In the Russian novel A Hero of Our Time, translated by Vladimir and Dmitri Nabokov, the author Mikhail Lermontov recounts the travels of the alienated and manipulative Pechorin, an officer upper class military man. struggling with fate in his attempts to interact with women. In the short story "Princess Mary" Pechorin writes that he considers his fate, predicted by an old woman as "the death of an evil wife", as an "ineffable presentiment"; he is convinced that this will come true and, as such, he carries in his soul an “insurmountable aversion” to marriage (Lermontov 137). As such, Pechorin's relationships with women are marked by his ever-present awareness of his supposed fate, and it is this fear that motivates the way he treats them. His treatment of women can be interpreted as heroic, due to his respect for them, particularly in relation to his peers, but also as indicative of an anti-hero, for his manipulation of them. By describing Pechorin's relationship with women as an expression of his fear of fate, Lermontov suggests that the hero does not exist: the complexity of human nature prevents an assessment as such. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get the original essay Lermontov's depiction of Bela as exotic and foreign portrays Pechorin as neither heroic nor unheroic, but also distinctly human in his despair over his fate, suggesting that such a delineation is absurd. From the beginning, Bela is exotified: Lermontov introduces her into a quasi-ethnic “Asian” marriage, where she is repeatedly described as a “gazelle” (Lermontov 25). This objectification presents Pechorin's desire for her as a strange and alien beauty, which nevertheless appears crude and superficial. Lermontov reinforces this impression when Pechorin calls Kazbich a “bandit” even though he himself is a “husband” (Lermontov 31). This characteristic arrogance seems unfounded, especially since Pechorin himself was the one who orchestrated the deal to steal Bela in the first place. Needless to say, Lermontov's first presentations of Pechorin are those of ignobleness, of superficiality – not of heroism. Later, however, he gifts her with Persian fabrics, an act that seems rather unheroic in his attempt to "buy" her love - but Maksim Maksimych is right that "it's not the same thing at all" than doing it with a Persian fabric. Russian girl (Lermontov 36 years old). Maksim's aside about Bela, calling him strange and exotic, is indicative of something else: culturally, a tissue donation is a symbol of intention, of marriage. For the first time, Lermontov characterizes their relationship as more than just exotic sex appeal; rather than keeping her as a concubine, as the preceding pages suggest, Pechorin respects her enough to consider her his wife – laudable, perhaps even heroic, in itself, but especially given what recent events would have been . Chronologically, "The Fatalist" would have occurred just before "Bela", and at the end of this story, although he is convinced of predestination, Pechorin never "rejects anything decisively, nor trusts blindly" ( Lermontov 169). . As such, the gift is an act of desperation – neither heroic nor not, but simply human – of trying to "test fate" as he did in "The Fatalist" with the Cossack, and of wanting that the prophecy is refuted. The image that Lermontov represents of a laughing Pechorin after the death of Bela therefore does not represent a man insensitive to the death of his lover, but a man broken by theconfirmation of his fate. Pechorin's laughter is not representative of a moving hero or non-heroic indifference, but of a complex human being. Likewise, Lermontov's depiction of Pechorin's relationship with Princess Mary as an expression of his need to maintain control contextualizes fate as a continuous specter haunting their affairs, suggesting that a "hero" cannot exist. Even before Pechorin and Mary establish contact, Lermontov sees jealousy as a motivating factor for his interactions with her. Pechorin writes that Grushnitsky's seriousness “envelops him with the frost of winter” (Lermontov 89). The ice of Pechorin's jealousy parallels the apparent coldness with which Pechorin subsequently manipulates Mary, and momentarily, Lermontov projects him as the furthest possible thing from a hero. Thus, their first interactions are characterized by manipulation; Pechorin happily writes that Mary hates him, noting with a sort of vindictive pride that he is the subject of “caustic, but…flattering” epigrams (96). Lermontov's juxtaposition of two strongly connotative words underlines that what Pechorin finds flattering in these epigrams is precisely their causticity; he relishes the fact that he has power over Marie, that he is the object of her anxieties and her attention. When Pechorin reflects on why he plays so intensely with Mary, Pechorin writes that his main pleasure is "submitting to [his] will everything around him" (Lermontov, 116). Lermontov develops a seemingly despicable and unheroic character, both thoughtful and proud of his own actions, through Pechorin's grandiose and arrogant tone as he writes these lines. But this maniacal desire to control everything around him reflects his desire to control his destiny. So, when Pechorin cannot see Mary when she is ill, he writes in disbelief: “Could it be that I really fell in love? …What nonsense! (Lermontov 127). In his use of ellipses, Lermontov creates a natural pause in the flow of the text, emphasizing that the reason Pechorin is so opposed to the suggestion that he is in love is because he has lost control; he fell in love not through his own will and manipulation, but because it simply happened – not to mention that Pechorin is undoubtedly aware of his supposed destiny. When it becomes clear that he is meant to marry Mary, he finally introduces this prophecy and how it has weighed on him his entire life – he states that he will not “sell [his] freedom” (Lermontov 137). Lermontov's construction comparing marriage to the sale of freedom – to slavery – speaks to Pechorin's need to maintain control. Additionally, this fits with his fear of fate, which stems from his fear of not being able to control his destiny. What is interesting here is that if fate actually existed, as Pechorin believes, it would have no freedom to sell in the first place. Ultimately, however, Lermontov's illustration of the relationship between Pechorin and Vera reveals Pechorin's capacity for – and, indeed, need for – true love despite his supposed fate; whether or not he is a hero no longer matters. Pechorin himself admits that Vera is the only one who completely understood him and his “petty weaknesses and evil passions” (Lermontov 141). Lermontov's alliteration of words with strong negative connotations suggests that Pechorin understands why he may be despised, but also emphasizes his appreciation for Vera's unconditional love. His casual estrangement from Vera could be heroic – because he respects her husband – or unheroic – because he disregards her love – but the question of heroism is extraneous here;.