But the remarkable thing is that he was able to dress all of this up in an aura of gravity: he had poise. He spoke neither loudly nor quietly, but precisely at the right pitch. In a word, from whatever angle you looked, he was a very decent man.
This passage occurs early in the book and describes Chichikov's interactions at a party in the town. Before this, the narrator notes that Chichikov is able to converse on a number of subjects and say exactly whatever the person he is speaking to wants to hear about it. As the narrator writes, he is constantly readjusting the "pitch" and volume of his voice to fit the discussion. This quote reveals much about Chichikov's character: in effect, he has no real opinions of his own and he views talking as a way of getting what he wants by mirroring the thoughts of the person he is speaking to. This fact makes the description of him as "a very decent man" an instance of verbal irony on the narrator's part, as it really means that Chichikov cultivates an image of being a "very decent man" only to mask his cunning and self-interest.
In society or at a party, as long as everybody is of low rank, Prometheus goes on being Prometheus, but as soon as anyone a little more high-ranking appears, Prometheus undergoes a metamorphosis that even Ovid could not have invented: he becomes a fly, less than a fly, a grain of sand!
This quote deals with the function of class in different Russian society events. The narrator describes the way in which the arrival of someone from a higher class instantly changes the feeling in a room, as everyone reassesses their relationship to this figure. He references Prometheus to highlight how dramatic this shift is, as the person who holds themselves in high esteem instantly becomes deferential to someone who is wealthier, going from a God-like figure to a small fly or grain of sand. This observation is significant in that it shows what a large role class plays in the Russian society shown in the novel. Every character is aware of who has more money and status than them; this quote exemplifies that idea, while also emphasizing that this insecurity is constant.
After such panegyrical, if somewhat brief, biographies, Chichikov could see that there was no point mentioning any other officials, and he recalled that Sobakevich never had a good word to say about anyone.
This quote occurs while Chichikov is talking to Sobakevich. Chichikov makes several attempts to talk to Sobakevich about various local officials but quickly discovers that Sobakevich has only nasty things to say about all of them. This is indicative of Sobakevich's character, as the narrator describes him as someone who has almost no affection for other people and only cares about productivity. This quote is revealing in that it shows the way that Sobakevich is suspicious and hateful of the people he views as inferior to himself. This reflects how money impacts Sobakevich's sense of himself: because he has a valuable and functioning farm, he puts himself above others, despite the fact that he is not the one to actually work the land.
Russia, where are you hurtling to? Give an answer! There is no answer. The bell peals with a wonderful ringing; the air, ripped to pieces, roars and becomes wind; everything that exists on earth flies past, and other nations and empires look askance and stand back to make way for the troika.
This quote closes out the first section of the book. In it, the narrator compares the fate of all of Russia to a fast-moving troika—a carriage pulled by three horses. He describes it "hurtling" through space very quickly, with no clear destination. This depiction both underscores the uncertainty of the country's future as well as the speed with which it is changing. When he describes the troika as having no destination, the narrator seems to suggest that all of this rapid growth has no clear goal, and that Russia's fate is deeply uncertain. This is a key passage in the book, as the narrator is constantly speculating about Russia's future while also expressing concern about how various social problems are afflicting it. This image gives an unsettling close to the section, as the narrator seems deeply unsure about what will happen next but knows change is on the horizon.
But there is no word which has such verve, such boisterousness, which bursts right from the breast, which boils and quivers as a wittily spoken Russian word.
In this passage, the narrator makes an observation about the qualities of the Russian language. Specifically, the narrator comments on how other languages, like German and French, lack the "boisterousness" of Russian. He uses the words "boil" and "quiver" as a way to further underscore this impression. In the narrator's view, Russian is an earthy language whose clarity and accessibility are essentially unmatched. It is an expression of pride as well as a demonstration of Russia's ability to get to the heart of a subject.
Happy is the writer who transcends dreary, loathsome characters that strike one with their wretched reality, and who tackles ones that manifest lofty merits, the writer who has selected from the slough of daily recurrent images just those few exceptions, who has never once lowered the high pitch of his lyre, has never descended from his heights to the level of those poor nonentities, his colleagues, and, never touching the ground, has devoted himself entirely to exalted images divorced from the earth.
This passage is important in that it describes the narrator's mission. In contrast to artists who depict "exalted images divorced from the earth," the narrator (and by extension Gogol) choose to "touch the ground" and deal with daily realities. In this somewhat satirical passage, the narrator describes an artist who spends their time dealing with lofty ideas as a way of avoiding "wretched reality." This passage is clearly a critique in that he shows how this artist is only concerned with things that have no real connection to the world around them. He suggests that by avoiding "daily recurrent images," this artist, and others like them, are unable to deal with real issues. This quote also stakes a claim for the value of Dead Souls as a novel, because it shows how all of the pain and misery it contains is necessary, as it depicts issues of real, everyday life.
The fairest thing would be to call him an owner, an acquirer. Acquisition is the root of all evil: acquisitiveness has led to dealing which society qualifies as "somewhat murky."
Here, the narrator describes Chichikov as "an acquirer." He observes this with a certain degree of derision, as he seems to believe it has made him cruel and selfish. This portrayal is clear, as the narrator says the desire to acquire things caused Chichikov to deal with things in the "murky" part of society. What he seems to mean here is that the wish to buy and sell things in an effort to raise his social standing led Chichikov to have some unsavory dealings, much like the dead souls scheme he attempts to pull off in the novel. As the narrator notes in other places, a desire for material wealth is what causes Chichikov so much misery, as it is never satisfactory. While his schemes temporarily earned him some amount of goodwill from his classmates, he is still compelled to keep acquiring more things, as no amount of money will ever actually satisfy his need for social mobility.
All our assemblies, from a peasant communal gathering to every kind of scholarly and other committee, unless they have a chief who runs everything, are plagued by hopeless confusion. It's hard to say why this is so: it would seem to be the way the nation is inclined: somehow, the only councils that are formed to organize a carousal or a dinner: clubs and other places of amusement in the German style. Yet people are ready at any moment to try anything. At the drop of a hat we will set up charitable societies, societies for the encouragement of God knows what. The aim will be fine, but for all that the outcome will be null.
This lengthy passage deals with bureaucracy. In the narrator's view, only party planning committees are ever successful and any groups that attempt to create real change are stalled in "hopeless confusion." The narrator is commenting on the way in which these groups and meetings quickly get bogged down in arguments and formality. At the same time, he is noting how difficult it is for anyone to actually organize something for any sort of civic good, as people primarily prefer to throw parties. The narrator takes note of this as a way of showing how the characters in the novel get caught up in their ideals, but often fail to follow through on them in any meaningful way. He seems to believe that this lack of direction is holding Russia back as a country, as this organizational failure is stifling national progress.
In short, everything indicated that the important part of the life of the being that inhabited this place took place not within the four walls of a room but in the fields, and that his thoughts were not sybaritically nursed well beforehand in a comfortable armchair by a burning fire in the fireplace but occurred to him outside, where he was working and were translated into action on the spot.
In this passage, the narrator introduces the character of Kostanzhoglo. This quote indicates how connected to his land and work Kostanzhoglo is. In contrast to most of the landowners in the first part of the novel, his understanding of his estate, and desire to work on it, make him a better farmer. This is emphasized in the description of his thoughts occurring to him outdoors, not "in a comfortable armchair." Kostanzhoglo is not separate from his work and it seems to make him a happier, healthier person, suggesting, in the narrator's view, that this proximity to the land is incredibly important.
"How nice it is to have complete unanimity," said Chichikov, "I have another bit of business, both legal and illegal at the same time; it looks illegal but in essence it is legal. I need to mortgage souls and I don't want to let anyone risk having to pay two rubles per living soul. Well, if I went broke, God forbid, it would be nasty for the owner, so I've decided to make use of fugitive serfs and dead ones who have not yet been crossed off the census list, so that I can at the same time do a Christian deed and relieve the poor owner of the burden of paying poll tax for them. Just between ourselves we'll draw up a formal deed of purchase as if they were alive."
This quote from Chichikov reveals how he thinks about his business schemes. His paradoxical comment about it being a scheme that "look[s] illegal but in essence is legal" suggests that he knows that what he is doing is wrong but still tries to justify his behavior. His reference to the idea that this is somehow a "Christian deed" is comical in that what he is doing is entirely selfish, motivated by a desire to make as much money as possible by acquiring the names of dead peasants from cruel landowners. In total, this quote indicates how Chichikov ties himself into knots to defend himself from criticism.
