Asya: An Analysis

Turgenev’s Asya is a brilliant short story that captures the ever-changing relationships between the three main characters. At first glance the story may seem rather straightforward with the dominant theme being lost opportunity. This story however, despite its short length, masterly incorporates many secondary themes. One of these themes is the idea that love should be simple and at its core “childlike,” in the sense that things like a person’s class or background shouldn’t affect the love between two people, is evident in the story. Interestingly, the character Asya can be seen as a metaphor for this idea because she is innocent and child-like, which can be seen in her experience with first love. The experience of first love is also a secondary theme in the story.

The story is cleverly told by a narrator N.N. who is also the main character of the story. In the story, he is telling his experience with two Russians he meets in Germany, Gagin and Asya, while he was only twenty-five. It’s interesting that Turgenev chose to write this way because this style allows the author to make us believe that the story is important to N.N. since he is telling it many years later. Also, as we find out in the end, this way of telling the story allows the readers to capture N.N.’s regret, and maybe this retelling of the past suggests his desire to change the outcome if he could do it all over again. However, given the nature of N.N.’s character, his indecisiveness and inability to act, we’re not sure if N.N. believes that a different outcome is possible. Given his passive nature, readers could see him as someone who believes in the inevitability of the tragic ending and that fate played a decisive role, and therefore, excusing himself of his incompetence. This ambiguity about how N.N. feels about the whole experience makes the story interesting and proves Turgenev’s strength in storytelling. Nonetheless, readers will have no doubt that N.N.’s experience with Asya is something he will take to his grave, and something that brings him enormous grief every time he looks back on the experience and the possibilities that could have followed.

Although the story is told by the main character, most readers will probably find Asya to be the more interesting character. There’s something very attractive about her character and unlike Princess Zinaida in Turgenev’s First Love, Asya is not about outer beauty but inner beauty, although she possesses both. It is her innocence, eccentric character, and her “spirit,”[1] as mentioned by N.N., that attracts readers and N.N. to her. Her playful spirit can be found in the scene where Asya is standing on an outjutting piece of wall and watering the flowers. Here she boldly asserts that although N.N. finds her behaviour “improper,” she says that she doesn’t care because she knows that he can’t take his eyes off her;[2] this beautifully captures her playful spirit. Other examples of this include the scenes where she breaks a branch and carries it like a gun and drawing the ire of the English passersby,[3] and her strange custom of “burst[ing] out laughing for no reason and at once ran off somewhere” [4] when she saw N.N. visit her brother Gagin.

Asya’s innocence is also present throughout the story. Her innocence can be seen when she boldly and tactlessly asks if N.N. has a sweetheart after Gagin mentions that he does.[5] This is interesting in retrospect because after learning about Asya’s love for N.N. later in the story, it seems that the standard reaction would have been to stay quiet due to disappointment. However, Asya’s inexperience with the situation, hence her innocence, allows her to impulsively ask if N.N. did in fact have a lover; there’s beauty in this question and it adds to the readers’ interest for her because of its innocence and the lack of calculation on Asya’s part. The interesting thing is that her brashness in asking the question is actually the smart one. Instead of staying quiet like a person perhaps typically would, she seizes the opportunity and tries to extract information from N.N., as a result of impulse rather than calculation, which could have worked to her benefit. Although the story has many themes and most importantly the idea of the lost opportunity, here we can see that Turgenev is able to make the story more three-dimensional by making the idiosyncrasies of his characters an important part of the story which then contributes to the larger themes. Here, Asya’s innocence in asking if N.N. has a lover contributes to the larger theme of the importance of the simplicity of love.

Another important aspect of the story, one that some readers might overlook, is the importance of the character Gagin.[6] Gagin plays an important role in the story because in many ways he’s the link between N.N. and Asya, and therefore plays an important role in shaping the events of the story. In addition, it is through him that N.N. learns an enormous amount about Asya, from her upbringing to her love for him. In the beginning of the story, it appears that it is Gagin that originally catches N.N.’s attention and it is their close friendship that makes N.N. visit Gagin everyday. Although this scenario seems easy to accept at first, it does raise questions as the story progresses. Did N.N. visit Gagin’s cottage to see him, or Asya? Could friendship between two grown men make one visit the other everyday for such a period of time? Gagin treated N.N. as a good friend, and no doubt enjoyed his daily visists. However, it’s a little different for N.N. because he’s the one who’s visiting Gagin everyday, the one making the effort. It’s one thing to welcome a friend everyday, but to take the initiative and actually go visit him is a little different. This makes readers suspect that maybe there are other reasons for N.N.’s visits, namely, to see Asya although he may not have known this. Later on, N.N.’s reasons for visiting Gagin to see Asya is made clear when N.N. says to himself, “I had convinced myself that I wanted to see Gagin, but secretly I wanted to see what Asya would do, whether she would ‘show off’ as she had done the previous day.”[7] Although it seems obvious here why N.N. goes to see Gagin, and even more so when we take into account his feelings after only his first visit when he asks himself, “Can it be I’m in love [with Asya]?”[8], Turgenev still casts the readers a certain level of doubt about N.N.’s intentions. Instead of saying directly that N.N. wanted to see Asya, he says that he wanted to see what sort of strange things Asya would do, which has a slightly different effect. This sense of ambiguity between N.N. and Gagin, and how Asya ties into the whole picture makes Gagin a very important character.

Another important aspect of N.N. and Gagin’s relationship is Asya’s reaction to it.[9] It can be seen in many parts of the story that their friendship causes Asya to feel left out and confused, although it is unclear to what degree. For example, in the scene where N.N. is reading to Gagin, it seems that Asya wanted to join them from the start but didn’t because she wasn’t sure if she would be interrupting, and therefore instead “darted to and fro past past [them].”[10] Eventually she sits next to N.N. to listen to him read, however, it is clear that she was agitated in the beginning because she wanted to be in N.N.’s presence but felt that the strong friendship between her brother and N.N. made it more difficult for her to be included. This kind of situation is seen again during N.N. first visit to Gagin’s cottage after his short trip to the mountains, where their conversation was constantly interrupted by Asya walking in and out of the room.[11] Her feeling of exclusion is once again seen here. The closeness between N.N. and Gagin, but not with Asya, causes her much pain and confusion.

Her exclusion from their friendship causes her to feel insecure and causes her to become hard on herself. Her insecurity and efforts to be accepted can be seen in the story when N.N. and Asya have their first intimate conversation. In this scene, Asya mentions that because she thought that N.N. was angry with her, she excluded herself from the conversation between N.N. and Gagin about his trip to the mountains. Her insecurity and confusion leads her to blame herself for N.N.’s perceived angriness towards her, which didn’t exist. Another interesting scene is when she again puts herself down in front of N.N. She says, “I’ve been very badly educated... I don’t know how to play the piano, I can’t draw, I even sew badly…[and] I haven’t got any major accomplishments and I must be very boring to be with.”[12] Here she is screaming for attention, and wants her “hero” N.N. to tell her that she is not as she described. Especially in the end when she says that she must be boring to be with, it is interesting because such self-pitying remarks are usually made only when speaking to a person that one loves. She’s desperate for N.N. to tell her that she isn’t boring and that she’s a pleasure to have around, and such a response would ease Asya’s insecurity. She’s begging to be told that she’s worthy of his attention, like a child who needs to be told they’re loved which is interesting because throughout the story she’s been described as child-like. In sum, she wants to be told that she’s worthy of his attention, and that there’s room for her in N.N. and Gagin’s friendship, although friendship is not what Asya is looking for.

Gagin also plays an important role because of the information of Asya he provides to N.N., and also because he represents a source of opportunity. It is he who decided to not leave with Asya without telling N.N. her love for him because he wanted to give N.N. a chance to love his sister.[13] It’s interesting that although Gagin seems to make things easy for N.N., by telling him Asya’s love for him and by giving him a chance to make the move, he also plays a role in standing between them. It seems at times that Gagin is worried that his sister’s love for N.N. would eventually bring about the end to their friendship.[14] For example he says, “[y]ou’re a nice chap, but why she should have fallen in love with you… I don’t understand.”[15] So instead of being happy at the possibility of finally finding a lover for his sister and that lover happens to be someone he is obviously fond of, he acts as though he doesn’t want this to go between him and N.N. If he was enthusiastic about the possibility of the two being in love, he would have said things that would make her sister more desirable, but instead he does the opposite. For example, in the same conversation he says, “you’re surely not thinking of marrying her?” Here is seems that Gagin is implying that Asya is not good enough N.N., and that although he’s ultimately leaving the choice up the him, he’s setting the tone that Asya’s not good enough for him. This is ironic because Gagin obviously loves her and is the one that looks after her, but here he betrays her by making her look like someone that shouldn’t be desired. Just imagine Asya’s reaction if she heard this conversation, wouldn’t she hate her brother for the rest of her life? Here we see how Gagin’s role plays a key part in setting the tone for the rest of the story, and although the tragic lost opportunity in the end is first and foremost N.N.’s own doing, it could be argued that Gagin had some influence over how things turned out.

Unfortunately for Asya, N.N. is not the hero she needs, and not the kind of picturesque Shepard in a mountain glen. In fact, as the story develops, we see that he is instead passive and restrained, and therefore, allowing Gagin’s attitudes toward the possible relationship between N.N. and Asya to have greater weight. For example, after setting the tone that it is little absurd for the two to marry, they “embark on as cold-blooded a discussion”[16] on what to do with Asya. N.N.’s attitude here contradicts Asya’s passion for him, because while on the one hand Asya is “in a fever and in tears” over her love for him, he’s having a rational discussion about what to do about the situation. At this point of the story, readers get a terrible sense of foreboding on the impending tragic end. This incompatibility between them is found throughout the story, and is most obvious during one particular conversation. Asya asks if it’s impossible to not live life in vain, and N.N. was about to say yes, but then controlled himself and said that “she must try.”[17] Here we get the first important glimpse that the boring and complacent N.N. is at polar opposites with the passionate and loving Asya.

            It is ironic that in the beginning of the story, the relationship between N.N. and Asya was like one of grown-up and child, and that N.N. appeared to be the strong-minded one while Asya was the confused one. However in the end, it is Asya who knows what she wants and N.N. who is confused and cannot act. In the end, Asya “grows wings” and knows it, and takes the initiative to start a relationship with N.N. by arranging him to meet her privately. Another point of irony is that sadly in the end, it is N.N.’s insecurity, not Asya’s as previously noted, that spoiled the chances of love between the two. Instead of confessing his love for her at their private meeting at the climax of the story, he blames her for telling Gagin about her love for him and scolds her, “Look at what you’ve done…[a]nd now everything’s over! You didn’t allow a feeling to grow which had just begun to ripen. You yourself broke off our relationship, you didn’t have any trust in me, you doubted me.”[18] This is cowardice and not the voice of a confident man. It is his insecurity, not Asya’s, that can’t handle the relationship. A confident man would take advantage of the opportunity and beg Asya to marry him, but N.N. apparent indecisiveness probably stems from his insecurity of being in love with a woman who, unlike him, has passions and dreams. Maybe this is too much for him to handle.

            Initially when N.N. sees Asya in the private room, he is overcome with love. However, upon remembering his agreement with Gagin, he hardens and slips away. It isn’t because he values his friendship with Gagin more than his love for Asya, it is because of other reasons. As mentioned before, it could be his insecurity that is pulling him away from her, and using the agreement with Gagin simply as an excuse to justify it, or it could be that he is completely deficient in expressing and dealing with human emotions. The latter is possible because we know he loves Asya, but maybe he just doesn’t know how to express his feelings, thus making the lost opportunity all the more tragic.

            N.N.’s incompetence is once again seen at the very end of his meeting with Asya. Asya again is the one that takes action, who having taken the initiative to arrange the meeting, now charges out of the room. N.N. again plays the passive role by not stopping her, and instead was “still standing in the middle [of the room], literally thunderstruck.”[19] Is it so hard to stop a girl you love from running out of the room? Why didn’t N.N. at least run after her? It’s this indecisiveness again that leaves him glued to the floor, unable to run after his love and allows Asya to slip away from him.

            N.N.’s restraint and lack of action makes us wonder, “why is Asya in love with such a man?” Is it simply timing, and that Asya’s at the point of her life where she’s not teased at school and has the opportunity to fall in love? Although the ending is tragic, and N.N. confesses that Asya remained in his memory “as that very girl whom [he’d] known in the best period of [his] life,… [he] didn’t grieve over her excessively.” Who is this guy? Is he human? Instead of blaming his own indecisiveness and seeming indifference in showing his love for Asya, “that profound feeling” that never again repeated in his life, he blames fate. In some ways this does help to console the readers because it gives the idea that this man is completely useless and Asya would never have been happy with him anyway. In sum, Asya deserves better. However, there is still an enormous sense of tragedy in the story, because of the lost opportunity, the opportunity of this immense, indescribable love that could have happened. Perhaps the greatest tragedy is that Asya’s child-like love may have died for good, for she must be hardened by the terrible rejection and might grow-up and love like an adult in the future, if she were to love again.

Bibliography

Turgenev, Ivan. "Asya," in First Love and Other Stories, ed. Richard Freeborn (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999)

Conrad, Joseph L. "Turgenev’s ‘Asja’: Ambiguous Ambivalence," The Slavic and East European Journal 30.2 (1986): 215-229.