Oblomovism Explained: A Quick Guide to Ivan Goncharov’s Russian Masterpiece Oblomov

Goncharov had the nickname “Prince of Sloth.” Oblomov’s childhood memories are, in fact, Goncharov’s own. He was born in Simbirsk in 1812 into a wealthy merchant family. The Goncharovs lived in a large stone house in the very center of the city, with an extensive yard and garden.

In his autobiographical essay “At Home,” Ivan Alexandrovich described his childhood home: “A large yard, even two yards, with many buildings: servants’ quarters, stables, barns, sheds, granaries, a poultry house, and a bathhouse. Our own horses, cows, even goats and sheep, chickens and ducks—all this inhabited both yards. Granaries, cellars, icehouses were overflowing with provisions of flour, various grains, and all kinds of food for us and our extensive household. In short, a whole estate, a village…”

Although the boy had an older sister and brother, and two more sisters later, he grew up spoiled. No one kept track of what he read, where he walked, or who he played with and what games.

When Vanya Goncharov was 7 years old, his father died suddenly, and his godfather, a former sailor named Nikolai Nikolaevich Tregubov, took over his upbringing. Tregubov spent several years teaching the boy various sciences, preparing him for entry into a commercial school.

Ultimately, Ivan Alexandrovich entered the school, then Moscow University, and only returned to his native Simbirsk after graduating from the university. He was horrified to notice that nothing had changed in his estate over the intervening years; people seemed to be living in a sleepy kingdom.

Like Oblomov, who never visited his estate once during 12 years of living in St. Petersburg, Goncharov was not known for his practicality. He only visited Simbirsk twice after his final move to the capital: when he was 37 and 50 years old. Ivan Alexandrovich completely transferred the house, which his mother’s will designated for her sons, to his older brother, taking his share of the inheritance in money.

Ivan Goncharov’s close friends were the Maykovs, a married couple. They hired him as a home tutor for their elder sons and quickly grew close to the writer. The head of the family, the painter Nikolai Maykov, had his own literary and artistic circle, which published a handwritten journal and almanac. After meeting the 26-year-old Goncharov, Maykov invited him to contribute to one of the issues. This marked the publication of Ivan Alexandrovich’s poems and his first novellas.

In those years, a popular author was the Austrian diplomat Prince Charles-Joseph de Ligne, who served in Russia. His memoirs and essays were written with humor and self-irony, making them easily quotable. By analogy with the surname of this fashionable writer, Goncharov was nicknamed “Prince of Sloth” in the Maykov circle due to his unhurried nature and love for comfort. And what else could the author of “Oblomov” have been?

Apollon Maykov, Goncharov’s student, outlived his teacher by six years. Upon learning of Ivan Alexandrovich’s death, he wrote these lines: “Today we read in the newspapers about Goncharov’s passing — he lived 80 years — a good catch. But, God, how sad his life was during those years! Loneliness, frailty. How many novels in life he experienced — loved — but did not sacrifice himself — did not dedicate himself to the one he loved, and to what should have resulted from that… What was the ideal of his life? What did he strive for, what did he truly love, i.e., what idea?… I don’t know — and I’m afraid to judge, another’s soul is a dark place.”

At 36, Goncharov released the chapter “Oblomov’s Dream” – an “overture from an unfinished novel” – in a literary almanac alongside the journal Sovremennik. By this point, he had already completed the first part of the novel and was ready to begin the second. However, the writer suddenly embarked on a round-the-world journey. This decision was made in an instant when Goncharov’s former student, Apollon Maykov, declined to become secretary to Admiral Putyatin and join him on a grand expedition to conclude a trade treaty with Japan.

This was the same sudden impulse that would later seize Ilya Ilyich Oblomov, who would suddenly spring to life under the influence of Stolz and decide to propose to his beloved.

Goncharov spent day and night rushing around the city like a squirrel in a wheel to obtain recommendations, meet the admiral, and secure permission for a service transfer and foreign assignment. After all, only 40 days remained until the expedition. Everything worked out, and after that, he was in no hurry for a long time: the sailing journey lasted two years, and Goncharov published his impressions of it in the travelogue “The Frigate ‘Pallada’,” which was serialized in magazines over three years – longer than he spent at sea!

Goncharov returned to “Oblomov” only five years after the publication of “Oblomov’s Dream.” This time, however, things progressed more quickly. During a seven-week vacation “at the waters” in Marienbad, the author finished the second and third parts of the novel and sent it to print. He himself greatly enjoyed the newly written text – when he sent it to Tolstoy, he asked him to start reading directly from the second part, considering the first less successful.

Goncharov first conceived the novel “Oblomov” in 1847. At that time, he was 35 years old, almost the same age as his protagonist. Here’s how he describes Ilya Ilyich’s appearance: “He was a man of thirty-two or three, of medium height, pleasant appearance, with dark grey eyes.” He then mentions Oblomov’s rounded waist, thinning hair, and uncharacteristically soft, full hands that had never known hard labor.

If we turn to the recollections of his contemporaries, we find similar descriptions of Ivan Alexandrovich himself. For instance, P.M. Kovalevsky remembers Goncharov as “roundish, plump, with a sleepy-calm gaze from light eyes.” Meanwhile, S.F. Librovich (who used the pseudonym V. Rusakov) wrote that Goncharov was “…below medium height… short… an old man, with carelessly combed small grey sideburns, his head bowed, hands clasped behind his back, in an unbuttoned old, worn grey coat, rather resembling some minor official.”

The writer and journalist I.I. Yasinsky, after meeting Goncharov in 1882, recounted that even the writer’s study had “much that was undoubtedly Oblomovian: the same sofa stood against the wall, already considerably worn down from sitting, a picture hung askew above it. Positively the same slippers peeked out from under the sofa.”

As if mirroring the fate of his own character, Goncharov spent his final years living with a commoner—his late servant’s widow. Additionally, he took on the responsibility of caring for her children: two girls aged three and seven, and a five-year-old boy. For the eldest, he even sold the publication rights to “The Frigate ‘Pallada'” to enroll her in a gymnasium and later a women’s college. Goncharov helped her with lessons on Sundays and affectionately called her his “Cendrillon”—the French name for Cinderella, which echoed the girl’s name, Sania (Sasha).

For nine years, every summer, he took his dependent family on vacation to Jūrmala, where he celebrated his birthday within a modest family circle, complete with a special pie made just for him. In his old age, Goncharov seemed to return to his own childhood, enjoying the slow pace of an idle, aristocratic life. Yet, he never forgot to teach the children languages after breakfast.

Goncharov began to refer to his ground-floor apartment on Mokhovaya Street in Moscow as “Petersburg Oblomovka,” a crypt, or a small cave. He described himself as sitting at home like an old capercaillie. Having survived two strokes, he confessed that it was the children who kept him alive: they spent a lot of time with him, listened to his stories, and walked arm-in-arm with him in the evenings at dusk when his eyesight was poor. Goncharov signed his notes and letters to the children as “Old Man” and ultimately bequeathed his entire fortune of 40,000 rubles to them.

Yulia Basharova,

2025, Ireland

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Oblomov by Ivan Goncharov

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