In the Russian novel The Hero of Our Time, translated by Vladimir and Dmitri Nabokov, the author Mikhail Lermontov recounts the travels of the alienated and manipulative Pechorin, a military officer of upper middle class grappling with destiny in their attempts to interact with women. In the novella “Princess Mary”, Pechorin writes that he considers his fate, predicted by the old woman as “death by an evil wife”, as an “ineffable premonition”; he is convinced that it will come true and, as such, carries in his soul an “insurmountable aversion” to marriage (Lermontov 137). As such, Pechorin's relationships with women are marked by his ever-present awareness of his supposed fate, and it is this fear that drives his treatment of them. His treatment of women can be interpreted as heroic, due to his respect towards them, especially compared to his peers, but also as indicative of an antihero, due to his manipulation of them. Describing Pechorin's relationship with women as an expression of his fear of fate, Lermontov suggests that there is no hero: the complexity of human nature prevents an assessment as such. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an original essay Lermontov's description of Bela as exotic and foreign paints Pechorin as neither heroic nor unheroic, but also distinctly human in his desperation for his fate, suggesting that such a definition is meaningless. From the beginning, Bela is exotic: Lermontov introduces her to a quasi-ethnic "Asian" wedding, where she is repeatedly described as a "gazelle" (Lermontov 25). This objectification frames Pechorin's lust for her as a strange and foreign beauty, which nevertheless appears crude and superficial. Lermontov reinforces this impression when Pechorin calls Kazbich a “bandit” while he himself is a “husband” (Lermontov 31). This typical arrogance seems unfounded, especially since it was Pechorin himself who engineered the deal to steal Bela. It goes without saying that Lermontov's initial presentation of Pechorin is one of ignobility, superficiality, not heroism. Later, however, he gives her some Persian fabrics, an act that seems rather unheroic in his attempt to "buy" her love, but Maksim Maksimych is right that it is "not at all the same thing" as doing it with a Russian girl ( Lermontov 36). Maksim's digression about Bela being strange and exotic is indicative of something else: culturally, a gift of fabrics is a symbol of intent, of marriage. For the first time, Lermontov characterizes their relationship as more than just exotic sex appeal; rather than keeping her as a concubine, as the previous pages would suggest, Pechorin respects her enough to consider her his wife: commendable, perhaps even heroic, in itself, but especially given what would have been recent events. Chronologically, “The Fatalist” would have occurred directly before “Bela,” and at the conclusion of that story, despite being convinced of predestination, Pechorin never “rejects anything decisively, nor trusts blindly” (Lermontov 169). . As such, the gift is an act of desperation – neither heroic nor unheroic, but simply human – in an attempt to “test fate” as he did in “The Fatalist” with the Cossack, and wish for the prophecy to be proven wrong. Lermontov's image of Pechorin laughing after Bela's death, therefore, depicts not a man indifferent to the death of his lover, but a man destroyed by the confirmation of his fate. Pechorin's laughter is neither representative of a hero moving forward nor of anti-heroic indifference, but of a complex human being. Likewise, the representation ofLermontov's portrayal of Pechorin's relationship with Princess Mary as an expression of his need to maintain control contextualizes fate as a continuous specter that haunts their relationships, suggesting that a “hero” cannot exist. Even before Pechorin and Mary establish any contact, Lermontov frames jealousy as a motivation for his interactions with her. Pechorin writes that Grushnitsky's seriousness “envelops him in the winter chill” (Lermontov 89). The ice of Pechorin's jealousy parallels the apparent coldness with which Pechorin subsequently manipulates Mary, and for a moment, Lermontov projects him as the furthest possible thing from a hero. Therefore, their early interactions are characterized by manipulation; Pechorin writes joyfully that Mary hates him, noting with a kind of vindictive pride that he is the subject of “caustic, but…flattering” epigrams (96). Lermontov's juxtaposition of two strongly connotative words highlights that what Pechorin finds flattering in these epigrams is precisely their causticity; he appreciates having power over Mary, being the object of her anguish and attention. When Pechorin reflects on why he is playing with Maria so intensely, Pechorin writes that his main pleasure is to "subjugate to [his] will everything around him" (Lermontov 116). Lermontov develops a seemingly despicable and unheroic character, at once self-reflective and proud of his own actions, through Pechorin's grandiose and arrogant tone as he writes this. But this maniacal desire – to control everything around him – reflects his desire to control his own destiny. Therefore, when Pechorin cannot see Maria when she is ill, he writes in disbelief: “Could it be that I really fell in love? …What nonsense!” (Lermontov 127). In the use of ellipses, Lermontov creates a natural pause in the flow of the text, emphasizing that the reason Pechorin is so against the idea that he is in love is because he has lost control; he fell in love not by his own will and manipulation, but simply because it happened, not to mention the fact that Pechorin is undoubtedly aware of his supposed fate. When it becomes apparent that he should marry Mary, then, he finally introduces this prophecy and how it has loomed over him his entire life – he states that he will not “sell [his] freedom” (Lermontov 137). Lermontov's construction of the comparison between marriage and the sale of freedom – with slavery – highlights Pechorin's need to maintain control. Furthermore, this parallels his fear of fate, which stems from the fear of not being able to control his own destiny. What is interesting here is that if fate really existed, as Pechorin believes, he would not have the freedom to sell in the first place. Ultimately, however, Lermontov's illustration of the relationship between Pechorin and Vera reveals Pechorin's capacity - and, indeed, need - for true love despite his supposed fate; whether he is a hero or not becomes irrelevant. Pechorin himself admits that Vera is the only one who completely understood him and his "small weaknesses and evil passions" (Lermontov 141). Lermontov's alliteration of words with strong negative connotations suggests that Pechorin understands why he might be despised, but also emphasizes his appreciation of Vera's unconditional love. Her occasional distance from Vera could be heroic - for respecting her husband - or unheroic - for neglecting her love - yet the question of heroism is foreign here; regardless of his actions, Pechorin's dilemmas are complex and cannot be reduced to a simple yes/no binary. Later, after noticing Vera's jealousy of Mary, Pechorin comments on the illogical female mind. Present.