This is all in fine melodramatic style, but once again I find it curious that Vladimar did not think to have the marriage declared invalid either. Another thing I wondered was did Maria begin to like Bourmin because she thought he might be the man she accidentally married during the snowstorm, or did she begin to hope that he was the man she accidentally married during the snowstorm because she had begun to like him? Her statement of "My God! My God! Then it was you! And do you not recognize me?" (66) leads one to conjecture that she had suspected Bourmin's identity, or at least hoped. If by saying Pushkin likes to trick and frustrate the reader one means that he raises these questions in the readers' minds, then I have to agree that Pushkin is indeed very frustrating. As far as raising and then frustrating expectations goes, I will readily admit that I expected the two lovers to meet again after Vladimar had completed his military service and to properly get married once the reason that Vladimar was unable to make it to the church on time was explained, and thus was quite surprised when it was revealed that Maria had accidentally married someone else and that the happy ending was to be theirs, not Maria and Vladimar's. While the entire story is, as I said, in fine melodramatic style I had expected a fine melodramatic happy ending between Maria and Vladimar, and was thus surprised to see the inclusion of a new character at the end.

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.)