29 pages • 58 minutes read
Nikolai GogolA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Collegiate Assessor “Major” Kovalyov is Gogol’s protagonist in The Nose: a civil officer of Imperial Russia who takes great pride in his appearance, looks down on others, likes to pick up women, and treats working class people very disrespectfully. His rank is everything to him:
to add to his own importance and dignity, he never described himself as a Collegiate Assessor, that is to say, a civil servant of the eighth rank, but always as a major, that is to say, by the corresponding rank in the army” (208).
When Kovalyov wakes one day to find that his nose has inexplicably disappeared from his face, his comfortable life is thrown into disarray. When he encounters the missing nose cavorting around town in the uniform of a State Councillor—a rank Kovalyov himself can only dream of one day attaining—he teeters on the edge of an existential crisis.
Kovalyov, however, is too fundamentally shallow and status-obsessed for this crisis to lead to any useful insight. He endures a period of great agitation, hiding his face from friends and strangers alike while doing everything he can to manipulate the city's institutions of power—the newspaper, the police force—to his advantage. He encounters obstacles at every turn, but nothing induces him to reconsider his superficial view of the world. When he does get his nose back, it has nothing to do with his own efforts. The nose is returned to him by a police officer and, later, reappears on his face as inexplicably as it disappeared in the first place. Rather than humbling himself and learning not to take his good fortune for granted, he happily packs both nostrils with snuff and laughs about the stupidity of the women he is with, eager to forget the whole incident and return to the happily oblivious life he was living before.
The antagonist of the story is the nose himself (referred to as “he” in his personified form), who is in many ways the most sympathetic character in the story for his calm but unwavering assertion of his individuality and autonomy. The nose is an evasive character, the mysterious object and force driving the story, and a symbol of the vanity of the ruling class.
When Kovalyov encounters the nose entering a cathedral, he immediately recognizes not only that this is his nose, but that his nose is in every way his superior—truly the model of what Kovalyov hopes to become as a successful citizen of the Russian Empire: “He was wearing a gold-embroidered uniform with a big stand-up collar and doeskin breeches; there was a sword at his side. From his plumed hat one could infer that he held the rank of state councilor. Everything pointed to his being on the way to pay a call” (209). Inside the church, Kovalyov finds the nose “saying his prayers with an expression of the utmost piety,” while Kovalyov himself is in such a state of disarray that he is unable either to pray or to laugh at the beggars outside the church, as he usually does. The nose is perfectly at ease and in his element, while Kovalyov has been thrown out of his.
In this encounter, the nose regards Kovalyov as a stranger, insisting on his own autonomy and implying his social superiority to Kovalyov. “You are mistaken, sir,” the nose tells Kovalyov. “I am myself. Besides, there can be no question of any intimate relation between us. I see, sir, from the buttons of your uniform that you are serving in a different department” (211). In this moment, the nose is utterly estranged from Kovalyov, and Kovalyov is at his lowest ebb, “utterly confounded, not knowing what to do or even what to think” (211). The loss of his nose—who is now operating in the world as a separate person who doesn’t even recognize him—has temporarily robbed Kovalyov of faith in himself and his secure, ordered world.
When the nose is returned, it becomes an inanimate object again as mysteriously as it became a person. All it takes is the shifting of a pronoun. When Kovalyov asks the police officer how the nose was found, the officer first refers to the nose as “he”:
He even had a passport made out in the name of a certain civil servant. And the funny thing is that at first I was myself inclined to take him for a gentleman. But luckily I was wearing my glasses at the time and I saw at once that it was a nose (222).
At this, as if performing a magic trick, the officer hands over the nose wrapped in a piece of paper—an ordinary nose now, not a person at all. The act of seeing the nose as a nose, as an it, has made it so.
Ivan Yakovlevich, the barber who apparently is responsible for Kovalyov’s nose going missing, is “like any self-respecting Russian artisan [...] a terrible drunkard” and “...a great cynic…” but also, according to the narrator, “...in many ways a respectable man” (60). His family name has been lost and his barbershop is falling apart, and from these descriptions we get the sense that he and his wife Praskovya Osipovna are working class. When Ivan discovers a nose in the bread his wife has baked, she immediately accuses him of having cut off someone’s nose. Fed up with him, she kicks him out of the house.
Part 1 ends with Ivan having been stopped by a police officer who has seen him dropping something (the nose, wrapped in a cloth) from St. Isaac’s Bridge. Though this scene ends abruptly, by the end of Part 2, it becomes clear that Ivan was arrested as “the chief accomplice” in the nose’s disappearance (222). The phrase “chief accomplice,” never explained, suggests that the nose itself may be considered the primary culprit. The fact that Ivan Yakovlevich has been so unfairly treated on Kovalyov’s behalf makes it all the more striking when, in Part 3, after overhearing Kovalyov’s joy at having his nose restored, he reluctantly peeks his head in and offers Kovalyov his usual shave, which Kovalyov accepts after making Ivan promise that his hands are clean.
Unlike Kovalyov, Ivan Yakovlevich experiences a change: in the beginning, he shaves Kovalyov rebelliously with dirty hands reeking of snuff. By the end, he is eager to please the unrepentant but restored Kovalyov with a shave, and so washes his hands. The change in Ivan, however, is not one of moral improvement but of fear. He has been jailed and likely beaten for a crime he can’t even be sure he didn’t commit. When he knocks at Kovalyov’s door after the restoration of the nose, he does so “as timidly as a cat which had just been thrashed for the theft of suet” (229). Because of his working-class status, both fate and the law land more heavily on him than on others. Something inexplicable happened to his customer, and he was punished for it. He returns to his life newly aware of how capriciously it can be taken away from him, while Kovalyov, his nose safely back where it belongs, is more self-assured than ever.
The police officer is a static character whose purpose in the narrative is to return the nose back to Kovalyov, only for the nose to not reattach. Gogol describes him as being a police officer “...of distinguished appearance, with wide sideburns, wearing a three-cornered hat and with a sword” (60).
Kovalyov initially goes to the police not because they have anything to do with the case, but because he knows “...they could act much more quickly than any other institution” (65). The Russian bureaucracy is huge, complex, and slow-moving, but the local police are free to act with authoritarian swiftness.
The police officer’s treatment of the working-class barber Ivan Yakovlevich is markedly different from his treatment of Kovalyov—a minor official. With Ivan, he immediately suspects him of a crime in part due to Ivan’s class status and speaks to him in a gruff and threatening manner. With Kovalyov, he acts with humility in hopes of soliciting a tip. The police officer is also the only character who interacts with both Kovalyov and Yakovlevich, thus highlighting the class disparities between them.
This contrast is revealed by what the police officer says about himself. To Yakovlevich, he brags about his three barbers who shave him regularly and deem it a great honor, but to Kovalyov, he tells a sob story about how his mother-in-law is living with him and he and his wife can’t afford to educate their eldest child. As a police officer, he is the embodiment of the law—a law that is strikingly different for the rich than it is for the poor.
By Nikolai Gogol