Fanarin

Fanarin is the celebrated Moscow advocate whom Nekhludoff engages to handle Maslova's appeal to the Senate and later to manage the Menshoffs' case. A shrewd, cynical, and highly successful lawyer, he embodies the professional amorality of the legal world that Nekhludoff comes to despise, yet his technical skill and insider knowledge make him an indispensable instrument in Nekhludoff's efforts to undo the injustice of Maslova's conviction.

Identity and Professional Standing

Fanarin is a middle-aged man of medium height, with a worn look on his face, who operates from a splendid house decorated with huge palms and wonderful curtains—the visible luxury of money acquired without labour. His waiting-room, like a doctor's, is filled with dejected clients, and his assistant sits at a high desk. Fanarin is known to Nekhludoff by sight and name, and when Nekhludoff approaches him in the Law Courts corridor, Fanarin says he will be very glad to be of service. He is one of two well-known advocates Nekhludoff thinks of—the other being Mikishin. Maslennikoff, the vice-governor, calls Fanarin "un homme tare" and warns Nekhludoff against him, recalling how Fanarin had examined him as a witness the year before and held him up to ridicule for half an hour in the politest manner. Maslennikoff also says he does not know Fanarin personally because their social positions keep their ways apart, but considers him a positively bad man who takes the liberty of saying such things in court.

Role in Maslova's Appeal

When Nekhludoff first consults him, Fanarin agrees to take the case and tells Nekhludoff to come on Thursday at six o'clock for an answer. Nekhludoff states that he will take all costs on himself, whatever they may be, and Fanarin smiles with condescension at Nekhludoff's inexperience in these matters. Later, Fanarin reads the case attentively and tells Nekhludoff that the greenhorn of an advocate who handled the original trial has left no valid reason for an appeal. Nevertheless, he drafts a petition to the Senate, reading it aloud rapidly, slurring over uninteresting legal terms and laying particular stress on certain sentences. He points out four grounds for appeal: first, that the reading of the medical report was interrupted by the president at the very beginning; second, that Maslova's advocate was interrupted when trying to characterise her personality; third, that the president omitted to inform the jury that they had a right not to impute the guilt of murder if they admitted she gave the poison but without intent to kill; and fourth, that the jury's answer contained an evident contradiction. When Nekhludoff asks why the president did not correct the mistake, Fanarin replies, "I, too, should like to know why," and laughs. He is frank about the slim chances of success, saying it all depends on what members will be present at the Senate, and advises Nekhludoff to use any influence he has there quickly, before the senators go off for a change of air. The fees, including the business with the Senate and the commission, come to 1,000 roubles, and Fanarin's assistant explains that Fanarin does not usually undertake this kind of business but does it only to oblige Nekhludoff.

The Senate Hearing

When the case is heard in Petersburg, Fanarin arrives in his swallow-tail coat, white tie, and self-confident smile. He knows all the ins and outs of the building and enters through a door with the date of the introduction of the Code of Laws above it. In the Senate Chamber, he rises and proves point by point with wonderful exactness and persuasiveness how the Court had in six points strayed from the exact meaning of the law, and also touches briefly on the merits of the case and the crying injustice of the sentence. His tone is one of apology to the Senators, who, with their penetration and judicial wisdom, cannot help seeing and understanding it all better than he can. After his speech, Fanarin looks round with a smile of triumph, but Nekhludoff sees that the Senators and the Public Prosecutor do not smile or triumph—they look like people wearied, thinking "We have often heard the like of you; it is all in vain." When the Senate rejects the appeal, Fanarin tells Nekhludoff that the case was spoiled in the Criminal Court and advises appealing to His Majesty, offering to write the petition.

The Menshoff Case and Other Matters

Fanarin also takes up the case of the Menshoffs, a mother and son accused of incendiarism. He reads the case with indignation at the inconsistency of the accusation, calling it perfectly revolting, and says it is very likely that the owner himself set fire to the building to get the insurance money. He guarantees that if they are tried in the city rather than in a provincial court, he will get them acquitted and will charge nothing. When Nekhludoff later tells him about a peasant who began reading the Gospels to the villagers and was committed for trial, Fanarin confirms that such a man could be exiled to the mines for blaming the Greek orthodox religion in the presence of the common people, and adds, "I always tell these gentlemen, the judges, that I cannot look at them without gratitude, because if I am not in prison, and you, and all of us, it is only owing to their kindness." He laughs merrily at Nekhludoff's question about what trials are for if everything depends on the whim of prosecutors, calling it philosophy and inviting Nekhludoff to a literary evening at his house where men of science, literary men, and artists will gather to discuss general questions.

Character and Significance

Fanarin is a man who takes evident pleasure in his own eloquence and in the success of his profitable transactions. After concluding a deal with a merchant worth twelve million roubles, he cannot conceal his excitement and vents his feelings by calling the merchant a fearful scoundrel. He is also a family man whose horribly ugly, snub-nosed wife flies into his cabinet to drag him to a literary matinee where an author will read poems. Nekhludoff feels an insurmountable aversion to Fanarin's free-and-easy manner, which assumes that he and Nekhludoff belong to one camp while other clients belong to another. The advocate's laugh with which he meets Nekhludoff's remark that trials can have no meaning if judges may enforce laws according to their notion, and the tone with which he pronounces the words "philosophy" and "general questions," prove to Nekhludoff how very differently he and the advocate look at things. Fanarin represents the legal profession's comfortable accommodation with a system that Nekhludoff has come to see as fundamentally unjust, and his technical brilliance only underscores the moral emptiness at the heart of that system.