Fending off Demyan

Who among us has not had to fend off excessive hospitality – чрезмерное гостеприимство?

The fabulist Ivan Krylov poked fun at the archetypal Russian радушный хозяин (cordial host) in his famous creation, Демьянова уха:

“Соседушка, мой свет!
Пожалуйста, покушай”.
“Соседушка, я сыт по горло”. – “Нужды нет,
Ещё тарелочку; послушай:
Ушица, ей-же-ей, на славу сварена!”-
“Я три тарелки съел”. – “И, полно, что за счёты:
Лишь стало бы охоты,
А то во здравье: ешь до дна!”

“This soup, dear neighbor’s, made just right.
Will you not try a little more?”
“Dear host, I’m stuffed, not one more bite!”
“Just one small bowlful I implore—
I’m sure you haven’t had enough!”
“I’ve had three bowls – a good amount.”
“With soup so fine, who keeps a count?
Just drink it down, it’s healthy stuff.”

The title of Krylov’s fable has since become idiomatic. Демьянова уха now means чрезмерное угощение против воли гостя – literally “excessive feeding against a guest’s will.”

So how is one to parry the “attacks” of an over-hospitable Demyan? Well, begin by trying a simple cпасибо. Your host may reply, “спасибо, да” или “спасибо, нет”? Well, go for “спасибо, нет.”

“Спасибо, больше не хочется,” (“Thank you, I do not want any more.”) is another traditional and polite (yet weak) formula. It probably won’t deter the Demyans of this world.

There is an alternative from card games: “Я – пас.” (“I’ll pass.”) Or, “Я, пожалуй, пропущу,” (“Perhaps I’ll skip this round.”), a nice option, unless you are refusing to make a toast to your host’s health (bad idea).

But let’s stick to meals. You may also quote Krylov’s popular cliché, “Я сыт по горло”(literally, “I am full to the top of my throat.”). It comes across as mildly rude in Russian but is certainly resolute. And there is “кусок в горло не лезет” (“not one more morsel could get down my throat”).

Another good one is “Я сломался” (“I’ve broken down/collapsed”), which will do the trick, but is a little cowardly (if not true). The typical Demyan won’t buy it (you’re still talking, aren’t you?).

Personally, I favor humorous and clichéd ripostes. The trick is to make your Demyan crack a smile and take pity on you. Two examples: “Смерти моей хочешь?” (“You want me to die, or what”?); “Я сейчас лопну.” (“I am about to burst.”) The funniest I ever heard (and used) is: “Я сейчас лопну и всех обрызгаю.” (“I am about to burst and get it all over everyone.”)

Some guests try to meet their hosts halfway, giving in but requesting a smaller portion of, say, пирог c капустой (cabbage pie). Of course this comes with the danger that the succulent, home-made creation may force you to попросить добавки (ask for seconds). So you can try to appease your Demyan with a “Мне – половинку” (“Maybe just a half for me”), which the host may well take as license to toss a rather larger piece onto your plate. To which the only possible response (before you give in and start chewing) is “и это ты называешь ‘половинкой’?!” (“This is what you call ‘half’?!”)

I could go on, but хорошенького понемножку (enough is enough). We wouldn’t want this to turn into a linguistic Демьянова уха.

So, just one final option. What if you have exhausted all these linguistic tricks – and nothing worked? Well, you can do what Demyan’s neighbor Foka did:

Схватя в охапку,
Кушак и шапку*
Скорей без памяти домой

And snatching up his sash and hat.
He fled back home in nothing flat.
He’d liked the soup and loved his friend,
But never dined with him again.

* Kushak: ancient Russian waist girdle.
Shapka: a hat.

Poem translations by Lydia Razran Stone.