Ostrovsky probably began work on An Ardent Heart (Goriachee serdtse) in the summer of 1868, finishing it in December of that year. It was published in the No. 1, 1869 issue of Fatherland Notes (Otechestvennye zapiski).
The play premiered in Moscow on January 15, 1869, with only moderate success. The St. Petersburg premiere on January 29, 1869, enjoyed no success and was followed by only a few performances there. Its failure was a crushing disappointment for Ostrovsky. The play’s greatest success came with Stanislavsky’s memorable staging in 1926, which highlighted the play’s satirical strain with abundant grotesquerie and high jinks.
Ostrovsky wished to revise the play for his collected works but did not manage to do so.
An Ardent Heart has two basic themes, which Ostrovsky combines with some skill, though ultimately, in my assessment, unsuccessfully. The more obvious one, because of the title, is that of Parasha, the young woman of the ardent heart. When Parasha loves, she commits herself fully, though eventually even she has to give up on the unworthy Vasya. Her independent spirit is as prominent as her loyalty in love. She is ready, almost eager, to fight and to endure privations for the freedom to marry the man of her choice. All of which stirs us with sympathetic admiration.
All the same, it seems to me, Parasha’s revolt (as some have considered it) is not nearly so lasting or deep as that of the generally outwardly passive Katerina Kabanov of The Thunderstorm, who invites comparison if only because both women’s oppression takes place in the same fictional town of Kalinov. Katerina, partly because she is married, feels hemmed in and oppressed by an entire way of life sanctioned or permitted by a society largely hostile or indifferent to her. Whereas Parasha has no real problem with society in general. Parasha’s problem is her stepmother, Matryona, who would deny to Parasha the freedom customary in that locale for unmarried young women to circulate (paradoxical as that perhaps might seem in view of the general confinement of married women). In this regard, then, Parasha is not a rebel but a conservative who insists only on rights approved by society. And when that obstacle (Matryona) is removed, Parasha quickly adapts to the domestic situation, formally asking her father’s consent to her marital choice.
While basically we are to take Parasha seriously, it strikes me that there is also some undercutting that suggests a possible parodying of true love struggling against odds. The dialogue between Parasha and her two suitors, especially with Vasya, at times verges on naive silliness, such as when Parasha urges Vasya to volunteer for dangerous combat to earn glory. It is clear that Ostrovsky wanted this trio to be folksy: their associations with folk music help them to gain the audience’s sympathy vis-a-vis the mostly negative characters of Kuroslepov, Gradoboev, Khlynov, Matryona and Narkis. While Vasya proves unworthy of Parasha, he is not really evil, but weak.
Aristarkh, though he serves Khlynov, is certainly on the side of the angels in his sentiments, but he knows his place and, while preserving a limited self respecting independence, will not stick his neck out because he is sure it will do no good.
The real strength of the play in the history of its performance (and in my view also in the reading of it) has been the social theme, specifically the theme of corrupting power as embodied in Kuroslepov, Gradoboev, and especially Khlynov. Each in his own way not only exercises some degree of power but revels in it (Kuroslepov revelling less than the others). The power of Kuroslepov and Khlynov is fueled by money, which, incidentally, is a constant concern in Ostrovsky’s plays.
Kuroslepov at this stage is generally no longer a threat to anyone, since in his dotage he has largely withdrawn to a somnolent state amounting to quasi-vegetation. Nevertheless, power over those in his domain is at his constant disposal, and he does not hesitate without any proof of guilt to have Vasya sentenced to army duty on mere suspicion, nor to send Gavrilo packing without back wages simply because Gavrilo is associated with Vasya. While Kuroslepov is upset by the theft of his money (a loss he can easily afford), he is not a miser. It is not the glitter of money but the status it gives which matters to him. When Gradoboev asks Kuroslepov if he knows what honor is, Kuroslepov replies, “What honor is? I’ve made my pile, there’s your honor. The greater the capital, the greater the honor.”
Gradoboev is a shrewd sadist who enjoys exploiting his power derived from his authority as chief of police. In his domain the law is basically irrelevant since he himself is the law. Take the oft-noted dispensation of group “justice” in Act Three. Gradoboev starts off with a familiar proverb (“To God above it’s high/Our Tsar on earth’s not nigh”) indicative of how legally vulnerable were those in the provinces, which were mostly free of any ongoing central supervision. After scaring the people with books of law statutes, Gradoboev, sure of the answer, asks them, “So, my dear friends, what do you want? Should I try you by the laws or the way I like, as God puts it in my heart?”
However, Gradoboev is properly submissive with those more powerful than he is. When he tries to match himself with Khlynov in Act Four it is simply because he doesn’t yet realize how powerful Khlynov is. And Gradoboev ingratiates himself with Kuroslepov, being on his side no matter what, because Kuroslepov can reward him financially. Although, to do him justice, he does display a certain proper dignity with Kuroslepov, feeling that the gratuity for special services is only proper—and most likely his salary is inadequate.
Khlynov was undoubtedly modeled on a well-known contemporary, G. I. Khludov, who performed weird stunts and even had a gentleman with a mustache in his entourage. Khlynov was originally a peasant and in terms of culture still is. A nouveau riche, he now goes all out for self-indulgence, showing off or doing whatever happens to suit his whim at the moment. Still, happiness eludes him. In his attempts to escape his empty spiritual self or his melancholic spells he has to seek help from outside himself.
But what Ostrovsky emphasizes is not Khlynov as an emotionally pathological individual but rather his danger in society. Khlynov knows that in his milieu his wealth guarantees that to him all is permitted. He makes it crystal clear to Gradoboev, the representative of the law, that he, Khlynov, is above the law and has foolproof ways to bribe the governor and the governor’s wife too. Boorish and ignorant though he be, however, Khlynov does have native intelligence; he did not rise from peasant to rich contractor by sheer chance. This intelligence in the service of his self-centered form of madness makes him even more dangerous.
Obviously negative characters, Matryona and Narkis can probably be dismissed simply as melodramatically black villains with no redeeming traits.
The plot is more intricate and has more suspense than in most of Ostrovsky’s plays, though the suspense is largely concentrated in the events at the end. That said, much of the play is slow-moving with a good deal of sociological stamping in place.
The ending is for Ostrovsky a rare happy one, without the usual disturbing undertone of near tragedy averted in effect by sheer chance. To be sure, chance saved the situation for Parasha, but the saving events occur in the penultimate act, and their very fairy-tale nature influences us not to worry very much from then on. At the end the virtuous Parasha and the reluctant knight in shining armor, Gavrilo, receive their just reward, each other, and presumably live happily ever after.
The play seems overcrowded and it remains a question whether the vaudeville humor is helpful or harmful, even if Stanislavsky’s exploitation of the play’s comic elements made his production a sensational success at the box office. The entire forest scene, which strikes me as both melodrama and parody of melodrama, is quite contrived, a play within a play to usher in the denouement. It is cleverly done, but basically it’s an extended deus ex machina device.
Nevertheless, despite its imperfections, put in perspective An Ardent Heart is rightly considered a strong play, mainly because of its convincing satirical portraits of Kuroslepov, Gradoboev and Khlynov.