list, but also a poet, literary man, and critic. His
poetical compositions are rather shallow, and monotonous in form, but
were highly esteemed by his contemporaries. They are interesting at the
present day chiefly because of their historical and biographical
details, as a chronicle of history, and of the heart of a profoundly
sincere man. Their themes are, generally, the love of nature, of country
life, friendship; together with gentleness, sensibility, melancholy,
scorn for rank and wealth, dreams of immortality with posterity. His
greatest successes with the public were secured by "Poor Liza," and
"Natalya, the Boyar's Daughter," which served as much-admired models for
sentimentalism to succeeding generations. Sentimentality was no novelty
in Russia; it had come in with translations from English novels, such as
Richardson's "Clarissa Harlowe," and the like; and imitations of them in
Russia. "Sensibility" was held to be the highest quality in human
nature, and a man's--much more a woman's--worth was measured by the
amount of "sensibility" he or she possessed. This new school paid scant
heed to the observation and study of real life. An essential tenet in
the cult consisted of a glorification of the distant past, "the good old
times," adorned by fancy, as the ideal model for the present; the
worship of the poor but honest country folk, the ideal of equality,
freedom, happiness, and nearness to nature.
Of this style, Karamzin's "Poor Liza" is the most perfect and admired
specimen. Liza, a poor country lass, is "beautiful in body and soul,"
supremely gifted with tenderness and sensibility. Erast, a wealthy
noble, possessed of exceptional brains and a kind heart, but weak and
trifling by nature, falls in love with her. He begins to dream of the
idyllic past, "in which people strolled, care-free, through the meadows,
bathed in crystal clear pools, kissed like turtle-doves, reposed amid
roses and myrtle, and passed their days in happy idleness." So he feels
himself summoned to the embrace of nature, and determines to abandon the
high society, for a while at least. He even goes so far as to assure
Liza that it is possible for him to marry her, despite the immense
difference in their social stations; that "an innocent soul, gifted with
sensibility, is the most important thing of all, and Liza will ever be
the nearest of all persons to his heart." But he betrays her,
involuntarily. When she becomes convinced of his treachery,
|