Dead Souls

On the road, Chichikov still glances back anxiously, cursing Nozdryov volubly. The narrator claims even the horses are out of sorts. They nearly collide with another carriage, which contains a beautiful and delicate young woman. Chichikov stares at her. Their horses become entangled, and are only separated by some peasants who take notice of the commotion.

Chichikov’s thoughts still rest on the woman. The narrator reflects that these thoughts are less poetic and lofty than those of a younger man would be. Instead of remaining dumbstruck, Chichikov moves on, reflecting that the young woman may soon become frivolous like other women, and speculating at the possibility that she has a large dowry.

Chichikov arrives at Sobakevich’s estate, which showcases its owner’s preoccupation with construction: “everything that Chichikov looked at was well abutted, unshakable, clumsily made, but strong” (1773-74). Chichikov is immediately struck by his host’s bear-like size and strength. Sobakevich’s drawing room is decorated with portraits of military heroes, from generals of the Napoleonic wars to Greek heroes. Even the furniture resembles the master of the house.

When Chichikov tries politely praising all the local officials he and Sobakevich know, Sobakevich denounces all of them as unintelligent, foolish, and corrupt. During dinner, Sobakevich rails against European cuisine, and eats copious amounts of the Russian dishes prepared by his cook, Sobakevich is proud of his bounty, claiming he is much happier than a miserly neighbor, Plyushkin, who starves his peasants. This captures Chichikov’s attention—especially the prospect of serfs dying in large numbers from neglect.

After even more food, the men retire to armchairs, and Chichikov states his business proposition. Appealing to his host’s sense of nationalism, he praises the Russian state, and its policy of listing dead peasants as still alive until a new census can take place. Sobakevich placidly asks if he would like dead souls, though they are wildly out of step on price: Chichikov will only pay 80 kopecks (the Russian equivalent of cents), while Sobakevich wants a hundred rubles per serf in compensation for the dubious legality of the project. Sobakevich praises his dead serfs’ skill and ingenuity, talking up the qualities they had in life as though they still have relevance. The two men finally reach a deal of two and a half rubles, then haggle again for a deposit on the transaction, from Chichikov, and a receipt for the full deal, from Sobakevich.

Chichikov leaves, but deliberately obscures his destination by heading the opposite way from Plyushkin’s, so Sobakevich will not know his next stop. A peasant gives Chichikov directions and endows Plyushkin with an obscene nickname the narrator does not share. Instead, the narrator closes the chapter with a long ode to the evocative possibilities of Russian colloquialisms:

Russian folk express themselves forcefully, and if they endow somebody with a nickname, it applies to a person’s kin and posterity, and that person will take it with him to his job, into retirement, to Petersburg and to the ends of the earth” (2083-84).

The narrator considers this an inescapable part of the national character.

The narrator recalls his youth, when arrival in a new place was cause for contemplation, taking in the landscape and buildings, and imagining elaborate futures for the place’s inhabitants.

Chichikov considers the peasant’s commentary on Plyushkin until the bad road jolts him to awareness. On Plyushkin’s estate, the peasant cottages are in bad shape and the grain stores nearly empty. The garden is picturesque, but overgrown. The manor house similarly reflects its owner’s neglect: “Everything suggested that this household had once enjoyed a flourishing life, but now it all looked gloomy (2168).

The main residence is dark, cheerless, and full of disorder, including randomly discarded and broken objects. Chichikov is stunned by the amount of dust. Chichikov mistakes Plyushkin himself for the butler—his attire is so haphazard and poorly stitched that “if Chichikov had met him dressed like this by the doors of a church, he would have been unable to resist giving the poor beggar a copper penny. But this was a landowner, not a beggar, standing before him” (2220-21).

The miserly Plyushkin has so much grain and manufactured goods stockpiled he could not possibly use it even if he lived far beyond a normal lifespan. He constantly scours his estate for any usable discarded object. Once he had a happy family life and was cheerful and tidy, but after his wife and youngest child died, his daughter married a military officer—a profession he does not respect—and his older son joined the military and was disowned, Plyushkin was left in solitary misery with his hoard. He keeps the peasants on a punishing schedule, but the product of their labor “was heaped in storerooms and turned into rot and rags, while the owner himself turned into human detritus” (2275-76).

Plyushkin is an outlier, as most landowners of his class spend lavishly. Chichikov, stunned by his unusual surroundings, declares he has come to behold his host’s remarkable talent for saving. Plyushkin claims he has almost no food or hay for horses, and that reports of his numerous peasants are exaggerated, as many of them have died of illness. Chichikov is overjoyed to hear that more than 100 are deceased, offers to purchase the dead souls, and assures Plyushkin he has no military connections. Plyushkin is even happier to hear Chichikov will take on the expense of the clerical costs and bribes.

To celebrate, Plyushkin summons a servant who is wearing the entire staff’s only pair of boots, orders tea, and scrapes off the spoiled parts of an ancient cake. Plyushkin curses his housekeeper for stealing his writing paper, but finally finds it as she angrily protests her innocence. When Plyushkin laments that he also has many serfs who have run away, Chichikov assures him he will purchase these too. Chichikov announces his attention to depart and insists that all preparations for tea also halt, as it is too expensive. Plyushkin is so grateful he privately contemplates giving Chichikov his watch, but decides to leave it to Chichikov in his will instead. Chichikov returns to town, overjoyed at his good fortune.