The Queen Of Spades

“And he revealed to her a secret for which any of us would be willing to pay a high price….”

The story about the countess’s trick is filled with ambiguity. The nature of the trick is never described, only the success and wealth that it provides. These empty spaces allow Hermann’s mind to fill in the details. The ellipsis at the end of the quote represents the space that Hermann can fill: the story of the countess’s trick is so vague that it can mean anything he wants it to mean, making it even more tempting.

“The Countess did not have the slightest pretensions to beauty, which had long since faded from her face, but she adhered to all the habits of her youth, strictly following the fashions of the 1770s, spending just as much time and trouble on her toilette as she had sixty years before.”

Since winning her game of cards, the countess has become caught in a cycle of wealth and luxury from which she cannot escape. She finds no real pleasure in life, as she is ignored at balls and barely knows which of her friends are still alive. She still spends as much time on her appearance but to diminishing ends. She has nothing else to achieve. She lives by the rules of her card trick, forbidden from repeating her greatest success. Her social group, her fashion, and her memories are not as satisfying or as pleasurable as they once were. 

“‘This is my life’, thought Lizaveta Ivanovna.”

Lizaveta’s rank in society is the source of her sudden willful behavior. The more the countess sinks into the haze of old age, the more she entertains herself by hassling Lizaveta. Because Lizaveta lacks resources of her own, her only hope is that a young man takes interest in her. She is the plaything of an elderly aristocrat who does not respect her, justifying her desperate decision to invite Hermann into the house in the hope that he might marry her and help her escape.

“He was, for example, a gambler at heart but never touched a card, reckoning that his circumstances did not allow him (as he was fond of saying) to sacrifice the necessary in the hope of gaining the superfluous.”

Hermann expands on the mantra that he espoused in the opening chapter. He considers himself to be a “gambler at heart,” meaning that his refusal to play cards is an act of denial. He denies himself the opportunity to act on his true nature, showing restraint each time he refuses to gamble. This insight into Hermann’s character shows why the countess’s trick becomes such an obsession: she possesses a way to overcome his fear of his own nature, allowing him to gamble without the risk of losing everything he has assembled so carefully. By teaching him the trick, the countess will allow Hermann to unleash a part of himself that he has repressed for a long time.

“It contained a confession of love: it was tender, respectful–and translated word for word from a German novel.”

Hermann sends a love letter to Lizaveta, but the letter is not all it appears to be. Rather than a sincere declaration of love or affection, Hermann has plagiarized a novel. His gesture is hollow, like his affection for Lizaveta, but it also demonstrates his gambler’s instincts. He gambles on Lizaveta never having read the novel, even though he has never met her. Hermann is beginning to gamble more frequently, breaking his self-imposed restriction as he becomes more obsessed with the countess’s trick. 

“He was calm: his heart beat evenly, like that of a man embarked on a dangerous but unavoidable mission.”

Hermann wants to assure himself that his mission is “unavoidable” as doing so absolves him of responsibility. The desire to gamble that he has rigorously denied himself throughout his life has taken over. Rather than admit that he is giving in to temptation, Hermann keeps calm and assures himself that he has no other choice, as he is simply acting in accordance with fate. Hermann does not blame himself. Instead, he frames himself as the victim of a destiny beyond his control.

“Stop this childish game.”

Hermann’s tone becomes more aggressive as the countess refuses to tell him the trick. Hermann’s life has become a gamble; the interrogation of the countess is his latest risk, which has a potentially huge reward and–as he will soon discover–equal risk. Hermann may dismiss the countess’s behavior as a “childish game,” but it is a game that he desperately wants to win. 

“He has the profile of Napoleon and the soul of Mephistopheles. I think he has at least three crimes on his conscience.”

Tomsky’s comments about Hermann are laden with dramatic irony. While the audience knows that Hermann is becoming increasingly obsessed with the countess’s trick, Tomsky views him as a harmless young man. He jokes that Hermann is as important as Napoleon and as evil and cunning as the demon Mephistopheles to amuse himself. Tomsky’s joke clashes with the audience’s awareness of Hermann’s increasingly Mephistophelian plan.

“Deficient in true faith, he was nevertheless subject to many superstitions.”

Hermann is such a natural gambler that even his faith has an element of risk. He does not have the “true faith” in the Christian God that the other characters (and, seemingly, the whole society) have. Instead, he has a number of discrete “superstitions.” His is not a real faith but is rather small wagers on minor beliefs. Hermann has the soul of a gambler, wagering his immortal soul in a high-risk, high-reward manner. He bets on the absence of a real god but hedges his bets by believing minor superstitions at the same time.

“I have been ordered to grant your request.”

When the countess returns to Hermann in the night, his wager on faith is shown to be hollow. Her return as a ghost may justify his minor superstitions, but the countess herself seems subject to the whims of a higher power. She does not return of her own free will. Rather, she is “ordered” to return to him, implying the existence of a higher order beyond mortal life. Even a dead woman is not allowed to rest in peace and must obey the whims and wishes of a higher power.

“Two fixed ideas can no more coexist in the moral sphere than can two bodies occupy the same space in the physical world.”

Hermann’s obsession takes on a moral dimension. He feels nagging, unspoken guilt for the death of the countess, but he buries it deep inside him. He cannot maintain his idea of himself as a moral being while at the same time admitting responsibility for her death. In the same way, he knows that he should not use her trick more than once, but he also knows that he will be unable to stop himself. Hermann exists in denial of the facts of life, refusing to allow these fixed ideas to exist at the same time within him.

“The following evening Hermann once more presented himself at the table.”

Hermann has the opportunity to win everything he has ever wanted. All that is required of him is that he should use the countess’s trick only once. However, he cannot overcome his nature. He is a natural gambler who believes that he has found a way to overcome the natural laws of the game by using a special trick. Hermann brings about his downfall by flouting the rules that were given to him by a supernatural force. He does not respect the rules and allows himself to be overcome by his failings.

“Your lady has been murdered.”

When Chekalinsky turns over the final card, he makes a passing joke about Hermann’s Queen being “murdered.” The joke has loftier implications for the audience: “your lady” can be taken to refer to the countess, as she is Hermann’s benefactor and the one who taught him the trick for winning at cards. Just as Hermann is responsible for the countess’s death, he is responsible for his failure at the card table by overusing the trick. Hermann murders the countess, and he murders his chance at success. Chekalinsky’s comment places the blame for Hermann’s downfall squarely with Hermann