This is one of my most favourite books, as long as it is not the Everyman's Library edition. It a masterpiece of Russian literature that too often is overlooked.
One of the most poignant scenes is when tears gently slide down his cheek as his companion is playing the piano. When asked if the music moves him so, he replies "It is not the music...it is love!", then making a quick retreat from the room. That scene is a metaphor for what Oblomov had done most of his life: run away from it.
One can take this as a sad tale of someone wasting their life, or one can take it as a man taking pleasures in the simple things in life. Either way, it is an excellent book.
One of the most poignant scenes is when tears gently slide down his cheek as his companion is playing the piano. When asked if the music moves him so, he replies "It is not the music...it is love!", then making a quick retreat from the room. That scene is a metaphor for what Oblomov had done most of his life: run away from it.
One can take this as a sad tale of someone wasting their life, or one can take it as a man taking pleasures in the simple things in life. Either way, it is an excellent book.
