How Much Land Does a Man Need

“When he went out to plough his fields, or to look at his growing corn, or at his grass-meadow, his heart would fill with joy. The grass that grew and the flowers that bloomed there seemed to him unlike any that grew elsewhere. Formerly, when he had passed by that land, it had appeared the same as any other land, but now it seemed quite different.”

These are Pahóm’s thoughts after he has purchased his first 40 acres. For the first time, he has land of his own, and his thoughts show how ownership influences his perception. There is something special about the grass and the flowers now, just because he can call them his own. Pride of ownership is so pleasurable and meaningful to him that he soon wants more. The seeds of his downfall have already been planted.

“I cannot go on overlooking it, or they will destroy all I have. They must be taught a lesson.”

Having made his first purchase of land, Pahóm now has a problem, as the neighboring peasants are trespassing on his corn fields and meadows. He knows this is because they do not have much land, but nonetheless he begins to fine the peasants for their transgressions. He does not seem to realize that he is doing exactly what the lady landowner’s steward once did to him, much to his anger. This shows his ruthlessness in pursuing his goals and the calculating way he now views his fellow humans; as a landowner, he now feels entitled to “teach a lesson” to those he views as inferior.

“The land was so good, he said, that the rye sown on it grew as high as a horse, and so thick that five cuts of a sickle made a sheaf. One peasant, he said, had brought nothing with him but his bare hands, and now he had six horses and two cows of his own.”

This is what a visiting peasant tells Pahóm about the settlement beyond the Volga, to which many peasants from his area are moving. It is part of the plot pattern whereby Pahóm acquires new information. Someone shows up and tells him something that kindles his envy and greed. Ever more easily dissatisfied, he is swayed when he hears about others who, he thinks, have it better than he does. He has to take action to catch up and live what he thinks will be a better life.

“Why should I suffer in this narrow hole, if one can live so well elsewhere? I will sell my land and my homestead here, and with the money I will start afresh over there and get everything new. In this crowded place one is always having trouble. But I must first go and find out all about it myself.”

In a familiar pattern, as soon as Pahóm hears of another opportunity, he sours on his present situation. In this case, he thinks the presence of others impedes his freedom—another indication of his growing pride and entitlement. Pahóm appears, from his own perspective, to be doing everything right. He is planning a better life, and he is very careful in his plans; he does not just act on what he has heard but makes an exploratory trip himself. His careful, rational planning obscures the reality of the trap he is setting for himself (or that is being set for him by the Devil).

“At first, in the bustle of building and settling down, Pahóm was pleased with it all, but when he got used to it he began to think that even here he had not enough land.”

Pahóm is a character study of a man who is chronically dissatisfied with whatever he has. His contentment with any new situation he creates for himself lasts only a short while, after which he starts telling himself that he is in some way deprived. His solution is always the same: He needs more land.

“As far as the men were concerned, drinking kumiss and tea, eating mutton, and playing on their pipes, was all they cared about. They were all stout and merry, and all the summer long they never thought of doing any work. They were quite ignorant, and knew no Russian, but were good-natured enough.”

This is a description of the Bashkir people. They are different from Pahóm in almost every way, including language. The fact that he does not understand what they say is symbolic of how they seem to come from a different world. They are not industrious, Pahóm thinks; they do not value land in the way that Pahóm does; they like to become inebriated by drinking kumiss, in contrast to the sober Pahóm. Pahóm does not realize that the people whom he regards as ignorant might have something to teach him.

“Life and death are in God’s hands.”

These are Pahóm’s words to the Bashkir Chief. However, Pahóm is not a pious man, and this is not a thoughtful reflection on life from a religious perspective. Pahóm is simply worried that even if the Chief gives him some land, the Chief’s children might decide to take it from him. He therefore asks if he may have a title-deed for the land. Pahóm’s statement thus merely mimics the calm acceptance of God’s will that the words imply. His perspective on life remains confined to his own narrow interests, as he perceives them.

“‘What a large tract I will mark off!’ thought he. ‘I can easily do thirty-five miles in a day. The days are long now, and within a circuit of thirty-five miles what a lot of land there will be! I will sell the poorer land, or let it to peasants, but I'll pick out the best and farm it. I will buy two ox-teams, and hire two more laborers. About a hundred and fifty acres shall be plow-land, and I will pasture cattle on the rest.’”

True to form, as Pahóm sets out on his final, fatal expedition, he is busy measuring out things in his mind, planning what he will do with this big square of land that he believes he is about to acquire. The situation, however, is full of irony. While he dreams of imminent prosperity, his life is about to spiral out of control.

“‘What things one does dream,’ thought he.”

Pahóm may be an astute businessman, but he lacks self-insight, even when his subconscious mind presents him with a symbolic dream. The dream he has just before he is to mark out his square of Bashkir land points to the role the Devil has played in his life and even foreshadows his own death. Although the dream horrifies him at first, he soon dismisses it as an oddity that cannot be explained. He is, as usual, oblivious to the way he is steadily moving toward death and damnation.

“He considered for some moments which way he had better go—it was tempting everywhere.”

Pahóm’s thoughts are truer than he knows. He is considering what route to take as he marks out the Bashkir land he wants; the land is so good that it is hard for him to make a decision. However, the word “tempting” has a wider, more ominous, and often spiritual meaning that does not occur to him. This is an example of dramatic irony—a moment in which the audience or reader knows something a character does not. For Pahóm, temptation lies everywhere because he has allowed the Devil to take control of his life.

“‘What shall I do,’ he thought again, ‘I have grasped too much, and ruined the whole affair. I can’t get there before the sun sets.’”

At last, Pahóm gets some insight into how his greed has misled him. However, he still does not realize the gravity of the situation he is in. His self-knowledge is only partial. He thinks he is not going to get the land he set his mind on and that he will lose the 1,000 rubles he put down for it, but he does not recognize the Devil’s machinations, nor how all his previous actions have led him to this crisis. His self-knowledge is too little and comes too late.

“Pahóm went on running, his soaking shirt and trousers stuck to him, and his mouth was parched. His breast was working like a blacksmith’s bellows, his heart was beating like a hammer, and his legs were giving way as if they did not belong to him. Pahóm was seized with terror lest he should die of the strain.”

Not only is Pahóm fearful that he will not get the land he has set his mind on, but he now begins to fear that he will not survive the effort. Tolstoy conveys in economical language the desperate state Pahóm is in and the physical stress he is enduring, which contrast dramatically with the easy way he was walking just a few hours earlier. His physical decline accompanies the descent of the sun toward the horizon.

“He reached the top and saw the cap. Before it sat the Chief laughing and holding his sides. Again Pahóm remembered his dream, and he uttered a cry: his legs gave way beneath him, he fell forward and reached the cap with his hands.”

At the moment of his most extreme desperation, Pahóm remembers his dream for the second time within a few minutes and knows he is lost. There is a cruel irony in his fate: Although he does reach the cap just in time, in a wider sense time has run out for him. The laughing figure of the Chief starkly contrasts with Pahóm’s agony, and the narration’s spare style does not elaborate on the reason for his laughter. Perhaps the Chief is happy that Pahóm has (he believes) succeeded, but he may also be laughing at Pahóm’s greed and obsession, which must seem to the Chief strange and inexplicable.