Many of the characters in The Government Inspector are motivated by the desire for external validation. When Khlestakov says, “After all, what does one really need? Only to be respected and genuinely liked,” he reveals his longing for outside approval. He frequently shows off and presents himself as more impressive than he actually is to attract other people’s adoration. Yet, in reality, Khlestakov is nobody important, nor does he do any honest work to earn the respect and admiration he desires. Similarly, the mayor puts more effort into seeming a good mayor when he thinks the government inspector has arrived than he does into being a good mayor. He hurries to make superficial changes to the town to conceal corruption instead of addressing the townspeople’s complaints. Also, as soon as the mayor believes his daughter Marya Antonovna will marry an important man, he solicits everyone’s congratulations to enhance his own reputation and self-importance. Like Khlestakov, the mayor wants attention, respect, and admiration from the people around him, although he does nothing to earn these things. Furthermore, at the end of the play, the mayor and other town officials are more upset that Khlestakov has turned them into laughingstocks than they are remorseful about their numerous wrongdoings. More than anything else, the officials care about their images. By showing how morally corrupt and foolish these characters are, the play exposes a comically large gap between the admiration they desire and the ridicule they deserve. In doing so, the play ultimately ridicules people who are so morally corrupt that they believe external validation for appearing good is more important than actually doing good.
External Validation ThemeTracker
External Validation Quotes in The Government Inspector
Now you listen, this is what you must do. Constable Pugovitsyn is very tall, so station him on the bridge to create a good impression. And tell them to pull down that old fence by the shoemaker’s and stick up some poles to make it look like a building site. The more we pull down the busier the mayor will appear.
But no: he has to show off in every town. “I say, Osip,” he tells me, “fish around and find me the best room and order a first-rate dinner—no inferior cooking for me, nothing but the best will do.” It wouldn’t be so bad if he really was a somebody, but he’s just a lousy little clerk.
And I’m like you—I’ve no time for two-faced people. I find your frankness and cordiality most gratifying. I do confess that I ask for nothing more out of life than devotion and respect, respect and devotion.
Now, Mashenka, we have to decide what to wear. He’s a Petersburg man-about-town, so I hope he won’t laugh at us.
Once I was even taken for the Commander-in-Chief himself. The soldiers leapt out of the guardroom and presented arms. Afterwards an officer—a great friend of mine—told me: “Well, old man, we really did think you were the Commander-in-Chief!”
After all, what does one really need? Only to be respected and genuinely liked.
What are you laughing at? You’re laughing at yourselves, that’s what!