I should say that it may often contribute
towards an air of ineffectiveness in a story, which it might otherwise
be difficult to explain.
The fiction of Turgenev is on the whole a case in point, to my mind.
Turgenev was never shy of appearing in his pages as the reflective
story-teller, imparting the fruits of his observation to the reader.
He will watch a character, let us say, cross a field and enter a wood
and sit down under a tree; good, it is an opportunity for gaining a
first impression of the man or woman, it is a little scene, and
Turgenev's touch is quick and light. But then with perfect candour he
will show his hand; he will draw the reader aside and pour into his
ear a flow of information about the man or woman, information that
openly comes straight from Turgenev himself, in good pictorial form,
no doubt, but information which will never have its due weight with
the reader, because it reposes upon nothing that he can test for
himself. Who and what is this communicative participator in the
business, this vocal author? He does not belong to the book, and his
voice has not that compelling tone and tune of its own (as Thackeray's
had) which makes a reader enjoy hearing it for its own sake. This is a
small matter, I admit, but Turgenev extends it and pursues the same
kind of course in more important affairs. He remains the observant
narrator, to whom we are indebted for a share in his experience.
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