Ostrovsky conceived Talents and Admirers in the summer of 1881, started to write it at the end of October, and finished it on December 6, 1881. It was published in the No. 1, 1882 issue of Fatherland Notes (Otechestvennye zapiski).
The premiere in Moscow on December 20, 1881, boasting an outstanding cast, enjoyed great success. Especially noteworthy was the performance of Márya Nikoláyevna Yermólov, who played Alexandra Nyegin as a basically innocent young actress sacrificing her love for art, while A. P. Lénsky played a Velikatov whose every move was calculated and certain. Both interpretations have been influential. The St. Petersburg premiere on January 14, 1882, was also successful, though less so than that in Moscow. However, the play did not become popular until the Soviet period.
To properly interpret this play I consider it essential that we try to avoid simplification, to be leery of hastily making black and white judgments, especially about Alexandra and Velikatov. Talents and Admirers is a complex play which sends out inconsistent signals, and it behooves us to try to determine as well as we can the ultimate truth known only for sure by its creator. One critic by implication aptly characterizes the play as a labyrinth.
Let’s start with Alexandra, whom I’ll discuss at relative length. Keep in mind that Ostrovsky is not just interested in portraying Alexandra’s character but also in emphasizing her situation: her sudden predicament effectively forces her to make a crucial decision without delay.
Alexandra is obviously devoted to the theater and a talented actress. However, in this provincial city’s theater acting talent is not enough to guarantee security for an actress. Her fate may depend on powerful male sponsors, such as Duly-ebov, who are admirers of actresses with appropriate extracurricular talents. Early on, as we see, Alexandra indignantly rejects Dulyebov’s proposition, and we can only accept her indignation as genuine. And yet, while it is true that Alexandra is relatively naive, I would like to suggest that, sexually speaking, she is hardly the innocent child she seems to be in this scene, that she is not nearly so surprised as she seems but is acting a bit in order to make things more difficult for Dulyebov. It is also possible that in general she puts on a puritanical pose as a protective tactic, but at base she is certainly not puritanical—her night fling with Meluzov is probably acceptable as sufficient proof of that. It is of some significance for what comes later that her highly pragmatic mother, whose views on sexual matters are of concern to Alexandra, is not overly disturbed by Dulyebov’s proposition, indeed more by Alexandra’s blunt response to it.
At this point one might assume that Alexandra should not have any man problem since she is engaged to Meluzov, but while there’s never any doubt about Meluzov’s love for Alexandra, it gradually becomes clear that Alexandra doesn’t love Meluzov other than platonically. This becomes obvious when at one point she rejects Meluzov’s embrace (significantly, when she’s watching Velikatov drive off with Nina), provoking him to complain that she never shows him any affection. We need no more to rule out the interpretation that Alexandra sacrifices love for art or career.
But does Alexandra perhaps love Velikatov? It seems impossible to answer that with a yes or no, but it’s clear that from the very beginning she is impressed by him and finds him attractive. At his first visit with astounding forwardness she makes a thinly disguised request that he take her driving sometime with his wonderful horses. She herself may well not be conscious of how attracted to Velikatov she is, but we can see it now and later. Especially pertinent is her reaction when Velikatov buys out her benefit performance; she not only understandably expresses her gratitude to Velikatov but goes on to promise him a kiss on the morrow. But why not today? Maybe because the kind of kiss she has in mind is one better not witnessed? Nina sees what’s up and gives Dulyebov a kiss on the spot!
In view of the above why does Alexandra tell her mother that Velikatov is a “disgusting man” for having written his letter to her?
My guess is that she doesn’t find him disgusting at all but is putting out a safe feeler to learn the reaction of her mother, who probably was reared in a morally conservative milieu. After Mme. Nyegin finds Velikatov acceptable and the proposed enterprise quite feasible, Alexandra feels free to make her sudden decision to accept Velikatov’s offer, though the audience, which has been in suspense during the intermission between Acts III and IV, could only realize this in retrospect. Her choice is the play’s climax, the fourth act the denouement.
Into the final meeting of Alexandra and Meluzov Ostrovsky sneaks a surprise. For Alexandra tells Meluzov that were she to give up the stage, she would lose her chance for fame! That in itself is enough to show that, devoted to theatrical art as she surely is, it’s not all she lives for.
Finally something should be said of Alexandra’s decision to go with Velikatov. Obviously it gives her a guaranteed chance to act as well as security to her and her mother (whom Alexandra would never think of abandoning in any way), and we know that Velikatov attracts her. But is her step “immoral,” as Meluzov judges? She refuses to accept Meluzov’s verdict though I suspect she might have some misgivings if only because Meluzov, whom she so much respects, is so sure about it. While Alexandra is not one to philosophize about morality or, for that matter, anything, the play suggests to me that she has her own responsible moral code and that her realization, probably influenced by her attraction for Velikatov, that she does not really love Meluzov makes her understand that it would be marrying Meluzov without love which would be immoral.
A key question for the interpretation of Velikatov is whether he is a thoroughgoing hypocrite, as some have maintained, or not. I’ll discuss the hypocrisy claim later, but for the immediate discussion I am assuming that Velikatov is by turns sincere and insincere.
Enigmatic though he be, mostly because he is so reticent about himself and his views, there is still quite a bit we can say about Velikatov, especially if we’re willing to venture some conjectures.
Velikatov did not inherit his wealth but, having rebuilt his father’s ruined estate, went on to accumulate others and to become a millionaire from his ownership of factories, especially a sugar-beet factory. However, Velikatov can hardly be summed up as just another moneymaker. Ostrovsky has informed us in the list of characters that Velikatov is a retired cavalry officer, which suggests the possibility that he loves horses and that he maintains his stud farm as a hobby. We also learn near the end that he has his own theater, which certainly suggests the possibility that he has cultural sympathies. Moreover, unlike some people of wealth, he seems able and willing to talk democratically with people regardless of their station. So we have enough to posit Velikatov as a man of parts, an unusual individual not readily pigeonholed. Ostrovsky tells us that Velikatov tries to imitate the tone and manners of the merchants he deals with, but that does not mean that he imitates their business methods.
Given Velikatov’s shyness, when he falls in love with Alexandra at first sight, he has a tactical problem. My guess is that he decides to use the readily accessible Nina to get closer to Alexandra while feeling his way. If this suspicion be on the mark, I would consider his so using Nina his one clearly unforgivable sin in the play. In any case it seems reasonable to suppose that Velikatov’s first visit with Nina to Alexandra’s apartment was his idea and not that of Nina, whose remarks to Meluzov at one point show that she considered Alexandra a potential rival for Velikatov’s favor. In this scene Alexandra gives Velikatov encouragement with the result that he immediately has Nina bring Alexandra the dress material she needs. Moreover, being the brilliant opportunist he is, he has Nina invite Alexandra on his behalf to a farewell party he’s giving the troupe. The decision to give such a party was probably made on the spot on the basis of his reception by Alexandra.
If at this point we can agree that Alexandra and Velikatov have been playing a game with each other involving either love or flirting, a game with each taking initiatives, then we can summarily dismiss the interpretation of Velikatov as predator and Alexandra as victim.
If Velikatov loves Alexandra, then why, since he’s free, does he not propose marriage? We can only speculate. His conversation with Mme. Nyegin at one point suggests the possibility that as a bachelor of rather long standing he may be afraid of marriage. Perhaps he prefers to learn more about Alexandra at close quarters before making a binding commitment.
Finally, there’s the charge that Velikatov is basely insincere, which is expressed most succinctly by the critic A. I. Revyakin when he writes that “Velikatov from beginning to end is insincere, false.”1 But how can we be so sure of that? Beginning to end? Every act and thought? Isn’t that a parti pris? To be sure, using the term rather loosely, Velikatov is often enough insincere in the sense of being manipulative (he butters Mme. Nyegin up shamelessly) and, more to the point, of being habitually agreeable, and of lying more than once. However, on this last point let me hasten to emphasize that his lies are the kind of white or perhaps even grayish lies which probably most of us have engaged in at one time or another (in the specific cases they don’t bother Alexandra or Nina), and none seem to do any great harm. I think it may be apropos to note that because a man lies sometimes doesn’t mean he lies all the time.
The negative social types in the play are Dulyebov, Bakin, and Migaev. Dulyebov is a snobbish old noble whose self-importance overwhelms what intelligence he has. For him the theater is a convenience store stocked with actresses who will be only too honored to perform offstage to his satisfaction. He’s spent much time in the theater, but, despite his pretension of being a connoisseur, he clearly has no genuine esthetic appreciation of it.
Bakin is bright and discerning but also a self-centered, coarse, and brazen cynic. He goes straight for whatever he wants regardless of others’ feelings, and his vaunted persistence makes him confident that he’ll get Alexandra into his stable, preferably quickly and without unnecessary fuss. Of course Bakin’s insolent aggressiveness is the worst approach to use with Alexandra, if for no other reason than it enhances Velikatov’s considerable tact.
Migaev, reportedly representative of many provincial theater directors of the time, has risen from a low position in the theater to become director, but he has no understanding of theatrical art—his only concern is the take at the box office. He has no concept of honor or dishonor, but disgusting though we must find him, on reflection we might be willing to judge him less harshly than Dulyebov and Bakin since his evildoing is close to being unthinkingly animalistic.
Narokov is the play’s defeated artistic conscience. A most likeable but pathetic old man, he has sacrificed his possessions for the theater he’s always loved. He idolizes Alexandra as an artistic ally with considerable justification, but Narokov is the only one whose entire life finds meaning solely in art, especially theatrical. He stands in sharp contrast to Dulyebov and Bakin, who tolerate him as a harmless eccentric but don’t take him seriously. They are not about to waste much of their valuable time with a man who can say that his “soul is full of fine perfumes.”
Last, but certainly not least, there’s Meluzov, the play’s defeated moral conscience. As some have noted, he bears a resemblance to Bazarov, the gruffly independent medical-studies graduate in Ivan Turgenev’s novel Fathers and Sons, who deems art useless. Meluzov shows no appreciation of art until near the end of the play when his views start to change under the influence of Alexandra’s benefit performance, suggesting the possibility that he had not seen her act before.
Meluzov is certainly quixotic, perhaps at his most honorably ridiculous when he tells Migaev roundly off for his maltreatment of Alexandra, and then is satisfied with himself for having done his duty (though it’s clear he hasn’t helped Alexandra’s cause at all). However, overly idealistic though we might consider Meluzov to be, we are sure that he has the stuff to endure privations and troubles while fulfilling his mission as teacher. Ostrovsky bestows a deserved honor on Meluzov when he has him basically end the play with a stout rejoinder to his spiritual enemy Bakin: “A duel? What for? You and I have a duel as it is, a constant duel, an unending duel. I enlighten, and you deprave… So let’s fight. You do your business, and I’ll do mine. And we’ll see who gets tired first… As for me, I’ll do my business to the end.”
1. Istoriia russkoi literatury XIX veka, v. 2, 336. Moscow, 1963.