"The Postmaster" is only one example of Pushkin's work which creates false expectations in the mind of the reader. Another story which creates this effect is "An Amateur Peasant Girl." In this story, a girl named Liza disguises herself as a peasant in order to meet with a man of her social stature who is a member of a rival family. There are several instances throughout the story in which the reader could expect Liza to be discovered, but none more prominent than when her object of desire Alexei and his family come to dine at her father's estate. However, despite all expectation, Liza is able to disguise herself with enough makeup that Alexei doesn't recognize her and her charade continues. Then, at the end of the story, Alexei and Liza begin to receive pressure to marry one another from their respective fathers, and Liza fears that Alexei's anger will be immense upon the discovery of her lie. However, when he surprises Liza at home and discovers that she is the true identity of his beloved Akoulina, there is not even the slightest hint of anger. Not only that, but he embraces her despite her shock, and it is reasonable to assume that the two are later married. Again, the author refuses convention and does not give in to the pressures of expectation. In tales such as these, the reader has no choice but to finish the story in order to discover its outcome, and even then it isn't always clear.

Remembrance

by Aleksandr Pushkin

When the loud day for men who sow and reap
Grows still, and on the silence of the town
The unsubstantial veils of night and sleep,
The meed of the day's labour, settle down,
Then for me in the stillness of the night
The wasting, watchful hours drag on their course,
And in the idle darkness comes the bite
Of all the burning serpents of remorse;
Dreams seethe; and fretful infelicities
Are swarming in my over-burdened soul,
And Memory before my wakeful eyes
With noiseless hand unwinds her lengthy scroll.
Then, as with loathing I peruse the years,
I tremble, and I curse my natal day,
Wail bitterly, and bitterly shed tears,
But cannot wash the woeful script away.


--Translated by Maurice Baring

From "World Poetry," edited by Katharine Washburn, John S. Major and Clifton Fadiman (W.W. Norton: 1,338 pp.)