are generally figures for the imagination to play on; however much
that is told to one about them, the secret springs of their character
are left a little obscure, but when Elena stands before us we know all
the innermost secrets of her character. Her strength of will, her
serious, courageous, proud soul, her capacity for passion, all the
play of her delicate idealistic nature troubled by the contradictions,
aspirations, and unhappiness that the dawn of love brings to her, all
this is conveyed to us by the simplest and the most consummate art.
The diary (chapter xvi.) that Elena keeps is in itself a masterly
revelation of a young girl's heart; it has never been equalled by any
other novelist. How exquisitely Turgenev reveals his characters may be
seen by an examination of the parts Shubin the artist, and Bersenyev
the student, play towards Elena. Both young men are in love with her,
and the description of their after relations as friends, and the
feelings of Elena towards them, and her own self-communings are
interwoven with unfaltering skill. All the most complex and baffling
shades of the mental life, which in the hands of many latter-day
novelists build up characters far too thin and too unconvincing, in
the hands of Turgenev are used with deftness and certainty to bring to
light that great kingdom which is always lying hidden beneath the
surface, beneath the common-place of daily life. In the difficult art
of literary perspective, in the effective grouping of contrasts in
character and the criss-cross of the influence of the different
individuals, lies the secret of Turgenev's supremacy. As an example
the reader may note how he is made to judge Elena through six pairs of
eyes. Her father's contempt for his daughter, her mother's
affectionate bewilderment, Shubin's petulant criticism, Bersenyev's
half hearted enthralment, Insarov's recognition, and Zoya's
indifference, being the facets for converging light on Elena's
sincerity and depth of soul. Again one may note Turgenev's method for