Recently I learned that Pechorin had died while returning from Persia. This news pleased me very much, for it gave me the right to publish these notes…
Reading over these notes, I became convinced that the man must’ve been sincere in so mercilessly laying bare his own weaknesses and vices. The story of a human soul, even the pettiest of souls, can hardly be less interesting and instructive than the story of a nation, especially if it is the result of the observation of a mature mind and written without the vain desire to evoke compassion or to amaze… Thus it was purely the desire to do some good that impelled me to publish excerpts from a journal which I just happened to acquire. Though I’ve changed all proper names, those mentioned in it will no doubt recognize themselves and perhaps find justification for deeds they have held against a man who is no longer of this world. For we nearly always forgive that which we understand…
Some readers will probably want to know what I think of Pechorin’s character. My reply may be found in the title of this book. “But that is wicked irony!” they’ll say.
I don’t know about that.
Pechorin 
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