In his 'Lectures on Russian Literature', Nabokov writes, "Leaving aside his [Tolstoy's] precursors Pushkin and Lermontov, we might list the greatest artists in Russian prose thus: first, Tolstoy; second, Gogol; third, Chekhov; fourth, Turgenev." It's curious that none of these greats ever worked in the comic mode, which has been such a powerful tradition among nations the world over. To be sure, there are many sad smiles in Chekhov's plays and stories and some amusement to be found in Dostoevky'

In his 'Lectures on Russian Literature', Nabokov writes, "Leaving aside his [Tolstoy's] precursors Pushkin and Lermontov, we might list the greatest artists in Russian prose thus: first, Tolstoy; second, Gogol; third, Chekhov; fourth, Turgenev." It's curious that none of these greats ever worked in the comic mode, which has been such a powerful tradition among nations the world over. To be sure, there are many sad smiles in Chekhov's plays and stories and some amusement to be found in Dostoevky's "tremendous, farcical rows" (Nabokov again), but I can think of nothing written by these greats that had the primary purpose of getting their audience to do more than chuckle.Gogol, a Ukranian, is the exception that proves the rule and his "Inspector General" is a worthy drawing room comedy that puts one in mind of Wilde or Shaw. The freeloading hero, Khlestakov, sums up the play nicely in a letter to his friend:'I hasten to let you know, my dear Tryapichkin, all about my adventures. On the way an infantry captain cleared me out completely, so that the innkeeper wanted to send me to gaol ; when all of a sudden, owing to my Petersburg get-up and appearance, the whole town took me for the Governor-General. So now I am living at the Governor's ; I do just as I please ; I flirt madly with his wife and daughter—but I can't settle which to begin with... They all lend me as much money as ever I please. They are an awful set of originals—you would die of laughing if you saw them ! You write articles, I know: bring these people in. First and foremost, there's the Governor—he's as stupid as a mule . . .'These 'awful set of originals' also include the Postmaster, the Charity Commissioner, the Director of the Schools, all of whom are hopelessly and pettily corrupt and deathly afraid of being reported to 'Peter'. Khlestakov's unmasking constitutes the denouement of the play, by which point he has safely fled the scene.In itself, the mistaken identity plot is plain sitcom material, 'The Hotel Inspectors' episode of Fawlty Towers being a prime example of the genre. However, Gogol gets such excellent humours into it, that what would be merely comic in the hands of a Wilde or a Shaw is elevated to the fantastic. One feels that Gogol has an imagination worthy of the illiterate composers of the Arabian Nights. A good example is the letter the Governor writes to his wife, warning her that Khlestakov will soon be arriving at their home:ANNA. H'm—let's see what's written in this note. (Reads.) "I hasten to let you know, my dear, that I was in a very critical predicament ; but, relying on the mercy of God, two pickled gherkins a part and a half-portion of caviare—1 rouble 25 kopeks . . ." (Stops.) What ever does he mean by pickled gherkins and caviare, there ?DOBCHINSKI. Oh, Anton Antonovich wrote on a piece of paper that had been used before, to save time ; there's some bill or other made out on it.ANNA. Oh, I see, exactly. (Goes on reading.) " But, relying on the mercy of God, I think all will come to a happy conclusion. Get a room ready quickly—the one with the gold wallpaper—for our distinguished guest ; don't have anything extra for dinner, because we shall lunch at the hospital with Artemi Philippovich, but order in some more wine ; tell Abdiilin to send some of his very best—otherwise I will wreck his whole cellar. I kiss your hand, my dear, and remain, thine, Anton Skvaznfk-Dmuk- hanovski. . . ."The interruption of the letter by the gherkins and caviar of Khlestakov's unpaid bill, the supplications to God, the suggestions of coming drunkenness, the threat of violence to the merchant Abdiilin, whom the Governor regularly bilks and then, finally, the tender compliment to his wife of 18 years, all in one short letter, makes one feel that the play is taking place in some parallel universe which has other universes jostling and spilling into it. Later on, we have Khlestakov bragging to the Governor's wife:KHLESTAKOV. I know nearly all the pretty actresses, and compose all sorts of vaudevilles. I frequently see literary men ; I'm on a very friendly footing with Pushkin—often say to him: "Well, how de do, Pushkin, my boy!" "So-so, old man," he'd reply. "Things might be better. ..." A regular original, is Pushkin !"Here, the author (who was indeed a friend of Pushkin) and his scoundrel creation appear to become one and, shortly afterwards, as if to emphasize the point, the Governor's daughter praises Khlestavov's 'charming little nose'. The author's nose was indeed famous, and the theme of the nose appears several times in this play and Gogol's other works. (These hijinks appear to have infected the author of the translation I read and an endnote on duplicate records is itself mistakenly duplicated.)At first the play appears to be a send up of country bumpkins. But I read it more as a celebration of the freedom of the countryside. The corruption of its officials is indeed a nuiscance to the citizens of its small towns, but it is not so frightful as the beaurocracy of St Petersburg, consisting of an endless maze of Councils and Ministries staffed by counts, princes and generals who only need nod to have one sent to Siberia.KHLESTAKOV. Still you admit you can live happily in a small town?POSTMASTER. Precisely so, sir !KHLESTAKOV. What does one want? In my opinion, all you want is that peopleshould respect you, and sincerely like you—isn't that so?And again, in the ending of his letter to his friend: 'But, after all, the people are hospitable and well-meaning.'The only thing that detracted from my estimation of the play was the very predictable way in which Khlestakov is unmasked.