The Postmaster

By Alexander Pushkin

Staying with the Father by Matthew Baugher

In 1831, a famous Russian author by the name of Alexander Pushkin wrote a short story called “The Postmaster.” In this beautiful yet heart-breaking tale, Pushkin writes about his encounter with a postmaster and his beautiful daughter, Dunya. The postmaster dearly cherished his daughter, especially much considering the mother had died. Pushkin first met the postmaster and his daughter in May of 1816 at their quiet country post-station. After a few years passed, Pushkin came back to the station when he learned about the unfortunate fate of the postmaster’s daughter. Dunya had moved into St. Petersburg with a German Hussar, adopting its “corrupt” city culture. Throughout the story, Pushkin’s depiction of Dunya is one analogous to Jesus’s parable of the prodigal son—leaving the presence of her beloved father, going into the world, and becoming corrupted by the worldly culture of wealth and prosperity. With this story, I will make applications for Christian youth today. When young people resist the sinful draw of the world and pursue Christ, it pleases our Father in Heaven and leads to a more fulfilling life—both here and in the future.

On Pushkin’s second visit to the post station, he wonders where the postmaster’s daughter, Dunya, is. The postmaster then tells Pushkin about the sad fate of his daughter. One time a very angry German Hussar traveler came to the station but, upon seeing Dunya, was immediately calmed. The Hussar stayed with the postmaster and his daughter for a few days, earning their admiration. At the end of his stay, the Hussar decided to head back to St. Petersburg, and he wondered if he could take Dunya to church on his way out. In a fateful decision, Dunya, with the encouragement of her dad, complied to do so. Unexpectedly, she never returned to her father. The postmaster, in desperation, seeks her out in the city. Remarkably he finds her but is saddened to see that she is comfortable with her new city life. Dunya’s husband even says that “She loves me; she has grown accustomed to a new way of life.” Deeply saddened, the postmaster returns to his station. Feeling lonely and forsaken, the postmaster ends up drinking himself to death. In a somewhat confusing end to the story, Dunya comes back to her former home and visits her father’s grave, possibly somewhat regretful of her choice to live in the city.

Even with the confusing ending, it appears that Pushkin sees the result of Dunya moving with the Hussar into St. Petersburg as corrupting her in some sense. She forsook her intimate and cherished relationship with her father, never coming back to visit him before his death.[1] Pushkin’s description of the pictures on the wall of the postmaster’s tidy dwelling reinforces the idea that Dunya moving to St. Petersburg was in some way a rejection of what was good. The drawings depict the story of the Prodigal Son; from receiving the blessing with a bag of money, to hanging out with “false friends and shameless women,” to tending the pigs and sharing their food, to the son returning to the open arms of his father. Since this description is laid out at the beginning of the story, Pushkin clearly wants us to keep that in mind while interpreting the rest of the work. In fact, after Dunya is residing in the city, the postmaster is described as wanting to “bring my strayed lamb home.” Later reflecting on his daughter’s life in St. Petersburg, the postmaster said that “She is not the first, nor will she be the last, to be seduced by some passing rake, kept for a while, and then discarded. There are many young fools like her in Petersburg—today attired in satin and velvet, tomorrow sweeping the streets with the riff-raff of the town.” Pushkin is clearly making the point that, by going from living with her father to life in the uppity city, Dunya was corrupted in some way, She is no longer the innocent girl that she used to be.

I often observe similar tales in the lives of young Christians today. I notice how young people desire to experience the pleasures the world has to offer without knowing exactly where they will lead to, just like Dunya. Although an unwarranted representation of the Hussar, he embodies the deceptive evil forces which draw us away from God. Pushkin describes the Hussar offering to drive Dunya only as far as to the church. But, as the story goes, Dunya never came back. Accepting the Hussar’s ride, she was inadvertently choosing to go with him further. Is this how worldly temptation works today? We can easily be drawn away from the safety and goodness of our Father by pursuing what is good in this life. Worldly success, material benefit and lustful desires are an easy trap to fall into. Instead of following after those things, let us stay with our Father, the one who cherishes us and cares for us more than any other.

The Prodigal Daughter by Bryant Miller

A father weeps for his daughter. He runs to meet her, only to be pushed away. He aches to forgive, but she does not return. Alexander Pushkin’s “The Postmaster” is a reflection on the story of the prodigal son, one of Jesus’ most well-known parables. But far from a simple “Russianization” of the story, Pushkin plays with an alternate progression of events, seemingly inverting it. In the place of a son, he substitutes a daughter. The daughter leaves behind a life of poverty to live a life of luxury. But despite these changes and an alternate ending, Pushkin does not change the core message of the prodigal son. Despite, or perhaps because of her wealth, the prodigal daughter lives among proverbial pigs, allowing Pushkin to explore what happens when a prodigal doesn’t wish to return home.

Pushkin prefaces his tale with an appeal for the reader to empathize with all postmasters. Postmasters were men responsible for providing fresh horses to travelers on long-distance journeys. They had a reputation for being obstinate, but Pushkin emphasizes the difficulty of their job and urges the reader to listen to their stories, which he claims are far more interesting than his conversations with most “important” government men. This important introduction situates the social outcast as the central and important figure in the story.

With this introduction complete, Pushkin introduces us to a postmaster, Samson Virin by name, whom he met on one of his many journeys. On entering his station, Pushkin was immediately struck by the grace and beauty of the postmaster’s young daughter Dunya. While Dunya prepared his meal, Pushkin admired a series of paintings on the wall depicting the parable of the prodigal son: his departure and return, the forgiveness of the father, and the ensuing celebration. When Dunya returned with his Samovar, narrator Puskin was delighted to find them natural conversationalists and they chatted “like three old friends.” (108) When Pushkin returns to the same station several years later, he eagerly anticipates meeting the postmaster and his charming daughter. But to his dismay, Dunya is nowhere to be found and Samson has become a decrepit old man.

At first reticent, the postmaster’s tongue loosens over a bottle of rum, and he reveals his tale of woe. Dunya was his sole joy. She placated angry officials with her conversation when no horses were available and helped keep the station running.

One rakish, young Hussar from Petersburg was especially charmed, and when he left, he offered her a ride to church, which was on his way. She hesitated, apparently knowing his plans[H1] , but, ironically, her father urged her to go. “His honor is not a wolf; he won’t eat you.” (111-112) But Dunya did not return, and her father grew increasingly anxious. After learning that she had gone on with Captain Minsky, he quit his post and went in search of her on foot, thinking, “Perhaps I shall be able to bring my strayed lamb home.”

The poor postmaster finally tracked down Captain Minsky in a Petersburg hotel. But the captain turned him out with these words: “What’s done cannot be undone… neither of you would be able to forget what has happened.” (114) But the poor father did not give up. He followed Minsky to Dunya’s residence and barged into her room. She nearly fainted when she saw him, and the Captain roughly removed him. The postmaster gave up and returned to his station in despair.

Pushkin returns to the station a final time to find the postmaster dead. A one-eyed young boy takes him to see the grave. On the way, the boy explains that a beautiful, rich woman with several children also made the trek to the old postmaster’s grave. Pushkin listens with interest as the boy describes the woman weeping upon learning of the postmaster’s death and prostrating herself at the grave. He concludes by mentioning that he did not regret his journey to check on the old postmaster one last time.

While the superficial parallel to the prodigal son is obvious, Pushkin changes a number of key aspects to the story. Is this an inversion of the parable? Dunya runs away, not to squalor, but to the height of Petersburg fashion (115) and obvious wealth. (118) The postmaster, far from waiting for his daughter’s return, searches far and wide for her. When they do briefly reunite, it is anything but joyous and redemptive. It is the father, not the daughter, whose life slowly unravels. One might argue that Dunya could not rightly be said to be prodigal. It was the doting father who died in squalor.

But while a case for a complete inversion can be made, I propose that Dunya was indeed a prodigal. Pushkin, like many writers of his time, had a romantic vision of rural Russian life. He represented the provincial Russian as truly Russian, and the postmaster was no different. In contrast to the gaudy pomp of Petersburg, the postmaster found joy in the simple life of loving his daughter. Dunya forsook this authentic love for the flattering fancy of a Hussar. She betrayed her simple life to wallow in the artificiality of high society. She heeded the words of her seducer, who believed that reconciliation was impossible. “Neither of you would be able to forget what has happened.” Although the story doesn’t end with her discarded in a gutter as her father feared (116), Pushkin seems to convey that she denied what was best for her by moving to the city and leaving her father behind.

Despite the unraveling of the postmaster’s life, his story parallels that of the loving father in the parable. Pushkin’s introduction validates the postmaster’s lifestyle and perspective, setting him up as a suitable protagonist. Pushkin seems to weave in themes from the parable of the lost sheep as well, sending the postmaster on a quest to “bring [his] strayed lamb home.” His heart ached with the desire to forgive, and he refused to accept Captain Minsky’s claim that redemption was impossible. He ran to meet his beloved daughter, but she turned him away. (116) His desperate love for her eventually brings him to the grave in grief. Although the father in the parable of the prodigal son does not die, we know that God’s love for his prodigal sons did cause Him to lose His life. While Pushkin probably did not intend this connection, it is a striking parallel to a loving father who is willing to sacrifice everything for his child.

Dunya eventually returns, but it is too late. Her tears and time at the graveside seem to indicate a certain level of repentance. But is she really sorry? Returning with six horses and a pug-dog (118) is nearly the opposite of the prodigal son, who returned desiring only to be a servant. Pushkin hints at some resolution, but the ending is far from satisfying.

This unsatisfying ending drives home Pushkin’s message: like Dunya, some prodigals don’t want to return home. Pushkin likely intended a broader societal critique that is still valid today. Many Russians would not have recognized Dunya as a prodigal daughter. Society paid her handsomely for her soul, but that didn’t make her decision or society’s value system good. In a similar vein, American prodigal sons and daughters are often richly rewarded by their seducers: wealth, fame, self-expression. Pushkin warns us to beware the seducers that tempt us away from our loving Fathers, both earthly and heavenly. How often have we forsaken the One who loves us most and convinced ourselves that we were making the right choice? As Pushkin would have us remember, gaudy pigs and gold-plated slop are still pigs and slop.