INTRODUCTION TO THE PEASANT STORIES OF S. T. SEMENOF
I HAVE long since made it a rule to judge every art production from three sides: first, from the side of the subject, how far important or necessary to men is that which is opened up newly by the artist, for every production is only so far a production of art as it discovers a new side of life; secondly, how far good and beautiful, corresponding to the subject, is the form of the production; and thirdly, how far is the artist's relation to his object genuine, in other words, how far does he believe in what he has produced.
This last always seems to me the most important to an art production. It gives the art production its strength, it makes the art production contagious—that is to say, it communicates to the spectator, the hearer, or the reader the feelings experienced by the artist.
In this respect Semenof is gifted to the highest degree.
There is a story by Flaubert, translated by Turgenief—"Julian." The last episode of the story, which ought to be the most touching, represents Julian lying on a bed together with a leper, and warming him with his body. This leper is Christ, who carries Julian with Him to heaven. The whole thing is described with great skill, but in reading this story I am always left perfectly cold and indifferent. I feel that the author would not have done and would not have cared to do what his hero did, and, therefore, I have no desire to do it, and I experience no emotion on reading of this marvelous exploit.
But here Semenof writes the simplest story, and it always affects me. A country lad comes to Moscow to find a place, and under the protection of a coachman from his own village, in service with a rich merchant,
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