I finished reading Chatsky (or The Misery of Having a Mind), a play in verse written in 1823 by Alexander Griboyedov (translated by Joshua Cooper). It’s also known as Woe from Wit in some English translations.

It is a satirical look at Russian society, especially the prejudices and preoccupations of the aristocracy. Although humorous, there is much serious reflection, and the main character, Chatsky, seems like an early incarnation of the “superfluous man.”

“What, then, did I expect?
What did I think I’d find, when I got here?
The joy of meeting? Somebody who cares?
The happy cry? The arms around? All blank.
As on a road across a never-ending plain,
While you sit idle in the carriage,
There’s something you can see, always ahead of you,
Different-looking, blue and shimmering;
You drive one hour, two hours, all day, till suddenly
Up comes the rest-house and the night-stop.
And then it’s all the same whichever way you look;
Flat, bare, dead, empty steppe.
Utter frustration, The more you think about it…”