks all the time, argues with his wife, can't seem
to thread a needle, and on top of all that, he's angry. Not a good recipe.

2
 Akaky hopes that Petrovich could just patch his coat a bit for only a couple of rubles,
but no such luck. The coat is so old that it's literally falling apart. Petrovich isn't going
near it.
It's time for a new coat, but Akaky doesn't have the money. A new coat would cost 150
rubles, and that's just the basic model.
When Akaky leaves Petrovich, he's in a daze. He doesn't even notice that trash is
dumped on his head and he gets covered in soot.
By the time he gets home Akaky calms down and thinks of a plan. He'll go back to
Petrovich on Sunday, when he's still a little drunk and sleepy. That should work.
Fast forward to Sunday, and Akaky is back at Petrovich's shop. Unfortunately, Akaky is
very unlucky, and as soon as he mentions the overcoat, Petrovich snaps out of his
hangover. He's not budging. Akaky has to get a new coat, no if's, and's, or but's.
Like we said before, Akaky's problem is that he has no money. Even though it's still
pretty expensive for him, Akaky manages to negotiate Petrovich down to 80 rubles.
He already had 40 rubles saved up, so Akaky just lives a very simple and very cold life
until he can get the other 40.
Next, something out of the ordinary happens. Akaky decides to get the coat made,
and even though he's kind of anxious, he looks forward to it. So much so that he
makes a mistake in his work for the first time ever. This is the guy who even copies
papers in his spare time.
Then when it's time for Akaky's raise, he hits the jackpot. Instead of 40 rubles, he gets
60! Looks like it's coat o'clock for Akaky, no more frigid walks home in the cold
Russian winter.
They go to the store, get the best materials they can afford, and Petrovich works for
two weeks making the coat. When it's done, he goes to Akaky and presents it to him
like it's the royal jewels. It's the best day of Akaky's life.
But then he gets to work. Everyone hears the news and starts complimenting him.
At first he likes all the attention, but pretty soon it all becomes too much. He even
starts saying that it's not a new coat at all, but to no avail. By the end of the day he's
forced into going to a party to celebrate his new coat.
The guy throwing the party for Akaky's coat lives in the nice part of St. Petersburg,
somewhere really far away from Akaky's house. So to get there, he has to walk forever
across the dark, frozen city.
As he gets closer to the nice neighborhood, he sees all of these beautiful clothes and
advertisements that he has never seen before in his life.

3
 When he finally gets to this guy's house the party is already raging. Akaky acts just like
you'd expect someone who's never been to a party to act: crazy awkward. Like a cow
on a crutch.
Even though the party is showing no signs of stopping, once midnight rolls around
Akaky decides it's his bedtime and leaves without telling anyone.
Akaky's still got a skip in his step on his long walk home until he arrives at his
neighborhood. The sketchy neighborhood. As you probably guessed, he gets
mugged in the street and his coat is stolen. He even faints.
When he regains consciousness, Akaky screams bloody murder. He goes to the night
watchman, but he's no help. He says to talk to the captain in the morning.
Akaky goes home a mess. His hair is in disarray and he's covered in snowdefinitely
not a good look.
When the landlady sees him, she's shocked. After he tells her what happened to him,
she suggests that he go straight to the superintendent, because the captain probably
won't do anything to help.
So, that's exactly what poor, coatless Akaky does, but not without difficulty. At first, the
superintendent's clerks don't let him in. They only cave when he threatens to report
them, but even then, when he talks to the superintendent it seems like he's the one
being questioned instead of being helped.
All this makes Akaky pretty depressed. He doesn't even go to work, which is a pretty
big deal knowing how much he loves his job. When he goes in the next day, he wears
his old sloppy coat, and while lots of people feel bad for him, others still make fun of
him and no one really helps.
One guy tells him that he has to go speak to "a certain prominent personage." We
don't know who this prominent personage is, or what he does, but Akaky decides to
go see him anyway.
This seems like a horrible idea for a couple of reasons: 1) this mystery man seems to
be obsessed with making himself seem prominent, 2) he only makes himself seem
prominent by being strict and mean, and 3) he is even stricter and meaner to
low-ranking people like Akaky. This isn't going to be pretty.
By the time that Akaky finally gets to talk to this certain "prominent personage," the
dude is really in the mood to show off how mean he can be. It must be hard being so
prominent.
By just coming to his office, Akaky has somehow insulted him. He yells at Akaky, who
stands silently and doesn't even know what to say. This guy continues to lay into
Akaky so hard that our sad, coatless hero faints yet again.

4
 By the time Akaky wakes up, he has no idea what's going on. He walks home in the
terrible St. Petersburg winter without a coat and ends up developing quinsy, an
infection of the throat that swells until you can't breathe.
The prognosis is not good. He'll be dead in less than two days.
After developing the infection, Akaky turns into a different man. He's delusional and
raves in his sleep about the overcoat. He even curses, which he's never done in his life.
Then, he finally dies.
Akaky doesn't leave anything behind. The guys at his work don't even know he's dead
until they ask why he hasn't come in lately. Once they learn of Akaky's fate, they
promptly replace him with someone else.
The end.
Gotcha. If you know anything about Russian literature, you'd probably think the story
would end on this depressing note, but it keeps going.
Suddenly, there's a rumor around town that a ghost has started appearing at night
and stealing people's coats right off their backs. The police try to catch him, but (duh)
he's a ghost.
Then there's that "prominent personage," the guy who yelled at Akaky and made him
faint. After everything that happened, he starts to feel bad about what he did to Akaky.
By the time he tries to help him, however, Akaky is already dead. Talk about too little
too late.
To take his mind off of how horribly he treated a cold, sad, and now deceased man,
the prominent personage goes to a party and then pays a visit to a certain lady friend.
The sort of visit that you might call adultery, but, hey, who are we to judge.
Everything's going great until suddenly, the personage feels something around his
collar. It's Akaky, and he wants the dude's coat.
Akaky grabs the coat, and the prominent personage escapes in his carriage as fast as
he can, we imagine with his tail tucked between his legs. It's not every day you get
jumped by a ghost, after all. Instead of going to see his lady friend, he goes straight
home and is so freaked out that he won't tell anyone what happened.
A curious thing happens after this event, however: the personage starts to act less like
a jerk. More importantly, the ghost is gone. We guess the personage's coat fit Akaky
perfectly.
Even after Akaky's reign of terror ends, people keep seeing ghosts. But they definitely
aren't Akaky, since they are too tall, too huge, and too mustachioed. Who was it?
Maybe we'll never know.

THE OVERCOAT THEME OF POLITICS

5
Nope, we're not talking about Democrats and Republicans here. We're talking about ranks.
Titular councilors, Collegiate Assessors, Chancellors, and the whole nine yards. The world of
"The Overcoat" is awash in governmental officials. Everyone has to tread carefully in order not
to offend the people above and below them. Why is this so important? We don't know. But
wedo know that the rules of politics are strong enough in "The Overcoat" to cause one man's
death.

Questions About Politics

1. Why do you think that ranks are so important in " The Overcoat?" Is there any way to
change them? How?

2. What effects do ranks have on Akaky and the prominent personage? Are they good or
bad? Do you think they would have been the same characters if they had different
rankings?

3. How does Akaky's ghost treat ranking in "The Overcoat?" Do you think he cares about
rank anymore? Why or why not? What effect does the ghost have on the prominent
personage?

Chew on This

Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

Ranks are the most important thing in "The Overcoat."

Ranks cause more trouble than they are worth in "The Overcoat."

THE OVERCOAT THEME OF DISSATISFACTION

We can't get no satisfaction. In most Western societies, dissatisfaction is a good thing. Except,
rather than calling it dissatisfaction, we call it ambition. In "The Overcoat," however, ambition
isn't all it's cracked up to be. All around Akaky, other officials jostle with one another for higher
ranks. He's the only one who is fine with his low status, but everyone looks down on him
because of it. It's not until later that we realize he's the only person who's actually happy in the
story, but that all changes when he becomes like everyone else. So in the world of "The
Overcoat," there are two choices: be happy, poor, and disrespected, or be unhappy, rich, and
powerful.

Questions About Dissatisfaction

6
 1. Dissatisfaction takes many forms in "The Overcoat." Find all of the different terms and
moments that are synonymous with dissatisfaction. Are they generally more positive
or negative?

2. Why do you think that Akaky was so content in the first part of "The Overcoat"? Why
do other people make fun of him because of it?

3. By the end of "The Overcoat," is the prominent personage satisfied or dissatisfied?

Why?

Chew on This

Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

Ambition is a positive trait in "The Overcoat."

Akaky is the only person who's ever content in "The Overcoat."

THE OVERCOAT THEME OF ISOLATION

One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do. It's no fun to be alone and have no friends. Or
at least that's what most of us think. Akaky, on the other hand, would probably think otherwise.
When he's alone, he's perfectly content and his life has no problems. It's only when he starts
becoming popular because of his new overcoat that everything changes. Even though he has
new friends, they aren't very genuine because they are only interested in his stuff. In "The
Overcoat," Gogol reminds us that sometimes it's better to be alone than to have fake friends.

Questions About Isolation

1. How do you think Akaky feels about his isolation? Does he enjoy it, or does he dislike
it? Give examples.

2. What are the different ways that the other characters in "The Overcoat" isolate Akaky?
What methods do they use? Do they ever feel remorseful? Why or why not?

3. Are there other characters in "The Overcoat" that are also isolated from others? If so,
which characters? How are they isolated?

Chew on This

Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

Akaky is the most isolated character in "The Overcoat."

All of the characters in "The Overcoat" are isolated from one another in some way.

7
THE OVERCOAT THEME OF THE SUPERNATURAL

Ghosts are scary. Everyone knows that. But why are ghosts scary, especially ones with a
relatively harmless appetite for coats? Even though Akaky the Ghost obviously isn't out to kill
anybody, everyone freaks out about him anywaybut why? Seriously, how terrifying can a
ghost be when all it does is take your coat? The chilling part of Akaky's ghost isn't that he
might take your coat, it's that he doesn't care about a person's rank; he treats them all equally.
And in a society that is obsessed with the social hierarchy, the idea of an equal-opportunity
haunting is a very frightening thing indeed.

Questions About The Supernatural

1. Why does Akaky come back from the grave in "The Overcoat?" Does he achieve what
he wanted to achieve?

2. What are the differences between living Akaky and ghost Akaky? Why do you think he
changes? Which form is better according to the world of "The Overcoat?"

3. Is the ghost at the end of "The Overcoat" Akaky? If not, who is it? Why does the
narrator mention this incident?

Chew on This

Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

The only way for characters in "The Overcoat" to escape the social hierarchy is to become
ghosts.

The ghosts in "The Overcoat" are mostly there for laughs.

THE OVERCOAT POLITICS QUOTES

How we cite our quotes: (Paragraph)

Quote #1

In the department of But it is better not to name the department. There is

nothing more irritable than all kinds of departments, regiments, courts of
justice and, in a word, every branch of public service. (1)

How would the story be different if the narrator named the specific department? Why do
you think he feels this way about public service branches?

8
Quote #2

As for his rankfor with us the rank must be stated first of allhe was what is
called a perpetual titular councilor, over which, as is well known, some writers
make merry and crack their jokes, as they have the praiseworthy custom of
attacking those who cannot bite back. (2)

Normally officials rise through the ranks, but Akaky is a perpetual titular councilor. Titular
councilors and all the ranks below them are called the same thing, your nobleness. In
order to be really special, Akaky would have to rise above his rank. Then he'd be called
something like your high nobleness, or even Your Excellency.

Quote #3

If his pay had been in proportion to his zeal, he would, perhaps, to his own
surprise, have been made even a councilor of state. (10)

A councilor of state? That's a whole four ranks above Akaky. If zeal and doing well at your
job are not what get you promoted, what does?

Petrovich seated on a large, unpainted table, with his legs tucked under him
like a Turkish pasha. (23)

Even though Petrovich is one of the few characters who is an official, the narrator still
describes him to us in terms of ranking. A Turkish Pasha is something like a British Lord.

Quote #5

When he told the matter, she clasped her hands, and said that he must go
straight to the superintendent, for the captain would turn up his nose,
promise well, and drop the matter there: the very best thing to do, would be
to go to the superintendent [...] (82)

Since we already know that the hierarchy is pretty strict, how do you think this plan is
going to go? We don't have a good feeling about it.

9
Quote #6

"But, your excellency," said Akaky Akakievich, trying to collect his small
handful of wits, and conscious at the same time that he was perspiring terribly,
"I, your excellency, presumed to trouble you because secretaries that... are an
untrustworthy race." ... (94)

Poor Akaky, he doesn't even know what to say. But it's interesting that even though he's
such a low-ranking official, he still looks down on secretaries. Also notice that he calls
them a race instead of a rank or an occupation, as if being a secretary is biological or
something.

"Do you know to whom you speak? Do you realize who stands before you?
Do you realize it? Do you realize it? I ask you!" (95)

Here the prominent person is yelling at Akaky for even daring to talk to him. We like to
call this his diva moment.

Quote #8

Constant complaints poured in from all quarters, that the backs and shoulders,
not only of titular but even of court councilors, were entirely exposed to the
danger of a cold, on account of the frequent dragging off of their coats. (105)

It's normal for bad things happen to people of low rank, but now it's even happening to
higher-ranking officials. Shock! Gasp! The horror!

Quote #9

Wishing to divert his mind in some way, and forget the disagreeable
impression, he set out that evening for one of his friends' houses, where he
found quite a large party assembled; and, what was better, nearly every one
was of the same rank, so that he need not feel in the least constrained. (108)

10
 Why do you think the prominent personage feels constrained when he's around people
of a different rank? Do you think he feels more constrained by being around people with
lower ranks or higher ranks?

This occurrence made a deep impression upon him. He even began to say
less frequently to the under-officials, "How dare you? Do you realize who
stands before you?" and, if he did utter the words, it was after first having
learned the bearings of the matter. (115)

Akaky has performed a miracle. Despite all the rules and regulations about how different
ranks of officers should interact with one another, Akaky has managed to get the
prominent person to change his ways. All it took was a little supernatural revenge.

THE OVERCOAT DISSATISFACTION QUOTES

Quote #1

It would be difficult to find another man who lived so entirely for his duties. It
is saying but little to say that he served with zeal: no, he served with love. (10)

What's this quote doing in the section on dissatisfaction? Well, in order to understand
dissatisfaction in this story you have to start with Akaky's satisfaction. This guy isn't just
content with his job. He loves it.

Quote #2

One director being a kindly man, and desirous of rewarding him for his long
service, ordered him to be given something more important than mere
copying; namely, he was ordered to make a report of an already concluded
affair, to another court: the matter consisted simply in changing the heading,
and altering a few words from the first to the third person. This caused him so
much toil, that he was all in a perspiration, rubbed his forehead, and finally
said, "No, give me rather something to copy." After that they let him copy on
forever. (11)

Another word for dissatisfaction could be ambition. This quote makes it clear that Akaky
has no ambition at all, and would rather continue copying for the rest of his life.

11
Quote #3

To tell the truth, it was a little hard for him at first to accustom himself to these
deprivations; but he got used to them at length, after a fashion, and all went
smoothlyhe even got used to being hungry in the evening; but he made up
for it by treating himself in spirit, bearing ever in mind the thought of his
future coat. From that time forth, his existence seemed to become, in some
way, fuller, as if he were married, as if some other man lived in him, as if he
were not alone, and some charming friend had consented to go along life's
path with himand the friend was no other than that overcoat, with thick
wadding and a strong lining incapable of wearing out. (57)

Akaky's in love with his coat. You've gotta admit, that's kind of creepy. More importantly,
notice that he's dreaming about something that he doesn't have. That right there is the
beginning of dissatisfaction.

Fire gleamed in his eyes: occasionally, the boldest and most daring ideas
flitted through his mind; why not, in fact, have marten fur on the collar? The
thought of this nearly made him absent-minded. Once, in copying a letter, he
nearly made a mistake, so that he exclaimed almost aloud, "Ugh!" and
crossed himself. (58)

What effects does his newfound dissatisfaction have on Akaky? Are they portrayed as
negative or positive? Notice that he doesn't just aim for a new coat, but he starts aiming
for the fanciest of coats.

Quote #5

Once in the course of each month, he had a conference with Petrovich on the
subject of the coatwhere it would be better to buy the cloth, and the color,
and the priceand he always returned home satisfied, though troubled,
reflecting that the time would come at last when it could all be bought, and
then the overcoat could be made. (58)

Some people say the best part of desiring something is the anticipation of getting what it
is you want. No physical object can live up to the dreams that you have for it in your mind.

12
 That's probably why you dream about eating a gallon of ice cream even though it will just
make you sick.

Quote #6

It wasit is difficult to say precisely on what day, but it was probably the most
glorious day in Akaky Akakievich's life, when Petrovich at length brought
home the coat. (63)

Just for comparison, remember that other people normally say that either their wedding
or the birth of their child is the best day of their lives. The best day of Akaky's life is
getting a coat.

He returned home in the most happy frame of mind, threw off his coat, and
hung it carefully on the wall, admiring afresh the cloth and the lining; and
then he brought out his old, worn-out coat, for comparison. He looked at it,
and laughed, so vast was the difference. And long after dinner he laughed
again when the condition of the "mantle" recurred to his mind. (69)

We are going to guess that this is the kind of laugh grown-ups do when they look at
pictures of themselves as teenagers and realized how horribly they were dressed. It's kind
of like a "Thank goodness I don't suck that much now" laugh.

Quote #8

He halted out of curiosity before the lighted window of a shop, to look at a

picture representing a handsome woman, who had thrown off her shoe,
thereby baring her whole foot in a very pretty way; and behind her the head
of a man with side- whiskers and a handsome mustache peeped from the
door of another room. Akaky Akakievich shook his head, and laughed, and
then went on his way. Why did he laugh? Because he had met with a thing
utterly unknown, but for which every one cherishes, nevertheless, some sort
of feeling; or else he thought, like many officials, as follows: "Well, those
French! What is to be said? If they like anything of that sort, then, in fact,
that" ... But possibly he did not think that. For it is impossible to enter a man's
mind, and know all that he thinks. (72)

13
 When Akaky goes out to the party in the fancy part of town, he makes a different kind of
laugh. He laughs because he sees something that he barely even understands, but he still
wants it, even though he wouldn't dare admit it. Those are some complicated desires that
he's starting to experience, and he's only had the coat for one day.

Isolation

Quote #9

"But of course the coat is mine!" said one of them in a loud voice, seizing hold
of the collar. Akaky Akakievich was about to shout for the watch, when the
second man thrust a fist into his mouth, about the size of an official's head,
muttering, "Now scream!" (79)

Imagine that you have been dreaming about getting a new coat for months. Imagine that
it is as important to you as getting married or having a baby. Now imagine that someone
steals your coat after you have only worn it for one day. Can you guess how Akaky feels?

[...] he fancied that he was standing before the general, listening to a

thorough setting-down, and saying, "Forgive, your excellency!" but at last he
began to curse, uttering the most horrible words, so that his aged landlady
crossed herself, never in her life having heard anything of the kind from him
the more so, as those words followed directly after the words your
excellency. Later he talked utter nonsense, of which nothing could be
understood: all that was evident, was that his incoherent words and thoughts
hovered ever about one thinghis coat. (99)

Akaky's death seems to tell us that desire (also known as dissatisfaction) leads to death. If
he had been satisfied, none of this would have happened, and his personality wouldn't
have warped to the point where he curses out high-ranking officials.

No respect was shown him in the department. The janitor not only did not rise
from his seat when he passed, but never even glanced at him, as if only a fly
had flown through the reception-room. (6)

In the eyes of his coworkers Akaky is not even human. He's as insignificant as a fly.

14
Quote #2

Some unseen force repelled him from the comrades whose acquaintance he
had made, on the supposition that they were well-bred and polite men. And
long afterwards, in his gayest moments, there came to his mind the little
official with the bald forehead, with the heart-rending words, "Leave me alone!
Why do you insult me?" And in these penetrating words, other words
resounded"I am thy brother." (9)

This is one of the few moments in the story that the narrator basically gives us a moral
lesson. Even though he's low ranking, Akaky is still a human who deserves love and
respect.

Quote #3

No one could ever say that he had seen him at any sort of an evening party.
(16)

Not only is Akaky treated as if he's not human, but he's excluded from the social life of his
office. It's just him, his ink, pen, and papers, night after night. Not a great party. Unless
you ask Akaky.

All thisthe noise, talk, and throng of peoplewas rather wonderful to

Akaky Akakievich. He simply did not know where he stood, or where to put
his hands, his feet, and his whole body. (74)

Akaky's coat is his golden ticket into social life. He finally gets to be part of a party, but
even then he's still not quite integrated into the social circle because he's so awkward.

Quote #5

Instead of directing his attention to the principal points of the matter, he

began to question Akaky Akakievich. Why did he return so late? Was he in the
habit of going, or had he been, to any disorderly house? So that Akaky
Akakievich got thoroughly confused, and left him without knowing whether
the affair of his overcoat was in proper train, or not. (84)

15
 Even though Akaky has gone to the superintendent for help after being robbed, the
superintendent treats Akaky with suspicion instead of actually investigating the crime.
What does he assume about Akaky? What does that tell you about how effective the
Russian bureaucracy was at this point in time?

Quote #6

The news of the robbery of the coat touched many; although there were
officials present who never omitted an opportunity, even the present, to
ridicule Akaky Akakievich. They decided to take up a collection for him on the
spot, but it turned out a mere trifle; for the officials had already spent a great
deal in subscribing for the director's portrait, and for some book, at the
suggestion of the head of that division, who was a friend of the author: and so
the sum was trifling. (85)

Notice that without the coat, Akaky's life at the office is back to business as usual. They
ignore him, make fun of him, and don't do anything to help him.

The prominent personage was in his cabinet, conversing very, very gayly with
a recently arrived old acquaintance and companion of his childhood, whom
he had not seen for several years. At such a time it was announced to him
that a person named Bashmachkin had come. He asked abruptly, "Who is
he?" "Some official," they told him. "Ah, he can wait! this is no time," said the
important man. It must be remarked here, that the important man lied
outrageously: he had said all he had to say to his friend long before; and the
conversation had been interspersed for some time with very long pauses,
during which they merely slapped each other on the leg, and said, "You think
so, Ivan Abramovich!" "Just so, Stepan Varlamovich!" Nevertheless, he
ordered that the official should wait, in order to show his frienda man who
had not been in the service for a long time, but had lived at home in the
countryhow long officials had to wait in his ante- room. (90)

Akaky isn't the only person who is isolated from others because of his rank. The
prominent personage cannot even be himself with his childhood friend because he's so
concerned about maintaining appearances. How sad is that?

16
Quote #8

To whom all this fell, God knows. I confess that the person who told this tale
took no interest in the matter. (100)

This line is kind of humorous because it reminds us that we are reading a story. It's also a
little absurd because someone has taken enough interest in Akaky to tell this story to the
narrator, and the narrator tells story to us, so obviously someone cared about him.

Quote #9

A being disappeared, and was hidden, who was protected by none, dear to
none, interesting to none, who never even attracted to himself the attention
of an observer of nature, who omits no opportunity of thrusting a pin through
a common fly, and examining it under the microscope[...] (100)

There's that fly again. Akaky is compared to fly, just like when we first met him, but this
time the comparison is a little different. Instead of being as insignificant as a fly, now
Akaky is even less significant than a fly.

But the horror of the important personage transcended all bounds when he
saw the dead man's mouth open, and, with a terrible odor of the grave, utter
the following remarks: "Ah, here you are at last! I have you, that ... by the
collar! I need your coat. You took no trouble about mine, but reprimanded
me; now give up your own. " (111)

Sometimes it's easy to think that Akaky is stupid and doesn't realize how other people
treat him, but here, his ghost lets us know that he knew it all along.

SUPERNATURAL

Akaky Akakievich went on in a happy frame of mind: he even started to run,

without knowing why, after some lady, who flew past like a flash of lightning,
and whose whole body was endowed with an extraordinary amount of
movement. But he stopped short, and went on very quietly as before,
wondering whence he had got that gait. (77)

17
 This is the first hint the narrator gives us that the story will soon become much more than
a tale of the ordinary, if unfortunate, life of a low-ranking official.

Quote #2

Visions incessantly appeared to him, each stranger than the other: now he
saw Petrovich, and ordered him to make a coat, with some traps for robbers,
who seemed to him to be always under the bed; and he cried, every moment,
to the landlady to pull one robber from under his coverlet: then he inquired
why his old "mantle" hung before him when he had a new overcoat[...] (99)

Why do you think that Akaky has these visions? How does this foreshadow the rest of the
story? How do you think Akaky wished the story had gone?

Quote #3

But who could have imagined that this was not the end of Akaky Akakievich
that he was destined to raise a commotion after death, as if in
compensation for his utterly insignificant life? But so it happened, and our
poor story unexpectedly gains a fantastic ending. (102)

We wouldn't have guessed. Did you? Do you think that Gogol intended to surprise us?

A rumor suddenly spread throughout Petersburg that a dead man had taken
to appearing on the Kalinkin Bridge, and far beyond, at night, in the form of
an official seeking a stolen coat, and that, under the pretext of its being the
stolen coat, he dragged every one's coat from his shoulders without regard to
rank or callingcatskin, beaver, wadded, fox, bear, raccoon coats; in a
word, every sort of fur and skin which men adopted. (103)

This ghost is none other than Akaky Akakievich himself. It's interesting that in order for
Akaky to be freed of the restraints of social status, he had to completely leave the world
of the living. Does that mean that it's impossible for humans to not have social status?
What does it mean that not having social status means that you're as good as dead?

18
Quote #5

One of the department employees saw the dead man with his own eyes, and
immediately recognized in him Akaky Akakievich: nevertheless, this inspired
him with such terror, that he started to run with all his might, and therefore
could not examine thoroughly, and only saw how the latter threatened him
from afar with his finger. (105)

Notice that the narrator says "nevertheless." Why nevertheless? Well, in real life no one
would ever be afraid of Akaky. But when he's a ghost, he's terrifying. When you're a ghost
it doesn't matter if you were low-ranking during your time on earth, you can wield power
just like certain prominent personages.

Quote #6

But we have totally neglected that certain prominent personage, who may
really be considered as the cause of the fantastic turn taken by this true
history. (107)

Why is the prominent personage the cause of Akaky turning into a ghost? Are there
other reasons to explain it?

But the horror of the important personage transcended all bounds when he
saw the dead man's mouth open, and, with a terrible odor of the grave, utter
the following remarks: "Ah, here you are at last! I have you, that ... by the
collar! I need your coat. You took no trouble about mine, but reprimanded
me; now give up your own. " (111)

When we read this sentence, we were struck by the words "with a terrible odor of the
grave." We imagined the stench and how terrifying it must have been to have this
decomposing corpse talking to you. If it weren't for this moment, it would be easy to
imagine Akaky's ghost as a guy wearing a white sheet, but this takes it to Thriller-level
scariness.

19
Quote #8

Brave as he was in the office and in the presence of inferiors generally, and
although, at the sight of his manly form and appearance, every one said, "Ugh!
how much character he has!" yet at this crisis, he, like many possessed of an
heroic exterior, experienced such terror, that, not without cause, he began to
fear an attack of illness. (112)

We know you're probably tired of us saying how Akaky's ghost messes with the social
order, but it's kind of important. The prominent personage is a brave person when he's
operating within his strict social hierarchy, but Akaky's ghost is completely outside of that
system. So his reaction? Pee his pants.

Quote #9

But the most noteworthy point was, that from that day the apparition of the
dead official quite ceased to be seen; evidently the general's overcoat just
fitted his shoulders; at all events, no more instances of his dragging coats
from people's shoulders were heard of. (115)

This is what happens after Akaky takes the prominent personage's coat. He was
searching for something, and now he's got it. But what else might Akaky's ghost have
wanted? Besides a coat, of course.

And, in fact, one watchman in Kolomna saw with his own eyes the apparition
come from behind a house; [...] he dared not arrest him, but followed him in
the dark, until, at length, the apparition looked round, paused, and inquired,
"What do you want?" and showed such a fist as you never see on living men.
The watchman said, "It's of no consequence," and turned back instantly. But
the apparition was much too tall, wore huge mustaches, and, directing its
steps apparently towards the Obukhoff Bridge, disappeared in the darkness
of the night. (116)

Just in case you thought you had the story all figured out, here's a nice little curveball.
Quick, someone call M. Night Shyamalan.

Character Analysis

20
A Nobody

Akaky Akakievich Bashmachkin might just be the most insignificant and mocked protagonist in
literary history. Sure, there are lots of other protagonists who start out as losers, but most of
those guys transform into the heroes before they die. Not Akaky. Akaky is a loser through and
through.

He's ugly, old, poor, and he can't even muster up enough courage to finish his sentences
when he's talking to people. Talk about awkward. Most importantly, he is a low-ranking official.
That means no one gives him any respect, despite the fact he is strangely, though admirably,
dedicated to his job.

That Name

You might have noticed that Akaky has a pretty strange name. In certain translations, it's even
spelled with two i's (Akakii), making it look that much weirder. The narrator tells us that Akaky
got his name because it was the least ridiculous of the names that his godparents suggested
to his mother when he was born. We guess godparents must have had a pretty big say in
naming babies in Russia back then, because why else would any parent in their right mind
choose a name like Akaky?

There are a couple of theories surrounding Akaky's name, but the first one will probably be the
easiest to understand. Say his full name out loud. We'll wait.

Done? Did you notice anything?

All of the "K" and "ak" sounds make it pretty funny to say, don't they? So on one level, Gogol
probably just thought his name sounded funny. Oh, and sounding just like kaka (poop) is an
added plus.

The two other theories are a bit more complex. One suggests that Akaky's name is a reference
to St. Acacius, a priest who was famous for living as simply as Akaky does. We kind of guess
that would be an obscure reference. The other theory is that the name comes from the Greek
akakia, which means innocent, simple, and gentle. That sure sounds like Akaky, doesn't it?

In short stories the author often has to convey a lot of information very quickly, and Gogol
does some pretty heavy lifting through Akaky's name. He lets us know that Akaky is kind of
ridiculous, and makes fun of him in the same breath that he is (possibly) compared to a saint.
That's a great set up for understanding Akaky's role in the rest of the story. Even though he's
lame, we can't help but think that he's the most moral character in the whole story.

Timeless

21
You know what doesn't change? Dead things. And Akaky. For much of the story Akaky doesn't
change a bit. According to his coworkers, he never went through puberty; he was born a
fully-grown adult. The narrator says:

However much the directors and chiefs of all kinds were changed, he was always to be seen in
the same place, the same attitude, the same occupationthe same official for letters; so that
afterwards it was affirmed that he had been born in undress uniform with a bald spot on his
head. (5)

While everyone around him changes and grows up, Akaky remains the same. It's kind of
creepy.

Someone might say that this is because he has no friends and no one cares about him, but
they'd be wrong. When he is given an opportunity to change, Akaky refuses. The narrator tells
us:

One director being a kindly man, and desirous of rewarding him for his long service, ordered
him to be given something more important than mere copying [...] This caused him so much
toil, that he was all in a perspiration, rubbed his forehead, and finally said, "No, give me rather
something to copy." After that they let him copy on forever. (11)

See? Some people do like him. But Akaky has no ambitions for anything in life. He just wants
to keep doing what he's always been doing.

So what? Well, a couple of things. People who don't want to change are content, and at this
stage in the story Akaky is content with his lot in life. And remember how we said that dead
things don't change? Well, Akaky is so static, unemotional, and unremarkable that we wouldn't
be surprised if someone compared him to a ghost. Luckily for us, we get to see Akaky become
a ghost later in the story. What is Akaky like when he's a ghost? How does Akaky's static nature
in the world of the living contrast with what happens once he dies? Keep these questions in
mind when you think about these next two sections.

Coat Fetishist

With how excited he gets over this coat, you would almost think that Akaky is a fashionista or
something like that. This guy doesn't get excited about anything, so what's the deal with this
coat?

First of all, let's look at his old coat. It's so threadbare and worn that his coworkers don't even
call it a "coat." They refer to it as a "hood." On top of that, Akaky doesn't take very good care
of it. The narrator says:

22
He thought not at all of his clothes: his undress uniform was not green, but a sort of
rusty-meal color. [...] And something was always sticking to his uniformeither a piece of hay
or some trifle. Moreover, he had a peculiar knack, as he walked in the street, of arriving
beneath a window when all sorts of rubbish was being flung out of it: hence he always bore
about on his hat melon and watermelon rinds, and other such stuff. (12)

Unless wearing trash in your hat is new "in" thing, Akakki doesn't sound like someone who
cares about his looks. That sounds like someone who could care less what people think about
his clothing, since he doesn't care either.

That all changes when the coat arrives. Even when he's just making the plans with Petrovich,
Akaky's personality is already changing. We see it happen right before our eyes: "'A hundred
and fifty rubles for an overcoat!' shrieked poor Akaky Akakievichshrieked perhaps for the
first time in his life, for his voice had always been distinguished for its softness" (44). That's just
the first sign of what's to come. Bit by bit, he changes from a static, meek official to someone
who actually seems to have normal wants and desires.

When he finally gets the coat, Akaky comes alive. It's easy to miss this line, but the narrator
tells us: "His heart, generally so quiet, began to beat" (60). In other words, before Akaky's heart
did not beat and he was dead. The coat made him a real living person. That's not the only
change that happens to our unfortunately named protagonist. Suddenly he cares about his
fashion, and relishes in every opportunity to show off his new coat. He even (gasp!) goes to a
party with other people and kind of likes it. If only everyone's life could be so radically changed
by a new coat.

But there's also a weird side to all of this self-improvement. We think that Akaky might be in
love with his new coat. Now, before you call us crazy, hear us out think about how Akaky feels
about his coat:

From that time forth, his existence seemed to become, in some way, fuller, as if he were
married, as if some other man lived in him, as if he were not alone, and some charming friend
had consented to go along life's path with himand the friend was no other than that
overcoat, with thick wadding and a strong lining incapable of wearing out. (57)

As if he were married? A charming friend? That's the way most people would feel about their
spouse, but Akaky feels it about his coat.

And it's not just that Akaky has a weird attachment to his coat. Didn't seem strange to you that
he has no interest in women until after he gets the coat? On the way to the party he stares at
an advertisement showing a beautiful woman, and on the way back, he chases after a woman
on the street. That sounds an awful lot like someone who has love on the brain. His coat makes

23
him feel this way because it is the first thing that has brought change into his life. He's not a
dead office drone living the same humdrum life anymore. He an important guy with a new
overcoat.

For Akaky, love, change, desire, and advancement are all wrapped up in the image of his coat.
It could have been a lady, it could have been a pet, but Akaky falls in love with his overcoat.
And we all know the bad things happen when you separate a man with the thing he loves.

Akaky, the Un-friendly Ghost

This guy is a real protagonist. He's got a goal, he's got emotions, and he makes things happen.
All Akaky had to do in order to come alive was die.

The transformation that began when Akaky ordered his coat is completed in his death. He
becomes someone who is almost unrecognizable. Before his death, one of Akaky's most
notable traits is his stuttering speech, but he suddenly sounds quite different while on his
deathbed:

[...] he fancied that he was standing before the general, listening to a thorough setting-down,
and saying, "Forgive, your excellency!" but at last he began to curse, uttering the most horrible
words, so that his aged landlady crossed herself, never in her life having heard anything of the
kind from him the more so, as those words followed directly after the words your
excellency. (99)

That's the same guy who fainted when somebody yelled at him a little too much. But wait, he
still not dead yet.

Everything changes when Akaky becomes a ghost. He means business. The narrator says:

A rumor suddenly spread throughout Petersburg that a dead man had taken to appearing on
the Kalinkin Bridge, and far beyond, at night, in the form of an official seeking a stolen coat,
and that, under the pretext of its being the stolen coat, he dragged every one's coat from his
shoulders without regard to rank or callingcatskin, beaver, wadded, fox, bear, raccoon
coats; in a word, every sort of fur and skin which men adopted. (103)

Akaky isn't scared of high-ranking officials anymore. In fact, he doesn't seem to be scared of
anyone. He doesn't care if you are high-ranking, low-ranking, or in between. He's just angry.
Now it's everyone else who's afraid of him.

Could you have imagined the meek and mild-mannered Akaky from the beginning of the
story stealing people's coats? We don't think so. For Akaky, the love that he had for his
overcoat changed him from a mostly content and simple man into a vengeful spirit. Funnily

24
enough, he seems more alive in death than he ever was before. As Alanis Morissette once
said Isn't it ironic?

We're not sure if Gogol meant for Akaky's transformation to be a good thing or a bad thing.
We want him to get revenge, but we also might feel like his living existence, though ghost-like,
was much more peaceful, happy, and content.

What do you think this transformation means? Is Akaky rejuvenated by the coat and reborn
into a true hero in the afterlife? Or is his content and simple life twisted and destroyed by the
coat, turning him into a vengeful wraith in death?

Either way, we know one thing. That guy sure did love his coat.

AKAKY AKAKIEVICH BASHMACHKIN TIMELINE AND SUMMARY

Akaky is born sometime long ago in St. Petersburg to a mother who is really bad at
choosing names. He knows from birth that he is going to be a low-ranking official.
Dream big.
One day Akaky realizes that his coat is getting worn out and he takes it to Petrovich,
the tailor.
Akaky hopes that Petrovich can just patch his coat and so he can get on with his life,
but Petrovich insists that he needs a brand-new coat.
When Akaky finally gives in to Petrovich, he becomes infatuated with the idea of his
new coat.
The day the coat arrives is the best day of Akaky's life. He shows off the coat and
everyone at his job invites him to a party in honor of his swanky new threads.
The party is off the chain, but Akaky is more of a wallflower. He gets awkward and
leaves at midnight, even though the party is just getting started.
On the way back home, Akaky gets mugged. They take his prized possession: the
coat.
Akaky tries to get help finding his coat, but he has no luck. Finally he goes to the
prominent personage and is so disheartened that he walks home without wearing any
coat at all.
Walking home in St. Petersburg without a coat is a bad idea, and Akaky develops an
illness that kills him in two days.
Akaky the Un-Friendly Ghost terrorizes the town by pulling off everyone's coats.
When he finally pulls off the coat that belongs to the prominent personage, Akaky is
satisfied. We never see his ghost again.

25
GRIGORII PETROVICH, THE TAILOR

Character Analysis

The Devil Himself

Did you ever notice how many times the devil is referenced when the narrator is talking about
Petrovich? Go back and check. It's kinda suspicious isn't it? Those references aren't just there
for fun; they're trying to tell us something: Petrovich is the devil.

If you were wondering why the only other named character in this story is the insignificant
tailor, there's your answer. He's not just a tailor, but also the devil that is attempting to lure
Akaky over to the dark side. Just like Darth Vader.

The signs are everywhere, but some of them are old-school and you might not notice them
without some help. Back in the day, the devil was always characterized as having one eye, a
tough toenail, and was often faceless. Petrovich also has one eye, a tough toenail, and he
happens to have a snuffbox where the general has no face.

That's not even to mention that when we first meet him, he is shrouded in smoke. Hell fires,
perhaps? Plus he engages in unchristian activities. The narrator says: "[He] began to drink
heavily on all holidays, at first on the great ones, and then on all church festivals without
discrimination, wherever a cross stood in the calendar" (20). Good Christians don't drink on the
Sabbath, and especially not on high holy days. Petrovich, on the other hand, only drinks on
those days.

Then of course, there are the times when the narrator almost straight-up tells us that he's
Satan. For example: "Petrovich was in a sober condition, and therefore rough, taciturn, and
inclined to demand, Satan only knows what price" (25). There is also this moment: "Petrovich's
eye was very much askew, in fact, after Saturday: his head drooped, and he was very sleepy;
but for all that, as soon as he knew what the question was, it seemed as though Satan jogged
his memory" (52). There are many more moments, and we could quote them here but we
think that you get the point. We hope that you're convinced, because that's important for the
next point.

Tempter

Petrovich being Satan is only relevant because he tempts Akaky. Before going to Petrovich,
Akaky is totally content with his life. He doesn't mind that he's poor, he doesn't mind that
people make fun of him, and he doesn't even mind that people throw their trash on him. Not

26
only that, but he loves his job, is really good at it, and isn't mean to anyone. If you think about
it that way, Akaky is actually pretty decent and easygoing guy.

But Petrovich disrupts all that. Once he convinces Akaky that he needs a new coat, the lowly
official starts to change. He's not content anymore. He's not dedicated to his job, and even
starts making mistakes. In the end he's transformed into a vengeful spirit. That's basically the
opposite of what he used to be.

Petrovich's path is the path to the dark side. Yoda would have told Akaky, "If once you start
down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny, consume you it will." Instead of
freaking out about his lost coat, he should have learned what Yoda tells his Jedi in training:

"Attachment leads to jealousy. The shadow of greed, that is. Train yourself to let go of
everything you fear to lose."

A CERTAIN PROMINENT PERSONAGE

Character Analysis

The Jerkwad (ASSHOLE)

First and foremost, the prominent personage is a jerkwad. Not just a regular jerkwad, but a
grade-A, friend-scaring, old-man-killing, certified gigantic jerkwad. No one likes him, not even
his friends or coworkers. It's easy to see why, too, because he's simply downright mean.

Think about him this way: everything that Akaky isn't, the prominent personage is. Not even
the janitor notices when Akaky comes into the room, but everybody notices when the
prominent personage arrives. The narrator says:

But there was no necessity for this, for the half-score of officials who formed the entire force of
the mechanism of the office were properly afraid without it: on catching sight of him afar off,
they left their work, and waited, drawn up in line, until their chief had passed through the
room.(88)

Sure, they don't notice him for good reasons, but they notice him.

While Akaky couldn't care less what other people think about him, and even doesn't mind if
he's covered in trash, the prominent personage takes great pains to cultivate an image of
superiority. He'll even lie to get what he wants. The narrator tells us:

Nevertheless, he ordered that the official should wait, in order to show his frienda man who
had not been in the service for a long time, but had lived at home in the countryhow long
officials had to wait in his ante-room. (90)

27
Nothing says intimidation like making someone wait a long time for an appointment. Do you
think his friend was impressed? Or do you think he was just scared and confused?

In addition, we all know that Akaky speaks in a stammering whisper. The prominent personage,
on the other hand, is loud, forceful, and uses his speech to frighten people. He says:

"Do you know to whom you speak? Do you realize who stands before you? Do you realize it?
Do you realize it? I ask you!" Then he stamped his foot, and raised his voice to such a pitch that
it would have frightened even a different man from Akaky Akakievich. (95)

We really can't think of a lot of things that are more jerkwaddy than yelling at a poor man who
has lost his coat just because you want to impress your friend. Can you?

Flip Side of the Coin

Despite being a totally lame, self-obsessed loser, the prominent personage's personality is not
as cut and dry as it may seem. Think about it. Why would Gogol go through all the trouble to
make him such a well-matched foil for Akaky? Because he suffers from the same problems.

Akaky is a victim of the strict hierarchy in Russian bureaucracy at the time. His lack of power,
respect, and money shape his personality and make him a mild-mannered man. In the same
way, the prominent personage's behavior is determined by his high rank. It is just as difficult
for him to deal with all the power and respect that he is now expected to have.

When Akaky meets him, the prominent personage has just started at his new position. He's
not used to being prominent yet, and he's not sure what to do. The narrator says:

Otherwise he was a very kind-hearted man, good to his comrades, and ready to oblige; but
the rank of general threw him completely off his balance. On receiving that rank, he became
confused, as it were, lost his way, and never knew what to do. (89)

In different circumstances, this guy isn't a jerkwad. He's probably a nice normal guy whom you
could even depend on for a favor, but once his position changes and he starts dreaming of
more power, everything goes wrong.

The prominent personage's behavior is just an act to help him better his reputation as a
powerful man. Akaky doesn't have to pretend to be a low-ranking official, but we guess it's
more work to convince people that you're a big deal. So instead of acting normally and
decently, the prominent personage acted like this:

[He] strove to increase his importance by many devices; namely, he managed to have the
inferior officials meet him on the staircase when he entered upon his service: no one was to
presume to come directly to him, but the strictest etiquette must be observed; the 'Collegiate

28
Recorder' must announce to the government secretary, the government secretary to the
titular councilor, or whatever other man was proper, and the business came before him in this
manner.(87)

In order to express his power, he feels he must inconvenience and restrain other people, as if
power is measured by one's ability to inconvenience others and not feel inconvenienced
oneself.

Remorse and Redemption

Akaky must be the prominent personage's guardian angel. He saves the personage from
himself. Sure, Akaky might die from his devotion to his overcoat, but in death, he stops the
prominent personage from focusing on power and fame.

The prominent personage must have put down "Guide to Being a Powerful Jerkwad," because
when he realizes what he's done to Akaky, he actually cares that something that has happened
to a mere low-ranking official. The narrator says:

First of all, justice compels us to say, that after the departure of poor, thoroughly annihilated
Akaky Akakievich, he felt something like remorse. Suffering was unpleasant to him: his heart
was accessible to many good impulses, in spite of the fact that his rank very often prevented
his showing his true self. (107)

There's still a tiny amount of good hiding underneath that tough exterior, but the remorse is
only temporary and soon the permanent personage is back to his old tricks.

It takes something a little more extreme to set him right for good. Something like a visit from
beyond the grave. Akaky's ghost scares the living daylights out of the prominent personage
when he steals his coat. After this ghostly encounter, he decides to make a change. The
narrator says:

This occurrence made a deep impression upon him. He even began to say less frequently to
the under-officials, "How dare you? Do you realize who stands before you?" and, if he did utter
the words, it was after first having learned the bearings of the matter. (115)

It might not seem like much at first, but if we consider all the work he put into being a horrible
person, we realize this is a pretty big deal. Akaky's ghost and its thieving ways have turned this
guy's life around, and probably for the better.

SYMBOLISM, IMAGERY, ALLEGORY

Symbolism, Imagery, Allegory

29
From a Basic Human Need

Everyone needs to stay warm. It doesn't matter if you're a high-ranking official or if you're a
nobody like Akaky, the brutal North wind blowing through St. Petersburg in the winter will
freeze you to your bones. Literally. It will freeze you to death. We're not talking about a winter
in St. Petersburg, Florida here, people. In Russia, everyone needs an overcoat (Or does
overcoat need you?), just like they need food to eat and a place to sleep.

That's exactly how Akaky thinks about his overcoat. It's a basic part of human life, and not a
big deal. He doesn't even notice when people throw trash on it. His overcoat is ugly, baggy,
covered in patches, and barely holding together. But it does its job. It keeps him warm.

The trouble doesn't start until Akaky notices that it's not fulfilling his basic human needs any
more. It can't keep him warm. The narrator says:

He finally wondered whether the fault did not lie in his overcoat. He examined it thoroughly at
home, and discovered that in two places, namely, on the back and shoulders, it had become
thin as mosquito-netting: the cloth was worn to such a degree that he could see through it,
and the lining had fallen into pieces. (18)

Our overcoat is dunzo, kaput. Maybe the story would have ended here if Akaky had gotten a
simple overcoat, with only the purpose of keeping him warmbut that's not exactly what
happens.

To a Status Symbol

The new coat isn't just warm. It's stylish and fashionable. When Akaky wears it, he's no longer
ignorant of what he's wearing. Actually, "he was conscious every second of the time, that he
had a new overcoat on his shoulders; and several times he laughed with internal satisfaction"
(66). This new coat isn't just about what Akaky needs, it's about what he wants, hopes, and
dreams. That's why he's so gigglyand smitten.

But those aren't the only extra features this coat has. The splendor of his new coat allows
Akaky to enter the social circles of his coworkers. The narrator says:

It is impossible to say just how every one in the department knew at once that Akaky
Akakievich had a new coat, and that the "mantle" no longer existed. All rushed at the same
moment into the ante-room, to inspect Akaky Akakievich's new coat. (66)

With his new coat, Akaky, the guy who nobody ever noticed before, is suddenly the talk of the
town. They fawn over him and even throw a party in his honor.

30
For the first time in his life, Akaky has upward social mobility, and it's all because of the coat.
It's not all roses, though. Think about it this way: before the coat Akaky's social status was
secure; he couldn't sink any lower. But now that the overcoat has bumped him up to a new tier,
Akaky has something to lose. This whole new fabulous life, with friends and parties, only exists
because of the coat. So what would happen without it? Let's just say, it isn't a pretty picture.

Better to have Loved and Lost?

With his coat gone, Akaky plummets back down to the bottom of the social hierarchy. Only
now he's had a taste of what it's like to be seen as a little higher, and his return to the bottom
has left a bitter taste in his mouth.

The old Akaky is back. The narrator says: "All that day he never went near the court (for the
first time in his life). The next day he made his appearance, very pale, and in his old 'mantle,'
which had become even more shabby" (85). Once again, nobody seems to care about him,
and the same guys that wanted to party with him just a few days earlier make fun of him now.
Back in his old coat, Akaky is a nobody, and to make things worse, the prominent personage
puts him in his place by yelling at him.

But that's not the end of the story. Akaky isn't happy that he's returned to being the same
boring man that he once was. Now he's dissatisfied, and being dissatisfied can lead to some
pretty nasty things. The change in Akaky's personality isn't noticeable until he's on his
deathbed when all of the anger and resentment comes out. In his dreams "[...]he inquired why
his old 'mantle' hung before him when he had a new overcoat; then he fancied that he was
standing before the general, listening to a thorough setting-down, and saying, 'Forgive, your
excellency!' but at last he began to curse, uttering the most horrible words[...]" (99). Where did
Akaky even learn how to curse? He's gone overcoat crazy.

The final stage of Akaky's coat-driven transformation comes in his death. His personality as a
ghost is totally different than it was in life. Some people say that ghosts only come back to
haunt when a dead person has a strong desire for something unfulfilled in their human life. No
one would have guessed that Akaky would turn into a ghost before the overcoat; there was
simply nothing that he wanted. But now his desire for his overcoat, his desire for social status,
is so strong that it brings them back from the grave.

And this ghost is back with a vengeance and an appetite for coats. He drags the coats off of
everyone's shoulders, but it's not until he takes the prominent personage's coat that Akaky is
finally satisfied. The narrator says:

31
But the most noteworthy point was, that from that day the apparition of the dead official quite
ceased to be seen; evidently the general's overcoat just fitted his shoulders; at all events, no
more instances of his dragging coats from people's shoulders were heard of. (115)

Since the prominent personage becomes much more humble after having his coat stolen, one
could say that Akaky succeeded in taking his attachment to social status away from him. What
do you think the coat symbolizes? Why does it have to be the prominent personage's coat,
and not somebody else?

ANALYSIS: SETTING

Where It All Goes Down

It's Hard out There for a Bureaucrat

Nikolai Gogol grew up in hard times for Russia. When he was 17 years old in 1825, a group of
revolutionaries called the Decembrists (no, not the band) tried to overthrow the czarist regime.
Of course they were crushed, but the whole affair shook up the Russian populace. It also made
the next czar, Nicholas I, very strict. As a result he changed up the whole Russian bureaucracy.

Before we tell you how he changed it, you should know that it was already pretty complicated.
The bureaucracy was divided into three types of service: civil, military, and court. Then those
three types of service had 14 grades of officers, each with their own style of address. Peter the
Great conceived this whole thing in 1722, because what's a great government without a
complicated and circuitous bureaucracy?

To put that into context, rank one was the highest position you could get. The prominent
personage was probably rank six, seven, or eight. And Akaky? He's just a lowly titular councilor.
His rank didn't even have a number.

Following the Decembrist's failed coup, Czar Nicholas I gave the Russian bureaucracy a pretty
big makeover. He took the aristocracy out of the bureaucracy, causing all sorts of shifts in the
ranks, so by the time that Gogol applied for a job as a bureaucrat in 1828, the whole
bureaucracy was in a state of unrest. With all this awkward reorganization, the Russian
government didn't sound like a very fun place to work during this time, and we can see why
Gogol paints such a poor picture of Russian government officials in "The Overcoat."

Winter in St. Petersburg, Russia

Ah, St. Petersburg, the city established by Czar Peter the Great in an attempt to make
18th-century Russia more like Amsterdam. (Seriously.) As the imperial capital of Russia, the city

32
was teeming with officials just like Akaky, but that's not what Gogol tells us is important to the
story. Instead, it's the weather. The narrator says:

At the hour when the foreheads of even those who occupy exalted positions ache with the
cold, and tears start to their eyes, the poor titular councilors are sometimes unprotected. Their
only salvation lies in traversing as quickly as possible, in their thin little overcoats, five or six
streets, and then warming their feet well in the porter's room, and so thawing all their talents
and qualifications for official service, which had become frozen on the way. (17)

In other words, it's freezing!

The average temperature of St. Petersburg in the winter is 12F. In 1883 it even hit a record low
of -25.6F. No wonder Akaky got so sick when he went home without his coat. At those
temperatures he could literally freeze to death in the streets. In some other countries it might
be silly to write a whole story about a coat, but it's obvious that in St. Petersburg owning a
good overcoat is a big deal.

We're not in Nevsky Prospect Anymore, Toto

You'd think a story set in the capital of Russia would be full of the glitz and glamor of city life,
but Gogol is no F. Scott Fitzgerald. Remember, Akaky is a poor low-ranking official, and even
though he lives in the city, he can't take advantage of all the culture and shopping it has to
offer him.

Gogol made this clear to readers by contrasting the neighborhood Akaky lives in with the
neighborhood of the official who throws the party. The narrator says:

Akaky Akakievich was first obliged to traverse a sort of wilderness of deserted, dimly lighted
streets; but in proportion as he approached the official's quarter of the city, the streets became
more lively, more populous, and more brilliantly illuminated. (71)

It's almost like he's entering a different world, but it's just the nice part of town. We can tell
Akaky probably didn't get out of the house much.

Akaky's story points out that even in a regal city like St. Petersburg, there are poor people who
have very little. It's likely that if Akaky didn't live in such an impoverished part of town, he never
would have had his coat stolen in the first place. The juxtaposition is even more biting because
just down the street, people are spending money and having a good time without a single
thought for the little people like him.

ANALYSIS: NARRATOR POINT OF VIEW

33
Who is the narrator, can she or he read minds, and, more importantly, can we trust her or him?

First Person (Peripheral Narrator):

You might be tempted to think that this is a story told in the third person, but you have to look
carefully. Even though the narrator seems objective at times, there are moments that betray
him. For example: "Akaky Akakievich was born, if my memory fails me not, towards night on
the 23d of March" (4). Doesn't that sound like some guy you just met is trying to tell you a
story? A third person narrator doesn't have to check his memory and doesn't use words like "I"
or "my."

Now that we have that settled, let's talk about skaz. Skaz is a Russian term for an unreliable
narrator. The term skaz comes from the Russian word skazat, or "to tell," and it's a reference to
oral storytelling.

Unless you listened to it on tape, "The Overcoat" is clearly not an oral story, but the narrator
tells it as if it is. Whether we like it or not, the narrator goes into detail about completely
insignificant things. He makes jokes with us, and his storytelling sometimes gets off-track, just
like you'd expect if somebody were telling you about Akaky from memory. All of this gives the
narrator a distinct personality and adds comedy to the story.

Perhaps the easiest way to see the impact the narrator has on the story would be to imagine
what it would be like from another point of view. If "The Overcoat" were told from Akaky's
point of view, it would probably be much more boring, depressing, and cause us to totally
sympathize with him instead of laugh at him a little. If the story were told from the prominent
personage's perspective, we might have only had a paragraph about a strange old man
named Akaky in a pompous self-monologue of a story. Even if "The Overcoat" were written in
an objective third person, it would have been different because it would not have the comedic
asides and humorous omissions that our first person narrator inserts.

In other words, this perspective is important because it makes the story. If anyone else told it, it
wouldn't be "The Overcoat."

ANALYSIS: GENRE

Comedy, Parable, Satire, and Naturalism

If there's one thing that Gogol is known for, it's comedy (even though most of the time that
comedy turns into horror by the end of the story, like with Akaky's ghost, but it still counts).
Gogol's comedy often stems from his satirization of Russian culture. This story is no different.

34
From the very first line of the overcoat, Gogol lets us know how he feels about Russian
bureaucracy:

They say that, quite recently, a complaint was received from a justice of the peace, in which he
plainly demonstrated that all the imperial institutions were going to the dogs, and that his
sacred name was being taken in vain; and in proof he appended to the complaint a huge
volume of some romantic composition, in which the justice of the peace appears about once
in every ten lines, sometimes in a drunken condition. (1)

The point of a satire is to highlight the excesses, ills, and general ridiculousness of a culture.
Today we might satirize people's tendencies to obsess over their smartphones or social media
accounts, but in Gogol's day people were really caught up with the social hierarchy in
bureaucratic departments. If you ask us, we'd choose Facebook over that any day.

Gogol's dry humor is peppered throughout "The Overcoat," like at Akaky's baptism, where
"[...]they christened the child, whereat he wept, and made a grimace, as though he foresaw
that he was to be a titular councilor" (5). It's moments like this that make us laugh in the midst
of the otherwise rather bleak story.

Let's talk about Naturalism. It's a literary genre that grew out of realism, which was seriously
obsessed with depicting everyday situations as they really were, right down to the nitty-gritty
details. The difference? Naturalists felt that their characters were heavily influenced by outside
forces like social conditions, environment, and genetics. Naturalist stories also tend to be
pessimistic and have "objective" narrators.

You're probably pretty familiar with this style of writing, so it's nothing new to you. But think
about this: in Gogol's time the majority of Russian literature was poetry and the prose, far from
the realistic, dare we sayconversationaltone Gogol is known for. Gogol seemed positively
avant-garde with his (mostly) pessimistic story about a boring little clerk overwhelmed by
society's rules. His influence on the authors after him is so strong that he's probably the reason
Russian literature is known for being so pessimistic. Everyone from Dostoyevsky to Tolstoy just
hopped on Gogol's Naturalism train. These guys were definitely the original emo kids.

Last up, let's take a moment to examine "The Overcoat" as a parable. A parable is normally a
short and simple story meant to deliver some kind of life lesson. They often focus on a
character facing some kind of moral dilemma, follows them through the decision that they
make, and describes the consequences. Akaky is faced with a dilemma that doesn't seem
moral at first glance, but gets pretty deep pretty fast once you look further into the meaning of
the story. Akaky makes a decision, and that decision impacts everything else that happens in
the story. At least half of "The Overcoat" is just describing the fallout from Akaky's decision to
buy a new overcoat. The lesson here? Don't buy a new coat; or in other words, don't be

35
envious of high social ranking. And get used to freezing your butt off in the cold Russian
winter.

ANALYSIS: TONE

Take a story's temperature by studying its tone. Is it hopeful? Cynical? Snarky? Playful?

Prose; Simple, Rambling

Duh it's prose, we hear you say. Normally that might be the case, but Russian literature was
going through some interesting times when Gogol was writing. Before the 1830s the majority
of Russian literature was poetry, not prose (the stuff you find in novels), so it was pretty
revolutionary for him to write this way. Not only that, but he ended up being one of a group of
authors who actually pioneered what many people think of as Russian literature today. Pretty
impressive, if you ask us.

Russian literature is characterized by fairly simple, straightforward language. For example:

They began to congratulate him, and to say pleasant things to him, so that he began at first to
smile, and then he grew ashamed. (66)

We are going to guess that there are almost no words that you aren't familiar with. People
don't laude him or make susurrus in his ear. There's probably a reason for that. Akaky is a
simple man, and he can barely make sentences, let alone pronounce complex words. So the
writing style puts us in the mind frame of a simple guy just like him.

Oh, and one more thing. "The Overcoat" contains one of the most famous examples of the
periodic sentence. It's a writing style that emphasizes its point by putting the main idea at the
end of a long sentence full of subordinate clauses and modifiers. It's one of the rare times
where the writing style goes from being simple to being crazy complex. Here it is, in all its
long-winded glory:

Even at the hour when the gray Petersburg sky had quite disappeared, and all the world of
officials had eaten or dined, each as he could, in accordance with the salary he received, and
his own fancy; when all were resting from the departmental jar of pens, running to and fro,
their own and other people's indispensable occupations and all the work that an uneasy man
makes willingly for himself, rather than what is necessary; when officials hasten to dedicate to
pleasure the time that is left to them one bolder than the rest goes to the theater; another,
into the streets, devoting it to the inspection of some bonnets; one wastes his evening in
compliments to some pretty girl, the star of a small official circle; oneand this is the most
common case of allgoes to his comrades on the fourth or third floor, to two small rooms

36
with an ante-room or kitchen, and some pretensions to fashion, a lamp or some other trifle
which has cost many a sacrifice of dinner or excursionin a word, even at the hour when all
officials disperse among the contracted quarters of their friends, to play at whist, as they sip
their tea from glasses with a kopek's worth of sugar, draw smoke through long pipes, relating
at times some bits of gossip which a Russian man can never, under any circumstances, refrain
from, or even when there is nothing to say, recounting everlasting anecdotes about the
commandant whom they had sent to inform that the tail of the horse on the Falconet
Monument- had been cut offin a word, even when all strive to divert themselves, Akaky
Akakievich yielded to no diversion. (15)

Gogol tells us about everything the people of St. Petersburg do in such great detail, making
a huge sentence just to emphasize how Akaky doesn't do anything besides work in his free
time. When you see all of the fun that he could be having, it really hits home. The sentence
illustrates a bustling crowd of people and brings the city to life, but Akaky is still all alone at the
very end of the sentence. Not only is he isolated in life, but the very writing style of the story
repeats his isolation. Poor guy.

ANALYSIS: WHAT'S UP WITH THE TITLE?

"The Overcoat" (Shinel/)

Um. It's a story. About a guy with an overcoat. You knew that, right?

Seriously now, it might seem super obvious why Gogol named his story "The Overcoat." But
why didn't he name it "Akaky," or "The Prominent Personage," or even "The Ghost"? That's
because the coat is the most important thing in the whole story. Without the coat, we wouldn't
even have a story because Akaky would still be copying letters in blissful contentment.

The overcoat is what disrupts things. When his old coat falls apart, Akaky desires a new fancy
coat. His desires cause him to climb up the social ladder. And when his precious coat is taken
away from him, his desire to have it back is what leads to his downfall.

So yeah, it's a story about a guy with a coat. A really important coat.

ANALYSIS: WHAT'S UP WITH THE ENDING?

Let's take a minute to revisit the story's mysterious ending.

But many active and apprehensive persons could by no means reassure themselves, and
asserted that the dead official still showed himself in distant parts of the city. And, in fact, one
watchman in Kolomna saw with his own eyes the apparition come from behind a house; but
being rather weak of bodyso much so, that once upon a time an ordinary full-grown pig

37
running out of a private house knocked him off his legs, to the great amusement of the
surrounding public coachmen, from whom he demanded a groschen apiece for snuff, as
damagesbeing weak, he dared not arrest him, but followed him in the dark, until, at length,
the apparition looked round, paused, and inquired, "What do you want?" and showed such a
fist as you never see on living men. The watchman said, "It's of no consequence," and turned
back instantly. But the apparition was much too tall, wore huge mustaches, and, directing its
steps apparently towards the Obukhoff Bridge, disappeared in the darkness of the night. (116)

We'll be honest. We have no idea what's going on here, and neither do the majority of critics.
As far as we can tell, Gogol was just messing with us at this point. So we're just going to give
you some questions to think about.

What is up with the second ghost? Is that Akaky? Is it someone else? Is it the robber
who took his coat?
If the ghost is the robber, did a ghost rob Akaky? Or did this policeman think he saw a
ghost and it was just a guy?
Why is Gogol even telling us this? How does this affect our understanding of the story?
Is it supposed to bring some kind of closure?

ANALYSIS: TOUGH-O-METER

We've got your back. With the Tough-O-Meter, you'll know whether to bring extra layers or
Swiss army knives as you summit the literary mountain. (10 = Toughest)

Sea Level (2)

Come on guys; this was written so simply that even Akaky could understand it. Both the
language and the plot are fairly simple, even though Gogol does throw us a curveball at the
end. As with many older works, there might be some historical context that you miss, but we
don't think that it takes away from the meaning of this story. The revenge of the underdog is a
pretty easy concept to get.

ANALYSIS: PLOT ANALYSIS

Most good stories start with a fundamental list of ingredients: the initial situation, conflict,
complication, climax, suspense, denouement, and conclusion. Great writers sometimes shake
up the recipe and add some spice.

(Exposition) Initial Situation

A Certain Low-Ranking Official

38
We are introduced to a certain low-ranking official named Akaky Akakievich Bashmachkin. We
get to learn about how much Akaky loves his job, gets no respect, and has no friends. But
somehow, he's not sad. There's no conflict in this story yetwe're just getting to know our
main character.

Rising Action (Conflict, Complication)

It Costs How Much?

Then winter comes. Akaky's coat is worn down to little more than a pile of rags, and he freaks
out when he learns that he needs a new one. The only problem is that he's poor and the coat
costs twice his salary. That's conflict number one, and it's just the beginning dear Shmoopsters.
It's about to be a much bumpier ride from here on out.

Climax (Crisis, Turning Point)

Breaking News: Coat Theft on the Rise in St. Petersburg

Conflict number two comes when the coat is finally finished and everyone throws a party for
Akaky. Normally that wouldn't be a conflict, but fun, games, and friends make Akaky nervous
and breaks him out of his usual routine. The climax? Akaky's prized coat is stolen on his way
back from the party. Teach him to have a little fun.

Falling Action

Who's in Charge Here?

Should Akaky talk to the captain? The Superintendent? A certain prominent personage? The
hierarchy is so complex and convoluted that all of Akaky's attempts to get his coat back fail
miserably. It doesn't look like this will be a very happy ending.

Conclusion

Since when do Ghosts Wear Coats?

Akaky dies, but he's not done yet. His ghost roams the street looking for a coat to replace his.
When he finally gets it from the man who failed to help when he needed it most, his spirit
finally comes to rest and wraps up the conflict once and for all. Like they say, revenge is a dish
best served cold.

ANALYSIS: ALLUSIONS

39
When authors refer to other great works, people, and events, its usually not accidental. Put on
your super-sleuth hat and figure out why.

Historical References

The Falconet Monument (15)

The 1861 emancipation of Russian serfs (20)
German immigration into Russia (20)

THE OVERCOAT QUESTIONS

Bring on the tough stuff - theres not just one right answer.

1. Is there any way that Akaky could have avoided death in "The Overcoat"? What might
have happened if he never had his coat stolen? What if he never bought the coat at
all?

2. How would the story be different if it ended with Akaky's death? Many people say that
"The Overcoat" is one of the greatest short stories in Russian literature. Do you think
they would still say that?

3. Gogol's narrator speaks in an informal, oral storytelling style. What effect does it have
on your understanding of Akaky's tale? How would your experience of "The Overcoat"
be changed if the story were told in an objective, literary style instead?

4. When we meet the "prominent personage" in "The Overcoat," he has only recently
become prominent and his personality has changed dramatically. How do you think
he might have behaved before his promotion? Would he have been so mean to Akaky
then?

5. Based on Akaky's experience in "The Overcoat," what do you think it was like to have
been a low-ranking official in his time period? Do you think much has changed for
low-ranking people now?

THE NOSE INTRODUCTION

In A Nutshell

Sure, he ended his life burning parts of his most famous work and generally acting loony, but
hey, for a while there Gogolor Nikolai Vailievich Gogol, if you're feeling fancywas on quite
the roll. In 1835, he was still a reasonably fresh face in Russia (he was about 27), but dude had

40
already hit it out of the park with The Government Inspectora hilarious, satirical play making
fun of provincial bureaucrats.

Which, honestly, if you're going to make fun of some government thing, then "incompetent
bureaucrats" is totally the way to go. DMV jokes never get old, right?

Anyway, Gogol had big aspirations for his literary career, and, for once, life totally
delivered. "The Nose," which came out in 1836, established the type of writing he would
specialize in for the rest of his working life: funny satire with a surreal or supernatural twist.
How surreal? Check this out:

One day, a dude wakes up and finds his nose is no longer on his face. When he looks for it, he
finds that the nose is now leading its own life as a civil servant. Not only that, but it's actually
managed to get to a higher civil service rank than its original owner.

Reacting against all the froofy, poetic Romantic stuff that was all the rage in his day, Gogol
made up a whole new genrewhat would later be called magical realism. Basically, it's when
an author inserts a totally supernatural element into something that is otherwise completely
realistic.

The kicker? No one in the text is particularly surprised or frightened by this bit of magicit's
just part of daily life, so, meh. For some sublime variations on this technique, check out Gogol's
short story "The Overcoat" and his major classic, the novel "Dead Souls."

WHY SHOULD I CARE?

Some days you wake up and something just feels off, you know? Like you're not quite
yourself, or like you're not living the life you're supposed to be living, or like there's another
kind of you inside your body that wants to burst through your skin.

Ok, maybe not that last one so much. We're assuming Shmoop's werewolf readership is
actually quite low. (But still, stop chasing that sparkly vampire around already.)

Anyway, "The Nose" takes that out-of-body feeling that everyone's been through and just
literalizes the business out of out. You've felt like you could be a higher achiever? Well, this
dude's nose pops off his face and makes that ambition happen, baby.
Wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am: that nose accomplishes more in a day than its owner has in his
whole lifetimeand of course makes that owner feel pretty inconsequential and embarrassed
in the process.

And even cooler? Gogol's story is pretty much the granddaddy of the many, many stories that
play on this idea of a shared identity or a double that comes to take over another character's
life, usually in some really creepy way. Think Dostoevsky's "The Double," Stevenson's Dr. Jekyll

41
and Mr. Hyde, Kafka's Metamorphosis, all the way through Invasion of the Body Snatchers and
all the evil-twin subplots that pop up in comic books and sci fi.

THE NOSE SUMMARY

How It All Goes Down

One morning, a barber and his wife are munching on some breakfast when he finds a nose in
his bread roll. He recognizes the noseit belongs to one of his clients, Collegiate Assessor
Kovalev. Neither of them is particularly grossed out by this. Still, the barber's wife gets mad at
her husband's carelessness, drunkenness, and general crappiness, and she demands that he
take the nose away. After some misadventures in the streets, the barber ends up throwing it
away into the river.

That same day, Collegiate Assessor Kovalev wakes up and realizes that his nose is gone. He is
embarrassed about having to go outside like this and covers his face with a handkerchief.
Suddenly, on the street, he sees a highly decorated civil servant get out of a carriage and go
into a mansion, and is shocked to realizeit's his nose.

Kovalev follows the nose, but when he gets close enough to talk to him (it?), he gets all stressy
about speaking to someone so much higher ranking. The nose denies being his nose and goes
about its day like a total weirdo. Kovalev first tries to get the police involved and then tries to
put an announcement in the paper, but all he gets for his troubles is a lot of social
awkwardness and rudeness.

Finally, he decides that this is obviously the work of the mother of a girl he's been flirting with
but not actually proposing to. He gives up and goes home, but just then a policeman shows
up with the nose. Kovalev can't get the nose to stick on his face and a doctor he summons
refuses to help because the doctor is actually the nose in disguise, making its escape. Um,
okay?

Depressed, Kovalev writes an angry letter to the girl's mom, but she writes back that she has
no idea what he's talking about and is more than psyched for him to marry her daughter.
Meanwhile, the nose is making TMZ-style headlines wherever it goes.

Two weeks later, Kovalev wakes up and discovers the nose is back on his face. He goes
outside, feeling all smug about the size of his nose compared to the noses of the other men
he sees. Life is good, and he decides not to marry that girl after all. Then the narrator pops into
the story to say that it all kind of sounds like nonsense, and who would publish this kind of
thing anyway?

42
THE NOSE PART 1 SUMMARY

Barber Ivan Yakovlevitch chowing down on some brekkie with his grumpy wife, when
he finds a nose in his freshly baked roll.
(That makes us feel a little better about all the dog hair in our baked goods.)
He immediately recognizes the noseit belongs to Collegiate Assessor Kovalev, one
of the barber's regular shaving clients.
His wife starts yelling at him for being a no-good drunkyou know, like you do when
you find a nose on the breakfast table. She demands he get rid of this nose.
The barber is all timid and brow-beaten and has no idea where to ditch the thing. He
decides to just throw it into a gutter somewhere.
But of course, as he's walking around, he keeps bumping into people he knows. And
he can't just throw the nose away in full view of everyone, right?
Instead, he decides to chuck it into the river Neva, remembering that Kovalev is always
complaining about the barber's hands smelling bad.
He throws the nose into the water and feels a ton better immediately.
Just then, a cop shows up and starts asking the barber questions about what he's
been doing on the bridge over the river.
Suddenly the story cuts out with the narrator saying something weird about how no
one knows what happened next.

THE NOSE PART 2 SUMMARY

Meanwhile, that same morning, Collegiate Assessor Kovalev wakes up and discovers
that his nose is totally gone off his face.
There's no wound or scar or anything, just a flat piece of skin where the nose used to
be. We're thinking kind of like this guy, except without the freaky slits.
His general response? Mostly just embarrassment. Like, what are people at work
going to think? Um, maybe that you're some kind of zombie ghoul? No? Ok, then.
It turns out that Kovalev is a pretty ambitious guy, who is all about his civil service title.
You know, he's one of those guys who parades his high-ranking friends around to
show off to everyone else how big-time he is.
He leaves for his office with a handkerchief over his face but then decides to pop into
a restaurant to check whether the nose is still missing. Yup, still gone.
Back outside, he suddenly catches a super-fancy high ranking dude come out of a
carriage and go into a mansion. But it's not just some dudeit's his nose!

43
 Kovalev realizes that his nose is now living a separate life and has in fact become a
higher-ranking official than its owner. Which is for sure enough to make anyone feel
like a slacker. We guess it's like how your teachers are always comparing you to your
superstar older brother, except worse.
Kovalev follows the nose to the Great Gostiny Dvor, a fancy shopping center building.
He wants to confront it, but can't bring himself to talk to someone so much higher
ranking.
Finally, he comes out with the whole dude-you're-my-nose thing, but the nose just
denies it.
Just then a bunch of cute girls walk by, and Kovalev immediately gets into romance
mode until he realizes that he doesn't have a nose, and so can't flirt with the ladies.
Obviously. Because he can't snort stuff like all the other dudes do.
Meanwhile, the nose has run off.
Kovalev tries to follow it, but no luck.
Instead, he decides to put an ad in the paper about the missing nose. The editor of
the classifieds section is totally unimpressed with his story. Ok, actually, at first he
doesn't even get the storyhe assumes that what Kovalev is trying to say is that a
man named Mr. Nose stole some money from him or something.
Finally, Kovalev shows him his face, and the editor is all, huh. Still, he refuses to put the
ad in the paper because he's worried that the paper's reputation will go down the
tubes because of the nonsense.
He tells Kovalev to get himself to a doctor instead. Then he offers him some snuff.
Which Kovalev can't take. Because he has no nose. Duh.
Kovalev takes this as the final insult and goes off to the police station.
There, the police inspector lays into him, mostly because it's dinner time and the guy
just wants to eat his food, ok?
Kovalev goes home and wallows in self-pity. Mostly he's upset that he didn't get
injured in some awesome waylike in a cool way or at least in a cool fight.
Then he starts getting paranoid and decides that all of this is probably being caused
by Madame Podtochina, who is the mother of a girl Kovalev's been leading on but not
actually proposing to.
Just then, a cop shows up. He has the nose! It was intercepted leaving for the city of
Riga and now the cop has it in his pocket. Also, the cop reveals, the barber is totally in
on the whole thing!
Kovalev is super psyched, but when he tries to shove it back onto his face? No dice.
The thing won't stick. Maybe try a needle and thread?

44
 He calls for his doctor neighbor, but when that guy shows up, he's all, no, the nose
thing isn't happening. Better get used to it.
Then he offers to buy it.
Kovalev never looks at the doctor's face, which is too bad because then he would see
that actually that's no doctor at all it's his nose! Making its escape!
Finally, Kovalev decides to write an accusatory letter to Madame Podtochina, yelling at
her for doing some voodoo or something to make his nose go away.
She writes back that she has no idea what he's talking about, but she doesn't know
anyone named Mr. Nose, and that Kovalev is totally welcome to marry her daughter.
He realizes that she's innocent and decides to marry the girl.
Hey, a man with no nose has to take what he can get.
News starts spreading throughout the city about the nose's adventures. It's seen here
and there and becomes a minor celebrity around town.
Again, the story suddenly gets interrupted with the thing about no one knowing what
happened next.

THE NOSE PART 3 SUMMARY

Two weeks later, Kovalev wakes up and discovers that his nose is back on his face.
He is super psyched and immediately calls for the barber (yes, that same barber) to
give him a shave.
This time, though, he doesn't let him hold his nose while shaving his mustache area.
Kovalev keeps checking himself out in the mirror, totally excited each time to see that
the nose is still there.
He goes out to hang out with his buddies and is feeling all sorts of smug whenever he
sees someone with a smaller nose than his.
(Um)
His self-confidence is at an all-time high, which means that, when he runs into
Madame Podtochina and her daughter, he decides not to marry the girl after all.
From that day on, he remains the same guy he's always been. Maybe even more vain
about his rank and stuff, but mostly pretty much the same.
Suddenly the narrative stops, and the narrator pops in to say that the whole story is
pure nonsense, and why on earth did this get printed in the first place?
Still, the narrator concludes, there are weirder things that happen in the world.

THE NOSE THEME OF SOCIETY AND CLASS

45
In "The Nose," Gogol is making fun of a society that is so obsessed with status that anyoneor
anythingwith the outward insignia of an important official passes muster. Even something as
nightmarish or ludicrous as a nose detached from a human face and dressed as a State
Councilor causes envy, admiration, and feelings of inferiority in onlookersevery emotion,
basically, except those that you'd expect a normal person to feel. Like fear. Or, come on, at
least surprise. Even the owner of the nose himself is scared to speak to it because it looks like it
outranks him. Gee, the whole "social class" thing is starting to look pretty silly, isn't it?

Questions About Society and Class

1. Would Kovalev been more successful at confronting the nose if it had become a
small-time tradesman like the barber? Or would that have been such a low position
that Kovalev would have ignored the nose entirely as being beneath his dignity? What
emotions does Kovalev seem to feel about the nose?

2. Why does the nose take Kovalev's ambition? Why not his insecurity or some other
quality? Is a nose particularly well matched with a particular aspect of human
character? (Think about the phrase "nose in the air.")

3. Find all the moments when Kovalev is comparing himself to other men (the dude with
the young woman at the shopping center, for example, or the dude with a small nose
at the end of the story). How are they similar? Different?

4. Why does Kovalev keep Ivan as his barber even though he has smelly hands and was
even implicated in the nose thing by the cop?

Chew on This

Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

The story should really be read as the tragic tale of an ambitious nose whose rise in the world
is thwarted by a jealous rival.

The object of the satire in the story isn't Kovalev and the middling civil servants like him who
obsesses over status, but actually status and ranking themselves.

THE NOSE THEME OF IDENTITY

Brain-twisting question for the win: are you the same person you were yesterday? Are you sure?
Well, you might not be in "The Nose." The great paradox of "The Nose" is that identity is both
super-specific and unique and at the very same time totally fluid, depending on what markers
the identifier is using. For example, the nose itself is both very easy to recognize (the barber
knows whose it is as soon as he sees it), hard to recognize (it manages to escape from its own

46
owner by pretending to be a doctor), and able to create for itself a whole new life apart from
its place of origin (to the point that it can even deny being Kovalev's nose right to his face). If
identity is really so slippery in this world, then what forms the core of any human being there?

Questions About Identity

1. Why doesn't Kovalev recognize that his nose has turned into the doctor that is fooling
him? Is he way dumb or is the nose way clever? Or does it not have to do with
intelligence at all?

2. Both the celebrity seekers and the newspaper advertising man connect all the totally
unrelated odd things happening around town together. Why? Is this a way of
embracing the weirdness? Cataloguing it for better understanding?

3. Kovalev starts the story with two identities. Is he really Major Kovalev, who served in
the army and got a cushy civil service job out of it? Or is he Collegiate Assessor
Kovalev, who is all ready for his next promotion and maybe marriage? What other
identities does he pick up as the story goes on? Which stick? Which don't?

Chew on This

Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

In "The Nose," identity is so fluid that actually the fact that Kovalev emerges as the exact same
person at the end of the story is a triumphant happy ending.

Gogol suggests that identity is actually completely static and only seems fluid to those who
use primarily external markers as a way of identifying others.

THE NOSE THEME OF THE SUPERNATURAL

"The Nose," like any work of magical realism, does its best to try to blend the supernatural into
the normal and expected. Instead of freaking out when they see a nose walking around
without a face behind it, people in this story tend to be calmly puzzled, if anything. At the
same time, Gogol throws in elements that take the supernatural to the other extremethose
weird fade-outs at the end of the first two sections really up the ooooh-spoooooky ante.
Either way, the result is intentionally comical rather than mystifying.

Questions About The Supernatural

47
 1. The nose is constantly changing sizesmall enough for a face, big enough to wear
clothes, etc. Why doesn't this get brought up in the story itself? What would change if
Kovalev or another character thought about this?

2. Are there any other supernatural elements besides the nose? Do those other strange
things (the possessed chairs, etc.) count? Why or why not?

3. How does the sudden appearance of the narrator as a real life person change the way
we see the story? Is this yet another transformation of an mostly inanimate object
the narrator as a structure for the author's voiceinto an actual living being?

Chew on This

Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

The nose is to Kovalev as the narrator is to the author of the story. Each escapes from its
owner and tries to create a separate life.

The story deftly avoids being either a fable with a moral or an allegory with a definite
interpretation by wildly veering from one of these genres to the other.

THE NOSE THEME OF FEAR

Let's be honest: fear is a great motivator. The fear that you'll fail your Calculus midterm, the
fear that your friends won't like your haircut, the fear that your FB status update won't be
funny enough to get "Likes" yeah, fear drives a lot of what you do. Same in "The Nose." Fear
of being inadequate, fear that your drive and ambition are still not enough to outperform a
fiercer rival, fear of literally losing your manhood or figuratively being castrated, fear of making
a fool of yourself in public. Whew. We're feeling a little anxious ourselves. What's more,
although each of these fears is represented through Kovalev's interactions with his nose, they
each have a more realistic form as well. For example, the ambition of the nose only matches
the ambition of Kovalev's higher-ranking friends; while his sexual fears are pretty clearly based
on the fact that there's a rival for Mademoiselle Podtochina's hand in marriage.

Questions About Fear

1. What does Kovalev fear the most? The least? Does that change from the beginning of
the story to the end? Why or why not?

2. Is the nose scared of anything? Is it even scared of being caught? What poses a threat
to it, if anything?

3. Many of the story's confrontations are funny because they are all about social
embarrassment and awkwardnessthink about the way Kovalev talks to the nose, or

48
 the way he talks to the police inspector. How would the story be different if Kovalev
were a little smoother and cooler with other people?

Chew on This

Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

The nose is a better, less fearful version of Kovalev. It's really just trying to show him the man
he could be if he lost some of his hang-ups.

The point of the story is that fear is the glue that holds society together. Take it away, and
you've got rogue operators like the nose heading for total domination.

THE NOSE SOCIETY AND CLASS QUOTES

How we cite our quotes: (Section.Paragraph)

Quote #1

Major Kovalev was in the habit of taking a daily walk on Nevsky Prospekt in an
extremely clean and well-starched shirt and collar, and in whiskers of the sort
still to be seen on provincial surveyors, architects, regimental doctors, other
officials, and all men who have round, red cheeks, and play a good hand of
"Boston." Such whiskers run across the exact center of the cheekthen head
straight for the nose. [] And, finally, Major Kovalev had come to live in St.
Petersburg because of necessity. That is to say, he had come to live in St.
Petersburg because he wished to obtain a post befitting his new title
whether a Vice-Governorship or, failing that, an Administratorship in a
leading department. Nor was Major Kovalev altogether set against marriage.
Merely he required that his bride should possess not less than two hundred
thousand rubles in capital. The reader, therefore, can now imagine what was
the Major's disposition when he saw that instead of a not unpresentable nose
there was on his face an extremely uncouth, smooth, and uniform patch.
(2.4-5)

Ok, so right away we know that Major Kovalev is the diametric opposite of the barber
(clean, precisely shaven, not a drunk). Also, totally ambitious about getting up into
society. Check out how he does that thing where you're supposed to dress like what you
aspire to be (when you're going in for a job interview anyway). His facial hair looks like
the facial hair of other mid-high level officials, he plays the right kind of card game (think
of businessmen and golf for a modern-day analogy), he's moved to the right city, and

49
 now he's looking for the right wife with the right dowry. Meaning, he's a guy who's
devoted a huge amount of time to looking the partand now he doesn't look right at all.

Quote #2

Sure enough, the Nose did return, two minutes later. It was clad in a
gold-braided, high-collared uniform, buckskin breeches, and cockaded hat.
And slung beside it there was a sword, and from the cockade on the hat it
could be inferred that the Nose was purporting to pass for a State Councilor.
It seemed now to be going to pay another visit somewhere. At all events it
glanced about it, and then, shouting to the coachman, "Drive up here,"
reentered the vehicle, and set forth. (2.11-12)

So, in the space of a day, the Nose has leapt off of Kovalev's face and gotten himself into
a higher-ranking position. Yeah, this is well out of the realm of realism. And notice how
apparently this one facial feature was the location of all of Kovalev's ambitionand now
that it's a lone actor, it can just go forth and conquer without being held back by the rest
of Kovalev.

Quote #3

Kovalev felt so upset that for a while he could decide upon no course of
action save to scan every corner in the gentleman's pursuit. At last he sighted
him again, standing before a counter, and, with face hidden altogether
behind the uniform's standup collar, inspecting with absorbed attention some
wares.

"How, even so, am I to approach it?" Kovalev reflected. "Everything about it,
uniform, hat, and all, seems to show that it is a State Councilor. now. Only the
devil knows what is to be done!"

He started to cough in the Nose's vicinity, but the Nose did not change its
position for a single moment.

"My good sir," at length Kovalev said, compelling himself to boldness, "my
good sir, I " (2.13-16)

50
 Kovalev believes in social status so much that he might as well be a seventh grader at
recess. He immediately buys into the idea that the nose now outranks him and is crazy
stressed about how to start talking to this much more important individual than with
anything else like say the idea that this is his nose!

Presently the agreeable swish of ladies' dresses began to be heard [ ]

Kovalev's smiles became broader still when peeping from under the hat he
saw there to be an alabaster, rounded little chin, and part of a cheek flushed
like an early rose. But all at once he recoiled as though scorched, for all at
once he had remembered that he had not a nose on him, but nothing at all.
(2.28-29)

It's just really funny how totally incongruous everyone's actions are. Kovalev keeps falling
back on "proper society behavior" in every new situationhere, as soon as he sees a cute
girl walk by, he starts in with the lady-killing. And then of course he remembers that he
has no nose, and has to totally change his programming to something else. Because you
can't just go up and ask for some girl's number without a nose, can you?

Quote #5

Meanwhile, as the day was fine and sunny, the Prospekt was thronged with
pedestrians alsoa whole kaleidoscopic stream of ladies was flowing along
the pavements, from Police Headquarters to the Anitchkin Bridge. There one
could descry an Aulic Councilor. whom Kovalev knew well. A gentleman he
was whom Kovalev always addressed as "Lieutenant-Colonel," and especially
in the presence of others. And there went Yaryzhkin, Chief Clerk to the Senate,
a crony who always rendered forfeit at "Boston" on playing an eight. (2.30)

So, a little peek into the character our dear friend Kovalev. He's the kind of dude who
loves to parade his fancy friends in front of other people (check out how he makes a big
deal out of using the Lieutenant-Colonel's title whenever he can). It's no wonder that all
of that ambition and upward mobility is even more concentrated in the guy's noseyou
know, the snob body part.

Quote #6

51
 Yes, the inspector gave it Kovalev between the eyes. And as it should be
added that Kovalev was extremely sensitive where his title or his dignity was
concerned (though he readily pardoned anything said against himself
personally, and even held, with regard to stage plays, that, whilst
Staff-Officers should not be assailed, officers of lesser rank might be referred
to), the police inspector's reception so took him aback that, in a dignified way,
and with hands set apart a little, he nodded, remarked: "After your insulting
observations there is nothing which I wish to add," and betook himself away
again. (2.89)

That Kovalev! Insult his mom all you want, but don't you dare mess with his titles. What
makes the story funny is that the titled guy always winsand that what freaks Kovalev
out about losing his nose isn't, you know, randomly not having a nosebut losing is
social status.

And majestically [the doctor] withdrew. Kovalev, meanwhile, had never once
looked at his face. In his distraction he had noticed nothing beyond a pair of
snowy cuffs projecting from black sleeves. (2.130)

Once again, Kovalev is totally thrown by the exterior markers of status and can't see
what's behind that surface exterior. Spoiler alert: dude, it's your nose dressed up as a
doctor and making its escape.

Quote #8

In the street, on leaving the colleague's, he met Madame Podtochina, and

also Madame Podtochina's daughter. Bowing to them, he was received with
nothing but joyous exclamations. Clearly all had been fancy, no harm had
been done. So not only did he talk quite a while to the ladies, but he took
special care, as he did so, to produce his snuffbox, and deliberately plug his
nose at both entrances. Meanwhile inwardly he said:

"There now, good ladies! There now, you couple of hens! I'm not going to
marry the daughter, though. All this is justpar amour, allow me." (3.14-21)

52
 Great, Kovalev has his nose back. And what's his takeaway? The big lesson learned?
The Golden Moment? Just one more thing to be a snob aboutthe size of the noses on
other people's faces. Check out how now apparently most of his status-seeking gestures
(checking himself out in the mirror constantly, using snuff) are nose-related.

HE NOSE IDENTITY QUOTES

How we cite our quotes: (Section.Paragraph)

Quote #1

Barber Ivan Yakovlevitch, a dweller on the Voznesensky Prospekt (his last

name is lost nowit no longer figures on a signboard bearing a portrait of a
gentleman with a soaped cheek, and the words: "Also, Blood Let Here") []
Raising himself a little, he perceived his wife (a most respectable lady, and one
especially fond of coffee) (1.1)

An amazing run of totally random, highly specific, and at the same time completely
useless ways to identify people here. We've got the barber, who gets a profession, no last
name, and a super-detailed description of his shop sign. Then there's his wife who gets a
super-vague description ("respectable lady"that could mean anything!) and a detail
that really doesn't amount to much of anything ("loves coffee").

Quote #2

[The barber] realized that the nose was none other than that of Collegiate
Assessor Kovalev, whom he was shaved every Wednesday and Sunday. (1.9)

The joke is either the idea that the barber could actually identify a nose without a face
attached (who could possible actually do that?), or that the barber is exactly the kind of
person who could identify the nose since he has to hold each man's nose during a shave.
You pick what you think is funnier. (And of course, nothing makes jokes funny like a long
and drawn out explanation of their humor. You're welcome.)

Quote #3

Like every decent Russian tradesman, Ivan Yakovlevitch was a terrible drunk.
What's more, even though he daily shaved the chins of others, his own was

53
 always unshorn, and his jacket (he never wore a topcoat) was piebaldthat is
it was black, but thickly studded with grayish, brownish-yellowish stainsand
shiny at the collar, and adorned with three drooping tufts of thread instead of
buttons. (1.18)

Here's another bit of character description that starts out pretty normal and then just
totally careens off the rails. Remember, we're working with the 19th-century tradition
here, where the general rule is that every time a new character is introduced, the narrator
does a head to toe, backwards and forwards, origin story and emotional issues type of
reveal. Which is kind of how we start out: the barber Ivan is a drunk, which is a national
pastime for men of his age and class in tsarist Russia; he doesn't take care of his
appearance or his clothes, which is definitely supposed to tell us something about him as
a person (go ahead, list the things meant to be revealed by that). But then we veer off
into crazy townthe barber is cynical, the narrator tells us (Ahem, big money word here!
A cynic is someone who is scornful, jaded, and generally thinks that people are motivated
by greed and self-interest rather than integrity)and what supports this idea? The fact
that the dude whose nose he finds has sometimes told him that his hands smell?
What?!?!

Collegiate Assessor Kovalev also awoke early that morning. [] Here let me
add something which may enable the reader to perceive just what the
Collegiate Assessor was like. Of course, it goes without saying that Collegiate
Assessors who acquire the title with the help of academic diplomas cannot be
compared with Collegiate Assessors who become Collegiate Assessors
through service in the Caucasus, for the two species are wholly distinct, they
are[] Now, Kovalev was a "Caucasian" Collegiate Assessor, and had, as yet,
borne the title for two years only. Hence, unable ever to forget it, he sought
the more to give himself dignity and weight by calling himself, in addition to
"Collegiate Assessor," "Major." (2.1-2)

So, first of all, the idea is that Kovalev only got his job in the civil service because he
served in the military, which makes him feel inferior to people who got to his level
through school and college. Anyway. Again, Gogol is playing with the traditional
19th-century realist thing of giving the reader a back story for every characterand
preferably a back story with some kind of read on society or on psychology or whatever.
Sure, we get that here, with Kovalev's feelings of inadequacy and the way he clings to his

54
 old army title ("Major"). But we also get a sense of how ridiculous the whole thing is,
because the constant repetition of the word "Collegiate Assessor" ends up sounding like
gibberish.

Quote #5

"Good sir"Major Kovalev gave his shoulders a shrug"I do not know

whether you yourself (pardon me) consider conduct of this sort to be
altogether in accordance with the rules of duty and honor, but at least you
can understand that " []

"My dear sir, you speak in error," was its reply. "I am just myselfmyself
separately. And in any case there cannot ever have existed a close relation
between us, for, judging from the buttons of your undress uniform, your
service is being performed in another department than my own."
And the Nose definitely turned away. (2.21-26)

Who knew switching identities was so easy? Kovalev immediately starts treating the nose
as an individual, and a higher-ranking individual at thatand the nose immediately starts
acting like it's its own person, dismissing the low-ranking official who's bothering it with
dumb questions of being a nose. The kicker? Kovalev accepts that as appropriate. Which
fits nicely with the story's theme of identity being very much an external thing, not
something psychologically innate. Justwhatever you present to the world, that's what
you are. No black-market passport necessary.

Quote #6

"No," he said at length. "Insert such an announcement I cannot. [] it might

injure the paper's reputation. Imagine if everyone were to start proclaiming a
disappearance of his nose! People would begin to say that, thatwell, that
we printed absurdities and false tales."

"But how is this matter a false tale? [] I am advertising not about a poodle,
but about my own nose, which is surely, for all intents and purposes, myself?"
(2.58-70)

55
 And there we have it folksa grand philosophical question right in the middle of a
hilarious scene of a guy trying to put a classified ad in the paper about his missing nose. If
the nose now has its own life, is it its own person? Or is it still a part of Kovalev? At what
point is he supposed to write it off as no longer belonging to himself but having its own
individual existence? If our bodies change, grow, and shed over time, do we remain
fundamentally the same people? Deep thoughts, Shmoopers, deep thoughts

"Ah, you!" Here Ivan Yakovlevitch glanced at the nose. Then he bent his head
askew, and contemplated the nose from a position on the flank. "It looks right
enough," finally he commented, but eyed the member for quite a little while
longer before carefully, so gently as almost to pass the imagination, he lifted
two fingers towards it, in order to grasp its tip such always being his
procedure. (3.12)

Ok, so first of all, why on earth would Kovalev still use the same barber after the cop
clearly told him that this dude was involved in the nose business? Whatever. In any case,
we are loving the idea that the barber can immediately identify each nose on sightand
that here, he's been through enough trouble with this thing that he still calls it "you" even
though the nose is all done being its own person and is back to being an object on
someone's face.

Quote #8

And from that time onwards Major Kovalev gadded about the same as before.
He walked on the Nevsky Prospekt, and he visited theaters, and he showed
himself everywhere. And always the nose accompanied him the same as
before, and evinced no signs of again purposing a departure. Great was his
good humor, replete was he with smiles, intent was he upon pursuit of fair
ladies. Once, it was noted, he even halted before a counter of the Gusting
Dvor, and there purchased the ribbon of an order. Why precisely he did so is
not known, for of no order was he a knight. (3.22)

So, this is the opposite of a traditional story. You know, usually there's a character arc and
the point of the reading the thing is to find out how a character goes from being one way
to being another way. But here? This totally nightmarishly crazy thing happens, and then
Kovalev just goes about his business like always. He doesn't even end up marrying that

56
 girl. What do we do with a protagonist that straight up refuses to change in any way. Is
this aspect of "The Nose" the most mysteriously magical one of all?

THE NOSE THE SUPERNATURAL QUOTES

How we cite our quotes: (Section.Paragraph)

Quote #1

[Ivan Yakovlevitch] cut the roll open. Then he glanced into the roll's middle.
To his intense surprise he saw something glimmering there. He probed it
cautiously with the knifethen poked at it with a finger. [] He stuck in his
fingers, and pulled outa nose! .. His hands dropped to his sides for a
moment. Then he rubbed his eyes hard. Then again he probed the thing. A
nose! Sure enough a nose! (1.5-7)

Now, it's true that in this first section we don't really get to the high level of magical
realism from the story's second section, but we're already starting to get the slightly
off-kilter feel of the story's universe here. It's a nose, and it's totally intact to the point that
the barber will be able to recognize it. Which means, no blood, no knife marksnothing
of the kind of scene it could be if we were working with realism here. But instead it's just a
weird and inconvenient object, like if you found a rock in your bread roll, or a small stick
maybe. Definitely not a severed finger in your French fries.

Quote #2

This made Ivan Yakovlevitch blanch, and

Further events here become enshrouded in mist. What happened after that is
unknown to all men. (1.30-31)

Oh yeah: Gogol's tongue is pretty firmly jammed into his cheek on this one. We've got a
way, way overblown mystically magically mysterious conclusion to the whole barber story.
Seriously? "Unknown to all men"? That's taking it to the farthest extreme of
mock-spookery. With hilarious results! No, really. Hilarious.

Quote #3

57
 But, to his unbounded astonishment, there was only a flat patch on his face
where the nose should have been! Greatly alarmed, he got some water,
washed, and rubbed his eyes hard with the towel. Yes, the nose indeed was
gone! He prodded the spot with a handpinched himself to make sure that
he was not still asleep. But no; he was not still sleeping. Then he leapt from
the bed, and shook himself. No nose! Finally, he got his clothes on, and
hurried to the office of the Police Commissioner. (2.1)

Nice, we're back to the fantastical again. Why do we say that? Ok, imagine you wake up
in the morning, and the nose is missing from your face. Is your first reaction to run to the
office? Yeah, not so much. But this guy is still mostly stressed about getting to work on
time. (Come to think of it, you know who else has the same exact reaction? Gregor Samsa,
when he wakes up and has turned into a cockroach in Kafka's "Metamorphosis." All of
literature is giant game of connect the dots, people.)

Then [Kovalev] halted as though riveted to earth. For in front of the doors of a
mansion he saw occur a phenomenon of which, simply, no explanation was
possible. Before that mansion there stopped a carriage. And then a door of
the carriage opened, and there leapt thence, huddling himself up, a
uniformed gentleman, and that uniformed gentleman ran headlong up the
mansion's entrance-steps, and disappeared within. And oh, Kovalev's horror
and astonishment to perceive that the gentleman was none other thanhis
own nose! (2.11)

You guys, did you crack up at this? Yeah, us too. Just the mental work necessary to
picture a nose in a uniform? Somehow getting out of a carriage? Meaning does it now
have feet and stuff? So funny.

Quote #5

"Already it had entered a stagecoach, and was about to leave for Riga with a
passport made out in the name of a certain civil servant. And, curiously
enough, I myself, at first, took it to be a gentleman. Luckily, though, I had my
eyeglasses on me. Soon, therefore, I perceived the 'gentleman' to be no more
than a nose. []"

58
 "Do not trouble, sir. Knowing how greatly you stand in need of it, I have it with
me. It is a curious fact, too, that the chief agent in the affair has been a rascal
of a barber who lives on the Vozkresensky Prospekt, and now is sitting at the
police station. For long past I had suspected him of drunkenness and theft,
and only three days ago he took away from a shop a button-card. Well, you
will find your nose to be as before."

And the officer delved into a pocket, and drew thence the nose, wrapped in
paper. (2.106-110)

Hilarity again, guys. (1) The nose changes in size so crazily that it's impossible to actually
visualize any of the ostensibly visual descriptions: first it's big enough to look like a
person, then it's clearly a nose, and then it's back to regular nose size and fits in a pocket.
(2) The cop is so near-sighted that he can't tell the difference between a nose and a
human? Wha??? (3) The cop returns the nose just as if it were a wallet or something, no
biggie. Are there other incongruous or strange details here?

Quote #6

Everyone's mind was, at that period, bent upon the marvelous. Recently
experiments with the action of magnetism had occupied public attention, and
the history of the dancing chairs of Koniushennaia Street also was fresh. So no
one could wonder when it began to be said that the nose of Collegiate
Assessor Kovalev could be seen promenading the Nevsky Prospekt at three
o'clock, or when a crowd of curious sightseers gathered there. Next, someone
declared that the nose, rather, could be beheld at Junker's store, and the
throng which surged thither became so massed as to necessitate a summons
to the police [] Next, word had it that the nose was walking, not on the
Nevsky Prospekt, but in the Taurida Park, and, in fact, had been in the habit of
doing so for a long while past, so that even in the days when Khozrev Mirza
had lived near there he had been greatly astonished at the freak of nature.
This led students to repair thither from the College of Medicine, and a certain
eminent, respected lady to write and ask the Warden of the Park to show her
children the phenomenon, and, if possible, add to the demonstration a lesson
of edifying and instructive tenor. (2.136-138)

59
 The nose as perfect tabloid fodder! Gotta love the slippage here between (1) a
supernatural phenomenon (the nose is another freak show thing like possessed chairs), (2)
celebrity sighting magnet (Nevsky Prospect is the place to see and be seen in St.
Petersburg), and (3) teachable moment (for children and med students alike!). Another
great example of just how magical realism happens the walking-around nose is
ostensibly really actually happening in the world, but this wondrous event is treated as
though it were just the usual, run-of-the-mill nonsense that fills the gossip pages.

The world is full of nonsense. Sometimes what happens is really completely

unbelievable. And so, the nose which lately had gone about as a State
Councilor and stirred up the city, suddenly reoccupied its proper place
(between the two cheeks of Major Kovalev) as though nothing at all had
happened. The date was April 7th, and when, that morning, the major awoke
as usual, and, as usual, threw a despairing glance at the mirror, he this time,
beheld before him, what?why, the nose again! Instantly he took hold of it.
Yes, really, the nose! (3.1)

So what do we make of Gogol classifying what he's been describing as "unbelievable

nonsense"? Are we meant to take this seriously? Is Gogol, like, throwing down the genre
gauntlet and challenging us to a fight about it?

Quote #8

To think of such an affair happening in this our vast empire's northern capital!
Yet general opinion decided that the affair had about it much of the
improbable. Leaving out of the question the nose's strange, unnatural
removal, and its subsequent appearance as a State Councilor, how came
Kovalev not to know that one ought not to advertise for a nose through a
newspaper? [] such a proceeding would have been gauche, derogatory, not
the thing. And how came the nose into the baked roll? And what of Ivan
Yakovlevitch? Oh, I cannot understand these pointsabsolutely I cannot. And
the strangest, most unintelligible fact of all is that authors actually can select
such occurrences for their subject! (3.23-24)

Whoa, Nellie! Now we have not only a bunch of in-story supernatural stuff going on, but
also a metafictional bit of the supernatural! (Slow down, there, Shmoop: what does that

60
 mean? Well, friends, "metafiction" is a literary devicebasically, it's when a piece of art
starts being all self-referential, and aware of itself as a work that someone produced. So
like, when an actor suddenly turns to the camera and starts talking right to the audience,
pointing out that he is in a movie. Or if at the end of the book, we suddenly read that we
are coming to the end of the book.) Here, the narrator suddenly points out story
problems and then blames the "authors" for thembut does that mean the narrator
has suddenly turned into another reader? Oooooh, spooky.

THE NOSE FEAR QUOTES

How we cite our quotes: (Section.Paragraph)

Quote #1

He stuck in his fingers, and pulled outa nose! [...] His hands dropped to his
sides for a moment. Then he rubbed his eyes hard. Then again he probed the
thing. A nose! Sure enough a nose! Yes, and one familiar to him, somehow!
Oh, horror spread upon his face! (1.7)

You have to love how Kovalev experiencing fear looking at a facial feature and that fear
is being reflected on his own features. Like, we aren't told that he feels bad, but instead
that the badness can be seen on his face. But, uh, without much a face left, how does that
horror spread? You can practically hear Gogol laughing at us.

Quote #2

So [the barber] sat silent. At the thought that the police might find the nose at
his place, and arrest him, he felt frantic. Yes, already he could see the red
collar with the smart silver braidingthe sword! He shuddered from head to
foot. (1.14)

Fear seems to pretty much be the barber's main emotion. He's stressed at the idea of
exposure and being caught, which is fine, but, uh, shouldn't there be other feelings? Guilt
or innocence? Confusion about how this nose came to be in his bread roll? Sudden and
dramatic loss of appetite?

Quote #3

61
 "Stop, Prascovia Osipovna! I'll wrap it in a rag, in some corner: leave it there
for awhile, and afterwards I'll take it away." [] But at last he got out, and
donned waistcoat and shoes, wrapped the nose in a rag, and departed amid
Prascovia Osipovna's forcible abjurations. His one idea was to rid himself of
the nose, and return quietly hometo do so either by throwing the nose into
the gutter in front of the gates or by just letting it drop anywhere. Yet,
unfortunately, he kept meeting friends, and they kept saying to him: "Where
are you off to?" or "Whom have you arranged to shave at this early hour?"
until finding a suitable moment became impossible. (1.10-16)

The barber is totally unable to commit to a plan of action. Everything he does is totally
reactiveto his wife, to the nose, to friends he meets on the street. Are we supposed to
think that he's different from Kovalevor is this something the two dudes have in
common?

He approached a mirror in some trepidation, and peeped therein. Then he

spat.

"The devil only knows what this vileness means!" he muttered. "If even there
had been something to take the nose's place! But, as it is, there's nothing
there at all."

He bit his lips with vexation, and hurried out of the restaurant. No; as he went
along he must look at no one, and smile at no one. (2.5-11)

Ok, so what exactly is making Kovalev scared here? He's holding up the hanky, so he's
clearly stressed about being seenbut is he assuming the reaction of other people will
be disgust? Terror? Not really, right? And that's what makes this funnyhe's basically
acting as if he has a giant zit on his face. His main fear is that he'll be laughed at rather
than that he'll be seen as a monster.

Quote #5

Eventually, having once more reviewed the circumstances, he reached the

final conclusion that he should most nearly hit the truth in supposing
Madame Podtochina (wife of the Staff-Officer, of coursethe lady who

62
 wanted him to become her daughter's husband) to have been the prime
agent in the affair. True, he had always liked dangling in the daughter's wake,
but also he had always fought shy of really coming down to business Yes,
the truth must be that out of revenge the Staff-Officer's wife had resolved to
ruin him, and hired a band of witches for the purpose, seeing that the nose
could not conceivably have been cut off. (2.96-97)

It's interesting that Kovalev immediately gets into some super-paranoid conspiracy
theories about what happened to his face. Some of it is probably some guilt about the
daughter situation (you know, why isn't he putting a ring on it if he likes it?), but there's
also a sense that the whole world that he lives in is kind of a mess of ulterior motives and
hidden agendas. When you look at it that way, the idea that this is all part of some big
plot against him doesn't seem so far-fetched.

Quote #6

Feeling, somehow, very nervous, he drew the mirror closer to him, lest he
should fit the nose awry. His hands were trembling as gently, very carefully he
lifted the nose in place. But, oh, horrors, it would not remain in place! He held
it to his lips, warmed it with his breath, and again lifted it to the patch
between his cheeksonly to find, as before, that it would not retain its
position.

"Come, come, fool!" said he. "Stop where you are, I tell you."

But the nose, obstinately wooden, fell upon the table with a strange sound as
of a cork, whilst the Major's face became convulsed.

"Surely it is not too large now?" he reflected in terror. Yet as often as he raised
it towards its proper position the new attempt proved as vain as the last.
(2.117-122)

The nose has been out in the world and it's gotten too fancy for Kovalev. Or something.
Basically isn't this just a way over-heightened version of that weird feeling you get when
you try to put on clothes that are too cool or too whateverjust not quite right for you

63
 somehow? It's like your body isn't really just your body but an extension of your
personality. And what if they don't match? Then bye-bye cool new version of yourself.

COLLEGIATE ASSESSOR KOVALEV

Character Analysis

Do you like how we gave Kovalev his title? Yeah, he'd like that, too. A civil servant of middling
rank, Kovalev is a status-obsessed man who one day wakes up with his nose missing.

The Insecure Snob

For a story as short and crazy as this one, we really do get some pretty specific psychological
insight into Kovalev, don't we? Now, Shmoop's not a psychologist and doesn't even play one
on YouTube, but haven't we all met someone who wants to lord his status over other people
but still feels inferior all the time?

Well, meet Kovalev. How do we know he's insecure? From a nice little summary paragraph that
tells us just how the dude feels about his civil service status (which back in the day correlated
pretty well with social status also):

Of course, it goes without saying that Collegiate Assessors who acquire the title with the help
of academic diplomas cannot be compared with Collegiate Assessors who become Collegiate
Assessors through service in the Caucasus, for the two species are wholly distinct, [] Now,
Kovalev was a "Caucasian" Collegiate Assessor, and had, as yet, borne the title for two years
only. Hence, unable ever to forget it, he sought the more to give himself dignity and weight by
calling himself, in addition to "Collegiate Assessor," "Major." (2.2)

What do we learn here? Well, it looks like Kovalev got to where he is not through white-collar
academic stuff, but through blue-collar soldiering stuff. This bothers him so much that he
beefs up his titles in order to "give himself dignity and weight." And the kind of guy who wants
to give himself more weight? Well, that's a guy who's pretty sure people aren't taking him
seriously enough.

Well, maybe that's because he takes every opportunity to feel superior to other people. Even
after his whole ordeal, all Kovalev learns is that he now has yet another way to compare
himself to others:

[Kovalev] turned round in cheerful mood, and, with eves contracted slightly, bestowed a bold,
satirical scrutiny upon two military men, one of the noses on whom was no larger than a
waistcoat button. (3.14)

64
Great. So now, not only is he obsessed with status, but he will also start mentally measuring
nosesahemwith every other guy he sees.

What's the point of this? Well, we're not surebut we think it might have something to do
with Gogol wanting to poke a little fun at the style of writing where the protagonist learns a
Very Valuable Lesson by the end of the book. Because this guy doesn't learn a thing.

The Divided Man

All of this social climbing stress is part of the whole satire of the story in the first place, which is
mostly making fun of the pointless but desperate struggle to climb up the social ladder rung
by rung. The joke is funniest when Kovalev comes face to face with his now higher-ranking
nose and is totally unable to bring himself to even speak to such an illustrious figure.

"How, even so, am I to approach it [the nose]?" Kovalev reflected. "Everything about it, uniform,
hat, and all, seems to show that it is a State Councilor now. Only the devil knows what is to be
done!"

He started to cough in the Nose's vicinity, but the Nose did not change its position for a single
moment.

"My good sir," at length Kovalev said, compelling himself to boldness, "my good sir, I
" (2.14-16)

Hilarious, right? He's stressing out about talking to his own nose not because it is really, really
weird to be talking to a disembodied nosebut because it's now a State Councilor. And why is
this all happening? Because even before Kovalev is a dude who is split in two by a weird twist
of sci fi, he's a guy who is split in two by his own preoccupation with his position in the world.

You know how people talk about the difference between the actual President of the U.S.the
actual human beingand the office of the Presidency? Well, Kovalev has that approach to his
own life. Check it out: "Kovalev was extremely sensitive where his title or his dignity was
concerned though he readily pardoned anything said against himself personally" (2.89).

In other words, Kovalev is already living a life where the rank and title he presents to the world
is totally different in his mind from his existence as a person. No wonder that when his nose
peels off his face, it takes the ambition and signifiers of status that are Kovalev's defining
characteristics. (Isn't that always the way it is? Think about Mr. Hyde, who is a straight up
embodiment of every evil thing Dr. Jekyll would like to do, or the Hulk, who is just all of Bruce
Banner's rage all bottled up into a big green dude.)

COLLEGIATE ASSESSOR KOVALEV TIMELINE AND SUMMARY

65
 Collegiate Assessor Kovalev wakes up without his nose.
He keeps checking in the mirror, but no, definitely totally gone.
When he heads out into the street, he can't catch a cab and has to walk.
Kovalev pops into a restaurant to check a mirror again, and when he comes out he
sees his nosewhich is now a State Councilor (much higher rank).
After following the nose, Kovalev confronts it in a fancy pants shopping centerbut
the nose denies being his nose. The nerve!
Not sure what to do, Kovalev goes to a newspaper office to put an ad in the paper.
The clerk there listens to his story, checks out his face, but refuses to run the ad
because it'll affect the paper's credibility.
He offers Kovalev snuffwhich Kovalev of course can't use because he has no nose.
Not very sensitive, Mr. Clerk.
Kovalev goes to the police, but the inspector there just reams him out for interrupting
dinner.
At home, Kovalev is about to give up when a cop shows up with the nose in a
handkerchief.
Kovalev is psyched, but the nose won't stick back on his face.
He calls for a doctor, who shows up and tells him there's nothing to be done, and
offers to buy the nose. Hijinks!
The doctor is actually his nose in disguise.
Kovalev writes an angry letter to Madame Podtochina, the mother of his latest crush,
accusing her of doing the nose thing.
Her return letter is all confused and apologetic, and she obviously has no idea what
he's talking about.
So he decides to marry her daughter.
Until, that is, he wakes up two weeks later, and his nose is back.
Thrilled, he immediately goes out to see some friends.
On the way, he is contemptuous of any dude with a smaller nose than his.
He runs into Madame Podtochina and her daughter, flirts a little, and decides not to
marry the girl after all.
He's perfectly happy to spend the rest of his life as social climber, and his nose stays
put from then on.

THE NOSE

Character Analysis

66
Admit it: noses are hilarious. They're probably the weirdest of any of our facial features (expect
maybe eyebrows), just hanging out in the middle of our faces being all big and runny. No
wonder Kovalev's nose wanted out.

Rags to Riches

The funniest thing about the nose's story might just be the fact it's a hilarious send-up of a
traditional rags to riches story. But, you know, about a nose.

Think about it: the nose begins the story tossed out of the house of the baker into the gut ter.
Orphaned, abandoned, and alone, it literally doesn't have a penny to its name. But then,
somehow, it rises to the level of a State Councilora really high civil service rank. And think
about all the challenges it has to overcome, what with being just a nose from the gutter. But of
course, it's hard out there for a pimp(led nose). So it's forced into a life of crime? We guess?

It's kind of hard to tell what the deal is with that cop's story about how the nose was
apprehended. But still, a good run while it lasted, no?

Friend or Foe?

Ok, time for some frank talk. Is the nose generally a bad guy or a good guy? Obviously, for
Kovalev, the whole no-nose thing is a disaster. But are we meant to take his side on this? Let's
consider.

On the "nose is way evil" side of things, we have some kind of identity theft. Or maybe
personality theft, since the nose is obviously not actually going around pretending to be
Kovalev but is instead using his ambition to become a rival in the civil service. Either way,
clearly the nose is all about disguise, snobbery, and just straight up grasping for status. First it's
a State Councilor, then a doctor, and check out the story the cop tells of the nose:

the nose was found beside a roadway. Already it had entered a stagecoach, and was about to
leave for Riga with a passport made out in the name of a certain civil servant. And, curiously
enough, I myself, at first, took it to be a gentleman. (2.106).

Ok, granted, impersonating various important people is not so great, especially in a society
that is super-duper concerned with figuring out everyone's exact position in the social
structure. But what if we think about the nose in a different way? Not really about what it's
doing so much, but more about what the consequences of its actions are?

For example: is Kovalev is a better person with or without the nose? With the nose, he's a
snobby twit who is mostly concerned with status. But without the nose? He develops
compassion (mainly for that girl he's been leading on and her mom), he stops constantly

67
comparing himself to everyone else, and he actually seems like a better version of himself.
Then, as soon as he gets it back, Kovalev turns back into the same jerk-o he's always been.

IVAN YAKOVLEVITCH, THE BARBER

Character Analysis

Does the barber even feel like a character that belongs in this story? Sure, his little domestic
squabble with his wife over the nose they find in a breakfast roll intros the main narrative. And
his slovenly grossness and general dirty unpleasantness seems like it's going to be contrasted
in some important way to how careful Kovalev is about his appearance.

But nope. Nothing the barber does with the nose prepares us for the idea that the nose is
going to suddenly grow to human size and wander about by itself. Even though Kovalev's
worries about his new nose-less appearance, it doesn't really seem to matter that out there
somewhere in the world of the story exists another guy who is generally dirty and unkempt.

Really, the only reason to set the barber in the first place seems to be to throw out that final
joke at the endhow the only way the Kovalev changes after his whole ordeal is that he no
longer lets the barber hold his nose while shaving him.

On the other hand it is just as possible that the barber is the most crucial element that sets
the plot into motion. After all, the narrator takes a lot of time to talk about how

whenever Collegiate Assessor Kovalev was being shaved, and said to him, according to
custom: "Ivan Yakovlevitch, your hands do smell!" he would retort: "But why should they
smell?" and, when the Collegiate Assessor had replied: "Really I do not know, brother, but in
any case they do." (1.18)

Maybe the nose escaped to get away from having to be so close to this guy's smelly hands
every morning! Or, okay, maybe the nose escaped to teach Collegiate Assessor Kovalev a
lesson about not being such a jerk.

Too bad it didn't work.

NEWSPAPER ADVERTISING CLERK

Character Analysis

Let's hear it for freedom of the press: the clerk is probably the most sensible guy in the whole
story. When Kovalev tries to place an ad, the clerk attempts at first to make heads or tails out
of Kovalev's crazy story until dismissing the whole nose thing as way too sensationalist for the
newspaper's reputation.

68
But check out the way his reactions are echoed by others later in the story, creating the kind of
repetition that ups the dream-like ante Gogol is after.

First, when he hears Kovalev's story, the clerk turns it into something that makes more realistic
sense:

"Has a household serf of yours absconded, then?"

"[] No, indeed! It is my nose that has absconded from me."

"Mister Nose, a Mister Nose? Indeed a strange name, that! Then has this Mr. Nose robbed you
of some money?" (2.58-60)

You know who else immediately turns the nose into a person? Madame Podtochina in her
letter, where she writes: "I assure you that I have never at any time allowed the civil servant
whom you mention to enter my houseeither in disguise or as himself." (2.133)

And second, the clerk eventually decides not to run Kovalev's ad even when he realizes that
the nose thing is for reals, because

it might injure the paper's reputation. [] only last week a similar case occurred. One day a civil
servant brought us an advertisement as you have done. [] all that it seemed to signify was
the running away of a poodle. Yet what was it, do you think, in reality? Why, the thing turned
out to be a libel, and the "poodle" in question a cashier. (2.67-69)

Basically, he is saying that it's all too TMZ for his paper, which tries to stay away from scandals
and stuff. And that's just what the nose turns into: a celebrity hounded by the curious.

MADAME PODTOCHINA

Character Analysis

Ok, she's really more of a plot point than an actual character in the story. The mom of the girl
that Kovalev has been flirting with but not proposing marriage to (back in the day when you
didn't make eyes at a girl you weren't going to marry), Madame Podtochina is all up in
Kovalev's business trying to make the match happen.

But here's something funny: Kovalev may be after the daughter, but it's the mom who keeps
popping up. In a way, it's like she's the one seducing Kovalev into the family.

Add in the fact that he's 42 years old, and so probably way closer in age to Madame
Podtochina than her daughter (since in those days dudes used to marry really young women,
we're going to guess the daughter is in her early 20s at the oldest), and what we've got is a

69
weirdly dark sexual undercurrent that doesn't really get spelled out in the story but is totes
there nonetheless.

Check out the "Nose" part of Shmoop's "Symbolism, Imagery, Allegory" section for more on
this angle.

Simbolizam, imaginarno, alegorija

Symbolism, Imagery, Allegory

Yes, fair enough, we did already tell you that the nose was a character in the story but it's
pretty clearly also some kind symbol or allegory or something. A man can't just suddenly
develop a sentient nose without it meaning something, can he?

Ok, we're just going to throw it out therethe nose is totally a phallic symbol. And it's not just
Shmoop that needs to get its mind out of the gutter. This is a really common interpretation,
and don't try to tell us it didn't occur to you! In fact, there's even an edition of the story that
takes out the word "nose" altogether and replaces it with just a blank "," so readers can just
go ahead and throw some other body parts into the mix themselves.

And once you have the whole nose = penis (yeah, we said it) thing in your head, some of the
story makes a lot more sense. Check out what happens when Kovalev loses the nose. He's
embarrassed to walk around, sure, but what is he really prevented from doing? Hitting on the
ladies:

Presently the agreeable swish of ladies' dresses began to be heard. [] a slender maiden in a
white frock which outlined delightfully a trim figure [] Kovalev moved a little nearer, pulled up
the collar of his shirt, straightened the seals on his gold watch-chain, smiled, and directed
special attention towards the slender lady as, swaying like a floweret in spring, she kept raising
to her brows a little white hand with fingers almost of transparency. And Kovalev's smiles
became broader still when peeping from under the hat he saw there to be an alabaster,
rounded little chin, and part of a cheek flushed like an early rose. But all at once he recoiled as
though scorched, for all at once he had remembered that he had not a nose on him, but
nothing at all.(2.28-29)

Surely you can judge what it is for me meanwhile to be lacking such a conspicuous portion of
my frame? [] every Thursday I am due to call upon Madame Chektareva (wife of the State
Councilor); whilst Pelagea Grigorievna Podtochina (wife of the Staff-Officer, mother of a pretty
daughter) also is one of my closest acquaintances. So, again, judge for yourself how I am
situated at present. In such a condition as this I could not possibly present myself before the
ladies named. (2.63)

70
The problem here isn't that they'll think he's deformed. Instead, he's worried about propriety,
that the women will see him as less of a man or as not even a man at all. That strikes us as
pretty striking evidence.

The clincher, though? When Kovalev gets the nose back, he goes around comparing its size to
that of other dudes. He might as well be whipping out a ruler.

SNUFF

Symbolism, Imagery, Allegory

Some of the funniest moments in the story are about snuff. Okay, hands up: who doesn't
actually know what on earth snuff is?

No worries. Snuff was yet another way to get a hit of nicotine back in the day. Also called snuff
tobacco, it was a powder that dudes would snort. And we say dudes, we mean dudesit was
basically social suicide for a lady to do it.

Thing is, the whole culture of how you snorted the snuff, and how ornate your snuff box was,
and how much you paid for the type you snorted, and how well you handled people asking
you for some, became a huge marker of your social class. (This is back when nicotine was still
cool. But, duh, Shmoopers: it's not.)

So of course Kovalev uses snuffbecause, duh, he's all about image. And of course as soon as
he is nose-less, he's out of luck in the snuff department. Check out this hilarious exchange in
the newspaper ad clerk's office:

Even the clerk seemed touched with the awkwardness of Kovalev's plight, and wishful to
lighten with a few sympathetic words the Collegiate Assessor's depression.

"I am sorry indeed that this has befallen," he said. "Should you care for a pinch of this? Snuff
can dissipate both headache and low spirits. Nay, it is good for hemorrhoids as well."

And he proffered his box-deftly, as he did so, folding back underneath it the lid depicting a
lady in a hat.

Kovalev lost his last shred of patience at the thoughtless act, and said heatedly:

"How you can think fit thus to jest I cannot imagine. For surely you perceive me no longer to
be in possession of a means of sniffing? Oh, you and your snuff can go to hell! Even the sight
of it is more than I can bear. I should say the same even if you were offering me, not wretched
birch bark, but real rape." (2.81-85)

71
In the space of a few sentences, we learn everything we need to know about the subculture of
snuff users:

(1) Before the b.s. was finally debunked and revealed, tobacco has always been sold as some
kind of medicinal thing, which Gogol clearly thinks is ridiculous. The clerk says it works for
headaches and hemorrhoids, which well, can you think of a medicine that would treat
internal head issues and external butt ones as well? Yeah. We can't, either.

(2) The clerk fancies himself a bit of a dandy. He's got a snuff box with a picture of "a lady in a
hat" on the lid and he opens it "deftly" with some kind of cool move. All meant to show that
he's a man of the world, nudge nudge wink wink.

(3) Kovalev will use anything as an excuse for one-upsmanship. Sure, he's got a genuine beef
here. After all he really can't possibly use the snuff, however nice the clerk is being. Because
no nose. But still, his impulse is to show himself to be an even greater connoisseur of snuff: he
complains that the clerk is offering him some crappy "birch bark" type of snuff and not black
rape, an expensive aged and brined version from Paris.

Civil Service Uniforms

This is one Shmoop can't entirely puzzle out, so we'll throw it out to you. Why does Kovalev
buy himself a "ribbon of an order" (3.22) for no apparent reason at the end of the story? Order
ribbons were those wide grosgrain ribbons officers would wear draped around their uniforms
to show off some title or award they got from the tsar.

But usually you'd only buy one if you, you know, actually got some kind of award or title to
display. You couldn't just parade around in a ribbon of an order for no reason. People would
know, and it was probably even against the law. This is basically like making yourself a fake
university diploma in Microsoft Word and hanging on your bedroom wall. Weird, and not
likely to hold up on a resume.

So what gives? Why does he buy the thing? Is he expecting to be promoted? Does he feel like
the return of the nose is an award in and of itself? Is he trying to make the nose stay by upping
the ambition ante?

ANALYSIS: SETTING

Where It All Goes Down

Realistic St. Petersburg vs. Magically Realistic St. Petersburg

72
So, yeah, before we start, let's talk a little bit about St. Petersburg. It was founded by Peter the
Great, who was basically Russia's superhero tsar, using his power to modernize and
industrialize the huge country.

While killing and basically enslaving a whole bunch of people in the process, of course.

But in any case, at the time when Gogol is writing, St. Petersburg is Russia's capital: home to
the tsar, seat of government, and cultural and artistic center of the country.

This is why many of the story's realistic touches make perfect sense. On the political side, we
get Kovalev's totally reasonable decision to move to St. Petersburg to push forward with his
civil service careerwhich, yeah, if you wanted to be in national politics in the U.S., you'd
move to Washington, D.C.

And we get his equally sensible habit of walking around Nevsky Prospekt every daythat was
the big street where all the fancy people came to see and be seen.

On the cultural side, we get the funny juxtaposition of the grody barber trying to throw the
nose into the river Neva from Isaakievskiy Bridge, the very first built across that river when St.
Petersburg was first founded. And we also see that one of the confrontations between the
nose and Kovalev is set in Great Gostiny Dvor, a huge fancy-shmancy shopping pavilion in the
middle of the city.

So, "The Nose" is at least partly set in a real, 19th-century version of St. Petersburg. But there's
more than enough weirdness to make us wonder what's really up. Sure, this is a St. Petersburg
with all your tourist landmarks. But it's also apparently a St. Petersburg where people see a
giant nose walking around like a person and think, "Celebrity!":

[It] began to be said that the nose of Collegiate Assessor Kovalev could be seen promenading
the Nevsky Prospekt at three o'clock, or when a crowd of curious sightseers gathered there.
Next, someone declared that the nose, rather, could be beheld at Junker's store, and the
throng which surged thither became so massed as to necessitate a summons to the police. []
Next, word had it that the nose was walking, not on the Nevsky Prospekt, but in the Taurida
Park, and, in fact, had been in the habit of doing so for a long while past, so that even in the
days when Khozrev Mirza had lived near there he had been greatly astonished at the freak of
nature. This led students to repair thither from the College of Medicine, and a certain eminent,
respected lady to write and ask the Warden of the Park to show her children the phenomenon,
and, if possible, add to the demonstration a lesson of edifying and instructive
tenor. (2.136-138)

Here, suddenly, our little tour of the city turns into a crazy paparazzi-off as everyone tries to
get to the latest place where the nose is supposedly hanging out. And just check out how

73
many actual real-life places get name-checked in that passage and sucked into the story's
dreamscape mirror version of the city. Here's our question: do all these real places make the
setting seem more or less real?

ANALYSIS: NARRATOR POINT OF VIEW

Who is the narrator, can she or he read minds, and, more importantly, can we trust her or him?

Third Person (Limited Omniscient); First Person (Peripheral Narrator)

Third Person

Pretty straightforward narration here. We get a standard-sounding narrator who sticks closely
to the head of the main character, Kovalev. He mostly doesn't clue us into what other
characters are thinking, so we learn about them from how they talk to Kovalev and what he
ends up thinking about them.

But there are also some weird limits to the narrator's knowledge. The first two sections of the
story both end mid-sentence with a variation on this little bizarro statement: "Further events
here become enshrouded in mist. What happened after that is unknown to all men" (1.31).

Which, huh? Usually the only thing that a third-person limited narrator doesn't know is what's
happening in the heads of secondary characters. This thing with not knowing the plot? Well,
that points to a weirder snag.

First Person

And yeahhere's the snag. In the third section of the story, the narrator is revealed to be
(spoiler alert!) just a guy who has been picking this story up from newspaper articles or gossip
or whatever? Either way, suddenly we get to meet him in all of his confused-and-angry-man
glory:

how came Kovalev not to know that one ought not to advertise for a nose through a
newspaper? Not that I say this because I consider newspaper charges for announcements
excessive. No, that is nothing, and I do not belong to the number of the mean. I say it because
such a proceeding would have been gauche, derogatory, not the thing. And how came the
nose into the baked roll? And what of Ivan Yakovlevitch? Oh, I cannot understand these points
absolutely I cannot. And the strangest, most unintelligible fact of all is that authors actually
can select such occurrences for their subject! I confess this too to pass my comprehension, to
But no; I will say just that I do not understand it. In the first place, a course of the sort

74
never benefits the country. And in the second placein the second place, a course of the sort
never benefits anything at all. I cannot divine the use of it. (3.23)

It's like he's been telling us this story all along, skipping over the mysterious parts he doesn't
understand, but then suddenly and out of nowhere he just throws up his hands and is all, "ugh,
this story is just too crazy for me. Forget all this nonsense!"

ANALYSIS: GENRE

Magical Realism

So how exactly do you figure out when you're reading magical realism and not some other
genre that's got weird stuff in it, like fairy tales or sci fi? This might come as a bit of shock, but
the very first thing to do is to see if there are magical or supernatural elements in the thing.
(Hint: a nose walking around living its own life counts as a supernatural element.)

Now, once you've found your magic thing, the next thing to do is to eliminate the markers of
other genres. Are there fairy tale creatures there? Dragons, witches, that sort of thing? No? Ok,
scratch off fantasy and fairy tale. Next, are there wise, talking animals or some inanimate
objects teaching you right from wrong? Not so much? Ok, then you're not dealing with a
parable or a fable. Finally, is it set in some distant future where the technology is so advanced
it might as well be magic? Yeah, not in this one, so it's not hard or soft science fiction either.

The final test is probably the most subjective. Take a good look at your text and try to
eliminate the one magical thing. Is the story as realistic as possible in every other way? Now,
put the magic thing back and take one last look. Do the characters in the story react to the
magical as some crazy insanity-causing nonsense, like we would in the real world? Or do they
just shrug it off as nothing to write home about?

In this story, for example, there is a nose just walking around like a person. And also there is a
guy walking around with no nose on his face and no mark that shows that a nose ever existed
there. Now, if you saw either of these things on your street, you would yeah, freak out. But in
Gogol's world? Everyone just gives it a "meh." And, bingothat's magical realism.

ANALYSIS: TONE

Take a story's temperature by studying its tone. Is it hopeful? Cynical? Snarky? Playful?

Journalistic, Indifferent, Sarcastic

75
Don't you feel like the narrator really has it in for pretty much all the characters in this story?
Like, everyone single person he ends up describing gets a good punch square in the jaw just
for existing? That, friends, is called sarcasm. And this story? It's dripping with it.

A good example of this is the narrator's treatment of the barber Ivan Yakovlevitch. The
narrator literally can't help mocking him every time he comes up in the story. First of all, as he
sits down to eat, the narrator says that he "donned a jacket over his shirt for politeness's sake"
(1.5).

Now, it's true, the 19th century was a time when people were a little more buttoned up. No
sagging your jeans down to your ankles in the 1830s. But this guy is so clearly gross and dirty,
so clearly totally not a gentleman, that this jacket thing is just making fun. Same when he goes
to throw the nose out into the river, and the narrator calls him a "worthy citizen" (1.19). Um,
yeah. He's not worthy of anything and he's for sure not such a great citizenthat description
is clearly totally tongue in cheek.

And then sometimes, the narrator isn't even subtle about it. Check out lines like "like every
decent Russian tradesman, Ivan Yakovlevitch was a terrible drunk" (1.18). Okay, sure, this calls
Ivan out. But it also makes fun of every single other small-business guy. And not only that, but
by using the word "decent," what he's saying is that they all see being drunks as totally
necessaryeven good! Now that is a body slam of an insult.

ANALYSIS: WRITING STYLE

Detailed, Descriptive, Involved

In an early draft of this story, Gogol planned for the whole thing to be Kovalev's dream. Well, it
seems like he went overboard in the rewrite, because he crammed realistic and specific details
into every description as possible. Dreams are vague and strange and ambiguous, right? So
what's less dreamlike than really getting in to the nitty-gritty aspect of everything?

And that goes double for the most dream-like element in the storythe nose itself. Every time
we encounter it, we get drowned in details. The nose feels hard to the touch, it's got a zit on it
on the left side, and when Kovalev finally sees it, we get such a long and complicated
explanation of what it looks like and what it's doing that the nose ends up being the most
described character in the whole story:

a door of the carriage opened, and there leapt thence, huddling himself up, a uniformed
gentleman, and that uniformed gentleman ran headlong up the mansion's entrance-steps,
and disappeared within. And oh, Kovalev's horror and astonishment to perceive that the
gentleman was none other than his own nose! [ ] It was clad in a gold-braided,

76
high-collared uniform, buckskin breeches, and cockaded hat. And slung beside it there was a
sword, and from the cockade on the hat it could be inferred that the Nose was purporting to
pass for a State Councilor. It seemed now to be going to pay another visit somewhere. At all
events it glanced about it, and then, shouting to the coachman, "Drive up here," reentered the
vehicle, and set forth. (2.11)

We know exactly how it's dressed, even down to color and fabric. We know not just that it's
moving around, but that it's moving like a guy who is in a big hurry (it "ran headlong," it
"leapt"). We even know how it treats its underlings by the way it's not too angry but not too
polite with the coachman. And none of the description is in any way surprised or concerned
with the logistics of a nose doing any of these things. In fact, the way the info is laid out for us,
it's easy to forget we're not talking about a person at all!

Like, how on earth can that thing be small enough to fit on Kovalev's face, but big enough to
wear a State Councilor's outfit? Andwe just have to askout of what part of its anatomy
does it talk?

ANALYSIS: WHAT'S UP WITH THE TITLE?

Sometimes titles are a little mysterious, trying to push readers into finding that one reference
somewhere in the text that explains just what the author meant, or doing some independent
research to figure out what ancient bit of wisdom the title is referring to.

Not here. You don't have to read far to figure out that "The Nose" is named after the single
most memorable thing in the story. Actually, though, the title is so no-nonsense, and even
maybe a little boring, that it's like a deadpan joke for how crazy the story about the nose will
actually end up being.

Oh, and for what it's worth? The word "nose" in Russian is "nos" (), while the word for
"dream" is "son" (). So maybe there's a little bit of wordplay going on there as well.

ANALYSIS: WHAT'S UP WITH THE ENDING?

Okey-doke, let's start with a little summary of just what happens at the end of the story, shall
we? The nose is back on Kovalev's face, and Kovalev is back to his old life. Nothing much has
changed for him besides the fact that he now has yet one more thing to feel all smug and
self-satisfied aboutthe size of his nose. Meanwhile, the narrator grows totally disgusted with
the nonsense that is the story and starts to rant about all the ludicrous plot holes.

So what are we to make of this? Well, to be honest, Shmoop's not really sure, and there's no
way to know for sure. (We think that's kind of the point.) However, we'll throw out one idea:

77
maybe the thing that really makes the narrator bonkers is the very fact that Kovalev totally
doesn't change in any way despite having this big experience.

Think about it: usually stories follow a character from A to B. Someone starts out one way, has
some kind of experience, and comes out of it a totally different way. Sometimes the journey is
longerA to B to C, for example. But it's not too common to see a character have a
life-changing experience and then go about his business like nothing ever happened.

Not in "The Nose." Here, Kovalev seemingly learns nothing about himself or life or whatever
from his two noseless weeks. That certainly seems like enough of a provocation to frustrate a
narrator who's really been giving him the business during the whole story.

ANALYSIS: PLOT ANALYSIS

Most good stories start with a fundamental list of ingredients: the initial situation, conflict,
complication, climax, suspense, denouement, and conclusion. Great writers sometimes shake
up the recipe and add some spice.

The Noseless Man

So, have you heard the one about the guy who wakes up without a nose? And is all
embarrassed and stuff about what his coworkers and semi-girlfriend are going to think? No?
Well, that's what happens here to our friend Collegiate Assessor Kovalev. This bit about waking
up without a nose gives us the background info on the situation, so we're prepared for all the
wacky hijinks that this guy and his nose are going to get up to.

Rising Action

Adventures of a Nosy Fellow

During the rising action, our intrepid and noseless protagonist encounters conflicts and
complications. Like, Kovalev is shocked to realize that his nose is not only leading a separate
life, but has already climbed higher in the civil service. In fact, he's so high up that Kovalev has
trouble speaking to him. And the kicker? The nose totally denies being Kovalev's nose at all.

Climax

Missing, Reward: One Nose

Not knowing what else to do, Kovalev decides to put an ad in the paper about it. When that
fails, he goes to the police. When that also fails, he goes home only to have a cop bring the
nose to him. But this fails also because it just won't stick on his face. You know this is the climax

78
because this is the absolute worst that things get. We have no idea how the story's going to
resolve: is he going to get his nose back? Will he ever find out who's responsible? And is he
ever going to be able to take snuff again?

Falling Action

Noseless Forever, I Guess

Finally, Kovalev gives up his ambitions along with his quest for his nose. He decides to marry
the girl he's been stringing along all this time and realizes that he'll never climb the social
ladder any more. Yep, we're definitely headed on our way down.

Resolution

Is This a Nose I See Before Me?

Two weeks later, Kovalev wakes upand the nose is back on his face. He immediately
becomes his old vain, social-climbing self. He decides not to marry that girl after all, and
generally goes around town snobbing it up. Resolution? Well, the major conflict is over. But
we're not sure that Kovalev actually learned anything from his experience.

ANALYSIS: ALLUSIONS

When authors refer to other great works, people, and events, its usually not accidental. Put on
your super-sleuth hat and figure out why.

This is a story about a disembodied nose and its forlorn former possessor.
Aside from some St. Petersburg tourist attractions, Gogol pretty much sticks to the
folks involved.

THE NOSE QUESTIONS

Bring on the tough stuff - theres not just one right answer.

1. Why is it Kovalev's nose that develops a new life? Why not his arm or his ear? Does the
body part have significance?

2. In early drafts, the story ended with Kovalev waking up and realizing the whole thing
was just a crazy dream. Why did Gogol remove this ending?

3. Does Kovalev learn a lesson from his experience? Is he better or worse off for having
gone through it? How do you know?

79
 4. What would this story sound like from the nose's point of view? What can we tell (if
anything) about the nose's personality? Would it be scared of the barber? How would
it feel about Kovalev?

5. Is it possible to actually imagine what the action of the story might look like, or are the
words and description not actually visual in nature? For example, how big is the nose?
Does it change size? How does it walk or wear clothes? How does it transform from
being in Kovalev's hand to being the doctor?

6. Why does Kovalev decide not to marry that girl after all? Would the nose have
married her?

THE DIARY OF A MADMAN INTRODUCTION

In A Nutshell

You know how people might look at a Van Gogh painting, think about how he went crazy and
cut off his ear, and say, "Yeah, look at all those flipped-out colors. He must have already been
a little unhinged when he painted that"? Well, it's really tempting to read "Diary of a Madman,"
and think, "Of course Nikolai Gogol did such a great job writing about a crazy guy. After all, he
himself completely lost his mind at the end of his life." But in 1835, when this story was
published, Gogol still seemed very far from being the guy who, just before he died, refused to
eat, burned his manuscripts, and claimed the Devil made him do it. He was a young, sane, and
hopeful writer from Ukraine who had just published a few stories, but his most famous
story "The Nose" or his satirical play "The Government Inspector" were still in the works.

This story is written as a diaryit's the "Diary of a Madman" after all, right? And our
diary-writing madman is called Aksenty Ivanovich Poprishchin. If you think the name sounds
like a tongue-twister, you're not aloneeven the eloquent dogs in this story in the story find it
strange.

Wait, what?

Yep, the dogs in this story can speak, read and write, and they do it much better than most
government clerks. At least that's what Poprishchin thinks, and that's just the beginning of his
whole trip into madness.

Poor Poprishchin, like many lowly government clerks toiling away in 19th-century Russia, is
obsessed with social status and really cannot understand why people don't appreciate that he
should be given a higher rank and more Twitter followers than he actually has. The story
follows his gradual descent into insanity after a bunch of failures in life and love.

80
Since we're watching a mental crack-up, Shmoop's summary may seem as hard to follow as
our madman's thinking. So you first might want to loosen your own hold on reality for a few
minutes, read the diary, and enjoy the wild ride. If you're feeling a bit unglued afterward, don't
worrywe promise to put you back together again.

WHY SHOULD I CARE?

Say you're finishing college, and hope to make it aswell, you tell us: the newest SNL
member? HBO show creator? Literary star?

But for now, you just need to get a job and make some dough. So you get an office job
pushing paper around. It's awful, it kills your soul, and you're sitting around bored, embittered,
and really on the verge of insanity. You look around at all the drones you work with and think,
"Ha! One day, I will get out of here! I'll make it big and write something about all this a nd the
whole world will see how they underestimated my awesomeness!"

Well, that's kind of what happened to Gogol. He did manage to get out of his mind-numbing
office jobs, publish a few stories about his homeland, and become an overnight sensation,
with all the celebs wanting a piece of him.

But guess what? He didn't forget that half-crazed moment in the office. He sat down and
wrote "The Diary of a Madman" (but not without doing some research firstcheck out our
section on "Themes: Madness" for more on that). The story became another sensation. So
read it and tell us: if we end up bored, unappreciated, embittered and half-crazy at some
soul-crushing office job, is there light at the end of the tunnel? Or is going insane the only
sane response to a crazy, oppressive world?

THE DIARY OF A MADMAN SUMMARY

How It All Goes Down

The story opens with Aksenty Ivanovich Poprishchin writing in his diary about an adventure
that has just taken place. He is very late to work (did we mention it's a soul-crushing job?). On
the way to the office he sees his director's daughter getting out of a carriage and going into a
clothing store. Poprishchin is instantly infatuated. But he's embarrassed to be seen wearing his
ratty overcoat, so he hides.

Poprishchin hears a little voice, and realizes that the daughter's dog, Medji, and another dog,
Fidele, are talking. He reasons that such things can happen; after all, he's read reports of
talking fish and cows. But when the dogs start talking about writing each other letters, this
stops him cold. At this point, Poprishchin admits he sometimes hears or sees things others
don't, but he still seems to be able to have some rational thoughts.

81
Poprishchin writes in his diary about how much he hates the various people at work.

He hates the section chief for telling him he's an ugly loser.
He hates the treasurer for refusing to give him an advance on his salary.
He hates the lackeys (the servants) for not treating him like a nobleman.
He hates other clerks for not being as sophisticated as he is.

He also writes about his daily routines, which go something like this: show up early or late to
work, sharpen the director's pens, push some paper, leave sometime in the afternoon, go do
something "cultured" like copying poetry or seeing a variety show, maybe stalk the director's
daughter in her apartment, or go home and lie in bed in the dark obsessing about all of the
above.

This routine starts to break down when he decides to get his hands on the dogs' letters. He
goes to the building where Fidele's owner lives, demanding to speak with her dog. He can't
imagine why she's alarmed or why the dog refuses to talk to him. He pushes his way into the
apartment, grabs a bunch of letters in the dog's basket, and leaves. The dog still has nothing
to sayshe bites Poprishchin in the leg.

He starts reading the dogs' letters, hoping to find out more things about his director's social
world and political involvements. He especially wants to get the inside scoop about the
director's daughter. The dogs have a lot to say about all that. They write that the director is a
boring guy but that he just received a ceremonial ribbon (probably from the emperor) and is
feeling pretty good about himself. But the real news is that the daughter has fallen madly in
love and is going to marry a kammerjunker, a hilarious word and a low-ranking member of the
emperor's court. Poprishchin is shocked. He can't imagine what a kammerjunker has that he
doesn't have (um, a title, money, good looks?). This guy can't be anything special; what can
she possibly see in him?

Poprishchin reads in the newspapers that Spain is now without a king because of some trouble
finding an heir. He can't stop obsessing about it. Suddenly, it all makes sense: he, Poprishchin,
is not just a government clerkhe is actually the king of Spain, Ferdinand VIII! He makes
himself a royal robe by cutting up his government uniform, and waits for the Spanish
delegation to arrive to escort him to the Spanish court. He reveals his royal identity to his
housekeeper, who of course is freaked out at the sight of him in his
not-quite-ready-for-Project-Runway king's get-up.

Some time later, he says he has arrived in Spain, which, he tells us, is really the same country as
China. Spain has strange customs: everyone's head is shaved; people constantly beat him with
sticks and drip cold water on his head. He thinks he has fallen into the hands of the Grand

82
Inquisitor. It sounds to us like he is not in Spain (or China for that matter), but actually in an
insane asylum. The diary ends with a couple of jumbled entries and a desperate, hallucinating
Poprishchin pleading with his mother to come save him.

THE DIARY OF A MADMAN SECTION 1: OCTOBER 3 SUMMARY

Aksenty Ivanovich Poprishchin is writing in his diary about an extraordinary adventure

that took place that day. Here is how his day has gone:
The section chief has been telling Poprishchin lately that he has been making such a
mess of the cases he has been working on that the devil himself couldn't sort it out.
Poprishchin confesses in the diary that he went to the office that day only to try to get
an advanced payment from the treasurer, whom he calls "that Jew" and curses out.
Really. Not cool.
Poprishchin writes that working in his department is not profitable. He says people
who work in the provincial government might be worthless, but unlike him, they have
big houses and get better bribes. He says if his job weren't so noble and pure, he
would have quit long ago.
We'd started to wonder where Poprishchin lives, and now we know he lives in a big
city.
Poprishchin writes that he then put on his old overcoat and took an umbrella and
went outside. It's pouring outside and there's nobody in the streets.
He sees his director's carriage drive up to a shop, but the director's daughter, not the
director himself, gets out. He's totally smitten.
Poprishchin says his overcoat is very dirty and old-fashioned, and he tries to hide from
her.
She goes into the shop, but her little lapdog, Medji, is left in the street.
A minute later, Poprishchin hears a little voice that says, "Hello, Medji!" He looks
around and realizes the voice is coming from another dog being walked by two ladies.
Umm
The two dogs are talking and Poprishchin is surprised, but well, these things happen
sometimes.
What really shocks him, though, is that Medji tells the other dog, Fidele, that she wrote
her a letter.
Poprishchin confesses here that lately he has been seeing and hearing things that no
one has ever seen or heard before.
He decides to follow Fidele and the two ladies, who stop in front of a big apartment
building, which is a bit of a dump with many renters of all types living there.

83
 We realize at this point from the street names that he lives in Saint Petersburg. Want
to see the route he takes to follow the dog and the two ladies? Here you go. Thanks,
Internet. FYI: what used to be Meshchansaya Street is now Kazanskaya Street.

THE DIARY OF A MADMAN SECTION 2: OCTOBER 4 SUMMARY

It's a Wednesday, Poprishchin writes. This is how he describes his day:

He gets to work early and sharpens all of his director's pens. And believe it or not, this
was one of the most important tasks of a Russian minor clerk. If he (and always he,
never she) sharpened the pens well, he would have a better shot at a promotion. Sure,
Poprishchin.
Poprishchin says his director must be a very intelligent man because his study is filled
with books in French and German.
Poprishchin also says that the director never talks to him except for a few words about
the weather, but he still thinks the director likes him.
At one-thirty, an event takes place that Poprishchin says no pen can describe. We are
listening, and this better be good
The door opens, and to Poprishchin's great surprise, the director's daughter comes in,
looking magnificent in a white gown. That gaze! That voice!
She asks Poprishchin if her father has been to the office.
He wants to tell her to not punish him, but if it is her will to punish him, to punish him
with her own hand. (And we say under our breath, "Punish? What on earth are you
talking about?")
But instead, he only says to her, "No, ma'am."
She drops her handkerchief (probably just to make him pick it up), and he literally falls
all over himself trying to pick it up and give it to her. She thanks him and leaves.
Yes, folks, this is the event that no pen could describe. Really. Maybe P forgot to
sharpen that one.
Poprishchin goes home and he copies some poetry to entertain himself. Shmoop
figures this is what people did for fun before reality TV or Instagram.
Then he goes out to his director's house hoping to catch a glimpse of his daughter.

THE DIARY OF A MADMAN SECTION 3: NOVEMBER 6 SUMMARY

Poprishchin says he's mad at the section chief because the section chief points out
that Poprishchin is over forty and chasing the director's daughter even through he
doesn't have a kopeck (that's Russian for penny) to his name or any plans for his life.

84
 He rationalizes that he's only forty-two and can still move up the ranks to become a
Colonel or something higher. All he needs are clothes of the latest fashion. There is a
tiny problem, though: he's broke.
If you're starting to wonder why Poprishchin is so obsessed with rank and nobility, it's
probably because he's very close to becoming a true nobleman. He's a Titular
Councillor, which is rank 9 out of 14 in the Russian civil service of the day. This officially
makes him a nobleman, but he can't pass his title along. If he moves up just one rank,
to Collegiate Assessor, he'll be considered a nobleman who can pass on his position
by birth. Being so close to real nobility could make anyone mad, really.

SECTION 4: NOVEMBER 8 SUMMARY

Poprishchin writes that he went to a vaudeville show, which is a kind of variety

program.
He pats himself on the back for being so cultured, unlike his fellow clerks who never
go to the theater. Just one thing: vaudeville isn't all that cultured. Our guess? Gogol is
showing us that Poprishchin is a fool with bad taste who thinks vaudeville is classy.

SECTION 5: NOVEMBER 9 SUMMARY

This doesn't seem like an eventful day.

He just says that he went to the office at eight, he and the section chief ignored each
other, he organized some papers and then left at four.
He passed by the director's house, didn't see anyone, and then lay in bed after dinner.

SECTION 6: NOVEMBER 11 SUMMARY

Poprishchin says he went to the office and sharpened exactly twenty-three pens for
the director and four for his daughter.
He again starts to think about how smart the director must be and what kind of a
refined life he must lead.
Then Poprishchin starts to write in his diary that he likes to peek into the drawing
room in the director's house, where he sees another door opening into what he
believes is his daughter's room. He says he wishes he could see into her bedroom and
starts to fantasize about all the things he would see in there. Great, it turns out we are
reading the diary of a creeper, madman. But, really, Poprishchin seems at worst like
a fool and a creep rather than a madman at this point.

85
 Poprishchin then does something that he has done a few times before in his diary: he
cuts himself short by saying "never mind, never mind, silence." Sounds like he's having
some unmentionable thoughts and tells himself, "Don't go there"
Poprishchin writes that he has decided to get hold of the letters the dogs have been
writing each other. He says he cornered Medji once and asked her to tell him
everything she knows about the director's daughter, but the dog just put her tail
between her legs and walked out the door.
Poprishchin says that he thinks dogs are smarter than humans. (We do love us a pug
or two, but really, P?)

SECTION 7: NOVEMBER 12 SUMMARY

Poprishchin sets out at two o'clock to find and question Fidele the dog.
The streets smell of cabbage (a Russian winter favorite), which he hates.
He also hates the soot coming out of the artisans' workshops.
He goes to the building that he previously saw Fidele and the two ladies walk into.
He goes up to the sixth floor, rings the bell, and the younger one of the two women
opens the door. He tells her he must have a talk with her dog.
Before the girl can respond, the dog comes out and attacks Poprishchin.
He spots the dog's bed in the corner, runs over, and grabs a bundle of little papers,
noticing on the way out that the girl is extremely frightened.
Cue: rare moment of insight when he says the girl must have taken him for a madman.
He goes home to read through the papers before the evening comes (he can't see
well by candle light), but the house cleaner (whom we learn is Finnish) is washing the
floors, so he goes out to walk and think. In case you're keeping track, he also insults
the Finns.
He hopes to find out all kinds of political information and as a bonus, a thing or two
about "her, who never mind, silence!" (We know he means the director's daughter.)
He finally goes home and lies in bed. Guy spends a lot of time in bed.

SECTION 8: NOVEMBER 13 SUMMARY

This diary entry consists of Poprishchin quoting from and commenting on the dogs'
letters. Reading this summary might feel a bit like a tennis match, with our heads
going back and forth between the quotes and the comments.
Poprishchin comments that while the writing is very clear, there is still something
"doggy" about it.

86
 Quote from a letter to Fidele goes something like: Dear Fidele, Why do you have such
a common sounding name? Anyway, I'm glad we're writing each other. (Ah, so it must
be Medji writing this. She herself has a fancy name.)
Poprishchin notes that the punctuation and spellings are correct. Well done, dogs.
Another quote from the letter: It's a blessing to share thoughts, feelings and
impressions.
Poprishchin thinks the dog must be stealing that phrase from a German work that he
once read.
Quote from the letter: I live a life of pleasure. My mistress Sophie loves me to
distraction.
Not surprisingly, this elicits another outburst of excitement and then "never mind,
never mind, silence" from Poprishchin. So now we know that the director's daughter
must be named Sophie.
Quote: I live a life of pleasure and here are the details (example: big, bare bones are
bad; bones from wild game are good).
Poprishchin says this is trivial nonsense and skips a few pages.
Quote: I'm going to tell you about everything that goes on in this house, and
especially about Papa.
Poprishchin's excited to find out about political events and especially about Papa,
a.k.a. the director.
Quote: Papa is a strange man and mostly keeps quiet. He sometimes speaks to
himself. The other day he said, "Will I get it or won't I?" A week later, he came home
happy. Many gentlemen came to congratulate him. He lifted me up and showed me a
ribbon around his neck. I licked it and it was salty. (A ribbon around the neck? No, no,
it's not a dog collar. Russian nobility would receive ribbons as a sign of recognition for
a commendable deed.)
Poprishchin doesn't like the way the dog writes. And he notes that Papa must be
ambitious. He keeps reading.
Finally, here's the part about Sophie, the director's daughter.
Quote: My mistress Sophie was going to a ball and was very excited, almost to the
point of being angry. She came back home at six in the morning and looked pale and
skinny, as if she hadn't eaten anything. (Regular readers of People magazine will
immediately recognize that not much has changed since 19th-century Russia.)
Poprishchin comments that the style of this letter is very uneven and that that proves
that it is written by a dog and not a man.

87
 Quote from another letter: Spring is approaching and I have many dogs interested in
me. How ugly and low-class some of them are! Especially that Great Dane. But I am
into one suitor, Tresor, who climbs our fence.
Poprishchin calls these trifles and skips a page.
Quote: Sophie was sewing when a lackey announced that a guy by the name of
Teplov was here. He came in. He has dark hair, dark eyes and is a kammerjunker. (Dark
hair and dark eyes sounds exotic for Russia, but what is a kammerjunker? It means
"gentleman of the bedchamber" in German. But it's also the name of the lowest rank
of the imperial court, which counts for a lot.) Sophie and Teplov talked about
nonsense relating to the ball. When I compare my suitor Tresor with Teplov, I don't
see what Sophie finds in Teplov.
Poprishchin thinks there must be something wrong. How could a kammerjunker
enchant Sophie?
Quote: If she likes that silly Teplov, soon she'll be falling for the clerk who sits in Papa's
study. If only you knew how ugly he is! He is like a turtle in a sack.
Poprishchin wonders who that clerk might be.
Quote: He has the strangest last name. And he always sharpens Papa's pens. His hair
looks like hay and Papa uses him as his servant. Sophie laughs at this guy.
Poprishchin finally gets that the dog is writing about him. He blames the section chief
for bad-mouthing him to Sophie.
Quote from the third letter: I am sorry for not having written you for so long. I've been
in love. The kammerjunker comes every day now. Papa is very happy. There will be a
wedding soon because Papa wants to marry Sophie off to a kammerjunker or a
general.
Poprishchin says he can't take it anymore and tears the dog's letters to shreds.

SECTION 9: DECEMBER 3 SUMMARY

Three weeks later, and Poprishchin is still fuming about the wedding. He says just
because Teplov is a kammerjunker, it doesn't mean he's anything special. He is still
only a human being. He starts to wonder why he himself is still only a titular councillor.
Maybe, he thinks, he's actually a count or a general, but only seems to be a titular
councillor. After all, stranger things have happened.
What if he showed up in a general's uniform one day? He fantasizes about what the
director and Sophie would think of him then.

SECTION 10: DECEMBER 5 SUMMARY

88
 Poprishchin suddenly starts to write about world politics. He says he was reading the
newspapers and something strange is going on in Spain.
The Spanish throne is empty and they can't find an heir.
Maybe a Dona (a female member of the royal family) will ascend the throne, but
Poprishchin thinks that's ridiculous. They need a king.
He thinks that the king is probably hidden somewhere and will eventually emerge.

SECTION 11: DECEMBER 8 SUMMARY

Poprishchin says he was about to go to the office, but stayed in bed thinking about
the situation in Spain.
He is completely shaken up by the events in Spain. He can't stop thinking about it. He
says he even threw a couple of plates on the floor and broke them, which freaked out
his housekeeper.

SECTION 12: THE YEAR 2000, 43RD OF APRIL SUMMARY

Poprishchin says that today is a greatly solemn day. Check out the date of the diary
entrywe're not sure we'd use the word "solemn."
The king of Spain has been found. He, Poprishchin, is the king of Spain!
He says it came to him in a flash of lightning. How could he ever have thought he was
only a titular councillor?
He now sees everything clearly.
He says he announced to the housekeeper that he is the king of Spain. She was
frightened. Us, too.
He doesn't go to the office. After all, why should the king of Spain be pushing papers
and fixing pens?

SECTION 13: THE 86TH OF MARTOBER. BETWEEN DAY AND NIGHT SUMMARY

Poprishchin (or should we call him the king of Spain?) says his manager came to visit
him to tell him to go to the office. He hasn't been to work for over three weeks.
He says he agreed to go to the office just as a joke, didn't apologize for not showing
up before, and didn't touch the papers that were placed in front of him.
When someone hands him a paper to be signed, he writes "Ferdinand VIII."
He says there was a "reverent silence" (stunned silence, more likely), and he walks out,
headed to the director's apartment.
The director isn't home, but his daughter is. Uh-oh.

89
 Poprishchin bursts into her room. He doesn't tell her he is the king of Spain, but
instead tells her they'll end up together even though their enemies will try to keep
them apart. She doesn't exactly seem thrilled at this news. In fact, she backs away from
him.
Poprishchin then comments in his diary that he's finally figured out what women are
and who they really lovethe Devil. Great idea, Poprishchin. We'll try that next time
we're rejected.
It's all the doing of some barber on Gorokhovaya Street (a main street in Saint
Petersburg) who has been scheming, with the help of a midwife, to spread
Mohammedanism. (That's another name for Islam.) It must have been just peachy to
be a Muslim in the Russian Empire.
He claims the majority of France is now Muslim as a result of this scheme.

SECTION 14: DATE NONE. THE DAY HAD NO DATE SUMMARY

Poprishchin reports that he walked incognito on Nevsky Prospect, the main avenue in
Saint Petersburg.
The emperor drives by, and Poprishchin, like everyone else, takes off his hat. He
doesn't want to reveal his "true" identity in the crowd.
He will instead present himself at court, but he can't do this because he doesn't have
the royal attire.
He says the tailors are fools these days, so he decides to cut up his new uniform and
make royal attire out of it.

SECTION 15: DON'T REMEMBER THE DATE. THERE WAS NO MONTH, EITHER. DEVIL KNOWS
WHAT THERE WAS SUMMARY

Poprishchin puts on his royal robe. His housekeeper screams at the sight of him. We'd
probably scream, too, if we saw what he looked like.
But he decides to wait for the deputies from Spain to arrive before presenting himself
at court.

SECTION 16: THE 1ST SUMMARY

Poprishchin is shocked by the slowness of the deputies and is wondering what could
have held them up.
He goes to the post office to ask whether the deputies had arrived. But the postmaster
says no, there are no deputies here.

90
SECTION 17: MADRID. THIRTIETH FEBRUARIUS SUMMARY

Poprishchin writes that he is now in Spain. It happened so fast that he hasn't been able
to make sense of it yet.
He says the deputies came with a carriage and they made it to the Spanish border in
half an hour.
He says Spain is a strange land and in the first room, there are a lot of people with
shaved heads. You know what this means, right? Yep, he's in an insane asylum. They
used to shave the inmates' heads upon arrival.
Poprishchin says that the "lord chancellor" (probably a guard) pushed him into a room
and told him he would beat him if he kept calling himself King Ferdinand. Poprishchin
insists he is the king, and is beaten.
He's left alone and starts to think about world affairs. He's really on a roll here.
He realizes that China and Spain are the same country. Shmoop will keep that in mind
for its next Geography Learning Guide.
Poprishchin says he's upset by something that's going to happen the next day. At
seven o'clock the earth is going to sit on the moon. This troubles him because the
moon is made in Hamburg out of tarred rope and olive oil and so very fragile that
humans can't live on it, only noses.
He tries to talk to the other men in the asylum, but then the "lord chancellor" comes in
and hits him with a stick, which he thinks must be a popular custom in Spain.

SECTION 18: JANUARY OF THE SAME YEAR, WHICH CAME AFTER FEBRUARY SUMMARY

Poprishchin says he is confused by the customs in Spain.

They shave his head and then start dripping cold water on it. Another typical therapy
they gave to asylum inmates back in the day.
He guesses that he has probably fallen into the hands of the Inquisition.
He suspects French involvement in this, but the French must in fact be under the
influence of the English. Hmmm. We call this a "persecution complex."

SECTION 19: THE 25TH SUMMARY

He says the "grand inquisitor" came to his room today, but he hid under a chair. The
man calls him by his real name first, but he doesn't get out.
The man then says "Ferdinand VIII, the king of Spain," but he thinks it's a trick and still
doesn't get out. He gets beaten anyway.

91
 Poprishchin writes that he learned that every rooster has his Spain, and it is under his
feathers.

MADMAN SECTION 20: 34 FEBRUARY, THE YEAR 349 SUMMARY

Poprishchin says he can't stand it any longer. What has he done to deserve these
beatings and water torture?
He imagines himself flying away to some fantastical landscape, where he sees his
house in the village with his mother sitting inside. He begs her to shed a tear on her
son's sick head and save him. We feel like doing the same right now.
He ends his last entry with a question: do you know that the Dey of Algiers has a
bump just under his nose? (The Dey of Algiers was the name of the ruler in Algiers
under the Ottoman Empire.)
And that's that.

THE DIARY OF A MADMAN THEME OF MADNESS

If you're thinking, "Duh, what could be a more obvious theme than madness in 'The Diary of a
Madman'," well, yeah, it's obvious. The devil is in the details, though. In fact, the depiction of
madness in this story is so well done that it's considered to be one of the earliest and most
accurate depictions of schizophrenia in literary history. Really! The other thing about madness
in the story is that not everything is crazy all the time. Our madman Poprishchin goes from
being fairly sane but foolish to being fairly insane but sometimes logical, which makes us ask:
what does being mad really mean, anyway?

Questions About Madness

1. Which aspects of Poprishchin's madness make it seem more believable, and which
less?

2. What would change in our experience of the story if the title didn't make reference to
madness?

3. What would change in our experience of Poprishchin's madness if it weren't written in

the first person?

4. Assuming dogs don't write letters or keep a bundle of them in their baskets, how
could Poprishchin have actually found out all the things he supposedly finds out from
the dogs' letters?

Chew on This

92
Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

The madman plus diary formula only works if you mention madness in the title.

This story really gets us inside the head of a madman.

This just in from Shmoop's psychological consultant: Even people who are seriously mentally ill
aren't irrational 100% of the time. You could think you're the King of Spain or Elvis but still
remember your phone number or recognize your best friend.

THEME OF FOOLISHNESS AND FOLLY

Poprishchin isn't just a madman, but also a fool. It's not always so easy to tell the madness and
the folly apart at the beginningskipping work because you're thinking about Spanish affairs:
foolish or mad or both? But the foolishness is worth noting as its own, separate theme.
Remember, "The Diary of a Madman" is written as a satire, so if our madman were simply mad,
there wouldn't be much to laugh at. When Poprishchin acts foolishly in the relatively saner
parts of the story, it's more okay to laugh at him.

Questions About Foolishness and Folly

1. Poprishchin doesn't create art but consumes it. If he were to consume better art, like
only going to serious theater instead of vaudeville, would he seem less of a fool?

2. Why does Poprishchin consider books in French and German a sign of intelligence?
3. What role does hope play in Poprishchin's crossover from folly to madness?
4. How does sexual frustration and desperation factor into Poprishchin's depiction as a
fool?

Chew on This

Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

Gogol characterizes Poprishchin as a fool by giving him opinions that were commonly held to
be foolish by the upper classes of the time.

Poprishchin's foolishness has less to do with his actual opinions actually are, and more to do
with the fact that he's so inflexible with them.

THEME OF SOCIETY AND CLASS

"The Diary of a Madman" takes place in the capital of the Russian Empire of the 19th century,
also known as the capital of rank-obsession, where your social standing relative to the nobility

93
more or less determined your fate. Poprishchin himself is technically nobility, but his is not of
the hereditary kind, so it doesn't count for much. If he had money, he could worm his way into
nobility as he accuses others of doing, but he doesn't have a kopeck to his name. When
someone of a better standing snatches the woman he wants, ending any hope for a higher
social status, he starts to really lose his already shaky grip on reality.

Questions About Society and Class

1. Does Poprishchin (pre-madness) represent "everyman"? Why or why not?

2. How do the things Poprishchin comes to understand about social ranks and titles
make it possible for him to discover he is the king of Spain?

3. What qualities are attributed to the higher classes? Lower?

Chew on This

Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

If Poprishchin were of a better rank or wealthier, it would have been possible (or at least easier)
for him to stay sane.

This story argues that class is based on appearances, and has no basis in substance.

THEME OF PREJUDICE

How do you make sure no one reading your story has feelings of pity for the protagonist?
Make him mad and foolish. That might not be enough, though. How about making him a
bigot with a long list of prejudices? A bit of racism, a dash of anti-Semitism, some xenophobia,
a dose of classism, plus province-bashing, topped with misogyny. Poprishchin seems like he
has a bias against everyone who crosses his path, and this makes him very hard to pity. But
then, how does one go about separating Poprishchin's prejudices from those of the author?

Questions About Prejudice

1. Can we treat Poprishchin's prejudices only as part of his characterization and clear the
author of charges of prejudice?

2. In order to get published, this story still had to make it through the censors. How do
you think that might have affected the selection of prejudices Poprishchin harbors?

94
 3. Societal prejudices change over time. Is it possible to read something historical like
this story and still understand the role prejudices play in it without turning to outside
references?

Chew on This

Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

Because the prejudiced statements in this story are so hyperbolical, one cannot take them
seriously.

The prejudices Poprishchin expresses aren't extreme, but reflect the common prejudices of his
time.

MADNESS QUOTES

"No, Fidele, you shouldn't think so," I myself saw Medji say it, "I've been
bow-wow! I've been bow-wow-wow! Very sick." Ah you, pup. I confess, I was
very surprised to hear her speak in human language. But later, when I'd
thought it over properly, I at once ceased to be surprised. Actually, there have
already been many such examples in the world. They say in England a fish
surfaced who spoke a couple of words in such a strange language that
scholars have already spent three years trying to define them and still haven't
found anything out. I also read in the papers about two cows that came to a
grocer's and asked for a pound of tea. (1.2)

So this is the first time Poprishchin is saying something obviously crazy. If you were Gogol
writing this story, how would you make sure the people reading it believed the crazy guy?
Well, Gogol himself makes the crazy guy say something totally sensible like "I confess, I
was very surprised" and then shows him trying to make sense of it (but in a really silly
way). Notice the paradox here: how rationally he's discussing a clearly crazy idea. Hey,
have you heard the one about the two cows who walked into a grocer's?

Quote #2

I confess, lately I had begun sometimes to hear and see things no one had
ever seen or heard before. (1.3)

95
 Poprishchin might be hallucinating about dogs speaking, but that doesn't mean he
doesn't realize he's kind of different. The problem is that he would rather believe the
hallucinations than worry about being different. And they're one of the reasons why
psychiatrists think Gogol did a really good job making Poprishchin seem convincingly
mad. Check out "Brain Snacks" for more on that.

Quote #3

I've long suspected dogs of being much smarter than people; I was even
certain they could speak, but there was only some kind of stubbornness in
them. They're extraordinary politicians: they notice every human step. (6.2)

Come on now, 'fess up: sometimes, when you look into the eyes of your uncle's dog
Duke, you also wonder if he's actually smarter than all of us. If he could speak, what
would he say, you wonder. We all have thoughts like this sometimes, and there's nothing
unusual about that.

Poprishchin doesn't stop there, though. When he starts to hallucinate and doesn't know
what to make of it, he remembers these very usual suspicions, and then starts to use
them to rationalize his hallucinations.

Dogs actually do notice every human step. But Poprishchin observes this and sees a
secret meaning: the dogs are psyching us out.

At that moment the dog ran in, barking; I wanted to seize her, but she, vile
thing, almost seized me by the nose with her teeth. I saw her basket in the
corner, however. Aha, just what I need! I went over to it, rummaged in the
straw of the wooden box, and, to my great satisfaction, pulled out a small
bundle of little papers. (7.1)

We're still close to the beginning of the story here. Poprishchin had just one crazy
episode before this, but we still had a tiny glimmer of hope somewhere in our heads that
he might go back to being normal. But then we get to this part and he claims he just
found a bundle of letters in the dog's box. And there go our hopes for his sanity.

96
 But then, wait, he's describing the whole thing in that totally matter of fact way again. So
maybe it is actually happening. Is this all real or is he crazy? Gogol, are you playing with
us?

Quote #5

I suppose the girl took me for a madman, because she was extremely
frightened. (7.1)

Great job noticing that, huh? He just burst into a woman's apartment saying he needs a
word with her dog, rummaged through the dog's basket, took some stuff, got bitten, and
stormed out without saying anything. And this is what he has to say about it? Well, at
least he acknowledges she might have taken him for a madman.

But what's really clear here is that he doesn't think he's acting that strangely. The woman
is frightened but he thinks that's only because she's stupid. (Remember how he calls her
stupid a few lines before this?)

Quote #6

Extremely uneven style. Shows at once that it wasn't written by a man. Begins
properly, but ends with some dogginess. (8.17)

Applying literary analysis to imaginary letters seems pretty crazy.

I was just about to go to the office, but various reasons and reflections held
me back. I couldn't get these Spanish affairs out of my head. [] I confess,
these events so crushed and shook me that I was decidedly unable to busy
myself with anything all day long. Mavra observed to me that I was extremely
distracted at the table. And, indeed, it seems I absentmindedly threw two
plates on the floor, which proceeded to break. (11.1)

Gogol is being spot on again about Poprishchin's mental breakdown. Schizophrenia isn't
just about hallucinations. It also makes you withdrawn and preoccupied with your
thoughtssometimes so much so that the "real" world seems unreal. Take that last
sentence: he says, "it seems" he threw two plates on the floor. He didn't notice himself

97
 doing it, but Mavra later told him he did it. And then, he says, "which proceeded to
break," as if he himself didn't have any role to play in it.

Quote #8

The Year 2000, 43rd of April: This dayis a day of the greatest solemnity!
Spain has a king. He has been found. I am that king. Only this very day did I
learn of it. I confess, it came to me suddenly in a flash of lightning. I don't
understand how I could have thought and imagined that I was a titular
councillor. How could such a wild notion enter my head? It's a good thing no
one thought of putting me in an insane asylum. (12.1)

This is the first entry in the diary with a crazy date. This is Gogol's way of showing that
Poprishchin is really crazy at this point, so that we don't go thinking that he actually
becomes the king of Spain. And then look at the way Poprishchin breaks the news: first,
"he has been found." Passive voice means we don't know who found the king.

And then, "I learn[ed] of it." Okay, so we assume that means someone found the king and
then told Poprishchin about it, right? But then he says, "I confess, it came to me suddenly
in a flash of lightning." Riiiiight. So, that's when we get the truth: Poprishchin himself did
the "finding."

Gogol writes so brilliantly from the perspective of a madman. And that last mention of an
insane asylum: do you think Gogol is doing some foreshadowing or is he just having
some fun?

Quote #9

Strolled incognito on Nevsky Prospect. His Majesty the emperor drove by.
The whole city took their hats off, and I did, too; however, I didn't let on that I
was the king of Spain. I considered it unsuitable to reveal myself right there in
front of everybody; because, first of all, I have to present myself at court. The
only thing holding me up is that I still don't have royal attire. (14.1)

98
 So those wheels of logic are still turning in Poprishchin's head. But the fact that he is
being logical doesn't mean he's connected to reality. Get that? Gogol seems to be
showing something really important here: logic does not equal truth.

Being left alone, I decided to occupy myself with state affairs. I discovered that
China and Spain are absolutely one and the same land, and it is only out of
ignorance that they are considered separate countries. I advise everyone to
purposely to write Spain on a piece of paper, and it will come out China. (17.1)

Cool fact: This one sort of works if you write "Spain" in the Cyrillic alphabet (),
and then read it as if you were reading something in the Latin alphabet. Also remember
to squint a little. You don't see it? Well, we won't insist on this one. But there's something
else to notice here: Poprishchin playing with words and extracting meanings that aren't
there, another common symptom of schizophrenia.

Quote #11

[The moon] is made by a lame cooper, and one can see that the fool
understands nothing about the moon. He used tarred rope and a quantity of
cheap olive oil, and that's why there's a terrible stench all over the earth, so
that you have to hold your nose. And that's why the moon itself is such a
delicate sphere that people can't live on it, and now only noses live there. And
for the same reason, we can't see our own noses, for they're all in the moon.
(17.1)

Look at how these sentences connect to one another in a chain of reasoning with
connectors like "that's why," "so that," again "that's why," "for the same reason," and "for"
(as in because). Poprishchin is again trying to be logical in some way, but his logic has
nothing to do with reality. Many people suffering from schizophrenia are able to
construct very complicated logical arguments to explain pretty bizarre delusional beliefs.

Quote #12

Today the grand inquisitor came to my room, but, hearing his footsteps from
far off, I hid under a chair. Seeing I wasn't there, he began calling out. First he
shouted, "Poprishchin!" but I didn't say a word. Then: "Aksenty Ivanovich!

99
 Titular councillor! Nobleman!" I kept silent. "Ferdinand VIII, king of Spain!" I
wanted to poke my head out, but then thought, "No, brother, you're not
going to hoodwink me! We know you: you'll pour cold water on my head
again." Nevertheless, he saw me and chased me out from under the chair with
his stick. (19.1)

Poprishchin might be mad, but he is smart enough to know that he shouldn't respond to
this guy (who is probably an evil asylum guard). And then we get a chilling dose of reality:
the mentally ill used to get beaten up and tortured in asylums.

FOOLISHNESS AND FOLLY QUOTES

It's true, our work is noble, it's clean everywhere, as you never see it in the
provincial government: the tables are mahogany, and the superiors address
each formally. Yes, I confess, if it weren't for the nobility of the work, I'd long
since have quit the department. (1.1)

To begin with, tables being mahogany and the superiors addressing each other formally
didn't really make the work more noble and clean. It just made it seem noble and clean.
But then, mistaking style for substance is a classic sign of foolishness.

And Poprishchin's comment that he would have long since quit the department if it
weren't for the nobility of the work is also ridiculous. He doesn't have any money. What
would he have rather done, eat cabbage and work in some sooty workshop?

Quote #2

Our director must be a very intelligent man. His whole study is filled with
bookcases. I read the titles of some of the books: it's all learning, such
learning as our kinds can't even come close to: all in French, or in German.
And to look at his face: pah, such importance shines in his eyes! (2.1)

Um, the director is probably not that intelligent. If we remember what Medji the dog has
to say about the director"[Papa] is a very strange man. He's silent most of the time.
Speaks very rarely" (8.12)he's probably just an ambitious but not exceptionally bright
man. He might have just put some foreign books in his office to seem smart. So that
makes Poprishchin seem doubly foolish and nave for thinking the director is brilliant.

100
 And it's not like Poprishchin has ever talked to the man and actually found out whether
he is smart or not.

(Disturbing insight: Shmoop has just taken a dog's word over Poprishchin's.)

Quote #3

I read the little Bee. What fools these Frenchmen are! So, what is it they want?
By God, I'd take the lot of them and give them a good birching! I also read a
very pleasant portrayal of a ball there, described by a Kursk landowner. Kursk
landowners are good writers. (2.1)

The little Bee, aka The Northern Bee, was a popular political and literary magazine that
Gogol thought was a sign of bad taste. Here, Poprishchin doesn't just read this magazine,
but to add insult to injury (or foolishness to more foolishness), he makes really idiotic
comments about what he reads. Give the French a good birching? Kursk landowners are
good writers? It's actually really funny.

She looked at me, at the books, and dropped her handkerchief. I rushed
headlong, slipped on the cursed parquet, almost smashed my nose,
nevertheless kept my balance and picked up the handkerchief. Heavens, what
a handkerchief! [] She thanked me and just barely smiled, so that her sugary
lips scarcely moved, and after that she left. (2.1)

Poprishchin is so desperate for some attention from Sophie that he makes himself act
and look totally ridiculous. Sophie takes advantage of it to get a good laugh at his
expense.

Quote #5

At home I lay in bed most of the time. Then I copied out some very nice
verses: "I was gone from her an hour, / Yet to me it seemed a year; Life itself
turned me sour, / And the future dark and drear." Must be Pushkin's writing.
(2.1)

101
 These verses are totally sappy, not "very nice." On top of that, they belong not to the
great Pushkin, but to a second rate writer. That makes Poprishchin look pretty ridiculous,
doesn't it?

Quote #6

Furious with the section chief. When I came to the office, he called me over
and started talking to me like this: "Well, pray tell me, what are you up to?"
"What am I up to? Why, nothing," I replied. "Well, think a little better! You're
over fortyit's time you got smart. What are you dreaming of? Do you think I
don't know all your pranks? You're dangling after the director's daughter!
Well, take a look at yourself, only think, what are you? You're a zero, nothing
more. You haven't got a kopeck to your name. Just look at yourself in the
mirror, how can you even think of it!" (3.1)

In case we had any doubts about what Poprishchin looks like in the eyes of his superiors,
here we get to find out directly. According to the section chief, nothing could be more
foolish than Poprishchin's thinking he has a chance with Sophie.

I like going to the theater. As soon as I have a penny in my pocket, I can't

keep myself from going. But there are such pigs among our fellow clerks: they
decidedly will not go to the theater, the clods, unless you give them a free
ticket. (4.1)

Before insulting his fellow clerks for their lack of interest in culture, Poprishchin should
realize that vaudeville isn't exactly highbrow theater.

Quote #8

Today I sat in our director's study and sharpened twenty-three pens for him
[] He likes very much having more pens. Oh, what a head that must be!
Quite silent, but in his head, I think, he ponders everything. I wish I knew what
he thinks about most; what's cooking in that head? [] I've meant several
times to strike up a conversation with His Excellency, only devil take it, my
tongue wouldn't obey me. I'd just say it was cold or warm outside, and be
decidedly unable to say anything else. (6.1)

102
 Sharpening pens was one of the usual tasks of a minor Russian clerk, and it sometimes
did help him get ahead, but because Poprishchin doesn't do his job properly, sharpening
twenty-three pens isn't really going to get him anywhere. And discussing the weather is
probably the world's greatest clich about foolish small-talk.

Quote #9

It seems to me that if she likes that kammerjunker, she'll soon be liking the
clerk who sits in Papa's study. Ah, ma chre, if you only knew how ugly he is. A
perfect turtle in a sack [...] He has the strangest name. He always sits and
sharpens pens. The hair on his head looks very much like hay. Papa always
sends him out instead of a servant. (8.22-24)

Ouch! Even the dogs make fun of Poprishchin. That's sad for him, but good for us. These
comments, along with the ones the section chief makes, give us hints about how others
see him. He's ugly, even the Russians think he has a strange name, all he does is sharpen
pens, and he gets treated like a servant even though he is supposed to be a nobleman.

There are strange doings in Spain. I couldn't even make them out properly.
They write that the throne is vacant and that the officials are in a difficult
position about the selection of an heir, which is causing disturbances. This
seems terribly strange to me. How can a throne be vacant? They say some
doa should ascend the throne. A doa cannot ascend the throne. Simply
cannot. There should be king on a throne. But, they say, there is no king. It
cannot be that there was no king. A state cannot be without a king. (10.1)

Two things are going on here in Poprishchin's reaction to the news in Spain. First, he
takes hierarchies so dead seriously that he cannot think about a throne without a king,
which is of course something that frequently happens in monarchies after a monarch dies
without a suitable heir.

Second, he thinks a woman cannot ascend the throne. Well, he would have been correct
three years before this event. Before 1830, women could not really ascend the Spanish
throne. But in 1830, Ferdinand VI looked at his life and thought: "Hmm, I have two
daughters, and a horrible brother. How do I make sure my brother doesn't get the throne
when I die?" So he changed the law. When he died three years later, a doa (his daughter

103
 Isabella) did in fact ascend the throne. When Poprishchin claims a woman cannot ascend
the throne, he's just being his typical misogynistic self.

SOCIETY AND CLASS QUOTES

She didn't recognize me, and I tried to wrap myself up the best I could,
because the overcoat I had on was very dirty, and old-fashioned besides.
Now everyone wears cloaks with tall collars, and mine is short, overlapping;
and the broadcloth isn't waterproof at all. (1.2)

Poprishchin's comment says the most important thing you need to know about Saint
Petersburg circa 1835: fashion mattered! (Um, and so did cleanliness.) We just wonder
how often overcoat fashions were changing back then. Short collars were so 1833.

Quote #2

Only a gentleman can write correctly. Of course, there are sometimes

merchants' clerks and even certain serfs who can write a bit; but their writing
is mostly mechanicalno commas, no periods, no style. (1.2)

Back when literacy wasn't universal, commas, periods and style were all the rage.
Knowing punctuation rules, being able to spell correctly, and having some sense of
writing style were all good indicators of class. Srsly you guys.

Quote #3

"I know that building," I said to myself, "That's Zverkov's building." What a pile!
And the sorts that live in it: so many cooks, so many out-of-towners! And our
fellow clerkslike pups, on top of the other. I, too, have a friend there, a very
good trumpet player. (1.4)

Apartment buildings with many residents, often of not very high class, were still novelties
in cities. We are to presume here that Poprishchin didn't live in one of these. Putting the
whole place down is his way of feeling a little bit better about his own social status.
Psychologists call this "downward comparison." We all do it.

104
 Am I some sort of nobody, a tailor's son, or a sergeant's? I'm a nobleman. So,
I, too, can earn rank. [] Just give me a Ruch tailcoat, cut in the latest fashion,
and let me have the same kind of necktie as you haveyou won't hold a
candle over me. No incomethat's the trouble. (3.1)

Poprishchin might be a nobleman technically, but he doesn't have a high enough rank to
have hereditary nobility. So he's pretty insecure when it gets to being "somebody." The
whole nobility business got kind of complicated in Imperial Russia when nobility became
tied to civil service. Suddenly, formerly lower class people had some chance to rise
through the ranks and attain nobility. How to rise through the ranks? Well, money and
lots of it helps. So Poprishchin is spelling out that chain reaction leading to success: from
income to the latest fashions, to being treated like a nobleman to actually being one.
Style over substance again.

Quote #5

Went to the theater. [] There was some other vaudeville about some
collegiate registrar, written quite freely, so that I wondered how it passed the
censors, and they said outright that merchants cheat people and their sons
are debauchers and try to worm their way into the nobility. (4.1)

If money meant being able to attain nobility, penniless (or should we say kopeck-less)
people like Poprishchin viewed merchants, who had money, with suspicion and
resentment. Our noses smell something of a revolution in the air (but it will probably take
until 1917 to reach us).

Quote #6

I can't stand cabbage, the smell of which comes pouring out of all the small
shops on Meshchanskaya; besides that, there was such a whiff of hell coming
from under the gates of each house that I held my nose and ran for dear life.
And those vile artisans produce so much soot and smoke in their workshops
that it's decidedly impossible for a gentleman to walk there. (7.1)

105
 Cabbage was the quintessential ingredient of lower class cooking. Poprishchin tries to
distinguish himself from the lower-class artisans by putting them down with something
as essential as the food they eat and their working conditions. As you can see, relations
between the upper and the lower classes weren't exactly ideal.

Then, ma chre, a week later Papa came home very happy. All morning
gentlemen in uniforms kept coming to him, congratulating him for something.
At the table he was merrier than I'd ever seen him before, told jokes, and after
dinner he held me up to his neck and said: "Look, Medji, what's this?" I saw
some little ribbon. (8.12)

The ribbon Medji is talking about here is probably the ribbon of the Order of St. Vladimir,
which would increase the director's class status. The fact that it is on his neck means he
attained third or second class in the order. It's a sure sign that he has hereditary nobility,
which is what Poprishchin wants but will probably never get. See why Sophie wouldn't
even look at Poprishchin?

Quote #8

Several times already I've tried to figure out where all these differences come
from. What makes me a titular councillor? Maybe I'm some sort of count or
general and only seem to be a titular councillor? Maybe I myself don't know
who I am. There are so many examples in history: some simple fellow, not
only not a nobleman, but simply some tradesman or even peasantand it's
suddenly revealed that he's some sort of dignitary, or sometimes even an
emperor. (9.1)

Here, Poprishchin is starting to see that rank or nobility aren't qualities that have anything
to do with a person's essence. And that's quite a keen observation at a time when nobility
still held some fascination and many people believed there was something special about
the royals and the nobles. (Okay, okay, we know, it actually still does.)

Quote #9

They said the director was coming. Many clerks ran up front to show
themselves before him. But I didn't budge. When he was passing through our

106
 section, everybody buttoned up their tailcoats; but Inothing of the sort!
What is a director that I should stand up before himnever! (13.1)

Modern clerks don't really do this when the boss is coming, do they? What are some
present day signs of deference?

all those high-ranking fathers of theirs, all those who fidget in all directions
and worm their way into court and say they're patriots and this and that:
income, income is what these patriots want! Mother, father, Godthey'll sell
them all for money, ambitious Judases! It's all ambition (13.1)

Note the contradiction with what Poprishchin says in 3.1. There, he's claiming he's as
good as noble, but all he needs is money and some good clothes. But now that he knows
he doesn't stand a chance with Sophie, he turns around and blames people like Teplov
who actually make it thanks to their money. Yep, a sore loser.

PREJUDICE QUOTES

In short, I wouldn't have gone to the office if it weren't for the hope of seeing
the treasurer and maybe cajoling at least some pay out of that Jew in advance.
What a creature! For him to hand out any money a month aheadLord God,
the Last Judgment would come sooner! Even if you beg on your life, even if
you're destitutehe won't hand out anything, the hoary devil! (1.1)

The anti-Semitism of this remark isn't just in the negative comments and insults
Poprishchin is making here. It's also in the caricaturization of the Jewish character as a
pitiless treasurer controlling the purse strings. If you look at all the minor characters in
this story (and even at all the ones whom Poprishchin is prejudiced against), the Jewish
treasurer is the most caricaturized among them. Some lit critics think Gogol portrayed a
lot of Jewish characters in his stories in stereotyped ways (source).

Quote #2

In the provincial government, in the civil courts and treasuries, it's quite a
different matter: there, lo and behold, a man squeezes himself into a corner
and scribbles away. His tailcoat is vile, his mug begs to be spat in, but just look
what kind of country house he rents! [] He looks like such a goody-goody,
he talks with such delicacy"Lend me your little knife to trim my little pen"

107
 and then he skins a petitioner so that the man's left in nothing but his shirt.
(1.1)

Poprishchin's comments about the provincial civil servants scream two things: status
anxiety and jealousy. He might be a hotshot city guy, but he is really insecure and wants
to make sure he feels more superior to the guys from the 'burbs. But then he also sits in
his small city apartment and covets their big houses and fancy horse carriages.

Quote #3

And why does she have to go out in such rainy weather! Go on, now, tell me
women don't have a great passion for all these rags. (1.2)

First off, a contradiction: Poprishchin derides Sophie for going shopping even in a
rainstorm, but then he himself later wishes he had proper clothes in 3.1. Putting down
women for paying too much attention to their looks is a classic misogynist move.

What fools these Frenchmen are! So, what is it they want? By God, I'd take the
lot of them and give them a good birching! (2.1)

That's a good way to solve problems in foreign policy, we hear. But seriously, even a silly
comment like is all about prejudice--xenophobia, in this case.

Prejudice

Quote #5

When I got to the sixth floor and rang the bell, a girl came out, not so bad
looking, with little freckles. I recognized her. It was the same one who was
walking with the old lady. She blushed slightly, and I understood at once: You,
my sweet, are looking for a fianc. "What can I do for you?" she said. "I must
have a word with your dog." The girl was stupid! I knew at once that she was
stupid! (7.1)

108
 How did Poprishchin reach that conclusion? Where's the evidence? Well, there is none,
and that's the point. As our resident misogynist, he believes women are inferior, and feels
he doesn't really need to back up his beliefs.

Quote #6

On coming home, I wanted to get to work and sort these letters out at once,
because I see poorly by candlelight. But Mavra had decided to wash the floor.
These stupid Finnish women are always cleaning at the wrong moment.
(7.1)

This is xenophobia, misogyny and classism, 3-in-1, folks. Here we find Poprishchin
insulting his housecleaner Mavra because she is not Russian, not male and not upper
class. And all the poor woman did was wash his floors.

I'll confide in you that I have many wooers. I often sit in the window and look
at them. Ah, if you only knew how ugly some of them are. The coarsest of
mutts, terribly stupid, stupidity written all over his face, goes down the street
most imposingly, imagining he's the noblest person, thinking everyone is
looking only at him. Not a bit of it. (8.18)

This is from Medji's letter, so we're not going to fault Poprishchin this time (although it's
probably coming straight from his mind in the form of a hallucination). But it's a good
example of classism. Here, Medji is calling a lower class mutt ugly, coarse, and stupid.
Medji the dog is supposed to represent upper class women, so we'd say the classism part
is quite accurate. Style overwell, you get it.

Quote #8

Oh, she's a perfidious beingwoman! Only now have I grasped what woman
is. Till now no one has found out who she's in love with: I'm the first to
discover it. Woman is in love with the devil. Yes, no joking. It's stupid what
physicists write, that she's this or thatshe only loves the devil. (13.1)

109
 "Till now no one has found out"? Oh, please. Actually, the woman being in cahoots with
the devil has been a classic theme of (male dominated) literature since the beginning of
time. Can you name a few classic stories sharing this theme?

Quote #9

it's all the doing of some barber who lives in Gorokhovaya Street. I don't
know what his name is; but it's known for certain that he, together with some
midwife, wants to spread Mohammedanism throughout the world, and as a
result, they say, in France the majority of people already accepts the faith of
Mohammed. (13.1)

As we can see, Islamophobia isn't anything new. Actually, it was very common in the
Russian Empire. That comes with the territory. As in, literally: the Empire colonized a huge
area of land in Siberia and Central Asia, which meant that the biggest minority, with 10%
of the population, were Muslims. They were severely oppressed. So when Poprishchin
becomes paranoid, it's not surprising that one of his delusions is that Muslims are
conspiring to take over the world.

Only I still cannot understand how a king can be made subject to the
Inquisition. True, this might come from the French side, especially from
Polignac. Oh, he's a sly customer, Polignac! He's sworn to injure me as long as
I live. And so he persecutes me, persecutes me; but I know, friend, that you're
being led by the Englishman. The Englishman is a great politician. He fusses
about everywhere. The whole world knows that when England takes snuff,
France sneezes. (18.1)

Xenophobia in action again. Muslims taking over the world isn't Poprishchin's only
paranoid fantasy. He also thinks it must be the French persecuting him. The French might
be evil, what with that evil accent and all, but they are also weak and dominated by the
English. Would you like any Freedom Fries with that, P?

AKSENTY IVANOVICH POPRISHCHIN

Character Analysis

Madman, Sure, but What Else?

110
Poprishchin is the eponymous "madman," and he delivers by going from relatively sane to
completely insane during the course of the story, and very believably so. In fact, his character's
madness is so convincing that it's considered to be one of the earliest and most accurate
depictions of schizophrenia in literature. He hallucinates about dogs speaking (1.2) and writing
each other letters (8.1), and later has grandiose delusions about becoming the king of Spain
(12.1).

But wait, there's more. He's got lots of other classic symptoms of schizophrenia: he becomes
anxious, withdrawn, distracted, and irritable (11.1); he becomes paranoid and thinks he is being
persecuted: "Oh, he's a sly customer, Polignac! He's sworn to injure me as long as I live. And so
he persecutes me, persecutes me" (18.1). He starts deriving hidden meanings from words:

I discovered that China and Spain are absolutely one and the same land, and it is only out of
ignorance that they are considered separate countries. I advise everyone purposely to write
Spain on a piece of paper, and it will come out China. (17.1)

On the other hand, Poprishchin doesn't always seem totally crazy, even after he starts to think
he is the king of Spain. He can still write. He keeps trying to make sense out of what is
happening. He pleads to be saved. But then the last sentence of the story is complete
nonsense, so he must be crazy, right?

Well, it's a paradox. As the smart guys at Harvard put it, Propishchin is using rational logic to
explain his madness. The story might be called "The Diary of a Madman," and Poprishchin is a
very believable madman, but Gogol still seems to want us to think hard about this one. Just
don't end up in the asylum trying to sort this one out, okay?

Even if you decide he is mad, we feel that just calling him a madman and leaving it at that is
still kind of unfair. That would make him a lot more two-dimensional than he actually is. He has
so many more qualities than just being crazy.

The Fool, Pity Him or Not

To begin with, he is also foolish. By foolish, we mean he's kind of silly and ridiculouscommon
sense is definitely not his strong point. He says, for example:

Our director must be a very intelligent man. His whole study is filled with bookcases. I read the
titles of some of the books: it's all learning, such learning as our kinds can't even come close to:
all in French, or in German. And to look at his face: pah, such importance shines in his
eyes! (2.1)

But he can't even talk to the guy and actually find out for himself what is in the guy's
supposedly intelligent mind.

111
News flash: the director is probably not that intelligent. He probably put some foreign books
in his office to impress people, but judging from what the dogs say about him"[Papa] is a
very strange man. He's silent most of the time. Speaks very rarely" (8.12)he's probably just an
ambitious but not exceptionally bright guy. Even the dogs can see that he's not all that special.

Another great example: he thinks that sappy verses like "I was gone from her an hour, / Yet to
me it seemed a year; Life itself turned me sour, / And the future dark and drear" make for
great poetry (2.1).

And he continues to hope that all his pencil sharpening (6.1) will get him a promotion despite
the fact that his section chief despises him and thinks his work is terrible (5.1). We are starting
to pity the fool.

Haters Gonna Hate

And that's not all. Being foolish isn't Poprishchin's only awesome quality. He also truly loves
mankind in all its variety and has sweet and wonderful things to say about everyone. Umm, not
really. Go ahead and impress your friends by describing our guy as a "misanthrope."

If you're French, for example, he can offer you "a good birching" (2.1). If you're Jewish, you're
"a hoary devil" and "the last Judgment would come sooner" than when "you would hand out
any money" (1.1). If you're an artisan, you're "vile" and you "produce so much soot and smoke
in [your] workshop that it's impossible for a gentleman to walk there" (7.1). If you're a woman,
you are "a perfidious being" who is "in love with the devil" (13.1). If you're a Finnish woman, you
are "stupid" and "always cleaning at the wrong moment" (7.1). Heartwarming!

If you're looking for a reason as to why he might be such a curmudgeon, well, we don't really
get a reason. There's no back-story. We don't know what kind of a kid Poprishchin was or who
beat him up on the playground or ridiculed or ignored him to make him become so nasty,
bitter, and insecure. But we can tell you what kind of effect his nastiness produces: it makes
him really hard to identify with or pity during most of the story. So the nastiness helps out
quite a bit with the whole satire thing. We don't feel so guilty laughing at him. Except maybe at
the end

PatheticAnd We Mean This in the Nicest Way Possible

Yes, he can be nasty and foolish and crazy, but you gotta feel some pathos for the homely,
awkward, defenseless guy at the office who's the butt of everyone's jokes. And who wouldn't
have some sympathy for poor Poprishchin when he's cringing in the corner of a dark, cold, cell,
afraid and confused, waiting for the next beating? And crying for his mother? Excuse us for a
moment while we pull ourselves together.

112
What's That Rank?

Now that we've looked at some of his personal qualities, let's explain some facts. Poprishchin is
a titular councillor. According to the imperial Russian table of ranks, that technically makes him
a member of the upper-class and a nobleman. But it's not hereditary nobility in his case, so it
doesn't mean much (other than allowing him to have contempt for everyone lower in rank and
class than him). To be a true nobleman who could pass on his nobility, he would have to be
promoted to just one rank higher. He thinks that promotion might get Sophie's attention.

But being late to the office (1.1), missing days (11.1), doing sloppy work (1.1) and having your
supervisor hate you (5.1) probably means: fat chance. Poprishchin probably realizes at some
level that there's no climbing up that ladder, because he eventually creates his own reality and
promotes himself all the way up to King. It's no coincidence that he chooses that as his
delusion.

Forty-Two-Year-Old Virgin

Yep, that's what Poprishchin is. That should explain why he feels "utterly lost" when he runs
into Sophie and has to hide from her (1.2). Or why he wants to say to Sophie, "Don't punish me,
but if it is your will to punish me, punish me with Your Excellency's own hand" (2.1). Creepy.

Speaking of creepy, he also stalks her: "In the evening, wrapped in my overcoat, I went to Her
Excellency's front gates and waited for a long time to see whether she'd come out for a
carriage, to have one more lookbut no, she didn't come out" (2.1). He is desperate to get her
attention but because he has zero social skills, the relationship can't get off the ground.

Anyway, he loses Sophie to Teplov, and given his insanity, foolishness, nastiness and lack of
career prospects or income, he's not going to be updating his relationship status anytime
soon.

So with Poprishchin, Gogol might have created an incredibly memorable madman, but that's
not all. When you take the "mad" part away, what you end up with is a great satire of your
average Russian low-level bureaucrat of the time: foolish, hateful, obsessed with social status
and insecure in his masculinity.

AKSENTY IVANOVICH POPRISHCHIN TIMELINE AND SUMMARY

Poprishchin is late to work at his dead-end job where he hates everyone, obsesses
about how unappreciated he is and fantasizes about the lifestyles of the rich and
famoushis boss, mostly. Then he runs into his crush, the director's daughter, Sophie.
He feels he is looking kind of unfashionable, so he hides from her.

113
 So far, he seems insecure, bitter, silly, and a bit weird, but where's this "Madman"
we're supposed to be reading about?
When Sophie goes into a store, he hears her dog Medji talking to another dog, Fidele,
outside about writing one another letters. Hmm, that does sound a bit mad, but
maybe he just has an overactive imagination.
The next day, Sophie comes into the office to see daddy, but Poprishchin still can't
manage to talk to her.
His very friendly section chief finds a moment to pull Poprishchin aside and lay it to
him like it is: he is worthless and should forget about marrying Sophie.
Being your average civil servant, Poprishchin goes to the office more or less regularly
at this point. Nothing too strange in that.
Since he's not getting anywhere with Sophie, he decides to go talk to the dog Fidele.
Oh. Forget what we just said about this being only his active imagination.
Poprishchin shows up at the apartment where Fidele lives, but she won't talk to him,
so he steals a bundle of papers from under her basket.
Back home, he reads the letters and finds out that Sophie will get married to the
kammerjunker Teplov. He's furious.
Things start falling apart pretty quickly at this pointand by "things" we mean his
sanity. Losing Sophie seems to be the final blow in his depressing life.
Some days later, Poprishchin is reading the papers and finds out the Spanish throne is
empty. He realizes in a flash of insight that he is the king of Spain. Crazy! No, we
actually mean it. He has finally gone completely crazy.
After the manager comes all the way to his home to tell him to go to the office, he
agrees, but signs his work papers as "Ferdinand VIII."
Then he storms off, marches over to Sophie's apartment, and tells her such happiness
awaits her as she could not even imagine and leaves before she can say anything.
Next, he cuts up his clothes to make himself a royal robe and awaits the arrival of the
Spanish deputies who will escort him to his throne.
Finally, he thinks he's in Spain. In fact, he's in an insane asylum.
He gets his head shaven, is beaten up by the guards and tortured with water.
Poor Poprishchin believes that he is being persecuted by the Spanish Inquisition.
The last we hear of him, he is pleading for his mother to come save him.

THE MINOR CHARACTERS

Character Analysis

114
Poprishchin mentions quite a few other characters in his diary, real or imagined, but we
decided to call them "minor" because Poprishchin rarely lets them take the stage. We don't
get to know that much about them other than how much Poprishchin hates them or is
obsessed with them. We only hear a few words from them when Poprishchin decides to quote
their conversation in his diary.

"Okay, okay, we get it, but just tell us who they are anyway," you say? Well, if you insist.

The Section Chief

He pretty much couldn't hate Poprishchin more. The man makes "a sour face" when
Poprishchin shows up late to work (1.1) and just "assume[s] an air as if he [doesn't] notice"
Poprishchin's arrival when he shows up on time. He also has no problem pulling Poprishchin
aside and saying to him, "Well, look at yourself, only think, what are you? You're a zero,
nothing more. You haven't got a kopeck to your name. Just look at yourself in the mirror" (3.1).
He sure isn't gonna get one of those "World's Best Boss" mugs.

The Director

Poprishchin thinks his director must be really smart because "his whole study is filled with
bookcases," and his books are "all in French or in German" (2.1). But we're not so sure, because
according to his daughter's dog Medji, the guy is "a very strange man. He's silent most of the
time. Speaks very rarely" (8.12). So who knows?

We do know several things, though: the man "likes very much having more pens" (6.1), as in,
like, 23 of them sharpened and lined up at once. We also know that Poprishchin would do
anything to find out what the director's life is really like, with its "equivocations and courtly
tricks" (6.1), and so stalks the man. And finally, according to the dogs' letters (8.12), he gets a
ribbon and probably something like the Order of St. Vladimir as a recognition of his
achievements. So we agree with Poprishchin; the director is "ambitious" (8.13).

Sophie, the Director's Daughter

We already know that Poprishchin is beyond obsessed with Sophie and stalks her. But what
about the young woman herself, what is she like? She looks "magnificent" (2.1), according to
Poprishchin, has a "great passion" for pretty clothes (1.2) and shows up in her father's office in
a "white gown" (2.1). She drops her handkerchief in front of Poprishchin just to make him pick
it up (2.1), probably because she knows how crazy he is about her and finds it really funny. She
doesn't seem to pay any attention to Poprishchin until he rushes into her dressing room at
home. Then she gets really scared of him.

115
According to Medji (if we are to believe the letters), Sophie loves going to balls, but "she's
almost always angry as she's being dressed" (8.16) for them. Then she comes back at six in the
morning looking famished. Sounds like everyone we've ever read about in People.

She meets the dashing kammerjunker Teplov at a ball. When he starts to call at her apartment,
both Sophie and her father are delighted at this fortunate potential match. Three weeks later,
Sophie's wedding is announced (9.1). We think things like this moved a bit too fast back then.
What do you think? Superficial much? This character gives us some idea of what Gogol's
opinion might have been of the young, unmarried, privileged women of the city. More on that
later.

Teplov, Sophie's Fianc

Teplov, the kammerjunker, is a good catch. He is working in the emperor's court (okay, he is
the lowest ranking official in the court, but who cares, he has prospects.) He is also
exotic-looking for Russia: he has dark hair and dark eyes, and grows his facial hair into broad,
masculine side-whiskers. That's pretty much all we know about him.

Oh wait, one more thing, before we forget: he doesn't "have a third eye on his forehead
because he's a kammerjunker. His nose isn't made of gold [], he doesn't eat with it, he smells;
he doesn't cough, he sneezes" (9.1). Right, right, Poprishchin, he's just a man.

Medji, Sophie's Dog

This dog can talk, and she can write with all the correct "punctuation and even tricky spellings
in order" (8.3). She can even borrow ideas "from some work translated from the German" (8.5).
If we believe everything Poprishchin claims to have read in Medji's letters to the dog Fidele,
then Medji actually comes out looking more educated, more intelligent and way more refined
than Poprishchin himself or anyone else in the diary. Seriously gossipy, though.

Mavra, Poprishchin's Housekeeper

She's Finnish. And she's "always cleaning at the wrong moment" (7.1). Oh, and when
Poprishchin tells her he is the king of Spain, she gets frightened (12.1) and when he puts on the
crazy royal mantle he patches together from his uniform, she cries out in fear (15.1). She might
barely be on the sidelines of this story but she is actually quite useful as a character. The poor
woman's reactions to Poprishchin give us a pretty good idea as to how crazy he really appears
to others.

The Grand Inquisitor, a.k.a. the Asylum Guard

116
All we know about this character is that he mistreats the mentally ill and likes to beat them. But
that's useful to know, in case we mistakenly thought the asylum was a place Poprishchin might
actually get treatment for his mental illness.

Simbolizam, Imaerija, Alegorija

POPRISHCHIN AS RUSSIA

Symbolism, Imagery, Allegory

Pop quiz: who (or what) is lazy (1.1), secretly worried about being provincial (1.1), uneducated
(2.1), penniless (3.1), petty (4.1), rather naturally unappealing (8.22), a failure (8.29), obsessed
with rank (9.1), has an injured ego (9.1), delusions of grandeur (12.1), a severe persecution
complex (18.1), and pitiful (20.1)? If you said, "Why, it must be Russia in the 19th century," you're
in good company. That's a common allegorical interpretation of this story. After all, that's what
many Russians were thinking about their country at the time.

The Russians' self-image hadn't always been so negative. It had been pretty good for about a
century: Russia had been going through some serious reforms to make it more modern (and
"European"). And when Tsar Alexander I defeated Napoleon in 1815, Russia became more
popular in Europe. So far, so good, right?

Fast-forward ten years, to a very cold December in 1825. Goodbye, Alexander I (typhus). Hello,
little brother Nicholas I. Some soldiers (later called the Decembrists) don't want Nicholas I to
rule, so they revolt. Little brother Nicholas I crushes their revolt and proceeds to turn into "Big
Brother" by taking away a lot of freedoms, and introducing a regime of repression, censorship
and surveillance. Fast-forward another ten years, to the time Gogol is writing "The Diary of a
Madman," and Russia is a lot like the Poprishchin character of his story.

Gogol eventually became a die-hard tsarist who even published a whole book to defend
things like autocracy and serfdom (titled Selected Passages from Correspondence with
Friends). But that was published in 1847 when he was a little older. So we leave it up to you to
decide: can we read "The Diary of a Madman" as "The Diary of a Mad Country" or not?

THE DOGS

Symbolism, Imagery, Allegory

Let's have a look at how the dogs in the story, Medji and Fidele, spend their time. They sit
within the confines of their homes (8.6), are pampered, write each other elaborate letters
about their favorite dishes (8.8), talk trash about the lower classes (8.8), discuss but don't

117
understand the significance of all those political affairs the men are involved in (8.12), and
gossip about their suitors (8.18). Does that remind you of anything? If you were about to say
"upper class ladies," but hesitated, we'll just put it out there: yes, the letter-exchanging dogs
do indeed symbolize upper class Russian women.

If you're surprised by the misogyny (fancy word for woman-hating) of this bit of symbolism, it's
not like Gogol is otherwise kind to women in this story. Look at this: "Oh, she's a perfidious
beingwoman! Only now have I grasped what woman is. Till now no one has found out who
she's in love with: I'm the first to discover it. Woman is in love with the devil" (13.1).

And if you're wondering how accurate this "doggie" portrayal of the lives of upper class
Russian women actually is, we'll say Gogol nails this one. Just replace the "doggie" bits with
their human equivalents. It's especially on-target, for example, when it gets to the kinds of
things men were saying about women's writing.

Women had started to have a more active role in Russia around the time this story was written,
and were getting criticism like Poprishchin's from men: "Never in my life have I heard of a
[woman] being able to write. Only a gentleman can write correctly" (1.2), "Such nonsense! As if
there were no better subjects to write about" (8.9), "Extremely uneven style. Shows at once it
wasn't written by a man" (8.17), "Pah, devil take it! What rot! [] Give me a man! I want to
see a man; I demand foodsuch as nourishes and delights my soul; and instead I get these
trifles" (8.19).

THE DATES OF THE DIARY ENTRIES

Symbolism, Imagery, Allegory

The dates in the diary entries start out looking completely normal, but when Poprishchin starts
to think he is the king of Spain (12.1), they get increasingly strange (or just don't exist). These
dates are very important because they are mileposts on Poprishchin's journey into madness.
Since Gogol likes to keep us guessinghow crazy is Poprishchin, exactlyuntil the very end,
these mileposts remind us that Poprishchin is gradually losing it.

The confusion of the later dates ("86th of Martober" [13.1] or "January of the same year which
came after February" [18.1]) also symbolizes how confusing life was starting to get in Russia,
especially if you had a job where you had to measure and keep track of things. Confusing how?
Well, first of all, there was the difference between the Russian units of measurement, area,
volume and weight and those of continental Europe (yes, you guessed it, the metric system).

118
And how about this: on top of all that, during Gogol's time, Russia was still following the Julian
calendar, which meant it was always about 13 days behind Europe, most of which was on the
Gregorian calendar.

So when someone like Poprishchin read about, say, the affairs of Spain in the newspaper, he
would have to keep converting between the Gregorian and Julian calendars. Quick: what's
Fourth of July in the Julian calendar? It could make anyone go crazy.

ANALYSIS: SETTING

Where It All Goes Down

Saint Petersburg, Russia (Not Spain or China), Early 19th Century

Poprishchin wastes no time at the beginning of the story to start complaining about all those
corrupt provincials with their fancy houses. So we know right away that he's in some big city.
But when he starts dropping street names (1.4), we savvy readers of the story know it must be
all going down in Saint Petersburg, Russia.

At the time Gogol was writing this story, Saint Petersburg had been falling from its glory as the
Western face of Russia. Suddenly, people weren't so into its extremely, uh, perpendicular
angles, and cold, unfriendly facades. Like Poprishchin, many people felt stuck in a social class
system where there wasn't much chance of moving up in life. (Source: Maguire, Robert A.
Introduction. The Diary of a Madman, The Government Inspector and Selected Stories. By
Nikolay Gogol. Trans. with Notes by Ronald Wilks. New York: Penguin Classics, 2005. vxiii-xx.
Print.) Unless you marry rich or become the King of Spain. Then in 1824, the city was flooded.
The waters rose to a 13.8-foot surge (that tops Hurricane Sandy), and really crushed the city
dwellers' spirits.

Of course, in the second part of the story, Poprishchin claims he is in Spain, which is the same
place as China. And then when he says he got to Spain in half an hour and sees a lot of people
with shaved heads, we know he is probably still in Saint Petersburg, but in an insane asylum.
Poprishchin describes the asylum as if it were a foreign country with strange customs. But
actually it's a pretty accurate picture of what asylums were like back then, especially in big
cities and even more especially for the poor: "I saw a lot of people with shaved heads" (17.1), "
there is a terrible stench all over the earth, so that you have to hold your nose" (17.1), "But I
cannot even remember how I felt when they began dripping cold water on my head" (18.1).

So in case we were thinking 19th-century Saint Petersburg is a nice place, what with all those
noble types with fancy clothes and French books, Gogol makes sure that we get it: no,

119
it really is not a nice place for everyone, especially if you're sick, poor, or just plain
unimportant.

And finally, there are those weird dates in the diary (check out "Symbols, Imagery, Allegory" for
more on that). We're sane enough to look at the cultural and historical references ("Allusions")
in the story, and guess that it most likely takes place in 1833-1834.

ANALYSIS: NARRATOR POINT OF VIEW

Who is the narrator, can she or he read minds, and, more importantly, can we trust her or him?

First Person (Central Narrator)

Poprishchin is not just at the steering wheel of this wild bus ride through insanity, he's also the
one holding the mic and telling us all about what's going on out there. Of course, when you
see a madman in that seat with the mic in his hand, you have to ask yourself: hmm, how
reliable is he? Well, he does think that dogs talk and write, and he believes he's the King of
Spain, but he still continues to describe as best he can what he thinks is happening, right? So
we can give him some credit here in the reliability department.

The only time we're not fully inside his head is when he quotes from what other people have
told him (he's disorganized, socially inept, etc.). The stuff he quotes seems to mesh with the
kind of idea we get about him from reading his diary, so we can probably believe him when it
gets to these quotes. Another point at which it seems like we're not inside Poprishchin's head
is when he is quoting directly from the dogs' letters. But since we suspect these letters don't
really exist, we're probably more inside his delusional head than ever.

So even though the narrator Gogol gives us is mad, that doesn't mean he is out to pull any
tricks on us in his diary. He's too nave to be a schemer. He just wants to note everything down
as he thinks it happens, and we get an up-close-and-personal look at his loosening hold on
reality. We're left to figure out what is really going on by reading his descriptions of the
reactions of the other characters. He doesn't see that his behavior is alarming to others, but we
sure do.

Poprishchin starts his diary by telling us about an "extraordinary adventure." If you've ever kept
a diary, you know that you probably write more when confusing or troubling or just really
interesting stuff is happening in your own life. Maybe it's a way to make sense of things or just
to keep track of all the changes during a challenging or scary time. Great example: Anne Frank.

ANALYSIS: GENRE

120
Satire, Fantasy, Parable

From start to finish, there's no escaping the snark in this story. To begin with, there's
Poprishchin scorning everyone and everything with his ridiculous exaggerations. Remember
what he has to say about Sophie's fianc, Teplov? "So what if he's a kammerjunker [] He's not
going to have a third eye on his forehead because he is a kammerjunker" (9.1). Or what about
the director? "He's a doornail, not a director. An ordinary doornail, a simple doornail, nothing
more" (13.1). Gogol manages to satirize everyone from elite Russian ladies (see "The Dogs"
under "Symbols, Imagery, Allegory") to the upper echelons of the Russian nobility (2.1) the
Jews (1.1), the provincial government (1.1), the French (2.1), merchants (4.1), journalists (4.1),
women (7.1), the Finns (7.1), Muslims (13.1), and the English (18.1).

But the real joke is on Poprishchin: when we're not laughing with him, we're laughing at him
(and the lower ranking Russian civil servants he represents), doing things like copying verses
by a mediocre poet (2.1) and thinking he's so cultured.

This story is also fantastic. Okay, we admit that dogs might speak (to our hearts), but no way
they're writing letters to one another.

And finally, we can think of the whole thing as a parable for your average Russian Yuri, going
through life being confused, hopeless, and miserable.

ANALYSIS: TONE

Take a story's temperature by studying its tone. Is it hopeful? Cynical? Snarky? Playful?

Casual, Curmudgeonly

To make the whole "this is the diary of a madman" idea believable, Gogol really had to nail this
one, and we think he did. The way Poprishchin describes everything is so casual and
matter-of-fact that it's not that hard to take his word that he thinks this is all really happening.

Look at this guyhe has just heard a dog talk and he's acting all cool: "I confess, I was very
surprised to hear her speak in human language. But later, when I'd thought it over properly, I
at once ceased to be surprised" (2.1). Or he has just pushed his way into a stranger's apartment
(a single woman's, on top of it), taken some papers from her dog's basket, and gotten bitten
by the dog. What does he say? "I suppose the girl took me for a madman, because she was
extremely frightened" (7.1). Gogol makes him say all this in such a matter-of-fact way that it
becomes easier for us to go along with it. On the other hand, the fact that he can talk about all
this stuff in such a casual and detached way, even when he logically "discovers" he's the King
of Spain, just emphasizes how out of touch with reality he is.

121
Poprishchin's tone is also really curmudgeonly: he says horrible things about everyone: the
Jews (1.1), the provincial government (1.1), the French (2.1), women (7.1), the Finns (7.1), Muslims
(13.1), the English (18.1)... it's a long list. He's full of suspicions and thinks the worst of
everybody.

ANALYSIS: WRITING STYLE

Doggy (By Which We Actually Mean Uneven)

Let's take our cue from our friend Poprishchin on this one. When he's reading Medji's first
letter, he says its style is "doggy" (8.1). He later explains this means "extremely uneven," as it
"begins properly, but ends with some dogginess" (8.17). And then he says this "shows at once
that it wasn't written by a man" (8.17). Whatever, it's not like these pooches would prefer to be
human, anyway.

But we want to say "Well, P, look at your own style!" Sometimes his style is very simple and
clear. In his more lucid moments, Poprishchin describes things as they are, gives us enough
background information to put things together, and doesn't jump around.

Once his mind starts to fall apart, though, so does his writing.

And sometimes he can get wordy and over-the-top sentimental: "there, I think, there are
wonders; there, I think, there is paradise, such as is not even to be found in heaven" (6.1),
anyone? Or how about that ending: "Here is the sky billowing before me; a little star shines in
the distance; a forest races by with dark trees and a crescent moon; blue mist spreads under
my feet; a string twangs in the mist" (20.1) and so on If you can believe it, these parts sound
even more ridiculous in the original Russian.

ANALYSIS: WHAT'S UP WITH THE TITLE?

The title of this story seems pretty straightforward, right? It is a diary, and it is written by a
madman. What more could there be to that? Well, hold on a second, though.

Let's think about what would it would be like if it were called something else. Say it were called
"A Diary." We would start reading it, and sure, it would look like a diary with all these entries.
But when we got to the part about the dogs talking, we would get very confused, right? We
could even think it was magical realism. Especially since that's one of the tricks usually
up Gogol's nose, er, sleeve. So by calling this one "A Madman's Diary," instead of just "A
Diary," Gogol is making sure we don't toss the story aside or confuse it with magical realism
when we get to the nuttier parts.

122
Let's think of another title. What if it were called "The Titular Councillor" or even "The King of
Spain"? Would those seem more or less exciting to you than "The Diary of a Madman," with all
its promise of insanity? We think the original title wins.

ANALYSIS: WHAT'S UP WITH THE ENDING?

Let's start with that date, "The 34 February (written upside down) th, yrae (that's right, not year
but yrae) 349." That date is written in a way that doesn't leave much doubt about Poprishchin's
state of mind at this point.

But let's continue to read. He starts out the last entry by saying something not so batty. Poor
Poprishchin is suffering, he knows he is suffering and just wants to be saved. This part almost
makes us pity him, right? Does he finally realize he's in an asylumsome insight, maybe? But
when he starts to fantasize about being saved, something happens to the writing: "Take the
reins, my driver, ring out, my bells, soar aloft, steeds, and carry me out of this world!" (20.1).
Just as we were about to start feeling sorry for him, his writing turns not quite crazy, but
really, really fantastic and exaggerated. He even has a vision of his mother in his childhood
home.

And then there's that last sentence that takes a sudden and bizarre turn: "And do you know
the Dey of Algiers has a bump just under his nose?" Wait, what does that have to do with
anything now? What on earth is he talking about? Well, that's exactly it. We have no idea what
he is talking about. With that last crazy sentence, Gogol abruptly rescues us from becoming a
puddle of tears about Poprishchin's terribly sad fate. And it seals the deal on the question of
whether our hero is totally, irredeemably mad.

Gogol could have made this last entry completely crazy, from beginning to end, but he
doesn't. Instead, he makes us repeat a mini-version of the whole story, from normalcy to
foolishness to pity to madness. Why do you think that might be? Does he want us to laugh or
cry at Poprishchin's predicament? Do we have to choose?

ANALYSIS: PLOT ANALYSIS

Most good stories start with a fundamental list of ingredients: the initial situation, conflict,
complication, climax, suspense, denouement, and conclusion. Great writers sometimes shake
up the recipe and add some spice.

Exposition (Initial Situation)

Something Crazy Happened on the Way to Work

123
Poprishchin runs into Sophie, the boss' daughter, on the way to work. He thinks he hears her
dog talking to another dog about writing letters. At this stage in the plot, we find out he is
infatuated with her and obsessed with his lowly rank in life and at work. He also confesses for
the first time that he sometimes hears and sees things no one else can.

Rising Action (Conflict, Complication)

I Am in Love, but She Is Marrying Someone Better

Poprishchin becomes obsessed with Sophie and decides to find out more about her by
stealing and reading the dogs' letters. But alas! He finds out that she's marrying someone
more handsome and important, and that even the dogs make fun of a lowlife like him. This
rejection seems to be what snaps the thin thread holding him to reality.

Climax (Crisis, Turning Point)

I Turn Out to Be the King of Spain

Propishchin reads in the paper that Spain doesn't have a king because there's no male heir to
the throne. After endlessly obsessing about it, he suddenly realizes that he himself is the king
of Spain. He stops going to work. Declaring you're the king and signing your work papers as
"Ferdinand VIII" makes for quite the climax, doesn't it?

Falling Action

The Confusing Place Called Spain, By Which I Mean China

Poprishchin apparently ends up in the loony bin, where he gets regularly beaten and tortured.
He believes that he's been escorted to Spain, which he concludes is the same place as China.
That's a bit of a let down for both him and us after that glorious climax.

Resolution (Denouement)

Save Me Mommy

Poprishchin might not think he's in the insane asylum, but he knows that wherever he is, it's a
horrible place to be. The only thing left to do at this point is to cry for mommy to come save
him. But he ends his diary with a completely crazy comment about the Dey of Algiers, which
makes us wonder whether mommy, or anyone else for that matter, can save him from his
madness.

ANALYSIS: ALLUSIONS

124
When authors refer to other great works, people, and events, its usually not accidental. Put on
your super-sleuth hat and figure out why.

Literary and Philosophical References

Alexander Pushkin (2.1) is considered to be one of the greatest Russian literary figures
of all time, but watch outthose lines Poprishchin quotes are actually not from
Pushkin. They're from a not-so-important writer called N.P. Nikolev.

Historical References

Philip II, the King of Spain (12.1), who was a real Spanish king in the 16th century
The problems with the succession to the Spanish throne (10.1) actually did happen. On
September 29, 1833, Ferdinand VII of Spain died, and the throne was given to his
three-year-old daughter Isabella. But her uncle didn't like this one bit and the result
was political chaos.

Pop Culture References

The journal The Northern Bee (2.1), which was the most popular news magazine of the
time
The Russian fool Filatka (4.1), who was a stock folk character in popular vaudevilles of
the time

THE DIARY OF A MADMAN QUESTIONS

Bring on the tough stuff - theres not just one right answer.

1. Poprishchin is ugly, curmudgeonly, racist, xenophobic, and a stalker, to say the least.
Why does Gogol make him so hard to like?

2. How accurate is the picture we get of 19th-century Imperial Russia from reading this
madman's diary?

3. If this book were written from the perspective of one of the other (more or less sane)
characters, how would they describe Poprishchin and the things that happen to him?

4. When do you first start to suspect that Poprishchin might not be the most rational guy
in the world? Can you think of some recent events that suggest that there might, in
hindsight, be forewarnings of mental illness in behavior that didn't seem too strange
at the time?

5. Why do you think Gogol chose to tell Poprishchin's story in diary form?

125
 6. If you were to write a story where dogs could speak and write, what would you make
them say? (No fair getting help from Seth MacFarlane on this one.)

Viy (story)

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

"Viy" (Russian: ) is a horror novella by the Russian writer Nikolai Gogol, first published in
the first volume of his collection of tales entitled Mirgorod (1835). The title is also the name of
the demonic entity central to the plot.

Plot summary[edit]

Every summer, there is usually a large procession of all the students moving around the area
as they travel home, However, the group is reduced to three students, the theologian Khaliava,
the philosopher Khoma Brut, and the rhetorician Tibery Gorobets.

As the night draws in, the students hope to find a village near the main road where they can
find some rest and food. However, they become lost in the wilderness, eventually coming
upon two small houses and a farm. An old woman there tells them she has a little room and
cannot accommodate any more travelers, but she eventually agrees to let them stay.

At night, the old woman comes to Khoma. At first, he thinks she is trying to seduce him, but
then she draws closer and he sees that her eyes are glowing strangely. She leaps on his back,
and he reluctantly finds himself galloping with her all over the countryside with a strength he
previously never knew. He eventually slows the witch by chanting exorcisms out loud, and
then rides on her back and later picks up a piece of wood and beats her as punishment. The
old woman later collapses, and he discovers she has turned into a beautiful girl.

Khoma runs away to Kiev and resumes his easy life, when a rumor reaches his dean that a
rich cossacks daughter was found crawling home near death, her last wish being for Khoma
the philosopher to come and read psalms over her corpse for three nights after her death.

Although Khoma is uncertain why the girl requested him specifically, the bribed dean orders
him to go to the cossacks house and comply with her last wish. Several Cossacks bring him by
force to the village where the girl lived. When he is shown the corpse, however, he finds it is
the witch he overcame earlier in the story. Rumors among the Cossacks are that the daughter
was in league with the Devil, and they tell horror stories about her evil ways, such as previously
riding on another person, drinking blood, and cutting off the braids of village girls and Khoma
is reluctant to say prayers over her body at night.

On the first night, when the cossacks take her body to a ruined church, he is somewhat
frightened but calms himself when he lights more candles in the church to eliminate most of
the darkness. As he begins to say prayers, he imagines to himself that the corpse is getting up,
but it never does. Suddenly, however, he looks up and finds that the witch is sitting up in her

126
coffin. She begins to walk around, reaching out for someone, and begins to approach Khoma,
but he draws a circle of protection around himself that she cannot cross.

The next night similar events occur but more horrible than before, and the witch calls upon
unseen, winged demons and monsters to fly about outside the church, but Khoma is invisible
for them. When the cossacks find the philosopher in the morning, he tries to escape but is
captured and brought back to finish.

On the third night, the witchs corpse is even more terrifying, and she calls the demons and
monsters around her to bring into the church the Viy, the one who can see everything. Khoma
realizes that he cannot look at the creature when they draw his long eyelids up from the floor
so he can see, but he does anyway and sees a horrible, iron face staring at him. Viy points in
his direction, and the monsters leap upon him. Khoma dies from horror. However, the
monsters miss the first crowing of the rooster and are unable to escape the church when day
begins.

The priest arrives the next day to find the monsters frozen in the windows as they tried to flee
the church. The temple is forsaken forever, eventually overgrown by weeds and trees. The
story ends with Khomas other two friends commenting on his death and how it was his lot in
life to die in such a way, agreeing that he only came to his end because he flinched and
showed fear of the demons.

Folkloric sources

Gogol states in his author's note that Viy, the King of the Gnomes, was an actual character
from Ukrainian folklore. This was merely a literary device. In reality Gogol probably never
heard of Viy at all. No discovery has been made of the folklore source of Viy, and as such it
remains a part of Gogol's imagination. However, some scholars believe that the conception of
Viy may have been at least partially based on old folk tradition surrounding St. Cassian the
Unmerciful, who was said in some tales to have eyebrows that descended to his knees and
which were raised only on Leap Year. It is likely that Gogol had heard about the character and
designed Viy on his various forms.[1]

The demons summoned into the church come from the Slavic superstitions of "midnight
dead". Evil people, it was believed, automatically became Devil's subjects upon death. Earth
would not hold them so that every night they would crawl out of their graves and torment the
living. In the story, the demons have "black earth" clung to them, as if they crawled out of the
ground.

The water sprite (Rusalka) seen by Khoma during his night ride bears relation to the "midnight
dead". It was widely believed, in Russian and Ukraine, that rusalki were spirits of unbaptized
children or drowned maidens, who were in league with the Devil. They were known to drown
their victims or tickle them to death. They were described as beautiful, and deadly, and bear

127
relation to the young version of the witch, and Gogol's frequent portrayal of women as
beautiful yet evil.

Incantations, exorcism, and the magic circle come from Ukrainian beliefs of protection from
evil forces. The circle relates to "chur", a magical boundary that evil cannot cross. Even though
Khoma died from fear, the creatures could not touch him.

Additionally, the final notion that Khoma died only because he let fear win over him appears to
stem from John of Damascus, who said "... all evil and impure passions have been conceived
by [evil spirits] and they have been permitted to visit attacks upon man. But they are unable to
force anyone, for it is in our power either to accept the visitation or not."

Nikolai Gogol
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Nikolai Gogol

Born Nikolai Vasilievich Gogol

31 March 1809[1] (NS)
Sorochyntsi, Mirgorod
Uyezd (ru), Poltava Governorate, Russian

128
 Empire (modern Ukraine)

Died 4 March 1852 (aged 42)

Moscow, Russian Empire

Resting place Novodevichy Cemetery

Occupation Playwright, short story writer, novelist

Language Russian

Nationality Russian Empire

Period 184051

Nikolai Vasilievich Gogol (/ o l, - l/;[4] Russian: , tr. Nikolay

Vasilievich Gogol, IPA: [nk laj v siljvt gog l]; 31 March [O.S. 19 March] 1809 4 March [O.S. 21
February] 1852) was a Russian[5][6][7][8][9] dramatist of Ukrainian origin.[6][10][11][12][13]

Although Gogol was considered by his contemporaries to be one of the preeminent figures of
the natural school of Russian literary realism, later critics have found in his work a
fundamentally romantic sensibility, with strains of surrealism and the grotesque ("The Nose", "Viy", "The
Overcoat," "Nevsky Prospekt"). His early works, such as Evenings on a Farm Near Dikanka, were
influenced by his Ukrainian upbringing, Ukrainian culture and folklore.[14][15] His later writing satirised
political corruption in the Russian Empire(The Government Inspector, Dead Souls). The novel Taras
Bulba (1835) and the play Marriage (1842), along with the short stories "Diary of a Madman", "The Tale of
How Ivan Ivanovich Quarreled with Ivan Nikiforovich", "The Portrait" and "The Carriage", are also among
his best-known works.

Early life[edit]
Gogol was born in the Ukrainian Cossack village of Sorochyntsi,[6] in Poltava Governorate of the Russian
Empire, present-day Ukraine. His mother descended from Leonty Kosyarovsky, an officer of the Lubny
Regiment in 1710. His father Vasily Gogol-Yanovsky, a descendant of Ukrainian Cossacks (see Lyzohub
family) and who died when Gogol was 15 years old, belonged to the 'petty gentry', wrote poetry in
Ukrainian and Russian, and was an amateur Ukrainian-language playwright. As was typical of the
left-bank Ukrainian gentry of the early nineteenth century, the family spoke Ukrainian as well as Russian.
As a child, Gogol helped stage Ukrainian-language plays in his uncle's home theater.[16]

In 1820, Gogol went to a school of higher art in Nezhin (now Nizhyn Gogol State University) and
remained there until 1828. It was there that he began writing. He was not popular among his
schoolmates, who called him their "mysterious dwarf", but with two or three of them he formed lasting

129
friendships. Very early he developed a dark and secretive disposition, marked by a painful
self-consciousness and boundless ambition. Equally early he developed a talent for mimicry, which later
made him a matchless reader of his own works and induced him to toy with the idea of becoming an
actor.

In 1828, on leaving school, Gogol came to Saint Petersburg, full of vague but glowingly ambitious hopes.
He had hoped for literary fame, and brought with him a Romanticpoem of German idyllic life Hans K
chelgarten. He had it published, at his own expense, under the name of "V. Alov." The magazines he sent
it to almost universally derided it. He bought all the copies and destroyed them, swearing never to write
poetry again.

Gogol was in touch with the "literary aristocracy", had a story published in Anton Delvig's Northern
Flowers, was taken up by Vasily Zhukovsky and Pyotr Pletnyov, and (in 1831) was introduced to Pushkin.

Literary development[edit]
In 1831 Gogol brought out the first volume of his Ukrainian stories (Evenings on a Farm Near Dikanka),
which met with immediate success.[17] He followed it in 1832 with a second volume, and in 1835 by two
volumes of stories entitled Mirgorod, as well as by two volumes of miscellaneous prose
entitled Arabesques. At this time Russian editors and critics such as Nikolai Polevoy and Nikolai
Nadezhdin saw in Gogol the emergence of a Ukrainian, rather than Russian, writer, using his works to
illustrate supposed differences between Russian and Ukrainian national characters.[18] The themes and
style of these early prose works by Gogol, as well as his later drama, were similar to the work of Ukrainian
writers and dramatists who were his contemporaries and friends, including Hryhory
Kvitka-Osnovyanenko and Vasily Narezhny. However, Gogol's satire was much more sophisticated and
unconventional.[19]

At this time, Gogol developed a passion for Ukrainian history and tried to obtain an appointment to the
history department at Kiev University. Despite the support of Pushkin and Sergey Uvarov, the Russian
minister of education, his appointment was blocked by a Kyivan bureaucrat on the grounds that Gogol
was unqualified.[20] His fictional story Taras Bulba, based on the history of Ukrainian cossacks, was the
result of this phase in his interests. During this time he also developed a close and lifelong friendship with
another Ukrainian, the historian and naturalist Mykhaylo Maksymovych.[21]

In 1834 Gogol was made Professor of Medieval History at the University of St. Petersburg, a job for which
he had no qualifications. He turned in a performance ludicrous enough to warrant satiric treatment in
one of his own stories. After an introductory lecture made up of brilliant generalizations which the
'historian' had prudently prepared and memorized, he gave up all pretence at erudition and teaching,
missed two lectures out of three, and when he did appear, muttered unintelligibly through his teeth. At
the final examination, he sat in utter silence with a black handkerchief wrapped around his head,
simulating a toothache, while another professor interrogated the students."[22] This academic venture
proved a failure and he resigned his chair in 1835.

Between 1832 and 1836 Gogol worked with great energy, and though almost all his work has in one way
or another its sources in these four years of contact with Pushkin, he had not yet decided that his
ambitions were to be fulfilled by success in literature. During this time, the Russian critics Stepan
Shevyrev and Vissarion Belinsky, contradicting earlier critics, reclassified Gogol from a Ukrainian to a
Russian writer.[18] It was only after the presentation at the Saint Petersburg State Theatre, on 19 April

130
1836, of his comedy The Government Inspector(Revizor)[23] that he finally came to believe in his literary
vocation. The comedy, a violent satire of Russian provincial bureaucracy, was staged thanks only to the
intervention of the emperor, Nicholas I.

From 1836 to 1848 Gogol lived abroad, travelling through Germany and Switzerland. Gogol spent the
winter of 183637 in Paris,[24] among Russian expatriates and Polish exiles, frequently meeting the Polish
poets Adam Mickiewicz and Bohdan Zaleski. He eventually settled in Rome. For much of the twelve years
from 1836 Gogol was in Italy developing an adoration for Rome. He studied art, read Italian literature and
developed a passion for opera. He mingled with Russian and other visitors, and in 1838 met Count
Joseph Vielhorskiy, the 23-year-old son of the official who had brought Gogol's Government Inspector to
the attention of the emperor. Vielhorsky was travelling in hopes of curing his tuberculosis. Gogol and
Vielhorsky fell in love, a relationship which was soon severed as Vielhorsky died in 1839. Gogol left an
account of this time in his Nights at the Villa: "if my death could restore him to health, with what
readiness I would have rushed toward it!"[25]

Pushkin's death produced a strong impression on Gogol. His principal work during years following
Pushkin's death was the satirical epic Dead Souls. Concurrently, he worked at other tasks recast Taras
Bulba and The Portrait, completed his second comedy, Marriage (Zhenitba), wrote the
fragment Rome and his most famous short story, "The Overcoat".

In 1841 the first part of Dead Souls was ready, and Gogol took it to Russia to supervise its printing. It
appeared in Moscow in 1842, under the title, imposed by the censorship, of The Adventures of Chichikov.
The book instantly established his reputation as the greatest prose writer in the language.

Creative decline and death[edit]

After the triumph of Dead Souls, Gogol's contemporaries came to regard him as a great satirist who
lampooned the unseemly sides of Imperial Russia. Little did they know that Dead Soulswas but the first
part of a planned modern-day counterpart to the Divine Comedy of Dante.[citation needed] The first part
represented the Inferno; the second part would depict the gradual purification and transformation of the
rogue Chichikov under the influence of virtuous publicans and governors Purgatory.[26]

In April 1848 Gogol returned to Russia from a pilgrimage to Jerusalem and passed his last years in
restless movement throughout the country. While visiting the capitals, he stayed with friends such
as Mikhail Pogodin and Sergey Aksakov. During this period, he also spent much time with his old
Ukrainian friends, Maksymovych and Osyp Bodiansky. He intensified his relationship with a starets or
spiritual elder, Matvey Konstantinovsky, whom he had known for several years. Konstantinovsky seems to
have strengthened in Gogol the fear of perdition by insisting on the sinfulness of all his imaginative work.
Exaggerated ascetic practices undermined his health and he fell into a state of deep depression. On the
night of 24 February 1852 he burned some of his manuscripts, which contained most of the second part
of Dead Souls. He explained this as a mistake, a practical joke played on him by the Devil. Soon
thereafter, he took to bed, refused all food, and died in great pain nine days later.

Gogol was mourned in the Saint Tatiana church at the Moscow University before his burial and then
buried at the Danilov Monastery, close to his fellow Slavophile Aleksey Khomyakov. His grave was
marked by a large stone (Golgotha), topped by a Russian Orthodox cross.[27] In 1931, Moscow authorities
decided to demolish the monastery and had Gogol's remains transferred to the Novodevichy
Cemetery.[28]

131
His body was discovered lying face down, which gave rise to the story that Gogol had been buried alive.
The authorities moved the Golgotha stone to the new gravesite, but removed the cross; in 1952 the
Soviets replaced the stone with a bust of Gogol. The stone was later reused for the tomb of Gogol's
admirer Mikhail Bulgakov. In 2009, in connection with the bicentennial of Gogol's birth, the bust was
moved[by whom?] to the museum at Novodevichy Cemetery, and the original Golgotha stone was
returned, along with a copy of the original Orthodox cross.[29]

The first Gogol monument in Moscow, a Symbolist statue on Arbat Square, represented the
sculptor Nikolay Andreyev's idea of Gogol rather than the real man.[30] Unveiled in 1909, the statue
received praise from Ilya Repin and from Leo Tolstoy as an outstanding projection of Gogol's tortured
personality. Joseph Stalin did not like it, however, and the statue was replaced by a more
orthodox Socialist Realism monument in 1952. It took enormous efforts to save Andreyev's original work
from destruction; as of 2014 it stands in front of the house where Gogol died.[31]

Style[edit]
D. S. Mirsky characterized Gogol's universe as "one of the most marvellous, unexpected in the strictest
sense, original[32] worlds ever created by an artist of words".[33]

The other main characteristic of Gogol's writing is his 'impressionist' vision of reality and people. [citation
needed] He saw the outer world romantically metamorphosed, a singular gift particularly evident from the
fantastic spatial transformations in his Gothic stories, "A Terrible Vengeance" and "A Bewitched Place".
His pictures of nature are strange mounds of detail heaped on detail, resulting in an unconnected chaos
of things. His people are caricatures, drawn with the method of the caricaturist which is to exaggerate
salient features and to reduce them to geometrical pattern. But these cartoons have a convincingness, a
truthfulness, and inevitability attained as a rule by slight but definitive strokes of unexpected reality
that seems to beggar the visible world itself.[34][need quotation to verify]

The aspect under which the mature Gogol sees reality is expressed by the Russian word poshlost', which
means something similar to "triviality, banality, inferiority", moral and spiritual, widespread in some group
or society. Like Sterne before him, Gogol was a great destroyer of prohibitions and of romantic illusions.
He undermined Russian Romanticism by making vulgarity reign where only the sublime and the beautiful
had reigned.[35] "Characteristic of Gogol is a sense of boundless superfluity that is soon revealed as utter
emptiness and a rich comedy that suddenly turns into metaphysical horror."[36] His stories often
interweave pathos and mockery, while "The Tale of How Ivan Ivanovich Quarreled with Ivan Nikiforovich"
begins as a merry farce and ends with the famous dictum, "It is dull in this world, gentlemen!"

Politics[edit]
It stunned Gogol when many[quantify] interpreted The Government Inspector as an indictment
of tsarism despite Nicholas I's patronage of the play. Gogol himself, an adherent of
the Slavophile movement, believed in a divinely inspired mission for both the House of Romanov and
the Russian Orthodox Church. Similar to Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Gogol sharply disagreed with those
Russians who preached constitutional monarchy and the disestablishment of the Orthodox Church.

After defending autocracy, serfdom, and the Orthodox Church in his book Selected Passages from
Correspondence with his Friends (1847), Gogol came under attack from his former patron Vissarion

132
Belinsky. The first Russian intellectual to publicly preach the economic theories of Karl Marx, Belinsky
accused Gogol of betraying his readership by defending the status quo.[citation needed]

Influence and interpretations[edit]

Even before the publication of Dead Souls, Belinsky recognized Gogol as the first realist writer in the
language and the head of the Natural School, to which he also assigned such younger or lesser authors
as Goncharov, Turgenev, Dmitry Grigorovich, Vladimir Dahl and Vladimir Sollogub. Gogol himself
seemed to be skeptical about the existence of such a literary movement. Although he recognized
"several young writers" who "have shown a particular desire to observe real life", he upbraided the
deficient composition and style of their works.[37] Nevertheless, subsequent generations of radical critics
celebrated Gogol (the author in whose world a nose roams the streets of the Russian capital) as a great
realist, a reputation decried by the Encyclopdia Britannica as "the triumph of Gogolesque irony".[38]

The period of modernism saw a revival of interest in and a change of attitude towards Gogol's work. One
of the pioneering works of Russian formalism was Eichenbaum's reappraisal of "The Overcoat". In the
1920s, a group of Russian short story writers, known as the Serapion Brothers, placed Gogol among their
precursors and consciously sought to imitate his techniques. The leading novelists of the period
notably Yevgeny Zamyatin and Mikhail Bulgakov also admired Gogol and followed in his footsteps. In
1926, Vsevolod Meyerhold staged The Government Inspector as a "comedy of the absurd situation",
revealing to his fascinated spectators a corrupt world of endless self-deception. In 1934, Andrei
Bely published the most meticulous study of Gogol's literary techniques up to that date, in which he
analyzed the colours prevalent in Gogol's work depending on the period, his impressionistic use of verbs,
expressive discontinuity of his syntax, complicated rhythmical patterns of his sentences, and many other
secrets of his craft. Based on this work, Vladimir Nabokov published a summary account of Gogol's
masterpieces in 1944.

Gogol's impact on Russian literature has been enduring, yet his works have been appreciated differently
by various critics. Belinsky, for instance, berated his horror stories as "moribund, monstrous works",
while Andrei Bely counted them among his most stylistically daring creations. Nabokov especially
admired Dead Souls, The Government Inspector, and "The Overcoat" as works of genius, proclaiming
that "when, as in his immortal 'The Overcoat', Gogol really let himself go and pottered happily on the
brink of his private abyss, he became the greatest artist that Russia has yet produced."[39] "The Overcoat"
was traditionally interpreted as a masterpiece of "humanitarian realism", but Nabokov and some other
attentive readers argued that "holes in the language" make the story susceptible to interpretation as a
supernatural tale about a ghostly double of a "small man".[40] Of all Gogol's stories, "The Nose" has
stubbornly defied all abstruse interpretations: D.S. Mirsky declared it "a piece of sheer play, almost sheer
nonsense".

Gogol's oeuvre has also had a large impact on Russia's non-literary culture, and his stories have
been adapted numerous times into opera and film. Russian Composer Alfred Schnittkewrote the eight
part Gogol Suite as incidental music to The Government Inspector performed as a play, and
composer Dmitri Shostakovich set "The Nose" as his first opera in 1930, despite the peculiar choice of
subject for what was meant to initiate the great tradition of Soviet opera.[41] Most recently, to celebrate
the 200th anniversary of Gogol's birth, Vienna's renowned Theater an der Wien commissioned music and
libretto for a full-length opera on the life of Gogol from Russian composer and writer Lera Auerbach.[42]

133
Some attention has also been given to the apparent anti-Semitism in Gogol's writings, as well as those of
his contemporary, Fyodor Dostoyevsky.[43] Felix Dreizin and David Guaspari, for example, in their The
Russian Soul and the Jew: Essays in Literary Ethnocentrism discuss "the significance of the Jewish
characters and the negative image of the Ukrainian Jewish community in Gogol's novel Taras Bulba,
pointing out Gogol's attachment to anti-Jewish prejudices prevalent in Russian and Ukrainian
culture."[44] In Leon Poliakov's The History of Antisemitism, the author mentions that "The 'Yankel'
from Taras Bulba indeed became the archetypal Jew in Russian literature. Gogol painted him as
supremely exploitative, cowardly, and repulsive, albeit capable of gratitude. But it seems perfectly natural
in the story that he and his cohorts be drowned in the Dniper by the Cossack lords. Above all, Yankel is
ridiculous, and the image of the plucked chicken that Gogol used has made the rounds of great Russian
authors."[45]

Despite his problematic portrayal of Jewish characters, Gogol left a powerful impression even on Jewish
writers who inherited his literary legacy. Amelia Glaser has noted the influence of Gogol's literary
innovations on Sholem Aleichem, who "chose to model much of his writing, and even his appearance, on
Gogol... What Sholem Aleichem was borrowing from Gogol was a rural East European landscape that
may have been dangerous, but could unite readers through the power of collective memory. He also
learned from Gogol to soften this danger through laughter, and he often rewrites Gogol's Jewish
characters, correcting anti-Semitic stereotypes and narrating history from a Jewish perspective."[46]

Adaptations[edit]
BBC Radio 4 made a series of six Gogol short stories, entitled Three Ivans, Two Aunts and an
Overcoat (2002, adaptations by Jim Poyser) starring Griff Rhys-Jones and Stephen Moore. The stories
adapted were "The Two Ivans", "The Overcoat", "Ivan Fyodorovich Shponka and His Aunt", "The Nose",
"The Mysterious Portrait" and "Diary of a Madman".

Gogol's short story "Christmas Eve" was adapted into operatic form twice by Tchaikovsky, first as Vakula
the Smith in 1874, then as The Tsarina's Slippers in 1885; Rimsky-Korsakov also wrote an opera based on
the same story in 1894. The story was also adapted for radio by Adam Beeson and broadcast on BBC
Radio 4 on 24 December 2008[47]and subsequently rebroadcast on both Radio 4 and Radio 4 Extra on
Christmas Eve 2010, 2011 and 2015;[48]

Gogol's story "Viy" was adapted into film by Russian filmmakers three times: the original Viy in 1967; the
horror film Vedma (aka The Power of Fear) in 2006; and the action-horror film Viy for 2014. It was also
adapted into the Russian FMV video game Viy: The Story Retold (2004). Outside of Russia, the film
loosely served as the inspiration for Mario Bava's film Black Sunday (1960) and the South Korean horror
film Evil Spirit: Viy (2008).

Gogol's short story "The Portrait" is being made into a feature film The Portrait by fine artists Anastasia
Elena Baranoff and Elena Vladimir Baranoff.[49][50][51][52][53][54]

The Russian film Gogol: The Beginning features Nikolai Gogol as a lead character and presents a
fictionalized version of his life that mixes his history with elements from his various stories. The film was
released theatrically in August 2017.

Legacy[edit]

134
Gogol has been featured many times on Russian and Soviet postage stamps; he is also well represented
on stamps worldwide.[55][56][57][58] Several commemorative coins have been issued from Russia and the
USSR. In 2009, the National Bank of Ukraine issued a commemorative coin dedicated to
Gogol.[59] Streets have been named after Gogol in various towns, including Moscow,
Sofia, Lipetsk, Odessa, Myrhorod, Krasnodar, Vladimir, Vladivostok, Penza, Petrozavodsk, Riga, Bratislava,
Belgrade, Harbin and many other towns and cities.

Gogol is mentioned several times in Fyodor Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment and Chekhov's The
Seagull. More than 135 films[60] have been based on Gogol's work, the most recent being The Girl in the
White Coat (2011).

The main character in Jhumpa Lahiri's 2003 novel The Namesake and its 2006 movie is named after
Nikolai Gogol, because his father survives a train crash while clutching onto a copy of one of Gogol's
books in his hand.

An eponymous poem "Gogol" by the poet-diplomat Abhay K refers to some of the great works of Gogol
such as "The Nose", "The Overcoat", "Nevsky Prospekt", Dead Souls and The Government Inspector.[61]

Gogol serves as an ideological influence for Gypsy punk band Gogol Bordello because Gogol
"smuggled" Ukrainian culture into Russian society, which Gogol Bordello intends to do with
Gypsy/East-European music in the English-speaking world.[62]

135