Oblomov (Translated by Marian Schwartz 2008) by Ivan Alexandrovich Goncharov

Author:Ivan Alexandrovich Goncharov [Goncharov, Ivan Alexandrovich]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature
ISBN: 9781583228401
Publisher: Seven Stories Press
Published: 1859-01-01T16:00:00+00:00

XI

At home, Oblomov found another letter from Stolz which began and ended with these words: “Now or never!” It was filled with reproaches for his torpor and then an invitation to go to Switzerland without fail because Stolz was about to go there, and, finally, to Italy.

If not this, then he urged Oblomov to go to the country and check up on his affairs, shake up the muzhiks’ neglected life, check on and determine his income, and personally see to the construction of his new home.

“Remember our understanding: now or never,” he concluded.

“Now, now, now!” repeated Oblomov. “Andrei doesn’t know the epic that is unfolding in my life. What else does he have to think about? Could I ever be so busy with anything? He should try it! You read about the French and the English, and they seem to be working all the time and always have business on their minds! Not at all! They travel all over Europe, and some even go to Asia and Africa, just like that, for no reason at all: one to sketch an album or dig up antiquities; another to shoot lions or catch snakes. If not that, then they sit at home in noble idleness, eat breakfast, and dine with friends and women—that’s all they do! Why should I slave away? All Andrei can think of is, ‘Work and work some more, work like a horse!’ What for? My belly is full and I have clothes to wear. Although Olga has asked me again whether I intend to make the trip to Oblomovka.”

He rushed to write and plan and even went to see his architect. Soon after, the plan for the house and garden was laid out on his small desk. A family house, spacious, with two balconies.

Here am I, and here is Olga, here is the bedroom, and the nursery, he thought, smiling. But the muzhiks, the muzhiks . . . The smile slid from his face and worry furrowed his brow. My neighbor writes, he goes into detail, he talks about the plowing and the yield. How tedious! He even suggests we share the expense of extending the road to the large trading village, with a bridge across the brook, and asks for three thousand. He wants me to mortgage Oblomovka. But how on earth do I know whether I should? Or whether anything will come of it? What if he’s trying to trick me? Let’s say he’s an honest man. Stolz knows him, but he could be tricked as well, and what a lot of money! Three thousand is such a lot of money! Where am I to get it? No, it’s terrifying! He also writes that I should move some of my peasants to my uncultivated land and demands a speedy reply—always speedy. He’s taken it upon himself to send all the documents for mortgaging the estate to the council. “If I send him my power of attorney he’ll go to the court and have it notarized.” There’s what he wants! But I don’t even know where the court is or how the doors to it open.

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