The Obscure Reading Group discussion

In his introduction to the Penguin edition of Home of the Gentry, Richard Freeborn writes that "the greatest of the nineteenth century Russian novelists wrote out of the profundities of a silent country. In a real and literal sense Dostoevsky wrote out of the nocturnal silence of St. Petersburg, Tolstoy from the rural silence of Yasnaya Pollyanna and Turgenev from the summer quiet of Spasskoye. Their novels have the special, spell-binding absorption of voices speaking out of a natural stillness. None of Turgenev's novels is more eloquent of such stillness than Home of the Gentry."

In addition to the stillness is the theme of fleeting happiness: "Turgenev tended to believe that man is never destined to experience happiness save as something ephemeral and inevitably foredoomed."

Turgenev's second novel, written in 1859, met critical praise when it came out and was particularly embraced in Victorian England for its "quiet, elegiac tone." Of course, one reader's quiet elegiac tone is another reader's quiet, elegiac humdrum. And though he was once considered the equal of Dostoevsky and Tolstoy, Turgenev's star has set considerably over time. Still, he remains a major player in Russia's Golden Age of Literature that gave us so many great novels.

With our June discussion, we pick up this work, which Freeborn calls the most "Turgenevan" of Ivan Turgenev's works. What does that eponymous adjective mean to you as a reader? What were some strengths and weaknesses of the plot, characterization, description, and writing style?

And finally, how important is the socio-political situation of 1840s Russia to understanding and appreciating this work? Turgenev, who studied in Berlin and had definite European (vs. Slavophile) sympathies, was in the thick of it with his works, after all, and, with Lavretsky, we get yet another version of "the superfluous man."

These and any other concerns and questions are fair game as we begin our June discussion of Lavretsky, Liza, and other gentlefolk / peasants in and around the Home of the Gentry. Mind your Marya's from your Marfa's and jump in when you're ready!

Well here goes. I found Liza tedious. Unreal and the supposedly perfect woman for the era. I preferred the spunk of the first wife. She wasn’t classy in the elegant sense. She was brash ,crass, and hedonistic in my opinion, but she kept it real. I hated when she came back to Lavrestsky and played the siren.
I wanted to read more about Liza’s sister. Most of the women to me were cardboard. As you can tell I wasn’t impressed , but maybe I missed something. I grew impatient with them all.
I did find the society interesting , but as you said boring. . That is all for now.

Varvara is not the first wife, as Lavretsky never gets as far as marrying Liza, so I guess she'll have to settle for being the only wife (and faithful customer at the teller's window of the Lavretsky National Bank).

I did not find Liza as cardboard as you did (more later), and maybe would say that Varvara is more the stereotype in the way a minx is. (Or vixen, maybe? Animal with an "x" required, maybe?)

Now Marfa is a character. Probably my favorite among the women, even though hers is (sadly) a supporting role. She is just as perceptive as Marya is clueless. OK, Marya isn't CLUELESS as she does pull that rotten "behind the arras" trick at the end. That. Is. Low.

Above all, the ending really surprised me. I was expecting it to be a fairly typical ending where one of them dies or they get married. Neither! For once! I loved Lavretsky, he reminded me of Tolstoy's Levin in my ways. I wonder if Turgenev has been partially forgotten because he only wrote relatively small books. Would he be remembered as Tolstoy if he wrote a 1000 page novel about a Russian family through the years or something of the like?

Another Lavretsky-Levin connection, though much muted in this book = plowing the land, and thus joining the peasants for a good sweat.

At first I thought Lavretsky was going to be more of a holy fool like The Idiot's Myshkin, but agree he developed more like Levin. I loved his character.

And I’m curious about your impression of Liza being perfect, Carol. I didn’t get that. She greatly disappointed her mother and frustrated her Aunt. Maybe because she took the religious road, versus the other female characters? We did have an assortment of women: Marya the social and not very motherly mother, Marfa the more independent but caring Aunt, Varvara the manipulator. But I saw Marfa as more of the ideal--the way she supported Lavretsky from the beginning and did what she wanted.

I really love Turgenev’s style, and will say more about why later, but first, I don’t quite understand that quote from your intro, Ken. What is meant my “natural stillness?”

Marfa was my favorite character too. Liza was tedious to me because everything was tied to religion and her idea of goodness, although she was a bit of a rebel in that she did defy her mother. I thought Varvara was a throwaway character til she came back from the dead and threw a wrench into Lavrestky's plans for his future happiness. At one point, Lavrestsky said he had "divorced" Varvara, so I was confused when she came back and he was still tied to her by marriage. The reappearance of Marya's son confused me too, as I didn't remember him at all, til I went back and reread the first part, in which he was mentioned in one sentence.
I wasn't a big fan of this one, but tried to read it as though I were of that time and place. I can see how their boring lives would have caused them to be fascinated by the soap opera melodrama of it all, especially the tragic ending.

Kathleen wrote: "At first I thought Lavretsky was going to be more of a holy fool like The Idiot's Myshkin, but agree he developed more like Levin. I loved his character.

And I’m curious about your im..."

I think that was what bothered me. Too much religiosity, pious to a fault. She did question life, but only through religion.

Carol wrote: "I think that was what bothered me. Too much religiosity, pious to a fault. She did question life, but only through religion."

Yeah Carol, I get that. And I thought it was tacky the way she tried to make Lavretsky feel guilty about everything. I don't think he was ever on board with her beliefs.

Kathleen -- Richard Freeborn came up with the "natural stillness" line, and though I don't quite get it through the lens of Dostoevsky (who is out of bustling St. Petersburg, for one, and who has a monkey mind for the ages, for two), I certainly understand for Tolstoy and Turgenev.

What attracts me to the two T's is the estates out in the country. In the summer scenes, I can almost hear the crickets and the birds and feel the heat. And lime trees. Always the lime trees throwing shade over a garden.

Oh. And people rich enough to do nothing. I always wanted to be a gentleman farmer myself because there's so little heavy lifting. I guess that's equivalent to 19th-century Russia's "superfluous man."

For all that, you need stillness, and T-Squared seem to serve it up in abundance. Plenty of quiet for the Lavretsky's and Levin's of the world to think (too much).

Either Turgenev was jealous or had a man crush on Tolstoy. Even his main character Lavretsky reminded everyone of Tolstoy’s Levin. The names are similar. The traits even though Levin was a far bigger than life character then Lavretsky were familiar.
Tolstoy was much better at developing his character’s and making you care about them. I know it isn’t fair to compare the two,


This book had your “foppish dude” , your vixen, your comedic character, ( the older man , I forget his name , he wrote the music and pined after Liza) ,the matriarch Aunt, and the villainous Aunt, it was a soap opera. I am not fond of soap opera’s. Turgenev was emulating his Idol with this book maybe, a weak attempt in my opinion.

Ah, I see. Thank you, Ken! It's the stillness of leisure, so elusive to us but fun to read (for me anyway). Would I notice the lime tree in real life as I whiz past at full speed with multiple distractions?

Please all, correct me here, but my uneducated impressions of the big three could be that they emphasize different things: Tolstoy the societal, Dostoyevsky the intellectual, and Turgenev the personal. A gross oversimplification, but it's what I love and find so much more accessible and relatable about Turgenev.

Oh, this is wonderful! Thinking about all these different characters and perspectives.
As a non-religious person myself, but who was raised in the Catholic Church (one of the closest things Americans have to the Russian Church), I come from a long line of Catholic nuns. Many generations of my aunts and cousins found the religious life of the convent their personal best-choice among those offered to women in their times. I see Liza's choice as a genuine one for a woman who is intelligent, educated, and strong, though not socially rebellious (as Varvara is). Prayer for her is an action, something she can do, and perhaps even feels she can do well. Striving for that life for a woman of her time I see as a parallel to intelligent and educated men striving to be gentlemen farmers. Two gendered options where the Russian gentry of the period might find "home."

Sara wrote: "Oh, this is wonderful! Thinking about all these different characters and perspectives.
As a non-religious person myself, but who was raised in the Catholic Church (one of the closest things America..."

That makes sense now.

I too really wished there were more about little sister Elena, though I suppose we can only expect just so much from a 19th-century adult male (Turgenev). That he might be able to get into (or even consider) the mind of a pre-adolescent girl-child is probably a bit of a stretch.

Kathleen wrote: "Ah, I see. Thank you, Ken! It's the stillness of leisure, so elusive to us but fun to read (for me anyway). Would I notice the lime tree in real life as I whiz past at full speed with multiple dist..."



Now that you mention it, that is not oversimplification for me. I am of the lesser educated too and need things in a simple form . I was not liking this book and classified it as boring. I am beginning to understand it on a personal level. It is a psychological study I suppose , and we could go deeper into Liza’s dependence on religion and Fedya’s abuse and neglect to make him choose wrong relationship. Would Liza and him be happy given their respective childhoods?

Sara wrote: "Oh, this is wonderful! Thinking about all these different characters and perspectives.
As a non-religious person myself, but who was raised in the Catholic Church (one of the closest things America..."

Sara, I agree with your assessment. Women had few choices if they did not want to marry. Had Lisa (how my Penguin version had her name spelled) not gone into the convent, Marya would have continued to pressure her to marry Panshin or some other eligible bachelor.

In addition, Fedor aka Fedya, would have kept pressuring her to make their relationship something more which meant his mistress. Lisa did not want him to succeed in breaking down her wall of chastity--to become a person she didn't want to become.

I also think it is questionable whether the two would have been happy together even if circumstances had prevailed in their favor. Unless happiness can be found in sadness.

Sara, I like your assessment of Lisa very much. I was also thinking that obviously religion was important to some in the household or there wouldn’t have been the home service for the “special purpose.” Also Lisa already went to mass regularly and we observed her to be a serious young woman. She may have already been contemplating the convent.
I’m just remembering that Marfa mentioned her “cell” - her bedroom- as if she had called it that same name in the past.
This seems a very Russian situation to me, especially for a 19th century story.

I enjoyed Turgenev’s snide side comments slipped into character descriptions and sections of activities. He knew his characters and added to our full understanding.
The characters, for me, seem to represent different aspects of Russian society of the time, including the various parents and servants who have lived in various places and levels of society.

Sue wrote: "I enjoyed Turgenev’s snide side comments slipped into character descriptions and sections of activities. He knew his characters..."

I'm interested in hearing more. I too enjoyed his sense of humor... What "snide comments" caught your attention? Any examples? I'd like to hear more about your (and everyone's) perspectives on the side characters.

I found this quote interesting in light of the fact that the issue never goes away. For instance, I heard that Tucker Carlson of the Fox-TASS News Agency actually ran a special about how to be a MAN recently because of what he considers the "feminization" of modern society.

But wait! In 19th century Russia, no less, Levretsky's dad, Ivan Petrovich, was up to the same shenanigans:


"'Above all I want to make a man of him, un homme,' he told Glafira Petrovna, 'and not only a man, but a Spartan.' Ivan Petrovich began putting his intention into effect by dressing his son in a Scottish outfit:the twelve-year-old lad began to go about with bare legs and a cock's feather in his bonnet; the Swedish lady was replaced by a young Swiss who had studied gymnastics to perfection; music, as an occupation unworthy of a man, was banished altogether; the natural sciences, international law, mathematics, carpentry, as Jean-Jacques Rousseau had advised, and heraldry for the cultivation of chivalrous feelings -- these were what the man-to-be had to concern himself with; he was woken at four o'clock in the morning, at once doused with cold water and made to run round a high pole on a string; he ate one meal a day consisting of one dish, rode on horseback, and shot from a cross-bow; at every suitable opportunity he would give himself lessons in strength of will, on the example of his parent, and each evening he would enter in a special book an account of the past day and his impressions; while Ivan Petrovich, for his part, would write him edifying dithyrambs in French in which he called him mon fils and addressed him as vous...

"When Fedya was sixteen, Ivan Petrovich considered it his duty, in good time, to instill in him a contempt for the female sex -- and the young Spartan, timid at heart, with the first down on his cheeks, full of sap, strength and new blood, made an attempt to appear indifferent, cold, and rude."


The more things change, the more they stay the same. (Right now, in fact, I'm off to lift two dumbbells. I've named them "Ivan" and "Petrovich.")

On a more serious note, I think mention of Rousseau speaks to the European influence Turgenev felt upon leaving Russia, a country that experienced waves of would-be "revolutions" trying to be ignited by intellectuals under the influence of the Enlightenment.

Sara wrote: "Prayer for her is an action, something she can do, and perhaps even feels she can do well. Striving for that life for a woman of her time I see as a parallel to intelligent and educated men striving to be gentlemen farmers."

I love this insight, Sara, and appreciate you sharing your family experience. Liza did approach religion as an active choice, and how many active choices did women of that time have? The timing of her choice to go into the convent though--it seems like an escape.

Speaking of sense of humor, and the masculinization of Fedya, I thought it was pretty funny that his father made the young Spartan run around in a kilt!

Kathleen wrote: "Sara wrote: "Prayer for her is an action, something she can do, and perhaps even feels she can do well. Striving for that life for a woman of her time I see as a parallel to intelligent and educate..."

Ditto on Sara's insight re: entering a monastery. Doing something that will affect the REST OF YOUR LIFE and doing it AGAINST THE WILL OF EVERYONE (and I do mean everyone in the family) certainly qualifies as a type of bravery.

What I liked best about Liza is how often Turgenev showed the wheels turning without always coming right out and saying what they were turning about.

Kathleen wrote: "Speaking of sense of humor, and the masculinization of Fedya, I thought it was pretty funny that his father made the young Spartan run around in a kilt!"

I haven't seen it, but isn't there an old Mel Gibson movie with Scottish he-man warriors in kilts? I think it's based on an actual Scottish hero (whose name has left my mind Scot-free).

Ken wrote: "Kathleen wrote: "Speaking of sense of humor, and the masculinization of Fedya, I thought it was pretty funny that his father made the young Spartan run around in a kilt!"

I haven't seen it, but is..."

Braveheart, and I didn't see it either. But what I did see were some episodes of "Men in Kilts," with the stars of Outlander I think (which I've never seen), but in this series they travel around Scotland together doing, among other things, manly stuff, and what I saw was pretty entertaining. :-)

Kathleen wrote: "Ken wrote: "Kathleen wrote: "Speaking of sense of humor, and the masculinization of Fedya, I thought it was pretty funny that his father made the young Spartan run around in a kilt!"

I haven't see..."


William Wallace , dude fought for Scottish independence.

Dude was not one to skirt the issue.

Historically men didn’t wear kilts until much later. Mel’s legs looked good in a kilt.

We haven't laid a glove on Panshin yet. A neat foil for Lavretsky in that he is young and apparently a looker with limited talent that he can exaggerate when necessary. Note that Lavretsky, on the other hand, is often referred to (by dear Marya) as a "fat seal."

I think I liked that the protagonist was middle-aged and overweight. Hollywood casting (and modern sensibilities) would not be pleased, but for me, it's a dose of reality.

What killed me about Panshin was, after Liza finally said "no" to his proposal, he went back inside and played cards with Marya. You'd think that was a trial he went through to get the girl, but no. Unless you're of the mind that he's so egotistical he thinks he can eventually change her mind because what eligible young lady, after all, could resist him? (In my school days, I knew a lot of "Panshins.")

I don’t think the “fat seal” translation was used by Garnett. She probably found something more decorous. It certainly didn’t stand out like the seal must have done.

I think many of us have met a Panshin. Remember Wally Cleaver in Leave it to Beaver. I think he had a friend possibly named Eddy Haskell who always played up to the boys mother. And this was a sitcom from the 1950s. The type bridges cultures. Somehow they seem to believe that they will benefit at a later point. Of course he later had his fun with Varvara.

Sara, I did include some examples in status updates during my reading and they can be found at my review. I can’t link from my iPad but will try to remember to do so later or copy some on to this page. I think I was a bit sensitized by having just finished reading another Dickens work and he sneaks so much into his character descriptions.

Sue wrote: "I don’t think the “fat seal” translation was used by Garnett. She probably found something more decorous. It certainly didn’t stand out like the seal must have done.

I think many of us have met a..."

Yes My translation never described Lavetsky as a fat seal. He was a man of middle age with greying hair, at least What was left. I was going to ask if anyone thought middle age was 42, which is what my translation said.

I just had to look. Garnett used the word "dolt" instead. I have to wonder what "fat seal" was supposed to mean? Probably some colorful Russian idiom.

And about age, we start with an "old lady" of 70, so I guess middle age could have been 40's then. :-)

And I love Sue's Panshin/Eddy Haskell comparison! I thought of Jane Austen characters like Sense and Sensibility's Willoughby or Pride and Prejudice's Wickham. Panshin is a manipulator, but he met his match with Varvara, the ultimate manipulator, didn't he!

Sue wrote: "Sara, I did include some examples in status updates during my reading and they can be found at my review. I can’t link from my iPad but will try to remember to do so later or copy some on to this p..."

I like the excerpt that Sue highlighted in her updates about Petrovich: "Pavel Petrovitch knew how to gain a footing in society; he spoke little, but, from old habit, condescendingly—though, of course, not when he was talking to persons of a higher rank than his own. He played cards carefully; ate moderately at home, but consumed enough for six at parties." --I remember giggling at the "consumed enough for six at parties" --thinking what a cheapskate he was, and what a charming way to deliver that information, when I read it. A fabulous little dig/wink.

Yes! I enjoyed the way Turgenev delivered this type of dig, sometimes more gently than others. He could be mean but his victims always seemed to deserve what he threw their way.

Hi, everybody!

I enjoyed the story more than I had expected, actually. I expected something boring at times and heart-rending at others; I've found it to be melancholy and very atmospheric.

Will go on to read your comments now :)

Ken wrote: "this work, which Freeborn calls the most "Turgenevan" of Ivan Turgenev's works. What does that eponymous adjective mean to you as a reader? What were some strengths and weaknesses of the plot, characterization, description, and writing style?"

Thank you, Ken, these are interesting questions!

I vaguely associate Turgenev with fragile female characters, so I was glad that Liza kind of knew her own mind. I do not understand, though, what she could have found in Lavretsky, and it seemed to me she had the least dialogue lines of all the characters, including the secondary ones - or am I wrong here?

As for strengths and weaknesses... Well, as soon as Lavretsky read that announcement in the magazine, I expected the dead wife to reappear, didn't you? I enjoyed the lyrical writing style (no, it didn't seem boring to me), but not the 'socio-political situation' part.

What did you think?

Wow, I'm surprised some of you liked Lavretsky :) I sympathized with his crappy childhood, but found him a bit too much, indeed, like Levin, who, for me, is one of the least likeable protagonists ever :)


Carol wrote: "Too much religiosity, pious to a fault. She did question life, but only through religion."

I thought maybe the idea was that life was difficult for clever women. Liza's mother would very much like to marry her off; I can imagine how depressed Liza must have felt thinking that there will be other suitors in future, the rejection of whom might cause equal distress to her mother. Marfa is seemingly OK now, but has been dependent on her relatives all her life, - and she now shares her home with Marya whose sociality is grating on her nerves. Marya is rather brainless, as seemingly is Lenochka, so they are fine, but Liza is not like them...

I agree this is a soap-opera-ish story, but, in my mind, better written than most soap operas :)

Kathleen wrote: "Please all, correct me here, but my uneducated impressions of the big three could be that they emphasize different things: Tolstoy the societal, Dostoyevsky the intellectual, and Turgenev the personal. A gross oversimplification, but it's what I love and find so much more accessible and relatable about Turgenev."

This is very close to how I view them!


Sara wrote: "I see Liza's choice as a genuine one for a woman who is intelligent, educated, and strong, though not socially rebellious (as Varvara is)."

This is very close to how I view Liza!
I am not sure, though, that Varvara is rebellious. She did not consciously choose to live apart from her husband; she had an affair, was found out and didn't have much choice then. Why do you consider her rebellious?

Carol wrote: "It is a psychological study I suppose , and we could go deeper into Liza’s dependence on religion and Fedya’s abuse and neglect to make him choose wrong relationship. Would Liza and him be happy given their respective childhoods?"

Yes, I do think it's a psychological study, this is why we are told about both the main characters' childhood - this is what any psychologist would ask them first, isn't this? :)

But do you think they could be happy together? I am sure he would have enjoyed her company, and I can imagine her resolving to be the best possible wife for him and striving to do so. Would she really feel fulfilled by this is another question.

Cindy wrote: "Had Lisa (how my Penguin version had her name spelled) not gone into the convent, Marya would have continued to pressure her to marry Panshin or some other eligible bachelor."

Exactly! And she was trying her best to be a good girl, and she loved her mother, too. What a dreadful prospect.

I do not think Fedor would have tried to make her his mistress, though. I think it's what he kind of promised to Marfa when she was asking him whether he was a good man.


Sue wrote: "She may have already been contemplating the convent."

Yes, she said she had been thinking about it for some time, that she felt the need to atone for the sins of her ancestors.

Sue wrote: "The characters, for me, seem to represent different aspects of Russian society of the time, including the various parents and servants who have lived in various places and levels of society."

I agree! But I liked it that all these details were not too distracting.


Ken wrote: "What killed me about Panshin was, after Liza finally said "no" to his proposal, he went back inside and played cards with Marya. You'd think that was a trial he went through to get the girl, but no. Unless you're of the mind that he's so egotistical he thinks he can eventually change her mind because what eligible young lady, after all, could resist him?"

I thought he was egoistical (we are told he only ever talked about himself), but also I don't think he was that much into Liza. He liked her and thought her a suitable match, but he wasn't really that much in love with her as to suffer.

Speaking of secondary characters... I've found Lemm's story the saddest part of the book. What happened to that beautiful piece of music he wrote, do you think he destroyed it (or just never wrote it down)?

I enjoyed the character of Anton, Lavretsky's old servant :) I was touched by his concern for Varvara (his asking about her), she probably never knew who he was. It was at this moment that Lavretsky said he had divorced his wife, by the way, the confusing sentence. As I understand it, the church did not recognize divorce anyway, so Liza wouldn't have recognized it either. But I don't think he actually divorced his wife; I think he meant they were separated.

What I liked about Lavretsky was that, although life had thrown him so many punches, he just kept trying to figure things out. I liked his conversations with Anton and with Lemm. He came across as caring about people.

I think what Liza liked about him was his kindness but more his beliefs (not religion, but everything else), which were more in line with her own.

Kathleen wrote: "which were more in line with her own"
But she was very religious, and he wasn't?
I think maybe they were both independent in their thinking, and thus both felt not quite at home in that society?

Plateresca wrote: "Kathleen wrote: "which were more in line with her own"
But she was very religious, and he wasn't?
I think maybe they were both independent in their thinking, and thus both felt not quite at home in..."

I think that's true about their independent thinking, but also, Lavretsky had an argument with Panshin at one point, Lavretsky taking a pro-independent Russia stance that Liza agreed with. Panshin was for Europeanization I think, and his barbs at Russia offended Lisa. At least that was my understanding. :-)

I agree with Kathleen that Lavretsky scores points for his empathy, something many other characters lacked. Lemm is a perfect example -- and yes, Plateresca, what a well-drawn character (for a minor one) Lemm is!

Note how Panshin enjoys ridiculing or ignoring or doing the old passive-aggressive on the old guy, a teacher who genuinely cares about music and who literally blossoms when Lavretsky pays attention to and shows interest in his artistic efforts.

Panshin could never love Liza because, quite frankly, he was too much in love with himself. I thought it was brilliant that Turgenev ended Panshin as a bachelor -- a young man who could marry most anyone due to his position in society, looks, money, etc., but who let it all go because he was busy cavorting with another man's wife (albeit estranged wife). Thus, he ages, apparently satisfied with his permanent mistress (and really, can anyone imagine Varvara being satisfied with one lover -- one can cheat on a lover as well as a husband, after all).

Was there no divorce in 19th-century Russia?

Finally, a negative about Liza. It annoyed me when she used the high footing of religion to tell Lavretsky what he MUST do vis-a-vis his returned wife and daughter. She made him promise. In essence, she boxed him in to permanent unhappiness because, apparently, that's what Jesus would do (forgetting that none of us is Jesus, try as we might...).

Oh, I can totally see how he was much better than Panshin (to Liza, and to the readers) :)
Yes, I see, thank you for reminding me of this, they're both very Russian in a way. Huh, the Paris-living Varvara and her French maid, on the other hand, are evil.

By the way, I enjoyed the character of the French maid, she's so recognizable. At first I thought her 'À la guerre comme à la guerre' remark callous, but then I realized that if she really felt that way, she must have been very brave and loyal to come to Russia with her mistress.

Ken wrote: "Was there no divorce in 19th-century Russia?"

As far as I understand, to get an official divorce he would have to go to court and prove his wife's infidelity, with witnesses and her own admission. I'm sure he would get squeamish at the very thought of it.
But then again, very religious people like Liza would think that a secular divorce cannot annul a church marriage. And then again, according to Liza's beliefs, he was to forgive his wife, not kick her out as a court-proven adulteress.

I agree, Liza is very sure she knows the right way. As a mother of a teenager, though, I do not think it is so uncommon at a certain age :)