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Asya is a story about love. Would it surprise you if I added that it is a story about a traffic love? Probably not, for what is more suitable to be called literature than a well told tale of a tragic love. I would describe Asya as one of the best novellas that I have ever read. The writing is simply superb. Turgenev’s prose flows effortlessly. As always, Turgenev writes beautifully. The plot and the pace of the story are both impeccable. With the way the story is told, it’s impossible not to be moved by it, unless one has a start made of stone. That is how it seemed to me anyhow, for I remember being extremely touched while reading it.


The story opens with an unnamed narrator (N.N), a mature Russian man who thinks about his youth. After this brief introduction, we are transported to N.N’s past, to the time when he was a young man, staying abroad, recovering from an end of an affair with a married woman. N.N moves to an unnamed German city L., a city he took a liking of and like many other Turgenev’s protagonist’s he seeks solace in long walks, admiring nature and studying the scenery. N.N observes rather than acts, describing what he sees, for example German students on the streets. There is some kind of gathering on the streets, there is music, and N.N enjoys observing the cheerful faces of students, but not surprisingly he is, at the same time, in a melancholic mood. N.N is Russian after all, his soul is a mixture of joy and sadness.


Suddenly, N.N hears a masculine voice addressing a girl by the name Asya, asking Asya (in Russian) whether she had had enough. Upon hearing them, N.N turns around and sees a handsome young man and a girl whose face isn’t clearly visible. N.N proceeds to ask them whether they are Russian. Gagarin introduces himself and after a second of hesitation introduces Asya as his sister. N.N introduces himself to them. Usually, N.N. avoids other Russians when he travels/stays abroad, that is what he tells us (the reader), but N.N makes an exception, as he takes an instant liking to Gagarin, noticing that his face is that of an honest man. In addition, N.N observes that there is something special about Asya and takes a notice of her big dark eyes.


What happens next is that Gagin says to Asya that they had watched Germans enough and she agrees with her brother, and then Gagarin invited N.N to visit them in their home. N.N follows the brother and sister to their place, and when Asya takes her hat of, N.N notices Asya’s black hair, cut short as a boy’s hair. Three of them spent hours together, their talk lasting for hours. The day turns into night, and they can still hear music from the city. Once it gets late, Asya excuses herself and goes to bed. Gagarin and N.N talk a bit more and when N.N returns home, he feels happy, but he can’t understand why he is so happy. What does it mean, N.N asked himself? Am I in love?


Early in the morning, Gagarin pays N.N a visit. Long story short, the three become friends and end up spending a lot of time together. Asya’s acts a bit odd at times, and this confuses N.N, but it is pretty obvious that these two are falling in love with one another. However, N.N continues to be confused by Asya’s inconsistent behaviour. What confuses N.N is that something Asya acts like a well brought up young lady and sometimes not. N.N starts to suspect that Asya’s is not truly Gagarin’s sister, but his mistress, until there comes a time when Gagarin speaks to N.N openly. Gagarin ends up telling N.N the full story of Asya’s history, something they have been keeping secret for a good reason. Asya is Gagarin’s half-sister, a bastard daughter of Gagarin father, raised with love but in difficult circumstances. Gagarin’s father only begged Gagarin to take care of her on his death bed. After hearing this story, N.N is better able to understand her character. All the things that seem contradictory about Asya’s behaviour, now appear more clear to N.N. Asya’s behaviour and her strong attachment to her brother suddenly make sense in context of the isolated way she was raised. Gagarin begs N.N to be careful of the way he treats Asya, because she is such a sensitive girl.


I absolutely loved the characterization of the main female character Asya. The view into her soul was both fascinating and extremely touching. Asya’s sensibility could move anyone. There are so many things one can admire in this novella, for example the painfully accurate way the falling in love is described, but what I admired most about this one was the wonderful portrayal of this innocent young girl. Is there anything sweeter than a first love? The theme of first love is something Turgenev explored often. Supposedly, Turgenev drew from his own life experiences when he wrote this novella. In my view, that makes it even more touching.


What happens next? Is a spoiler to say that they didn’t live happily ever after? After all, I said that in the very first paragraph, warned you that this is a story about a tragic love. Like Lermontov's protagonist of Hero of Our Times, our N.N is indecisive and afraid of his own emotions. In addition, N.N seems to be confused by the enormity of the love he feels. Perhaps N.N feels that his love, as great it might be, cannot possibly measure up to the object of his love. So, N.N waits, while Asya suffers. The reader is tempted to hate N.N because of his passivity, only if N.N wasn’t so reluctant to defend himself. N.N honesty and self-reproach, make it hard for us readers to reproach him. Finally, aren’t we all afraid to love? Aren’t we all afraid of those we love? Aren’t we afraid for those we love? Isn’t love as frightening as it is wonderful? Isn’t it so easy to miss that perfect moment? Sometimes a moment in which we can profess our love is but a fleeting instant. Sometimes life takes that one opportunity to love from us. Sometimes it is our own fault, but it is not always easy to seize love, to know what the right moment is, to recognize it when it's there. When we are young, it seems to us that the opportunities for love are endless. When we grow older, we realize how fragile and fleeting love can be, even when it is true.