Onegin: perspective and passion

There are obvious differences between Alexander Pushkin's poem Eugene Onegin and the 1999 film (directed by Martha Fiennes) based on it. This is due largely to the difficulty of translating Pushkin's indirect narrative style into action on a screen. Whatever discrepancies of detail exist, the most important divergence between the poem and the film is the latter's lack of a narrator. This changes several features of the text.

Because the voice of Pushkin is silent in the movie, the viewer must take more of the burden of interpretation upon himself. In the poem, a specific subjective evaluation -- the opinion of the narrator -- defines the meaning of the events described in the text. In the film, the "text" purports to be objective. It is a sequence of images put on display. Meaning is in the hands of the audience. This is not to say that Pushkin's poem makes interpretation easy; on the contrary, its narration adds facets to the story that are never seen in the film. The reader of the poem takes in not only the sequence of events but also an observer’s evaluation of them, both through the eyes of the real author, before responding himself. The viewer of the film, conversely, sees the sequence of events and various actors' interpretations of the characters involved -- both through the eyes of the filmmakers -- but the actors' and filmmakers' interpretations are the visible reality of the story. The movie never admits its own subjectivity, but the poem does so freely: "The Muse appeared as love was ending and cleared the darkened mind she found. Once free, I seek again the blending of feeling, thought, and magic sound" (stanza 59).

This shift in perspective carries with it a shift in the audience's perception of time. The poem is over before it begins. Although the reader waits to see how the story will progress, he begins with an awareness of the poem's purpose, intended psychological effects, and apparent conclusions about love. The nostalgic tone in the poem is missing from the film, and the viewer of the film does not benefit from the narrator's hindsight when trying to comprehend Eugene Onegin's character. As a result, the movie's Onegin is relatively incomplete, and it is more difficult to draw conclusions of meaning from his experiences. It is not easy to see past his immediate circumstances. The poem, on the other hand, offers glimpses of a larger story.

The audience of the movie is not left entirely to its own devices, however. The viewer's understanding of the plot is shaped (or limited) by the understanding that Onegin is its protagonist. A narrative frame still exists even though the narrator’s voice has disappeared. However, because Onegin rather than the narrator is the audience's ultimate reference point, the audience's understanding of Onegin must change. Comparing an early passage of the poem with the film's depiction of the relationship between Onegin and Vladimir Lensky provides an example of this. The narrator of the poem, in stanza 54, declares a love for the countryside and languid poetry, contrasting this with Onegin’s restlessness and inability to appreciate "lonely fields and burbling brook" for long. This pastoral reference point is supplanted in the movie. No rural poet observes Onegin sympathetically; the rural poet Lensky is observed somewhat unsympathetically by Onegin. This may make it more difficult for some viewers to identify with the protagonist.

Most importantly, Pushkin's narrator hints at a solution to the quandary his poem illustrates. The narrator defines the poem in the beginning as an attempt to find satisfaction and peace. He explains that he met Onegin when both of them were disillusioned and tired of the pursuits of society -- both love and letters. They looked for escape in travel, but Onegin suddenly found himself in possession of a country estate. Despite initial satisfaction, Onegin soon became bored again. The narrator, however, professes to be pleased by country life. Apparently, this existence was enough to calm his desires. Freed from the "witless and maddened pangs of love's refrain," the narrator is at last able to write again; he takes the opportunity to compose a poem about his friend's continuing search (stanza 58). In the film adaptation, on the other hand, this prospect of fulfillment cannot be seen. Although the problem remains the same, there seems to be no possibility of a solution. No one in the movie finds contentment in the countryside; the rural characters are just as restless as Onegin. Love is beyond reach, but so are other forms of happiness.

Thus, the perspective of the narrator may be considered a defining feature of the poem, certainly a feature important to understanding the intent of the author. With the voice of the narrator missing, the film adaptation departs from the Romantic tradition and joins modern pessimism. No voice enters the story to provide hope or resolution. There is no narrator, and there is no narrator's muse. Onegin's identity is ambiguous. Onegin's purpose is unknown. Onegin is alone.

Onegin. Screenplay by Peter Ettedgui and Michael Ignatieff. Dir. Martha Fiennes. Samuel Goldwyn Films, 1999.

Pushkin, Alexander Sergeyevich. Eugene Onegin (excerpt). Trans. J. E. Falen. The Longman Anthology of World Literature. Gen. ed. David Damrosch. Vol. E. Eds. Marshall Brown and Bruce Robbins. New York: Pearson Longman, 2004. 296-302.