Divine Likeness: Imitating Icons in Nikolai Gogol’s The Portrait 

In his 1835 work The Portrait, Nikolai Gogol draws upon the iconographic tradition of the Orthodox Church to develop complex themes surrounding conscience, greed, and the weight of talent. The artist’s duty to his craft is a key theme that appears throughout The Portrait, and the calling of art is shown to be similar to the calling of asceticism and the monastic life. Comparisons abound between the brotherhood of artists and the brotherhood of monks, and this seemingly unlikely connection is managed by the iconographers, whose artistic talent is not wasted in the world but devoted to a higher calling.

The story begins when the penniless young artist Chartkov is saddled with the moneylender’s unnervingly lifelike portrait. Utterly exhausted in his poor, dark home, Chartkov is shown to have a weakness for the finer things in life and bitterly laments that his talent has not brought him material success, seemingly asking the portrait, “Why do I suffer and toil over the ABCs like a student, when I could shine no worse than the others and have money as they do?” (347). Immediately after Chartkov thinks the unholy thought, there is the face of the devil waiting to spring: “Two terrible eyes were fixed directly on him, as if preparing to devour him” (347). That night, what he most desires comes to pass, and he becomes rich through supernatural and inexplicable means. Finally secure, Chartkov has a choice. He now has the means to retreat from the world and devote himself to his craft, remembering the former art teacher who addressed Chartkov as “brother” and warned him: “You have talent; it would be a sin to ruin it” (345). Instead, his desire for fame and riches overpowers his desire to become a true artist, and it becomes obvious that the devil’s gift of a thousand rubles comes stained with blood.

A strong sense of contrast between the holy and the unholy pervades The Portrait. The eponymous piece can be seen as a kind of unholy icon: we know from the story of its creation that the subject was a man whose every step brought death and destruction, and the artist’s attention and focus was to bring humiliation to another person and fame to himself. The artist’s intention was absolutely opposed to that of the iconographer. But how could the portrait then be an icon? What differentiates icon painting from other forms of painting, more than just the subjects portrayed, is exactly the artist’s mindset and intention. A holy preparation undertaken with holy intention—prayer, fasting, erasure of the self and selfishness—yields a holy icon. It seems also that an unholy mindset and evil motivations yields an unholy icon, a portrait of evil. This is how the portrait becomes an icon and not merely a painting: the artist actually channels the supernatural presence of its subject, calling upon that presence and allowing it to guide his hand while creating it. But rather than channeling divine presence, the portrait channels demonic presence. The portrait was created to bring ruin, and bring ruin it did, corrupting a selfless tradition and turning it into one that is self-serving.

If the portrait is a profane icon, every association with iconography is flipped on its head. Where icons are treated with care and respect and handed from generation to generation, the portrait is sold cheaply in a shop, dirty, disrespected, and shoved from one person to another. Rather than bringing peace as a window to the spiritual world, it inspires fear and drives men to their destruction, bringing out the worst in humanity. There is no holy beauty in it; viewers are repulsed and feel a strange unpleasantness within them. Even the manner of its commission is an opposite. Here a worldly subject asks, begs even, to be depicted, where holy figures never demand such attention. There is even a case to be made that the moneylender depicted is the representation (a “portrait” himself) of evil. The language used to describe him is of heat, fire, and burning; surrounded by death and decay, his gifts are not freely given but come at a great cost—those indebted to him pay with their very souls. Chartkov is just the latest of a long line of his victims. However, in a final case of opposites, the condition of the portrait’s artist is restored by repenting, returning to holiness, and pursuing a monastic life, and he is finally cured of evil’s influence by painting a holy icon in his monastery.

In this work and others, Gogol seems absolutely assured that the artist’s pursuit is a holy pursuit of finding and bringing to best light what is good in men. All people, he warns, but especially those with great talent (himself included), must beware of seeking their reward in this world. Evil presences lurk—especially in St. Petersburg—and at their urging, the artist will lunge headlong towards the destruction of his soul.