The stereotypes of country dwellers being crass and uncouth and city dwellers being urbane and sophisticated is one that reaches all the way back to Ancient Rome. In Carmen 22, Catullus describes his good friend Suffenus whom he admires for being venustus et dicax et urbanus (charming, well-spoken and sophisticated). The Latin word urbanus, from which the English word urban is derived, literally means a person from the city who is sophisticated. But Catullus sadly notes that Suffenus is an awful poet and when one reads his compositions he appears to be caprimulgus aut fossor (a goat herder or a ditch digger) and he is infaceto est infacetior rure (duller than a dull hick). Rus, ruris becomes in English the word rural which is associated with someone who lives in the countryside and is decidedly unsophisticated.
Sofia Khvoshchinskaya, a nineteenth century Russian author who wrote and published her works under a male pseudonym, uses the stereotype of city folk and country folk to satirize the landed gentry in the time period immediately following the emancipation of the serfs in her country. Her main character, Erast Sergeyovich Ovcharov, is an urbane and worldly man who is used to living in Moscow and traveling to the most famous cities across Europe. He is proud of his elegance and refinement and thinks that exposure to his good qualities will elevate the manners of his country neighbors.
Ovcharov’s country estate in Snetki has fallen into ruins and he has not come to any agreement with his serfs who have just been freed so he is forced to spend a summer among the country bumpkins. Ovcharov is a humorous caricature of the Russian nobility who views himself as a perfect example of charm and wit for the poor country folk who do not regularly visit the city. He is haughty, condescending and patronizing to his neighbors in the country and he writes political pamphlets that fully display his self-righteous personality. He comments about the rural gentry women he encounters:
The old rural gentry-woman type has barely changed: moral and physical clumsiness. On the other hand, the old despotism has disappeared, and the younger generation is spreading its wings. It spreads them clumsily, crudely, gracelessly, but spread them it does. It raises its own voice and acts, to some extent, according to its own will. The second-rate shrinking violet of the past, oppressed by the parental right hand, is also being transformed into a second-rate dahlia. Still it is a beautiful flower, bright and attractive in a flower bed. Yes, it’s true: the younger generation of women in the countryside and provincial towns in freer than it was twenty years ago. Now is the time to show that who deserves thanks for this freedom.
Ovcharov rents a bath house from his neighbor, Natasyha, who is a kind-hearted widow that has successfully managed her own farms and workers for many years. Natasyha’s daughter, Olenka, is smart and witty and when she rejects Ovcharov’s advances the irony of the situation is hilarious. It is Olenka, the seemingly country hick, that rejects the urbane, supposedly sophisticated, Ovcharov. Olenka is smart enough to see Ovcharov for the ridiculous man he truly is. The author’s wit is subtle yet affective in providing a glimpse into the lives of the Russian upper classes in the 19th century.