This one transported me back the old Russia of 1850s, Russia of my childhood. Turgenev is different from both Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky, yet their equal in stature, a true master of prose. Sketches depict life of peasants and landlords in pre-1850(before serfdom was abolished)Russia, from the eyes of a nobleman hunter, always on the move, as he passes through all forms of life, observing with equanimity and keenness, all sorts of cruelty, wretchedness, and quirks and foibles of people around him.
His love of nature is equally obvious and as beautifully shown here as his trenchant observation (and occasional commentary) of the life of his times. Which also means the book might not be an easy read if you are not a nature-lover, as these are sketches, not a centralized story.
Written in a poetic, unhurried and beautiful style. There are no all-encompassing moral/geographical canvases of Tolstoy, or violent psychological inquests of Dostoyevsky, only the hunter's eyes, his gun and his dog, the people he meet, the lives he encounters, and nature.