Russian Classics in Soviet Jackets 9780231889988

Citation preview

R U S S I A N CLASSICS in SOVIET J A C K E T S

S T U D I E S OF THE R U S S I A N I N S T I T U T E COLUMBIA

UNIVERSITY

RUSSIAN CLASSICS in SOVIET JACKETS by MAURICE FRIEDBERG

* COLUMBIA

UNIVERSITY

P R E S S \uLCr

NEW Y O R K AND LONDON

1962

The transliteration system used in this series is based on the Library of Congress system, with some modifications

Copyright O 1958, 1962, Columbia University Pre» Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 62-9707 Manufactured in the United States of America

The Russian Institute of Columbia University

T h e Russian Institute was established by Columbia University in 1946 to serve two major objectives: the training of a limited number of well-qualified Americans for scholarly and professional careers in the field of Russian studies, and the development of research in the social sciences and the humanities as they relate to Russia and the Soviet Union. T h e research program of the Russian Institute is conducted through the efforts of its faculty members, of scholars invited to participate as Senior Fellows in its program, and of candidates for the Certificate of the Institute and for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. Some of the results of the research program are presented in the Studies of the Russian Institute of Columbia University. T h e faculty of the Institute, without necessarily agreeing with the conclusions reached in the Studies, believe that their publication advances the difficult task of promoting systematic research on Russia and the Soviet Union and public understanding of the problems involved.

Studies of the Russian Institute SOVIET N A T I O N A L INCOME AND PRODUCT IN 1 9 3 7

Abram

Bergson

THROUGH THE CLASS OF SOVIET L I T E R A T U R E : VIEWS O F RUSSIAN SOCIETY

Edited

by Ernest J.

THE PROLETARIAN EPISODE IN RUSSIAN L I T E R A T U R E ,

Simmons

I928-1932

Edward J. Brown M A N A G E M E N T OF THE INDUSTRIAL F I R M IN THE USSR: A STUDY IN SOVIET

ECONOMIC PLANNING

David

SOVIET POLICIES IN CHINA, 1 9 1 7 - 1 9 2 4

Allen

UKRAINIAN NATIONALISM, 1 9 3 9 - 1 9 4 5

John

POLISH POSTWAR ECONOMY

THE EMERGENCE OF RUSSIAN P A N S L A V I S M ,

Whiting

A.

Thad

LITERARY POLITICS IN THE SOVIET UKRAINE,

Granick

S.

Armstrong

Paul

Alton

George S. N.

Luckyj

1917-1934

1856-1870

Michael BOLSHEVISM IN TURKESTAN, 1 9 1 7 - 1 9 2 7

Boro

Petrovich

Alexander

THE LAST YEARS OF THE GEORGIAN M O N A R C H Y ,

G.

Park

1658-1832

David Marshall LENIN ON TRADE UNIONS AND REVOLUTION,

Thomas THE JAPANESE THRUST INTO SIBERIA, 1 9 1 8

Taylor

James

SOVIET M A R X I S M : A CRITICAL A N A L Y S I S THE AGRARIAN FOES O F BOLSHEVISM:

Lang

1893-I917

Hammond

William

Morley

Herbert

Marcuse

PROMISE AND D E F A U L T O F

RUSSIAN SOCIALIST REVOLUTIONARIES, F E B R U A R Y T O OCTOBER,

Oliver H. SOVIET P O L I C Y AND T H E CHINESE COMMUNISTS,

THE

I917

Radkey

1931-1946

Charles B.

McLane

PATTERN FOR SOVIET Y O U T H : A STUDY O F T H E CONGRESSES OF T H E K O M -

SOMOL, 1918-1954

Ralph

Talcott

THE EMERGENCE OF MODERN LITHUANIA THE SOVIET DESIGN FOR A WORLD STATE

Alfred Elliot

Fisher, Erich

R.

Jr. Senn

Goodman

SETTLING DISPUTES IN SOVIET SOCIETY: T H E F O R M A T I V E YEARS OF L E G A L

INSTITUTIONS SOVIET MARXISM AND N A T U R A L SCIENCE, 1 9 1 7 - 1 9 3 2 RUSSIAN CLASSICS IN SOVIET JACKETS

John N. David Maurice

Hazard Joravsky Friedberg

TO

BARBARA

Preface

It is generally agreed that progress in the liquidation of illiteracy and gigantic strides in the printing of books are among the proudest achievements of the Soviet regime. Statistics of book production indicate that the USSR is at the present time among the world's largest book publishers. The achievements, however, have not been entirely Soviet. A very successful struggle against illiteracy had been waged long before 1917 both by government-backed and private organizations. Yet few scholars seem to be aware of the fact that in the production of books the otherwise backward Imperial Russia was one of the world's most advanced countries. Already at the end of the eighteenth century the Russian output was approximately one title every day—a very considerable figure for that period. 1 On the eve of the First World War Russia produced annually twenty times as many titles as she did half a century earlier, after the abolition of serfdom. By 1913 Russia was the second largest producer of books in the world, ranking close to Germany in number of titles and equaling the total of Great Britain, France, and the United States combined. Spectacular progress had also been achieved by Imperial Russia in the dissemination of books. In 1848 the printings of all books combined totaled 766,000 copies. T h e figure for 1913 was 89,ΙΟΟ,ΟΟΟ.2 The tasks both of combating illiteracy and of expanding publishing were, not unexpectedly, assigned high priority in the plans of the newly formed Soviet government in 1917. T h e 1 Kufaev, Istorila russkoi knigi, p. 51. 2 Ibid., p. 113; Kul'turnoe stroitel'stvo SSSR, p. 317.

χ

PREFACE

former was necessary in a modern industrial society; the latter was imperative for the smooth functioning of a totalitarian state built on the dual principles of persuasion and coercion. Forty years later, in 1957, Soviet book production was over one billion copies—a figure, interestingly enough, approached quite closely in 1930 and 1931, the years of collectivization and the launching of the First Five-Year Plan. Although this was approximately 25 percent more than the corresponding figure for the United States, nevertheless, in the production of actual books the Soviet Union is still lagging behind America. It should be borne in mind that the Soviet definition of what constitutes a book is a very broad one, and Soviet figures, therefore, comprise also many millions of pamphlets, reprints, and other items not normally included in Western statistics. As can be seen from Table 1 in Appendix A, between 1913 and 1957 Russia's annual output of copies of books increased twelvefold, while the number of titles expanded only by some 70 percent. In 1957, moreover, thousands of titles were translations of Russian books into foreign languages and the languages of the national minorities, while additional thousands dealt with specialized areas of science and technology unknown on the eve of the First World War. In the light of these facts one must conclude that the 70-percent increase is a very modest one. Indeed, it is very likely that, apart from translations and professional literature, the selection of books available to Russia's citizenry in 1957 was actually smaller than in 1913. A comparison of prerevolutionary book publishing with that of the Soviet Union thus reveals that in Imperial Russia a much smaller literate population read a rather wide variety of books, whereas in the USSR an enormously increased reading public reads a proportionately small selection of books. Many observers of the contemporary American scene decry the tendency toward intellectual conformity that to a degree is reflected in the "middle-brow" syndicated newspaper columns, radio and television networks, and book clubs. Promoted by business interests for financial gain, the activities of these enterprises, it is said, result in a gradual destruction of intellectual individualism.

PREFACE

xi

In the USSR the small selection of books is the direct result of the officially sponsored regimentation of thought. There are many copies of books in bookstores and libraries because the state is eager to have its citizens read certain books and has no objection to the reading of others. But the selection of titles is small because only "good" books are permitted to appear, because the only political party is the sole arbiter in determining what is to be read, and because dissenters cannot publish any books at all. At any one particular period Soviet publishing houses bring out only one history of the Communist Party, only one textbook of Soviet history, and only one interpretation of Marxism-Leninism. T h e only variety there is consists of "serious" editions versus popularizations—but no divergent points of view appear in print simultaneously. In imaginative literature, to be sure, there is much more variety. New books are written in dozens of languages, and all the traditional genres are represented. There are Soviet odes and lyric poetry, comedies and short stories, novels and serious drama. Yet, on closer examination, it becomes apparent that the actual variety is really quite limited. T h e many national literatures, according to a well-known Soviet formula, are only national in form (that is, language); they are all "socialist" in content. And all Soviet writers, irrespective of genre or language, officially subscribe to the doctrine of Socialist Realism, which provides not only for political unanimity but for a remarkable degree of artistic uniformity as well. T h e Russians have traditionally been known as avid readers of all types of literature. Publishing statistics reproduced in Table 8 in Appendix C confirm that the selection of belleslettres available to Russian readers before the Revolution was both varied and plentiful. In 1901, literature accounted for one fifth of all titles published and for one fourth of the total number of copies. A half century later, in 1957, the number of titles was only some 9 percent, but the number of copies actually increased to one third of the total. T h e foreign traveler in the USSR is occasionally dismayed at the discovery of educated Russians who have never read Joyce and Proust and Kafka. But it would be incorrect to infer

xii

PREFACE

from this that the reading of Soviet citizens consists only of the products of Socialist Realism. Even during the darkest periods of Soviet history, Russians have had access to the classics of Western literature and to their own literary heritage. Since 1918, Soviet publishing houses have brought out hundreds of millions of copies of Tolstoy and Pushkin, Chekhov and Turgenev, Lermontov and Dostoyevsky, Gogol and Nekrasov. There can be no doubt that these and other nineteenth-century Russian authors have exerted and continue to exert a spiritual influence on generations of Soviet citizens. What were the aims pursued by the authorities when they decided to make the works of these non-Soviet writers available to their subjects? True, their works represent literary art at its best—but then, art solely for art's sake is a concept alien to the Soviet mentality. In addition, even the most "innocent" and "noncontroversial" classics are, in a way, carriers of philosophical and ideological values; in eighteenth-century England, Alexander Pope had called the Aeneid "political puff"— "its dreamy, impersonal, universal melancholy was a calculated support for Augustus." 3 Our century offers at least two outstanding examples of the ideological potential with which the Russian classics are charged: the influence of Tolstoy on India's struggle for independence, and that of Dostoyevsky on the Existentialist philosophers. Some indications of Soviet intentions are to be found in the selection of prerevolutionary authors and titles for publication, in their comparative printings, and, above all, in the "timing" of their appearance. Much can also be learned from the large body of literary criticism devoted to the Russian classics. T h e changing official attitudes toward the older works of Soviet literature are also reflected in the textual revisions in their successive editions aimed at bringing them into conformity with the current policies of the Soviet state.4 So far as we 3 William Empson, Some Versions of Pastoral (Norfolk, Conn.: New Directions, I960), p. 3. 4 See Maurice Friedberg, "New Editions of Soviet Belles Lettres: A Study in Politics and Palimpsests," The American Slavic and East European Review, Vol. XIII, No. 1 (February, 1954); Maurice Friedberg. "Soviet Literature and Retroactive Truth," Problems of Communism, Vol. Ill, No. 1 (January-February, 1954).

PREFACE

xiii

know, the texts of literary works by the nineteenth-century Russian masters have not been tampered with by Soviet editors; in any case, no evidence to the contrary has been discovered to date by Western scholars, with the exception of some liberties that were taken in the selection and abridgment of the correspondence of Chekhov and of Dostoyevsky.6 Perhaps a thorough study of successive Soviet editions of the Russian classics would yield some interesting results. T h e subject is both vast and complex—it would require, incidentally, an examination of the original manuscripts in order to establish the authenticity of the "definitive" texts. No attempt will be made to deal with this problem within the scope of the present book. Since Stalin's death Soviet-Western relations have been marked by ever-expanding "cultural exchanges," which—to paraphrase Clausewitz's famous maxim—are a continuation of the cold war by other means. In efforts to gain international good will and support for Soviet policies, major cities of Western Europe and America have been treated to performances of great Soviet dancers, musicians, and actors. With rare exceptions, the performances themselves were free of apparent political propaganda; but the aims of the artists' sponsors have been obvious enough. The great classics of prerevolutionary Russian literature have been assigned a somewhat similar task in the Soviet government's unceasing battle for the allegiance of its citizens. But is it really possible to use "bourgeois" art to strengthen a nation's loyalty to a "proletarian" ideology? Can libertarian and nonconformist writings of a century gone by help foster obedience and conformity? These are some of the questions examined in the chapters that follow. The present book is based on a dissertation written under the guidance of Professor Ernest J. Simmons. I have been a beneficiary of his great scholarship, uncommon kindness, and unfailing assistance. Professors William E. Harkins, William B. Edgerton, Rufus W. Mathewson, Jr., and Leon Stilman were Β Gleb Struve, "Chekhov in Communist Censorship," Slavonic and East European Review (London), Vol. XXXIII, No. 1 (June, 1955); David I. Goldstein, "Rewriting Dostoevsky's Letters," The American Slavic and East European Review, Vol. XX, No. 2 (April, 1961).

xiv

PREFACE

generous with their valuable advice. Miss Louise E. Luke of Columbia University's Russian Institute and Mrs. Kathryn W. Sewny of Columbia University Press have contributed numerous editorial suggestions. T o all of them I wish to express my gratitude. New York City 1962 February,

M A U R I C E FRIEDBERG

Contents

I II

Publishing and Public Opinion

1

The Early Publishing Fate of the Classics

20

Publication of the Russian Classics by Government-Owned Firms

27

Types of Edition

42

V

Official Attitudes toward the Russian Classics

81

VI

The Russian Classics and the Soviet Readers

148

"Bourgeois" Literature in a "Socialist" Society

167

III IV

VII

Appendixes A. Book Output Statistics

177

B. Library Holdings in the USSR

180

C. Printing of All Types of Literature

182

D. Publication of Prerevolutionary Literature

186

E. The Tolstoy Jubilee Edition: A Profile

200

F. The Russian Classics in Soviet Criticism: A Soviet Lampoon

203

Bibliography

207

Index

213

Tables

1 Book Output of Imperial and Soviet Russia 2 Soviet Book Output in Russian and Minority Languages 3 Soviet Book and Pamphlet Output by Subject Matter in 1957 4 Distribution of World Book Output (Titles Only) by Subject Matter in 1954 5 Libraries in the USSR and T h e i r Book Holdings 6 Types of Libraries and Their Book Holdings in 1954 7 Book and Periodical Holdings (by Subject Category) of the 60,565 Public Libraries of the USSR Ministry of Culture 8 Printing of Belles-Lettres, Juvenile Literature, and Folk Literature in Imperial Russia 9 Printing of Belles-Lettres in the USSR in 1950 and 1955 10 Soviet Printing of Belles-Lettres per Annum: 1918-57 11 Output of T h r e e Soviet Publishing Houses in 1940, 1950, and 1956 12 Nationalization of the Classics in 1918: List of Authors Whose Works Were Declared a Monopoly of the State 13 Publication of Russian-Language Multivolume Editions of the Classics: 1918-52 14 Forty-Nine Prerevolutionary Russian Authors Ranked by Number of Copies of Their Works Printed in Russian by Government-Owned Firms: 1918-41

177 178 179 179 180 180

181 182 183 184 185

186 187

188

XVUl

15

16

17 18 19 20 21 22 23

TABLES

Fifteen Prerevolutionary Russian Writers Listed in Order of Total Number of Copies of Their Works Printed in Russian by Government-Owned Firms: 1918-41 Fifteen Prerevolutionary Russian Writers Listed in Order of Total Number of Copies of Their Works Printed in All Languages by Government-Owned Publishing Firms: 1918-57 Printing of Russian Classics by Privately Owned Publishing Firms: 1918-23 Printing of Russian Classics by Government-Owned Publishing Firms: 1918-23 Printing ot Russian Classics by Government-Owned Publishing Firms: 1924-29 Printing of Russian Classics by Government-Owned Publishing Firms: 1930-33 Printing of Russian Classics by Government-Owned Publishing Firms: 1934-37 Printing of Russian Classics by Government-Owned Publishing Firms: 1938-41 Summary: Printing of Russian-Language Editions of Russian Classics by Government-Owned and Privately Owned Firms, 1918-41

189

190 190 191 192 193 195 197

199

RUSSIAN CLASSICS in SOVIET J A C K E T S

H flojiro 6yay T6M jno6e3eH a Hapoay Hto ïyBCTBa floòpne a .rapoä npoôyacsaji Ητο Β MOfl JKeCTOKIlfl BGK BOCCJiaBHil a CBOÔOfly H MHJIOCTb Κ na^niHM npH3HBaJI. I shall be loved, and long the people will remember The kindly thoughts I stirred—my music's brightest crownHow in this cruel age I celebrated freedom And begged for ruth toward those cast down. PUSHKIN

I Publishing and Public Opinion Individuals, groups, and governments can use books for educational purposes. They can encourage and facilitate the reading of certain books and place obstacles in the way of reading others. The most primitive among these "educational" methods is the shielding of people from the "destructive" influence of undesirable works. An anxious mother may conceal a volume of naughty stories from her adolescent daughter. An association of booksellers may, under the pressure of an aroused public, adopt a resolution forbidding its members to sell horror comics. The Post Office may ban some books from the mails on the grounds of alleged obscenity. Certain libraries may remove from their shelves works which are considered objectionable for one reason or another. The Church may forbid its faithful to read a particular work of a writer. And then there is, of course, the ancient though by no means extinct art of bookburning. All these restrictions, however, fall short of the goals envisaged by their promulgators. The prudish matron's daughter, more often than not, will become curious about the forbidden book and find ways to obtain a copy. Youngsters interested in horror comics will probably buy them from less scrupulous news vendors. Books that cannot be sent through the mails are quite efficiently distributed through other channels. Works that are not to be found in public libraries can readily be obtained from private sources. Novels appearing on the Index of forbid-

2

PUBLISHING AND PUBLIC

OPINION

den books are not infrequently the best sellers—on occasion precisely for that reason. And it is difficult, if not outright impossible, to burn every copy of a book that has already been published. T o cite an early Russian example: Alexander Radishchev's Journey from Petersburg to Moscow, a famous eighteenth-century denunciation of serfdom and autocracy, originally appeared in a mere 650 copies. All but six or seven of these were seized and burned upon orders from Catherine the Great. 1 Yet the work continued to be read, as were hundreds of other works banned in tsarist Russia. " I f they cannot be procured, they are copied by hand," said a historian of Russian publishing. 2 T o forbid undesirable books already in print, and, to a lesser degree, to prevent others from appearing, clearly does not solve the problem. In the words of Fëdor Tiutchev, one of Russia's greatest poets and also for a time head of the Foreign Censorship office in the middle of the last century: Absolute and prolonged restriction and oppression cannot be imposed upon minds without causing substantial harm to the social organism as a whole. . . . In the long run authority itself cannot escape the consequences of a similar regime.3 Unless one is to abolish literacy altogether—and a tsarist edict of 1735 did envisage such a possibility, at least with regard to common folk, "so as not to distract them from ordinary labor" 4 —one cannot simply ban "bad" books; it is equally necessary to provide readers with the alternative of "good" books. Three nineteenth-century Russian authors (A. K. Tolstoy and the brothers Zhemchuzhnikov), writing under a collective pseudonym "Koz'ma Prutkov," noted sarcastically in their "Plan for the Establishment of Uniformity of Thought in Russia": Every Russian nobleman is possessed of the desire not to err; but in order to satisfy this desire it is necessary to have the material with which to form opinion. But where is this material? The only mate1 Kufaev, Istorila russkoi knigi, p. 36. 2 Ibid., p. 35. This technique is not unknown in the Soviet Union today. Typewritten copies of illegal or out-of-print books can be purchased from secondhand dealers, the bukinisty. 3 Quoted in Ernest J. Simmons, ed., Continuity and Change in Russian and Soviet Thought (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1955), p. 426. * Kufaev, Istorila russkoi knigi, p. 28.

PUBLISHING AND PUBLIC OPINION

3

rial can be the opinion of the authorities; otherwise there is no assurance that the opinion is correct.5 Koz'ma Prutkov's alarm was based on facts. In the first part of the nineteenth century, "the Emperor . . . believed it unseemly for a great state to enter into an arena with common journalists, or to attempt to 'sway' opinion which ought normally to be commanded." 6 In the words of Admiral Shishkov, then minister of education, "if the government permits critical judgments by its subjects concerning its intentions, it places itself, as it were, in a certain dependence on their conclusions and is therefore obligated to account for itself before them." 7 The difficulty of forming "correct opinions" was further aggravated by the fact that Imperial censorship was exceptionally inconsistent; it was never quite explicit in drawing a line between forbidden and permissible books, let alone between the permissible and the recommended.8 Of S. Uvarov, another minister of education, it was said that "on one occasion, bedeviled by pressures from all sides, he expressed the wish to one of his assistants that literature might be abolished altogether." 9 Writers who incurred the displeasure of the authorities were subjected to various forms of persecution. Their works were banned; they were spied upon by the police of the infamous Third Section; they were deprived of freedom of movement; they were exiled or forced into the army as privates. It should be noted that in some instances the writers were not aware that they were breaking the ambiguously worded law. As the Russian proverb goes, zakon chto dyshlo: a law can always be given a different interpretation. The staunchly reactionary writer Faddei Bulgarin seems to have been the only one to understand the serious implications of Koz'ma Prutkov's jest. He proposed that the government, in addition to surveillance of writers suspected of political opposi5 Simmons, Continuity and Change in Russian and Soviet Thought, p. «Sidney Monas, "SiSkov, Bulgarin, and the Russian Censorship," Thought and Politics, ed. Hugh McLean, Martin E. Malia, and George (Harvard Slavic Studies, IV; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1957), τ Ibid., p. 134. 8 Simmons, Continuity and Change in Russian and Soviet Thought, pp. passim. » Monas, "Siäkov, Bulgarin, and the Russian Censorship," p. 139.

427. Russian Fischer p. 137. 417-32

4

PUBLISHING A N D PUBLIC

OPINION

tion, also engage in supporting economically "the right people." 10 But for reasons enumerated above, and also because many loyal writers would resent such support, 11 the proposals were never implemented on a large scale. There was never any significant body of government-sponsored literature in Imperial Russia. 12 Indeed, even the books that were permitted to appear were not necessarily those of which the government really approved. T h e final seal of the censor signified only the absence of objectionable passages, which often had to be eliminated before publication was allowed. On the whole, it might be said that prerevolutionary Russian literature consisted of works that were covertly—and in some relaxed periods quite openly—hostile to the regime or indifferent to it. In nineteenth-century Russia, in view of the stifling censorship imposed on the press and the absence of legal political activity, literature was the principal battleground in the clash of ideas. It is perhaps for this reason that literary disputes in prerevolutionary Russia were more embittered and attracted a greater degree of public attention than they did elsewhere in Europe. Russian newspapers, which had no parliamentary debates to report, covered in detail the progress of literary disputes. T h e Russian public, eager for political discussion and finding none in the press, sought in works of fiction and literary criticism for any hint of political polemic. In the 1860s, unbelievable as this may seem, the author whose works were in greatest demand in the public libraries was the critic Vissarion Belinskii. 13 At no time, however, did the tsarist authorities attempt seriously to channel this sentiment in the direction of works created or selected with their approbation. State-supported and state-sponsored literature—literature as an active tool of government policy—emerged in Russia only after the coup d'état of November 7, 1917. 10 Ibid., p. 133. 11 Ibid., p. 137. 12 There was, however, a substantial number of government-sponsored pamphlets, particularly in the 1890s. Some of these, such as those of Bogdanovich, were clad in the form of fiction. On occasion these pamphlets were distributed free of charge. See Kufaev, Istorila russkoi knigi, p. 233. 13 Ibid., p. 159.

PUBLISHING A N D P U B L I C O P I N I O N

5

Lenin's now famous article on "Party Organization and Party Literature" appeared in 1905. At the time of its publication the then Russian Social Democratic Labor Party had just become a legal political movement, and its press, hitherto dependent on underground Party publicists, was in a position to accept contributors from the outside. Lenin feared that a large influx of new men might deprive the Party's press of its militant spirit and even sway its editorial policy. He was determined that the Party should retain absolute control of its publications. Writers vaguely sympathetic to the revolutionary cause were given a choice of submitting to the Party's discipline and supervision or publishing in other newspapers. In 1905 there were various liberal publications that would accept their contributions. These are important facts to remember, because in later years the article "Party Organization and Party Literature" was considerably broadened in its application by Soviet authorities. An article that was meant to protect the ideological purity of the press of a particular political party in conditions of relative freedom of the press was used to justify the existence of a one-party press; an article that dealt specifically with political journalism was later represented as the foundation for policies affecting all types of publishing, including that of belles-lettres. Lenin wrote in 1905: Not only may not literature be an instrument of gain for an individual or groups, but also . . . it may not be an individual matter at all. It cannot be independent of general proletarian activities. Down with non-party writersl Down with literary supermenl Literature must become a part of proletarian activities in general; it must become a "wheel and a screw" of the single great Social-Democratic mechanism which is driven by the vanguard of the whole working class. Literature must become a component part of organized, planned, unified Social-Democratic Party work.14 Lenin continued in his article: We want to create and we will create a free press, free not only from police, but also free from capital, free from careerism. It will also be free from bourgeois-anarchistic individualism.15 14 V. I. Lenin, Sochtneniia 15 Ibid., VIII, 388.

(Works), 3d ed., VIII (Moscow: 1931), 387.

6

PUBLISHING A N D PUBLIC

OPINION

T h e cryptic reference to "bourgeois-anarchistic individualism" became more explicit twelve years later, when Lenin returned to the subject of freedom of the press in an article written early in 1917: The capitalists (and with them, wittingly or unwittingly, many Social Revolutionaries and Mensheviks) define as "freedom of the press" a state of affairs whereby censorship is abolished and all parties freely publish all kinds of newspapers. In reality, this is not freedom of the press, but freedom to deceive the oppressed and exploited masses of the people by the rich, by the bourgeoisie.16 T h r e e days after the Bolshevik coup d'état of November 7, 1917, Lenin signed the decree prohibiting the publication of all opposition newspapers. T o pacify public opinion at home and abroad the decree stressed the temporary character of the measure: As soon as the new order becomes stabilized, all administrative restrictions of the press will be lifted and complete freedom of the press will be established, subject only to limitations of legal liability, in accordance with the broadest and most progressive legislation on this problem. 17 T h e decree was never revoked and now, more than forty years later, is still in force. So is an article in the Soviet constitution proclaiming freedom of the press as one of the basic rights of Soviet citizens! T h e article and the decree make particularly interesting reading when compared with a pronouncement by Stalin. Stalin wrote in Problems of Leninism: We have no freedom of the press for the bourgeoisie. We have no freedom of the press for the Mensheviks and the Social Revolutionaries. Why should this be surprising? We never pledged ourselves to grant freedom of the press to all classes, to make all classes happy. When the Bolsheviks assumed power in October, 1917, they openly declared that this power was the power of one class, the power of the proletariat which would suppress the bourgeoisie in the interests of the toiling masses of the city and of the countryside who represented a decisive majority of the population of the USSR.18 16 Quoted in Nazarov, Ocherki istorii sovetskogo knigoizdatel'stva, p. 63. 17 T h e Press Decree of November 10, 1917. Text in O partiinoi i sovetskoi pechati, p. 173. 18 Quoted in Bol'shaia sovetskaia entsihlopediia, 1st ed., XXVII (1933), 566.

PUBLISHING AND PUBLIC

OPINION

7

Actually, the Soviet position is that there is really no inconsistency between their protestations that only in the USSR is there real freedom of the press and the fact that all of the Soviet press is controlled by the Communist Party. On the contrary, they claim that the USSR has freedom of the press in its highest form because the press is so controlled. T h e argument runs approximately as follows. The Soviet Union was founded on the idea of the dictatorship of the proletariat. This dictatorship represents the tremendous majority of the population. There cannot be freedom of the press for both the majority and the minority, and so the freedom for the majority, which has been achieved at the price of denying it to the minority, is just and democratic. In the capitalist countries, Soviet apologists would have us believe, the concept of freedom of the press is really a sham because it benefits only a small minority, the capitalists who possess the material means to exercise the right to freedom of the press. And the capitalists use the press to deceive the masses and to perpetuate their exploitation of the masses. What Soviet sources fail to point out is that in the Soviet Union itself the entire publishing industry is controlled by a small minority which denies the right to publish to a tremendous majority. In the Soviet Union the dictatorship of the proletariat in reality amounts to a dictatorship of the Communist Party over the proletariat; the Party itself is in turn ruled by a Central Committee, which in practice accepts the dictatorship of a small Presidium. And under a Stalin or a Khrushchev this is tantamount to the dictatorship of an individual in all matters concerning the press. During the first decade of the Soviet regime, belles-lettres enjoyed more freedom than journalism. There were no privately owned newspapers, but there were in the 1920s—as can be seen elsewhere in this study—many nongovernmental publishing enterprises. These were subject to censorship roughly comparable to that of prerevolutionary times, but otherwise they enjoyed a comparatively large degree of freedom in selecting books for publication. As late as 1928 privately owned enterprises, for example, published religious books, which at that time still amounted to 0.5 percent of the total book output of

8

PUBLISHING AND PUBLIC

OPINION

the USSR—a small figure in comparison with the prerevolutionary 13 percent of religious books but not insignificant under Soviet conditions. 19 T h e State Publishing House (Gosizdat) was organized by the decree of January 18, 1918—barely ten weeks after the Communist seizure of power.20 T h e first months of its existence demonstrated that the main reason for its establishment was not commercial competition with the "bourgeois" publishers. The activities of the State Publishing House made it evident that its primary purpose was to assist the Party in the complex task of educating and reeducating the masses in the spirit of the new ideology. This was to be accomplished by the publication of books dealing with timely topics presented in an appropriate light and subsequently distributed among those groups of readers on which their message would have most effect. Gradually it became clear that the Party made no fundamental distinction between what was and what should be printed. T h e political militancy of Communist journalism slowly came to be reflected in the domain of belles-lettres; the strict controls imposed on the daily press spread into the domain of the artistic word. T h e Party was to benefit from everything that was printed, whether it was intended as a vehicle of information or as a work of art. It is this failure to distinguish between journalism and literature—a phenomenon which, incidentally, has roots going as far back as the late 1850s—that constitutes the tragedy of Soviet letters. The artistic failure that characterizes so much of modern Soviet writing does not appear to be caused by lack of literary talent; it certainly cannot be blamed on the unwillingness of the Party to encourage good literature. T h e underlying cause of this state of affairs, it seems, is the fact that the Party does not fundamentally differentiate between the contents of belles-lettres and the contents of a newspaper. Both, in the last analysis, are political, and both must serve the interests of the Party. A 1» Lunacharskii and Khalatov, Voprosy kul'turnogo stroitel'stva RSFSR, pp. 69-70. 20 Curiously enough, the text of the decree mentions unemployment in the printing trade as one of the reasons for the measure. See O partiinoi i sovetskoi pechati, p. 173.

PUBLISHING AND PUBLIC OPINION

9

writer, therefore, must not only follow the laws of literary creation and make his work esthetically appealing; he must also make certain that his book reflects the partiinost' (Partymindedness) of Soviet journalism. In short, the Soviet writer must make certain that his book includes a "message," that this "message" is easily comprehensible, and that the problem tackled by the book is as timely as that of a newspaper editorial. A large number of Soviet writers—Ilya Ehrenburg, Konstantin Simonov, Nikolai Tikhonov, Aleksei Surkov, to mention but a few—are also practicing journalists. Very frequently the hurried quality, impermanence, and political crusading of journalism are evident in their poems, novels, and dramas, and detract from their literary value. Some of the great Russian writers of the past, it may be said, were also journalists. The two examples that come to one's mind are Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky. T h e i r truly great works, however, are those in which journalism was not allowed to interfere with art, the only " t r u t h " was artistic truth, and the problems tackled transcend the limits of geography and history. Even Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky failed when they attempted to merge didactic newspaper writing with belles-lettres. And since in the U S S R it is far less dangerous to fail artistically than politically, art is usually sacrificed in the forcible marriage of literature and political journalism. T h e ideological and cultural policies of the State Publishing House are reflected in the publishing statistics regularly appearing in Knizhnaia letopis' (Book Annals), which lists the names of authors, titles, and sizes of editions; statistics dealing with the classics of prerevolutionary Russian literature are examined elsewhere in this study. Our findings indicate that Soviet publishing policy, as outlined in 1929 at the Sixteenth All-Union Congress of Soviets, remained basically unchanged in the years that followed: In bygone years the disseminator of books sold books and that was all. Nowadays . . . it is not enough to be simply a bookseller. One must at the same time use books to conduct political work among the people.21 Lunacharsldi and Khalatov, Voprosy hul'turnogo stroitel'stva RSFSR, p. 76.

IO

PUBLISHING AND PUBLIC OPINION

The Soviet state and the Communist Party have placed books at the service of socialist construction and demand that books wage an active struggle for the progress and reconstruction of the national economy, for proletarian ideology, and for a rise in the cultural standards of the masses.22 Since 1929 the Party's policy has undergone many reversals; the great majority of delegates to the Sixteenth Congress who applauded the report on publishing strategy disappeared in the later purges. Even the structure of the Soviet publishing industry has been considerably altered. A complex network of publishing enterprises catering to special needs has come into existence. T h e range of their activities and the educational methods—overt or covert—employed by them vary. However, all of the Soviet publishing outlets have at all times shared a number of characteristics which are well summarized in a postwar Soviet study: In Soviet society a publishing house is either a state or a communal enterprise. It organizes its work in complete accord with the interests of the state and the people and is guided by the policy of the Communist Party. The central characteristics of Soviet publishing are ideological tendentiousness and political standards.23 ART AND COMMERCIALS

At the beginning of this chapter mention has been made of the "negative" method of using books as an educational tool, that is, preventing the potential reader from coming into contact with undesirable books. As has already been suggested, this measure, in order to be effective, must be accompanied by a simultaneous effort to provide the reader with "desirable" reading matter, with books that advance the goals of the authorities. There are several types of didactic literature (or radio, television, theater, cinema) that can be offered to the public. The techniques employed in the Soviet Union bear some similarity— mutatis mutandis—to those of the commercial, mass-communications media in the United States. In essence, there are three types of commercial. The first is the direct and unconcealed commercial, used in 22 Ibid; p. 63. 23 Nazarov, Ocherki istorii sovetskogo knigoizdatel'stva,

p. 60.

PUBLISHING A N D P U B L I C

OPINION

the West for the most part in connection with public-service campaigns, where the aim of the message is one that is likely to secure general approbation of the audience. T o this group belong the advertisements (or posters, or radio and television announcements) urging the public to drive carefully, to keep the city clean, or to prevent forest fires. T h e second is used when the public must be convinced of the benefits of the slogan. T h i s is the most widespread type of commercial. T h u s an attractive cartoon, ditty, or song may be used to persuade the public to buy a specific brand of a product in preference to others. T h e "message" is, so to speak, incorporated into "art," merged with it into a new entity. The third and most sophisticated variety of commercial is one in which art of unquestionable value is selected in a manner that would indirectly benefit the sponsor. For instance, a government tourist office may present a series of radio programs devoted to the folklore of its country or subsidize the appearances of a theatrical troupe acting in the language of that country. T h e r e are also the "good-will" and "prestige" programs designed to endear the sponsor in the eyes of the audience. Thus, for instance, a performance of Beethoven or Shakespeare may appear on television through the courtesy of a cigarette manufacturer, or selections from the Bible may be reproduced in a periodical with the benefactor's name appearing discreetly in a corner. In essence, ideological education by means of the printed word is accomplished in the Soviet Union by one of these three approaches. The direct and unconcealed approach can frequently be observed in the political editorials of the Soviet press, in the hundreds of millions of copies of propagandistic pamphlets, and in serious political literature. Even such "learned" fare as the classics of Marxism-Leninism—most of which are much too difficult for the untutored reader—have appeared on a scale unprecedented in the annals of political publishing: 1,000,000,000 copies between 1917 and 1951, in 101 languages. 24 Stalin's His24 Bol'shaia sovetskaia entsiklopediia, 2d ed., XXI (1953), 467. T h e total production of books in that period was 14,000,000,000 copies.

PUBLISHING AND PUBLIC OPINION

12

tory of the CPSU(B) alone appeared in 18,800,000 copies in 58 languages within the three years between 1938 and 1941.25 T h e second method, that of incorporating a political message into a work of art, is characteristic of modern Soviet fiction. T h e problem is a very complex one. It must suffice to repeat here that as a rule every work of Soviet literature is expected to contain a political thesis, a didactic conclusion easily discerned by the average reader. Furthermore, since the early postrevolutionary years, the Party has been "suggesting" timely themes and their treatment to Soviet writers. These "suggestions" have become more frequent and more forceful and, in the postwar years, have even been made by such authoritative figures as Zhdanov, Malenkov, and Khrushchev. All of these pronouncements share a common feature—they all regard the writer primarily as a molder of public opinion whose duty is to advance the Communist cause, much in the same manner as a journalist. T h e Party has never regarded the writer as an independent artist; a Soviet writer should be—as Stalin allegedly once p u t it—"an engineer of h u m a n souls." "LIQUIDATE" THE CLASSICS?

I n Vladimir Mayakovsky's Mystery-Bouffe, that dramatic vision of the approaching world revolution, the victorious forces of the world proletariat do away with all that has been identified with the "clean" aristocrats and bourgeois and start building the new world from its very foundations. I n the early postrevolutionary days Mayakovsky believed that the new society must make a fresh start in all domains of life—culture included. "We are shooting the old generalsl Why not Pushkin?" cried the ecstatic bard of the Revolution. Mayakovsky's radical demands found little support, and he repented his position rather quickly. As Ernest J. Simmons expressed it: However radical the leaders of the Revolution were about the need for political, social, and economic change, they were quite conservative in affairs of the arts. And for that matter, so were Marx and Engels who preferred the classical beauty of the art of 20 Ibid., XVII (1952), 383.

PUBLISHING AND P U B L I C

OPINION

13

slave-owning Greece or the Shakespearian plays of feudal England to the works of the progressive writers of their own day. Lenin had no pretensions to a knowledge of literature and was not particularly well read in it. He had a few favorites among the great Russian authors of the nineteenth century, and he shied away from innovation in literature with as much determination as he approved of it in political, social, and economic thought. Bukharin, Trotsky, Kamenev, and Lunacharskii were more interested in literature and evinced a certain sympathy for progressive trends in it, but their rather extensive literary culture had been formed by their admiration for the great works of the Russian and Western past.26 Actually, Mayakovsky's rhetorical question was based on a distortion of facts. N o t all of the old generals were shot during the Civil War. A n acute shortage of military specialists forced the Bolshevik commissars to employ some of the generals as lecturers in R e d A r m y academies. Similarly, the few hastily assembled agricultural communes could not feed the country, and for a time the regime was forced to encourage actively its enemies, the kulaks. In the domain of literature the enormous vacuum that would have been created by declaring the old masters unwelcome in the Soviet Republic could not have been filled by the handful of Russian authors w h o actively supported the new regime and who, with the exception of "the stormy petrel of the Revolution," Gorky, and Mayakovsky himself, consisted for the most part of dilettantes and literary bohemians. T h e New Economic Policy in industry, agriculture, and commerce was launched only after the extreme measures of the revolutionary enthusiasts had failed. W i t h regard to the old literary heritage there was never an outburst of class violence because its disastrous results were only too easy to envisage. Thus, had it even been possible to convince L e n i n and the other Communist leaders brought u p on the culture of old Russia that the citizens of the Soviet R e p u b l i c should not read the works of C o u n t L e o Tolstoy, of Dr. Chekhov, and of Pushkin, "the descendant"—as he called himself—"of ancient boyars," it is unlikely that Mayakovsky's appeal would have fallen on eager ears. "Shooting Pushkin" would, in effect, have sunk 26 Simmons, Continuity

and Change in Russian and Soviet Thought,

p . 454.

14

PUBLISHING AND P U B L I C

OPINION

Russia into a cultural Dark Age. This, in turn, would have been the opposite of one o£ the avowed—and sincere—Bolshevik aims, which was to redress the wrongs of the past, when, as Lenin said, the masses "were robbed of education, enlightenment, and knowledge."27 Indeed, while the Civil War was still in progress, under the leadership of Gorky and Α. V. Lunacharskii and with Lenin's approval, a number of research, publishing, theatrical, and musical projects—some of them of extremely ambitious dimensions—were inaugurated. The aim of these was twofold. One was to provide employment or, more specifically, to justify the distribution of bread rations among the old intelligentsia to keep them from starvation—much like the projects for artists and writers organized in the United States by the federal government during the depression. The other was "to open and make accessible to the toilers all the art treasures" that had been "created through the exploitation of their labor" and that up to that time had been "at the exclusive disposal of their exploiters." 28 T h e Communist leaders had, of course, hoped that with time the Revolution would create a proletarian culture of its own. For the time being, however, the masses were to be given access to the best of the old culture—in particular, literature. True, millions of them had first to learn how to read; but the literature was to be ready. T h e Russian classics were to receive a new lease on life. T h e decree on the State Publishing House of January 11, 1918, provided that: Cheap, popular editions of the Russian classics should be put on the top priority list. From among them the works on which copyright has expired should be republished. . . . The commission should take advantage of this right with regard to the titans of literature whose works will in accordance with this law become the property of the people. Popular editions of the classics should be sold at cost or, circumstances permitting, below cost, or even distributed free of charge through libraries servicing the toilers' democracy.29 27 Lenin, Sochineniia, 4th ed., X I X , 115. Quoted in Bol'shaia sovetskaia entsiklopediia, 2d ed., X X I (1953), 467. 28 Resolution of the Eighth Party Congress (March 18-23, 1919). Quoted in O partiinoi t sovetskoi pechati, p. 197. 2» Ibid., p. 174.

PUBLISHING A N D P U B L I C

OPINION

15

The State Publishing House obeyed the orders of the government. By 1923-24 approximately 85 percent of its output consisted of the Russian classics,30 while the Communist Party continued to "struggle in all possible ways against an immature and disdainful attitude toward the old cultural heritage." 31 In the years to follow, the Soviet masses were to lose most of their revolutionary gains, including the short-lived cultural freedom. But they have retained one gain promised during the Revolution—the promise to make available ample quantities of inexpensive editions of the Russian classics has been kept. With the qualifications that will be discussed in the subsequent chapters, it may be said that on the whole during the past forty years Russian classics have been readily available to the Soviet population. T H E CLASSICS AND T H E I R N E W

SPONSORS

However, culture divorced from politics and as an end in itself is alien to Communist mentality. "There is no form of art and science that is not connected with the great ideas of communism." This slogan, coined in the Civil War, was reaffirmed time and again in later years.32 It was therefore natural that the Soviet leaders should attempt to make political capital of their willingness to publish and disseminate widely the Russian classics. There were some historical precedents for this tapping of the didactic potential of works of fiction written in earlier periods. Old folklore, for example, was a powerful stimulant in the growth of nineteenth-century European nationalism. And Professor Gilbert Highet notes that the Jesuit schools, established largely to counteract the Protestant Reformation, "worked out a curriculum of the finest things in classic literature. . . . As the Jesuits themselves said, they used the classics as 'hooks to catch souls.' " 33 30 A. Voronskii, Iskusstvo i zhizn', p . 71. 31 T h e Central Committee's decree " O n P a r t y Policy i n the D o m a i n of BellesLettres," J u n e 18, 1928; O partiinoi i sovetskoi pechati, p . 345. 33 Resolution " O n Political P r o p a g a n d a a n d C u l t u r a l - E n l i g h t e n i n g W o r k i n the Countryside," a d o p t e d at the E i g h t h Party Congress, M a r c h 18-23, 1919; 0 partiinoi i sovetskoi pechati, p . 210. 33 Gilbert Highet, The Art of Teaching (New York: Vintage Books, 1954), p . 198.

ι6

PUBLISHING AND P U B L I C

OPINION

Some suggestions of the methods whereby Russian classics might be made useful to the Soviet regime are already discernible as early as the decree on the State Publishing House in 1918: The publication of their [prerevolutionary writers'] works is to be organized along two lines: Complete scholarly editions. The preparation of these is to be entrusted to the Russian Language and Literature Division of the Academy of Sciences (after its democratization in accordance with Russia's new political and social system). Condensed editions of selected works. Such anthologies should comprise one compact volume. In making the selection, the editors should be guided, in addition to other considerations, by the degree of closeness of individual works to the working people for whom these popular editions are destined. The entire anthology, as well as individual works of particular importance, should be supplied with forewords by noted critics, literary historians, and so forth. A special commission of representatives of educational, literary, and learned societies, as well as of specially invited experts and delegates of workers' organizations, is to be organized for the purpose of editing these popular editions. This editorial-administrative commission is to receive publication plans and commentaries of all kinds from editors who have been approved by this commission.34 T h e reference to the "closeness of individual works to the working people" was obviously meant as a reservation that not all of the Russian classics were to be accorded equal treatment. It foretold their division into favorite sons and stepchildren. It established political tendentiousness as a leading criterion in determining whether prerevolutionary novels, plays, poems, and dramas were to be disseminated among the masses of readers or be condemned to oblivion. T h e application of this principle was soon evident in the publishing statistics. T h e centennials of the birth of the "progressive" Nikolai Nekrasov and the "reactionary" Dostoyevsky, both in 1921, offered the Soviet authorities a good opportunity to demonstrate that not all of the classics should be cherished equally. Nekrasov's was celebrated on a grand scale under the patronage of the authorities; Dostoyevsky's passed almost unnoticed except among literary circles. With the exception of 34

O partiinoi i sovetskoi pechati, p. 174. Italics added.

PUBLISHING AND P U B L I C

OPINION

17

writers like Pushkin and Gogol, who had long ago become national institutions and weathered many political changes, prerevolutionary literature was divided into these two groups. With time the picture became clearer. T h e favorite sons, in addition to Nekrasov, included M. E. Saltykov-Shchedrin, Chekhov, and Turgenev; the stepchildren, besides Dostoyevsky, were N. S. Leskov, Tiutchev, A. A. Fet, and Sergei Aksakov. As a postwar Soviet survey summarized it, By republishing the old books, by selecting the best from the prerevolutionary book treasures, the victorious proletariat has demonstrated in practice that it does not renounce the great heritage of the past, but that it includes it in the arsenal of its struggle for the socialist cause.35 The classics could not be used in lieu of the straightforward literary "commercial" referred to earlier in this chapter, because they were not written to order for the Soviet authorities. T o a degree, they could be useful whenever their contents would encourage the reader to form general opinions that benefited the Soviet regime—for example, that capitalism is evil in nature, that future happiness and prosperity justify temporary hardships. But prerevolutionary literature lent itself most readily to the type of presentation practiced by American radio, television, and periodicals. T h e sponsor whose courtesy made the appearance of the works possible took the opportunity to advertise his wares. A resolution of the Eighth Party Congress (March 18-23, 1919) recommended that all communications media, including books, be utilized for Communist propaganda both directly, that is, through their contents, and by combining them with lectures and meetings. . . . It is desirable that such readings [of government decrees and Communist Party resolutions] be accompanied by the showing of movies and slides, by the reading of belles-lettres, and by variety shows so as to attract larger audiences.38 36 Nazarov, Ocherki istorii sovetskogo knigohdatel'stva, p. 87. 86 0 partiinoi i sovetskoi pechati, pp. 209-10. In the first years of the regime the Commissariat of Education "exhibited films of literary classics obtained by confiscating the film collection of a liberal prerevolutionary educational society. The films were shown to the workers at no charge, but to the accompaniment of 'agitation' speeches by the representatives of Narkompros and the Petrograd Committee of the Russian Communist Party" (Paul Babitsky and John D. Rimberg, The Soviet Film Industry [New York: Frederick A. Praeger, 1955], p. 5).

l8

PUBLISHING AND PUBLIC OPINION A MESSAGE FROM THE SPONSOR

As has been mentioned earlier, the traditional Russian method of mobilizing literature for a political cause took the form of a kind of literary criticism that was invariably more concerned with politics than with esthetics. The tradition has been continued in the Soviet Union, where such criticism is written for every class of readers—from semiliterates to scholars; it can either appear separately or else be incorporated in the editions of various types that are discussed in this study. In the school system this politically oriented criticism forms the core of courses of literature; as early as 1919 a resolution of the Eighth Party Congress declared that "teachers should regard themselves as agents of not only general but political enlightenment as well." 37 For independent reading this criticism is provided, along with the numerous studies brought out separately, in the form of the forewords, postscripts, biographies, footnotes, and commentaries with which most of the editions of the Russian classics are supplied. They are the literary equivalents of the political commissars who supervised the lectures of the old generals in the Soviet military academies; they are the Soviet ideological "commercials" which precede, follow, or interrupt the narrative of the non-Soviet author with words of praise, disapproval, warning, or explanation. Whenever the aim is to claim precedent in the past for policies of the present, the critical studies appended to editions of the classics draw explicit or suggest implicit parallels. In other cases they contrast some of the negative phenomena of bygone years with the advances made under the "wise leadership" of the Communist Party. 38 A report at the 1929 All-Union Congress of Soviets admonished the country's publishing apparatus: We must adopt a critical attitude toward the heritage bequeathed to us by the classics. We must select among their works, provide 87 O partiinoi i sovetskoi pechati, p. 209. 38 In Nazi Germany a similar effort was made to prove the closeness of Fascist ideology to the classics of German literature. The titles of two monographs are eloquent in themselves: "Schiller as Hitler's Comrade-in-Arms: National Socialism in Schiller's Drama" and "Goethe's Mission to the Third Reich." See H. G. Atkins, German Literature through Nazi Eyes (London: Methuen & Co., 1941).

PUBLISHING AND PUBLIC OPINION

!9

the necessary annotations, the necessary Marxist forewords and commentaries, so as to assist the contemporary working-class reader in extracting from the classic heritage only that which is valuable to our epoch. This work will now be expanded with the intensified publication of the classics.39 The foreword-writing activities were indeed greatly expanded in the years to follow. 39 Lunacharskii and Khalatov, Voprosy kul'turnogo

stroitel'stva RSFSR, p. 89.

II The Early Publishing Fate of the Classics There is a certain affinity between the fatalism often expressed in Russian proverbs and the "historical determinism" of certain Soviet clichés. One of the most frequently used clichés in Soviet writings and rhetoric is: "It is no mere accident." There can be no doubt that sooner or later the Russian classics would have been declared the property of the Soviet state. But the time and manner in which this was accomplished seem to have been in a large measure a mere accident. At least so it appears if we judge from an article, published in 1927, by the veteran Bolshevik literary critic Valerian Polianskii. 1 Polianskii takes credit for the proposal to nationalize the Russian classics. When he explained the proposal to Lenin, the latter agreed: "Not a bad idea, and the printing shops won't stay idle." Soon thereafter a committee was formed to discuss the problem. The majority of its members belonged to the old liberal intelligentsia. These men vigorously opposed the measure; they feared, it seems, that any sort of monopoly in publishing would result in the abridgment of freedom in literary scholarship and would also have an adverse effect on the publication of the classics themselves. After much discussion, the committee reluctantly agreed to vote in favor of the proposal, with the understanding that the Russian classics were to be "monopolized" by the state for a period of five years only, that is, from 1918 to 1923, and that, after the expiration of the ι Valerian Polianskii, "Nachalo sovetskikh izdatel'stv," pp. 233-40.

EARLY P U B L I S H I N G O F T H E

CLASSICS

21

decree, the entire problem of the Russian classics was to be reexamined. The list of the fifty-seven authors whose works were declared the exclusive property of the state is reproduced in T a b l e 12 in Appendix D. T h e list included a large n u m b e r of soon-to-beforgotten, nineteenth-century radical authors of both fiction and nonfiction, b u t it failed to include a n u m b e r of names one would have expected to see in such a compilation. Thus, it omitted such first-rate writers as Tiutchev and Leskov, failed to include several founding fathers of Russian letters, (for example, M. V. Lomonosov, G. R. Derzhavin, N. M. Karamzin), and disregarded some rather well-known poets (for example, W. H . Küchelbecker, A. I. Odoevskii). Polianskii recalls that the list was drawn u p in a hurry. Members of the committee drifted to and from the room; certain writers were included on the list by a small majority of votes; others were similarly disqualified. One committee member, for example, insisted that P. I. Mel'nikov-Pecherskii be stricken from the list because of his reactionary politics b u t voted to include the equally reactionary Fet because of his poetic merits. T h e carelessness on the part of the committee members is further illustrated by their failure to declare a monopoly on such accusers of the old regime as D. N . Mamin-Sibiriak and Α. V. Sukhovo-Kobylin. On January 11, 1918, barely two months after the coup d'état, the Council of People's Commissars declared the publication of the Russian classics a monopoly of the state. One wonders what the primary motives were for the "nationalization" of the classics. T h e r e was, in the first place, the admitted desire to give them wide distribution among the people, and it was felt perhaps that this would be accomplished most successfully by the government's publishing apparatus. It is also possible that the works of the masters of literature of the past were considered national property and therefore subject to administration by agencies similar to those which r u n national galleries, museums, and archives. 2 T h e n there was, 2 Certain of the national archives containing manuscripts of the Russian clas* sics are under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Internal Affairs (MVD), which.

22

EARLY PUBLISHING OF THE CLASSICS

of course, the reason of financial gain—publication of mass editions of the classics can be a very profitable venture—and the aforementioned article by Polianskii indicated that in 1918, that is, the first year after the decree, the classics brought a profit of 9,000,000 rubles, which was 50 percent of the original investment. Indeed, in the West, such steady sellers as the literary classics are frequently the main source of revenue in book publishing. And, finally, an important motivation may have been the desire to control the publication of the classics in order to prevent the appearance of those that might be harmful to the Communist state and to promote the dissemination of those advancing the aims of the regime. 3 Whatever the reasons for the decree might have been, the state's monopoly of the publication of the Russian classics was not strictly enforced. Whether this laxity was accidental or planned—the state could have granted "concessions" to privately owned enterprises, a procedure quite common during the years of the New Economic Policy (NEP)—cannot be ascertained. Before the abandonment of the NEP (1929), Soviet readers and buyers of books could influence publishers to bring out specific authors and titles by indicating their willingness to buy specific types of literature. This was possible because during the period from 1918 to 1929 there were in the Soviet Union hundreds of privately owned publishing houses that operated on the principle of supply and demand, subject only to an outright veto on the part of the Soviet censorship. As a postwar historian of Soviet publishing put it: It can be said that the first period in the life of the Soviet Republic was a period of coexistence of two publishing systems—the old bourgeois system, on the verge of death but still fighting for its in addition to its better-known activities, also carries out the tasks normally assigned to a ministry of internal affairs. According to Professor William Edgerton of Indiana University, the Central State Literary Archive (TsGLA) is under the MVD. 3 Although it is true that the Chinese classics differ from the Russian in many respects, including political implications, it is nevertheless interesting to note that in Communist China the privately owned publishing houses are "instructed to reproduce only the Chinese classics and to publish only linguistic studies" (Franklin W. Houn and Yuan-li Wu, "Chinese Communist Publication Policy and Thought Control." The Pacific Spectator, X, No. 3 [Summer, 1956], 285).

EARLY PUBLISHING OF T H E CLASSICS

23

existence, and the young, newly born Soviet publishing system. The two systems waged an embittered struggle, sometimes hidden, at other times in the open. Centuries of experience and hosts of trained specialists were the assets of bourgeois publishers. The Soviet publishing houses lacked both experience and properly trained personnel, but they had on their side the sympathies of a victorious people, the unfailing support of the Workers' and Peasants' regime, the leadership of the party of Lenin and Stalin, a high degree of ideological maturity, political tendentiousness, and the fervor of revolutionary enthusiasm.4 It is, of course, highly debatable whether the "victorious people's" sympathies were so overwhelmingly in favor of the state-sponsored publishing system. But there can be no quarrel with the Soviet historian on the point that the regime and the party of Lenin and Stalin threw their weight behind it. As a result, the era of more or less peaceful coexistence of the bourgeois and Soviet publishing systems did not last very long. By the beginning of the First Five-Year Plan, or approximately by 1930, "privately owned publishing houses were, on the whole, liquidated." 5 T h e Soviet term "liquidated" appears to be the proper word to describe their fate. T h e number of such enterprises was not inconsiderable, and therefore it is only reasonable to assume that they did not all die from commercial failure. T h e following statistics are supplied by the postwar Soviet history of publishing: β Date January I, 192S January 1, 1924 January 1, 1925 In 1927

Total number of publishing houses 678 1,127 2,055 no data

Number privately owned 233 442 431 no data

Percent privately owned 30 39 20 10

Actually, the number of privately managed publishing houses was even larger: a significant percentage of enterprises which claimed the status of cooperatives—the authorities, of course, favored cooperatives over individually owned firms—were "also bourgeois." 7 Although the privately owned publishing houses brought out * Nazarov, Ocherki istorii sovetskogo knigoizdatel'stva, p. 84. 6 Ibid., p. 158. β Ibid., p. 115. 11bid., pp. 82-83.

24

EARLY PUBLISHING

OF T H E

CLASSICS

chiefly works that were not published by state-owned enterprises, such as contemporary literature, translations of Western authors, and even, on occasion, works by émigré Russian authors, 8 statistics cited in Tables 17 and 23 in Appendix D indicate that the number of Russian classics they published was not inconsiderable. According to our compilations, individual editions of the classics were brought out between 1918 and 1929 by thirtyeight privately owned firms. Of these, a few brought out only one or two works by a nineteenth-century Russian author. But there were others that produced many titles and even developed specialties. G. F. Mirimanov published, it seems, only for children. Its output consisted mostly of the fairy tales of MaminSibiriak, a "nonnationalized" writer; but there were also short stories by Chekhov and excerpts from V. G. Korolenko and Turgenev. I. D. Sytin also catered to children, but here the stress was on Tolstoy's fairy tales and I. A. Krylov's fables. Young Russia (Iunaia Rossiia) and the Moscow Book Publishing House (Moskovskoe knigoizdatel'stvo) brought out both Tolstoy and Mamin-Sibiriak. Teatral, as the name indicates, published drama. It printed small editions (one to five thousand copies) of plays by A. N. Ostrovskii, Chekhov, Turgenev, A. S. Griboedov, Pushkin, and Tolstoy and stage adaptations of Dostoyevsky. Two privately owned publishing houses specialized in particular authors. I. Glazunov printed exclusively the works of Turgenev (all in all 13 titles, a total of 276,000 copies), while the Intermediary (Posrednik), a venture launched before the Revolution by a group of Tolstoy's friends and admirers, continued to bring out, long after 1917, cheap editions of individual works of the master, for the most part his religiousmoralistic writings—45 titles with 365,000 copies out of a total of 52 entries and some 450,000 copies. The "cold war" between the state-sponsored and the pri8 Several instances of such unusual "cultural exchange"—Russian émigré authors were published in the USSR and Soviet writers' works were printed by émigré Russian publishers in Western Europe—are mentioned in Gleb Struve, Russkaia literatura ν tignanti (Russian Literature in Exile) (New York: Izdatel'stvo imeni Chekhova, 1955), passim.

EARLY PUBLISHING OF THE CLASSICS

25

vately owned publishing enterprises, which was referred to earlier, was manifested, first of all, in the selection of titles brought out by the two sectors. T h e state publishing firms tended in those years to stress works with prominent antitsarist or anticapitalist bias. Commercial publishers, on the contrary, printed politically "neutral" classics, such as fairy tales and lyric poetry. T h e only ideologically militant privately owned publishing enterprise was the Intermediary, which was devoted largely to the publication of Tolstoy's works. In Tolstoy's lifetime his Christian anarchism brought upon him the wrath of the tsarist government and ultimately resulted also in his excommunication by the Russian Orthodox Church; his followers were persecuted, and many of his works were banned. In the eyes of the world Tolstoy was a revolutionary—very much like Gandhi a few decades later. In the early years of the Bolshevik rule ideological deviations were not so severely suppressed as they were in the later years of Communist orthodoxy. It mattered little that the revolution preached by Tolstoy was based on the Gospels and the doctrine of nonresistance to evil, and that the sage of Yasnaya Polyana also demanded of his contemporaries brotherly love, vegetarianism, and strict sexual morality—none of which was characteristic of the early period of the Communist regime. At that time, however, the as yet weak Soviet authorities welcomed help from all enemies of the old regime, and Tolstoy—who had died but a decade earlier—was still a very powerful ally, and his pamphlets were still eagerly read by millions of Russians. As the Russia of the tsars became a thing of the past in the minds of the Soviet population and as the Communist regime and its own state apparatus became consolidated, Tolstoy's denunciation of all violence and any authority could only bring harm to Soviet Russia's government. By the mid-1920s the Intermediary ceased publishing Tolstoy's pamphlets, although the firm itself (probably under government auspices) existed as late as 1934; it brought out in that year two works of Korolenko. All the other privately owned publishing houses had been "liquidated" a few years before. Whether this was accomplished by a simple seizure of

26

EARLY PUBLISHING OF THE CLASSICS

their offices and printing plants or by discriminatory taxation is of little importance. Having to make a profit in order to survive, the nongovernmental commercial publishers served the Soviet public by making available those works for which there was a genuine demand, and they published a wide variety of titles. After the disappearance of privately owned publishing enterprises the Soviet reader was left totally at the mercy of the state publishing apparatus. Except for the old books in private and public libraries and books bought semilegally from second-hand book dealers, during the last thirty years Soviet readers have had access only to books the state wants them to read or, at best, finds inoffensive. Soviet citizens are not forced to read these particular books. They can take them or leave them. But they have no opportunity, as readers do throughout the non-totalitarian world, to affect the selection and supply in the bookstores and libraries by simply manifesting demand. As for the nationalization of the Russian classics being "temporary," it was never reviewed, as the authorities had promised in 1918. On the contrary, with the disappearance of all privately owned publishing in the 1920s, the problem became purely academic. At present the Russian classics, like all other books in the USSR, are published only by government-controlled enterprises.

III Publication of the Russian Classics by Government-Owned Firms There is convincing evidence that in the early postrevolutionary years Soviet leaders, while hopeful of creating in the future a new proletarian literature, made a sincere effort to bring to the Russian masses the best of the nation's literary heritage. The fact that the Soviet authorities even permitted the organization of a large number of nongovernmental publishing houses— in spite of their deep distrust of all privately owned printing—is one of the points in favor of this belief. T h e mushrooming growth of the theaters—not a few among them under non-Communist control—is another. And finally, eloquent testimony to this effort is to be found in the publication lists printed in Book Annals.

The task of bringing to the masses the great works of Russian literature was hindered by several circumstances. Printing facilities had been badly damaged and paper supplies thinned by the World War and the Civil War. In addition, available presses and supplies were heavily taxed by government agencies, which required the immediate publication of leaflets and pamphlets. Then, too, the great bulk of the population, workers and peasants, were only beginning to learn how to read and were presumably struggling over every syllable. For many years to come these factors continued to affect the publication of the Russian classics. Within a decade and a half, millions of illiterates had learned the alphabet, but they had not become educated men and women. Similarly, while paper supplies became more plentiful and printing facilities more ex-

28

PUBLICATION BY GOVERNMENT FIRMS

tensive, the demands imposed on them by the Party and the government more than kept pace with the growth. The mass printing of political and professional literature, of textbooks and modern Soviet writing, continued to limit the amount of paper and labor that could be diverted for the publication of the Russian classics. The shortage of paper, no doubt, contributed also to the fact that in the first twenty-five years of Soviet publishing, the majority of the reissues of the classics consisted of thin booklets made u p of a single short story or a poem. Anna Karenina and War and Peace, to cite two examples, were among Tolstoy's least printed works. One of the reasons, it seems, was that the paper needed for a single copy of War and Peace would suffice to print two hundred copies of one of Tolstoy's short stories. The latter choice was therefore preferable when the government's policy was to bring great literature to the largest numbers of readers. This also appears to have been one of the reasons for the huge printings of Chekhov, Mamin-Sibiriak, Pushkin, and Krylov—many of their works could be issued in pamphlets of only several pages in length. T o cite another example, the most frequently published work of Turgenev, apart from his short stories, was Sportsman's Sketches. One explanation, no doubt, was the fact that each section of the work constitutes an independent story and could therefore be printed as a separate booklet. By publishing these, the authorities could bring at least some works of Turgenev to millions of readers. Had they decided instead to publish Turgenev's longer novels, the publishing resources at their disposal would of necessity have limited the number of potential readers of Turgenev to thousands. T h e character of the reading public would also suggest the wisdom of the first course. Persons not addicted to reading are usually very reluctant to embark on the strenuous adventure of reading a long novel but are more likely to try a short story. In addition, one must not overlook monetary considerations. Readers among the working class and the peasants would have required considerable persuasion to part with several rubles,

PUBLICATION BY GOVERNMENT FIRMS

29

the price of a full-size book, b u t they may have had fewer qualms over a few kopeks. In fact, the greater part of the reissues of the Russian classics between 1917 and 1941 bore some resemblance to American and Western European juvenile editions. These Soviet booklets, in addition to their compactness and inexpensive prices, were also characterized by large print, illustrations, and —most important—"juvenile" contents. T h e criterion that seems to have been followed in most cases by the Soviet publishing authorities in their selection of the Russian classics for popular editions was that the work should be easy to understand and as interesting to read as possible. Statistics in Tables 18-22 in Appendix D reveal that the assortment of titles brought out by the State Publishing House and other enterprises catering to an adult audience included a disproportionate number of copies of works that are usually identified as children's favorites, works with swift-moving plots and with a captivating "story." T o mention a few: Pushkin's fairy tales in verse and Dubrovskii, a Walter Scott-like novella; Chekhov's "Kashtanka" and "A Dog with a White Mark," two charming stories about canine nature; the tales of Leo Tolstoy; the "Ukrainian" stories of Gogol; the prose works of M. l u . Lermontov set in the Caucasus—to a Russian, an exotic locale; and the witty, moralizing fables of Krylov. Longer works, those in which the "mood" plays a greater role than action, works which exert some strain on the reader's intellect, such as the great novels of Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky, the later plays of Chekhov, the more esoteric lyrics of Pushkin, Lermontov, Fet, and Tiutchev, were rarely published separately, and then only in small editions—although in the case of Fet and Tiutchev, as well as Dostoyevsky, it is more than likely that the writers' politics had something to do with this neglect. Since the Second World W a r the ratio of thin booklets to full-size books has noticeably declined. Instead of single short stories and poems there are more printings of anthologies; there have also been many separate reissues of such long works

3o

PUBLICATION

BY GOVERNMENT FIRMS

as Anna Karenina and War and Peace. In addition, many forms of literature hitherto neglected, such as the lyrics mentioned above, have been brought out in many millions of copies. Paper supplies and printing facilities have greatly expanded, and the Soviet reading public has grown to be more sophisticated. It now clamors for more serious and varied reading fare. It appears that the Soviet government's monopolistic publishing network does make an effort to please the public's craving for specific books, provided the authorities consider these works desirable or, at least, harmless reading. Let us assume, for example, that the publishing firms have printed eight different works by Pushkin. If the sales in book stores and reports from libraries indicate a pronounced preference for one particular work, it is likely that the next printing of this Pushkin item will be larger in relation to the others. But there is no assurance that the state's publishing authorities will necessarily oblige. Because of the absence of competitors, Soviet publishers are in a position to refuse to make available some of the "bad" books, offer only limited supplies of others, and promote the sales of "desirable" books. T h e most obvious examples, of course, are to be found in the fields of political theory and social science, where lines of division are most clearly defined. These, however, are outside the scope of this study. Besides, there is no dearth of similar instances in the publication of Russian classics. No works by prerevolutionary Russian writers have been proscribed by an official decree, but a number of them have been unofficially banished from public view, for new editions have not been printed. And to make this ban more effective, it appears that references to such works are removed from public catalogues in the libraries. T h e y are to be found only in the catalogues restricted to use by library personnel. T h e inquisitive reader thus runs a certain risk in requesting such books. T o cite a few examples: A. F. Pisemskii's "reactionary" novel, Troubled Seas, has never been published in the Soviet Union; nor have certain undesirable works of I. S. Nikitin, at least one "monarchist" poem of Α. V. Kol'tsov, and many writings

PUBLICATION

BY GOVERNMENT

FIRMS

31

of Mel'nikov-Pecherskii that describe the life of religious sectarians. 1 Leskov's antiradical novel Cathedral Folk appeared for the first time in the eleven-volume edition of his works launched in 1956 on the one hundred and twenty-fifth anniversary of the writer's birth. In spite of Maxim Gorky's enthusiasm for the novel—the officially proclaimed father of Soviet literature had called it a "splendid book"—Cathedral Folk had not been published for nearly forty years. T o judge by the number of copies of his works brought out in the USSR, Dostoyevsky occupied, between 1917 and 1941, fifteenth place among the Russian classics. He was surpassed by such second-rate writers as G. I. Uspenskii, Korolenko, and Mamin-Sibiriak. Dostoyevsky's politically most undesirable works have fared even worse. The Possessed and Notes from the Underground have appeared only twice—in the complete edition of his writings, of which only several thousand sets were printed in the 1920s, and in the new multivolume edition inaugurated in 1956 on the seventy-fifth anniversary of his death. As far as can be ascertained, The Brothers Karamazov was published as a separate book only once—a mere 15,000 copies in the 1930s. Can one say with confidence that ail of these works were not published because there was no demand for them? T h e fact that the 1956 editions of Leskov and Dostoyevsky were both launched in 300,000 copies per volume indicates the Soviet authorities' awareness that the demand existed and probably had existed for a long time. But the monopolistic Soviet publishers had withheld these works from the public for decades. T h e cases of Fet and of Tiutchev, two of Russia's finest poets, have been referred to earlier. No works of Fet were published separately in the first fifteen years of Soviet rule, and 1A charming example of such selective exclusion was admitted in a postscript to an anthology of an early romantic poet brought out at the height of the postStalin "thaw": " T h e present edition includes almost all of Batiushkov's poetry. T h e only poems that were not included are his early poem 'God,' which is a feeble imitation of the then fashionable spiritual odes, and the poems written during the poet's mental illness." See Κ. N. Baliushkov, Sochineniia (Works) (Moscow: Goslitizdat, 1955), p. 409.

32

PUBLICATION BY GOVERNMENT FIRMS

Tiutchev appeared in very small editions. The situation has improved somewhat since the Second World War, particularly since Stalin's death; but their poetry is still at the very bottom o£ publication lists of prerevolutionary authors. Does this reflect faithfully the public's demand for their works? There are reasons for doubt. Free to restrict the availability of certain books and stop the printing of others altogether, monopolistic Soviet publishers can effect an artificial and sharp increase in the public's demand for substitute reading. The closer the character and quality of the substitute to the book that cannot be obtained, the better are the prospects of channeling the unsatisfied demand for the unavailable products to the substitute. A Soviet customer in a bookstore or a reader in a library who cannot obtain a copy of The Brothers Karamazov is likely to ask, as a second choice, for other works of Dostoyevsky. Indeed, readers and buyers frequently request books by naming their favorite authors, rather than specific titles. In case of disappointment, the customer may request—or else the librarian or the bookseller may recommend—the "closest" substitute title or author available. The present writer's study of reading habits of several hundred former Soviet citizens indicates that the categories in which the respondents thought were, first of all, specific titles, then authors, and then "Soviet literature" (as opposed to "Russian classics"). T h e division never followed the pattern of genres, literary merits, or stylistic peculiarities that would unite all of literature in the Russian language, both old and new, into a single entity. Official Soviet sources do not customarily admit the existence of political motivation in the selection of the Russian classics. The only major motivation, these authorities would have us believe, is the public's demand for specific authors and titles. It is true, of course, that the popularity of individual writers and works with the reading public is not immutable and is subject to periodic change. Frequently, however, the selection of authors and titles made available to the public betrays the influence of Party policy. In the absence of official Soviet confirmation, the reasons suggested below as the government's possible motivation in a number of instances of "favoritism"

PUBLICATION BY GOVERNMENT FIRMS

33

in the publication of the Russian classics are of necessity only hypotheses. But then, such hypotheses are unavoidable in any study of Soviet policies. Reference was made in Chapter I to the 1918 decree on the State Publishing House that established political tendentiousness as a factor in the selection of Russian classics for publication. The political bias that was to become characteristic of Soviet publishing in the later years was already foretold in a symbolic manner in 1917-18. The first reissue of a Russian classic brought out under the auspices of Soviet authorities was a short anthology of Nekrasov, the bard of the oppressed peasantry in Imperial Russia, the poet who, in his own words, was inspired by the "muse of sadness and vengeance." T h e first multivolume edition sponsored by the Soviet government was that of Saltykov-Shchedrin, the merciless satirist of the old regime. Nekrasov and Saltykov-Shchedrin have both remained high on the best-seller list—or, more precisely, "most-printed" list, since sales of the Russian classics in the USSR, in the final analysis, are more related to supply than to demand. Turgenev also ranked high on the list until the mid-1930s; he fell behind significantly on the eve of the Second World War. Among his works the largest printings were attained by selections from the Sportsman's Sketches. It should not be forgotten that there was a time when this book was considered politically explosive, like Harriet Beecher Stowe's Uncle Tom's Cabin. In this series of tales Turgenev depicted with much warmth the peasants of the era of serfdom. But for many years the single most widely reprinted work of Turgenev was the short story "Mumu." It ranked first on the list in 1923-29 and second in 1930-33, while in 1934-37 it accounted for over one third of all reprints of Turgenev: 1,101,000 copies out of a total of 3,194,000. "Mumu" is a tale that evokes pity for the peasant and hatred for the landlords; it describes a cruel mistress who orders a mute serf to drown a dog, his only friend. The works of Uspenskii, a much lesser talent than Turgenev, describe the destitute and oppressed Russian villagers. Uspenskii ranked high on the publication lists in the 1920s, when he was well ahead of such masters as Gogol and Lermontov;

54

PUBLICATION BY GOVERNMENT FIRMS

but even much later he outdistanced Dostoyevsky. Uspenskii's works are still being reprinted in hundreds of thousands of copies. Korolenko, also a second-rate writer, died in 1921, a bitter and open foe of the Bolsheviks. Yet he was destined to become one of the most widely printed authors in the Soviet Union. Makar's Dream, a novella, has been one of his most frequently reprinted works; it has appeared in millions of copies. Makar's Dream tells of a Yakut hunter who freezes to death in a Siberian forest. Facing the Lord in Heaven, the downtrodden, half-pagan Yakut declares that his hard life made it impossible for him to observe God's commandments. Korolenko implies that the exploited and illiterate pagan was in reality morally superior to well-fed nominal Christians. Polikushka and After the Ball were among Tolstoy's most widely reprinted works during the period from the Revolution to the Second World War. T h e first constituted the largest single item among editions of Tolstoy in 1938-41, and the latter headed the list for 1930-33. Polikushka is the famous story of the serf who is driven to suicide by poverty, drunkenness, and fear of his landlady; the peasant's wife goes insane. In After the Ball Tolstoy exposes the hypocrisy of the upper classes. A gay and charming colonel changes within a few hours after the ball into an inhumanly cruel executioner; a soldier is beaten to death for attempting to escape from the army. Chekhov's plays have never been as popular with Russian readers as his short stories. However, the selection of short stories made available in the 1920s and 1930s betrays certain preferences that may have been dictated by the tastes of the publishing authorities rather than those of the reading public. "Van'ka" and "Sleepy" were the most frequently published. In 1930-33, for example, the two tales accounted for 400,000 copies out of a total of 1,554,000 of all the entries for Chekhov. In 1934-37 the 550,000 copies of "Van'ka" alone constituted the largest item on the list of Chekhov's works. "Van'ka" is a story of an orphan boy, mistreated by the shoemaker who was to have taught him the trade; the boy appeals for help to his grandfather, his only relative, but in his naïveté addresses the letter

PUBLICATION BY GOVERNMENT FIRMS

35

to "grandpa, in the country," and drops it in the mailbox. "Sleepy" is about an adolescent servant girl who rocks a baby night after night to keep it from crying. T h e infant refuses to sleep, while the girl cannot keep her eyes open. Exhausted and desperate, she smothers the baby. Other most frequently reprinted short stories of Chekhov in separate editions included "The Chameleon," " T h e Criminal," "Sergeant Prishibeev," "Women," and "Peasants." It is a sad picture of Russia that emerges from these tales—a picture of ignorance, poverty, prejudice, and suspicion. The examples cited above demonstrate that during the first two decades of Soviet rule the public was supplied with generous amounts of ideologically "neutral" reading matter. However, the authorities missed few opportunities to center the readers' attention on the more "useful" among the classics. T h e "useful" works were those which informed the Soviet reader that life before the October Revolution was characterized by misery, superstition, and social injustice; works which indirectly suggested to the Soviet reader that life in the USSR was a great improvement over the one endured by his father and grandfather; works which contributed to the strengthening of the reader's allegiance to the Soviet Union. A number of anthologies of poetry were supplied by the Communist editors with titles that in themselves indicate the impression these books were expected to make on the Soviet reader: the one comprising poems by Kol'tsov was called Village Misery, while those of the poetry of Nekrasov bore the titles A Woman's Lot, Songs about Landlords, Officials, and Kulaks, Songs about the Slavish Life of the Past, Songs about Serfdom, Songs about the Village and the Village Poor, and Songs of Struggle and Freedom. In the late 1930s with a new war becoming imminent, the tenor of Soviet propaganda underwent a gradual change. In an effort to unite the country for the impending danger, the appeal to the population's class-consciousness was slowly replaced by the theme of patriotism and pride in Russia's past. The atmosphere of anxiety was eloquently illustrated by the selection of Krylov's fables that appeared on the eve of the

36

PUBLICATION BY GOVERNMENT FIRMS

Second World War. All in all, there were twenty-seven reissues of these fables, a total of 3,035,000 copies. Of these, 2,000,000 copies were accounted for by three printings of a booklet— a leaflet would be a more precise term—comprising two fables, " T h e Dragonfly and the Ant" (Strekoza i muravei) and "The Elephant and the Doggy" (Sion i mos'ka). The two million copies appeared in 1938 and 1939, just before the Hitler-Stalin pact. The application of these fables to current events seems obvious. The first warned Soviet citizenry to prepare for the emergencies of war, lest they find themselves in the position of Krylov's dragonfly, which was doomed to death at the end of the summer, since—unlike the wise ant—it was not ready for a rainy day. At the same time, the second fable implied that Soviet citizens need not despair, that the situation was not altogether hopeless. Just as the loud barking of Krylov's doggy could not possibly scare the huge and peace-loving elephant, so the saber-rattling of the "mad fascist dog," Hitler, would not intimidate the large and powerful land of the Soviets. A new emphasis on romantic and military themes was to be discerned in the selection of the Russian classics on the eve of the Second World War. In the list of the works of Pushkin this was manifested by two large editions of "Poltava," the poem about the victory of Peter the Great over the Swedes (150,000 copies), and by the large printing (100,000 copies) of his Tale of O leg the Wise, which is based on the legend of the heroic Kievan prince's death. It is noteworthy that this was the first separate Soviet edition of the Tale. Other works published for the first time as separates were I. A. Goncharov's Frigate "Pallas," an account of a voyage to the Far East on a vessel of the Imperial Russian Navy; A. K. Tolstoy's historical trilogy [Death of Ivan the Terrible, Tsar Fëdor Ioannovich and Tsar Boris)·, and 50,000 copies of Radishchev's heroic poetry. In earlier years Radishchev had been represented exclusively by his Journey from Petersburg to Moscow, which denounced tsarist autocracy and serfdom. Taras Bul'ba, the staunchly patriotic tale of the CossackPolish wars, moved toward the top of the Gogol list in terms of the number of copies published.

PUBLICATION BY GOVERNMENT FIRMS

37

Lermontov, hitherto comparatively neglected—he was thirteenth on the "best-seller" list in 1917-29, eleventh in 1930-33, and eighth in 1934-37—suddenly moved up, on the eve of the Second World War, to be second only to Tolstoy. T o be sure, this was partly owing to the approaching centennial of his death in 1941, and perhaps also to the public's demand for more serious poetry. Nevertheless there can be little doubt that the revival of Lermontov was greatly favored by the heroic and patriotic character of much of his verse. T h e largest item on the list of Lermontov's works published on the eve of the war was the Song of Tsar Ivan Vasil'evich the Terrible (590,000 copies); there were also several reissues (a total of 277,000 copies) of Mtsyri, the poem about a novice who chose death to loss of freedom. The selection of Tolstoy's works also reflected the new spirit of the time. T h e r e were more reissues of War and Peace, Khadzhi Murat, and Tales of Sevastopol. T w o printings of the last title were brought out in 1939 by the Military Publishing House. On June 22, 1941, Germany attacked the Soviet Union. Soviet armies suffered one defeat after another, and the Communist leadership feverishly tried to reorganize all areas of the state's life to cope with the critical situation. T h e swiftness of the government's actions is also reflected in the data on the publication of the Russian classics. W i t h i n three weeks after the outbreak of hostilities Book Annals reported the publication of four reissues of Tolstoy. T h e first of these was 150,000 copies of the Tales of Sevastopol, the story of the heroic defense of that fortress during the Crimean War, a collection of tales destined in 1941 to give new hope to the badly shattered Soviet divisions—some of them perhaps defending the very same city of Sevastopol. Almost overnight, the Pravda plant printed 150,000 copies of the portion of War and Peace (Volume IV, Part III) where Tolstoy describes the courage and effectiveness of the peasant guerrillas fighting Napoleon's troops in 1812; the Children's Publishing House produced 50,000 copies of the same chapter. T h e motivation for the choice of this particular selection is obvious, considering the Soviet effort at the time

3»

PUBLICATION BY GOVERNMENT FIRMS

to organize large resistance movements in the German rear. Finally, the State Publishing House printed 100,000 copies of the description in the same novel of the battle of Borodino, the one that marked the turning point in the Franco-Russian war. No complete data on Soviet publishing are available for the war period and part of the postwar period. T h e evidence at our disposal indicates that the Russian classics were printed and disseminated in the darkest days of the war. The emphasis was, it appears, on those works that glorified "blood, sweat, and tears." In an effort to stir u p hatred of the foreign invader and to keep alive the spirit of Russian national pride, Soviet publishing agencies brought out classics that were permeated with a patriotic spirit, irrespective of their class politics. Gone, it seems, were the large editions of Nekrasov and SaltykovShchedrin. Their places were taken over by War and Peace, the Tales of Sevastopol, the martial poetry of Lermontov, and the tales of Leskov. U p to that time Leskov, an unsurpassed master of storytelling in racy, slangy Russian, had been sorely neglected—perhaps because of his conservative politics and the religious tinge of much of his writing. T h e little of Leskov that did appear consisted for the most part of his antiserfdom tale "The Wig Artist." During the war and immediately after it, Leskov was "rehabilitated," particularly in connection with the fiftieth anniversary of his death in 1945. In the 1940s the most frequently reprinted works of Leskov were "The Iron Will," which satirizes a lunatic German engineer who holds in contempt all that is Russian; the hilarious "Tale of the Left-Handed CrossEyed Smith from Tula and the Steel Flea," in which a Russian artisan outsmarts world-famous British craftsmen; and "The Enchanted Wanderer," the story of a Russian jack-of-all-trades whom life had robbed of everything but courage and faith. One postwar paperback anthology of Leskov was printed in as many as half a million copies. A number of writers of "social protest," temporarily shelved during the war, were restored to their previous position of eminence in the postwar years. Usually the intensified publi-

PUBLICATION BY GOVERNMENT FIRMS

39

cation o£ their works coincided with anniversary observances. During the years 1945-52 there occurred the fiftieth anniversary of the death of Uspenskii, the one hundred and twentyfifth anniversary of the birth of both Nekrasov and SaltykovShchedrin, the bicentennial of Radishchev's birth, and the centennial of Mamin-Sibiriak's. The case of the latter is particularly interesting. Mamin-Sibiriak is almost unknown abroad. However, his works had been familiar to millions of Russians for many decades. But the only Mamin-Sibiriak they knew well was the fairy-tale writer. In the postwar years these fairy tales constituted only a small fraction of the total output of his works. Instead, the Soviet publishing authorities revived the hitherto forgotten Mamin-Sibiriak, the author of Privalov's Millions, Bread, The Mining

Nest, a n d Gold—a. highly political w r i t e r

who saw and depicted the evils of early capitalism in Russia, especially in the expanding industrial areas of the Urals. T h e combined printings of these works of Mamin-Sibiriak in the postwar years reached many millions of copies. The simultaneous emphasis on the patriotic motive and the theme of class consciousness was effectively synchronized with over-all Soviet propaganda in the last years of Stalin's life. T h e classics, in a way, suggested to Soviet readers that their country's claim to superiority over the outside world was based not only on the greater merits of the Soviet social system but also on the proud historical heritage of Russia and the lofty national characteristics of the Russians. In the earlier years of the regime the emphasis on works with a prominent theme of social protest seems to have been directed against the restorationist forces within the country, against those who looked fondly to the bygone days of Imperial Russia, against the so-called "survivals of the past." In the postwar years the same selections from the Russian literary heritage may have suggested to the Soviet citizen that exploitation by landlords, capitalists, kulaks, and the clergy, which had disappeared in Russia many years ago, still existed in every capitalist country of the West. The anti-Western tone of postwar Soviet propaganda, inaugurated with the Zhdanov speeches in 1946, was reflected in

4o

PUBLICATION BY GOVERNMENT FIRMS

the strongly intensified publication of the few works of prerevolutionary Russian literature that could be used directly for the purposes of this campaign. The works included the already mentioned Frigate "Pallas" of Goncharov, which contains numerous jibes at Anglo-American imperialism and colonialism in the Far East; Saltykov-Shchedrin's A broad, a satire on bourgeois France in the latter part of the last century; and Korolenko's Tongueless, the story of the ordeals of a Ukrainian immigrant in the United States. It has been pointed out that the Soviet authorities attempt whenever possible to make political capital out of the Russian classics. One method employed to attain this objective is the selection of works for publication, and another is discrimination in the sizes of individual editions. Tendentious accounts of the lives of famous nineteenth-century writers and biased interpretations of their works are still another; these will be examined in Chapter V. All this does not mean, of course, that prerevolutionary belles-lettres of little or no political value to the regime have not been published. Millions of copies of such works have appeared annually since the end of the Second World War, particularly since Stalin's death. In fact, the appearance of literary classics of dubious ideological value is, in the USSR, a reliable indicator of an ideological "thaw." Thus, the classics that had been for many years on the unofficial—but quite effective—index of works not permitted to appear in print were made available to the public in the years 1954-57. They were, so to speak, "amnestied," together with certain victims of the anti-"cosmopolitan" witch-hunts and with some of the banned works of Soviet literature of the 1920s and 1930s. Works of such prerevolutionary "reactionary" writers as Pisemskii and S. Ia. Nadson reappeared simultaneously with those of such Soviet writers of the 1920s and 1930s as Bruno Jasienski, Isaac Babel, and Iurii Olesha; it was also at that time that a number of disgraced "cosmopolitan" writers and critics, many of them Jewish, emerged from obscurity, returned from prisons, or were posthumously "rehabilitated."

PUBLICATION BY GOVERNMENT FIRMS

41

In spite of their enormous sales, Soviet editions of the Russian classics, contrary to the popular belief in the West, are not very cheap. An average hard-cover edition of a Russian classic of some four hundred pages in large print on poorquality paper costs approximately one (new) ruble, or more than one dollar at the officiai rate of exchange—a not inconsiderable price in view of the average skilled worker's monthly wage of eighty new rubles. It can safely be assumed therefore that the state makes a handsome profit on the publication of the classics, which may well be a serious consideration in the authorities' decision to make them available to the Soviet public. Nevertheless one must not discount the desire of the Soviet leaders to appear as the protectors and disseminators of Russia's literary heritage as another possible motive behind the periodical reprinting of prerevolutionary literature, by both the great writers and the lesser ones. The important point, however, is that the works of these non-Soviet writers are made available and are readily within the reach of the average Soviet citizen.

IV Types of Edition "He that publishes a book runs a very great hazard, since nothing can be more impossible than to compose one that may secure the approbation of every reader." This observation in Cervantes's Don Quixote has gained in validity in the more than three centuries since its writing. While virtual liquidation of illiteracy has, in theory, made every nontechnical book accessible to every citizen, it has also resulted in a great diversification of reading tastes and needs. In eras gone by the literate minorities formed more or less homogeneous occupational and educational groups, whether these were Egyptian scribes, medieval monks, or French aristocrats. Gradually the ranks of those able to read in any particular language were joined by tradesmen, women, peasants, children, and foreigners. Theoretically, they can all read all nonspecialized books. In practice, however, some of them tend to prefer certain types of reading matter to others. It is not simply a matter of educational levels; emotional factors are just as important. We all know that women generally enjoy reading love stories more than men do, that children usually exhibit a marked preference for tales of adventure, that works tackling serious philosophical and moral problems appeal mostly to intellectual readers, that the "average" Englishman seems to love detective stories, and that the Japanese apparently delight in lyric poetry. This does not mean, of course, that there are no children who like adult books, or adults who enjoy juvenile literature, or Japanese devotees of Sherlock Holmes. We can only speak of tendencies that one is likely to observe in these groups of readers.

TYPES

OF

43

EDITION

The literary heritage o£ the nineteenth-century Russian masters is both vast and varied; it contains both high-brow and low-brow works, writings that appeal to the most refined intellectuals and others that captivate semiliterate laborers. Upon assumption of custodianship over the Russian classics, Soviet authorities immediately embarked on an ambitious project of dissemination of the classics among all strata of the population. To accomplish this they proceeded with an active program of publication of the classics in different types of editions—those most likely to reach the intelligentsia and lovers of books in general, those intended mainly for the nonhabitual readers, those destined for schoolchildren, and so forth. T h i s diversification has been retained to the present time. There is no guarantee, of course, that a laborer will not purchase an "academic" edition of a classic supplied with footnotes and textual variants, or that an aged professor will not reread his granddaughter's collection of Russian poetry. T h e publisher is forced to "visualize" his readers, and it is only reasonable to assume that certain types of editions will reach specific groups of readers. EDITIONS FOR T H E

INTELLIGENTSIA

In Gogol's Inspector General the impostor Khlestakov, eager to impress the provincials with his importance in St. Petersburg society, claims to have written a number of novels and "doctored" numerous others; he even invents a friendly conversation between himself and Pushkin. T h e provincials in Gogol's comedy were duly awed; there are few countries in the world with a tradition of respect for literature as deep as in Russia. At present, too, the possession of complete sets of Chekhov, Tolstoy, and other great classical authors is a mark of Soviet kul'turnost'. Yet it is unlikely that the multivolume editions of the Russian classics are purchased on the basis of snob appeal alone.1 Acquisition of a set is both difficult and expensive. Advance subscription is almost always required, and then the l T h e term "multivolume" is used to describe editions both of complete collected works of an individual author in many volumes and of selected works in sets of two or more books. Editions of a single work in several volumes, such as a four-volume set of War and Peace, are not included.

44

TYPES OF EDITION

prospective owner must be ready to wait, frequently for many years, until the books appear. Unlike other types of books, multivolume editions are, in terms of Soviet purchasing power, quite expensive, and a large set represents a considerable investment. In such circumstances we may assume that the proud owners not only buy these sets but read them, too. T h e physical appearance of the multivolume sets of the Russian classics is unlike that of the great majority of Soviet books. They are printed on good paper; the bindings are frequently rich; the type is clear; the drawings, photographs, and reproductions of manuscripts are sometimes excellent. The editions are supplemented with exhaustive and serious commentaries, ranging from thorough biographical accounts and the usual Soviet sociopolitical evaluations of the writer's works to dry textual interpretations. Usually multivolume editions are announced in the press on the eve of a jubilee celebrating an anniversary of a writer's birth or death. Not infrequently the publication is ordered by a decree of the Council of Ministers (earlier the Council of People's Commissars), and such occasions are also marked by special mass meetings, the renaming of streets, issues of commemorative stamps, and the unveiling of monuments. Most frequently the dead author is honored by the publication of a set comprising selected volumes of his writings; occasionally his complete works may be published, giving textual variants. In several cases (for example, those of Pushkin and Tolstoy) both editions were launched simultaneously. Between 1918 and 1952 practically all of the better-known nineteenth-century Russian authors have had their works scheduled for publication in multivolume editions, although these editions have not always been completed. Nevertheless the list of these editions found in Table 13 in Appendix D is quite impressive—in spite of the fact that the selection of authors and the types of edition allotted to each of them is not free from ideological bias on the part of the publishers. For example, there can be no quarrel with Pushkin's occupying the first place on the list or with the many editions of Chekhov and Gogol. But it is more than probable that the ten complete editions of Nekrasov's poetry as

TYPES O F

EDITION

45

contrasted with the two of Tiutchev and one of Fet had more to do with the politics of the latter two than with their literary merit and their popularity with the reading public. Similarly, one may ask why there has never been an edition of the complete works of Turgenev. 2 He can hardly be considered inferior as a writer to Uspenskii, Radishchev, and Mamin-Sibiriak, whose works have been published in their entirety. The publication of multivolume editions is a responsible task, and only certain publishing houses are entrusted with it. Particularly difficult is the preparation of complete editions. It involves not only a great deal of editorial work (such as collating the various published versions of a work with the original manuscripts) but also considerable political intuition—certain works of an individual author may not support the ideological generalizations found in Soviet evaluations of his work. For example, Nekrasov is invariably described in Soviet journals and encyclopedias as a left-wing "progressive," almost "revolutionary" writer. Some of Nekrasov's writings (such as his notorious ode to Murav'ëv, the suppressor of the Polish uprising) would hardly support this view, and hence they do not appear in the popular editions of his works. But in the complete editions of Nekrasov such writings must be included and, if possible, justified. Or, to take another example, the short-story writer Korolenko is always described as a great humanitarian and progressive public figure, who, among other things, resigned from the Imperial Academy when Gorky's application for membership was vetoed. If a complete edition of his works were to be published, however, the commentators could not pass over in total silence Korolenko's pleas on behalf of the Whites taken prisoner by the Bolsheviks during the Civil War. The same sort of difficulty must be coped with—only on a much larger scale—in publishing a complete Tolstoy or Dostoyevsky. 2 The first volume of a projected twenty-eight-volume edition of Turgenev's works and correspondence appeared in 1961. The set will, in all probability, be completed by 1968, the year of the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the novelist's birth.

46

TYPES OF EDITION

In the early postrevolutionary years the delicate task of publishing complete editions was the monopoly of the People's Commissariat of Education. Somewhat later this responsibility was delegated to the publishing house Academia, and since the mid-1930s most of the complete editions bear the imprint of the USSR Academy of Sciences. Multivolume editions of selected works present fewer editorial and political difficulties ("inconvenient" works do not have to be included in them) and are printed under the auspices of such mass-scale enterprises as the State Publishing House and the State Publishing House of Children's Literature. Although most of the multivolume editions appear in connection with jubilee observances, the number of such editions does not depend solely on the number of jubilees that occur each year. An examination of the chronological distribution of this type of edition reveals that a disproportionately large number of them came out immediately after the Revolution and since the Second World War. During both periods, it would appear, the victorious Soviet government was particularly eager to impress its own subjects and the entire world with its splendid cultural achievements. And it must be admitted that many of these editions of the Russian classics, often involving brilliant textual restorations and exhaustive scholarly commentaries, are models of editorial skill and very impressive testimony for such claims. Of course, the announcement that the works of a great author will be made available in a multivolume (or complete) edition is no assurance of prompt or even ultimate realization of the project. As the old Russian proverb goes: "The tale is told quickly, but the job is done slowly." T h e exceptionally slow pace of publication of multivolume editions cannot be justified by technical difficulties alone, although these should not be disregarded. T h e unhurried tempo, it seems, is due in no small measure to the Soviet phenomenon of shturmovshchina— "stormism." This consists of the mobilization of all resources for the fulfillment of those tasks that are at a given moment regarded by the Soviet authorities as the most urgent. For a time, feverish activity results in spectacular achievements; but

TYPES OF

EDITION

47

then the authorities proclaim another campaign, and the old project is half-forgotten. This practice of literary shturmovshchina is to be observed in the publication of the multivolume editions of the Russian classics. Their publication is usually launched to coincide with anniversary celebrations during which the writer's name appears on the front page of almost every newspaper. For a time one volume after another appears at a pretty brisk pace. If the multivolume edition is not very large (say, three or four volumes), the chances are that it will be completed while the jubilee celebrations are in progress or are, at least, still remembered. If, however, the edition involves much work by way of preparation of manuscript material, and if its size is larger (five or more volumes), it is likely that it will not be completed on time. In such cases the completion may be postponed for many years, since the edition is no longer on the top priority list and receives little attention in the press. Occasionally, such editions benefit from another publicity campaign at a later date, and in those instances they are completed much earlier than the other "delayed" editions. For example, an edition of the complete works of the eighteenth-century radical writer Radishchev was started in 1938 but was not finished until 1952. It seems that the bicentennial of Radishchev's birth in 1949, which was widely publicized in the Soviet Union, speeded the completion of the undertaking. Quite similar is the history of the Academy of Sciences edition of the complete works of Pushkin. 3 This edition was originally planned to be ready in time for the Pushkin centennial in 1937. Many reasons, among which not the least important were the Yezhov purges, prevented this intention from being carried out.4 One can only guess at the number of years this project would have remained in the realm of "planning" were it not 3 A. S. Pushkin, Polnoe sobrante sochinenii, 1837-1937 (Complete Collected Works, 1837-1937), M. Gorky, editor-in-chief; V. P. Volgin, lu. G. Oksman, eds. (Moscow: Izdatel'stvo Akademii Nauk SSSR, 1935-49). 4 An interesting account of the history of this undertaking is given by a Soviet refugee who was, in the 1930s, a member of the editorial board of the Pushkin edition project. See Ludwig Domherr, The Pushkin Edition of the USSR Academy of Sciences (Mimeographed series No. 45; New York: Research Program on the USSR, 1953).

48

TYPES OF

EDITION

for the fortunate coincidence that 1949 marked the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of Pushkin's birth. T h e edition, which was originally scheduled for one jubilee celebration, was finally finished in time for another one twelve years later. T h e most famous multivolume edition of a Russian writer's works is the jubilee set of Tolstoy which began to appear on the centennial of the novelist's birth in 1928.® It was apparent that an undertaking of such magnitude (a total of ninety volumes, appearing in three series: fiction and nonfiction, diaries, and correspondence) would require considerable time. The edition was finally completed more than thirty years later on the eve of the fiftieth anniversary of Tolstoy's death in 1960. We have been considering editions that were eventually completed, though often after considerable delay. More numerous are examples of unfinished projects that were dropped altogether after the appearance of several initial volumes. Thus, in the early 1920s the People's Commissariat of Education began a complete edition of the romantic poet V. A. Zhukovskii. Book Annals indicate that only two volumes appeared, although but a single volume was needed to complete the project. Then there were also three different six-volume editions of Pushkin's complete works, each of which lacks a single volume. Other abandoned multivolume editions include what was to have been an issue of Tolstoy's complete works of fiction (launched in 1927), two editions of the poet Nekrasov (1937 and 1938), three of the satirist Saltykov-Shchedrin (1918, 1933, and 1936), two of the short story writer Korolenko (1922 and 1930), and one of Chekhov (1918).« Occasionally, an originally announced edition of a writer's complete collected works is renamed "selected works" and then 5 L. N. Tolstoy, Polnoe sobrante sochinenii, iubileinoe izdanie, 1828-1928 (Complete Collected Works, Jubilee Edition, 1828-1928), V. G. Chertkov, general ed. (Moscow and Leningrad: Gosizdat, 1928-59). β With only a few exceptions, the Book Annals do not indicate the number o£ volumes planned in a multivolume edition. For this reason only those volumes that would have had to precede those that did appear are considered missing, e.g., if Volume XVI of an edition is listed in the Book Annals, any volume numbered I to XV that did not come out is considered missing. It is, of course, possible that the publishers envisaged a Volume XVII, but there are no means of ascertaining this fact. Thus, it is probable that the number of multivolume editions never completed is actually larger than this chapter indicates.

TYPES OF EDITION

49

declared completed. There are at least three instances of this procedure. T h e first one is the complete edition of the novelist Goncharov. Originally started under the auspices of the People's Commissariat of Education soon after the Revolution, it lay forgotten for a few years and then reappeared eleven years later as "selected works." It can, of course, be argued that Goncharov is the author of one great novel, Oblomov, and that his other works are second-rate and not all worth reprinting. Nevertheless, one must agree that the Soviet critics and publishers were well aware of this fact in 1918 when they began printing what was to be an edition of all the writings of Goncharov, and their change of plans may thus be considered an early example of Soviet shturmovshchina. That the reasons for such changes in publishing plans are not purely esthetic or even commercial can be illustrated by the example of the twelve-volume edition of the selected works of Mamin-Sibiriak, the writer of fairy tales and of novels about early Russian industry in the Urals. It appears that after the Second World War the Sverdlovsk publishing house planned to bring out all of his writings, and one volume of this edition was actually printed. But the edition of Mamin-Sibiriak's complete works was abandoned in favor of his selected writings, which came out between 1948 and 1952. This, again, is quite strange, for all of Mamin-Sibiriak's writings hardly amount to much more than twelve volumes, and the prestige of publishing a set of complete works is much greater than that of merely another multivolume edition of selected works. Perhaps the decision was influenced by Mamin-Sibiriak's political sympathies. A contemporary of Lenin, Mamin-Sibiriak was active in Populist circles, and Soviet publishing authorities may have been reluctant to bring out some of his journalistic writings. One also wonders why the new eight-volume edition of Goncharov, which was started by the State Publishing House in 1952, was not expanded into an edition of complete works, or why the same was not done with either of the two twelve-volume editions of Turgenev, one of 1928-34 and another of 1954-56. There has never been a Soviet edition of Turgenev's complete writings.

5o

TYPES OF EDITION

T h e most interesting case of a metamorphosis from a complete into a selected edition is that of Dostoyevsky. Several weeks after the coup d'état of November, 1917, Book Annals noted the appearance of two volumes of an edition of Dostoyevsky's complete collected works that was being brought out by a private corporation of stockholders. 7 Shortly thereafter, the corporation was, in all probability, dissolved, and nothing was heard of the edition. However, several months later, in 1918, the People's Commissariat of Education brought out one volume (actually, Volume XII) of its own edition of Dostoyevsky's complete writings; the volume contained The Brothers Karamazov.8 In 1926 this undertaking, still unfinished, was taken over by the State Publishing House, and the edition's title was changed from Complete Collected Works to Complete Artistic Works, that is, belles-lettres. One would think that the aim of the change was to evade the necessity of publishing, at the proletarian taxpayer's expense, some of Dostoyevsky's "reactionary" writings. In reality, however, the edition turned out to be wider in scope than might have been expected. As its title promised, it comprised all of Dostoyevsky's fiction, including The Possessed, and also even some of his more important nonfiction: Diary of a Writer and certain articles, most of them quite "reactionary." It is therefore difficult to understand why Soviet authorities did not make available all that ever came from Dostoyevsky's pen, which would have greatly enhanced the value of the edition. T h e first years after the Revolution and the period since the Second World War are noted not only for the large number of sets of complete works but also for the large printings. This tends to support the thesis that the book trade in the Soviet Union operates not so much on the basis of the public's demand, as Soviet authorities claim, as on the authorities' decision on the extent to which this demand is to be met. Otherwise one finds it impossible to account for the fact that the 7 F. M. Dostoevskii, Polnoe sobrante sochinenii (Complete Collected Works), compiled and with commentary by L. P. Grossman, Vols. XXII, XXIII (Petrograd: Izdatel'stvo Aktsionernogo Obshchestva Izdatel'stva i Pechati, 1918). 8 Dostoevskii, Polnoe sobrante sochinenii, Vol. XII, Part II.

TYPES OF

EDITION

51

sales of complete collected works are approximately the same in these two chronologically distant periods of Soviet history, which differ greatly not only in their political moods but also in the size of the potential reading public. By the late 1940s the Soviet population was significantly larger than in the early 1920s; great progress has been made in the elimination of illiteracy; the Russification of the minorities had swelled the number of readers of Russian books. It is therefore very unlikely that the editions of fifty to a hundred thousand copies, which are typical of both periods, equally reflect the public's demand for such editions.9 In contrast to the figures for editions of complete collected works, the printings of the multivolume editions of selected works appear more realistic. On the average, editions brought out after the Second World War are much larger than those of the prewar period. The tempo of publication of multivolume editions is not conducive to acquisition of complete sets, though as a rule orders are accepted only for entire sets. Indeed, in the case of such protracted ventures as the jubilee editions of Pushkin and Tolstoy, many of the purchasers of the first few volumes were likely to be dead long before the last volume came off the presses.10 On the other hand, people who decide to acquire an edition of which the first volumes have appeared several years earlier may find it very difficult to obtain these first volumes as they are by that time likely to be out of print. There are some exceptions. For example, the first twelve volumes of Tolstoy's jubilee edition were reprinted later at 5,000 copies per volume, though it appears that this was done mainly to revise these volumes in the light of subsequent research. On the whole, 9 The complete editions launched in the first years after the Revolution include those of Chekhov and Zhukovskii (100,000 copies per volume); Nekrasov, Uspenskii, and Goncharov (50,000). The smallest edition (10,000) was, paradoxically, that of the then much-favored Saltykov-Shchedrin. Among the postwar editions were those of Pushkin and Ostrovskii (100,000 each); Lermontov (two editions, 75,000 and 100,000); and Chekhov (53,000). 10 Domherr, The Pushkin Edition of the USSR Academy of Sciences, points out that the management of the Pushkin edition of the Academy of Sciences sent out letters to the original subscribers to ascertain whether to send them forthcoming volumes. The mailing lists had to be revised; many of the subscribers had disappeared during the wave of arrests and executions in the late 1930s.

52

TYPES OF

EDITION

Soviet publishing authorities make little effort to provide new subscribers with the earlier volumes. 11 And finally, before the Second World War, the acquisition of entire sets was made difficult because in only a few cases was the same number of copies printed for each volume. It is to be expected that certain classics require less editorial work than others. Writings that have been published previously in their definitive texts can simply be reprinted, whereas in other cases not only must the work be done from manuscript material, but frequently these manuscripts must first be located. As a result, among the first volumes to appear are those that contain the more conventional selection of the writer's betterknown works, which are also readily available in various popular editions. T h e less known writings, which rarely, if ever, appear in other than the multivolume series—and are thus, from a literary viewpoint, the main attraction of these editions—are published last. And since, as a rule, before the Second World War, the size of the printings of individual volumes declined as the edition progressed, these were the writings for which the smallest number of copies were printed. T o cite but one example: T h e 1926 edition of Dostoyevsky was inaugurated with several volumes of his shorter works, in some 14,000 copies each; Crime and Punishment appeared in 10,000; the politically even less desirable Brothers Karamazov in 7,000; the volume containing the Diary of a Writer was printed in 5,000 copies; the thirteenth and concluding volume, which included Dostoyevsky's articles—extremely rare in any printed form— for the period from 1845 to 1878, came out in only 650 copies, which was almost tantamount to banning the book, since a good part of these 650 copies was destined for export. Tolstoy's jubilee edition offers another example: the first series (belles11 However, new printings of the entire set are not infrequent. In Western book publishing it is the usual practice to print additional copies of earlier volumes in multivolume editions. To cite but one example, Winston Churchill's six-volume The Second World War, which appeared between 1948 and 1954, was selling much better than was originally expected, and the publishers brought out each consecutive volume in more copies than the preceding one. This was supplemented by additional printing of the earlier volumes so that each purchaser could acquire the entire set. See S. H. Steinberg, Five Hundred Years of Printing (Edinburgh: Penguin Books, 1955), p. 245.

TYPES OF EDITION

53

lettres) appeared at a pretty lively pace, usually in 20,000 copies per volume; however, the average printings of the diaries and the letters, which are not included in other editions, were 5,000 copies. There is reason to believe that Soviet editors are not too unhappy over this state of affairs. Reprinting works that have previously appeared in several Soviet editions is, of course, much safer politically than bringing out new ones among which there may be some that are of dubious ideological content. Excessive zeal in bringing out such classics may one day be interpreted as evidence of literary subversion or—worse still—anti-Soviet wrecking. Thus it is safer to bring out first such titles as Anna Karenina, Crime and Punishment, or Dead Souls, and to postpone the appearance of the writings on nonresistance to evil, the Diary of a Writer, and the Correspondence with Friends for as long as possible. Since the end of the Second World War the publishing of multivolume editions has greatly improved both in tempo and orderliness. In the sets of Gogol, Goncharov, Turgenev, Chekhov, Pushkin, Ostrovskii, Lermontov, Dostoyevsky, MaminSibiriak, and other writers, all volumes have, in general, been printed in the same number of copies. Rigid Communists scoff at such liberalism. Thus, the Soviet writer Gennadii Fish questioned the wisdom of printing the entire set of Leskov in the same number of copies. Writing in Literaturnaia gazeta (Literary Gazette), January 13, 1959, Fish suggested that "less famous works" be printed in a smaller number of copies: "Why has the volume containing Leskov's novel No Way Out, which is artistically weak and slanders revolutionary democrats, and also a volume of his correspondence, been published in 300,000 copies?" As a rule, multivolume editions of the Russian classics are accompanied by one or several critical articles. Sometimes these are highly technical papers, but in most cases the articles are quite general. These are designed to explain to the reader, in the first place, the writer's sociopolitical significance to the present generation of Soviet readers, and also to provide the reader with some background knowledge of the old writer's

54

TYPES OF EDITION

historical epoch and his place in Russian literature. T h e articles, commentaries, and footnotes included in the multivolume editions differ from those found in the popular reprints of the classics, especially in their length and comprehensiveness. In addition to their larger body of factual information, the forewords and the footnotes in the multivolume editions are much more likely to admit the old writer's ideological sins, including his unfriendly attitudes toward the more revolutionary currents of his day, his religious beliefs, conservative politics, and so forth. T h e popular editions lean over backward to convince the reader that the author under discussion was, retroactively, almost in total agreement with the current Soviet policies—the emphasis, as will be seen in Chapter V, shifts periodically— whereas the scholarly editions offer a more adult treatment of the problem. Naturally, the commentators stress those aspects of the writer's biography and output that present the author in a favorable light, but, unlike the popular series, they make no attempt to suppress all evidence that would tend to disprove their thesis. Thus, the author's politically undesirable works, which, as frequently as not, are by-passed in silence or dismissed with a polemical platitude in popular editions, are sometimes discussed at length in the commentaries to the multivolume sets. T h e authors of these commentaries are not only, as one would expect, the country's leading literary scholars and critics, b u t some of the best known political leaders as well. Most prolific among the latter was Α. V. Lunacharskii, for many years commissar of education and the Party's spokesman in cultural matters. Among his numerous articles on literature, one finds forewords and commentaries to the multivolume editions of Pushkin, Tolstoy, Chekhov, and Korolenko. Occasionally, while the edition is in progress, one name or another disappears from the list of editors appearing on the title page. T h e reason for such an omission is not natural death, for in such a case the name would appear with a black border around it. Here we deal with another manifestation of the Soviet custom of eradicating all memories of a man subsequently declared persona non grata. Thus, in a three-volume set of Gogol, edited by the well-known Bolshevik leader Lev Kamenev,

TYPES O F

EDITION

55

Kamenev's name appears only in the first volume, which came out in 1931. In the subsequent volumes the name of Kamenev, by then already an "enemy of the people," is missing.12 T h e Academy of Sciences edition of Pushkin, which was referred to earlier, began to appear in 1935 under the editorship of a commission of three men, V. P. Volgin, lu. G. Oksman, and Maxim Gorky. The volumes that came out after 1937 indicate a different editorial board: "M. Gorky, S. M. Bondi, V. D. Bonch-Bruevich, and others." The name of Maxim Gorky, who died in 1936 and was officially mourned throughout the Soviet Union, was retained in a black border. The name of lu. G. Oksman and its bearer in the flesh disappeared together with the thousands of victims of the purges. 13 Multivolume editions are published in fewer copies than are the issues of individual books, although occasionally sets of selected—as distinct from complete—works of the Russian classics appear in hundreds of thousands of copies. Nevertheless, more space has been devoted here to these editions than to any other kind because it was felt that the multivolume editions are in a way the most important ones. Their scholarly commentaries, textual variants, photographic reproductions of manuscripts, and even their fine printing and high prices, all point to the fact that these books are prepared especially for intellectual readers, for the class of people that molds the tastes and opinions of others. The multivolume editions, furthermore, are the pride of Soviet publishing. They serve as models to be emulated by other publishers; their texts are the definitive versions reprinted in the other editions; and their commentaries provide the material for the forewords to the popular reprints of the classics. At the present time the great majority of the Russian classics 12 Ν. V. Gogol, Sobrante sochinenii ν 3-kh tomakh (Collected Works in Three Volumes), L. B. Kamenev and V. I. Solov'ëv, eds. (Moscow: 1931). T h e other volumes give only V. I. Solov'ëv as editor. 13 According to Professor Leon Stilman of Columbia University, Oksman is now again in Moscow and participates in literary activities. He was probably amnestied after Stalin's death. T h e Soviet publishing authorities are not always well informed as to the whereabouts of their employees. A volume of the Pushkin edition brought out after the war still had Mr. Domherr's name on the list of the editorial staff. Mr. Domherr had left the USSR some years before.

56

TYPES OF EDITION

published for the more intellectual readers consists of multivolume editions of selected works, usually brought out by the State Publishing House, and of sets of complete works which are virtually—though not altogether—a monopoly of the USSR Academy of Sciences. T h e only other enterprises that publish classics for this group of readers are Sovetskii pisatel' (The Soviet Writer) and Iskusstvo (Art). However, in the first two decades of Soviet rule, and especially during the NEP, a large number of enterprises catered specifically to this select audience. True, several of these publishing outlets 14 had to their credit only one or two such publications, and they are mentioned here only because their existence illustrates the greater decentralization, and hence the greater degree of freedom, in the publishing field during those years. But there were also four larger enterprises of which two (The Soviet Writer and Art) are still in existence, and the output of which merits a more detailed account. Academia began to publish single volumes of the classics during the First Five-Year Plan and remained in business until the eve of the Second World War. In the first years of its activity Academia—the name, incidentally, was printed in Latin script on all of its publications, another indication of the firm's "high-brow" clientele—performed a valuable service by making available reprints of the Russian classics at a time when very few editions were being brought out by the State Publishing House, which at that period was concentrating its attention on the crudely propagandistic works produced by the members of the Russian Association of Proletarian Writers. In addition to some small editions of all-time favorites, Academia also issued some of the previously unpublished writings by Tolstoy and Saltykov-Shchedrin, "exotic" tales by Mel'nikov-Pecherskii, some of K. N. Batiushkov's romantic ballads, and the prerevolutionary sentimental dime novel Petersburg Slums, by V. V. Krestovskii. In the mid-1920s a number of previously unpublished works of the Russian classics appeared under the imprint of Ogonëk 14 Such as Atenei (Atheneum), Vremia (Time), L. D. Frenkel', Seiatel' (The Planter), Krug (The Circle), Pushkinskii dom (Pushkin House, that is, the Pushkin Museum), Izdatel'stvo pisatelei ν Leningrade (Leningrad Writers' Publishing House), and Federatsiia (Federation).

TYPES OF EDITION

57

(Flamelet), the Soviet Union's largest illustrated magazine. Following the tradition of prerevolutionary magazines (for example, Niva), Ogonëk occasionally sends its subscribers, as a premium, paper-bound reprints of various types of literary works, both Russian and translated. Among the books brought out by Ogonëk before the war one finds four titles by Tolstoy: two issues of hitherto unpublished versions of parts of War and Peace, a volume of passages from the unfinished novel about the Decembrist revolt (presumably the initial effort in the writing of War and Peace), and excerpts from a contemplated novel about Peter the Great. The rest of Ogonëk's output of first editions consisted of two tales of Chekhov ("The Case of Rykov & Co." and " T h e Skopin Bank Affair"); a volume of unknown chapters from Goncharov's Precipice; a newly discovered tale by Nekrasov ("Makar Osipovich Sluchainyi"); some new Koz'ma Prutkov nonsense verse; and several tales by Saltykov-Shchedrin. The Soviet Writer is known today as the most important publisher of modern Soviet writing. Another of its activities is the publication of a series of pocket-size hard-cover books called The Poet's Library (Biblioteka poeta), started in the early 1930s under the editorship of Maxim Gorky; there were two editions of the series, the second after the Second World War. The size of the printings of these booklets fluctuated between five and twenty thousand copies each, an unimpressive figure in Soviet publishing; this, however, does not diminish their importance for the lover of Russian poetry. The series is designed to please the discriminating reader of verse, to provide him with old poetry that cannot be easily obtained in other editions. The list of authors represented in the series includes all of the better-known prerevolutionary Russian poets, excluding only the Symbolists.15 Emphasis was on the least published works !5I. F. Annenskii, Batiushkov, V. G. Benediktov, A. Bestuzhev-Marlinskii, E. A. Boratynskii, A. A. Del'vig, Derzhavin, Ershov, Fet, F. N. Glinka, N. I. Gnedich, A. A. Grigor'ev, Griboedov, N. M. Iazykov, Kol'tsov, Krylov, Küchelbecker, Lermontov, Α. Ν. Maikov, L. A. Mei, Nekrasov, Nikitin, A. Odoevskii, N. P. Ogarëv, A. I. Polezhaev, "Prutkov," A. N. Pleshcheev, Pushkin, K. F. Ryleev, F. Sologub, A. P. Sumarokov, A. K. Tolstoy, Turgenev, V. K. Trediakovskii, Tiutchev, D. V. Venevitinov, P. A. Viazemskii, and Zhukovskii. There were also several anthologies of works by minor poets and a number o£ volumes of folk poetry.

58

TYPES OF EDITION

of these authors. Pushkin, for one, was represented not only by his widely reprinted lyrics, of which not a few must be memorized by every Russian schoolboy, but by his less known satirical verses. P. P. Ershov, who is known almost exclusively for his fairy tale The Humpback Pony, appeared in the series as the author of some serious poetry. Griboedov, a one-bookauthor par excellence, was reintroduced here to the admirers of Woe from Wit as a romantic poet. So was the novelist Turgenev. Iskusstvo (Art) is another publishing house that has functioned since the mid-1930s; it publishes only drama, old and new, Russian and foreign. The Art editions resemble the multivolume series in their technical make-up. They are usually printed on better than average paper, have good drawings and photographs, and are frequently oversized. In addition to the customary biographical and sociopolitical articles, they sometimes include extensive prefaces and annotations on the techniques of staging that are best suited for particular plays; these are often written by the country's leading actors and theatrical directors. The Russian classics printed by Art consist for the most part of individual dramas by Ostrovskii, which is to be expected in view of the fact that Ostrovskii wrote approximately as many plays as all the other major Russian writers combined. There are also dramas by Gogol, Griboedov, Chekhov, D. I. Fonvizin, Lermontov, Tolstoy, and Turgenev. An average Art edition does not exceed 50,000 copies. It is safe to assume that to the broad masses of Russia's population the nationalization of the classics in 1918 meant little more than obtaining greater access to the nation's literary heritage. T o the Russian intelligentsia, however, it is more likely that the decree meant most of all that the government assumed responsibility for the country's cultural treasures, that the state was to replace the many individual protectors of the arts in prerevolutionary Russia. T h e Soviet government's step was particularly significant in view of its generally derisive attitude toward the Russian past. In the early years of the regime, as

TYPES OF EDITION

59

is known, Russian patriotism was condemned, Russian traditions flouted, Russian religion ridiculed, Russian churches desecrated. But Russian literature was to be spared, and the state was to become its custodian. The forty-year record of government custodianship over Russia's literary heritage has, on the whole, been a favorable one, and the editions of the classics for the more serious readers attest to this fact. Since 1917 there have been many fine, attractive scholarly editions of the Russian classics, and by Soviet standards these have been remarkably free of political bias both in the selection of their contents and in the commentaries appended to them. The writings included in these editions—not only in the sets of complete works, but in the multivolume editions of selected works as well—frequently comprise works that the Soviet authorities consider, with good reason, politically undesirable. It is unlikely that these are published solely for scholarly reasons. There are scores of works of great scholarly value that have not been republished in the Soviet Union because of their political implications—though it must be admitted that there has been some change since Stalin's death. In 1957, for example, there appeared a Russian edition of John Reed's Ten Days That Shook the World, which belittles Stalin— this was encouraged in 1956-57—and praises Trotsky—this was, and still is, forbidden. The book was carefully footnoted, but the text itself was left intact. Similarly, Soviet readers now have access to an eight-volume set of V. O. Kliuchevskii, perhaps the greatest prerevolutionary Russian historian, and to an increasing number of translations, such as the wartime memoirs of Charles de Gaulle. Traditionally, in countries with restrictions on freedom of the press, periodicals and books destined for the intellectual groups of readers enjoy fewer limitations than those printed for the general readers, in spite of the fact that these books and journals may provide the intellectual readers with antigovernment arguments and in spite of the government's distrust of the intelligentsia. Nondemocratic regimes must guess which will produce more damage; providing their intellectual citizenry with potentially subversive books, or facing its resent-

6o

TYPES OF

EDITION

ment over the withholding of these books. Sometimes they choose the former course, and sometimes the latter, and they are rarely consistent. Such inconsistency was characteristic of Imperial Russia, particularly during the last years of the Romanovs; censorship restrictions varied with price, length, and the intellectual level of books and periodicals. As a result, some mildly reformist books written for the peasants were banned, whereas Karl Marx's Das Kapital was sold quite openly. A similar double standard—though with less glaring disparitieshas been in force in Poland since Gomulka's return to power. Traces of this tradition are also evident in the USSR. Whereas restrictions imposed on Soviet press and publishing are remarkably uniform—and these apply also to modern Soviet belles-lettres since the Communist authorities make no fundamental distinction between different genres of the printed word—those imposed on the editions of the Russian classics vary. Paradoxically, they are stricter in the case of popular editions destined for the politically more inert workers and peasants and are more lax with regard to editions likely to reach the more restive intelligentsia. Readers of multivolume editions are the only ones who have access to Tolstoy's religiousmoralistic writings, to The Possessed, the Diary of a Writer, and Notes from the Underground, and to the "reactionary" novels of Leskov. This does not mean, of course, that the Soviet authorities approve of these works. Far from it. But not unlike American courts of justice in deciding on obscenity in literature, they are guided not only by the "objective" contents of the particular work itself but also by another consideration: who is most likely to read it. EDITIONS FOR THE PROLETARIAT

In addition to the general output of the State Publishing House destined for the broad reading public, there have always been in the Soviet Union special editions of the Russian classics destined for the least literate segments of the population. These, of course, are for the most part workers and peasants. The editions destined for these readers bear some resemblance

TYPES OF EDITION

6l

to the ones printed for children—both are printed in large type, contain extensive glossaries of foreign words, footnotes on historical allusions, and so forth—but do not include such children's favorites as fairy tales and the like. Instead, they concentrate on material that would be of interest to adult readers lacking in formal education. In the first two years of the Soviet regime the "proletarian" editions of the classics truly served the purpose envisaged in the nationalization decree of 1918, that is, of diversion and ideological education. But the foremost aim pursued by the Soviet publishing authorities was to bring masterpieces of literature to the backward masses. Since most of these were illiterate, it was first of all necessary to teach them to read. T h e names of some of the early publishing enterprises producing for this market were quite eloquent in themselves: Down With Illiteracy (Doloi negramotnost'), T h e Library of the Beginning Reader (Biblioteka nachinaiushchego chitatelia), The Book for the Socialist Village (Knigu—sotsialisticheskoi derevne). Some important publishers of the period that produced similar editions were the Peasant Gazette (Krest'ianskaia gazeta), the Factory Whistle (Gudok), Red Virgin Soil (Krasnaia nov'), Land and Factory (Zemlia i fabrika), and the T r u t h (Pravda; the newspaper also operates a publishing house). Mention was made earlier in this chapter of the comparatively apolitical selection of Russian classics offered to intellectual readers. Exactly the opposite is true of the books aimed at the least literate readers. T h e reason for this should be sought, perhaps, in the fact that this sector of the populationironical as this may seem in a "dictatorship of the proletariat"— is the one most removed from the mainstream of Soviet thought. Lenin's prediction to the contrary, the cooks did not become active in the affairs of state. Persons with four to five years of formal schooling—and this would include the bulk of the country's unskilled workers and peasants—read fewer books, newspapers, and magazines than any other group; they have the lowest ratio of membership in the Communist Party and the Young Communist League; they attend fewer meetings and

62

TYPES O F

EDITION

lectures; they are least familiar with the theater and the cinema; and they own fewer radios and television sets.18 One may argue, of course, that similar characteristics are found in the least educated citizens of other countries as well. Be that as it may, the fact remains that the Soviet government has relatively few opportunities to reach these people with the Communist gospel and for this reason is anxious to exploit all the potentialities of every contact with the proletarian audience. It may be for this reason that the editions of the Russian classics printed for the proletariat seem to be—to a much greater degree than those intended for other audiences—a medium of political indoctrination. T h e strong ideological bias is easily detected in the prewar list of authors and titles of books for the working masses: Tolstoy's Polikushka, Power of Darkness, and After the Ball; Turgenev's " M u m u " and selections from the Sportsman's Sketches; Chekhov's "Van'ka," "Sleepy," and "Sergeant Prishibieev"; poems by Nekrasov and Nikitin; tales by SaltykovShchedrin and Uspenskii. Until 1941 most of the o u t p u t of the publishing houses catering to the least sophisticated readers consisted of cheap paper-cover booklets containing either individual short stories, poems, or excerpts from longer works. Since the Second World W a r the central publishing house for this type of edition has been the Moscow Worker (Moskovskii rabochii), which also brings out the series T h e Collective Farmer's Library (Biblioteka kolkhoznika). An examination of a n u m b e r of volumes in this series reveals characteristics similar to those of its predecessors, the now defunct Peasant Gazette and Land and Factory. T h e majority of the Moscow Worker editions are hard-cover, and, although inexpensive, appear in printings that are, by postwar standards, quite small—usually below 100,000 copies. Much more important are the publications of the Mass Series (Massovaia seriia) of the State Publishing House. These paperback editions are frequently printed in as many as 500,000 16 See the sections on communications in Raymond Bauer, Alex Inkeles, and Clyde Kluckhohn, How the Soviet System Works (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1956).

TYPES OF EDITION

68

copies per title; they average 150 pocket-size pages and are quite inexpensive. T h e selection of titles in this series betrays a greater degree of Communist militancy than is the case in other editions for special audiences. T h e emphasis, it appears, is on those works of prerevolutionary Russian literature that fit most closely into the Party's version of Russian history. T h e 300,000 copies of Grigorovich's Anton the Hapless, a second-rate novel about peasant misfortunes before the abolition of serfdom in 1861, is a typical example; a 500,000-copy edition of Leskov's tales is another. Seven stories are included in this edition. Of these, two ("The Left-Handed Smith" and " T h e Enchanted Wanderer") could be classified broadly as fitting into the theme of glorification of Russian national characteristics; " T h e Wig Artist" attacks serfdom; " T h e Sentry" is a satire of old Prussiandrill militarism; "Robbery" is a burlesque of the old merchant class; " T h e Old Genius" ridicules Imperial judiciary red tape; and "A Slight Error" can easily be interpreted as a biting satire on the Church—the story is built around a mistaken prophecy of an inmate of an insane asylum who enjoys the reputation of a holy man. This is not to suggest that all, or even the majority, of the editions of the Russian classics destined for the least literate readers are directly related to Party policy. T h e y are, however, more partisan than the other editions. T h e special "proletarian" publishing houses flourished in the 1920s and 1930s. Since then the great majority of them have disappeared, and their places have been taken by provincial publishing houses. Until the 1930s, few Russian-language editions of the classics were published in the provinces. These included several minor items brought out by the Nizhnii Novgorod Commune (Nizhegorodskaia kommuna) in the city later renamed Gorky. T h e n , Russian-language editions of the classics began to appear simultaneously both in the national republics and in Great Russia proper. Since that time the classics have been published by some twenty-five provincial publishing houses throughout the Russian Federation—in addition to those in the capitals of the Union and autonomous republics. At different times the de-

64

TYPES OF EDITION

gree of their relative activity varies; some bring out several volumes annually, others do not publish anything for years and then unexpectedly resume their work. New publishing houses are set up in growing cities, and old ones disappear; but the total number of provincial publishing houses bringing out reprints of the classics remains quite constant. T h e reissues of classics brought out in the provinces are characterized by small printings, which would seem to indicate that they are destined exclusively for local consumption. The average postwar edition does not exceed 25,000 copies. This is very small indeed in comparison to the 300,000 or 500,000 copies that comprise the standard printing of a title in the Mass Series in Moscow. T h e prewar editions of the provincial publishing houses were even smaller, the average being 10,000 copies. T h e type of books brought out in the provinces is similar to the "proletarian" editions, indicating that the provincial publishers, too, cater to an audience of nonhabitual readers. From the point of view of content, the output of the provincial publishing houses is quite ordinary. T h e managers of these enterprises are not a very imaginative lot; in this respect they are very much like their cousins, the editors of provincial Soviet newspapers. T h e traditions of the Chekhovian "Man in a Case," or of his Soviet descendant, the perestrakhovshchik (the "play-it-safe-nik," in Brooklynese) are very strong. The timid and disciplined provincial editors parrot whatever Pravda prints the day before; the managers of the local publishing agencies bring out for the most part those works which are absolutely "safe," that is, the titles that are reprinted regularly in Moscow and Leningrad. As a matter of fact, they frequently strive to appear plus royaliste que le roi. T h e selections printed in the provinces are decidedly more "class conscious," more "Party-line," than those appearing in the capital. Strong antitsarist and anticapitalist bias was apparent in them even in those periods when such preferences were temporarily shelved by the editors of the State Publishing House in Moscow. Thus the most frequently reprinted titles—apart from such staple items as the poems of Pushkin—are very much the same as

TYPES OF EDITION

65

those that were brought out by the "proletarian" publishing houses in earlier years. T h e editions of the provincial publishing houses have, however, one characteristic that sets them apart from the other books for noneducated readers, namely, geographic appeal. Thus, the publishing houses in the Urals, in Cheliabinsk, and in Sverdlovsk, regularly bring out comparatively large printings of Mamin-Sibiriak, a native of that region, which describe the forests, factories, mines, and people of that industrial area. The Sverdlovsk publishing house even brought out two multivolume editions of selected works of Mamin-Sibiriak, a fivevolume set in the 1930s and a twelve-volume one after the war—an extremely rare occurrence in the provinces. The poems of Kol'tsov, a son of a Voronezh merchant, who described the life of local peasants, are periodically reprinted in that city. The T r u t h of Ul'ianovsk (Ul'ianovskaia pravda), published in the city of the same name (it was once called Simbirsk and was then renamed in honor of Vladimir Ul'ianov —Lenin—who was born there), also made available an edition of The Precipice, a novel set in that sleepy little city on the Volga and written by its other famous son, Goncharov. Among other works by native sons we should include Kushchevskii's little-known novel, Nikolai Negorev, or A Contented Russian, which appeared in the series T h e Literary Heritage of Siberia in Novosibirsk, and an anthology of old poetry by local talents printed in Iaroslavl'. The Western-Siberian Territorial Publishing House in Novosibirsk and the Provincial Publishing House of another Siberian city, Omsk, have also brought out books of special appeal to the local population, such as Chekhov's anthology From Siberia and Korolenko's Siberian Tales. T h e locale of the works in question must have also influenced the decision of the publishing authorities in Kuibyshev (formerly Samara) to reprint Pushkin's Captain's Daughter. And Groznyï, a major center of the oil industry in the Caucasus, brought out a collection of Tolstoy's Works about the Caucasus. The replacement of the "proletarian" publishing houses by enterprises printing for local consumption coincided with the

66

TYPES OF EDITION

shifting of emphasis in Soviet propaganda from internationalist to patriotic themes. The rather abstract slogans of the world brotherhood of toilers were gradually replaced by appeals to sentiments of national, and regional, pride and gratitude to the Soviet regime for real and imagined improvements in the life of the people. T h e publication of selected authors and titles among the Russian classics in the provinces was thus in accord with the new policy. Local patriotism was appeased by the publication of works of native sons or works set in specific regions. There are no reasons to doubt the effectiveness of this approach. Instead of generalized descriptions, readers were offered specific examples by which they could judge the comparative merits of serfdom and capitalism as opposed to the Soviet system. A work of Mamin-Sibiriak published in Sverdlovsk was likely to evoke greater response, since it described the horrors of prerevolutionary industry in the vicinity of that very city—hardships endured perhaps by the reader's own grandfather. T h e progress achieved under the Soviet regime could thus be verified on the spot. A similar effect was likely to be achieved, for example, by the publication in Voronezh of Kol'tsov's poetry. Naturally, this was only one of several possible reasons—some of them financial—for the decision to publish selected works of prerevolutionary Russian literature in the provinces. But there can be little doubt that this was one of the leading motives. Some support for this belief can be found in a curious report (printed in Izvestiia on January 10, 1938) of the observances of the sixtieth anniversary of Nekrasov's death in the poet's native village: Particularly memorable observances of the Nekrasov days took place in the village of Nekrasovo (formerly Greshnevo). Special soirées dedicated to the memory of the great poet of the Russian people took place on January 7 and 8. More than 400 collective farmers gathered on January 8 in the Nekrasov Collective Farm Club, which has a capacity of 250. Comrade A. S. Basov, chairman of the Nekrasov Collective Farm, declared amidst the loud applause of all assembled: "What if Nikolai Alekseevich [Nekrasov] asked us, 'How are things with grain? How is the livestock situation?' This is what we would tell him: 'Everything is OK, Nikolai Alekseevich.

TYPES OF EDITION

67

We've got plenty of grain, potatoes, meat, and other food. Take, for instance, the family of the ordinary collective farmer Artemov. In the past they used to go hungry and barefoot. In 1937 they earned in the collective farm 4,600 pounds of grain, 22,000 pounds of potatoes, 5,400 pounds of forage, and 500 rubles in cash. All collective farmers were provided for in the same way.' " EDITIONS FOR CHILDREN

If most of the reading done by adults is selected by them more or less freely, children read what they are told to read or what they are allowed to read. And since youngsters must be taught to appreciate great literature, they are directed toward the masterpieces of ages gone by. As a result, throughout the Western world one finds a puzzling picture in many homes: children making an effort to read the great classics, which are much too difficult for them, sitting in the living room side by side with their parents who are reading popular novels and primitive thrillers, which—apart from their emphasis on violence and sex—are more than sufficiently simple to be read by children. The USSR is no exception, save for the fact that parents read few thrillers—mainly, perhaps, because there are so few thrillers available. As for the literary masterpieces of the past, these form a large part of the school curriculum, and young people between the ages of eight and eighteen constitute perhaps the largest group of readers of the Russian classics in the USSR. T o be correct, some of them should be classified as captive readers, for they read the classics because they need the passing grade in the Russian course. These young people may have as little love for Pushkin and Chekhov as many of their French counterparts do for Corneille and Racine, or English-speaking children for Shakespeare and Shelley. Not a few of the assignments in the Soviet secondary schools appear in literature textbooks and anthologies (khrestomatii) that are published by the ministries o£ education of the various republics. Anthologies that are teaching aids will not be considered here. Our concern is limited to those books that Soviet youngsters are likely to read of their own free will, outside and beyond the school curriculum. Editions of Russian classics for juvenile readers began to

68

TYPES O F

EDITION

be published during the first months of the Soviet regime. Indeed, in the early postrevolutionary years their publication was one of the main activities of the People's Commissariat of Education. In the 1920s there were no special Russian-language editions of the classics for children and adolescents, except a limited number that were printed by privately owned publishing houses, many of which were still in existence during that period. T h e printing of children's editions by the state was resumed in the early 1930s. At present there are several publishing houses devoted exclusively to juvenile books, including children's editions of the Russian classics. The largest of these is the State Publishing House of Children's Literature (Gosudarstvennoe Izdatel'stvo Detskoi Literatury), known under the abbreviated name of Detizdat. Detizdat is a huge enterprise. In 1933 it brought out a total of 168 titles, with an overall printing of 7,744,000 copies. By 1940 these figures increased to 309 titles and 21,920,000 copies.17 This would mean roughly two books annually for every young Russian-speaking reader, exclusive of textbooks. T h e second largest producer of juvenile books is the Young Guard (Molodaia gvardiia), the official publishing house of the Young Communist League. There are also some smaller ones, such as the Pioneer (Pioner) in Leningrad; the Moscow Province Committee for Extracurricular Activities (Moskovskii obkom vneshkol'noi raboty); the Educational Textbook Publishing House (Uchebno-pedagogicheskoe izdatel'stvo, abbreviated as Uchpedgiz), which also prints many books, including classics, in Braille. Then there are, of course, the books for children published in the non-Russian languages of the Soviet Union. Some of the largest national republics even have special children's publishing houses of their own. Arguing from the rationale proposed earlier as a possible explanation for the large degree of ideological impartiality in the selection of works included in editions for intellectual readers and for the strong ideological bias apparent in the "proletarian" editions, one would expect the editions for juve17 Bol'shaia sovetskaia

entsiklopediia,

2d ed., XVI (1952), 389.

TYPES

OF

69

EDITION

nile readers to bear much similarity to the latter. This, however, is not the case. In the 1920s and early 1930s, a strong antitsarist and anticapitalist bias was manifested in children's editions of the classics by the preponderance of such radical authors as Nekrasov and Saltykov-Shchedrin, supplemented by carefully chosen works of Chekhov, Tolstoy, Turgenev, and Pushkin, all of which were selected for their educational and ideological value. It can be asserted, however, that since then, from the political point of view, Soviet children have been presented with a very impartial selection of the Russian classics. Indeed, it seems probable that, unlike their elders, Russian children would be offered more or less the same selection of the Russian classics if the book market were governed exclusively by the laws of supply and demand. For purposes of illustration one may examine the output of five children's favorites in Russia: the fairy tales of Pushkin, the fables of Krylov, the short stories of Chekhov, the tales of Mamin-Sibiriak, and Ershov's poem The Humpback Pony. By adding up all the Russian-language editions of these works published between 1918 and 1941 by Detizdat and the Young Guard—hence those destined specifically for young and very young readers—and dividing the results by 23, we get the following average prewar annual output: Pushkin's fairy tales Krylov's fables Chekhov's short stories Mamin-Sibiriak's tales Ershov's Humpback Pony

Copies 220,000 200,000 110,000 50,000 40,000

It must be remembered that these works are also published in many millions of copies in editions destined for adults and that most of them are also readily within the reach of juvenile readers; in addition, many of these works are reproduced in the millions of copies of anthologies for school use. Unfortunately, in the absence of reliable statistics, no comparison is possible with the publication of these works in Imperial Russia. In any case, there can be no doubt that any survey of readers'

7o

TYPES OF

EDITION

preferences would confirm the attraction of Russian children to these works. Reviewing the list of children's editions of nineteenth-century Russian authors, one notices an unusually large selection of names. In the later 1930s we see among them not only the rarely reprinted D. V. Grigorovich, Zhukovskii, and N. GarinMikhailovskii, but even such right-wing writers as Sergei Aksakov, Leskov, and Dostoyevsky, whose books were but very infrequently published for adult readers. True, these "reactionary" authors were represented by their least "harmful" works: The Childhood of Bagrov's Grandson, The Sentry, and The House of the Dead. But it so happens that these works are also the ones that are of greatest interest to children. After all, Cathedral Folk or The Brothers Karamazov are hardly ideal reading matter for fourteen-year-olds, though the latter may be only slightly less appropriate than The House of the Dead, which is by no means a "juvenile" novel. Still, the question remains why any books by these authors were made available to children. It would not have been too difficult to refrain from publishing these authors altogether, explaining to the more inquisitive student that these are writers of no great literary merit—which would be well in accordance with their evaluations in Soviet literature textbooks, where articles on Dostoyevsky are frequently printed in small type, as are those on second- and third-rate authors. It would not have been too difficult to make young people forget that such suspect authors ever existed—a procedure that has been applied quite successfully over a period of many years in the case of Russian writers of the first two decades of the twentieth century (the Symbolists, the "Decadents," and the émigrés, Bunin included). 18 18 Former Soviet citizens interviewed in Germany in 1950 by the expedition of Harvard University's Russian Research Center seemed quite unaware of the existence of these writers. Not one among them reported reading any of the wellknown poets and novelists of the twenty years before the Revolution. See Maurice Friedberg, "Russian Writers and Soviet Readers," The American Slavic and East European Review, XIV, No. 1 (February, 1955), 108-21. The current limited revival of Alexander Blok, Valerli Briusov, and some of the other authors of that period is not extended to any of the émigrés, with the exception of Kuprin, who returned to the USSR and died there, and of Bunin, Russia's only Nobel Prize winner for literature before Pasternak, who died in France after the war.

TYPES OF EDITION

71

It seems possible that the Soviet publishing authorities have run a smaller risk in offering these authors to children than they would have if they had made them available to adults. Because of their youth and exclusively Soviet education, children could be safely entrusted with reading certain works of Leskov, Aksakov, and Dostoyevsky. Unlike their parents, children do not pay attention to labels. They are far less interested in the author's reputation than in the story itself; and it is unlikely that many juvenile readers follow the politically orientated evaluations of the classics in the Soviet literary journals. They are likely to be unaware of the fact that Leskov's views were not altogether "progressive," that the name of Aksakov is synonymous with the prerevolutionary brand of Slavophilism, and that Dostoyevsky in his other works championed the ideals of the Orthodox faith and of stubborn individualism. T o children acquainted only with the selected works of these authors, Leskov, Aksakov, and Dostoyevsky are just three more unfamiliar names —one of them the author of a funny little story about old tsarist officers, the other a good-natured raconteur of childhood reminiscences, and the third a chronicler of the horrors of prerevolutionary prisons. Besides, children usually read literature "superficially," noticing little more than the plot itself. How many juvenile readers discover the ideological implications of Robinson Crusoe? How many realize that Gulliver's Travels was meant to be a social satire? T h e fact that the less sophisticated reader—and particularly the young reader—is interested in the "story" rather than in the philosophical overtones of the great novels is evident from the film adaptations of the Russian classics made in the West. The prewar French film of Crime and Punishment and the British one of Anna Karenina, as well as the more recent American productions of War and Peace and Brothers Karamazov, would raise few serious objections of an ideological nature in a Communist-ruled country—indeed, War and Peace was shown in 1960 in "Stalinist" Czechoslovakia. All It is not unlikely that within several years Soviet authorities may publish two other anti-Communist émigré Russian authors, Mark Aldanov and Alexei Remizov, both of whom died in 1957. There is no likelihood, however, that any of the living émigrés will be published in the Soviet Union.

72

TYPES OF EDITION

of these films concentrate heavily on the elements of crime, passion, and adventure, that is, those ingredients of the novels that would interest the average movie-goer, and omit the moralizing and philosophical passages. Nevertheless, at first one finds it somewhat difficult to understand why children and adolescents should be singled out as recipients of any ideologically "neutral" selection of the classics. Why should the Soviet authorities miss such an excellent opportunity for the ideological indoctrination of young people? T h e answer to this question is to be sought first of all in the fact that works by nineteenth-century Russian authors constitute only a small part of the young readers' literary diet. In addition to the significant percentage of foreign literature in translation (both the old "entertaining" authors such as Jack London, Jules Verne, Mark Twain, and Walter Scott, and the "didactic" works by modern left-wing writers), juvenile readers are offered a very large amount of modern Soviet fiction to read in their spare time. Let us glance again at the publishing statistics for the two sample years, 1933 and 1940, which were mentioned earlier in this chapter to illustrate the increase in the output of the State Publishing House of Children's Literature (Detizdat). In 1933 the total number of copies brought out by Detizdat was 7,744,000. T h e average Detizdat output of the Russian classics in 1930-33 was 675,000 copies per annum; thus, the classics accounted for only 9 percent of the total production. By 1940 the over-all output of Detizdat rose to 21,920,000 copies, including 3,390,000 copies of the classics, or, approximately, 15 percent—a significant increase over the 1933 figure, but still small in comparison with the tremendous preponderance of the classics in the reading diet of the adult population. Although this trend continued after the Second World War, it is still true that children read much more of Soviet literature on their own than do the adults. Many best-selling Soviet writers of past and present (Samuil Marshak, Alexander Fadeev, Nikolai Ostrovskii, Konstantin Paustovskii, and Sergei Mikhalkov, to mention but a few) wrote especially for children and adoles-

TYPES OF EDITION

73

cents. There is also an extensive system of children's theaters. In contrast to the selection of the Russian classics for children, Soviet juvenile literature, whether in the form of books or plays, is clearly designed to serve as a medium of Communist education. 19 Further, it should be remembered that the great majority of readers between the ages of eight and eighteen are students and therefore in closer contact with the Soviet propaganda apparatus than even the older intellectual readers. These children and young people can be reached either through their teachers and textbooks or through the Pioneer and Young Communist League organizations. The necessary ideological message can be successfully transmitted to adolescent audiences at student meetings and in the classrooms, not least in the courses dealing with nineteenth-century Russian literature, in which students receive a thorough Communist evaluation of the classics. These may be some of the reasons why young people in the USSR receive a comparatively impartial selection of the Russian classics. Perhaps the Soviet authorities feel that the amount of indoctrination received by them at other times is fully sufficient; perhaps they realize that boys and girls cannot be taught all the time, that they also need some pure entertainment; perhaps they believe that familiarity with a large cross-section of the classics is imperative if the young generation is to receive a good education. Meanwhile children and adolescents in the USSR get the works of the old masters in great variety and quantity. RUSSIAN-LANGUAGE EDITIONS FOR THE MINORITIES

Since the Soviet constitution provides that all ethnic cultures are to be "national in form and socialist in content," the nonRussian readers in the USSR get a literary fare basically similar to that offered to the Great Russians. Thus, in addition to works by native authors, the non-Russians get translations of all of the better-known Soviet Russian writers as well as foreign and Russian classics. Most Western authorities accept the Soviet 18 See, e.g., Gene Sosin, "The Children's Theater and Drama in Soviet Education," in Ernest J. Simmons, ed., Through the Glass of Soviet Literature (New York: Columbia University Press, 1953), pp. 159-200.

74

TYPES OF EDITION

claim that printing in non-Russian languages is a manifestation of the Soviet policy of linguistic pluralism as contrasted with Imperial Russia's suppression of the cultures of the national minorities. Actually, as can be seen from Table 2 in Appendix A, the ratio of non-Russian books to Russian ones is constantly decreasing. In fact, at present it is smaller than it was under the old regime. In 1893 non-Russian books constituted approximately 25 percent of the total number of titles and 20 percent of the copies. In 1957 the corresponding figures were 24 percent and 15 percent. A serious effort has been made over the years to bring masterpieces of literature to the many peoples of the USSR. As Table 16 in Appendix D indicates, the Russian classics have been translated into the many languages of the USSR. There can be little doubt that the translations of the Russian classics contributed to a rise in the general cultural level of the national minorities; but they were also a factor in the gradual Russification of these minorities. In this respect they may have played a role not too unlike that of the foreign-language press in the United States. Originally designed to acquaint the immigrant population with the customs of the new country, foreign-language newspapers became their own grave-diggers. They stimulated interest in the language of the new country and intensified the process of the immigrants' assimilation into American life in general. Thus the translation of Russian books into the languages of the non-Russian peoples might have in itself contributed to the propagation of Russian as the lingua franca for the many nationalities inhabiting the USSR and to the over-all Russification of the national minorities. Indeed, there is reason to believe that the Soviet authorities disseminated these translations to intensify this process. Up to the mid-1930s, that is, u p to the years when the Party line began to shift from a more or less strict adherence to the doctrine of equality of all ethnic traditions to the propagation and glorification of things Russian, no effort was made to facilitate the reading of the Russian classics in the original by nonRussians. T h e non-Russians could, if they cared to, read the standard reprints of the classics published in Moscow. T h e only

TYPES OF EDITION

75

exception was made for non-Russian school children, who received, as they still do, special editions of anthologies and individual works of Russian writers that differ from the ordinary ones by the presence of accent marks and more extensive glossaries of unfamiliar terms. Since about 1935 Book Annals has been registering Russianlanguage editions of the classics published in the various national republics by the local branches of the State Publishing House. As in the case of the provincial publishing houses of the Russian Republic, it is unlikely that their output was destined for export—both types of edition are characterized by emphasis on the geographic appeal. Among the classics most frequently published in the Russian language for non-Russian readers are those in which the old author demonstrates compassion and understanding for a particular non-Russian nationality. In most cases, such works are issued by the publishing house in the area where the work will strike the most sympathetic chord. Thus the Caucasian publishing houses (in Baku, Tbilisi, and Piatigorsk) seem to "specialize" in Tolstoy's Khadzhi Murat and in the works of Lermontov, particularly Ashik Kerib and A Hero of Our Time. All of these works are set in the Caucasus and contain attractive portrayals of native peoples and customs. More interesting is the publication of 40,000 copies of short stories by Korolenko in Izhevsk, the capital of the Udmurt Autonomous Republic. For the 600,000 Udmurts living in the Soviet Union this was certainly a very large printing, especially of a book in Russian. The impact of the book, it appears, was not so much in its contents as in its author: there could scarcely be a more effective way of stressing the theme of friendship for the Russian people than issuing the works of a man who before the Revolution literally saved the Udmurt people, then unjustly accused of being cannibals. The strong antitsarist and anticapitalist bias that is characteristic of the editions of the classics brought out by the provincial publishing houses is also much in evidence in the output of the publishing enterprises of the national republics. Timidity was suggested earlier as the possible explanation for the fact that

176

TYPES OF

EDITION

the managers of the provincial publishing houses favor this type of classic. In the case of the editions for the national minorities another motivation is likely. Writings describing the sufferings of the Russian peasants, townsfolk, and soldiers before 1917 might encourage the Tatar, Belorussian, Uzbek, Turkmen, or Azerbaidzhanian reader to arrive at the conclusion that the Russians before the Revolution were not a master race, but comrades in misery who suffered equally with the nonRussians from the regime of serfdom and capitalism—just as at present the Russians are represented as not the ruling nationality in the Union, but only the biggest brother in the Soviet family of equal nations. It is thus possible that the Russian classics serve indirectly the purpose of dissociating—in the minds of non-Russians—the Russian people from the colonialism of the tsarist government. This motivation might also help to account for the conspicuous absence of the theme of Russian nationalism in these editions at a time when the standard Russian reprints emphasized it. Thus, neither on the eve of the Second World War nor after it do we find among the editions for non-Russians the then widely reprinted Tolstoy's Tales of Sevastopol and chapters from War and Peace, or Lermontov's "Borodino," or the patriotic tales of Leskov.20 Russian-language editions of the classics for non-Russian audiences have been published at one time or another in most of the national republics. Among these are areas as distant from each other as the Mordvinian, Tadzhik, Dagestani, Bashkir, Armenian, and the former Crimean Tatar republics. Before 1941 the most important publishing enterprise of this type was located in Tashkent, the capital of the Uzbek Republic in Central Asia and a large center of the Turkic-speaking population in the USSR. The intentions of the authorities were made obvious by the inscription which appeared on every 20 T h e same policy of avoiding those Russian classics which might hurt the national pride of the local population and revive bitter memories of tsarist oppression was scrupulously observed in postwar Poland. Thus works with an open anti-Polish bias (e.g., certain writings of Dostoyevsky and, of course, Gogol's Taras Bul'ba) were never brought out in the period from 1945 to 1958. See Maurice Friedberg, "Russian Literature in Postwar Poland: 1945-1958," The Polish Review, IV, No. 1-2 (Winter-Spring, 1959), 33-46.

TYPES OF

EDITION

77

book of this series: "An Aid for Those Who Study Russian" (F pomoshch' izuchaiushchim russkii iazyk). In the postwar years the emphasis was shifted to the newly annexed territories. The most active publishing houses among those producing Russian-language editions of the classics for non-Russian readers were in Riga, the capital of Latvia, Tallin, the capital of Estonia, and Petrozavodsk, the capital of what was then the Karelo-Finnish union republic but has recently been demoted to the status of an autonomous republic and renamed "Karelian." Some Russian books have also appeared in L'vov (Lwów), which before 1939 was part of Poland. All of these areas, it appears, were singled out for more rapid Russification and general assimilation into Soviet culture. The editions destined for the non-Russian audiences vary somewhat in their make-up from those printed for Russian readers. The former frequently provide explanations of the less familiar Russian idioms; in certain cases, when the original text as a whole seems too difficult for a person whose native tongue is not Russian, the book is rewritten in simpler Russian. Before the war this was the practice of the Azerbaidzhán State Publishing House in Baku. 21 There were also several editions with parallel texts in Russian and the local language; such books were printed, for example, in the Udmurt republic. Finally, the publishing houses in the national republics that bring out Russian-language editions of the classics are also guided by the specific literary tastes of their readers. The Central Asian and Caucasian publishers print much of the Russian classical literature of adventure, war, and intrigue, one of the favorites being Pushkin's Dubrovskii. They also print books with what a Turkic reader would consider exotic locale, such as Mamin-Sibiriak's Winter on Studënaia River, a tale about an old man and his dog spending the winter in the sub-Arctic taiga. The publishing houses in the Caucasus also print a dispropor21 Occasionally, Russian classics are condensed and simplified in editions for Russian children, for example, N. S. Leskov, Chelovek na chasakh (The Sentry), condensed text for children (Moscow and Leningrad: Detizdat, 1927), 200,300 copies—one of the largest at that time. Comic strips and book digests are unknown in Russia, and Soviet citizens scoff at this American practice as a manifestation of barbarism.

78

T Y P E S OF

EDITION

tionately large number of editions of Pushkin's fairy tales and Krylov's fables, which are undoubtedly in keeping with local tastes. Riddles, fables, and fairy tales are tremendously popular in the Near East, and their narration on the radio captivates millions of adult listeners.22 Antireligious propaganda is one of the constantly recurring features of Soviet publishing. Antireligious bias of varying degrees of intensity is apparent at all periods in the publishing of the Russian classics, with the possible exception of the years 1942-45. It is especially noticeable in the one- or two-volume selections of classics published for the general reader by the State Publishing House and in the Mass Series destined for the least sophisticated audiences. Criticism of the organized Church and the clergy and professions of atheism and agnosticism on the part of a prerevolutionary writer are as a rule magnified both in evaluations of his work and in the selections from his writings. This results in the inclusion in the one-volume editions of almost everything that would tend to substantiate the thesis of the prerevolutionary writer's antireligious sentiments, in spite of the fact that in many cases the antireligious verses or short stories are far from being really representative of the classical writer's works and thought. Thus, in a one-volume selection of Pushkin one is almost certain to encounter "The Tale of the Parson and of His Man Balda" or "Gavriliada"; in an anthology of Saltykov-Shchedrin it will be The Boys; in Chekhov, "Surgery," and so forth. In addition, special anthologies of fiction (from Russian and other literatures) ridiculing religion and the clergy are brought out from time to time by various publishing outlets. There is reason to believe that these effectively illustrated editions enjoy 22 In Outer Mongolia the most popular book has been Jack London's The Call of the Wild—"it was often copied out in longhand." Other favorites have been Aesop, Andersen, A Thousand and One Nights, Maupassant, Poe, Verne, H. G. Wells and Swift. Among the Russian writers, the favorites have been Chekhov, the fabulist Krylov, and Pushkin—the latter for his fairy tales, his Captain's Daughter, and his Tales of Belkin. "Although Tolstoy's War and Peace was translated into Mongolian, his Anna Karenina was not. A film of the latter work, with Mongolian subtitles, once played in Mongolia and was a dismal failure, for the audience completely failed to understand it." See John R. Krueger, "The Impact of Russian and Western Literature on Mongolia," The Slavic and East European Journal, XVII, No. 1 (Spring, 1959), 25-34.

TYPES OF EDITION

79

great popularity among young people, since they frequently include such piquant fare as the tales of Rabelais and Boccaccio, some of Balzac's Droll Stories, and certain poems of Heine. These tales of romantic escapades of monks and priests are almost the only type of erotic literature printed in the USSR, and they are in all probability much more effective as antireligious propaganda than the "scientific" arguments found in The Agitator's Notebook. T h e All-Union Society of Militant Atheists, the publisher of the magazine Bezbozhnik (The Godless), which was suspended on the eve of the war, also operated a publishing house of the same name. Most of its output consisted of translated Western European authors and new Soviet writings. T h e only Russian classic brought out under its aegis was a condensed version of Saltykov-Shchedrin's Golovlëv Family. T h e Anti-Religious Library of Fiction (Anti-religioznaia khudozhestvennaia biblioteka) of the Young Communist League's publishing house, the Young Guard, also neglected the Russian classics. It printed only Uspenskii's Friday and a booklet of four poems by Pushkin: "The Monk," "Tale of the Parson," "Gavriliada," and " T o V. L. Davydov." And the Anti-Religious Library of the Military Publishing House (Voenizdat) came out as late as 1940 with a volume of carefully selected short stories of Chekhov. T h e Military Publishing House and the Naval Publishing House (Voenmorizdat), which bring out, for the most part, manuals and technical books on military topics, also publish works of fiction that are considered appropriate reading for Soviet soldiers and officers. These are largely works dealing with the heroic feats of the Soviet army in battle and its vigilance in peacetime. But there are also some which provide the Soviet soldiers with illustrations of the Leninist theory dividing wars into just (class wars and wars of national liberation) and unjust ones ("imperialist" wars), thus underscoring the basic differences between the allegedly demoralized capitalist soldier and his upright Soviet counterpart. This helps to explain the paradox of having the Soviet army publish such virulently antimilitaristic novels as Erich-Marie Remarque's All Quiet on the Western Front and Jaroslav Hasek's Good Soldier Schweik.

8o

TYPES OF EDITION

In the late 1930s Voenizdat and Voenmorizdat inaugurated a series of reprints of the Russian classics. The step was synchronized with the official revival of Great Russian patriotism. From then on the Imperial Russian army was no longer represented as just another predatory force but as an ancestor of the Soviet army. In the selection of the classics for the armed forces the greatest stress was on works that described the heroism of the old Russian army; as was mentioned in Chapter III, on the eve of the war the Military Publishing House brought out Tolstoy's Tales of Sevastopol and separate reprints of two battle scenes from War and Peace ("Borodino" and "Schöngraben"). Tolstoy's After the Ball, a great favorite in the earlier years of Soviet publishing, or Kuprin's Duel, both of which expose the cruel drill of the tsarist army, were not, so far as could be ascertained, included in the series. The Military Publishing House did publish, however, Chekhov's "Sergeant Prishibeev" and Garshin's Officer and Orderly—probably to remind the Soviet soldier that the Soviet army is much more enlightened and humane. After the war there was, among others, an edition of a rarely republished work, Bestuzhev-Marlinskii's Lieutenant Belozor, an anthology entitled The Sea in Russian Poetry, some fables of Krylov, and verse by Lermontov. Unfortunately, no information is available on the size of the editions for the troops, since such data are considered of strategic value and are not reported in Soviet statistics.

ν Official Attitudes toward the Russian Classics T h e 1918 decree whereby the Russian classics were declared national property was to remain in force for a period of five years. As already suggested, this provision might have been intended to placate certain members of the intelligentsia who were opposed to the nationalization of the nation's literary heritage. But it is also possible that the inclusion of the time limitation had something to do with the uncertainty on the part of the Soviet authorities regarding the future position of bourgeois Russian literature in the proletarian Russian state. It was felt, perhaps, that the five-year period would prove sufficient to bring to the masses masterpieces of literature of the past, and that meanwhile the world's first workers' and peasants' republic would create a new literature of its own that would gradually supplement and later even replace the classics. Careful study of publishing in the early postrevolutionary period suggests that it is not impossible that certain official quarters hoped that the new nation would, in time, "outgrow" the classics with their dubious ideology. In the early years of the regime it was not unusual for Soviet critics to declare one or another author of the past obsolete and to argue that he had little to offer the modern Soviet reader. Thus, Lebedev-Polianskii wrote in 1927 that the 1918 decision to print even "authors of little interest to our times, such as Krylov and Zhukovskii" was prompted primarily by the desire to prevent unemployment in the printing trade. 1 In 1 Poliamkii, "Nachalo sovetskikh izdatel'stv," p. 236.

82

OFFICIAL ATTITUDES

1929 the Little Soviet Encyclopedia stressed the serious ideological limitations of the fabulist: He [Krylov] is weak when he deals with broad, important ideas, such as the meaning of life, problems of science, freedom. . . . He had no faith in science and technology ("The Mechanic"), he defended religion ("The Godless"), he preached that freedom is harmful to the people ("The Horse and the Rider").2 Two years later the Literary Encyclopedia warned that the ultraconservative Krylov must not be used in Soviet schools as a moralist and educator. 3 It also belittled the value of Korolenko and Leskov: Korolenko's works, which grew out of an atmosphere of reaction that exerted pressure on progressive circles . . . and which are permeated with motifs of reconciliation and unity outside of classes, have in our days only historical significance.4 In our time, when the roman à thèse, which puts into the foreground the sociopolitical tasks of socialist construction is on the rise, interest in Leskov, who is alien to the leading tendencies of Soviet literature, inevitably declines.5 T h e Literary Encyclopedia turned out to be a poor prophet. Today it is obvious that the Soviet romans à thèse that glorify Soviet construction projects have failed to displace even the lesser Russian classics from their position of popularity with the reading public. But it cannot be said that the Soviet authorities have failed to make a sufficient effort in that direction. For many years, even while the classics were being reprinted and distributed, Soviet criticism concentrated on pointing out to Soviet readers the intellectual and ideological limitations of the old writers and simultaneously extolled the virtues of modern Soviet writing. It appears, however, that the authorities have gradually come to realize the truth of the observation candidly formulated by Ilya Ehrenburg in a post-Stalin article: "After their death, anybody can swear by the great writers in any manner he wants to." 6 2 Malata sovetskaia entsiklopediia, IV (1929), 393. 3 Literaturnaia entsiklopediia, V (1931), 695. 4 Ibid., V (1931), 497. δ Ibid., VI (1932), 318-19. eil'ia Erenburg, "Uroki Stendalia" (The Lessons of Stendhal), Inostrannaia literatura (Foreign Literature), No. 6 (June, 1957), p. 203.

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

83

While the effort to create a new Soviet literature has never slackened, increasing emphasis has been placed on the assimilation of the classics into the organism of Soviet culture. And indeed, in a country as strongly attached to her literary heritage as Russia, the regime could reap great benefits if it succeeded in convincing the population that it alone was the rightful heir of the humanist traditions of that literature. Since the mid1930s Soviet criticism of the Russian classics has concentrated on claiming the classics for the Soviet cause. An attempt is thus being made to identify the Soviet regime with all that is noble and beautiful in Russia's culture of the past, to appropriate the great writers and poets as its spiritual ancestors, to turn the edge of prerevolutionary Russian literature against the regime's enemies, both foreign and domestic, to claim kinship with the heroes of the old literary masterpieces, and to hurl the names of their villains at the opponents of the Soviet state. T h e custom of swearing by the old writers is an ancient one in Russia. T h e names of characters from many of the Russian classics are household words and are used in everyday speech, particularly to enrich its picturesque quality. In particular, polemical writing in Russia is unthinkable without reference to the great classics. Among those who have invoked these literary images and appealed to the moral authority of their creators were both Lenin and Stalin. Thus at various times the Soviet regime made use of Saltykov-Shchedrin to fight its enemies: The revolutionary character of Shchedrin's satire was manifested in the fact that it played a tremendous role in the struggle of the revolutionary working class against its enemies—against the Kadets, liberals, Mensheviks, liquidationists, Trotskyites, and so forth.7 T h e Russian classics, and in particular the works of the satirists, could be—and occasionally were—directed with equal effectiveness against Lenin and Stalin by their opponents. According to Jonathan Swift's definition in the preface to The Battle of the Books, "Satire is a sort of a glass wherein beholders do generally discover everybody's face but their own, which is the chief reason for that kind reception it meets with in the world." 1 Μ. E. Saltykov-Shchedrin,

p. 4.

84

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

WRITERS, READERS, AND PREACHERS

Some of the methods whereby the Soviet authorities attempt to influence the potential impact of the Russian classics on Soviet readers have been discussed in preceding chapters. There is, first of all, the process of selection of authors and titles. On the whole, the Soviet public has been well supplied with a wide variety of the better-known works of prerevolutionary Russian fiction. At one time or another nearly all of these have been brought out in the Soviet Union. The selection has become even more varied since Stalin's death, when a number of hitherto neglected authors—notably Dostoyevsky—were again offered to the public. Furthermore, certain works are printed in limited editions while others appear in millions of copies. T o an extent, of course, this is dictated by considerations of a commercial nature. But the final decision on the size of printings is the Soviet publishing authorities' alone, and this decision is frequently swayed by considerations of a political nature. Perhaps since Stalin's death these have been somewhat neglected, since one Tikhon Semushkin appealed in Literaturnaia gazeta of January 15, 1959, for the creation of a "competent ideological center—as distinct from a commercial center—to promulgate policies with regard to the size of printings." There are thousands of Russian books that have been out of print for many years and have not been reprinted, even though the demand for them is obvious. Writing in Literaturnaia gazeta of March 14, 1959, S. Polivanovskii divulged that on a typical day 120,000 of the 250,000 persons who visited Moscow bookstores bought nothing, since they could not find the books they wanted, while Mosknigotorg (Moscow Book Trading Company) reported that one fourth of the half-million mail requests for books it received in 1958 had to be answered "out of print." As for the Russian classics, the market seems never to have reached the point of saturation. Occasionally one reads statements in the Soviet press to the effect that some books do not sell and are returned from bookstores to warehouses. As far as can be ascertained, Soviet bookstores never have experienced any difficulties in selling Russian classics, no matter how large the

OFFICIAL ATTITUDES

85

printings. On February 17, 1954, Vecherniaia Moskva (Evening Moscow) reported the existence of a flourishing black market in books. Speculators, it seems, buy up new editions of Russian and Western classics and then resell them at exorbitant prices. More recently (March, 1959), the journal Moskva (Moscow) revealed that semilegal traders in books were doing a brisk business in the lobby of the Moscow Art Theater. According to Welles Hangen, then the Moscow correspondent of the New York Times, in 1956, subscriptions to the multivolume editions of the Russian classics were "almost as difficult to get as an invitation to the Kremlin." 8 And finally, there are the prefaces, postscripts, footnotes, commentaries, forewords, biographies, and explanatory notes that have been added to Soviet editions of the Russian classics. There can be little doubt that, to an extent, the forewords and commentaries included in these editions fill a real need. T h e average Soviet reader may not be familiar with the period described in the old novel or drama, and a foreword may supply the necessary historical setting. It usually offers some background material concerning the author himself, as well as pertinent data on historical figures, events, and mores that will help the reader to understand the book more fully. Further, many of these critical studies are written by highly competent literary scholars, and the Soviet reader may find in them a wealth of penetrating observations that will increase his esthetic appreciation of the classics. But above all, literary criticism in the USSR serves as a vehicle for political discussion. In the early days of the regime —and even at the present time—some rather daring ideas have been expressed under the guise of this criticism; and conversely, Party dignitaries frequently see fit to clothe their political pronouncements in the form of literary essays; in this respect they are somewhat reminiscent of addresses at commencement exercises in American universities. For example, the period of terror in the last years of Stalin's life began in 1946 with Zhdanov's articles on two literary periodicals. T h e post-Stalin 8 Welles Hangen, "A Letter from Moscow," New York Times Book June 10, 1956, p. 4.

Review,

86

OFFICIAL ATTITUDES

"liberalization" was perhaps most eloquently illustrated in the tenor of a number of works of fiction and in the tone of some items of literary criticism. T h e end of "liberalization" appears to have been heralded by Khrushchev's 1957 articles on literature. A careful study of Soviet literary criticism, including the evaluations of the classics, would permit one to discern nuances of political discussion that are not likely to appear in the daily press. Soviet literary criticism, while generally dull and extremely repetitious, makes politically much more stimulating reading than Pravda or Kommunist. On the whole, however, Soviet evaluations of the Russian classics are not very interesting. The unimaginative character of the large bulk of the popular Soviet evaluations of the classics is due to the absence of real controversy or of iconoclasm; for the most part it is uniformly respectable and somewhat tedious. There are, of course, differences of opinion among various critics, particularly as seen in the excellent monographs included in the multivolume editions or published independently. T h e sheer volume of, say, Pushkin or Tolstoy scholarship, would make complete unanimity impossible. But the differences among the critics are largely confined to a limited number of problems of esthetic judgment and methodology. In matters of relevance to politics the divergence of opinion is rarely very important. It is for this reason that only three representative authors will be discussed at any length: the "progressive" Nekrasov, the "neutral" Lermontov, and the "reactionary" Leskov. Extensive research has demonstrated the futility of repeating the thousands of quotations in which, at given periods of Soviet history, nearly identical opinions have been expressed by different Soviet critics regarding the different authors of the past. T h e evaluations of Nekrasov are very similar to those of the equally "progressive" Saltykov-Shchedrin; the evaluations of Lermontov are not too unlike those of Goncharov and Turgenev; and the appraisals of Leskov resemble those of Dostoyevsky or Pisemskii. T h e striking similarity of opinions held by the hundreds of Soviet critics offers convincing proof that these opinions are inspired by a single source—the Party. At any

OFFICIAL ATTITUDES

87

one period the parts of the evaluations of a particular writer that have a bearing on ideology differ from each other almost exclusively only in their style and comprehensiveness. T h e y may use simple sentences or complex ones; their vocabulary may be limited or rich. They may aim at semiliterates or at the most sophisticated readers. T h e y may be dogmatic or attempt to argue their case. But their ideas are as repetitious as are the contents of hundreds of Soviet newspapers. Indeed, were it not for the truism that an idea gets across easier if it is repeated again and again—a fact recognized in the old Russian saying povtorenie mat' ucheniia ("repetition is the mother of learning's—one would find it difficult to explain why so many articles on the Russian classics are written by so many different critics, why there is so much wasteful duplication. In fact, at any particular period there is so much repetition in the evaluations of different classics that the less sophisticated reader might actually arrive at the conclusion that all these great nineteenth-century writers present—both artistically and ideologically—a homogeneous group. For example, in postwar Soviet criticism there is a tendency to use indiscriminately a number of labels, such as "humanist," "patriot," "progressive," and "realist." According to Soviet critics Griboedov was "progressive," and so were Saltykov-Shchedrin and Belinskii; Turgenev was a "patriot," and so were Nekrasov and Lermontov; Chekhov was a "humanist," and so were Leskov and Pushkin; Goncharov was a "realist," and so were Tolstoy and Gogol. T h e less comprehensive works of Soviet criticism of the Russian classics—that is, those appended to the editions of the classics themselves and therefore most likely to be read by large segments of the population—frequently fail to specify the meaning of this terminology. Ordinarily Soviet readers are not told that Saltykov-Shchedrin's radicalism bore little similarity to Belinskii's and even less to Griboedov's; that there were great differences between the patriotism of Turgenev, Nekrasov, and Lermontov; that the humanism of Chekhov is poles apart from Pushkin's or Leskov's; that Goncharov's realism differs widely from that of Tolstoy and bears little or no resemblance to that of Gogol. If one is to rely on the shorter works of postwar

88

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

Soviet criticism, the Russian classics were all alike—the moderates, the radicals, and the conservatives; the romantics and the realists; and even the Slavophiles and the Westernizers. T h e tendency to blur the political and even artistic distinctions between the authors of the past, to create retroactively a sort of "united front" of these writers, may in fact reflect the Soviet dedication to the proposition that all good men tend to profess the truth, and that the truth is one—the current Soviet truth. In contrast, falsehoods are many, but they are all alike since they are all deception and evil. It may be for this reason that Soviet propaganda frequently makes no distinction between various types of "reactionaries," between "bourgeois liberals" and monarchists, between Social Democrats and the Nazis. T h i s may also be one of the reasons why in Soviet literary criticism the political views of the authors of the past are frequently made to appear as "errors," preferably errors that were unavoidable, given the socioeconomic conditions of the period. If the writers of the Russian classics are to be shown as men of righteousness, they must be presented as spiritual forerunners of Bolshevism. T h e acts of their lives and works that contradict this belief must be explained as instances of political immaturity in the writers of the past. In no case is the Soviet reader to be allowed to arrive at the conclusion that the old author was an intelligent and sincere man who was a strong adherent of views that do not befit a spiritual ancestor of the Communists. Under no circumstances is the Soviet reader to be permitted to think that Chekhov was politically mature and a "bourgeois liberal" ; that Tolstoy's so-called Christian anarchism was not simply an "error," but rather the result of years of hard thinking by a brilliant intellect; that Dostoyevsky's reactionary views cannot be lightly dismissed as the product of the unstable mind of a broken man; that Korolenko was no Marxist not because he did not know Marxism, but because he rejected it. Any such conclusion would be dangerous from a Soviet point of view. It would shatter the belief that the choice is only between good and evil, between truth and falsehood. It would suggest to the Soviet citizen that it is not necessary to agree with various ideologies in order to respect them; it would plant in his mind the seeds of political tolerance.

OFFICIAL ATTITUDES

89

Like any authoritarian state, the USSR has the means to prevent the appearance of literary criticism that might yield undesirable effects. But, unlike most other such states, it has also developed methods of placing literary criticism and publishing at its active service. T h e state decides which books are to be published, in which language, at what price, at which time, and in how many copies. But even within these narrow limits readers are not given a completely free choice of what is available. A 1940 decision of the Central Committee of the Communist Party ordered newspapers to print lists of recommended books for their readers, while the Lenin Library (the Soviet equivalent of the Library of Congress) was entrusted with the compilation of lists of books that small libraries should purchase, and also with the publication of a biweekly bulletin entitled "What Should Be Read." 9 The state also indirectly decides on the general tone and content of Soviet evaluation of the Russian classics. It appears that experienced Soviet critics sense the political moods of the moment and attempt to guess how this should affect Lermontov scholarship or the jubilee observances of Chekhov. T h e fact that sometimes their efforts result in a rebuke from a spokesman for the Party does not necessarily contradict this hypothesis. It may even be considered evidence that either these critics strive to maintain a degree of independence too great for the Party's tastes or else that their intuition failed them. In the great majority of cases, however, Soviet critics' evaluations of the ideological aspects of the lives and works of nineteenth-century Russian writers are strikingly uniform. It is remarkable that this state of affairs was foretold by some Russians as early as 1918. In connection with the decree that nationalized the Russian classics, four scholars—M. Gershenzon, P. Sakulin, V. V. Veresaev, and Iu. Got'e—warned in a letter to the commissar of the literary-publishing department: The works of the Russian classics have been declared the monopolistic property of the state. This eliminates private initiative in publishing. It will inevitably hurt the cause of their [the classics'] wide dissemination, as well as that of many-sided, unforeseeable, perhaps subjective, but highly valuable work on their texts. Fur8 O partiinoi t sovetskoi pechati, pp. 487-90.

9o

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

ther, it has been decided that the monopolistic publication of the classics by the state shall be supplemented with explanatory (that is, ideal) [ideal'nye; probably a misprint for ideinye (ideological)] commentaries, which will transform the intimate and free discourse between the reader and the author into a predetermined and circumscribed learning process, with the commentator—perhaps a biased one—issuing the orders. Both of these conditions—that is, the monopoly and the forcible interpretation—obviously contradict the educational aims which, in our opinion, consist in bringing the Russian nation closer to the spiritual treasures of her native tongue. Furthermore, in addition to the general considerations formulated by these two requirements, as editors we would find ourselves in an impossible predicament, since every mistake in editing as well as every instance of subjectivity, narrow-mindedness, or error in a commentary would, in the conditions of monopolistic publishing, remain unrectified forever or, at best, for a very long time. Such responsibility we cannot assume. We believe that these educational aims would be attained in full only provided that the publication of the Russian authors undertaken by the state be national, rather than monopolistic, in its accessibility, size, price, as well as in its external and internal characteristics. Publishing should face the work of an artist directly, without moralizing intermediaries. 10 T h e four Russian critics erred in their prediction that under a state monopoly it would be impossible to disseminate efficiently the works of the Russian classics. Organized effort, group scholarship, and the wealth of the state have done much to make possible the printing of the numerous great editions. T h e i r fears regarding the work on the manuscripts of the classics may or may not have been justified. T h o u g h very much has been done in this direction in the Soviet Union, perhaps even more would have been accomplished under conditions of totally free literary scholarship. B u t their gloomy prophecies about the "moralizing intermediaries" who would hinder free discourse between the author and his reader, the "learning process," the "subjectivity, narrow-mindedness, or error" in the commentaries, and about the difficulty of rectifying these blemishes—all these have come true in the subsequent years. A comparison of the evaluations of the classics in Soviet literary criticism with the data contained in the Appendixes sug10 Polianskii, "Nachalo sovetskikh izdatel'stv," pp. 237-38.

OFFICIAL ATTITUDES

91

gests that great caution must be exercised in attempts to correlate the former with the publication figures for individual authors and titles. Authors and works lauded by the critics for ideological reasons are favored by the publishing houses, b u t only to a certain extent. T h e "desirable" writers may be the most honored—for example, the second largest library in the USSR is named after Saltykov-Shchedrin—but not necessarily those most widely printed. Nekrasov is perhaps the most highly praised among the classics because of his "progressive" tendencies, b u t in terms of publication figures he is far behind Tolstoy, Chekhov, and Pushkin. Occasionally there are even serious contradictions between critical evaluations of individual authors and publication statistics. Thus, as was pointed out earlier in this chapter, in the early 1930s the Literary Encyclopedia inveighed against Krylov, b u t the fabulist was at the time the most widely reprinted among the Russian classics. T h i s would indicate that Soviet publishing houses are guided not only by considerations of political nature—though these, no doubt, play the leading role—but also by such factors as public demand and the appropriateness of specific types of reading matter for various strata of readers. T h i s fact is borne out by the large figures regularly attained by certain short stories of Chekhov, poems of Pushkin, and tales of Tolstoy. These are n o longer subject to political metamorphoses; they are a part of the country's ethos. Is the effort expended on attempts to harness the classics for the Soviet cause worth while from the Soviet point of view? Could not greater political benefits be reaped by producing more straightforward political writing than by the commentaries to the Russian classics? It is doubtful whether more newspaper editorials, broadcasts, and pamphlets would greatly increase the effectiveness of Soviet propaganda. T h e i r present abundance seems sufficient to reach every Soviet citizen. Besides, even so they often repeat each other, not infrequently verbatim. Imaginative literature, and analyses of imaginative literature, can be infinitely more effective because they can be equally tendentious while being incomparably more interesting. As George Orwell p u t it:

92

The average man is reads, he wants the into a simple story Shin and Fenner as

OFFICIAL ATTITUDES

not directly interested in politics, and when he current struggles of the world to be translated about individuals. He can take an interest in he could not in the G.P.U. and the Gestapo.11

Lenin seems to have been aware of this fact, and in appraising the significance of Leo Tolstoy he wrote: Tolstoy's criticism is not new. He said nothing that was not said before him in both European and Russian literature. But Tolstoy's criticism is distinctive and historically significant because he expresses [this criticism] with the forcefulness of which only a great artist is capable.12 It is not inconceivable that, given a sufficiently large body of Soviet literature permeated with the Party spirit and enjoying the position of the favorite reading matter of the masses, the Soviet state might abandon the effort to derive political capital from the Russian classics. However, as we shall attempt to demonstrate in Chapter VI, very little Soviet literature measures u p to these criteria. Russian classics are by far the most popular type of literature in the Soviet Union. Therefore, those who would reach the masses with an ideological message clad in the form of literary criticism must of necessity concentrate on the Russian classics. It is for this reason that a Soviet critic has admitted that Bolshevism is characterized by an exceptional interest in Russian classical literature, which is to the revolutionary party of the proletariat an ideological arsenal, an inexhaustible source of material for the defense and development of ideas of scientific socialism and people's patriotism. 13 In the course of the last four decades a vast body of literary criticism concerned with prerevolutionary Russian literature has appeared in the Soviet Union. Some of this criticism, in particular the longer studies appended to the multivolume editions, lives u p to the highest standards of objective literary 11 George Orwell, "Raffles and Miss Blandish," in Bernard Rosenberg and David Manning White, eds., Mass Culture: The Popular Arts in America (Glencoe, 111.: Free Press, 1957), p. 163. 12 Quoted in A. Ivashchenko, "Literature and Its Kinship with the People," Soviet Literature, No. 10 (1951), p. 119. 13 Prutskov, Κ voprosu o sotsial'no-istoricheskikh istochnikakh mirovogo macheniia russkoi klassicheskoi literatury XIX veka, p. 4.

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

93

scholarship and pays only lip service to official ideology, particularly in periods of comparative political laxity. Occasionally, militant Party critics rebuke the authors of these scholarly works for insufficient preoccupation with politics, and the scholars dutifully recant and promise to improve. But, to quote Horace, "you can drive out nature with a fork, yet she will return." However, these scholarly and politically quite dispassionate studies are read for the most part by a relatively small group of intellectually inclined readers. T h e rank-and-file citizenry is more likely to read the shorter and less comprehensive works of literary criticism that are written in simpler language and are frequently appended to the popular editions of the Russian classics. These forewords and commentaries, while performing their traditional and useful tasks, simultaneously exert every effort to shift the reader's attention toward the political implications of individual authors and works. At the various periods of Soviet history the emphasis has changed, being in a sense a function of the fluctuations of Party policy. But there are some characteristics of Soviet criticism that have remained constant in the changing patterns of these evaluations. One of these is its persistent didacticism. T h e Soviet reader is not trusted, as it were, to form his own opinions regarding the "moral" to be drawn from the Russian classics. Even the editions destined for sophisticated adults sometimes treat the reader as if he were an adolescent who is incapable of grasping independently the real meaning of the classics. Since the earliest years of the Soviet regime an ever intensified effort has been made by Soviet critics to relieve the reader of the strenuous and responsible task of forming his own opinions about the Russian classics. T h e Soviet reader need not wonder about the significance of the old works. Indeed, the abundance of forewords, postscripts, biographies, and footnotes appears to encourage the reader not to think too much about the "message" of the classics. T h e reader, it seems, is expected to relax and to enjoy reading the books—unless, of course, the "lessons" are obvious and desirable from the point of view of the authorities. More often than not the reader is supplied

OFFICIAL

94

ATTITUDES

with a ready-made evaluation of the particular book. He will be told which parts of the book contain ideas; which ideas are good and which are harmful; which personages are the positive characters and which are the villains; and, most important, what lessons are to be learned from the book, what light the work sheds on the problems confronting the reader as an individual and a Soviet citizen. Most frequently the answers are presented in the form of hints, suggestions, and innuendos, though occasionally the answers are very explicit. THE 1920s: THE CLASSICS IN THE CLASS STRUGGLE

T h e early years of the Soviet regime's domestic policy may best be described as a period of "coexistence" of Communist ideology with "bourgeois" reality. This was true of the national economy with its state-controlled industry, petty private commerce, and individually owned peasant households; it was equally characteristic of cultural life. Among the then active writers there were militant Communists, fellow-travelers, and authors not concerned with politics. All of them possessed their own organizations, and all of them produced works of fiction and literary criticism. T h e government's attitude toward the various literary groups was a noncommittal one. T h e 1957 declaration of Mao Tse-tung, "Let a hundred flowers bloom, let a hundred schools of thought contend," was really followed to a great extent in the literary activities of the first decade of the Soviet regime—and the results were similar. As in Imperial Russia, in the Soviet Republic of the 1920s there was no free political life; and, as in Imperial Russia, there was a very active literary life. After a brief interlude of unrestricted political discussion during the Provisional Government of Kerensky, ideological disputes had once again gone into the traditional Russian underground of literary polemics. Even among writers who considered themselves Communists there was no unanimity of opinion, since there was as yet no strictly defined Party position with regard to literature. Many critics whose reputations were established before the Revolution continued to publish. What was later to be denounced in the USSR as "bourgeois

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

95

objectivism" flourished in the 1920s. In those early years Trotsky's Literature and Revolution and Karl Radek's essays were not regarded as the last word in discussions among writers and critics; a few years later, however, any quoted utterance of Lenin and Stalin even remotely relevant to the subject of literature would end a discussion. It should also be noted that both Trotsky and Radek were, by later Soviet standards, unusually broad-minded and tolerant of disagreement in matters literary. These were the years when Lev Kamenev, another prominent Bolshevik leader, insisted that "good themes in themselves are not poetry" and that "one cannot prescribe to the poet the sources of his inspiration." 14 During that period of relative freedom of literary expression—much greater than in the muchdiscussed post-Stalin "liberalization"—a writer could still describe tendentiousness in literature as "the desire to place real life on a Procrustean bed of preconceived opinions and conclusions," and a tendentious work as one in which "the artist consciously and willingly falsifies reality." 16 In the 1920s a literary historian could, in a militantly atheistic state, declare of the nineteenth-century poet Tiutchev, originally a die-hard partisan of autocracy, that "through religion he moves toward recognition of democracy." 16 A courageous critic could still protest against the biased Bolshevik interpretations of prerevolutionary Russian literature—and have his book printed by the State Publishing House. Writing of the middle-class heroes in the plays of Ostrovskii, the critic noted: In our days, when the very term "bourgeois" has such a derogatory meaning, one finds it difficult to retain objectivity in this problem. We are, of course, likely to assume a priori that the development of capitalism changed only the appearance of the predatory beast, eliminating from it the last features of naïveté and bonhomie.17 The Soviet critic reminded his colleagues not to lose sight of the fact that since the authors of the Russian classics lived and wrote many decades ago, to judge them by modern ideological yardsticks is to lose historical perspective. He warned against 14 Kamenev, Surovye napevy, pp. 5, 7. 15 N. A. Nekrasov: Ego zhizn' i literaturnaia deiatel'nost', p. 71. !β Grossman, Tri sovremennika, p. 29. 17 Dolgov, A. N. Ostrovskii, p. 162.

OFFICIAL

96

ATTITUDES

the tendency to praise or condemn the authors of the past on the basis of their attitudes toward the progressive movements of their times. And what is most significant, he pointed out a fact that vanished from later Soviet criticism: that even such right-wingers as Apollon Grigor'ev and Dostoyevsky were not afraid of the economic equality of men but feared the possible extinction of the spirit, the prospect of a totally materialistic ideology that would disregard spiritual values. 18 Occasionally, a commentator could even allow himself the luxury of mild criticism of the new Soviet conditions. An interesting instance was encountered in a study of Muscovite society on the eve of and during the Napoleonic wars. At the end of the book the author states that, although the nobles of the days of Griboedov were shallow and sinful, Soviet people should not condemn them too harshly lest they themselves be similarly condemned by a future historian: I do not want to say that our times are as bad as that period; no, they are incomparably better, nearer to the truth, more rational. But the same poison is also to be found in our blood, and the consequences can also be seen in us, just as they were to be observed in those people, the symptoms being emptiness and levity, only in different forms. They had their dances and parties, all that "goodnatured childish debauchery" of their existence, while we have the malignant complexity and sterile refinement of moods and ideas.19 One of the most interesting characteristics of Soviet evaluations of the Russian classics during the first decade of the regime is the absence of any sort of idealization of the old writers and their works that was to become so typical of later Soviet criticism. Indeed, in the 1920s there was a tendency to "expose" their ideological and personal weaknesses. T h e Soviet authorities had not yet at the time claimed to be the spiritual heirs of Russia's past, or even of her progressive literature. T h e classics were not yet ideologically "nationalized," they were not yet fully appropriated by the state to serve its own purposes. It must also be remembered that those were the years of iconoclasm in both the figurative and literal meaning of the term; that all the old values were undergoing a thorough reappraisal; 18 Ibid., pp. 260-61. 1» Gershenzon, Grtboedovskaia

Moskva,

p. 173.

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

97

and that things prerevolutionary, if they were not condemned, were at least suspect. In the 1920s it was fashionable to disparage and belittle rather than glorify old Russia's legacy. This generally critical attitude toward the past was reflected in the evaluations of the Russian classics. Besides, even if the authorities had decided to create by means of literary criticism idealized images of the classics and to popularize them, as they did in subsequent years, it would have been an arduous task. Russia's intelligentsia still consisted, for the most part, of people who had received their training during the last, more liberal years of the old regime and who were familiar with prerevolutionary literary criticism. I n addition, some of the old a u t h o r s Tolstoy, Chekhov, Korolenko—were still remembered as living writers and publicists. T h e time was not yet ripe for large-scale myth-making through distorted accounts of the lives of these writers and the "messages" of their works. Vladimir Galaktionovich Korolenko is a case in point. H e died on December 25, 1921, four years after the Bolshevik coup d'état. T h e numerous studies of Korolenko, the man and the artist, published in the 1920s bear very little resemblance to the "canonized" image of the author that was to emerge in later Soviet books. For example, one study pointed out that Korolenko had always been a religious man, and that Korolenko's ideas all boil down to pretty elementary notions of true justice, of freedom of conscience, and freedom of national "self-determination" (to use contemporary terminology), the dignity of man and his inalienable right to independent activity and autonomy, equality of all before the law and a serious, honest attitude toward the laws that regularize relations in life. Korolenko has no, or very few, "subversive ideas." 20 These evaluations of Korolenko's politics were echoed by othe critics. One of them, for example, pointed out—without reproach—that Korolenko always maintained neutrality in ideological struggles, including that between "the bourgeoisie and the proletariat." 21 And a third critic let Korolenko speak for himself. H e quoted the title page of the journal Ears of Grain 20 Batiushkov, V. G. Korolenko, pp. 21-22. 21 Kozlovskii, V. G. Korolenko, pp. 45-46.

98

OFFICIAL ATTITUDES

(.Kolos'ia, No. 12, 1918, published in Kharkov) where the aging author wrote: I am not a Social Revolutionary, nor am I a Social Democrat. I am just a nonparty writer who dreams of rights and freedom for all of the citizens of our fatherland, and I speak out in a partisan fashion whenever I encounter violations of liberty and righteousness.22 Other books were more explicit than was the old author himself. Thus, a 1922 collection of Korolenko's letters included those that were critical of the Whites as well as those condemning Bolshevik terror during the Civil War. 2 3 Furthermore, an essay brought out shortly after the writer's death stated openly that, while Korolenko defended the Bolsheviks who remained on the territory occupied by the Whites, he also intervened on behalf of the Cossacks who were to be shot by the Soviets for armed resistance. 24 It was this impartiality that prompted the then Commissar of Education Lunacharskii to write in his obituary of Korolenko in Pravda (December 28, 1921) that the writer was too much of a humanitarian to be a good revolutionary. I n the 1920s Korolenko, like other authors of prerevolutionary Russian literature, had not yet fallen victim to the later Soviet policy of representing the classics as forerunners—in varying degrees—of current Soviet ideology. Characteristic of this irreverent attitude toward the classics in the 1920s were the numerous studies devoted to Nekrasov, f r o m the beginning a favorite of the Bolsheviks. Lev Kamenev had even devoted some of his busy hours to writing an appreciation of Nekrasov's poetry, in which he praised the writer for making work and suffering his leitmotiv. For Kamenev, "Nekrasov's writings are characterized throughout by the theme of social struggle. . . . 2 5 Every generation of the revolutionary intelligentsia (and subsequently, not only of the intelligentsia) 22 Pamiati VI. G. Korolenko, p. 57. 23 Pis'ma V. G. Korolenko k A. G. Gornfel'du, pp. 87-88. 24 V. Evgen'ev-Maksimov, Velikii gumanist: V. G. Korolenko (The Great Humanitarian: V. G. Korolenko) (Petersburg: Izdatel'stvo Uchitel', 1922), p. 22. 25 Kamenev, Surovye napevy, p. 7.

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

99

discovered in Nekrasov's poetry a great source of revolutionary inspiration." 26 T h e r e were, of course, critics w h o echoed Kamenev's praises of Nekrasov. T h u s one of them wrote: Nekrasov's poetry strengthened in the worker the feeling of wrath against the oppressors. At the same time it nurtured in him the as yet weak feeling of individual altruism, readiness to go into battle for the workingman's cause. . . . T h e poet who contributed so much to the consciousness and feelings of many generations of revolutionaries, the poet who helped in the upbringing of so many representatives of workers' and peasants' intelligentsia, will remain great and will never be forgotten by the broad masses of readers. 27 T h e r e were even some attempts at using Nekrasov's poetry to justify indirectly some of the c u r r e n t Soviet policies—for example, with regard to the peasants whose grain was requisitioned by the authorities, it was p o i n t e d o u t that Nekrasov never idealized the peasants b u t portrayed their negative features, such as cruelty, passivity, a n d money-hoarding; 28 with respect to the m i d d l e class, it was n o t e d that Nekrasov hated the bourgeoisie; 29 with respect to y o u t h , it was recalled that Nekrasov's revolutionary heroes were portrayed as y o u n g people, because the poet was aware that "one c a n n o t c o u n t o n old men; that in the cities as well as in the countryside the real fighters for the people's happiness can be f o u n d only a m o n g y o u t h . " 30 O n e critic even went as far as to suggest that, like the Bolsheviks, Nekrasov understood t h e i m p o r t a n c e of the alliance (smychka) between workers a n d peasants, a much-heralded tenet of Soviet policy in the 1920s: "The people" to whom the poet devotes all of his attention, concerns and hopes, is the entirety of all the toiling masses of the popule ¡bid., p. 13. 27 Nekrasov, Polnoe sobrante stikhotvorenii, p. xxxii. -8 Evgen'ev-Maksimov, Nekrasov: Κ stoletiiu so dnia rozhdeniia, p. 28. It is, of course, possible that the commentator attempted to use Nekrasov as evidence of the correctness of Marx's opinion regarding the "idiocy of village life." 29 Λ'. A. Nekrasov: Ego zhhn' i literaturnaia deiatel'nost', p. 81. 30 N. A. Nekrasov, Tonkii chelovek i drugie neizdannye proizvedeniia (The Skinny Man and Other Unpublished Works), collected and with commentary by Kornei Chukovskii (Moscow: Izdatel'stvo "Federatsiia," 1928), pp. 18-19.

loo

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

lation, without distinction of classes or tools of labor; for this reason Nekrasov cannot be considered exclusively the bard and defender of the village poor. 31 T h e critic thus surpassed in his zeal even Kamenev, who noted that one of Nekrasov's shortcomings is the fact that he failed to write about the city and urban proletariat. 3 2 I n 1921 the young Soviet R e p u b l i c observed the centennial of Nekrasov's birth. T h e celebrations were not to be confined to libraries, universities, and learned societies: In this day of famine, in a time of general disaster it would be a sacrilege on the poet's memory to build monuments to him and to arrange lavish celebrations. But every Party cell, every executive committee, every department of education, every circle of the Union of Workers' and Peasants' Youth Leagues, every women's section, every school, library, reading room, every club must organize on that day an evening devoted to the memory of Nekrasov, recall his significance, his poems, his songs.33 A book was brought out for this very purpose: Having acquainted himself with the contents of these articles, every one of the comrades who is accustomed to speaking before an audience should be able to prepare a jubilee speech about Nekrasov, even if he has no formal historical and literary training.34 T h e comrade was advised to begin with the poet's biography; indeed, he was given a sample of the speech that he might quote verbatim: Although by origin Nekrasov belonged to the landowning gentry, on account of the special conditions of his childhood and adolescence, he had a chance to become thoroughly familiar with the life of the toiling peasantry and of the proletariat of the cities. Not only was he familiar with it, but he sympathized with it with his entire heart. You see, Nekrasov's childhood was passed on a landowner's estate. And the landowners' life in the days when serfdom was still as solid as a rock was based entirely on the oppression and ruin of the enslaved peasant masses. T h e landowners were having a good time, stuffed themselves with food, went hunting, while the peasants, who made it possible for their masters to eat to their hearts' content 31 N. A. Nekrasov: Ego zhizn' i literaturnaia 32 Kamenev, Surovye napevy, p. 16. 33 N. A. Nekrasov, 1878-1938, pp. 22-23. 34 Evgen'ev-Maksimov, Nekrasov: Κ stoletiiu

deiatel'nost',

p. 78.

so dnia rozhdeniia,

p. 4.

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

ΙΟΙ

and to live in a really grand way, had to do with bread and husks and risked insulting punishment for any little thing, or just for the fun of it.8® In those years Nekrasov's poetry was used to foster among the masses "proletarian internationalism" and hatred of class enemies: T h e poet points out that . . . plutocracy is of an international character and that it is not confined to any particular class. T h e desire to make an easy profit is characteristic of a nobleman as well as of a merchant or a peasant; it is to be found in an equal degree in a Russian, in a German, or in a Jew. 86 T h e poet could even be quoted to justify the terror of the Cheka: There is also another poem [besides Who Can Be Happy and Free in iïuiîi'a] which bears witness to the fact that he believed that violence with regard to enemies of the people is not only permissible but is, in some cases, a deed of high moral value.3T And finally, the Soviet critic pointed out that there is enough eloquent testimony of the poet's hatred for the social class that based its welfare exclusively on the exploitation and ruin of the toiling masses. . . . That is why in our day, when the struggle between labor and capital is so intense, Nekrasov's poetry acquires an extremely vital interest and may be widely utilized as a means for the enlightenment of the consciousness of the broad masses of the people. While celebrating the centennial of the birth of Nekrasov, the bard and inspirer of the revolutionary risings of the Russian intelligentsia, the merciless accuser of the bourgeoisie, we feel vividly that his poetry is also concerned with feelings and moods that concern us as well. Nekrasov has not faded into the past: he is here, he is with us.38 In later years such obviously Party-inspired evaluations of an author of the past, further strengthened by the enthusiastic endorsement by a Party functionary of Kamenev's stature, would result only in a chorus of other literary critics repeating the same thesis and diligently searching for other aspects of the writer's life and work that could also be singled out for praise. Si Ibid., p. 5. Slang in the original. 3β ibid., p. 72. 31 Ibid. 38 ibid., p. 74.

102

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

In the 1920s, however, one could still cast a dissenting v o t e unanimity o£ opinion was not yet enforced in literary criticism. Side by side with Kamenev's eulogy there were more sober evaluations of the poet, particularly in the biographical studies. They recalled many unfavorable opinions of Nekrasov expressed by his contemporaries—opinions to be suppressed later, during the years of literary myth-making. According to an account in one of the monographs published in connection with the centennial of his birth, Nekrasov was accused by Turgenev of unethical financial practices. (Nekrasov bought Turgenev's Sportsman's Sketches for 1,000 rubles and then resold it to another publisher for 2,500 rubles.) 39 Dostoyevsky was quoted as saying that Nekrasov was born to be a swindler; and Alexander Herzen, a revolutionary whom one would expect to have been an admirer of the radical poet, never ceased to refer to Nekrasov as a "repulsive scoundrel," "hyena," and "son of a bitch." 40 In the literary Bohemia of the 1860s and 1870s Nekrasov was known as a usurer, a gambler, a lecher, and a syphilitic. The novelist Gleb Uspenskii, an employee of Nekrasov's own journal, called him an exploiter. T h e philosopher Vladimir Solov'ëv and the poet Nikitin considered Nekrasov's verse pure hypocrisy; the writer Leskov and the composer Tchaikovsky were of the same opinion, and Leo Tolstoy called Nekrasov a careerist. Goncharov even asserted that Nekrasov, the bard of the oppressed peasantry, kept his own serfs in such misery that they begged other landowners for help. 41 In another early study Soviet readers were informed that the singer of the virtues of Russian womanhood for many years kept a mistress whom he married only shortly before his death, 42 that the champion of the hungry was himself a glutton and a gambler, 43 and that, while there are no deeds of Nekrasov that could be called "revo39 Chukovskii, Poet i palach, pp. 36-37. According to another study, Turgenev called Nekrasov "a shameless crook." Neither was Turgenev excessively fond of some of the other Soviet favorites; he is known to have referred to Chernyshevskii as "a snake," and to Dobroliubov as a "cobra" (Pokrovskii, Poet Nekrasov i religita, p. 11). 40 Chukovskii, Poet i palach, pp. 36-37. 41 Ibid., pp. 38-40. 42 N. A. Nekrasov: Ego zhizn' i literaturnaia deiatel'nost', p. 87. 43 Evgen'ev-Maksimov, Nekrasov: Κ stoletiiu so dnia rozhdeniia, p. 18.

OFFICIAL ATTITUDES

lutionary," there are some that stand in flagrant contradiction to this adjective: 44 [Nekrasov] was, it seems, the only radical writer in Russia who never suffered in any way for his convictions; he was never incarcerated or exiled, no search was ever made of his home, and in general he was incapable of self-sacrifice or even of relinquishing comforts.45 According to another critic, "While, with the sounds of his embittered lyre, inspiring others to struggle, he could not deny himself [the comforts of] petty bourgeois existence." 46 Mention was even made of one of the most revolting incidents in the poet's career, namely, his public reading of a dithyrambic ode to Murav'ëv, the bloody suppressor of the Polish uprising. In his poem Nekrasov, the "revolutionary" poet (according to some biographers, himself half Polish), implored Murav'ëv not to spare any other revolutionaries either. The ode resulted in a wave of public indignation; even the ultraconservative poet Fet associated himself with the expressions of protest, while General Murav'ëv was very much embarrassed. 47 Antireligious propaganda has been conducted by the Communist Party since the first days of the regime. In propagating atheism the Soviet authorities were concerned not only with religion as a hostile ideology but also with the more mundane problem of religious observances that were presenting—as they still do—an economic problem. Religious holidays meant a loss of several working days annually and, incidentally, contributed to further growth of the already rampant alcoholism.48 Naturally, this antireligious attitude was also to be observed in the evaluations of the classics. 44

N . A. Nekrasov, Neizdannye

stikhotvoreniia,

varianty i pis'ma

(Unpublished

Poems, Variants, and Letters), from the Manuscript Collections of the Russian Academy of Science's Pushkin House (Petrograd: Izdatel'stvo M. i S. Shabashnikovykh, 1922), p. 35. 45 Chukovskii, Poet i palach, p. 31. 46 Pokrovskii, Poet Nekrasov t religiia, p. 11. 47 Chukovskii, Poet i palach, pp. 3-10.

48 The custom of getting drunk on Church holidays is an ancient one in Russia. The tailor Petrovich in Gogol's Overcoat is described as "taking to drinking rather hard on any and every holiday—at first on the red-letter ones, and then, without any discrimination, on all those designated by the Church: whenever there was a little cross marking the day on the calendar. In this respect he was loyal to the customs of our grandsires."

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

In 1929 the Atheist Publishing House brought out a study entitled The Poet Nekrasov and Religion. T h e author, G. A. Pokrovskii—not to be confused with the famous historian—began, conventionally enough, by describing the poet's terrible childhood, his cruel father, and the unhappy serfs on the Nekrasov estate, and then proceeded to a description of the poet's hatred of slavery as shown in his works. But, Pokrovskii continued, "one cannot fight slavery and by-pass the Church which sanctified this slavery with her authority." 49 However, in the 1920s even the most militant of the Communist literary critics were reluctant to by-pass inconvenient facts in silence. T h u s even though the study had been published by the Atheist Publishing House and its intended effect was quite obvious, it did not conceal from the reader some very unpleasant facts. T h e author of the monograph admitted that, while one can find some anticlerical passages in the works of Nekrasov, in his most important poem, Who Can Be Happy and Free in Russia, Nekrasov actually defends the clergy, presenting the clergyman as the peasant's champion before God. Nekrasov's pop (priest) evokes pity, and thus Nekrasov—perhaps inadvertently—defends religion. Nekrasov's peasants, according to the Soviet critic, mock the pop, but they respect Christianity; indeed, to them Christianity is the highest truth. In Nekrasov's poems religion has a soothing effect, it helps the peasants to bear their misery; "his sympathies remained on the side of religion. . . . 5 0 Political police considered Nekrasov a socialist, and so did some people in later times. But it must be said clearly that in no case can Nekrasov be considered a socialist." 51 Nekrasov, the Soviet critic reminded his readers, accused exploiters of godlessness and presented his revolutionaries as tools of God; the poet can, therefore, be credited at the very best with a mild form of anticlericalism: But anticlericalism as a form of struggle against the ruling Church is in reality only a replacement of the old, rotten religion with a Pokrovskii, Poet Nekrasov i religiia, pp. 25-26. 60 Ibid., p. 39. ei Ibid., p. 44.

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

new one, better concealed and hence more dangerous—that is, unless it becomes transformed into and merges with atheism. An eloquent example of this fact can be seen in Dostoyevsky and Leo Tolstoy. While fighting against priests, they wanted to make all men priests. And, unfortunately, Nekrasov must be placed next to them, even though he did not pay attention to religion in general.82 Considering the "mixed" reviews given a radical poet like Nekrasov, one should not be surprised at the large numbers of ideological reservations expressed by Soviet critics with respect to such moderates as Griboedov, 53 Turgenev," Viazemskii,6® or Boratynskii, 58 not to speak of such right-wingers as Aksakov 57 or Dostoyevsky. 68 But frequently Soviet critics hinted at what was to become an immutable assertion in later Soviet evaluations of the Russian classics: T h e "masters of critical realism" M Ibid., p. 55. 63 "Griboedov is indignant about the abuses of serfdom, the savage sides of the landowners' tyranny, but not over the institution of serfdom as such" (Kireev, Λ. S. Griboedov, p. 64). Griboedov was further accused of being an agent of Russian imperialism; while in foreign service, he "zealously watched every strip of land that could be snipped off from Persia to Russia" (ibid., p. 58). T h e dramatist was also charged with being a Russian chauvinist and narrow-minded nationalist who was "kowtowing to the Russian beard and to the old Russian costume" (ibid., p. 29). In short, "Belinskii was justified in reproaching Griboedov for propagating in his famous comedy 'a Chinese ignorance of foreigners,' believing as he did that all troubles stem from the fact that Russian society slavishly copies foreigners. Griboedov's views were reactionary" (Voronskii, Iskusstvo i zhizn', p. 63). Needless to say, Belinskii's accusation cannot be found in any postwar study, i.e., at a time when "a Chinese ignorance of foreigners" was among the approved Soviet virtues. 64 One Soviet critic, for example, maintained that Turgenev was basically a reactionary who depicted peasants as gullible and smiling "Manilovs" and Hamletic "Rudins" (Voitolovskii, Istoriia msskoi literatury XIX i XX vekov, pp. 164-65). 65 T h e poet was charged with being toward the end of his life "a Tabid conservative and reactionary" (Literaturnaia entsiklopediia, II, 337-38). ββ This poet was said to have "considered himself completely alone, a kind of social outcast who does not belong to any estate, who is forced to e n w his serfs" (ibid., I, 335-36). 67 T h e author of the nostalgic Family Chronicle was, with some justification, described as "the only convinced bard of the patriarchal order of things," one "who to the end remained true to his serf-owning convictions" (Voitolovskii, Istoriia russkoi literatury XIX i XX vekov, pp. 114, 116). 68 Soviet readers were warned, for example, against the destructive influence of a writer who "believes that an atheist, given freedom of action, will choose the path of crime. If there is no God, then all is permitted—such is the conclusion of the mentally diseased [1] writer" (Malata sovetshaia entsiklopediia [1st ed.], II, 942).

ιο6

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

(a synonym for accepted Russian writers of the past) were n o t revolutionaries themselves, but they outgrew the narrow limitations of class prejudice and in their works described reality as they saw it. These objective portrayals of prerevolutionary Russia constitute, in the opinion of Soviet literary critics, a powerful indictment of serfdom and capitalism. And this power of indictment of social injustice should, according to Soviet critics, endear the old classics to modern Soviet readers. Such arguments were used, for example, to demonstrate the importance to the modern reader of such diverse authors as Niki tin, 69 Ostrovskii, 60 and even Pushkin.* 1 T h i s cautious early Soviet attitude toward the classics is illustrated by an introduction to the 1926 edition of the complete works of Lermontov. Reference was made to Lunacharskii's characterization of the poet as a "representative of the petty gentry who hated high society, which looked down at him, who hated autocracy and gendarmerie." Lermontov, according to the Soviet critic, always dreamed of a revolution, b u t his roots, his psychology, his ideology—even his revolutionary f e a t u r e s were all aristocratic. In conclusion, it was pointed out that Lermontov's poetry is valuable to the proletariat if only for the reason that a class that builds socialism must study such an important historical document. But in addition to his historical value, B9 T h e poet, politically a very conservative man, was lauded for dedicating his poems to the destitute (Voitolovskii, Istorila russkoi literatury XIX i XX vekov, p. 93). eo "Ostrovskii has shown that lack o£ scruples was characteristic in those days not only of the uneducated stratum of merchants, but of the more educated strata as well. . . . T h e power of money determines everything: social and family relations. It creates the atmosphere of jungle morality, which is shown to ur with striking clarity, evoking in the reader tears and wrath" (Polianskii, A. N. Ostrovskii, pp. 61, 11-12). ei In a 1926 study Eugene Onegin turned out to have been simply a greedy capitalist, and Dubrovskii a gangster: "Onegin, switching to the system of peasant taxation [obrok] kills two birds with one stone: As a landowner he gains from the productivity of labor, and as a factory owner he acquires free [i.e., non-serf] labor. . . . [Hermann, the hero of Queen of Spades] hunts day and night for luck in gambling and is prepared to sacrifice all earthly and heavenly happiness for a lucky card. . . . T h e ruined landowner Dubrovskii makes his fortune with the help of a dagger and highway robbery. T h e other heroes of Pushkin who are members of the nobility serve, steal, accept bribes, and try to arrange profitable marriages" (Voitolovskii, Istoriia russkoi literatury XIX i XX vekov, p. 27). It should be noted that Marxists believe that "free" labor is economically more productive than "slave" labor.

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

107

Lermontov is particularly close to the progressive class of our epoch because of his insistence on making his works a powerful tool for reshaping society. Lermontov is a model of a poet-citizen.62 T h e more conservative Leskov was looked upon in the 1920s with much suspicion: Leskov wrote reactionary novels . . . in which he threw mud at all the social movements of the 1960s. . . . The social views of Leskov boil down to preaching personal virtue and piety, at first in the spirit of old-fashioned parsons, and later in that of a polished-up Christianity, partly in the spirit of Tolstoy.63 T o summarize, it may be said that in the 1920s there were still two types of evaluation of the Russian classics in the Soviet Union. T h e first was the comparatively objective, scholarly approach reminiscent of some of the best prerevolutionary criticism and pursuing no political goals. T h e other was militantly Communist in its ideology and aimed at arousing in the reader a feeling of hatred toward the prerevolutionary social system and thus, indirectly, at fostering an attachment to or at least a passive acceptance of the Soviet regime. T h e devices used to attain this goal were frequently crude and lacked the propagandistic sophistication that was to be attained by Soviet literary criticism in later periods; often an attempt was made to reconcile propagandistic aims with the requirements of scholarly objectivity. T h e Party's attitude toward the Russian classics was still somewhat ambiguous; this ambiguity, the relative intellectual freedom of the 1920s, and inexperience in adapting literary scholarship to serve political purposes were all reflected in the evaluations of the Russian classics printed in the USSR between 1918 and 1929. THE 1930s: T H E CLASSICS AND SOCIALIST CONSTRUCTION

Soviet literary criticism of the 1930s continued to stress the classics' value as an exposé of heinous conditions of life in prerevolutionary Russia. T h e need for an intensified campaign of depicting Imperial Russia in the worst possible light was as great as ever. Gone were the comparatively fat years of the New «2 Lermontov, Polnoe sobrante sochinenii, p. xl. Italics in the original. 63 Malata sovetskaia entsiklopediia [1st ed.], IV, 60S.

ιο8

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

Economic Policy with their flourishing private enterprise, relatively high wages, short working hours, and abundance of consumer goods. T h e Bolshevik leadership was now in the difficult position of having to deprive its subjects of their two most popular revolutionary gains. T h e peasants were to lose the land for which they had fought in the Civil War and which had been given to them only a decade ago. T h e workers were called upon to tighten their belts, to produce more, and to consume less. Economically, the 1930s, particularly the early thirties, were years of feverish industrialization and the forcible collectivization of agriculture. Politically, they were marked by the rise of Fascism abroad and the mass purges at home. During the First Five-Year Plan there was a good deal of enthusiasm over the prospect of "overtaking and surpassing" the major capitalist industrial powers of the world. But there was also famine and fear. T h e scarecrow image of tsarist Russia was to assist the Soviet authorities in convincing the populace that Russia's past offered no alternative. T h e "real" alternative of a prosperous socialist society to be built at the cost of strenuous work and temporary hardships was constantly pointed out in the Soviet press of the period, which repeatedly appealed to the people to rally closer around the Communist Party and the then already "inspired leader and teacher" Stalin. T h e Russian classics to which Soviet citizens were referred for descriptions of life under tsarism were many. These included names as distant chronologically, politically, and artistically from each other as Nikitin, 6 4 Radishchev,®5 Koz'ma Prutkov, 8 8 Gogol, 67 and Mamin-Sibiriak. 68 T h u s the Literary Encyclopedia advised its readers: 64 "He exposed the dirt, savagery, and insupportably hard conditions of peasant existence during the period of serfdom" (Literaturnaia entsiklopediia, VIII, 69). 65 T h e reading of Radishchev was expected to demonstrate what "greedy beasts and insatiable leeches" the nobles were (Malata sovetskaia entsiklopediia [1st ed.], VII, 134). T h e expression was ascribed to Radishchev. 66 His nonsense poetry was recommended for its portrayals of tsarist bureaucracy (ibid., VI, 984). 67 Special reference was made to the accounts of the lives of the parasitic O IdFashioned Landowners (Gogol, Mirgorod, p. 273). 68 In his works Soviet readers could see how old-fashioned merchants "clash with ruthless businessmen of the contemporary capitalist variety. Behind them there is a crowd of petty crooks and greedy lawyers who cover up the wild greed

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

109

We cannot accept Ostrovskii's moralizing and his Slavophile fervor. It is not the aspects of Ostrovskii's ideology which supported the political system of the period that are valuable to us, but its negative tendencies, such as the satire of the idle nobility and his impassioned exposé of the "kingdom of darkness." ββ Naturally, Nekrasov was not forgotten. T h u s his well-known poem " T h e Railroad" was recommended to Soviet readers because it offers not only a picture of the economic senselessness of capitalism, but also unfolds the very secret of capitalist exploitation, the very basis and foundation of capitalism. M. N. Pokrovskii [then the foremost Soviet historian] pointed out that "this is the theory of labor value in verse, written by a man who probably never even saw a single work of Marx. Everybody knows 'The Railroad' by heart, but not everybody notices that it offers in approximately two hundred amazingly powerful lines a description of the entire capitalist system." 70 T h e ideological attacks on capitalism in the interpretations of the classics were synchronized with the industrialization of the country. It did not require much ingenuity on the part of the Soviet reader to draw a parallel between Mamin-Sibiriak's Urals and Soviet Magnitogorsk, between Nekrasov's MoscowPetersburg and the Soviet Turkestani-Siberian railroad. It is not unlikely that Mamin-Sibiriak's Privalov's Millions and Nekrasov's "Railroad" were singled o u t by the literary authorities for publication and commentary because a comparison of the working conditions in the two periods—bad as they were in both—would nevertheless prove favorable to the Soviets. It was difficult in the 1930s to impress the workers with better food, clothing, or housing. In lieu of these, Soviet authorities offered a n u m b e r of intangible incentives. Best known among these was the custom of awarding honorary titles and decorations. Less familiar, though perhaps n o less important, was the rather inconspicuous theme of Soviet propaganda expressed by implication in the forewords and commentaries to reprints of the Russian classics—things may not be perfect, b u t they are far better than under capitalism. of their clients; engineers whose careers are based on the exploitation of t h e working class, etc." (Literaturnaia entsiklopediia, VI, 752). ββ Ibid., VII, 371. το Λ". Α. Nekrasov, 1878-1938, p p . 69-70.

no

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

According to the Soviet critics in the 1930s, the Russian classics were valuable not only because they acquainted the reader with the seamy sides of life in tsarist Russia b u t also because they permitted the Soviet citizen to recognize the survivals of an alien mentality still present in some inhabitants of the USSR. And recognition of symptoms of capitalist mentality was, according to these critics, imperative in the struggle against it. Thus, Commissar of Education Lunacharskii believed that the reading of Dostoyevsky might help the Soviet citizen to understand the motivations of class enemies. But have we ourselves been saved from Dostoyevskyism? Of course not! . . . In wrecking, which we are beginning to investigate to the bottom, is there not a good deal of very genuine Dostoyevskyism? . . . The whole psychology of doubts and hesitations, of personal resentment, of fractionalism, everything that complicates relationships in political and everyday life, to our great shame, is akin to Dostoyevskyism. For this reason Dostoyevsky is for us also a living and vivid exponent of these negative forces in consciousness and behavior, and we must study them in him for our own purposes, for to know in people the weakness they have not yet overcome is now an important task for every organizer and every builder. 71 "Oblomovism," the disease of laziness and inertia, was the bête noire during the years of rapid tempos of work. Readers of Goncharov were advised that Oblomovism would persist in Russia as long as elements hostile to the proletariat continued to exist. The social function of survivals of Oblomovism under the conditions of the Second Five-Year Plan is linked with the preservation and, in certain instances, intensification of bourgeois-kulak influences on certain groups and segments of toilers.72 In fact, the antikulak theme continued for some time after the kulaks ceased to be a problem in the countryside—perhaps to neutralize any possible compassion for these victims of Soviet persecutions. One 1938 study of Nekrasov stressed that the poet must not be considered a bard of the kulaks, of the peasant "capitalists"; that Nekrasov dreamed of a prosperous life for τι Quoted in Vladimir Seduro, Dostoyevski in Russian Literary 198-99. 72 Literaturnaia entsiklopediia, VIII, 171-72.

Criticism,

pp.

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

I1I

the peasants, b u t he did not wish to see them turn into kulaks; and that "the w h i p of his poetry has not spared the village kulak." 73 As one critic p u t it, Nekrasov's poetry is also timely for our days: it teaches us to hate exploiters of all breeds and ranks. True, in the land of the Soviets the exploiting classes have been liquidated—but only in the land of the Soviets. As far as the remaining five sixths of the globe is concerned, they are still the "masters of the situation" there. The part of humanity that wants to rebuild the world on socialist principles still has ahead of it a difficult and stubborn struggle with the exploiters. This is why Nekrasov's poetry has not yet lost its militant character. 74 But above all, in the 1930s the reading of Nekrasov's poetry was expected to instill in Soviet citizenry a feeling of appreciation for the "happy" life in the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, to foster Soviet patriotism and devotion to the Communist Party. I n fact, on several occasions Soviet critics stated rather bluntly that the Soviet regime made Nekrasov's fondest hopes come true. T o cite a few examples: Nekrasov instills in his readers a profound respect for the toiler, in particular for men of physical labor. . . . Nekrasov not only respects the toilers but passionately wishes them a better future, that is, in the first place, a prosperous and cultured life, the very same life that before our own eyes becomes the lot of the millions of collective peasants and the working class.75 Nekrasov fought for the implementation of ideals that have now been realized on a much larger scale by the Stalin Constitution. We live in an epoch when Nekrasov's dreams have come true. 76 The poet was not wrong in his hopes for a better future for the Russian people. T h e Great October Socialist Revolution made the people free, powerful, and happy. 77 At times it appears that Nekrasov wrote about the miracles of Bolshevik technology and about the daring exploits of the builders of socialism.78 To judge by this poem [Who Can Be Happy and Free in Russia], the free and emancipated collective farm woman who joyfully reaps 13 N. A. Nekrasov, 1878-1938, p. 65. 74 N. A. Nekrasov ν portrelakh i illiustratsiiakh, p. 12. 75 Ibid., p. 12. 76 A. Egolin, N. A. Nekrasov: Kritiko-biograficheskii ocherk (N. A. .Nekrasov: A Critical and Biographical Study) (Moscow: Gosizdat, 1941), p. 192. Π Ibid., p. 209. Egolin, "Nekrasov i nasha sovremennost'," p. 227.

112

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

the fruits of her labor may compare her present status with the way she would have lived before the Socialist Revolution. 79 Nekrasov died sixty years ago. T h e wide spaces, the mighty Volga river of which he sang with such magnetic force—all these still exist. But at the same time how difficult it is to recognize the poet's fatherland! Poor "Mother Russia" has disappeared forever. Under the leadership of the party of Lenin and Stalin the peoples of the Soviet Union, freed from the yoke of exploitation, have within twenty years built a socialist society, built a happy and joyous life. The countryside is not at all what it used to be. How different it is from the one that Nekrasov knewl The poor, oppressed, martyred, individual [that is, noncollectivized] muzhik of Nekrasov's period, truthfully depicted by the great people's poet in the dark days of the terrible lawlessness and savage yoke of autocracy, no longer exists. Where in the past one heard heartbreaking groans, one hears today the triumphant songs of happy Soviet men and women. Our villages are populated with free and prosperous collective peasants. . . . Where the "mother of many sufferings" once shed tears and sweat under the yoke of inhuman labor, today a girl tractor driver—personification of the new villageis working happily. 80 Nekrasov's name was even invoked at a session of the Supreme Soviet. A deputy from the southwest declared: In our country all traces of such [unhappy Nekrasovian] peasants have disappeared. We have cultured and prosperous collective farmers. But the kind of peasants described by Nekrasov still exists on the other side of the Dnestr [that is, in Rumania]. Famine, poverty, and oppression make it real tough for the peasants there.81 And another Supreme Soviet deputy, one Nikita Khrushchev, said: With the victory of the Socialist Revolution in our country, with the victory of socialism in our country, with the victory of the policy of our Party, the policy of Lenin and Stalin, the "lot of the peasant, the lot of the muzhik," truthfully described by the poets Nekrasov and Shevchenko, has faded away into eternity.82 T h e first two Five-Year Plans, especially after the dissolution of the Russian Association of Proletarian Writers (RAPP) in 19N.A. Nekrasov, 1878-1938, p. 57. 80 Egolin, "Nekrasov i nasha sovremennost'," pp. 218-19. 81 Ibid., p. 227. Slang in the original. 82 Ibid., p. 226. T o the best of our knowledge and belief, this was the first recorded pronouncement of Khrushchev on a "literary" theme. On the whole, Khrushchev seems to shy away from serious literature; he does, however, like to refer to Russian folklore, particularly the thousands of proverbs and sayings.

OFFICIAL ATTITUDES

"3

1932, were marked by the mass publication of the Russian classics, in Russian and in dozens of minority languages. And yet until that time the classics had been represented at best as works of literature that, in spite of their generally reactionary ideology, contained many objective portrayals of the prerevolutionary scene, portrayals that would confirm the Communist claims of misery and oppression in non-Soviet societies. However, until the 1930s the classics were only "used"; they were not yet assimilated. They were still regarded as a cultural legacy inherited from class enemies and therefore to be approached with caution. In the middle 1930s this attitude underwent a marked change. Under the Soviet regime and in Soviet schools a new generation of readers was introduced to the classics. This generation had no memories of prerevolutionary literary criticism. In addition, the classical writers were no longer close to them, as they had been to their fathers, who remembered the days when Chekhov and Tolstoy were alive. T o the younger generation the classics were literary monuments of a bygone era—as distant as Dickens had become to young Englishmen or Hawthorne to Americans. In the 1930s Soviet critics were busy creating a myth of prerevolutionary Russian literature—the myth about politically errant writers and amazingly progressive works, progressive not only in their impact but in their nature as well. T h e position gradually taken in the previous decade, whereby the contents of some of the old works were quite progressive, and their authors much less so, embraced now an ever increasing number of classics and was stated more emphatically. Soviet critics in the 1930s polarized the differences between the old writers and their creations. T h e emerging new picture of nineteenth-century Russian literature was essentially that of inconsistent authors who did not live in accordance with their noble preachings. Soviet critics appointed themselves—or, one might say, were appointed—as the only competent distillers of these sermons. T h e authority of the classics was to be used to add historical respectability to current Soviet policy. But since very few among these prerevolutionary writers committed to paper their Weltanschauungen, whether in the form of articles or diaries,

114

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

and those who did—for example, Tolstoy or Dostoyevsky—expressed ideas incompatible with many Soviet policies, it was left to the resources of the Soviet scholars to produce studies in which the old authors would appear as forerunners of Soviet thought. T o accomplish this, Soviet critics set out to re-create these writers' alleged political credos by pasting together—not infrequently out of context—casual pronouncements of characters in prerevolutionary Russian fiction, particularly those with ideological overtones. It mattered little whether the personages really acted as spokesmen for the author, whether they were intended as positive heroes or as villains. T h e quotations were selected with content as the sole criterion. B u t the readers were repeatedly reminded that the cherished progressive ideas of the old writer found their expression only in his works—not in his daily life. T h i s technique was applied in the case of most of the classics. Yet, gradually, there were signs that attempts were to be made to rehabilitate the old authors themselves. T h u s , simultaneously with the creation of the "author-work" dichotomy, Soviet critics of the Russian classics introduced a device that would prove helpful in molding the portraits of the venerable writers into images acceptable to the Soviet state. T h e method was that of conditioning a "negative" opinion or a statement of fact relating to the old writer's life and work. T h i s was accomplished by first admitting an ideological "sin" and then, literally in same breath, balancing it with one of the writer's virtues, or, failing this, by a description of an additional "crime," a more "heinous" one, that he could have committed but did not, or by some other extenuating circumstance, such as the sociopolitical conditions at the time of his life. T h e purpose of this procedure was to minimize the ideological objections that a conscientious Communist might raise with regard to the classics: C o u l d "reactionaries" really create "progressive" works? Maybe the works themselves are not truly "progressive" ? A by-product of the technique of "negation of the negative" was the systematic creation of idealized "progressive" legends about the writers and their works, legends that helped in presenting them to the Soviet citizenry as early links of the progressive Russian tradition of which the establishment of the

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

lió

Soviet regime was but the culmination. These hagiographie techniques were applied with regard to many writers of the past, including Chekhov, Gogol, Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy, and Pushkin. For the sake of greater clarity, however, we shall confine ourselves to examples illustrating the new approach to the ideological transgressions of Nekrasov, Lermontov, and Leskov, transgressions that were openly admitted in the 1920s and that were discussed earlier in this chapter. T h e method developed in the 1930s, and used by the Soviet critics to this day, could be presented approximately thus: Although one cannot deny that Nekrasov wrote disgraceful odes to Murav'ëv and Komissarov.

One must not forget that His later works proved that "his love for the toiling masses and those who fight for their happiness became more profound and his hatred for the oppressors and exploiters increased in intensity." 83

Nekrasov exhibited "a lenient attitude toward religious superstitions and that was, of course, a hindrance in the struggle against one of the potent instruments for the deception and oppression of the people, namely religion." Nekrasov's novel Three Parts of the World (Tri strany sveta) glorified the "honest" bourgeois enterpreneur. Nekrasov was never opposed to the more humane brands of capitalism. Nekrasov never worked underground; he was never an active revolutionary. "Lermontov did not have a well reasoned-out political program."

"Nekrasov was not a propagandist of the obscurantism of the Church. . . . This tolerance is by no means tantamount to religious orthodoxy." 84

Leskov maligned the radicals. . . . In Cathedral Church.

Folk Leskov idealized the

In the works preceding and following this novel Nekrasov violently attacked the bourgeoisie.85 He was against a capitalism built on the ruin of the peasantry.8e He never forgave himself for not bec o m i n g one.87

"He nevertheless retained bourgeoisrevolutionary tendencies and moods inherited from the Decembrist movement." 88 Later he broke with the reactionaries and remained in the "liberal opposition." 89 In other tales he satirized the Church. He also mocked Nicholas I and exposed the tragedy of serfdom.80

83 Evgen'ev-Maksimov, N. A. Nekrasov i ego sovremenniki, p. 210. 8-Ά'. A. Nekrasov, 1878-1938, p. 66. 85 Evgen'ev-Maksimov, N. A. Nekrasov i ego sovremenniki, pp. 66-67. 86 Literaturnaia entsiklopediia, VII, 691-92. 8TN. A. Nekrasov, 1878-1938, pp. 32-33. 88 Literaturnaia entsiklopediia, VI, 289. Italics in the original. 89 Malata sovetskaia entsiklopediia, 2d ed., VI, 263. »« Ibid., VI, 263.

OFFICIAL ATTITUDES

Surveying the efforts of the Soviet critics in the 1930s to salvage, so to speak, the old classical authors' reputations so that they might be pointed to as spiritual forebearers of the new Soviet Man, one is reminded of Genesis vii.l: "And the Lord said unto Noah, come thou and all thy house into the ark; for thee I have seen righteous before me in this generation." Rabbinic commentators of the Bible interpret this passage as emphasizing the last two words: Noah would in subsequent generations be considered a sinner. Yet if judged by the standards of his contemporaries, he was certainly "righteous before the Lord." This type of reasoning is frequently evident in the Soviet evaluations of the Russian classical writers, particularly of the more "left-wing" among them. T o demonstrate the "righteousness" of the old author, Soviet critics frequently provide the reader with a panorama of the political life of the period with the author emerging as a beacon of radicalism. For greater effectiveness the comparison is usually made between the author and his relatively progressive contemporaries. Instances of this procedure can be observed, for example, in the evaluations of Radishchev and Saltykov-Shchedrin. The first was credited with being more "progressive" than the great radicals of that era, Voltaire and Rousseau, while the latter distrusted even the Narodniks, who were, after all, regarded in the USSR as members of a "progressive," if somewhat naïve, political movement. 81 A postscript to a 1934 anthology of Nekrasov's works stressed that in the 1860s the poet remained faithful to the "sons," that is, the radicals, while most of his contemporaries defected to the camp of the moderately liberal "fathers." 92 Another critic asserted that even the socialist Herzen (after 1848) and the extreme radical Pisarev (after 1862-63) called for the abandonment of revolutionary methods of struggle against tsarism; only Nekrasov stood firm by the old revolutionary ideas.93 An innovation in the Soviet criticism of the classics is the introduction, in the 1930s, of another device for settling doubts 91 Literaturnaia entsiklopediia, IX, 492-98. See also El'sberg, Saltykov-Shchedrin, p. 150, and the same author's Mirovozzrenie i tvorchestvo Shchedrina, p. 271. »2 Nekrasov, Polnoe sobrante stikhotvorenii, I, 768. 83 7V. A. Nekrasov, 1878-1938, p. 35.

OFFICIAL ATTITUDES

117

and disputes—axiomatic statements and quotations from "patristic" sources, both literary and political. This dogmatic approach was, no doubt, a reflection of the ever more rigid enforcement of orthodoxy within the Communist Party as well as of the strengthening of Stalin's dictatorial powers. T h e authorities most frequently quoted were the so-called "revolutionary democrats"—Belinskii, N. G. Chernyshevskii, N. A. Dobroliubov—and, whenever remotely possible, Lenin. In all instances the Soviet critics used the quotations approvingly. No attempt was ever made to dispute an opinion expressed by the founding fathers of Soviet literary criticism. A typical example is to be found in a 1938 study of Nekrasov. After quoting Chernyshevskii's characterization of the writer as "the most inspired, the most noble of all the Russian poets," the Soviet critic arrived at this syllogism: "A Communist cherishes the names of Belinskii, Dobroliubov, Chernyshevskii; he cannot but cherish the name of Nekrasov." M None of the books published between 1930 and 1938 that were examined for this study made any reference to Stalin as an authority on the Russian classics. The process of "gilding" the writers of the Russian classics progressed gradually. In the mid-1930s recognition was still given to the fact that not all these authors were equally dear to the Soviet society. Nekrasov was, of course, favored over the others. As for Lermontov, misgivings were still expressed over his political apathy. Even in his student days Lermontov did not participate in the circles formed among the state scholarship students who lived near the university in the dormitories built for them. Particularly famous was the eleventh dormitory of Vissarion Belinskii, a passionate lover of literature and an untiring debater. . . . But they [Lermontov and Belinskii] never had an opportunity to meet, and did not speak to each other even once.95 »4 Ibid., p. 22. »5 Eikhenbaum, Λί. lu. Lermontov, pp. 39—40. T h e author of the study, a famous scholar and once a leader in the "Formalist" movement, also informed his juvenile readers that, when Lermontov and Belinskii did finally meet, they quarreled with each other (ibid., pp. 108-11, 135-36), and that the poet ridiculed the Decembrists (ibid., pp. 115-16)—facts suppressed in later Soviet Lermontov scholarship, in which every attempt was made (as will be seen later in this chapter) to prove the very opposite.

ιι8

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

In the case of Leskov, Soviet critics have n o t yet forgotten that N. S. Leskov did not see or did not wish to see that the peasant reform of 1861 [which abolished serfdom] was, in essence, a robbery of the peasantry organized by the state. He did not understand that after the reform new methods of oppression were devised and rapidly consolidated. . . . Leskov did not believe in a peasant revolution, he did not wish for one, and was afraid of it. . . . [Leskov believed:] Let there be "peace" among classes, and all will be well without a revolution. 9 6 H o w e v e r , to a greater or lesser extent, indulgence certificates were b e i n g issued to nearly all of the h i t h e r t o sinful writers of the Russian classics. A n effort was m a d e to minimize the personal "sins" of Nekrasov a n d the ideological transgressions of L e r m o n t o v a n d Leskov. T h e gradual resurgence of Russian n a t i o n a l i s m as part of g o v e r n m e n t a l policy in the mid-1930s facilitated these efforts. Love of M o t h e r Russia and p r i d e in the Russian people m a d e it possible for the Soviet critics to create a sort of " u n i t e d f r o n t " of the writers of the old books, for it is a fact t h a t they were nearly all patriots. For the first time in the history of Soviet criticism, it seems, it was discovered that Nekrasov a n d Leskov had something in c o m m o n . As n o w depicted, Nekrasov was opposed to tsarist Russian chauvinism, b u t h e was a fiery Russian patriot a n d a great a d m i r e r of t h e t r e m e n d o u s potentialities of the Russian people. 9 7 A n d in 1937 the editors of a Soviet literary periodical were ready to declare t h a t Leskov's " f a i t h in m a n , in the creative, heroic forces of the R u s s i a n p e o p l e . . . is extremely dear to us." 0 8 T h e t h e m e of R u s s i a n patriotism began to obliterate the h i t h e r t o q u i t e distinctive line that separated the "progressive" writers of the Russian classics f r o m the "reactionary" ones in the m i r r o r of Soviet criticism. T H E SECOND WORLD WAR: T H E CLASSICS AND THE GERMAN MENACE

O n the eve of the Second W o r l d W a r Soviet c o m m e n t a t o r s c o n t i n u e d t h e i r struggle with Russia's literary heritage in intensified a t t e m p t s to claim it f o r the Soviet cause. All the dése "O knige A. Leskova," pp. 153-54. Egolin, "Nekrasov i nasha sovreraennosf," pp. 228-29. 88 "O knige A. Leskova," p. 154.

OFFICIAL ATTITUDES

vices already mentioned were applied on a larger scale, and the number of writers of the past whom the Soviet critics would in exasperation brand as "hopeless" reactionaries was constantly dwindling. This may have been a reflection of the relaxation of standards of Communist orthodoxy that marked the period between 1939 and 1941. Perhaps this relative leniency with regard to the Russian classics was also influenced by the vicissitudes of Soviet foreign policy, which, during those two years, made the full circle from the Nazi-Soviet pact—with Molotov proclaiming that "Fascism, like any other political ideology, is a matter of taste"—to the anti-Axis coalition of the Second World War. In their search for allies the Soviets did not neglect Russia's past, which at that time was undergoing a thorough réévaluation. The series of historical "amnesties," which at first benefited only reformers and iconoclasts such as Peter the Great, was extended during the war to include even saints of the Russian Orthodox Church; Alexander Nevsky's memory was invoked by Stalin in one of his wartime speeches. It comes therefore as no surprise that during the war even more of the taboos imposed on some of the prerevolutionary authors were lifted. Old and new Russia were to be reconciled during the years of national emergency. Between 1942 and 1945 one notes in the critical literature on the Russian classics a less rigid application of the earlier political standards. Their authors were accepted by and large as patriots and illustrious representatives of Russia's past, and their political errors were for the most part forgiven and forgotten. Examples of the earlier apologetic attitude can be found in the studies of Lermontov that began to appear in 1939 in observance of the one hundred and twenty-fifth anniversary of the poet's birth and in anticipation of the 1941 centennial of his death. Lermontov presents an interesting case because of the comparative absence of themes of social protest in his works— a fact that caused considerable discomfort to Soviet critics in earlier years and forced them into making ambiguous or outright negative evaluations of the significance of Russia's second greatest poet. In spite of the fact that the absence of such themes in Lermontov is quite conspicuous, in the two years preceding

120

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

the outbreak of war some timid attempts were made at presenting Lermontov as a fighter for social justice. The "progressive" works singled out by the Soviet critics included Lermontov's "youthful poems [where] he already emerges as an active fighter against social evils." 99 His early romantic novel Vadim was credited with being revolutionary and demonstrating Lermontov's hatred of serfdom. 100 Another youthful novel, The Last Son of Liberty, an account of the struggle of the free city of Novgorod against Muscovite domination, was now interpreted by a Soviet critic as an antimonarchist work. 101 T h e poem "The Boyar Orsha," which is based on a conflict of "class" nature— a serf falls in love with the boyar's daughter—was now praised.102 And the last sixteen lines of Lermontov's famous poem written on the death of Pushkin were now regarded by a Soviet critic as "an incitement to revolution." 103 Yet Soviet readers were also cautioned that Lermontov's image of the future revolution was a hazy one. He could not, to begin with, envisage the revolution's aims.104 He was not certain whether a revolution could succeed.105 He feared that the masses wanted only vengeance and that they might be led astray by various "strong men" and demagogues.106 "Lermontov has endowed the future happiness with a tinge of Byronic and Miltonian mysteries. The happy future was to be a 'paradise regained' and not a social organism." 107 And the Soviet biographer of the poet concluded: "Lermontov's tragedy was that he could name the disease from which Russia suffered but could not point out the remedy for its cure." 108 From an ideological point of view, even a biased selection of incidents from Lermontov's life and a tendentious interpretation of his more "progressive" works were bound to yield unse Manuilov, Lermontov, p. 32. 100 Kirpotin, Politicheskie motivy ν tvorchestve Lermontova, ιοί Ibid., p. 33. 102 Manuilov, Lermontov, p. 79. 103 M. lu. Lermontov: Zhizn' i tvorchestvo, p. 155. 104 Andronikov, Zhizn' Lermontova, p. 32. 105 Kirpotin, Politicheskie motivy ν tvorchestve Lermontova, io «Ibid., pp. 90, 93-94. 107 Jbid., p. 16. 108 ibid., p. 143.

pp. 83, 96.

p. 75.

OFFICIAL

121

ATTITUDES

satisfactory results. A different approach was required. T h e ingenuity of the method that was devised reflects the growth of propagandistic sophistication in the Soviet evaluations of the Russian classics. Textbooks usually treat Lermontov as a contemporary of Pushkin, and it is true that Lermontov outlived Pushkin only by four years. Yet a more careful study of Russia's literary history demonstrates that Lermontov, who achieved recognition as a major poet only after Pushkin's death, belonged to a different generation. During the Napoleonic wars Pushkin was an adolescent; Lermontov was not yet born. By the time of the Decembrist revolt in 1825, Pushkin was already a mature writer, while Lermontov was eleven years old. Pushkin's alma mater was the exclusive Lycée of Tsarskoye Selo. Lermontov studied at the more plebeian Moscow University, and among his schoolmates were some of the later famous radical writers— Herzen, Ν. P. Ogarëv, Ν. V. Stankevich, and Belinskii. These men formed a study circle in which they discussed radical social ideas. It is at this point that the difficulties of the Soviet biographers of Lermontov begin. It was necessary to point out that Lermontov did not belong to this circle and was not even on friendly terms with any of its members, 109 that Lermontov did not share Belinskii's infatuation with Voltaire and the French encyclopedists,110 and that he preferred gayer and less intellectual company. Soviet biographers of Lermontov on the eve of the Second World War made some timid attempts to minimize this problem by asserting that Lermontov and Belinskii did profess identical views on literary matters; 111 that, while Lermontov did not formally belong to the study circle, his individual studies were of a "progressive nature" ; 112 and that Lermontov even expressed in a poetic form the philosophical thoughts of Herzen, Belinskii, and Bakunin. 113 Nevertheless, Lermontov's estrangement from the "revolu109 Andronikov, Zhizn' Lermontova, p. 21. n ° M a n u i l o v , Lermontov, pp. 60-61. m Andronikov, Zhizn' Lermontova, pp. 62-63. 112 Manuilov, Lermontov, p. 42. 113 Kirpotin, Politicheskie motivy ν tvorchestve

Lermontova,

pp. 67-68.

122

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

tionary democrats" who were his fellow-students suggested to Soviet readers and admirers that their beloved poet either did not share the revolutionary democrats' advanced political views or else was an antisocial individualist and an aristocratic snob. Needless to say, none of these conclusions was desirable from the Soviet viewpoint. A remedy had to be found. A tour de force was achieved, and, as if by some magic, Lermontov was "pushed back" by some fifteen years, and his name became associated with the Decembrists. Readers were informed that Lermontov was brought up in the Decembrist tradition, that in his childhood he had heard much about P. I. Pestel' and Ryleev and was greatly influenced by their ideas.114 One eager critic went as far as to assert that the Stolypins, relatives of the poet's grandmother, were friends of the Decembrist Pestel'—as if this could have left an appreciable impact on the poet's thought. 115 Another study called Lermontov "the spokesman for the Decembrists' most cherished ideals." 118 And attention was devoted to Lermontov's personal friendship with the former Decembrists.117 The fact that Lermontov shunned his radical contemporaries was thus obscured by repeated references to his admiration of Russian revolutionary currents of the past. It was difficult, if not impossible, to label the poet "progressive" if he were to be judged by the standards of Belinskii, Stankevich, and Herzen. But with some effort he could be, and in fact was, depicted as a belated Decembrist rebel and dreamer. This shifting of the chronology of events was not confined to Lermontov but was used in the evaluations of other men as well.118 Soviet critics do not falsify the dates of these men's 114 Andronikov, Zhizn' Lermontova, p. 15. See also M. lu. Lermontov: Zhizn' i tvorchestvo, p. 35. 115 Manuilov, Lermontov, p. 19. n e M. lu. Lermontov: Zhizn' i tvorchestvo, pp. 37, 181. See also Kirpotin, Politicheskie motivy ν tvorchestve Lermontova, pp. 7-8. HT E.g., M. lu. Lermontov: Zhizn' i tvorchestvo, pp. 37, 181. l i s A. I. Kuprin, who had left Russia after the Bolshevik seizure of power in 1917 and returned only in the late 1930s, was referred to in a 1944 anthology of his works as an "outstanding master of Russian literature of the prerevolutionary period." This obliterated the émigré period of Kuprin's career (Kuprin, Povesti i rasskazy, p. 2). T h e famous Marxist theoretician Georgii Plekhanov died in 1918 an opponent

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

123

deaths. They only link their names to events and ideologies that properly belong to an earlier period. T h u s the general impression a Soviet reader gets from these studies is that these men lived in an earlier era. A casual reader will think that they lived then physically, and a more serious one will conclude that they lived then spiritually. Soviet critics thus evade the difficult task of having to justify the failure of some authors to drift toward the "revolutionary democrats" and, in later periods, toward Marxism and its Bolshevik wing. T h e early postwar years witnessed a réévaluation in the Soviet Union of the significance of tsarist colonialism. According to the new interpretation—the so-called "lesser evil doctrine" —the subjugation of the Caucasus and Central Asia by the Tsar's armies was a progressive phenomenon, since it saved the inhabitants of those regions from Oriental backwardness and, worse still, the Western colonial yoke, and ultimately resulted in the incorporation of these territories in the Soviet commonwealth of nations. Until the war years, however, Imperial Russian colonialism was condemned in the Soviet Union as resolutely as the foreign varieties. It is understandable therefore that Lermontov's sympathy for the Caucasian peoples who fought tsarist Russian usurpers was shared by the poet's biographers who, in 1939-41, echoed Lermontov's admiration of "the strong, free mountaineers of the Caucasus, who at that time waged a prolonged, bloody war for their independence, who did not want to submit to tsarist autocracy." 119 In that war "Russian autocracy strove to destroy the barrier of the free mountaineer peoples who separated Russia from her possessions in Georgia and on the shores of the of the Bolsheviks. T o avoid the embarrassment of portraying him as a n enemy of Lenin, Plekhanov was also "pushed back" a few decades and reemerged as a latter-day "revolutionary democratic" literary critic. Because of the patient's political stature, the operation was performed by no less an authority t h a n A. A. Zhdanov, an i m p o r t a n t m e m b e r of the Politbureau a n d the Party's spokesman on cultural matters in the late 1940s. See Kratkii filosofskii slovar', p. 393. Similarly, a wartime study stated that Korolenko's "general Weltanschauung was formed u n d e r the t r e m e n d o u s influence of materialism," thus concealing the fact that Korolenko lived to see—and reject—a doctrine much later than "materialism," namely Bolshevism itself. See Prutskov, Κ voprosu o sotsial'no-istoricheskikh istochnikakh mirovogo machcniia russkoi klassicheskoi literatury XIX veka, p. 43. l i e Andronikov, Zhizn' Lermontova, p. 24.

1 24

OFFICIAL ATTITUDES

Black Sea." 120 Lermontov was alleged to have ridiculed the extreme Russian nationalism of the period. 121 He had, it was stated, condemned the cruel deportations of the mountaineers.122 Lermontov was also credited with recognizing the "imperialist war of Russian imperialism" in the Caucasus as a "cruel war, alien to the interests of the Russian people." 123 "Military might created by successful conquests of the tsars— the poet demonstrated—will be bought at a high price, by consolidation of civil lawlessness and political slavery." 124 A major literary reclamation project of the early 1940s was the resurrection of Nikolai Leskov. T o be sure, it was not without some misgivings that Leskov was reinstated as a bona fide Russian classic author. Indeed, the evaluations of Leskov in Soviet criticism of the early and mid-1940s—laudatory but with many serious reservations—are not too dissimilar from those of Lermontov in the 1930s and of Nekrasov in the 1920s. T h e process of "rehabilitation" was a gradual one, perhaps to minimize the shock to the mass of readers brought up in the belief that Leskov was wholly bad and reactionary. Many characteristics of Leskov's life and work that were "alien to Soviet reality" had to be pointed out and, whenever possible, minimized or justified. Thus, for example, Soviet critics admitted that Some of Leskov's works on ecclesiastical themes appeared in the early 1880s with the permission of the ecclesiastical censor, and even upon the order from the minister of education, the wellknown reactionary D. A. Tolstoy. . . . Characteristic of Leskov is the absence of the social theme of oppression of the peasants by the landowners.125 120 Manuilov, Lermontov, p. 101. Manuilov pointed out the erroneousness of the Decembrists' views, according to which these conquests were progressive in nature, resulting ultimately in cultural progress of the backward peoples (ibid., p. 102). The Decembrists' views received official Soviet endorsement less than a decade later. 121 Kirpotin, Politicheskie motivy υ tvorchestve Lermontova, p. 59. 122 M. lu. Lermontov: Zhizri i tvorchestvo, p. 162. By a curious coincidence the descendents of these mountaineers—the Chechen, the Ingush, the Kabardin, the Balkars—were deported once again shortly after the publication of this book, this time by the Soviet police. 123 Andronikov, Zhizn' Lermontova, p. 70. 124 Kirpotin, Politicheskie motivy ν tvorchestve Lermontova, p. 152. 125 Grossman, N. S. Leskov, pp. 92, 128.

O F F I C I A L ATTITUDES

125

In the main, Leskov's tendency may be characterized as "legal" liberalism. In essence he wages a crusade for the fulfillment in life of the reforms proclaimed from above. There were no deviations in the direction of revolutionary tactics, no deviations from a respectful loyalty to the government. He is against the "serfowners," but in no case for "peasant uprisings." He belongs to the transitional stratum of "well-intentioned men." 128 As one would expect, Leskov's anti-Nihilist novel At Daggers Drawn was singled out by the Soviet critics for violent attack. It was described as "a malicious lampoon at the Nihilists, who appear here as wild beasts of prey and uninhibited criminals." 127 Referring to At Daggers Drawn and No Way Out, the critic expressed the belief that "their polemic character lowers their artistic value to an extraordinary extent." 128 An enumeration of Leskov's errors was, no doubt, necessary, but, as was done in earlier years with other writers, it had to be balanced by a carefully constructed apologia pro vita sua. Soviet readers were informed, therefore, that Leskov was an important member of the Russian community of letters of the last century; that he was a personal friend of some of its foremost representatives—Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy, Turgenev, Goncharov, Nekrasov, and Chekhov. 129 The motif of "innocence by association" was carried even further. Thus, it was recalled that Leskov comes to the Soviet reader with excellent references: Maxim Gorky, the father of Soviet literature, was a great admirer of Leskov's talent and was greatly influenced by Leskov. 130 In Gorky's opinion, Leskov "seemed to have set for himself the goal to cheer up Russia, to inspire her." 131 Some of the accusations voiced in earlier years against Leskov were now dismissed or modified—again, with the aid of the 12e ¡bid., p. 51. 127 Ibid., p. 141. 128 [bid; p. 143. A non-Soviet observer is frequently puzzled by the double standard of esthetics, whereby politically undesirable works are branded in the Soviet Union as "pamphlets" (e.g., Dostoyevsky's Possessed is almost invariably referred to as a "pamphlet"), while Soviet-inspired "pamphlets" are hailed as masterpieces of Socialist Realism. Actually this distinction was already made by Plekhanov in Art and Society, where one can find a statement to the effect that fallacious ideology is bound to exert an adverse influence on the artistic qualities of a literary work. 12» Grossman, N. S. Leskov, pp. 7, 102. 130 Leskov, Povesti i rasskazy, p. IS. 131 Ibid., p. 3.

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

techniques that were employed in earlier years to "rehabilitate" Lermontov and, before that, Nekrasov. Thus, Leskov's father, who was a clergyman—in itself a serious charge a number of years before—turned out to have been a Decembrist sympathizer. 132 It was recalled that Leskov's early infatuation with Tolstoy's religious teachings later changed into disenchantment expressed in his satire "A Winter Day"; 133 that his unorthodox views ultimately resulted in his dismissal from the Ministry of Education; 134 and that a number of his works had been banned by the censor. 135 Leskov's attack on Chernyshevskii's What Is to Be Done, Soviet readers were reminded, was not aimed at Chernyshevskii's progressive thought; Leskov simply wanted to prove that Chernyshevskii was a poor novelist. 13 " T h e Soviet critic further declares: "Leskov speaks out against nihilism in art, which was so dear to him; he does so in the novel The Neglected, where he defends creative values." 137 Thus Leskov was presented as a misguided defender of the arts, who opposed the early forerunners of the various groups that in the early years of the Soviet regime preached destruction of prerevolutionary culture. Leskov's mistake, it appears, was that he confused these "pseudo-leftists" with genuine ones who, the Soviet critic would have us believe, always admired and promoted the arts. Even Leskov's most antirevolutionary works were now said to be not without merit; thus No Way Out mentions quite sympathetically young Herzen, Wilhelm Tell, and Karl Marx. 1 3 8 (This seems to be the only mention of Marx in the works of the great classics.) Leskov's best novel, Cathedral Folk, was described as, on the whole, "an excellent panorama of people and mores," "a splendid book," as Gorky called it. 139 T h e Soviet commentator failed 132 Ibid., p. 4. 133 Grossman, N. S. Leskov, p. 113. 134 Ibid., p. 108. 135 Evnin, N. S. Leskov, 1945, pp. 18-19. 136 Grossman, Λτ. S. Leskov, p. 135. 13T Ibid., p. 101. 138 Ibid., pp. 136-37. 139 Ibid., pp. 156, 158.

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

127

to mention that up to that time this "splendid book" had never been published in the Soviet Union. 140 Indeed, Soviet readers were told of the aspects of Leskov's works that are unquestionably "progressive." For example, attention was called to the fact that there are works of Leskov where serfdom, bureaucracy, hypocrisy, and peasant misery are condemned in unequivocal terms; 141 and that Leskov was an active foe of bigotry even in his later, more conservative years. His Tale of Theodore the Christian and His Friend Abraham the Hebrew demonstrates that human friendship transcends religious barriers, as does his pamphlet The Jews in Russia: A Few Remarks on the Jewish Problem: Having set for himself the task of adapting the maximum of tolerance in his attitude toward the fate of an entire nationality, Leskov, no doubt, achieved his aim. With much knowledge and cordial subtlety he disproved a series of popular unfounded accusations voiced against Jewry, and pointed out in the Jews lofty and valuable moral charateristics. It should be admitted that in classical Russian literature these are the most sympathetic words ever said in defense of the Jews, and the most solicitous analysis of their future destiny.142 Thus the last—and the least "progressive"—of the three prerevolutionary writers mentioned at the beginning of this chapter has been finally allowed to take his rightful place on the Olympus of Russian literature among the approved classics. At first glance it may appear that "comparativism" is one of the more esoteric problems of literary scholarship and concerns only a narrow circle of specialists, and that it is quite irrelevant to the study of literature as a means of ideological education of the broad reading public. This, however, is not quite true in the Soviet Union. WO It did appear some time after Stalin's death in the eleven-volume edition of Leskov's works (Leskov, Sobrante sochinenii ν odinnadtsati tomakh, IV [Moscow, 1957]). T h e volume was printed in 350,000 copies. 141 Evnin, N. S. Leskov, pp. 6-7, 12. 142 Grossman, N. S. Leskov, p. 232. It might be noted that Leonid Grossman, the author of these lines, an elderly scholar of Jewish ancestry, was several years later one of the targets of the strongly anti-Semitic "anti-cosmopolitan" purges. Among the charges levied against Grossman was his claim that Lermontov was influenced by the Bible (Gleb Struve, Soviet Russian Literature 1917-1950 [Norman, Okla.: University of Oklahoma Press, 1951], p. 342).

128

OFFICIAL ATTITUDES

In surveying the fortunes of this aspect of literary scholarship, one cannot fail to notice that they are closely intertwined with the general political moods of the period. T h e study of literary borrowings, influences, and exchanges is connected with the general problem of attitude toward things foreign or of current Soviet relations with a particular country. And this, in turn, is indubitably charged with broad didactic potentialities. In general, it may be stated that "comparativism" in Soviet literary criticism flourishes in times of an "internationalist" Party policy and is in disfavor in its "nationalist" periods. I n the early days of the Soviet regime the "comparativist" approach in literary scholarship was a manifestation of cultural internationalism. During that period the officiai position in the interpretation of history consisted, roughly speaking, of evaluating all events in the past from a single socioeconomic viewpoint. T h e importance of national boundaries and peculiarities was minimized. Feudalism, colonialism, capitalism, and nationalism were all examined as world-wide phenomena. T h e world was regarded as always having been divided into the exploiters and the exploited. And, since culture is to a Marxist a part of the ideological superstructure of an economic base, cultures created by similar bases should themselves be similar, and a study of these similarities would appear to be, from an ideological point of view, a legitimate scholarly pursuit. During the anticosmopolitan purges of the late 1940s an accusation was made that in "kowtowing to things foreign" certain scholars had compiled lengthy lists of alleged foreign influences on outstanding Russian figures of the past. Indeed, one of the accusers said, the size of these lists made them resemble telephone directories of London, Paris, and Berlin. T h e r e was a grain of truth in these charges. T h e years 1939-45 were, perhaps, the least isolationist period in Soviet history during Stalin's years of rule, and the contacts with the West were not only military and diplomatic b u t cultural as well. T h e r e was a lively exchange of delegations of writers and artists: American films were shown throughout the Soviet Union, while Konstantin Simonov's Days and Nights was an American Book-of-theMonth-Club selection. Simultaneously, the writers of the Rus-

O F F I C I A L ATTITUDES

129

sian classics were represented as members of Europe's fraternity of writers and—Russian literature being one of Europe's youngest—diligent students of the art of the great masters of European letters. A 1941 biography of Lermontov asserted: Lermontov's life and works are inseparable from his constant study of the best works of Russian and Western European literature. For this reason this book includes portraits of the following writers: Shakespeare and Lessing, Schiller and Goethe, Byron and Mickiewicz, the French and the German romantics.143 While he was still in school, one learns from another study, Lermontov was steeped in the works of foreign authors. Lermontov's poetic career began with translation; only later did he start writing original verse. Among the works young Lermontov translated were Schiller's "Glove," Byron's Beppo and The Giaour, as well as various works of Goethe, Heine, Shakespeare, and Chénier. 144 Goethe, Schiller, and Lessing, according to a Soviet critic, influenced Lermontov's early dramas, through which he hoped to create in Russia a theater of Sturm und. Drang modeled after the one that had appeared in Germany fifty years before. 145 But the greatest literary and spiritual influence on Lermontov was, of course, Byron, who—according to a Soviet scholar— "became the master of the thoughts of [Russia's] progressive men of the 1820s and 1930s." 14e Lermontov aspired to become the Russian counterpart of the freedom-loving British poet, one critic informed his readers.147 Lermontov "never parted with a heavy volume of Byron," wrote another. 148 "Byron helped Lermontov to find his own individuality," agreed a third. 149 Let it be stressed that, later official accusations notwithstanding, no Soviet critic ever denied the greatness and originality of 143 M. lu. Lermontov: Zhizn' i tvorchestvo, p. iv. 144 Ibid., pp. 60, 66, 76. 148 "Maskarad" Lermontova (Lermontov's "The Masquerade"), a compilation of articles, ed. by P. I. Novitskii on the centennial of M. Iu. Lermontov's demise (1841-1941) (Moscow and Leningrad: Izdatel'stvo V. T. O., 1941), p. 37. 146 M a n u i l o v , Lermontov,

p. 37.

147 Kirpotin, Politicheskie motivy ν tvorchestve Lermontova, p. 62. 148 M. lu. Lermontov: Zhizn' i tvorchestvo, p. 83. 149 Iv. N. Rozanov, Lermontov—master stikha (Lermontov the Poetic Craftsman) (Moscow: Sovetskii Pisatel', 1942), p. 59.

130

OFFICIAL ATTITUDES

Lermontov. It was simply felt that sound literary scholarship required a thorough examination of the impact of foreign letters on the works of a poet who came into frequent contact with them. Besides, immediately before and during the war the requirements of objective literary investigation fitted well into the "internationalist" theme of Party policy. Threatened by Nazi Germany, Soviet leadership placed great hopes on united fronts of all anti-Nazi forces. Under such circumstances Soviet critics thought it advisable to stress Russia's traditional cultural ties with Western Europe. And there could scarcely have been a better example to use to demonstrate these traditions than Lermontov, a poet who knew well the works of Lessing, Goethe and Schiller; he was one of the first men in Russia to appreciate Ε. T. A. Hoffmann and Heinrich Heine. Lermontov was also thoroughly familiar with French poetry, but attached to it little significance believing that "in our folk tales there is more poetry than in all of French literature." Of French authors Lermontov read at the time Lesage, Beaumarchais, Voltaire, Rousseau, Laharpe, André Chénier, Chateaubriand, Barbier, Alfred de Vigny, Rotrou, Balzac, Victor Hugo, Alfred de Musset, and others. The foreign literature of the greatest significance for Lermontov was the English: Shakespeare, Richardson, Sterne, Byron, Thomas Moore, Walter Scott, and later James Fenimore Cooper (Lermontov preferred him to Walter Scott).150 I n the postwar years Leskov emerged in Soviet literary criticism as a writer almost free of any influences from foreign letters. During the war, however, one of the dominent themes of Soviet propaganda was that of common struggle of all civilized mankind in defense of a common cultural heritage. A Soviet critic could, therefore, without fear of repercussions, examine the impact of foreign literature on a Russian writer of the nineteenth century. Thus, according to Grossman, the greatest influence on Leskov was Flaubert: b u t there were other influences as well. " T h e Enchanted Wanderer" was influenced by both Fénelon's Télémaque and Cervantes's Don Quixote; the plot of Leskov's In150 Manuilov, Lermontov, p. 36.

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

suited Neteta was said to have been borrowed from Josephus Flavius' Judaic Antiquities; and of his Devilish Dolls Leskov himself said that they were an imitation of Hoffmann's Serapion Brothers. In general, Leskov was described as a man well versed in foreign literature. He read an impressive list of authors. These included such varied fare as Boccaccio and Maupassant, Shelley and Burns, Shakespeare and Sterne, Carlyle and Dickens, Thackeray and Omar Khayyam, Horace and Ovid, Euripides and Plautus, and his favorites Heine and Longfellow. "He also cherished the great moralists" Marcus Aurelius, Epictetus, Pascal, Goethe, Confucius, and Mahomet. 151 Not all of the foreigners were accorded equal treatment. The vicissitudes of current Soviet foreign policy were projected into the past. In 1939, during the Nazi-Soviet alliance, a biographer of Lermontov found it expedient to emphasize that Lermontov's and Herzen's dislike of the Germans was not directed against the entire German people but only against the Baltic Germans who served the Russian Tsar. 152 During the war a reverse claim was in order. Thus, one survey of prerevolutionary Russian literature stated that the Westernizers championed close ties with all the Western countries—except Germany: The Westernizers understood that the Germans' lack of interest in the people was linked with their general hostility to the ideas of democracy, social justice, humanitarianism, and true culture. The progressive Russian writers of the 1840s were the only ones in the history of European thought (with the exception of Marx and Engels) who came out against the absolute domination of German philosophy and esthetics. Later they spoke with indignation about the attempts of the Germans to determine the destinies of contemporary mankind.153 However, "Belinskii and Herzen, Turgenev and Nekrasov, Pisemskii and Grigorovich, Goncharov and Panaev experienced a tremendous influence from the ideas of Georges Sand." 154 Ac151 Grossman, N. S. Leskov, pp. 109-10. Leskov also knew foreigners from personal experience—his uncle by marriage, A. Ia. Shkott, was a Russified Englishman (ibid., pp. 41-43). See also Evnin, N. S. Leskov, p. 7. 152 Kirpotin, Politicheskie motivy ν tvorchestve Lermontova, p. 137. 183 Prutskov, Κ voprosu o sotsial'no-istoricheskikh istochnikakh mirovogo znacheniia russkoi klassicheskoi literatury XIX veka, p. 61. 154 Ibid.., p. 64.

132

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

cording to the a u t h o r of the study, progressive Russian writers of the nineteenth century were violently opposed to the German b r a n d of capitalism: " T h e Prussian path of development permitted one to see the repulsive characteristics of capitalism in general." Fortunately, in Russia it was "the revolutionarydemocratic (American) tendency" that prevailed! 155 In fact, the study states, the Russian radicals dreamed of their land as a capitalist country modeled after the United States of America: T h e revolutionary socialist views of Chernyshevskii, Dobroliubov, and their followers were a peculiarly Russian ideology of the revolutionary peasant democratic movement whose triumph would have secured for Russia the development of the more consistently democratic American form of capitalism. 156 Between 1941 and 1945 the Russian classics were, so to speak, mobilized to help in the Soviet war effort. Since the dominant motifs of wartime propaganda were Russian patriotism and hatred of the Germans, it was frequently possible to quote the Russian classics verbatim. T h e r e was, for example, an interesting anthology of anti-German quotations from the classics. T h e title of the book can be translated roughly as Russian Writers on the Prussian Vermin.151 T h e names of the Russian classics were frequently invoked by Ilya Ehrenburg, the Soviet Union's most talented wartime propagandist. I n one of his articles E h r e n b u r g wrote: Against the cruelty of Nietzsche and the soulless power of Wagner, the Russian intelligentsia of the past century put humanism, conscience, the sufferings of Garshin, the pity of Dostoyevsky, the "I Cannot Be Silent" of Tolstoy. 158 I n this connection it might be interesting to glance at a study devoted to Tolstoy, written at the height of the war by one of the Soviet Union's best known literary scholars, Ν. K. Gudzii. Referring to Tolstoy's writings on nonresistance to evil, Gudzii wrote: Tolstoy did not believe that such barbarians could exist in "our Christan epoch." What would he say, had he lived to see our days, IBS Ibid., p. 34. ise ibid., p. 36. 157 Russkie pisateli o prussachestve, an anthology of pronouncements, ed. by A. Egolin, A. Miasnikov and N. Rubinshlein (Moscow: 1943). 158 Quoted in Seduro, Dosloyevski in Russian Literary Criticism, p. 247.

O F F I C I A L ATTITUDES

133

when monstrous German fascism resurrected the worst era of barbarism and prehistoric savagery? There can be no doubt that the great lover of truth would add to our voices his powerful voice of indignation and his most impassioned protest against crimes committed by the Hitlerites, that he would find no other way to save the world from violence unparalleled in the annals of history than the most energetic and staunchest resistance to evil by means of the only real force—the force of arms.159 A 1943 edition of the works of Leskov stressed that, while the Soviet people were engaged in the life-and-death struggle against the German invaders, "Leskov's works assume additional significance." 1 6 0 Referring to " T h e Iron W i l l , " a story about a lunatic German engineer who lives in Russia but despises the Russians, the editors concluded: " T h i s seemingly purely narrative tale, radiating with the sparks of Leskovian laughter, suggests to the reader a convincing generalization: T h e German will never be a master of Russia!" 1 6 1 Referring to the same tale, another critic was even more emphatic: " T h u s as early as the 1870s and 1880s Leskov saw the aggressive, colonialist designs of the Germans on the Russian people, and in a series of figures portrays a number of negative features of the German national character [!]." 162 Grossman's 1945 biography of Leskov devoted ten pages to an exposition of Leskov's Germanophobia both in personal life and in his writings, with special emphasis on Leskov's appeals for the creation of a united front of all SlavsRussians, Ukrainians, Poles, and Czechs—to face the German threat: " T h e writer's dream about the strengthening of the friendship of Slavic nations in the face of the great danger of Pan-Germanism assumes a new vitality and force half a century after his death." 1 6 3 However, even the "left-wing" classics were doing their share. Thus, one study informs us that During the years of the Great Patriotic war it was felt especially strongly how dear Nekrasov is to our people, how dear, close and 159 Gudzii, Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoi, pp. 78-80. ιβο Leskov, Povesti i rasskazy, p. 15. 161 Ibid., p. 10. 162 Evnin, Λ\ S. Leskov, pp. 23-24. 163 Grossman, N. S. Leskov, p. 189. "Leskov always insisted on the necessity of applying the progressive forms of Western culture, economy, and engineering to the life and mores of peasant Russia" (ibid., p. 243).

134

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

indispensable. In the period of the greatest trials, when the fascists fancied themselves as winners, Nekrasov's verse, which expresses the poet's fervent belief in the invincibility of the physical and moral strength of the people, evoked unusually wide public response.164 Anti-German sloganeering was also evident in studies devoted to other authors of the past.1®5 T h e Soviet authorities obviously f o u n d the carefully selected and interpreted classics effective in the war effort. T h e directive of August 31, 1944, of the Administration of Art Affairs of the Russian Soviet Federated Socialist Republic (RSFSR) Council of People's Commissars referred to "the positive influence, in the matter of propaganda, of Russian classical dramaturgy in the days of the Patriotic War." 1ββ T h e upsurge of wartime Russian patriotism was much in evidence in the commentaries of the Russian classics. A sudden change could be observed in a de luxe edition of drawings by and of Lermontov brought out in 1941. It appears that the volume was originally supplied with a lengthy nonpolitical introduction. At the very end of it there were some thirty l i n e s added, it would seem, when the book was already in press. In these the Soviet critic pointed out that, as the USSR prepared to observe the centennial of Lermontov's death, the country was treacherously attacked by Nazi Germany. After adding that Lermontov's poetry was permeated with patriotism and disdain of Napoleon, the critic concluded with the prediction that Hitler would meet with Napoleon's fate. 167 184 F.vgen'ev-Maksimov, Nekrasov, pp. 138-39. 185 E.g., a 1944 edition of the fabulist Krylov asserted that the writer parodied kowtowing to things German, that he ridiculed Prussian militarism, and that in general he did not like the "Krauts" (nemchura was the Russian term; Krylov, P"esy [Plays] [Moscow and Leningrad: "Iskusstvo," 1944], pp. 12-13). A biography published the next year claimed that Krylov had mastered the German language, but "he couldn't stomach the German authors because of their verbosity, heaviness of thought, and ponderous, clumsy wit. . . . He was repelled by the overemphasized, seemingly artificial orderliness, insatiable greed, hopeless philistinism of the German bourgeois, and the slavish kowtowing to force, titles, riches, and any kind of authority" (Sergeev, Ivan Andreevich Krylov, p. 106). ιββ Russkaia klassika na sovetskoi stsene: materialy i issledovania (The Russian Classics on the Soviet Stage: Materials and Studies), ed. A. Gatenian (Moscow: Vserossiiskoe teatral'noe obshchestvo, 1947), p. 3. Quoted in Peter Yershov, Comedy in the Soviet Theater (New York: Frederick A. Praeger, 1956), p. 231. 187 M. lu. Lermontov ν portretakh (M. lu. Lermontov in Portraits), ed., with

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

ISS

I n a wartime edition of his writings Leskov was hailed because: Leskov places in the foreground and transforms into his most generalized images those which glorify the limitless spiritual strength of the Russian man, his natural gifts, his lofty moral characteristics. . . . T h e lofty moral characteristics of the Russian inspired Leskov with faith in the stability and strength of his people and his country. 168 Whenever possible an attempt was made to distinguish the reactionary official tsarist "pseudopatriotism" a n d the " t r u e " Russian patriotism professed by the progressive m e n of the period. T h e Russian classical writers, needless to say, were as a rule shown as "real" Russian patriots whose love of Russia was inseparable from liberal, reformist, and radical tendencies. As a result, on the eve of and d u r i n g the Second W o r l d W a r writers as different from each other as the radical Nekrasov, moderate Lermontov, and conservative Leskov emerged from the Procrustean bed of Soviet literary criticism astonishingly similar to each other—they were all patriots, a n d they were all progressives. T o cite a few examples: Glorification of Russian heroism combined with biting satire of the police, autocratic reaction, backwardness, and stagnation—these were to become the leitmotiv of Leskov's works.169 Leskov's criticism of autocratic terror and the oppression of serfdom approaches in its forcefulness and convincingness the best examples of the work of [the radical satirist] Saltykov-Shchedrin and [the socialist] Herzen. Leskov is a worthy ideological companion of Leo Tolstoy in his unmasking of the inner emptiness and moral an introduction, by I. S. Zil'bershtein (Moscow: Izdanie Gosudarstvennogo Literaturnogo Muzeia, 1941), p. 40. T h e Soviet critic's claim to the contrary, Lermontov was an admirer of Napoleon, as can be seen from a number of his poems. T h e remark was probably inspired by one of Stalin's 1941 speeches where Hitler was likened to Napoleon—with the reservation that Hitler is to Napoleon what a kitten is to a lion—and the prediction that Hitler's defeat in Russia would be as disastrous as Napoleon's. las Evnin, X. S. Leskov, pp. 10, 12. According to a 1945 biography: "Krylov was a typical Russian: he possessed the best qualities of the Russian p e o p l e robust health, love of work, resourcefulness, a profound many-faceted intellect, and various talents" (Sergeev, Ivan Andreevich Krylov, p. 145). Sergeev failed to mention that Krylov was also lazy and sluggish and had a gargantuan appetite. T h u s no information was given whether these, too, are typical Russian characteristics. 169 Leskov, Povesti i rasskary, pp. 5-6.

136

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

decay of the aristocratic-bureaucratic upper circles of tsarist Russia at the end of the nineteenth century. 170 Lermontov's love for Russia and faith in the strength of the Russian people [were] intertwined with a negative attitude toward the official state system and the autocratic government. 171 Nekrasov's ideal is a free fatherland. T h e poet fought for a fatherland for the people, for the people's right to be the real master of its country. T h e patriotic sentiments [in Nekrasov's verse] rally the people against national as well as class oppression. 172 During the Second W o r l d W a r the Soviet Government, in its attempt to rally around it the entire Soviet population, appealed both to patriotic feelings and to proletarian class-consciousness. T h e foe was to be fought both as a Nazi class enemy and as a foreign invader, and the country to be defended was simultaneously the fatherland of workers and peasants and Holy Mother Russia. As usual, Russia's cultural heritage had to be interpreted in accordance with the general tenor of the Party's position. T h e classics had to be presented as both national and politically advanced, both patriotic and sympathetic to the radical cause. In a chapter entitled "A Striving toward the Development of National Consciousness and the Reformation of Life Is the Determining Characteristic of Russian Literature," a Soviet critic wrote: No European nation could create a literature so deeply steeped in ideas of statehood, noble feelings of national pride, and striving toward social justice as Russian literature. A genuine patriot tended to become a revolutionary, while love for the fatherland was great in those who waged the struggle for the liberation and spiritual growth of the people. 173 T H E C O L D W A R A N D ITS

AFTERMATH:

T H E CLASSICS AS SOVIET A L L I E S

T h e emphasis on the classics as an illustration of the "noble national characteristics of the Russians" continued after the war. T h i s point was stressed in the evaluations of writers as dif170 E v n i n , N. S. Leskov, p. 30. 171 K i r p o t i n , Politicheskie motivy ν tvorchestve Lermontova, p. 123. 1T2 A. Nekrasov, Izbrannye sochineniia (Selected Works), i n t r o d u c t o r y essay by A. M. Egolin (Moscow: Goslitizdat, 1945), p. viii. 173 Prutskov, Κ vopTOSu o sotsial'no-istoricheskikh istochniko.kh miroi'ogo ζ nacheniia russkoi klasstcheskoi literatury XIX veka, p . 5.

OFFICIAL ATTITUDES

137 174

175

ferent from each other as Gogol, Chekhov, Korolenko, 176 and Leskov.177 V. Evgen'ev-Maksimov, the country's leading Nekrasov authority, after some thirty years of intensive research and publication, finally discovered that Nekrasov, too, was fascinated with the numerous talents of the Russian people. 178 No person familiar with Russian literature is likely to deny that the prerevolutionary writers loved their people and were proud of them. T h e unpleasant, if not outright dangerous, aspect of the postwar Soviet treatment of the problem consisted in the unusual degree of emphasis devoted to the "patriotic" pronouncements of the classics and in the complete omission of references to the classic authors' disapproval of what the Russians call kvasnoi patriotizm, patriotism that smacks of chauvinist intolerance and the feeling of superiority to non-Russians. Not one of the scores of postwar Soviet studies examined by the present writer suggested that heroism, moral stability, and talents are not necessarily exclusively Russian virtues. T h e only distinction observed in postwar Soviet studies of the Russian classics was the one that was referred to earlier, namely, the difference between the politically conservative "pseudopatriotism" of the ruling circles in tsarist Russia and "real" Russian patriotism, which was allegedly affected by the struggle for social justice—in other words, a forerunner of what Soviet patriotism is supposed to be. According to a postwar monograph, Lermontov always dis174 According to one juvenile edition, Belinskii saw in Dead Souls "an affirmation of the writer's passionate love for the Russian people, [the writer's] strong belief in the inexhaustible creative forces of the Russian man, with his steadfastness, courageous patience, keen-wittedness, and longing after a free life" (Gogol, Povestt, pp. 30-31). It should be noted that this list of peculiarly Russian virtues appeared in a book destined for non-Russian children. ITS In a study of Chekhov intended for high school use (Semanova, Chekhov ν shkole, p. 8) the teacher was instructed to stress in the classroom "the yearning for freedom that is characteristic of Russians." 176 Thus it was pointed out that Korolenko "never ceased noticing the heroic features of the Russian national character" (Korolenko, Izbrannye proizvedeniia, p. viii). None of the numerous studies which had appeared in earlier years, in particular immediately after the writer's death, had so much as hinted at this fact. 177 "Leskov's great historical merit in Russian literature is his images of heroism, moral stability, and talent of the Russian people." (Leskov, Izbrannye sochineniia, p. iv.) 178 Evgen'ev-Maksimov, Nekrasov, p. 45.

138

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

tinguished between the two kinds of patriotism: "Lermontov was a real patriot. . . . Love for the fatherland was inseparable from the feeling of wrath against the enslavers of the people, from the feelings of hatred and disdain for the ruling circles of official Russia." 179 Therefore: Lermontov's poetry is close to all in whom there is a passionate protest against despotism, to those in whose hearts burns a bright flame of love for the fatherland. . . . True patriotism and striving toward heroic deeds endear Lermontov's works to our own heroic epoch.180 Similarly, in the opinion of a 1947 appraiser of Nekrasov, one of the author's plays, Autumn Boredom, compels the reader to hate the system of serfdom that gave the villain in the play the right to oppress the talented Russian people. 181 In the opinion of Soviet critics, one of the differences between "false" and "true" patriotism in Imperial Russia was the attitude toward the national minorities. T h e "false" reactionary chauvinists preached national hatred; the "true" patriots, on the other hand, treated the non-Russians with kindness. Instances of friendship and cooperation between Russian and nonRussian figures of the past were approvingly singled out by postwar Soviet critics. Thus, according to one study, Thoughts about the destinies of his own people, love for the fatherland, which Lermontov, in the words of Dobroliubov, understood "in a true, holy and reasonable manner," helped him to understand also the virtues of the other peoples that inhabited Russia. The new material collected in this book shows Lermontov's great interest in the poetry and culture of the Georgian people, in the language and poetry of Azerbaidzhán.182 T h e folklore of Russia's national minorities in the Caucasus was claimed to have inspired a n u m b e r of Lermontov's works, and not the numerous foreign authors who were credited with it in earlier years; 183 similar claims were made for Leskov. 184 178 Egolin, Osvoboditel'nye i patrioticheskie idei russkoi literatury XIX veka, p. 76. 180 Ivanova, Moskva ν zhtzni i tvorchestve M. Iu. Lermontova, p. 3. 181 Nekrasov, Dramaticheskie proizvedeniia, p. II. 182 Andronikov, Lermontov, p. 295. 183 Ibid., p. 292. T h e critic had thus renounced his earlier "comparativist" heresy. See Andronikov, Zhiin' Lermontova, pp. 12-13. 184 Leskov, Izbrannye sochineniia, p. iii.

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

*39

T h e emphasis given to the old writers' broad-minded attitude toward the non-Russian minorities was synchronized with the postwar Soviet nationality policy, which could be roughly described as that of tolerance without equality, since the constant glorification o£ things Russian made the Russians, to paraphrase Orwell, "more equal than the others." As a 1952 study of the art of a Russian dramatist put it: His [Griboedov's] idea that chauvinist intolerance is alien to the Russian people . . . is close to our notion of the friendship of peoples. And more than at any other time, now, in the Stalinist epoch, the writer's words to the effect that "thus Russia's glory and position were enhanced," sound with the full force of conviction.185 T h e postwar "lesser evil" doctrine, which was referred to earlier, was reflected in several of the postwar Lermontov studies. Since this theory regarded tsarist Russia's imperialist conquests as highly beneficial to the conquered peoples, statements pointing to Lermontov's sympathy for the Caucasian mountaineers who defended their villages from the tsarist armies were understandably missing from the postwar studies of Lermontov. A 1946 article mentioned instead the poet's sympathies for the rank-and-file Russian soldiers who fought the mountaineersl 186 In his 1939 study Iraklii Andronikov, one of the Soviet authorities on Lermontov, admired the poet's "strong, free mountaineers of the Caucasus, who were at that time waging a prolonged bloody war for their independence, who did not want to submit to Russian autocracy." 187 I n a postwar book Andronikov's evaluation of events was somewhat different. In 1951 Lermontov, perhaps prophetically foreseeing future Soviet historiography, understood Russia's expansion in the Caucasus as a logical and historically inevitable step; for, while "digging for copper and gold," Russia represented the "industrial age," a higher level of economic, political, and cultural development. 188 Not even a casual reader of Soviet literary criticism of the postwar years preceding Stalin's death is likely to fail to notice 185 Orlov, Griboedov, p. 36. 186 Lermontov, Izbrannye sochineniia, p. 20. 187 Andronikov, Zhizn' Lermontova, p. 24. 188 Andronikov, Lermontov, p. 281.

140

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

the violently "anticomparativist" tone of the Soviet evaluations of the Russian classics, so different from the favorable emphasis on comparativism in literary studies during the war period. An attempt was nearly always made in them to prove that the prerevolutionary writer in question was free—or almost free— from any influences of Western literature, that the Russian writer was wholly original—even in cases when a mere glimpse at his works demonstrates his indebtedness to foreign letters. From the nonpolitical point of view this might seem strange, for borrowing of themes and plots does not automatically detract from the value of a literary work. Why, then, did Soviet criticism of the Russian classics persist in its claims of originality of the Russian authors even at the cost of distorting commonly known facts? The reasons for this "anticomparativist" campaign are to be sought elsewhere. Negation of past cultural ties with the West was a retroactive application in literary scholarship of postwar Soviet isolationism and chauvinism. The modern practitioners of Socialist Realism scorned contacts with Western writers; the old "critical realists" had to be—as always—represented as early forerunners of the current policy. Comparativism thus came to be considered a literary manifestation of "cosmopolitan" subversion, of "kowtowing to the capitalist West." The "anticosmopolitan" and "anticomparativist" drives had sinister chauvinist overtones and bore a disquieting resemblance to Nazi sloganeering of the 1930s. H. G. Atkins wrote in his German Literature through Nazi Eyes: " 'Westlerisch' or 'Westeuropäisch' are favourite terms of abuse. Other favourites are: 'volksfremd,' 'rassefremd,' 'artfremd,' 'volksfern,' 'fremddeutsch' and 'international.' " 189 The vocabulary is only too familiar to any reader of postwar Soviet criticism. In Westlerisch and Westeuropäisch one readily recognizes inostranshchina ("that foreign stuff") and nizkopoklonstvo zapadu ("kowtowing to the West"). Volksfremd and volksfern are precise equivalents of antinarodnyi ("antipopu1 8 9 H. G. Atkins, German Literature 1941), p. 20.

through

Nazi Eyes (London: Methuen,

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

141

lar"), and artfremd of antikhudozhestvennyi ("antiartistic"). Fremddeutsch is, of course, antinatsional'nyi ("antinational"). Instead of international Soviet critics used kosmopolit, while the Nazi rassefremd became in Communist parlance klassovochuzhdyi ("class-alien"). It is impossible to ascertain whether the Russians borrowed the German terminology or coined a similar one independently; besides, it is not the origin of the terminology that is important. Be that as it may, the usage of such similar vocabulary of invective was—to use a Soviet cliché —"not a mere accident." 190 It appears, however, that the reasons for the suppression of "comparativism" in the last few years of Stalin's rule went deeper than mere chauvinism. As already mentioned, this suppression was imperative in view of Soviet postwar cultural isolationism. If the Soviet critics were to point out Russia's cultural links with Europe in a century gone by, they would, inadvertently, suggest to the Soviet reader a series of probing questions: What has happened to those links? Why is there at present no cultural intercourse between Russia and the West? Is it really possible that countries that once produced literature that left a deep impression on the Russian have nothing to offer now? Who is to blame for the present atmosphere of mutual suspicion and isolation? Is it really only the fault of capitalist warmongers? In periods of strained diplomatic relations between the USSR and the outside world, cultural contacts are among the first to suffer. In the period from 1946 to 1953 the suppression of references to prerevolutionary cultural contacts was but another manifestation of the Soviet custom of rewriting history, of blotting out those records of the past that might raise questions embarrassing to the present. And, conversely, the subsequent years of the "Geneva spirit" and diplomatic smiles re!90A 1949 study of Mamin-Sibiriak quoted one of his letters as testimony of his wisdom and patriotism: "The days of cosmopolites and pan-humans are over; one should simply be a man who does not forget his family, loves his country, and works for the fatherland" (Mamin-Sibiriak, Izbrannye sochineniia, p. xviii). The letter evokes strange associations. After the Nazis occupied France, the traditional republican motto "Liberté—Egalité—Fraternité" was replaced with "Travaille—Famille—Patrie."

14«

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

suited not only in greatly expanded cultural exchanges but also in the resurrection of comparativism in the evaluations of the Russian classics. T h e transition from the relatively objective examination of links with foreign literature—subject only to favoritism or discrimination with regard to individuals, political currents, or particular nations—to the later denials of their very existence was quite sudden. Thus, in 1946 (that is, before Zhdanov's speech that formulated the Party's new cultural policies), it was still possible to state that, while Lermontov was a profoundly original writer, he was fascinated by the titanic figure of Byron and that "Shakespeare and Byron, Schiller and Goethe, Walter Scott, Thomas Moore, Hugo, and many other noted writers of the past and the present broadened his intellectual horizon." 181 A 1950 study—one brought out after Zhdanov's denunciation of "cosmopolitanism"—argued that Western influences on Lermontov had hitherto been greatly exaggerated, while the impact of Russian authors, such as V. F. Odoevskii and Griboedov, had received scant attention. 192 A 1951 comment was more blunt: "Blind tribute to the West led to the distortions of the character of Lermontov's works that are permeated with national interests." 193 Andronikov's 1951 biography of the poet denounced as notorious cosmopolites those critics who had in previous years asserted that Lermontov Avas indebted to Milton, Moore, Vigny, and Byron. 194 One of the most pronounced repercussions of the 1946 decrees on literature and their appeals for the intensification of emphasis on ideinosi' and partiinost' was the reintroduction on a large scale of the old "Party" interpretations of the classics, which had been somewhat neglected during the war. Although reminiscent of the militantly "proletarian" approach to the classics during the early postrevolutionary years, the postwar lei Lermontov, Izbrannye sochineniia, p. 7. 192 Ivanova, Moskva ν zhizni i tvorchestve M. Iu. Lermontova, p. 185. ιβ3 Λί. lu. Lermontov υ russkoi kritike, p. 22. 1B4 Andronikov, Lermontov, p. 121. By Andronikov's criteria all of the betterknown Lermontov scholars—including Andronikov himself!-would qualify as cosmopolites. See Andronikov, Zhizn' Lermontova, 1939, pp. 12-13. It should be remembered that Lermontov himself liked to stress his kinship with the English poet.

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

143

stress on the classics' exposé of the reactionary aspects of Imperial Russia in reality constituted an additional method of indicting the West. By drawing the Soviet readers' attention to the abominable conditions that once prevailed in tsarist Russia, the Soviet critic reminded his audience that very similar conditions prevail at present in the capitalist West. In their analyses of Soviet propaganda techniques, the majority of Western observers usually note only the obviously anti-Western appeals to Russian chauvinism. T h e other more subtle, but perhaps equally effective, approach should not be dismissed lightly. T h e simultaneous appeal to both Russian patriotism and class consciousness is designed to win for the Soviet cause the sympathies of all segments of the population, those nationalistically inclined as well as those more likely to respond to arguments based on humanitarian motives, on the readers' feelings of social justice. T h u s Evgen'ev-Maksimov in his 1946 study devoted only three pages to Nekrasov's father, an unusually cruel and debauched landowner. 196 T h e 1947, that is, post-Zhdanov, biography written by the same author devoted twenty-one pages to Nekrasov père, not counting the seventeen pages describing the cruelty and ignorance of teachers in Nekrasov's school.196 Indicative of this revival of "Party" criticism was the reprinting, in a 1951 anthology, of a Pravda editorial of October 14, 1939, devoted to the one hundred and twenty-fifth anniversary of Lermontov's birth; and of a 1926 article on Lermontov written by Lunacharskii. 197 Reprinting old articles and newspaper editorials is, for obvious reasons, not the usual Soviet practice. T h e renascent "Party" spirit was also evident in the unusual degree of attention devoted to the social satirists among the Russian classics. Their edge was now to be turned against the capitalist West, particularly against the United States. Thus, for example, during the "cold war" no opportunity was missed to draw a parallel between the grotesque victims of Saltykovl»5 Evgen'ev-Maksimov, Nekrasov, pp. 4-6. 196 Evgen'ev-Maksimov, Zhizn' i deiatel'nost' N. A. Nekrasova, pp. 33-54, 112— 29. This, to be sure, is a longer study, but nevertheless the difference in proportionate allocation of space is quite impressive. M. lu. Lermontov ν russkoi kritike, pp. 21, 262 ff.

144

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

Shchedrin and the current enemies of the Soviet Union. In 1951 one critic wrote in reference to certain works of the satirist: "Why, that might have been written about General Eisenhower," the present reader will say. "The American fire-eating conquistador type to the lifel And the detailsl 'Can function in peacetime as newspaper editor. . . . ' Not only as editor, either. General Eisenhower is, in peacetime, a Doctor of History and president of a university" . . . . The "zealous official" appears before us in the uniform of an American General; he speaks English, and no longer has even the slightest doubt that everything on earth is in his power and that he can "shut up" anything and everything he chooses: Europe, China, Communism, the Soviet Union. . . . We Russians are already beginning to forget that feudalism or even capitalism ever existed in Russia, yet it is not as a literary monument that The History of a Certain Town lives on. It is, if you will, a history of the "American way of life." And all the famous governors of that town—the one who had a hurdy-gurdy in his head, and the one with a head stuffed with truffles, and the one who rode into town on a white horse, burnt down the high school, and abolished science—they are all there to see, and can decide among themselves which one of them is Acheson and which Bradley, which is MacArthur and which Austin. . . . And let them not forget Forrestal—he walked right out of Saltykov-Shchedrin.198 During the Tito-Cominform rift, Saltykov-Shchedrin's damning characterizations are brought to mind by many phenomena of the present day. . . . The repulsive image of Judas Golovlyov leers at you in all the speeches and the entire policy of Tito, that traitor to the Yugoslav people.199 According to another critic, in 1953: At times it appears that the capitalist politicians, devoid of honor and conscience, chose the heroes of Shchedrin's satire as a model for their behavior. The Bonn Chancellor Adenauer, who on the eve of elections put on himself the mask of a partisan of peaceful solutions of international problems, clearly follows the footsteps of Little Judas. . . . The satirical characterization of blind hatred of all kinds of "international scoundrels" that is found in the works of Shchedrin helps to unmask the reactionary circles of the United States who are preparing for aggression against the USSR and the people's democracies.200 les Zaslavsky, "M. E. Saltykov-Shchedrin," pp. 167-68. 19« Ibid.., p. 170. 200 El'sberg, Saltykov-Shchedrin: Zhizn' i tvorchestvo, pp. 621-22.

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

145

Similar methods were copiously followed in the many evaluations of the significance of Gogol brought out in 1952 in connection with the centennial of the writer's death: Gogol's satire does more than present scenes from the dismal past of tsarist Russia; it throws light on many aspects of the social order in certain capitalist countries today. . . . Modern capitalist society teems with other Gogol types. Many features of Gogol's Nozdryov are recognizable in the brazen, hypocritical bourgeois diplomats who are obedient servants of AngloAmerican imperialism. Manilovism lives and flourishes among the treacherous, venal flunkeys of imperialism and among those decadent intellectuals who, having alienated themselves from the people, pose as a neutral force in the present struggle between the camp of peace and progress and the instigators of another war. T h e American and British Sobakeviches and Derzhimordas, who have seized power and are now guardians of a fascist police regime, brazenly trample upon all the principles of democracy. 2 0 1

T h e postwar years witnessed the "rehabilitation" of the last remaining major authors of nineteenth-century Russian literature who were hitherto in disfavor because of their political beliefs but who could now aid the Soviet cause with the nationalist spirit of their works—a spirit not too different from early postwar Soviet nationalism—or simply because their publication would result in a measure of good will for the the publisher, the Soviet state. True, some of the works of these authors were still eyed with suspicion by the Soviet critics; but most were lauded for their art, patriotic spirit, and real or alleged "progressive" social significance. Among the more conservative authors whose reputations were restored in the histories of literature—though not without reservations—were Fet, 2 0 2 Sergei Aksakov,203 Leskov, 204 and, most important, Dostoyevsky, the 201 Petrov, "Ν. V. Gogol," pp. 172-73. 202 Malata sovetshaia entsiklopediia, 2d ed., XI, 142, praised Fet as an exceptionally fine poet, noting only that his politics were "conservative" (not "reactionary"!) and that, regretably, he believed in "art for art's sake." 203 Wrote the Large Soviet Encyclopedia: "In his works Aksakov emerged as writer with the conservative Weltanschauung of a member of the gentry. Aksakov's gaze was turned to the patriarchal days of yore. However, the 'unembellished' truthfulness that was so characteristic of Aksakov made it possible for him to give a rather many-sided and honest picture of the landowners' life." (Bol'shaia sovetskaia entsiklopediia, 2d ed., I, 611-12). 204 Some of his works, such as Cathedral Folk, The Musk Ox, No Way Out,

146

OFFICIAL

ATTITUDES

seventy-fifth anniversary of whose death was observed in 1956 throughout the Soviet Union. 205 As for the less controversial writers of the past, in the postwar years the evaluations of their positive significance have become almost uniformly favorable. T h e more radical among them have been hailed for their sympathy to the revolutionary cause, which had, it was suggested, accelerated the breakdown of the old regime, and the subsequent establishment of the Soviet system. The more conservative have been hailed for their warm portrayals of the "splendid national characteristics" of the Russians. And at least some effort has always been made to depict the old authors as both revolutionary and patriotic. It is therefore with a feeling of surprise that one reads in a 1951 study that The one-sided emphasis on the positive aspects in the ideology even of the progressive writers and the ignoring of the negative or the weak aspects of their activity has a completely antiscientific character. Such an interpretation of the past leads to an idealization of history which has nothing in common with Marxism-Leninism.206 For it is precisely this one-sided stress on the "positive" features of the classics that makes it possible to include Russia's literary heritage in the arsenal of the struggle for the Soviet idea. T h e definition of "positive" and "negative" are subject to change with reversals in the Party policy. Russian patriotism, for example, a distinctly "negative" feature in the 1920s, underwent a metamorphosis into "positive" in the 1940s and 1950s. Hatred of tsarist colonialism, definitely "positive" in the the 1920s, turned "negative" in later years. But the stress must always be placed on those aspects of the lives and works of the and At Daggers Drawn, were still condemned as slander of the revolutionary movement, and their artistic merits belittled (see, e.g., Leskov, Izbrannye sochineniia, pp. v-vi). T h e first Soviet multivolume edition of Leskov was inaugurated in 1956, i.e., at the height of the "thaw." 205 Again, this does not mean that all of Dostoyevsky was suddenly found acceptable to the Soviets. A 1952 edition of the Large Soviet Encyclopedia accused Dostoyevsky of ascribing "to the Russian people characteristics that are not typical of it, such as 'meekness' and religiosity. As his ideal he puts forth the most backward and obscurantist characteristics of those days. Unlike the revolutionary democrats, Dostoyevsky linked Russia's great future not to revolution and socialism but to the idealistic notions of refusal to struggle and Christian humility, which would allegedly deliver the people from poverty and slavery" (Bol'shaia sovetskaia entsiklopediia, 2d ed., XV, 149). 208 Nekrasovskii sbornik, p. 16.

OFFICIAL ATTITUDES

147

writers of Russian classics that would make it possible to present them as early forerunners of the Soviet policy of the moment—whether relating to culture, nationality, economics, or foreign affairs. Throughout this chapter an attempt has been made to demonstrate how the Soviet criticism of the Russian classics—not infrequently penned by the same commentators— faithfully follow the zigzags of Party policy. Living Soviet writers are always on guard, ready to support every succeeding state policy with new works of fiction in which the essence of this policy is translated into the language of belles-lettres. T h e classics themselves cannot be brought into line with each successive policy fluctuation. But the Party can and does influence the selection of works for publication and their political-literary exegesis. In presenting to the Soviet readers biographies and analyses of works by authors of the past, Soviet critics constantly face the dilemma of accommodating literary scholarship to Party demands. It should be stressed again that this scholarship is frequently of a very high caliber. If this has not become evident from the numerous quotations included in the preceding chapter, it is only owing to the special concern of this chapter. Our purpose was to examine that particular aspect of the Soviet evaluations of the classics that is least attractive to those interested in the study of the art of the masters of Russian literature, namely, the evidence of the Party's attempts to harness the criticism of the classics for its own political purposes. There are no ways of ascertaining how many of the critics concerned with prerevolutionary Russian literature are militant Communists who believe that the classics should be utilized for the Soviet cause. There can be no doubt, however, that there are also those whose scholarly integrity prompts them to oppose the repeated necessity of sacrificing the truth about the Russian classics to the Party-inspired mythology about them. Of course, even the most biased of the evaluations of the Russian classics written in the Soviet Union contain some truth. The majority consists of facts partly distorted by deliberate omissions, recorded events presented in a false perspective. The Soviet critic is almost never free to tell his readers the whole truth about the old authors and their works.

VI The Russian Classics and the Soviet Readers A letter sent in the early 1920s by the Central Committee of the Communist Party to all local Party organizations emphasized that "the Party cells and the trade unions must convince the masses that all types of printed matter—books, pamphlets, or newspapers—cannot be owned individually but must be used by the community." 1 Most likely the appeal was prompted by the necessity to have the relatively small output of printed matter—there was at the time a very acute paper shortage—serve as many people as possible. T h e directive was also in keeping with the nationalization mania of the early postrevolutionary years which aimed at leaving only a small number of personal possessions in the hands of individuals, declaring the rest collective property. Finally, the circular reflected the Party's distrust of the most likely hoarders of printed matter—the old Russian intelligentsia. With time, paper became more plentiful; the early "collectivizing" excesses were roundly denounced as manifestations of what Lenin had called the "infantile disorder of Leftish Communism"; the ranks of the old intelligentsia had grown thin and a new, Soviet-educated intelligentsia came into being. Thus it became possible partly to replace the old-style mass meetings and public readings of periodicals and books with a more subtle and perhaps more effective approach. T h e Soviet public could now be offered the opportunity to buy and own books and to read them at leisure in the privacy of their homes. i O partiinoi

i soi>etskoi pechati,

p. 237.

THE SOVIET READERS

149

T h e individual acquired the freedom to decide when to read and how to read. T h e state reserved for itself one prerogative— the final decision in the selection of authors and titles offered for sale and available in the lending libraries. At present, according to our estimates, private individuals own approximately 85 percent of all the books in the USSR. T h e Soviets claim to have published within forty years some 20,000,000,000 copies of books. Yet in 1956 only 1,352,021,000 were owned by the Soviet Union's 391,952 libraries. 2 Even if one were to assume that all of the 442,974,000 books owned by the Soviet libraries in 1939 were destroyed during the war, and also to make an allowance for other types of destruction—both natural and state-sponsored—it would appear that less than 15 percent of the entire book output was allocated to the libraries in the forty years of the Soviet regime. 3 Soviet libraries are busy enterprises. T h e "mass" (public) libraries alone, of which there were over 140,000 in 1955, 4 served some 40,000,000 readers that year, lending an average of 18 books and magazines per reader. 5 T h e Soviet public, however, continues to buy huge quantities of books. There are no Soviet statistics on book sales, but these can be approximately calculated from the available data on book output and library holdings. Between 1951 and 1955 the output was 4,581,800,000 copies. 6 Yet library holdings in2 Kul'turnoe stroitel'stvo SSSR, p. 260. See also Appendix B. 3 Ibid. Destruction of politically undesirable books is not unknown in the Soviet Union. "During the first decade of Soviet rule, libraries throughout the Soviet Union suffered through these purges with book losses of at least 60 percent, while in the early thirties book resources were again reduced by 60 percent." While the decree of the Commissar of Education of March 3, 1933, explicitly prohibited any further book purges, the purges continued in the 1930s, and a major one, it seems, was planned for 1941, though it was never carried out because of the outbreak of the war (Arturs Baumanis and Robert A. Martin, "Soviet Book Statistics: A Guide to Their Use and Interpretation," University of Illinois Library School, Occasional Papers, No. 44, December, 1955, pp. 6-7). There can be little doubt that some book burning took place after the war. It is doubtful, for example, whether the writings of Beria and Malenkov were allowed to continue crowding library shelves after their authors were duly exposed as enemies of the Party and the first of them executed. i Kul'turnoe stroitel'stvo SSSR, p. 260. The only figures available were those for 1954, when the number of public libraries was given as 140,125. 5 Ibid. β Calculated from data found in ibid., p. 317.

150

T H E SOVIET READERS

creased only by 579,217,000. 7 Of the remaining 4,000,000,000 copies, some were, no doubt, sent abroad. It seems safe to assume, however, that more than half were sold at home to individuals, resulting in an average of almost 3 copies per capita annually. And sold these books must have been, because since January 1, 1949, publishing houses in the USSR have, on the whole, been "self-supporting." A 1955 Gallup poll showed that only 17 percent of American adults could say that they were "currently" reading a book, as compared with 55 percent in England. British publishers complain as loudly as their American colleagues about the difficulty of selling books, reminiscing fondly about the good old days when theirs was a prosperous business. Yet the fact remains that both in England and in the United States sales were not very good before 1940 either. T h e period of prosperity in book publishing coincided with the Second World War. In embattled Britain, for example, The market, so recently glutted, gradually found itself unable to meet an insatiable demand for books of every description. With the black-out, the complete upheaval of all social life and activities, and a belated desire to learn as much as possible of a world which had made such a catastrophe possible, the public turned to books for "escape" and illumination as never before. . . . Austerity production certainly led to no slackening in the public demand. This outstripped the supply in every field.8 A similar situation was to be observed in the United States: The shortage of toys during the war made juvenile sales soar, and children's books became important money-makers. . . . After the war, however, there was a natural slackening in sales of children's books and many of the new departments ceased to function. 9 Perhaps these facts offer some clues to the reasons for the extraordinary extent of the reading of books in the USSR. A desire to "escape," an interest in keeping abreast of things, a thirst for entertainment—these are the most common motiva7 Calculated from data found in ibid., p. 260. 8 Frank Arthur Mumby, Publishing and Bookselling (New York: Bowker, 1954), pp. 324-25. 9 Chandler B. Grannis, ed., What Happens in Book Publishing (New York: Columbia University Press, 1957), p. 299.

T H E SOVIET READERS

tions of book readers throughout the world. In the Soviet Union books are in a favorable position because they have little competition from their chief enemies as in Great Britain and in the United States. Soviet studios produce fewer than one hundred films annually, whereas the American output alone is close to a thousand. Further, Soviet television is in its infancy and cannot be compared to the American industry or even the British. T h e Soviet reader is also distracted by fewer magazines— in fact, probably fewer than before the Revolution 10—and only an infinitesimal fraction of the Soviet citizenry owns automobiles. Books are thus the most accessible means of instruction and amusement. Nor is it impossible that to many a Soviet citizen book reading is the only kind of privacy available in a society in which ideological collectivism, with its multitude of semicompulsory group activities, is further aggravated by unbelievably overcrowded housing. Different professional and educational groups need and buy different types of books. All of these groups, however, share a common denominator in their reading-belles-lettres. But in examining the astronomical sales figures of all types of belleslettres in the USSR, one must not lose sight of a very important factor—the Russian traditionally loves and respects literature. In prerevolutionary Russian society many writers occupied a position of glamor not unlike that of American movie stars or Spanish matadors. In old Russia belles-lettres were not only entertainment, they were the most important part of education. No person unfamiliar with literature would be accorded the honor of acceptance as a member of the intelligentsia—not even a physician or an engineer. Before 1917 it was considered selfevident that the many societies dedicated to the enlightenment of the peasant masses should not only teach the peasants the Cyrillic alphabet but should also acquaint them with the masterpieces of native literature. 10 The number of journals and magazines (izdaniia zhurnal'nogo tipa) published in Russia in 1913 was 1472; the corresponding figure for 1956 was approximately 2,500 (Pechat· SSSR za sorok let 1917-1951, p. 4). If one considers the tremendous expansion in the number of technical and foreign language periodicals, the number of periodicals of general interest published in Russia is probably smaller than before the Revolution.

152

THE SOVIET READERS

In old Russia fiction sold surprisingly well. As early as the eighteenth century—the century of the establishment of the city of St. Petersburg, of the opening of the "window to Europe," and of the first important contacts with Western civilization—Russian publishers brought out 839 foreign novels in translation as well as 104 original Russian novels; 336 of the former and 55 of the latter were then reprinted at least once. 11 In the 1820s the Russian public bought all kinds of books, but most of all the works of Lomonosov, Kantemir, Kostrov, Ablesimov, Fonvizin, Derzhavin, Kniazhnin, Shcherbatov, Glinka, Karamzin, Zhukovskii, Krylov and others; among translations—RadclifFe, Kotzebue, Walter Scott, Cooper, Chateaubriand, Paul de Kock, Dickens and others. 12 Bulgarin's novel Ivan Vyzhigin appeared on March 26, 1826. Within a week the conceited author informed the public that the second printing had gone to press. . . . Zagoskin was also very popular; within one year there were three editions of lurii Miloslavskii. Pushkin and Gogol sold well at the time. Evenings on a Farm near Dikanka was announced in Severnaia pchela [Northern Bee] on September 29, 1831, and on June 18 of the following year subscription for its second edition was opened. In 1841 Gogol printed his Dead Souls in 2,400 copies which sold out quickly, with half of the printing going to [the more "backward" and "provincial"] Moscow.13 In the hinterlands the tastes were understandably simpler. In the 1860s the inhabitants of T v e r ' bought Paul de Kock and Dumas, though the source points out that it is possible that authors like Pushkin and Gogol had already been purchased by many in previous years. 14 At the beginning of the nineteenth century the few literate peasants bought crudely illustrated picture books with texts and survived for centuries and were still published "Mylord," of which Nekrasov wrote; "The Battle Kabardinians"; "Prince Bova"; and other literary

books that had in 1917: about of Russians and trash. The only

11 Kufaev, Istoriia russkoi knigi, p. 29. 12 Ibid., p. 91. ™Ibid., pp. 105—6. In subsequent years the number of reprints of old editions grew larger. Thus, in 1894, out of 719 issues of fiction 104 were reprints. Five of these had already appeared ten to twenty times each. See ibid., pp. 235-36. 14 Ibid., p. 160.

T H E SOVIET READERS

153

merit of these was their cheapness, which made them accessible to broader masses of people.15 These picture books, like the American comic books of our times, sold much better than more serious literature. "Kashchei the Deathless," a version of the folk tale, was sold in 20,000 copies annually between 1840 and 1886, or a total of almost a million copies. According to a historian of Russian publishing, the peasants enjoyed the booklets about Prince Bova and Yeruslan Lazarevich because they were "more understandable, simpler than Othello or Macbeth"—the same reason which helps to explain the present popularity of "whodunits" and "true confession" stories in all countries where they can be purchased, legally or illegally, whether in Asia or America, in the "free" or the Communist world. Love of "literary trash" is not so much a function of the reader's poor formal education as it is of his intellectual laziness. Slowly, however, good literature began to penetrate into the remote Russian countryside. In the 1880s, peddlers carried in their trunks not only the traditional calendars, interpretations of dreams, anthologies of songs, maxims, and portraits of the tsar, but also short stories by Tolstoy. Publishing houses brought out popular editions of individual works by Pushkin—The Nigger of Peter the Great, "Tale of the Fisherman and the Fish," " T h e Coffin Maker," " T h e Bronze Horseman," and "Poltava." Some publishers brought out—in the form of picture books (lubok)—adaptations of Gogol, Pushkin, Kol'tsov, Krylov, Griboedov, Κ. M. Staniukovich, Korolenko and P. Ia. Mel'shin. The Intermediary (Posrednik) publishing house flooded the village market with Tolstoy, Leskov, Vsevolod Garshin, and others. These booklets with the motto In lumine tuo videbimus lumen began to displace "Kashchei the Deathless" and its like. 16 Some of the once most popular authors have long since been forgotten. At present, most people know the names of M. N. Zagoskin and Bulgarin only because they were contemporaries of Pushkin and Gogol. But, then, best-seller lists are rarely good indicators of durable literary fame. IS Ibid., p. 91. ι « Ibid., pp. 201-4,

225-27.

154

T H E SOVIET READERS

W h a t is surprising is the fact that newly published great literature enjoyed such comparative popularity with the masses of Russian readers of the nineteenth century; that in the 1830s, in a largely illiterate country, Pushkin could support himself with his poetry; that the works of Gogol, Tolstoy, and Leskov did reach the Russian peasants. While examining the tremendous sales of the Russian classics in the USSR, one would be well advised to remember these facts. Economically, tsarist Russia was a backward country, though it began to advance quite rapidly at the end of the last century. Culturally it was one of the advanced countries— in spite of the millions of illiterates in rural areas. Historians usually marvel that this barbaric land could give rise to one of the truly great literatures. What is little known is that the masses who only recently learned the alphabet appreciated this literature. Before the Revolution, books were quite expensive, b u t they sold well. In 1887, on the occasion of the fiftieth anniversary of Pushkin's death, the poet's works appeared in 1,481,375 copies—a fantastically high figure for publishing in any country at that t i m e . " Not all of the prerevolutionary editions of the Russian classics were destroyed d u r i n g the First W o r l d W a r and the Civil War. For a long time there was less need to publish new editions of the classics because a significant n u m b e r of old editions was still to be found in libraries and in private homes. Besides, in the commercial competition between the works of the old and the new writers Various factors favored contemporary Soviet literature. The number of copies printed was for a long time not regulated by expected profit, and consequently was not determined by the demand of the readers. Publishing organizations received subventions and were able to print more copies than could be sold. One remembers complaints that so and so many books remained unsold, and not even delivered to the retail bookstores.18 In addition, by the decree of November 21, 1918, all printed matter brought out by Party and government organs—and many " Ibid., p. 235. 18 George Denicke, Links with the Past in Soviet Society (Department of State, External Research Staff, Office of Intelligence Research, Series 3, No. 84; Washington: 1952), p. 20.

T H E SOVIET READERS

155

works of Soviet writers were sponsored by state and Party organs, particularly in the provinces—was placed on sale in all post offices.19 Russian classics were thus placed at another disadvantage vis à vis Soviet literature. Finally, over the years Soviet criticism extolled the virtues of new Soviet writing while giving only half-hearted approval to prerevolutionary Russian literature. What, then, is at present the position of the Russian classics? Are they, almost half a century after the Revolution, the venerated, praised, and unread books of the type of Pilgrim's Progress? Are they, as Mark Twain defined it, "something that everybody wants to have read and nobody wants to read"? Let us glance at a few statistics. The average number of copies per title of all books published in the USSR in 1958 was 17,300.20 According to an article by Nikolai Lesiuchevskii in Literaturnaia gazeta of May 21, 1959, a typical Soviet novel was published in 1955-58 in approximately 30,000 copies. Considering that during that period there were in the USSR over 400,000 libraries, this would indicate that only one out of thirteen Soviet libraries could be supplied with every new work of Soviet fiction, provided not a single copy was sold to individual readers or exported abroad. However, there is no reason to believe that the demand for new Soviet literature exceeds the supply of books. There can be no doubt that the State would see to it that its citizens and libraries were adequately supplied with Party-inspired Soviet literature. At least we have never seen in the Soviet press any complaints that it is difficult to purchase new works of Soviet literature. 21 The relatively small printings of Soviet literature are a genuine reflection of public demand. Yet it was pointed out at the beginning of this chapter that at present Soviet citizens in all probability buy annually close 19 O partiinoi i sovetskoi pechati, p. 182. 20 Gorokhoff, Publishing in the USSR, p. 200. 21 There have been some exceptions in recent years; some of the "revisionist" works enjoyed great popularity and were sold on the black market at exorbitant prices, sometimes in typewritten form. Among the works thus distributed were Dudintsev's Not by Bread Alone, Ehrenburg's The Thaw, and some works of Pasternak. Needless to say, the demand for such works was not reported in the Soviet press.

156

T H E SOVIET READERS

to three books p e r capita, a n d a good part of their purchases must b e fiction. T h e works of fiction most f r e q u e n t l y purchased by the Soviet citizens, works most f r e q u e n t l y f o u n d in their private libraries, works which are read, reread, a n d studied, are, first of all, the Russian classics and, to a lesser degree, translations of foreign literature. Statistics cited i n T a b l e s 17-2S in A p p e n d i x D indicate that since 1917 the most famous a m o n g the Russian writers of the past h a d their works published in tens of millions of copies, while some, such as Tolstoy a n d Pushkin, have almost reached the h u n d r e d million record. T h e r e is only one Soviet writer whose works have b e e n p u b l i s h e d in a n y t h i n g like these figures—Mikhail Sholokhov. (We do not, of course, consider M a x i m Gorky to be an entirely Soviet writer.) T h e preference for the Russian classics was already very m u c h in evidence on the eve of the Second W o r l d W a r . T h i s fact is s u p p o r t e d by the data gathered in the study of the literary habits a n d tastes of 329 f o r m e r Soviet citizens interviewed in 1950-51 by the H a r v a r d University Russian Research Center. T h e findings p e r t a i n to 1940-41. Russian classics were the most popular category among the belles lettres. They were read and re-read, sometimes for the third and even fourth time, by old and young, university professors and collective farmers, engineers and laborers. . . . Alexander Pushkin and Leo Tolstoy were the most widely read, while Fëdor Dostoyevsky was the most discussed one and seemed to have left the greatest impression. . . . 2 2 In general, it may be said that the tendentious and psychological Russian literature was read by somewhat older and better educated respondents. T h e less educated reported reading much poetry and prose works of an exotic and fantastic character, such as Gogol and Lermontov. This should not imply that the better educated persons do not read this kind of literature; they simply do not care to reread it. . . . 2 3 It is most interesting that, whenever possible, the respondents preferred the same type of literature of non-Soviet origin. . . . This 22 Maurice Friedberg, "Russian Writers and Soviet Readers," The American Slavic and East European Review, XIV, No. 1 (February, 1955), 111-12. as ibid., pp. 113-14.

THE

SOVIET

READERS

157

would seem to explain the repeated re-reading of the classics, a distinction shared by no Soviet author, with the sole exception of Sholokhov.24 There are reasons to believe that this preference for nonSoviet literature continued during the Second World War. A "typical" (or, perhaps, exemplary) Soviet soldier at a dangerous point on the front lines was described by Literatura i iskusstvo (Literature and Art) of February 23, 1944. T h e soldier read the following books: Gogol's Taras Bul'ba (reread it three times), Evenings on a Farm near Dikanka, and The Inspector General; Leo Tolstoy's Tales of Sevastopol and Anna Karenina; Mikhail Sholokhov's Silent Don; Gorky's Mother; and Alexei Tolstoy's Peter the Great. It should be noted that the works o£ Alexei Tolstoy and, to a degree, Sholokhov, are set in a pre-Soviet period and as historical novels are not typical of Soviet literature; they are less guilty of "embellishing reality," as is so frequently the case with novels describing life in the USSR. Conversations with scores of Westerners who have visited the Soviet Union since Stalin's death support the conclusion one reaches from an examination of the Soviet publishing statistics —the Russian classics continue as the favorite reading of Soviet citizens. It is significant that these citizens are not "survivals of the past," as might have been the case in the 1920s and the 1930s. They are, in their overwhelming majority, products of the Soviet educational system. While they attended Soviet schools, they read much of modern Soviet fiction, and they could not be counted among the devotees of the Russian classics. T o recall figures mentioned in an earlier chapter, according to our calculations, in 1933 the Russian classics constituted only 9 percent of the total output of the Children's Publishing House, and only 15 percent in 1940.25 In addition, in the high school 24 Ibid., p. 120. Since questions in the interviews related to 1940, the year when the last book of The Silent Don had a p p e a r e d , " T h e most p o p u l a r a m o n g t h e Soviet authors (and, incidentally, the most widely quoted a u t h o r in general) was Michael Sholokhov; he was mentioned by seventy respondents and nearly u n a n i mously hailed as a great artist, i m p a r t i a l observer a n d t r u t h f u l reporter. The Silent Don was called 'the most t r u t h f u l book in Soviet literature.'" Ibid., p p . 116-17. 2Γ) Bol'shaia sovetskaia cntsiklopediia, 2d ed., XVI, 389, estimates the 1933 output of Detizdat at 7,744,000 copies a n d the 1940 o u t p u t at 21,920,000. T h e Rus-

i58

T H E SOVIET

READERS

literature courses these children were taught that Soviet literature is the literature that mirrors the life of the most progressive and humane society in the history of mankind. They were taught that Soviet writers are free from the ideological shortcomings of their prerevolutionary predecessors and that Soviet literature benefits from the inspiration and guidance of the Communist Party. T h e boys and girls of 193S and 1940 are now adult men and women. And statistics indicate that after leaving Soviet schools their interest in Soviet literature has given way to the prerevolutionary classics. At the same time they have flocked to theaters where such classics are performed. 28 T h e preceding chapters and Tables 13 and 16-22 in Appendix D indicate that the interest in nineteenth-century Russian literature is not limited to the truly great classics but also extends to the lesser works of the great writers as well as to the output of second-rate writers of the past. T h e printings of the complete sets of Pushkin and Tolstoy are out of all proportion to the comparative figures for Goethe and Schiller in Germany, Shakespeare and Dickens in England, or Balzac and Hugo in France. As for the lesser national writers, they are all but forgotten in the West, whereas the works of Russian writers on sian-language juvenile editions of the classics numbered 675,000 copies in 1933 and 3,390,000 in 1940. 26 T h e resolution of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of August 26, 1946 ("On the Repertory of Dramatic Theaters and Measures for Its Improvement") disclosed that Moscow Art Theater's repertory included only three plays on Soviet themes out of a total of twenty, and that things were very much the same in the other leading theaters throughout the nation. Mr. Denicke's study demonstrates that the most popular playwright in the USSR is Ostrovskii, but that other non-Soviet authors also draw a full house and are performed for many months, whereas many Soviet plays close after less than a week. T o make this contrast less conspicuous, Soviet plays tend to be performed on Saturdays and Sundays when tickets are easy to sell (Denicke, Links with the Past, pp. 28-31, 36-37). It is interesting to note that this preference for non-Soviet drama is now very much in evidence in the newest medium—television. Thus, in June, 1959, the Central Committee's theoretical journal Kommunist betrayed much concern over the fact that "in 1958, for example, out of 88 dramatic productions in the Central Studio's television programs only 29 dealt with contemporary topics." (The Current Digest of the Soviet Press. XI, No. 25 [July 22, 1959], 17.) It is safe to assume that the majority of dramatic productions on Soviet television consists of the Russian classics—the same classics that are performed in the majoritv of the theaters and are sold in printed form in hundreds of millions of copies.

T H E SOVIET READERS

159

this level continue to be read in the Soviet Union, their new editions are diligently reported in the press, and their authors' anniversaries scrupulously observed in the literary world. In attempts to explain the unusually high degree of book reading in the USSR, reference has already been made to the fact that Soviet citizens find less distraction from other forms of entertainment. It appears that pronounced partiality to the classics is also to a great extent caused by the character of the other types of reading matter that is made available to Soviet citizenry. T h e USSR, for all the diversity of its social and ethnic make-up, has a remarkably monotonous press. T h e thousands of newspapers and magazines appearing in the Soviet Union differ from each other only in their language—one may be written in Armenian, another in Ukrainian, and a third in Russian. They are almost identical not only in their politics—which is to be expected in a totalitarian state—but even in their style and appearance. T h e Soviet newsstands offer no choice between a Communist Times and a Daily Mirror, between a Ladies' Home Journal and a Reader's Digest. The only allowances for different tastes are those that take into account useful or inevitable peculiarities of the readers. A useful special interest is a professional interest, and there are in the Soviet Union hundreds of specialized technical journals. Inevitable peculiarities are those of age and of nationality, or, more precisely, language—since little allowance is made for such factors as local nationalism, traditions, or religion. Thus grown-up Russians read Pravda; younger Russians read Komsomol'skaia pravda; Russian schoolboys read Pionerskaia pravda. Inhabitants of Alma-Ata read the Kazakh edition of Kazakhstanskaia pravda, and native Tbilisians the Georgian edition of Pravda vostoka. Intellectual and artistic monotony, a meager choice of themes and treatment have also been characteristic of the bulk of Soviet literature since the 1920s. T o o much of this literature suffers—to quote a 1928 resolution of the Central Committee of the Communist Party—from "dryness of exposition, absence of attractive, lively plots, and the abuse of primitive propa-

ι6ο

T H E SOVIET READERS

ganda." 27 T o a reader of Soviet belles-lettres there is something ironically contemporary in the credo of the archreactionary Emperor Nicholas I, who believed that literature "should be a stately, courtly thing, strictly limited and hedged about by a legally enforced decorum as well as by political considerations of the moment." 28 T h e uniform demands imposed on all Soviet writers, which require that every work meet the current standards of ideological tendentiousness (ideinost'), party-mindedness (partiinost'), and an antiquated form of primitive realism known as narodnost', make it very difficult to experiment with new literary forms or to address oneself to a very specific group of readers. True, there are poets and novelists, as opposed to dramatists and short story writers; there are writers specializing in juvenile literature and authors creating in any of the dozens of the languages of the national minorities. But there are hardly any authors who specialize in literature preferred by specific intellectual and emotional groups of readers. There are no Soviet "true confessions" and detective novels, there is little science fiction and travel literature, there is very little of what could be described as psychological drama, and, since the silencing and the subsequent death of Mikhail Zoshchenko, there is little humorous writing of any merit. The pages of Krokodil (Crocodile), the Soviet Union's lone Russian journal of humor and satire, are the best evidence of this fact. Its frankly didactic cartoons and stories are seldom very amusing. T h e Soviet reader cannot choose between a Soviet T . S. Eliot and an Ogden Nash—not that these do not exist; they simply do not appear in print. T h e Soviets do publish an equivalent of Life magazine; but they do not have anything approximating the New Yorker. They print a number of literary magazines, but only of the respectable "thick" variety—there is not in all of the Soviet Union a single "little" magazine devoted to "vanguard" writing. Like the film and television enterprises in the West, Soviet men of letters produce for the "average" audience, 2T O partiinoi i sovetskoi pechati, p. 377. 28 Sidney Monas, "Siäkov, Bulgarin, and the Russian Censorship," in Hugh McLean, Martin E. Malia, and George Fischer, eds., Russian Thought and Politics fCambridge: Harvard University Press, 1957), p. 146.

T H E SOVIET READERS

l6l

they write for the "middle-brows." Any attempt to write (or to compose or to paint) that which would prove comprehensive only to a limited number of people is promptly denounced as a manifestation of "formalism," "bourgeois estheticism," or "boudoir literature"—it is sufficient to recall the misfortunes of Dmitri Shostakovich's opera Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk, and the repeated attacks on the poetry of the late Boris Pasternak, long before the scandal around the publication of Dr. Zhivago. T h e stress on mass production, coupled with deep distrust of any profoundly intellectual works of fiction, has produced in the USSR a lower middle-class, pretentious, respectable, and rather tedious literature. T h e regimentation of Soviet literature has resulted in an unusual degree of didactic and artistic monotony, in a flood of works with cliché plots and predictable outcomes. The serious reader who does not get any new Soviet literary fare that would appeal specifically to him seeks refuge in the old books that were written on a much higher intellectual level, books that do not treat their audiences as children to whom everything must be explained and whom one must constantly teach the virtue of hard work and devotion to one's country and its way of life. It may be for this reason that the intelligent Soviet reader is attracted by books that were written many years ago for adults; it may be for this reason that Adam Wazyk's poem, one of the most eloquent expressions of dissatisfaction in the satellite countries after Stalin's death, was entitled "A Poem for Adults." T h e discriminating Soviet reader rereads the masterpieces of the past and seeks out the less familiar and half-forgotten works and authors to get away from the intellectual adolescence and drabness of the great bulk of newer Soviet literature. The postwar revival of interest in such diverse figures as Blok, Kuprin, Ivan Bunin, Korolenko, Grigorovich, and Briusov is indicative of this trend; it is noteworthy that this interest is particularly directed at authors who wrote at the beginning of this century, that is, those who wrote of Russia on the eve of the Revolution. In a way, the evolution of the literary tastes of the serious Soviet reader is more sensible than that of his Western counterpart. In the West, millions of quite cultivated people read the

lös

T H E SOVIET READERS

great literary classics only in their youth, and this, too, more often than not, under compulsion; as soon as they complete their formal education and, at least officially, reach maturity, they turn to the best sellers, some of them quite elementary. In the USSR exactly the opposite is the case. Children and adolescents read modern Soviet literature, and this is as it should be. For Soviet literature is, really, appropriate literary fare for the juvenile reader. Its conflicts are simple; characters are easily recognizable as either heroes or villains; the author's sympathies are always with "virtue"; there is almost no violence, and sex is never treated too frankly; adventures of hard work or battle for a noble cause are glorified; and the psychological depths are never abysmal enough to frighten a tenyear-old. Hence, it would appear, the tastes of Soviet readers are quite logical—children prefer juvenile books, and adults prefer adult books. Unfortunately, much of Soviet literature is also poorly written, and many young Soviet readers prefer the few available translations of Western literature for children, such as detective stories. Two admissions of this fact were made by Literaturnaia guzeta, in the summer of 1959. The article in the issue of August 12 complained about the "excessive" popularity of the Russian translation of Thor Heyerdahl's Kon Tiki, a well-written account of a sea adventure. The article of June 2 was simply entitled "I'd Rather Have a Book about Spies." Similarly, the less serious adult readers probably prefer the classics not so much because they resent the patronizing didacticism of Soviet literature, or because they really appreciate great literature—though some of them, no doubt, do—but simply because they find so many Soviet writers, particularly of the later vintage, dull. And boredom is the one deadly sin that readers never forgive in the author. As Dostoyevsky expressed it, "The very best book—no matter what its subject and what kind of book it is—is the interesting book." 29 This is why so many translations of no great literary merit but interestingly written, such as The Hound of the Baskervilles or The Three 2β Quoted in Kufaev, Istoriia russkoi knigi, p. 207.

T H E SOVIET

READERS

163

Musketeers, are in such demand. 30 Literaturnaia gazeta of March 19, 1959, quoted the confession of an imaginary director of a wholesale book-distributing enterprise. According to the director, if one were to supply bookstores only with books for which there is genuine demand, one would have to ship "only Home Economics and detective novels." But there may well be other reasons for this preference by adult readers for the Russian classics over works of Soviet literature. There are in prerevolutionary Russian literature two poems entitled "Monument," both modeled after Horace. One is, of course, Pushkin's; the other was written by the eighteenthcentury poet Derzhavin. Pushkin justified his claim to immortality by "awakening good feelings with my lyre, glorifying freedom in my cruel age, and appealing for mercy to the fallen." Derzhavin's merit, in his own words, consisted in having been "the first to proclaim the virtues of Felitsa [the Empress] in the amusing Russian tongue." Pushkin championed the rights of an individual. T h e neoclassicist Derzhavin insisted on the supremacy of the state. Most of the Russian writers of the neoclassical period, that is, of the pre-Pushkin period—Sumarokov, Trediakovskii, Lomonosov—were all staunch believers in placing art at the service of the state. As a Soviet textbook defined it in 1950, The central theme and ideas of classicist art was the cult of the state and civic virtues, to which the personal aspirations of men were to be sacrificed.. . . The task of tragedy was to advocate virtue, to teach the emulation of great deeds, to train the audience to acknowledge the claims of the state. In the hero, duty conquers not so Perhaps similar reasons account for the fact that in Communist China "many people now seek relief and escape by turning to books which give them genuine enjoyment—old romances, Taoist and Buddhist tales, detective stories, love stories, etc. Government drives against such reading matter have thus far failed. T h e People's Daily estimated that in 1955 some 10,000 small book counters in the provincial capitals were selling forbidden literature. In Peking, under the very nose of the Central People's Government, daily readers at illegal book stalls in obscure corners of the city numbered 15,000. On the other hand, only 5,000 dutifully patronized Party-sanctioned reading rooms and cultural places." (C. M. Chang, "Communist China: Fact and Myth," The New Leader, September 24, 1956, Section 2, p. S 14.)

164

T H E SOVIET READERS

only "the tyrant of weak souls," love, but also the aspiration to happiness in those cases "when happiness with obligation cannot be reconciled." 3 1 While Soviet literature claims as its ancestor the literature of "critical realism," that is, the works of the nineteenth-century masters, it has, in fact, much more in common with the writings of the neoclassical authors of the eighteenth century. Unlike Russian literature of the ninetenth century, but very much like that of the eighteenth century, Soviet literature is an instrument of the state, and men of letters are regarded as important state functionaries. Among the features linking neoclassicism with Socialist Realism—and separating both from Russian literature of the nineteenth century—are the division of protagonists into lily-white heroes and black villains, the supremacy of "reason" over "feelings," the frank partisanship of the author, the predictability of the outcome of conflicts, the repeated tributes to the reigning monarch and the state religion, even the deus ex machina denouements. Take another look at the definition from the Soviet textbook quoted above. Does not Socialist Realism hark back to the classical tradition in teaching the "emulation of great deeds," in attempting "to train the audience to acknowledge the claims of the state"? Does not love give way to duty in Soviet literature? In nineteenth-century Russia the individual had few legal guarantees against the tyranny of the society and the state. But his dignity and his aspirations have been upheld by generations of brilliant writers who championed his cause. In Pushkin's "Bronze Horseman" the lowly clerk raises his fist at the statue of the mighty tsar; the rebel and the nonconformist stand firm in the works of Lermontov; Turgenev's serfs quietly but persistently affirm their human dignity; the passive Chekhovian heroes dream of a better world. Further, the works of Russian literature of the nineteenth century are permeated with tolerance and understanding, com31 Quoted in Peter Yershov, Comedy in the Soviet Theater (New York: Praeger, 1956), p. 216. See also the definition of neoclassicism in Bol'shaia sovetskaia enUiklopediia, 2d ed., X X I , 370: "Classicism required the subjugation of private, personal interests to tasks of state-wide significance."

THE

SOVIET READERS

165

passion and pity. Who is "right" in Turgenev—the "fathers" or the "sons" ? Are all the Russians "good" and all the French invaders "bad" in Tolstoy's War and Peace? Is Dostoyevsky's Promethean Ivan Karamazov a "negative" character and his pious brother Alyosha a "positive" one? Is Madame Ranevskaya the "villain" and Trofimov or Lopakhin the "hero" in Chekhov's Cherry Orchard? Is Goncharov's Oblomov simply a lazy parasite? Is Pushkin's Eugene Onegin just a blasé nobleman? Should Anna Karenina be condemned automatically because she was an adulteress? What about Catherine in Ostrovskii's Thunderstorm? Does Gogol's downtrodden, colorless, and unimaginative Akakii Akakievich deserve any sympathy? Perhaps some Soviet readers turn to the Russian classics for moral support in an otherwise hopeless conflict with an omnipotent state. Perhaps they seek in these books confirmation of the belief that human beings have a right to be different, even to be wrong; that to err is human; that "perfect" people are dull; that the intrinsic value of men and women cannot be appraised simply by their standing in society; and, above all, that human beings have a right to fight for their little personal happiness, even if this conflicts with duties imposed on them from above. Perhaps they turn to the nineteenth-century classics for reassurance that men and women can go wrong through no fault of their own, for affirmation of the existence of the "tragic" element in human destinies—an explanation conspicuously absent from the great bulk of Soviet literature. All the more significant are the few exceptions—the tragic heroes of Sholokhov's Silent Don, Leonid Leonov's Thief, Mikhail Bulgakov's Days of the Turbins, and the baffled little men in the tales of Babel and Zoshchenko—writers whose Communist partisanship has not obstructed their vision as observers of life. On the whole, however, doomed heroes are extremely rare in Soviet literature with its Spartan intolerance of nonconformism and weakness. For tolerance, love, sympathy, solace, for advice without moralizing, the Soviet reader has no alternative but to turn again to the old classics of Russian literature and to foreign belles-lettres in translation. For, from the point of view of the Soviet reader, foreign belles-lettres, including those

ι66

T H E SOVIET

READERS

written by contemporary left-wing authors, in essence resemble the Russian classics. T h e foreign authors, too, sympathize with the underdog and hate the oppressor; they also defend the individualist and the nonconformist in his conflict with intolerant society; they, too, affirm the tragic element in human lives. Thus, the Soviet reader devoted to the Russian classics is also likely to demonstrate a strong intellectual and emotional attraction to Hamlet and Othello, Les Misérables and Madame Bovary, Faust and Don Quixote—an attraction much stronger than to the psychologically false and artistically inferior mass of newer Soviet writing. 32 There have been precedents in Russia for this concentration of public interest on literature of a bygone era. In the age of Catherine the Great, old foreign books were always changing hands, multiplying in manuscripts, becomingowing to the lack of new foreign books and attractive Russian books—the center of attention, offering their owners and readers the time to concentrate on the contents of thought that these old books courageously retained in themselves.33 When there is little attraction in new books, one can read the old ones again and again; a touching scene of such rereading is to be found in Pasternak's Doctor Zhivago. As William Hazlitt noted in his essay "On Reading Old Books": "When I take up a work that I have read before (the oftener the better) I know what I have to expect. T h e satisfaction is not lessened by being anticipated." 32 A fascinating exception are some of the works of Soviet literature that appeared during the few "liberal" years between Stalin's death and the Hungarian Revolution. Though written by Communist writers, they bear much resemblance to the great nineteenth-century Russian classics in the ideology they espouse. As Mr. Gibian justly notes in his recent book: "Again the writer is praising the lone hero who is going against the system; again he is revealing the iniquities of the rulers and of the social structure of the country. . . . As in nineteenthcentury literature, the nonconformist and the outcast again stand for justice and humanity, the man in power for tyranny and dehumanization." (George Gibian, Interval of Freedom: Soviet Literature during the Thaw, 1954-1957 [Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1960], p. 143.) 33 Kufaev, Istorila russkoi knigi, p. 207.

VII "Bourgeois" Literature in a "Socialist" Society Are we justified in juxtaposing prerevolutionary Russian literature to that of the postrevolutionary period? T h e official Soviet view is that the two should not be contrasted; indeed, that they complement each other, and that Soviet Russian literature is an extension of the prerevolutionary Russian belles-lettres. Since the Second World War in particular, it is no longer the new, Communist element that is emphasized in the Soviet studies of contemporary Soviet literature; on the contrary continuity was emphasized in studies that attempted to prove that Soviet writers were carrying on the literary traditions of the great figures of the past. Thus it was "discovered" that the revolutionary verse of the famous Soviet poet Maiakovskii stems directly from the verse of Pushkin. 1 But is Soviet literature in reality a continuation and consummation of the best traditions of prerevolutionary letters? Is "socialist realism" a logical step forward from "critical realism"? Is Simonov a descendant of Lermontov? Is Bednyi a continuator of Khemnitser and Krylov? D i d Shkvarkin and Kataev take over where Gogol and Griboedov left off? Are the epic chants of Kriukova glorifying Lenin and Stalin a part of the ancient tradition of the Russian byliny? However academic such questions may appear, it is worth pointing out that in literary form there is indeed a large degree of continuity. Apart from the innovating early period— Mayakovsky and the Futurists are the best examples—Soviet 1 Ernest J . Simmons, ed., Continuity and Change in Russian and Soviet Thought (Cambridge, Mass.: H a r v a r d University Press, 1955), p p . 464-65.

ι68

"BOURGEOIS"

LITERATURE

writers have generally been content to follow the form of nineteenth-century prose, poetry, and drama. In fact, the best of Soviet literature, especially fiction, has often been produced under the direct influence of the works of some of the great classical writers. It is not too difficult to establish the impact of Tolstoy on the major novel of Sholokhov, of Gogol on the short stories of Babel, and of Dostoyevsky on early Leonov. But there is also another valid criterion for answering the question of literary continuity, namely, the reception accorded the old classics and the new literature by Soviet readers. And all information available points to the fact that Soviet citizens do not accept all of Russian literature as one indivisible whole. They divide it into two parts—the prerevolutionary classics and Soviet literature. Publishing statistics demonstrate that the preference for all types of literature is not based on literary merit or even on partiality for specific genres. An edition of Fonvizin's plays may appear in half a million copies, but not even the most successful Soviet comedy has ever approached the size of such a printing. Eminently talented Soviet authors of the stature of Fedin or Leonov cannot compete with such second-rate classics as Mamin-Sibiriak or Uspenskii. These findings also received strong support in my study of the literary tastes of former Soviet citizens which was referred to in the preceding chapter (pp. 156-57). Many of the respondents enjoyed and preferred prerevolutionary Russian and translated foreign literature—even works of little literary value and some not very interesting ones—simply because these were "nonpolitical." They repeatedly voiced resentment of the fact that, as Simmons defined it, T h e primary purpose of literature in the Soviet Union is to instruct, and the obligation of the writer is to employ his medium to instruct in conformity with the spirit and letter of the latest ideological position of the Communist Party. 2

A typical comment Avas: "Classics are better than the Soviet writers, there is no comparison." 3 When given a choice between 2 Ernest J. Simmons, Russian Fiction and Soviet Ideology: Introduction to Fedin, Leonov, and Sholokhov (New York: Columbia University Press, 1958), p. 1. 3 Maurice Friedberg, Literary Habits and Tastes of Former Soviet Citizens (MS, Harvard University, Russian Research Center, 1953), p. 85.

"BOURGEOIS"

LITERATURE

169

the moralizing Soviet literature and the old literature of Russia, the respondents overwhelmingly chose the latter. A spiritually and ideologically healthy society is, in our view, characterized in its literary tastes by a balance between the interest in new writing and in the old heritage. An unusually strong appeal of literature of the past coupled with apathy with regard to the new is, we believe, a disquieting sign—even if the old literature includes some of the greatest masterpieces of the art of writing. Certain Greek and Roman classics, for example, were rather widely read in the Middle Ages because contemporary writing had little appeal. And conversely, the Renaissance reader had a healthy respect for the best among the authors of the past—for Homer, Sophocles, Virgil, Horace—but his reading was supplemented by new authors—Dante, Petrarch, Boccaccio, Rabelais. In the USSR a constant effort is made to achieve a similar balance, and writers are repeatedly exhorted to create works that will reflect the "glory of our epoch." Until now such attempts have failed. As Simmons puts it, "the Soviet Union, in the forty years of its existence, has not produced a significant national literature. . . . Its literary product has no claims to inclusion in the treasury of world art." * It is true that Soviet literature includes some very fine works; their number, however, is not large enough to permit the reader to select a healthy balance of old and new literature. Soviet authorities, while still hopeful of achieving this balance, seem for the time being to have resigned themselves to the present state of affairs and, to a large extent, concentrate their efforts on the exploitation of the political potential of literature that already exists and that commands what seems to be an insatiable market. The classics of Russian literature are published on an unprecedented scale, although, it should be stressed again, the final decision on which works are to be published, when, and in how many copies, is that of the Soviet authorities alone. As a Soviet critic admitted in 1950, "strange as it may seem, at present nobody studies seriously the Soviet reader, nobody studies his demands, interests, nobody studies 4 Simmons, Russian Fiction and Soviet Ideology, p. 5.

170

"BOURGEOIS"

LITERATURE

the needs of the various strata and categories of Soviet read1ι κ

ers. s As pointed out in Chapter V, the commentaries incorporated in the popular Soviet editions of the Russian classics attempt to exploit the popular appeal, esteem, and moral authority of the old authors for the purposes of the Soviet state. It is impossible to determine how widely read are these Soviet evaluations of the classics. One can be certain, however, that they are read by far fewer persons than the classics themselves. Furthermore, literature teaches most effectively by innuendos, not by explicit sermons—of which these evaluations are fine examples. Soviet authorities must therefore decide whether the impact of the Soviet commentaries and the gratitude for making available masterpieces of Russian literature to their two hundred million citizens will outweigh the influence of the classics themselves. For the classics, even the most "progressive" ones, are carriers of non-Soviet ideology. T h e y contain some of the most impassionate denunciations of thought control and economic exploitation, moral hypocrisy and political tyranny found in any literature. Which will prove the greater influence? Will the reader be convinced by the assurances of the Soviet-produced forewords and commentaries that the classics denounced evils peculiar only to the feudal and capitalist system and are thus to be considered early forerunners of the Soviet "socialist" ideology? Or will the reader simply appreciate the classics as sheer art? Or, perhaps, will the intelligent reader go deeper and construct in his mind a series of politically dangerous parallels? Will he, perhaps, think twice after reading Lermontov's lines about blue uniforms and the obedient people? Will he agree with Dostoyevsky's Grand Inquisitor that human beings are happier under the rule of benevolent despots than in a society of free men? Will the Soviet reader be tempted to think in s G. Lenobl·, "Sovetskii chitatel' i khudozhestvennaia literatura" (The Soviet Reader and Belles-Lettres), Novyi mir (The New World), No. 6 (June, 1950), p. 205.

"BOURGEOIS" LITERATURE

171

concrete terms about the totalitarian system envisaged in The Possessed? Will he repeat, with Gogol's Ivan Ivanovich, "In this world life is dreary, gentlemen" ? Will he remain certain that Saltykov-Shchedrin's Pompadours and Pompadouresses all disappeared from Russia on November 7, 1917? T h a t a Judas Golovlyov can quote only religious scriptures and drive people to insanity? That the satire of the succession of monsters in The History of a Certain Town is presently applicable only to capitalist rulers? Will the reading of Pushkin or Turgenev leave him unshaken in the belief that peasants are unhappy only when exploited by individual masters? Is it not possible that in 1957 some Soviet readers mighc have diawn in their minds subversive parallels between Ogarev's defense of the Polish insurgents and Herzen's violent denunciation of Russia's interference in the Hungarian revolution and the events of their times? Will any contemporary Soviet readers repeat the question posed many years ago by Nekrasov: "Who can be happy and free in Russia? " More important—are not some of the moral values found in the Russian classics in flagrant contradiction to those preached by the Soviet state? Is not the spirit of moderation and compromise that permeates the works of Turgenev the opposite of Communist intransigeance? Does not Dostoyevsky belie the assertion that religion is merely an opiate for the people and that addicts to this narcotic are simple and backward men? Do not his writings suggest that faith may aid reason rather than clash with it? How is the reader to reconcile Pushkin's glorification of the permanence of human friendship with the Soviet practice of renouncing old comrades on the slightest hint "from above" ? How is a Soviet youngster to reconcile the Soviet "hero" Pavlik Morozov, who denounced his parents to the police, with the sentiments of, say, young Bazarov or Kirsanov from Fathers and Sons? What about the contrast between the irreverent attitude toward political authority in the classics and Soviet reality? What of Tolstoy's "do good even unto the unjust" ? What of the millions of copies of the fables of Krylov, some of which must be memorized by every Soviet schoolboy—fables that

172

'BOURGEOIS"

LITERATURE

preach such traditional virtues as truthfulness, honesty, goodness, charity, modesty, prudence, justice? D o not these h e l p to unmask pretense and hypocrisy? D o they not help to discover that even the Soviet Emperor may, after all, be naked? In Soviet criticism one occasionally finds admissions that the classics may backfire against those who have made them available. T h u s , according to a 1935 article in the Little Soviet Encyclopedia, Dostoyevsky's writings provided ammunition to the enemies of collectivism: At present . . . Dostoyevsky's influence is weakened. . . . [But] his works are one of the primary sources of every ideology hostile to us, and for this reason we must know it. . . . We must study the many methods through which Dostoyevsky preached ideas that are hostile to us, we must learn the art of the great master of propaganda by means of literature, so as to be able to fight better against his ideas, whichever modernized guise these may assume.6 Even during the post-Stalin "thaw" in 1955 a Soviet critic warned: "Even at the present time [the forces of] reaction, the churchmen and other obscurantists attempt to use his [Dostoyevsky's] works for their dark purposes." 7 β Malata sovetskaia enlsiklopediia, 2d ed., IV, 81-82. 1 Vladimir Seduro, Dostoyevski in Russian Literary Criticism, p. 304. An interesting case of a classic "in action" was reported in the summer of 1957 from Hungary. T h e event took place only a few months after the suppression of the revolution. T h e report is reproduced here from East Europe, VI, N'o. 9 (September, 1957), 41: " T h e Scene: T h e Opera House in Szeged, the second largest city in Hungary. " T h e Performance: 'Fidelio' by Beethoven. " T h e Plot: A revolutionary fighter against oppression and tyranny is jailed, but in the end his cause wins, his oppressor is routed. " T h e Audience: Angrily demonstrating. " T h e Source: Delmagyarorszag (Szeged), J u n e 16, 1957. 'It has often happened that reactionary forces have tried to place classics of the world and Hungarian literature in the service of their political machinations. T h a t is exactly what took place during the performances of "Fidelio" in the National Theater of Szeged. Performance after performance there were groups among the audience who used this glorious masterpiece of Beethoven to stage demonstrations which could not be misunderstood." "Commentary: By the theater manager, one Gyula Kertesz: Ί was greatlv surprised. . . . All I can say is that perhaps at a time when the people's sentiments were stirred u p by counterrevolutionary and fake democratic slogans, the choice of the opera was not very fortunate.' "According to The New York Times (July 10, 1957, p. 3) the manager of the theater told newspapermen that now 'the real historical background of the opera' would be explained to the audiences. 'In addition we shall change a few scenes,' he said."

"BOURGEOIS" LITERATURE

*73

There were some grounds for the apprehensions of the Soviet critics; Dostoyevsky, indeed, is a powerful carrier of anti-Soviet ideology. One respondent in the Harvard interviews, a twentynine-year-old Young Communist League organizer, said: I was interested in the question: why do we live and for what do we live? I came to the conclusion that there must be something higher and not understandable for the human thought. Then the works of certain writers taught me to think about this subject, like Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy.8 And The Brothers Karamazov was a landmark in the life of a thirty-seven-year-old schoolteacher: I think that the greatest influence on my religious formation was Dostoyevsky's Brothers Karamazov. I read the novel four times and all the time I found in it something new and refreshing. . . . Due to the powerful voice of Dostoyevsky my faith became very strong.9 Sporadic reports of the more recent visitors to the USSR tend to support our impression that the Russian classics are the spiritual mainstay of the more disaffected segments of the population. Marvin L. Kalb, an American newspaperman, writes: I met a girl in the library who volunteered, after a discussion of America and nylon stockings, that she detests Soviet novels. "I read only Russian novels now—Russian novels of the nineteenth century. We are all—me and my friends—sick and tired of politics in art. We want art again, real art. Here, things are just not right; they are far from good. We crave art, clean art." 10 Harry Schwartz of the New York Times reported: "There was the doctor who said, 'We have been told so many lies so often that now we believe nothing. But we do know what the truth is, for we have read Tolstoy, Chekhov and Gogol.' " 11 Alfred Geduldig, an American political scientist, described his encounters in 1959 with representatives of the nonconformist 8 Maurice Friedberg, "Russian Writers and Soviet Readers," The American Slavic and East European Review, XIV, No. 1 (February, 1955), 112. »Ibid. 10 Marvin L. Kalb, "Soviet Youth: The 'Bewildered Generation,'" New York Times Magazine, July 28, 1957, p. 52. 11 Harry Schwartz, "The Dilemma That Plagues the Kremlin," New York Times Magazine, November 11, 1956, p. 72.

174

"BOURGEOIS"

LITERATURE

stilyagi, Soviet Russia's new " b e a t generation." At a party one of his " b e a t " acquaintances interrupted to ask what I thought of pre-Soviet literature. My short, general appraisal was highly favorable, and the nods of agreement I saw around the room filled me with a strangely rich satisfaction. T h e more staid members of Russian society read Tolstoy, Chekhov, Lermontov and Pushkin. But the favorite of the Quiet Rebels was Dostoyevsky. . . . T h e Stilyagi's opinion of Soviet literature was somewhat less than enthusiastic. Obviously they were embarrassed by the artistic change that had taken place, and switched the subject to Western literature. Hemingway is among their favorites and they read Balzac for his realism, ribaldry and sentiment. 12 It does not follow, of course, that the classics exert a similarly strong political influence on the millions o£ their readers. In the eighteenth century, according to f a m o u s historian Kliuchevskii, Ideas and words changed emotions without affecting the system; they softened the sensibilities without improving social mores and relations. This separation of thought from deed is the most characteristic feature of educated Russians of the age of Catherine the Great. 1 3 It would b e i m p r u d e n t to b e dogmatic a b o u t the "practical" a n d immediate repercussions of the reading of the classics in the U S S R . S o m e observations, however, are in order. In the first place, the u n u s u a l interest in the classics suggests a great degree of interest in non-Soviet life a n d values. Moreover, this interest is not purely historical, for Soviet citizens are periodically r e m i n d e d that tsarist R u s s i a was not a u n i q u e phenomen o n b u t that it was a capitalist country with a social and econ o m i c structure not u n l i k e that of the other capitalist states. Hence, a Soviet reader of T o l s t o y or Chekhov may well assume that the classics offer h i m a glimpse of the outside world in the m i d d l e of the twentieth century. Soviet authorities, of course, h o p e that the portrayals of the economic injustices of capitalism in the classics will strengthen the reader's allegiance to the present system of government in the Soviet U n i o n . There 12 Alfred Geduldig, "Russia's Quiet Rebels," The New Leader, June 29, 1959, p. 11. 13 Quoted in Kufaev, Istorila russkoi knigi, pp. 42-43.

"BOURGEOIS"

LITERATURE

175

is no assurance, however, that this result will be achieved, for in many cases the classics portray economic conditions that are not inferior to those in the Soviet Union, and this is true of portrayals not only of the aristocracy but also of the middle classes and occasionally even of the peasants. But infinitely more important is the treatment of human relations in prerevolutionary Russia that is found in the classics. Not a few of the classics portray a more serene, more stable, and safer society, to which the Soviet reader may well feel attracted and which he may contrast with the tense, competitive, and uncertain life around him. It is not at all impossible that nearly half a century after the Revolution and in the age of Sputnik many a Soviet citizen looks with nostalgia at the trusting, innocent heroes of prerevolutionary literature. T h e cozy nests of gentlefolk of Pushkin and Turgenev, the cheerful, sleepy landowners of Gogol and Goncharov, the unhappy lovers of Ostrovskii, the irresistibly charming families of Tolstoy, the ineffectual dreamers of Chekhov—all these can exert considerable attraction on a reader who is repeatedly told that a happy and meaningful existence is possible only under the Soviet system and that the Marxist-Leninist doctrine provides definitive answers to all dilemmas of human life. T h e classics offer alternative answers and as such their importance is hard to overestimate. They furnish the most important frame of reference available to Soviet citizens in appraising their own society. Comparatively little new literature is exchanged between the Soviet and non-Soviet worlds. T h e Soviet social sciences and humanities are restrained from establishing any effective and permanent contact with contemporary Western thought; there is but a trickle of tourism and personal exchanges between the USSR and the non-Communist countries; and the Soviet government prevents the Western press and radio from reaching the mass of Soviet citizenry. Under such conditions the Russian classics are the most significant spiritual bridge linking the two worlds. These are the only books that are readily available in both of these worlds and are widely read in both. T h e major authors of nineteenth-century Russia are the common cultural and spirit-

176

"BOURGEOIS"

LITERATURE

ual heritage o£ Russia and the West. The ethical and moral values contained in the Russian classics are part of European libertarian and humanist tradition. The extraordinarily wide reading of these books in the Soviet Union indicates that this message also strikes a responsive chord in Soviet men and women. With the growth of literacy, and consequently a greater degree of inquisitiveness, more and more Soviet citizens, in keeping with the old Russian tradition, turn to literature for answers about the problems of their daily lives and of human condition in general. But their questions are not adequately answered by the intellectually primitive, dogmatic, drab, and artificially optimistic bulk of Soviet literature. Hence they turn to the same books that guided, inspired, and entertained their fathers—the Russian classics. Almost a half a century after the coup d'état of November 7, 1917, we are witnessing the realization of the prophecy of Evgenii Zamiatin, the Cassandra of revolutionary Russia, author of We, the gloomy panorama of a totalitarian state which antedates Orwell's 1984. As early as 1921 Zamiatin wrote: I am afraid that we won't have real literature as long as Russia's citizenry is looked upon as a child whose innocence must be protected. I am afraid that we won't have real literature until we cure ourselves of a certain new catholicism which fears every word of heresy in no lesser degree than the old. And should this disease prove to be incurable, I am afraid that Russian literature has but one future—her past.14 E. Zamiatin, Litsa (Faces) (New York: Izdatel'stvo imeni Chekhova, 1955), pp. 189-90.

APPENDIX A

Book Output Statistics TABLE 1 Book Output of Imperial and Soviet Titles and Copies per Year Year 1848 1887 1888 1889 1890 1891 1892 1893 1895 1901 1908 1909 1910 1911 1912 1913 1914 1915 1916 1917 1918 1919 1920 1921 1922 1923 1924 1925 1926 1927 1928

Titles 766 5,442 4,317 6,420 6,242 6388 7,188 7,783 8,699 10,318 23,850 26,630 29,050 32,360 34,630 34,000 32,330 26,000 18,170 13,140 6,600 7,500 5,300 6,500 11,400 14,825 14,434 32,304 33,540 33,358 34,767

Copies (in thousands) 766 18,540 17,395 18,778 18,353 22,918 24,820 27,225 35313 58329 75,860 101,460 109,990 123,790 133360 118,830 130,160 107,900 109,140 140,000 69,400 82300 57,100 44,200 54,700 84,700 139,900 303,100 224,300 226,100 270300

Year 1929 1930 1931 1932 1933 1934 1935 1936 1937 1938 1939 1940 1941 1942 1943 1944 1945 1946 1947 1948 1949 1950 1951 1952 1953 1954 1955 1956 1957 1958

Russia:

Titles 42,284 50,954 54,646 51,708 44,420 44,945 43,271 43,641 37,647 40,336 44348 45,830 39,800 17,700 15,900 17,300 18,353 23,368 30,247 40,020 41,803 43,060 42,696 43,135 41,027 50,109 54,732 59,530 58,792 63,641

Copies (in thousands) 398,800 867300 851,700 555,100 493300 481,400 463,100 574,800 677,800 698,600 714,600 462,203 547,900 399,300 228,300 218,200 298,000 467,887 544,200 616,800 683 300 820329 757,300 851,000 961,500 996,962 1,015,028 1,107,486 1,047,266 1,103,000

SOURCES: Data for 1848 appears in Kufaev, Istorila russkoi knigi, p. 113; for 1887-1901 in ibid., pp. 217-18. Kufaev's statistics include only Russian-language books. At that time non-Russian books constituted approximately 25 percent of the total number of titles and 20 percent of the total number of copies. Statistics for 1908-58 are from Gorokhoff, Publishing in the USSR, pp. 199-200. GorokhofTs table is entitled "Books and Pamphlets"; however, the distinction between the two is not clearly established.

APPENDIX A s ε ο ι> ο £

«ε κ «21 ο m ία oo ^ o co oc Γ" oc o^ r» ift £ S es. ί-ο ^oi "Ί ο ΐ; r-^ ^r ^ ooc — —" — oc ci r» — (Ν ° ? s « k* C =3 β- ο ί•S gra Ο a ¿••S •Ç«3 3«Λ .ξ ^ SM rt sυ i η. ε «.Ξ ** Λ Λ flj c 7 M υ m φ oo ifì βο oc S «ηΟ wΓ^oo σι »λο σ. Já s S Ο •Çο«">«»ηοο ν οοοs S. ο^ Ν« t«m* t Ο • o .C S „ c í Et uí - l· c c?.2 o kj « " Βΐ η im ía¿ g Λ ΊΧ Χ S V δ ·2 - ¿ λ ν) π 3 5 α. « Έ I s J υ Η 5δ ε "g ¿ JZ •u u a m O ^Ο C —· Γ»ft ΟΓδ Ο 00sf 00 ° OS S "1 'Τ. U ·α M • ~ cΛ Λe «C o" tí« m Voft Ο οο *λ OÎ βο Ν 3 u r .s ue o^ c c « — σ> • Β >·.» > Ο Ο Cl Ν ιΛ ¡ Χ * S Έ r r^ to οο βο oφ — ο«_βοr-^οο 2 c O u UΛ g¿z η S c E oa « τm* νefjΛo Λ lílr-" ΙΛϊ CM 00 « δ-s Β h2 ' I I " m ·· i ärt 'S C 2? 00 Ο mΟ 4ft »ft »ft inΓ- i * an Cl Q ^ Μ rf £ Ο) σ σι φ σ> οι a "" S "o c .S S S S 2_ o

***

a

>

BOOK O U T P U T

»79

STATISTICS

TABLE 3 Soviet Book and Pamphlet Output by Subject Matter in 1957 Titles 8,048 1,395 3,727

Copies (in thousands) 158,987 26,099 127,519

Subject metter Political, social, economic t Military Science Technology, industry, transportation. communication, municipal services t Trade, procurement Agriculture t Health, medicine Physical culture, sports Culture, education+ Linguistics t Works on literature t Belles-lettres (including children's literature) Art Religion, atheism Press, bibliography Reference, general

17,708 · 612 7,582 2,806 811 3,736 1,545 950 6,548 1,352 117 1,781 74

338,230 10,325 2,291 9,299 2,621

Total

58,792

1,047,266

103,773 · 19,353 54,114 33,877 9,631 31,742 92,083 27,322

• Estimated. t Including school textbooks. SOURCE: GorokhoS, Publishing in the USSR, p. 201.

Distribution

TABLE 4 of World Book Output (Titles Only) by Subject Matter in 1954: Soviet Estimates Great Britain

West Germany

Subject matter Political, socioeconomic Exact science and medicine Applied science, technology, agriculture Linguistics Belles-lettres Art

USSR

United States

6,274

3,043

4,044

5,002

6,401

2,529

2,864

4,561

707

1,397

1,110

885

791

274

25,891 1,497 5,261 1,142

1,583 181 4,466 624

2,149 646 4,836 996

2,718 582 7,634 1,010

2,196 378 4,084 738

2,287 a 3,634 518

1,279 421 2,279 674

Total

54,732

11,901

19,837

19,188

16,240

10,662

8,514

Japan

France

Italy

• No data in source. SOURCE: Strany sotsializma i kapitalizma ν tsifrakh, Statisticheskie materialy dlia propagandistου, pp. 111-12. Statistics for non-Soviet countries were calculated by the Soviet compiler.

APPENDIX Β

Library Holdings in the USSR TABLE 5 Libraries Year 1935 1939 1951 1952 1953 1954 1955 1956 1957

in the USSR and Their Total no. of libraries 115,542 240,950 351,137 368,136 383,850 388,127 390,400 391,952 394,000

Book

Holdings

Total no. of volumes (in thousancLs) 298,895 442,974 713,936 830,848 1,035,766 1,170,772 1,293,153 1,352,021 1,510,000

NOTF.: As can be seen from Table 6, Soviet statistics include book collections which are not considered "libraries" in the United States, such as those owned by resorts, clubs, government offices, etc. T h e book holdings of such Soviet "libraries" are not infrequently limited to less than fifty volumes. SOURCES: T h e data for 1957 appears in SSSR ν tsifrakh, p. 367; for other years in Kul'turnoe stroitel'stvo SSSR, p. 260.

Types

of Libraries

TABLE 6 and Their Book Holdings

Type No. Public (includes clubs) Research (independent and institutional) Institutions of higher education Tekhnikums and other special secondary schools Trade schools and Labor Reserve schools Elementary, seven-year and ten-year academic schools Orphanages Technical libraries of industrial enterprises, MTS, sovkhozy, forestation stations Administrative organs, Party and public organizations Hospitals, clinics, sanatoria, resorts Other libraries ·

of libraries 140,125 2,168 775 3,705 2,773

Λ'ο. of volumes (in thousands) 438,785 98,727 114,263 58,930 17,106

186,090 5,319

142,431 11,139

8,990

36,383

15,526 3,350 19,306

90,268 5,307 157,433

• Probably includes military libraries, prison libraries, etc. Kul'turnoe stroitel'stvo SSSR, p. 260.

SOURCE:

in 1954

LIBRARY HOLDINGS IN T H E

l8l

USSR

TABLE 7 Book

and. Periodical Holdings (by Subject Category) Public Libraries of the USSR Ministry of (As of January 1, 1956) Subject category Socio-political Natural science and mathematics Technology and engineering Agriculture Fiction, poetry, drama Juvenile Others Total

SOURCE:

Kul'turnoe

of the Culture

No. of volumes 80,225,000 18,245,000 19,167,000 35,377,000 134,590,000 47,244,000 45,979,000 380,979,000

stroiteVstvo SSSR, pp. 264-65.

60,565

M

•o, o υ

"SS «_ SΐΓ e a

s o h o 3 •β· o S: _ I — oo

t u

•Ç ^

H u . 3!

lì

•S si

s

S

..

3

βη 00 ^ O M OÌ — O» 1« ift 00tfi00 f-· eo m

o U

η •o

I •O

HÄ

¡s φ οο σ*

»|Q -η (S on οί

m ^ -ν »η

a cc OI H *£> en οο ο

2 8 § 5g" .Ξ "β «r-

5 té

υ

ο fa,

ν

• - - - ei

ν

I

o

•O C S 2 Λ 2

lì

-

O O

έ θ

li

G) Ci »Λ r— © r^ r en r^ ο •o »r> e^î

c Ο "3 «

I« V 3 £ ^ O ϋ-

ι a*

-Si σ> σ> Ci — ίο ^ ^ if) Oí t^

3 = ^ &· s C

11 Μ

Μ

JJ ο l-i -Û 3 3

A L L

T Y P E S

O F

S

-e

I s S -o » 3 *·

ï

fe

S

o to

£

»

S

o O -

S · *

».

g

"β

S

O

o σι m

•η t

Û.

Ö

W

^

•J

-

M


S J l.i « JJ "S 5 •°M ~JS«" f"-< « in .C wΛ

NO •ta e -,2 3 ce § i3 -C Ο. -ϊ g 1Λ O O O< s.a. S 5 3 O O««— O .t; OO «n S3¡β«« I Λδ χs ja Ξ ~ WS mC m Λ β 2 3 ΛS* e M ri

APPENDIX D

Publication of Prerevolutionary Literature TABLE 12 Nationalization of the Classics in 1918: List of Authors Whose Works Were Declared a Monopoly of the State Andreevich (Solov'ëv) Afanas'ev Aksakov Bakunin Belinskii Chekhov Chernyshevskii Dal' Dobroliubov Dostoyevsky Ertel· Fet Fonvizin Garin Garshin Gogol Goncharov Griboedov Grigorovich

Herzen Iakubovich Kol'tsov Kravchinskii Krylov Lavrov Lermontov Machtet A. Maikov Mikhailovskii Nadson Nekrasov Niki tin Ogarev Ostrovskii Pisarev Pleshcheev Polonskii Pomialovskii

Pushkin Pypin Radishchev Reshetnikov Ryleev Saltykov-Shchedrin Shelgunov Sleptsov Staniukovich Surikov Terpigorev A. Tolstoy L. Tolstoy Turgcnev Uspenskii Zasodimskii Zhemchuzhnikov Zhukovskii Zlatovratskii

SOURCE: Valerian Polianskii, "Nachalo sovetskikh izdatel'stv," Pechat' i revo· liutsiia, No. 7 (1927), p. 235.

Ρ RE REVOLUTIONÄR Y LITERATURE

187

TABLE 13 Publication

of Russian-Language Multivolume of the Classics: 1918-52 ·

Complete Collected Works »

Complete Belles-Lettres ' Author Editions Nekrasov 10 3 Tolstoy Chekhov 2 Tiutchev 2 Kol'tsov 2 1 Ryleev 1 Dostoyevsky Odoevskii 1 1 Radishchev 1 Krylov Zhukovskii 1 Polezhaev 1 1 Fet

Editions

Selected Works' Author Author Editions Editions Pushkin Pushkin 8 12 Lennontov 4 Gogol 6 "Koz'ma Prutkov" S Tolstoy 5 SaltykovSaltykovShchedrin Shchedrin 5 2 Chekhov Chekhov 4 2 NekTasov 4 Nekrasov I Mamin-Sibiriak 4 Mamin-Sibiriak 1 Radishchev 1 Korolenko 3 Krylov Lermontov 3 1 Ostrovskii Ostrovskii 1 2 Goncharov Goncharov 1 2 Turgenev Uspenskii 1 2 Leskov Korolenko 1 2 Ryleev Zhukovskii 1 1 Tolstoy Krylov I 1 Gogol Radishchev 1 1 Uspenskii 1 Dostoyevsky 1 •It is possible that some multivolume editions appeared during the Second World War, but this could not be ascertained as no complete sets of Knizhnaia letopis' of the period were available. 'Includes, in addition to the writer's complete works of fiction, some or all of his correspondence, memoirs, journalistic writings, and textual variants of manuscripts. • Occasionally includes only complete poetry, or complete prose, or complete drama (e.g., a set of Nekrasov may include only his poems, omitting drama). 'Includes any selection of the writer's works.

ι88

APPENDIX

D

TABLE 14 Forty-Nine

Prerevolutionary Russian Authors Ranked by of Copies of Their Works Printed in Russian by Government-Owned Firms: 1918-41 ¡918-23 1930-3) Author 1924-29 1934-37 Aksakov, S. T . 30 17 Annenskii, I. F. Batiushkov, Κ. N. 32 Benediktov, V. G. 32 Bestuzhev-Marlinskii, A. Boratynskii, E. A. 29 Chekhov, A. P. 1 2 2 4 Davydov, D. P. 34 Del'vig, A. A. 32 Derzhavin, G. R . 24 32 14 14 Dostoyevsky, F. M. 11 19 Krshov, P. P. 22 14 17 Fet, A. A. 32 19 18 Fonvizin, D. I. 20 16 20 Garin-Mikhailovskii, N. 23 Gnedich, Ν. I. 32 Gogol, Ν. V. 9 7 7 6 Goncharov, A. I. 11 18 15 16 Griboedov, A. S. 17 19 18 17 Grigor'ev, A. A. 32 Grigorovich, D. V. 24 Karamzin, Ν. M. 27 Kol'tsov, Α. V. 17 16 23 22 Korolenko, V. G. 5 4 8 11 Krcstovskii, V. V. 32 Krvlov, I. A. 6 14 1 9 Küchelbecker, W. K. Kushchevskii, I. A. 33 Lermontov, M. l u . 13 13 11 8 I.eskov, Ν*. S. 12 13 15 Maikov, Α. Ν. Mamin-Sibiriak, D. Ν. 16 6 10 10 Mei, L. Α. 32 Mel'nikov-Pecherskii, P. I. 21 32 N'ekrasov, Ν. Α. 15 6 9 5 Nikitin, I. S. 28 Odoevskii, A. I. 30 Odoevskii, V. F. 21 Ogarev, Ν. P. 32 Ostrovskii, Α. Ν. 12 10 12 12 Pisemskii, Α. F. 24 Polezhaev, A. I. "Prutkov, Koz'ma" 18 22 1 4 Pushkin, A. S. 4 5 Radishchev, A. N. 16 25 Ryleev, K. F. 10 8 Saltvkov-Shchedrin, M. 6 7 Sologub, F. K.

Number

1938-41 11 25 28 28 25 6

17 13 28 22 8 15 19

24 9 4 28 2 18 25 10

5 25 28 21 26 27 23 3 20 25 7 25

PREREVOLUTIONARY

LITERATURE

T A B L E 14 ( C o n t i n u e d ) Author Sukhovo-Kobylin, Α. V. Sumarokov, A. P. Tiutchev, F. I. Tolstoy, A. K. Tolstoy, Leo Trediakovskii, V. K. Turgenev, I. S. Uspenskii, G. I. Venevitinov, D. V. Viazemskii, P. A. Zhukovskii, V. A.

1918-23 20

1924-29 23

19

24

19

3

1

3

2 7

3 9

5 15

8

19)0-)}

19)1-)7

19)8-41 25

34 26 2 30 3 13 32 32 18

28 27 1 12 14 16

NOTE: T h e number indicates the rank of the author (by number of copies of his works printed) during the various periods between 1918 and 1941. For example, Chekhov ranked first in the period 1918-23, was second from 1923 to 1929 and from 1930 to 1933, dropped to fourth place during 1934-37, and to sixth place during 1938-41. A blank signifies that the writer's works were not published separately during the period indicated. Two or more writers are given the same number (rank) if their works appeared in the same number of copies. SOURCE: Knizhnaia letopis', November, 1917-September, 1941. (Since a number of issues of Knizhnaia letopis' could not be located, the table is approximate, though probably quite exact.)

TABLE 15 Fifteen Prerevolutionary Russian Writers Listed in Order of Total Number of Copies of Their Works Printed in Russian by Government-Owned Publishing Firms: 1918^tl 1 2 3 4 5

Tolstoy Chekhov Pushkin Krylov Turgenev

6 7 8 9 10

Cogol Korolenko Saltykov-Shchedrin Nekrasov Mamin-Sibiriak

11 Lermontov 12 Uspenskii 13 Goncharov 14 Ostrovskii 15 Dostoyevsky

1go

APPENDIX D

TABLE 16 Fifteen Prerevolutionary Russian Writers Listed in Order of Number of Copies of Their Works Printed in All Languages Government-Owned Publishing Firms: 1918-57

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 U 12 13 14 15

Author Pushkin, A. S. Tolstoy, L. N. Chekhov, A. P. Turgenev, I. S. Gogol, Ν. V. Krylov, I. A. Nekrasov, N. A. Lermontov, M. lu. Mamin-Sibiriak, D. Ν. Korolenko, V. G. Saltykov-Shchedrin, M. Ostrovskii, A. N. Goncharov, I. A. Leskov, N. S. Dostoyevsky, F. M.

SOURCE:

Titles 1,917 1,652 1,145 833 783 397 513 586 508 546 500 346 136 133 138

Copies (in thousands) 84,161 76272 52,435 41,796 32,873 24,655 24,469 23,463 23,143 22,813 19,095 10,725 8,502 8,443 6,911

Total by

No. of lan 82 80 72 53 51 49 42 59 50 45 39 29 18 15 13

Pechat' SSSR za sorok let 1917-1957, p. 89.

TABLE 17 Printing (.Listed

of Russian Classics by Privately Publishing Firms: 1918-23 in Order of Total Number of Copies

Author Tolstoy, Leo Turgenev, I. S. Pushkin, A. S. Korolenko, V. G. Mamin-Sibiriak, D. N. Krylov, I. A. Gogol, Ν. V. Lermontov, M. lu. Ershov, P. P. Chekhov, A. P. Saltykov-Shchedrin, M. E. Karamzin, N. M. Nekrasov, N. A. Fonvizin, D. I. Ostrovskii, A. N. Dostoyevsky, F. M. Griboedov, A. S. Zhukovskii, V. A. Tiutchev, F. I. Aksakov, S. T .

No. of titles 61 20 25 16 29 12 12 14 3 7 3 1 2 3 7 4 4 1 1 1

No. of copies (in thousands) 450« 329· 230· 215* 187· 92· 89· 83· 63 62 55 30 30 24 19 12 b 12 5 2 1

Owned Printed) Anniversaries

•

100th of birth 100th of birth 100th of birth

• Died in 1921. 'Incomplete; some data missing. 4 Includes two volumes of a multivolume edition at 5,000 copies each. SOURCE: Knizhnaia le topis', November, 1917-December, 1923. (Several copies of Knizhnaia letopis' could not be located, hence the statistics in this table are somewhat deflated. Knizhnaia letopis' is published weekly.)

PREREVOLUTIONARY

LITERATURE

191

TABLE 18 Printing

of Russian Classics by Government-Owned. Publishing Firms: 1918-23 (Listed in Order of Total Number of Copies Printed) Author Chekhov, A. P. Turgenev, I. S. Tolstoy, Leo Pushkin, A. S. Korolenko, V. G. Krylov, I. A. Uspenskii, G. I. Zhukovskii, V. A. Gogol, Ν. V. Saltykov-Shchedrin, M. E. Goncharov, I. A. Ostrovskii, A. N. Lermontov, M. lu. Dostoyevsky, F. M. Nekrasov, Ν. Α. Mamin-Sibiriak, D. Ν. Griboedov, Α. S. Kol'tsov, Α. V. Fonvizin, D. I. Tiutchev, F. I. Sukhovo-Kobylin, Α. V. •Died in 1921.

No. of titles

No. of copies (in thousands)

30 33 36 30 16 14 9 3 8 9 3 15 5 8 7 4 5 2 I 1 1

2,116· 843 675 366 354 4 282 275· 215 * 175 165 · 140« 125« 110 100» 87 32 28 15 10 5 2

A

nnwersaries

•

100th of birth 100th of birth 100th of birth

' Includes almost 2,000,000 copies of a complete edition. b Includes 3 volumes of a multivolume edition at 9,000 each. * Includes 2 volumes of a multivolume edition at 50.000 each. 4 Includes 2 volumes of a multivolume edition at 100,000 each. * Includes 2 volumes of a multivolume edition at 10,000 each. ' Includes 2 volumes of a multivolume edition at 50,000 each. * Includes 4 volumes of a multivolume edition at 10,000 each. h Includes 2 volumes of a multivolume edition at 50,000 each. SOURCE: Knizhnaia letopis', November, 1917-December, 1923. (Several copies of Knizhnaia letopis' could not be located, and in many cases no information was found on sizes of printings; hence the statistics in this table are somewhat deflated. Knizhnaia letopis' is published weekly.)

192

APPENDIX

D

TABLE 19 Printing

of Russian Classics by Government-Owned Publishing Firms: 1924-29 (Listed in Order of Total Number of Copies Printed) Author Tolstoy, Leo Chekhov, A. P. T u r g e n e v , I. S. Korolenko, V. G. Pushkin, A. S. Nekrasov, N. A. Mamin-Sibiriak, D. N. Gogol, Ν. V. Saltykov-Shchedrin, M. E. Uspenskii, G. I. Ostrovskii, A. N. Dostoyevsky, F. M. Leskov, N. S. Lermontov, M. lu. Krylov, I. A. Goncharov, I. A. Kol'tsov, Α. V. Aksakov, S. T . "Prutkov, Koz'ma" (pseud, of A. K. Tolstoy and the brothers Zhemchuzhnikov) Griboedov, A. S. Fonvizin, D. I. Mel'nikov-Pecherskii, P. I. F.rshov, P. P. Sukhovo-Kobylin, Α. V. T i u t c h e v , F. I.

So. of titles 106· 81 « 56· 41 « 43' 38 39 40 42 20 22 27 > 9* 14 7 8 5 1m 5

5 3 1 » 3 1 1

Xo. of copies (in thousands) 4,870 b 3,576 4 1,333 ' 1,248 1,234 1,078 1,078 1 949 943 878 563 419 over 305 299 200 192' 140 100 91

87 70 50 43 7 3

A

nniversaries

100th of b i r t h

75th of b i r t h 125th of b i r t h 50th of d e a t h 75th of d e a t h 100th of b i r t h 25th of d e a t h

75th of death 50th of d e a t h A. K. T o l s t o 100th of d e a t h

• For the most p a r t short works; very small editions of novels as separates. Includes several sets of multivolume editions. c Largest items: short stories. " W o m e n , " 220,000 copies; "A Dog with a W h i t e Mark," 190,000; "Kashtanka," 170,000; " V a n ' k a , " 155,000; "Chameleon," 150,000; " T h e Criminal," 105,000; "Sleepy," 105,000; " T h e Peasants," 90,000; "Sergeant Prishibeev," 75,000. ' Includes 18 volumes f r o m a m u l t i v o l u m e edition at 80,000 copies. • Largest item: " M u m u , " 175,000 copies. Also separate chapters from Sportsman's Sketches; novels. ' Includes 5 volumes from a multivolume edition at 15,000 copies. ' Largest items: short stories a n d novellas. Makar's Dream, 210,000 copies; "Tongucless," 80,000; " T h e Blind Musician," 100,000; " T h e Queer One," 80,000. h Largest item: Dubrovskii, 155,000. O t h e r large items include " T a l e of the Parson and His Man Balda," 95,000; and "History of the Village Goriukhino," 68,000. 1 Includes 4 volumes f r o m a multivolume edition at 16,500 copies. 1 No separate editions of Brothers Karamazov, The Idiot, or Possessed. • Largest item: " T h e Wig Artist," 235,000. N o novels. 1 Includes 2 volumes f r o m a multivolume edition at 10,000 copies. m A separate edition of t h e chapter " L a n d l o r d Kurolesov," f r o m The Family Chronicle. " " T h e Master from beyond the Woods: T h e Story of a Serf." SOURCE: Knizhnaia letopis', J a n u a r y , 1924-December, 1929. b

PREREVOLUTIONARY

LITERATURE

193

TABLE 20 Printing (Listed

of Russian Classics by Government-Owned Publishing Firms: 1930-33 in Order of Total Number of Copies Printed)

Author Krylov, I. A. Chekhov, A. P. Tolstoy, Leo Pushkin, A. S. Turgenev, I. S. Saltykov-Shchedrin, M. E. Gogol, Ν. V. Korolenko, V. G. Nekrasov, N. A. Mamin-Sibiriak, D. N. Lermontov, M. lu. Ostrovskii, Α. Ν. Leskov, Ν. S. Dostoyevsky, F. M. Uspenskii, G. I. Radishchev, Α. Ν. Fonvizin, D. I. Ershov, P. P. Griboedov, A. S. Tiutchev, F. I.

No. of titles 24 33· 44· 26· 26« 34 k 16 24 > 17' 9" 6 · 2» 6« 6' 5 1 1 2 2 2

No. of copies (in thousands) 1370 1354" 1,251 d 1,230 ' 1,104 1,048 1 883 720 » 575 » 505 405 125 122 84 82 75 75 70 57 23

A nniversaries

10th of death

100th of birth 50th of death

50th of death

« Largest items: "Van'ka" and "Sleepy" combined, 400,000 copies; "Kashtanka" and "The Dog with a White Mark" combined, 185,000. * Of this, 482,000 copies were volumes of multivolume editions. c Largest items: After the Ball, 180,000 copies; fairy tales, 250,000; Khadzhi Murat, 127,000; Polikushka, 100,000. There were only 20,000 copies of War and Peace, and no editions of Anna Karenina, Tales of Sevastopol, or Childhood, Adolescence, and Youth. d Includes more than 300,000 copies of volumes of multivolume editions launched in connection with the 1928 centennial. * Largest item: Dubrovskii, 145,000 copies. Other large items were Eugene Onegin, 75,000 copies; Captain's Daughter, 75,000; Queen of Spades, 50,000; and "Tale of the Fisherman and the Fish," 50,000. ' Includes 555,000 copies of volumes of multivolume editions launched in the 1920s. » Largest items: Fathers and Sons, 335,000 copies; "Mumu," 190,000; "Bezhin Meadow," 150,000; "The Bailiff," 100,000; Rudin, 85,000; "Biriuk," 50,000; "L'gov," 50,000. b Largest items: "Mavrusha," a chapter from The Bygone Days of Poshekhonie, 250,000 copies; "Really Merry Life," 150,000; "fairy tales," 60,000. 1 Includes 555,000 copies of volumes of multivolume editions launched in the 1920s. > Largest items: Makar's Dream, 100,000; At the Factory, 75,000. * Includes 20 volumes of a multivolume set at 25,000 copies. 1 Largest items: Who Can Be Happy and Free in Russia, 105,000 copies: "A Woman's Lot," 100,000; "Peasant Children," 50,000; "A Forgotten Village," 25,000. m Includes 5 volumes of a multivolume set at 15,000 copies. 0 Largest items; fairy tales, 300,000 copies; Floating Lumber, 100,000.

APPENDIX D

»94 T A B L E 20 ( C o n t i n u e d ) Author Fet, A. A. Goncharov, I. A. "Prutkov, Koz'ma" Kol'tsov, Α. V. Pisemskii, A. F. Derzhavin, G. R.

No. of titles

No. of copies (in thousands) 50· 18 15 10 5 5

Anniversaries

50th of death

"Largest items: A Hero of Our Times, 150,000 copies; "Taman'," 100,000. » The Thunderstorm, 75,000 copies; Poverty Is No Vice, 50,000. « Largest items: " T h e Beast," 50,000 copies; "The Sentry," 35,000. ' None of the major novels. ' The volume is a joint anthology of Fet and Tiutchev. SOURCE: Knizhnaia letopis', January, 1930-December, 1933.

PREREVOLUTION ARY LITERATURE

195

TABLE 21 Printing (Listed

of Russian Classics by Government-Owned, Publishing Firms: 1934-37 in Order of Total Number of Copies Printed)

Author Pushkin, A. S. Tolstoy, Leo Turgenev, I. S. Chekhov, A. P. Nekrasov, N. A. Gogol, Ν. V. Saltykov-Shchedrin, M. E. Lermontov, M. lu. Krylov, I. Α. Mamin-Sibiriak, D. Ν. Korolenko, V. G. Ostrovskii, Α. Ν. Uspenskii, G. I. Ershov, P. P. Leskov, N. S. Goncharov, I. A. Griboedov, A. S. Zhukovskii, V. A. Dostoyevsky, F. M. Fonvizin, D. I. Odoevskii, V. F.

No. of titles 207· 119» 44 4 61 · 44» 61» 56' 33* 17 24· 24· 53 11' 8 5* 11 ' 11 4 9« 7 S

No. of copies (in thousands) 18,842 5,215 · 3,194 3,172 2,599« 2,487 ' 2,446 2,096' 1,3601,175 1,021 972 636 521 420 335 284 245 240 225 208

Anniversaries 100 th of death 25 th of death 50th of death 75th of birth 125 th of birth

25 th of death 50th of death

125th of birth 150th of birth

• Partial list of titles: 16 editions of The Tales of Belkin (complete and selections), 2,434,000 copies; 13 editions of "Tale of the Fisherman and the Fish," 1,243,000; 4 editions of "The Gypsies," 1,050,000; 6 editions of "The Bronze Horseman," 1,040,000; 13 anthologies of fairy tales, 994,000; 7 editions of "Tale of the Parson and His Man Balda," 899,000; 5 editions of "Tale of Tsar Saltan," 790,000; 4 editions of Prisoner of the Caucasus, 780,000; 3 editions of "Tale of the Golden Cockerel," 670,000; 3 editions of "Tale of the Dead Princess," 620,000; 12 editions of Eugene Onegin, 544,000; 9 editions of Dubrovskii, 513,000; 9 editions of anthologies of drama (e.g., Boris Godunov, Mozart and Salteri), 481,000; 14 editions of Captain's Daughter, 443,000; 2 editions of Fountain of Bakhchiserai, 310,000; 2 editions of "Poltava," 301,000; 1 edition of "Brothers Robbers," 300,000; 1 edition of "Mistress into Maid," 300,000; 1 edition of Ruslan and Ludmila, 300,000; 5 editions of Queen of Spades, 185,000; 3 editions of Boris Godunov, 55,300; 2 editions of Egyptian Nights, 55,000; 1 edition of Stone Guest, 50,000. Also, Complete Collected Works in 6 vols., total for full set, 600,000 copies; Complete Collected Works (different set, also complete), 169,000; Complete Collected Works (different set, also complete), 180,000; Complete Collected Works (different set, vols. I-IV), 101,000; Complete Collected Works in 9 vols. (vols. T—III, V-IX), 162,400; Complete Collected Works (USSR Academy of Sciences edition, vols. I, IV, VI, VII), 160,000; Selected works in 3 vols., full set, 75,000. There was also a large number of one-volume anthologies. "Largest items: fairy tales, 2,880,000; The Prisoner of the Caucasus, 305,000; Resurrection, 230,000; Khadihi Murat, 196,000; Tales of Sevastopol, 170,000; The Cossacks, 130,000; Childhood, Adolescence and Youth, 125,000; Polikushka, 56,000; War and Peace and Anna Karenina, each 47,000; no separate editions of After the Ball. • Includes 29 volumes of the 1928 jubilee edition, at approximately 10,000 copies per volume. 4 Largest items: "Mumu," 1,101,000 copies; "Bezhin Meadow," 670,000; "Biriuk," 395,000; Sportsman's Sketches, 336,000; Fathers and Sons, 265,000; The Quail, 200,000.

APPENDIX D

ig6 T A B L E 21 ( C o n t i n u e d ) Author Kol'tsov, Α. V. Garin-Mikhailovskii, N. Grigorovich, D. V. Radishchev, A. N. Tiutchev, F. I. Karamzin, N. M. Nikitin, I. S. Boratynskii, £. A. Aksakov, S. T . Odoevskii, A. I. Trediakovskii, V. K. Mel'nikov-Pecherskii, P. Fet, A. A. Derzhavin, G. R. Krestovskii, V. V. Del'vig, A. A. Viazemskii, P. A. Ogarev, N. P. Benediktov, V. G. Grigor'ev, A. A. Mei, L. A. Venevitinov, D. V. Gnedich, N. I. Batiushkov, K. N. Kushchevskii, I. A. Davydov, D. V. Sumarokov, A. P.

No. of titles 4 1 1 5 3 1 2 2 1 2 1 1 1 1 11 1 I 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1

No. of copies (in thousat 180 120 100 68 33 21 20 16 15 15 14 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 8 3 3

Anniversaries 125th of birth

75th of death

• Largest items: "Van'ka," 550,000 copies; " T h e Boys," 350,000; "The Dog with a White Mark," 300,000; "Kashtanka," 320,000; " T h e Runaway Boy," 250,000. •Largest items: Who Can Be Happy and Free in Russia, 481,000 copies; "Grandpa Mazai and the Hares," 450,000; "General Toptygin," 320,000. * Includes 527,000 copies of multivolume editions. * Largest items: Dead Souls, 467,000 copies; "How the Two Ivans Quarreled," 411,000; Evenings on a Farm Near Dikanka, 230,000; Inspector General, 166,000. 1 Includes 215,000 copies of multivolume editions. 1 Largest items: "fairy tales," 650,000 copies; Bygone Days of Poshekhonie, 260,000. * Largest items: "Ashik Kerib," 400,000 copies; A Hero of Our Time, 282,000; "Bela," 200,000. 1 Includes 126,000 copies of multivolume editions. " Includes 15,000 copies of multivolume editions. " Largest items: fairy tales, 456,000 copies; Winter on Studënaia River, 400,000. • Largest items: Makaks Dream, 200,000 copies; " T h e Lost Boy," 100,000; "Homeless Fëdor," 100,000. » Largest items: "The Check Book," 110,000 copies; "Business and Connections," 100,000; "The Sentry Box," 100,000; Live Numbers: One-Quarter of a Horse, Receipt, 100,000. « Largest items: "The Wig Artist," 200,000 copies; "The Sentry," 200,000. ' Largest items: Oblomov, 210,000 copies; first printing as separate of Precipice, 100,000. • Largest items: House of the Dead, 100,000 copies; Crime and Punishment, 65,000; and, a very rare event in Soviet publishing, a separate edition of Brothers Karamazov, a mere 15,000 copie«. ' The Dens of St. Petersburg. SOURCE: Knixhnaia le topisJanuary, 1934-December, 1937.

P R E R E V O L U T I O N AR Y

LITERATURE

»97

TABLE 22 Printing

of Russian Classics by Government-Owned Publishing Firms: 1938-41 {Listed, in Order of Total Number of Copies Printed) Author Tolstoy, Leo Lermontov, M. l u . Pushkin, A. S. Krylov, I. A. Nekrasov, N. A. Chekhov, A. P. Saltykov-Shchedrin, M. E. Gogol, Ν. V. Korolenko, V. G. Mamin-Sibiriak, D. N. Aksakov, S. T . Turgenev, I. S. Ershov, P. P. Uspenskii, G. I. Goncharov, I. A. Zhukovskii, V. A. Dostoyevsky, F. M. Leskov, N. S. Griboedov, A. S.

No. of titles 68· 61 • 66 4 27« 38« 44 1 48 1 37» 22 ι 14 4 *

20· 4 10» 7« 6' 4« 6* 5

No. of copies (in thousands) 4,832 3,753 · 3,250· 3,035 2,156' 2,037 1,410 990 896 823 639 631 312 285 140 130· 120 110 103

Anniversaries 100th of death

50th of death

150 th of b i i t h

50th of death

•Largest items: fairy Ules, 2,700,000 copies; Polikushka, 193,000; Khadzhi Mur at, 180,000; Resurrection, 120,000; The Cossacks, 77,000; Anna Karenina, 48,000; Tales of Sevastopol, 40,000; War and Peace, 30,000; selected chapters from War and Peace, 300,000. * Largest items: "Song of Tsar Ivan Vasil'evich," 590,000 copies; A Hero of Our Time, 435,000; " T h e Demon," 310,000; "Mtsyri," 277,000. * Includes 340,000 copies of volumes from multivolume editions. * Largest items: " T a l e of the Fisherman and the Fish," 880,000 copies; " T a l e of the Golden Cockerel," 190,000; first separate edition of "Tale of Oleg the Wise," 100,000; "Poltava," 150,000. * Includes 384,000 copies of volumes from multivolume editions. ' Largest items: " T h e Dragonfly and the Ant," and " T h e Elephant and the Doggy," together 2,000,000 copies. * Largest items: "Frost the Red Nose," 260,000 copies; "Decembrist Women," 200,000. h Includes 440,000 copies of volumes from multivolume editions. ' Largest items: "Kashtanka," 322,000 copies; "A Dog with a White Mark," 200,000; an anthology comprising "Van'ka," "A Dog with a White Mark," " T h e Boys," " T h e Runaway Boy," and "A Horsy Name," 250,000; " T h e Peasants," 100,000; "Sergeant Prishibeev," 100,000. » Largest items: "fairy tales," 458,000 copies; The Bygone Days of Poshekhonie, 165,000; A History of a Certain Town, 97,000; The Golovlev Family, 80,000. * Largest items: " T h e Overcoat," 210,000 copies; Taras Bul'ba, 182,000. 1 Largest items: " T h e Boy W h o Was Bought," 261,000 copies; " T h e Blind Musician," 135,000. " Largest items: fairy tales, 369,000 copies; Winter on Studënaia River, 31,000; Privalov's Millions, 10,000.

APPENDIX

D

T A B L E 22 ( C o n t i n u e d ) Author Radishchev, A. N. Ostrovskii, A. N. Fonvirin, D. I. "Prutkov, Koz'ma" Kol'tsov, Α. V. Bestuzhev-Marlinskii, A. Maikov, A. N. Annenskii, I. F. Ryleev, K. F. Sologub, F. K. Niki tin, I. S. Sukhovo-Kobylin, Α. V. Pisemskii, A. F. Tolstoy, A. K. Küchelbecker, W. K. Ogarev, N. P. Batiushkov, K. N. Fet, A. A. Tiutchev, F. I. Benediktov, V. G.

No. of titles 5T 2 2 2 2 1 1 1 1 1» 1 1 1 1» 1 1 1 1 1 1

No. of copiti (in thousa 85 65 41 24 15 over 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 8 8 5 5 5 5 5 5

Anniversaries

100th of death 125th of death

125th of death

• Largest items: "Red Flower," 547,000 copies; Childhood of Bagrov's Grandson, 67,000. •Largest items: Sportsman's Sketches, 132,000 copies; "The Bailiff," 120,000; "Khor· and Kalinych," 100,000. ' Largest items: From Hill to Hill: Pete's Career, 100,000 copies; Friday, 40,000; The Chech Book, 30,000; The Ruin, 20,000; Mores of Rasteriaeva Street, 20,000. ' Includes the first separate edition of Frigate "Pallas." ' Includes 100,000 copies of "The Chalice" and "Roland the Arms Bearer." 'Includes 11,000 copies of volumes from multivolume editions. « Includes 50,000 copies of "The Little Hero," 30,000 of Crime and Punishment, and 10,000 of Insulted and Injured. "Includes 50,000 copies of "The Wig Artist," 20,000 of "The Left-Handed Smith," and 10,000 of "The Sentry." T An anthology of poetry, 50,000 copies; Journey from St. Petersburg to Moscow, only 10,000. w Includes 20,000 copies of volumes from multivolume editions. * A volume of nonsense poetry. 7 First separate edition of Trilogy. SOURCE: Knizhnaia letopis', January, 1938-September, 1941. (No complete sets of the later issues of Knizhnaia letopis' are available. Soviet-German war broke out on June 22, 1941.)

PREREVOLUTIONARY LITERATURE

199

TABLE 23 Summary: Printing of Russian-Language Editions of Classics by Government-Owned and, Privately Owned 1918-41 Privately Owned Finns Years 1918-23 1924-29 1930-33 1934-37 1938-41

Titles 285 33

Copies (in thousands) 1,774 529

Russian Firms,

Government-Owned Firms Titles 271 618 306 860 528

Copies (in thousands) 6,143 22,799 11,663 48,327 24.813

SOURCE: Knizhnaia letopis', November, 1917-September, 1941. (Figures in this table may be somewhat deflated, since several issues of Knizhnaia letopis' could not be located.)

APPENDIX E

The Tolstoy Jubilee Edition: A Profile As indicated on every volume of the set, the printing of the ninety-volume edition of the complete works of Leo Tolstoy was originally authorized by the resolution of the Council of People's Commissars of J u n e 24, 1925. For some reason, the Council f o u n d it necessary to issue two other authorizations to continue the edition. one on August 8, 1934, and the other on August 27, 1939. T h e first volumes began to appear on the eve of the centennial of Tolstoy's birth in 1927, and the concluding volumes came out before the 1960 observances of the fiftieth anniversary of the novelist's death. T h e entire set is bound in navy blue cloth with gold lettering. T h e quality of the paper is uneven, though generally good. Volumes that appeared in the 1920s and 1930s had two title pages, one in Russian and one in French. On these title pages were listed by name the numerous members of the editorial commission, including those who had died before the appearance of the first volume— the names of these members were printed with black borders around them, the usual Soviet practice in cases of posthumous publication. Members of the original editorial commission included Alexandra Tolstoy, the novelist's youngest daughter, who subsequently defected and now lives in the United States. Volumes published since the outbreak of the Second World W a r have only one title page—no doubt, a reflection of growing nationalism—and no longer list the members of the editorial board— a prudent step possibly dictated by the uncertainties of the period of the great purges in the late 1930s. Instead, there is the laconic inscription "Edition supervised by the State Editorial Commission." Each volume bears the rather unusual stamp "Reproduction libre p o u r tous les pays," at first in Russian and French, later only in Russian. T h i s generous gesture is, in fact, quite superfluous: since the USSR is not a signatory of international copyright conventions, there are no legal barriers to prevent foreign publishers from "pirating" any Soviet book, including the Tolstoy edition. Soviet publishing houses frequently engage in such practices, with-

THE TOLSTOY JUBILEE EDITION

201

out paying any royalties or even informing foreign authors and publishers that their books have been printed and sold in the USSR. The actual number of physical volumes is fewer than ninety, since in many cases two volumes have been bound together, as, for example, volumes 15 and 16, 39 and 40, 48 and 49, 50 and 51, 68 and 69, 70 and 71, 73 and 74, 75 and 76, 77 and 78, 79 and 80, 81 and 82, 88 and 89. The length of the volumes is far from uniform. Thus volume 31 contains 323 pages, volume 56 has 658 pages, and volume 13 has 880. The edition is divided into three "series." The first (volumes 1 to 45) comprises Tolstoy's fiction and nonfiction; the second (volumes 46 to 57) consists of his diaries; and the remaining volumes contain the novelist's correspondence. The volumes did not appear in numerical order; volume 43 was published in 1929, volume 27 in 1933, volume 35 in 1950, and volume 28 in 1957. The size of the printings of individual volumes varied; some were printed in 5,000 copies each, others in 10,000. Certain volumes are supplied with lengthy scholarly introductory articles and postscripts, while others contain the barest minimum of explanatory material. In this the editors were not very consistent. A long "political" preface appears in volume 28 which contains the ideologically undesirable The Kingdom of God Is within You; but there are also long prefaces to volumes 34 and 37 which contain Tolstoy's late fiction and nonfiction. A rather "militant" introduction appears in volume 34, which was brought out in 1952, one year before Stalin's death. The volume contains Khadzhi Murat, and the editors took this opportunity to stress that Russia's annexation of the Caucasus was a "progressive" act, a reflection of the position taken at that time by Soviet historiography which made every attempt to contrast this "progressive" old Russian imperialism with the evil kind of imperialism practiced by, say, England in India. The rather strange puritanism of the Soviet editors is manifested in the omission of all the "dirty" words in the writings of Tolstoy, an annoying and inadmissible procedure in a scholarly edition. T o appease the readers, the editors indicate in double brackets how many "dirty" words were omitted, for example, [[3]]. Works that were published during Tolstoy's lifetime have been printed with the new orthography. In some cases the old spelling is retained, particularly when this might reflect the Russian pronunciation of Tolstoy and his contemporaries. The abundant material in foreign languages that appears in most of the volumes, particularly those containing Tolstoy's correspond-

202

APPENDIX E

enee, is given both in the original and in Russian translation. Many volumes are supplied with a "who's who" of Tolstoy's correspondents and men mentioned in his writings. Textual variants are printed either alongside each other or in separate volumes. T h e edition also includes photographs of Tolstoy's manuscripts and portraits of the novelist.

APPENDIX F

The Russian Classics in Soviet Criticism: A Soviet Lampoon T h e following article by R. Uralov, entitled "Vvedenie ν iubileevedenie" (An Introduction to Jubilee-ology), appeared in the scholarly Soviet journal Voprosy literatury (Problems of Literature) (July, 1960, pp. 77-80). We reproduce here the complete text, except for a few closing remarks that were in a "serious" vein. It is hoped that this article will alleviate all lingering doubts regarding the complaints made by the present writer in the Chapter V, "Official Attitudes toward the Russian Classics." More than half of the output of literary scholarship owes its existence to jubilees. A process of branching out is taking place in contemporary literary science, the same process that is also to be observed in the other domains of human knowledge. Though some continue to question seriously the independent value of, say, the science of language of imaginative literature, nobody doubts the propriety of having an autonomous jubilee-ology. Hence we would not be amiss in our attempts to establish certain objective peculiarities of this science, as well as to examine its subject and methods. We shall begin with the subject. At one of the recent meetings at the Writers' House it was said that "one does not write about deceased writers except on jubilee days." As for the jubilee dayswell, that is a different matter. Not only the Literary Gazette [Literaturnaia gazeta] and Literature and. Lije [Literatura i zhizn'], which, so to speak, have to do it in line of duty, but all the other publications deem it their duty and pleasant obligation to say a few warm words about the venerable hero of the day—each publication according to its peculiarities. Thus to such magazines and almanacs as Hunting and. Dog Breeding [Okhota i sobakovodstvo], or Hunting Fields [Okhotnich'i prostory], Turgenev, the author of Sportsman's Sketches, is an inexhaustible source of inspiration. Sergei Aksakov is a gold mine for the monthly of amateur fishermen. Our colleagues from Horse Breeding [Konevodstvo] are, quite under-

804

APPENDIX F

standably, excited first and foremost about the fate of Tolstoy's Yardstick [Kholstomer], and less so about Katia Maslova or Anna Karenina. But we digress. Articles about literary classics published in specialized professional newspapers and magazines are a topic in themselves. Let us return to the problem of jubilee-ology. In the final analysis it does not matter whom one is to write about. N o r is it really important how one is to write. T h e vital thing is when to write. Only fanatics—literary scholars who have lost all touch with life—study the works of classical writers whose jubilees are already over. T h u s we approach the problem of methods of jubilee-ology as a science. Even today in small towns one finds prospering photographers. Yes, their equipment is antediluvian. But their methods are firmly established. T h e y have at their disposal a canvas. O n the background of a medieval castle, at the foot of a mysterious mountain, on a swift Arabian steed gallops a Bedouin, the son of the Arabian desert. Instead of a face there is a hole. W i t h the aid of this seemingly unsophisticated contraption photographers daily beget Bedouins from the population of the towns and adjacent localities. T h e r e may be variations in the artistic make-up of the canvas. Sometimes, in lieu of the Bedouin, they portray cowboys or Asian horsemen, tiger tamers or sword eaters. But the technique remains unchanged in all cases, for the most important thing is the hole wherein the appropriate head is placed. Jubilee-ology has profited from this valuable experience. It has assimilated it and simultaneously considerably enriched the ancient art of clichés. A cliché is placed on a classical writer. Lacunae are filled with quotations. Images are obscured with rosy ink. Pieces are glued together. T h e superfluous is cut off. T h e text of a jubilee article follows ritual formulas. Only insignificant departures from the standard are tolerated. T h e author's signature makes it possible to distinguish one jubilee article from another. T h e basic premises enumerated above enable jubilee-ology—unlike the other branches of the humanities—to make fuller use of the latest achievements of industry and to come close to complete and unconditioned automation of all creative processes. Certain jubilee-ologists have long ago learned to operate several machines simultaneously, and this should be encouraged in all possible manners, because at the height of the jubilee season the demand for their output skyrockets. A t that time articles are erected like prefabricated housing, from ready-made large parts. Very widely used is the typical outline of a newspaper article of

THE CLASSICS IN SOVIET CRITICISM

205

300 to 350 lines, dedicated to any representative of the classical Russian literature of the nineteenth century. Paragraph one: a quotation from Belinsky (or Chernyshevsky, or Dobroliubov, or, worse come worse, Pisarev). Paragraph two: Something about narodnost' of literature, about critical realism and revolutionary romanticism. Paragraphs three, four, and five: a few well-chosen juicy sentences about serfdom, about the people's libertarian movements, and about the terror of tsarist censorship. Paragraphs six, seven, and eight: brief excerpts from the birth certificate of the individual subjected to the jubilee. An enumeration of his works. A few quotations from the memoirs of his nurse, grandmother, and classmates. Paragraphs nine and ten: another few quotations. Paragraph eleven: (being the backbone and the culmination of the article) one authoritative quotation. Paragraphs twelve and thirteen: two, or better still, three quotations which constitute the testimony of foreign men of letters with regard to the old writer's international popularity and the universal significance of the old writer's work. Paragraph fourteen: the final paragraph contains the thoughts of the author of the article on the topic " T h e Writer Whose Jubilee Is Being Observed and O u r Times." As evidence of the writer's immortality one quotes publishing statistics on the numbers of editions of the writer's works, the sizes of their printings, and translations. Note: the custom nowadavs is to print quotations without quotation marks [that is, plagiarize]. T h e emphasis on standardization as the basic principle of jubilee-ology does not by any means deprive the most illustrious representatives of this science of creative freedom. On the contrary, all encouragement is given to creative initiative and invention. T h e innova tionist-minded jubilee-ologists, to cite but one instance, daringly widen the assortment of terms usually placed in the titles of the articles. T h i s is done with a degree of finesse. T h e standard title—"The Great Russian Writer" (see, for example, the articles on Gogol in Soviet Moldavia [Sovetskaia Moldaviia] and The Baku Worker [Bakinskii rabochii]; on Leo Tolstoy in The Truth of the East [Pravda vostoka]; 011 Gorky in Agriculture [Sel'skoe khoziaistvo] and Soviet Belorussia [Sovetskaia Belorussiia]—this standard title is presently being replaced by the more meaningful "An Artist of Genius" (thus are entitled the articles on Gogol in The Moscow

2o6

APPENDIX.

F

Young Communist [Moskovskii komsomolets], on Tolstoy in The Turkmen Spark [Turkmenskaia iskra], and so forth). There is a great future for the formula "A Writer and a Humanist" (articles on Korolenko in Literature and Life [Literatura i zhizn']; on Chekhov in Water Shipping [Vodnyi transport]; on Korky in Moscow Pravda [Moskovskaia pravda]). However, in the present historical epoch among the most favored formulations are those that affirm the contemporary, actual, and vitally important significance of the classical heritage. Thus—"Our Pushkin" (Soviet Lithuania [Sovetskaia Litva]); "Our Gogol" (Labor [Trud], Water Shipping [Vodnyi transport]); "Our Chekhov" (Forestry and Lumber [Lesnaia promyshlennost']); "Gogol Remains with Us" (The Factory Whistle [Gudok]); "Chekhov Is with Us Even Today" (The Factory Whistle [Gudok]); "Gorky Is with Us" (Soviet Russia [Sovetskaia Rossiia]; "Mayakovsky Is with Us" (Kommunist of Erevan, Soviet Belorussia [Sovetskaia Belorussiia]). But the crux of the matter is not in the titles; it is the contents of the articles. It would be unjust to accuse the jubilee-ologists of painting all the classics in the same image. Well, would it be nice and proper to speak of contradictions and inconsistencies, of isolated creative or—worse still—ideological failures of the writer on such a memorable [anniversary] date? In odes one speaks only of pleasant things. Hence, Zhukovskii, of course, was a realist and almost a Voltairean. Gogol was a fiery atheist and a convinced jacobm. Dostoyevsky was a hereditary revolutionary. Leskov was the bard of labor and a friend of the workers. . . . People whose myopia causes them to underestimate this new science [of jubilee-ology], the conservatives in literary scholarship —well, these people usually say that you cannot paint all of the old writers in rosy textbook colors. But experience has shown that jubilee-ologists can do anything. . . . [The article ends with a quotation from the Soviet "poet laureate" Mayakovsky who had prophetically warned of the dangers of jubilee celebrations.]

Bibliography

Andronikov, Irakiii. Lermontov. Moscow: Sovetskii Pisatel', 1951. Zhizri Lermontova (Lermontov's Life). Moscow and Leningrad: Izdatel'stvo Detskoi Literatury, 1939. Batiushkov, F. D. V. G. Korolenko kak chelovek i pisatel' (V. G. Korolenko: The Man and the Writer). Moscow: Zadruga, 1922. Chukovskii, Kornei. Poet i palach: Nehrasov i Murav'ëv (The Poet and the Hangman: Nekrasov and Murav'ëv). Nekrasovskaia biblioteka (The Nekrasov Library). Petersburg: Izdatel'stvo Epokha, 1922. Dolgov, N. A. N. Ostrovskii, 1823-1923. Moscow and Petrograd: Gosizdat, 1923. Egolin, A. "Nekrasov i nasha sovremennost' " (Nekrasov and Our Times), Novyi mir (The New World), November, 1938, pp. 218-31. Osvoboditel'nye i patrioticheskie idei russkoi literatury XIX veka (Libertarian and Patriotic Ideas of Nineteenth-Century Russian Literature). Moscow: Sovetskii Pisatel', 1946. Eikhenbaum, B. M. M. lu. Lermontov. Moscow and Leningrad: Izdatel'stvo Detskoi Literatury, 1936. El'sberg, la. Mirovozzrenie i tvorchestvo Shchedrina (Shchedrin's Works and World Outlook). Moscow and Leningrad: Izdatel'stvo Akademii Nauk SSSR, 1936. Saltykov-Shchedrin. Moscow: Zhurnal'no-gazetnoe Ob"edinenie, 1934. Salty kov-Shchedrin: Zhizn' i tvorchestvo (Saltykov-Shchedrin: Life and Works). Moscow: Goslitizdat, 1953. Evgen'ev-Maksimov, V. N. A. Nekrasov i ego sovremenniki: Ocherki (N. A. Nekrasov and His Contemporaries: Essays). Moscow: Izdatel'stvo Federatsiia, 1930. Nekrasov. Leningrad: Molodaia Gvardiia, 1946. Nekrasov: Κ stoletiiu so dnia rozhdeniia (Nekrasov: On the One Hundredth Anniversary of His Birth). Petersburg: Gosizdat, 1921.

2O8

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Velikii poet revoliutsionnoi demokratii N. A. Nekrasov (N. A. Nekrasov, the Great Poet of Revolutionary Democracy). Moscow: Izdatel'stvo Znanie, 1952. Zhizn' i deiatel'nost' N. A. Nekrasova (Life and Work of N. A. Nekrasov). Vol. I. Moscow: Goslitizdat, 1947. Evnin, F. N. S. Leskov. I. Klabunovskii, ed. Moscow: Gosudarstvennyi Literaturnyi Muzei, 1945. Gershenzon, M. Griboedovskaia Moskva (The Moscow of Griboedov). 3d ed. Moscow: Izdanie M. i S. Sabashnikovykh, 1928. Gogol', N. V. Mirgorod. Leningrad: Goslitizdat, 1937. Povesti (Tales). Shkol'naia biblioteka dlia nerusskikh shkol (School Library for Non-Russian Schools). Moscow and Leningrad: Detizdat Ministerstva Prosveshcheniia RSFSR, 1952. Gorokhoff, Boris I. Publishing in the USSR. Slavic and East European Series, Vol. XIX. Bloomington, Ind.: Russian and East European Institute, Indiana University, 1959. Grossman, Leonid. N. S. Leskov: Zhizn'—tvorchestvo—poetika (N. S. Leskov: His Life, Works, and Style). Moscow: Goslitizdat, 1945. Tri sovremennika: Tiutchev—Dostoevskii—Apollon Grigor'ev (Three Contemporaries: Tiutchev, Dostoyevsky, Apollon Grigor'ev). Moscow: T-vo Knigoizdatel'stvo Pisatelei ν Moskve, 1922. Gudzii, Ν. K. Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoi. Molodaia Gvardiia, 1944. Ivanova, T. Moskva ν zhizni i tvorchestve M. lu. Lermontova, 1827-1832 (Moscow in Lermontov's Life and Works, 1827-1832). Moscow: Moskovskii Rabochii, 1950. Kamenev, L. B. Surovye napevy: Pamiati N. A. Nekrasova (Somber Chants: In memoriam N. A. Nekrasov). Moscow: Kooperativnoe Izdatel'stvo Zhizn' i Znanie, 1922. Kireev, D. A. S. Griboedov: Zhizn' i literaturnaia deiatel'nost' (A. S. Griboedov: His Life and Literary Activities). Moscow and Leningrad: Gosizdat, 1929. Kirpotin, V. Politicheskie motivy ν tvorchestve Lermontova (Political Themes in Lermontov's Works). Moscow: Goslitizdat, 1939. Knizhnaia letopis' (Book Annals). Moscow: Gosudarstvennaia Tsentral'naia Knizhnaia Palata SSSR, 1917—. Published weekly. Korolenko, V. G. Izbrannye proizvedeniia (Selected Works). With an introduction by A. Kotov. Text ed. and annotated by Ν. V. and S. V. Korolenko. Moscow: Goslitizdat, 1947. Kozlovskii, L. V. G. Korolenko: Opyt literaturnoi kharakteristiki (V. G. Korolenko: An Attempt at a Literary Evaluation). Moscow: 1922. Kratkii filosofskii slovar' (Concise Philosophical Dictionary). M. Rozental' and P. Iudin, eds. 3d corrected ed. Moscow: Gospolitizdat, 1952.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

209

Kufaev, M. Ν. Istorila russkoi knigi ν XIX veke (Russian Books in the Nineteenth Century: A History). Leningrad: Kul'tur no-Pros vetitel'noe Izdatel'stvo Nachatki Znanii, 1927. Kul'turnoe stroitel'stvo SSSR: Statisticheskii sbornik (Cultural Construction of the USSR: A Compilation of Statistics). Moscow: Gosudarstvennoe Statisticheskoe Izdatel'stvo, 1956. Kuprin, A. I. Povesti i rasskazy (Novellas and Short Stories). Moscow: Goslitizdat, 1946. Lermontov, M. lu. Polnoe sobrante sochinenii (Complete Works). Moscow and Leningrad: Gosizdat, 1926. Leskov, N. S. Izbrannye sochineniia (Selected Works). With an introduction by B. M. Drugov. Text ed. and annotated by A. N. Leskov. Moscow: Goslitizdat, 1946. Povesti i rasskazy (Novellas and Short Stories). Text ed., and with introduction and annotations, by B. M. Drugov. Moscow: Goslitizdat, 1943. Lunacharskii, Α., and A. Khalatov. Voprosy kul'turnogo stroitel'stva RSFSR: Doklady na XVI Vserossiiskom s"ezde sovetov (15 maia 1929 g. (Problems of Cultural Construction of the Russian Federated Soviet Socialist Republic: Reports at the Sixteenth AllRussian Congress of Soviets, May 15, 1929). Moscow and Leningrad: Gosizdat, 1929. Mamin-Sibiriak, D. N. Izbrannye sochineniia (Selected Works). With an introduction by E. A. Bogoliubov. Moscow and Leningrad: Goslitizdat, 1949. Manuilov, V. A. Lermontov: Zhizri i tvorchestvo (Lermontov: His Life and Works). Leningrad: Gosudarstvennoe Uchebno-Pedagogicheskoe Izdatel'stvo Narkomprosa RSFSR, Leningradskoe Otdelenie, 1939. M. E. Saltykov-Shchedrin: Κ piatidesiatiletiiu so dnia smerti: (Stat'i i materialy) (M. E. Saltykov-Shchedrin: On the Fiftieth Anniversary of His Death [Essays and Source Materials]). Leningrad: Sovetskii Pisatel', 1939. M. lu. Lermontov ν portretakh (M. lu. Lermontov in Portraits). Ed. with an introduction by I. S. Zil'bershtein. Moscow: Izdanie Gosudarstvennogo Literaturnogo Muzeia, 1941. M. lu. Lermontov ν russkoi kritike: Sbornik statei (M. lu. Lermontov in Russian Literary Criticism: A Compilation of Essays). With an introduction and commentary by D. Zonov. Moscow: Goslitizdat, 1951. M. lu. Lermontov: Zhizn' i tvorchestvo, 1814-1841 (M. lu. Lermontov: His Life and Work, 1814-1841). Akademiia Nauk SSSR, Institut Mirovoi Literatury imeni A. M. Gor'kogo. Moscow and Leningrad: Iskusstvo, 1941.

210

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Ν. A. Nekrasov, 1878-1938: Sbornik statei i materialov (Ν. A. Nekrasov, 1878-1938: A Compilation of Essays and Source Materials). V. E. Evgen'ev-Maksimov, ed. Leningrad: Goslitizdat, 1938. N. A. Nekrasov: Ego zhizn' i literaturnaia deiatel'nost' (N. A. Nekrasov: His Life and Literary Activity). With a critical-biographical essay by L. Mel'shin (P. F. Iakubovich). Kazan': Gosizdat Avtonomnoi Tatarskoi SSR, 1922. N. A. Nekrasov ν portretakh i illustratsiiakh: Posobie dlia uchitelia srednei shkoly (N. A. Nekrasov in Portraits and Drawings: An Aid for High School Teachers). Compiled by E. F. Gollerbakh and V. E. Evgen'ev-Maksimov). Moscow and Leningrad: Uchpedgiz, 1938. Nazarov, A. I. Ocherki istorii sovetskogo knigoizdatel'stva (A Survey of the History of Soviet Book Publishing). Moscow: Iskusstvo, 1952. Nekrasov, N. A. Dramaticheskie proizvedeniia (Plays). Texts ed., with introduction and commentary, by K. Chukovskii. Moscow and Leningrad: Iskusstvo, 1947. Polnoe sobrante stikhotvorenii N. A. Nekrasova (Complete Poetry of N. A. Nekrasov). Ed. and annotated by Kornei Chukovskii, with a critical essay by I. Kubikov. Moscow and Leningrad: Goslitizdat, 1928. Nekrasovskii sbornik (A Nekrasov Anthology). A. M. Egolin, N. F. Bel'chikov, Β. I. Bursov, and V. E. Evgen'ev-Maksimov, eds. Institut Russkoi Literatury (Pushkinskii Dom). Moscow and Leningrad: Izdatel'stvo Akademii Nauk SSSR, 1951. "O knige A. Leskova" (About A. Leskov's Book), Literaturnyi sovremennik (The Literary Contemporary), No. 3, 1937, pp. 153-55. O partiinoi i sovetskoi pechati: Sbornik dokumentov (On Party and Soviet Press: A Compilation of Documents). Moscow: Izdatel'stvo Pravda, 1954. Orlov, V. Griboedov: Kratkii ocherk zhizni i tvorchestva (Griboedov: A Brief Account of His Life and Work). Moscow: Iskusstvo, 1952. Pamiati VI. G. Korolenko (V. G. Korolenko: In Memoriam). V. A. Miakotin, ed. Moscow: Zadruga, 1922. Pechat' SSSR za sorok let 1917-1957 (Forty Years of Soviet Press and Publishing, 1917-1957). Moscow: Ministerstvo Kul'tury SSSR, Glavizdat, 1957. Petrov, S. "Ν. V. Gogol," Soviet Literature, No. 3, 1952, pp. 168-74. Pis'ma V. G. Korolenko k A. G. Gornfel'du (Letters from V. G. Korolenko to A. G. Gornfel'd). With an introduction by A. G. Gornfel'd. Leningrad: Knigoizdatel'stvo Seiatel' E. V. Vysotskogo, 1924.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

211

Pokrovskii, G. A. Poet Nekrasov i religiia (The Poet Nekrasov and Religion). Moscow: Ateist, 1929. Polianskii, Valerian (P. I. Lebedev). A. N. Ostrovskii: Κ stoletiiu so dnia rozhdeniia (A. N. Ostrovskii: On the One Hundredth Anniversary of His Birth). Moscow and Petrograd: Gosizdat, 1923. "Nachalo sovetskikh izdatel'stv" (The Beginnings of Soviet Publishing), Pechat' i revoliutsiia (Press and Revolution), No. 7, 1927, pp. 233-40. Prutskov, Ν. I. Κ voprosu o sotsial'no-istoricheskikh istochnikakh mirovogo znacheniia russkoi klassicheskoi literatury XIX veka (On the Question of the Socio-Historical Sources of the World Significance of Nineteenth-Century Classical Russian Literature). Groznyï: Groznenskoe Oblastnoe Izdatel'stvo, 1946. Seduro, Vladimir. Dostoyevski in Russian Literary Criticism: 18461956. New York: Columbia University Press, 1957. Semanova, M. Chekhov ν shkole: Posobie dlia uchitelia (Chekhov in School: An Aid to Teachers). Leningrad: Gosudarstvennoe Uchebno-Pedagogicheskoe Izdatel'stvo Ministerstva Prosvescheniia RSFSR, Leningradskoe Otdelenie, 1949. Sergeev, Ivan. Ivan Andreevich Krylov. Molodaia Gvardiia, 1945. Sovetskaia kniga: Kritiko-bibliograficheskii zhurnal (Soviet Books: A Journal Devoted to Criticism and Bibliography). 1946-. Published monthly. SSSR υ tsifrakh (The USSR in Figures). Moscow: Gosudarstvennoe Statisticheskoe Izdatel'stvo, 1958. Strany sotsializma i kapitalizma ν tsifrakh: Statisticheskie materialy dlia propagandistov (Figures on Socialist and Capitalist Countries: Statistical Materials for Propagandists). Moscow: Gospolitizdat, 1957. Voitolovskii, L. Istorila russkoi literatury XIX i XX vekov (A History of Russian Literature of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries). Part I: Pushkin-Dostoevskii (From Pushkin to Dostoyevsky). Moscow and Leningrad: Gosizdat, 1926. Voronskii, A. Iskusstvo i zhizn': Sbornik statei (Art and Life: A Collection of Essays). Moscow and Petersburg: Krug, 1924. Zaslavsky, D. "M. E. Saltykov-Shchedrin," Soviet Literature, No. 8, 1951, pp. 166-70.

Index

Abroad (Saltykov-Shchedrin), 40 Academia, publishing house, 46, 56 Academy of Sciences, USSR, 46-48, 5In, 55-56 Administration of Art Affairs of the Russian Soviet Federated Socialist Republic (RSFSR) Council of People's Commissars, 134 Aesop, 78n Afanas'ev, Alexander, nationalization (table), 186 After the Ball (Tolstoy). 34, 62, 80 Agriculture publications (tables), 179, 181 Aksakov, Sergei T.: 105n; and children's literature, 70-71; critics on, 17, 105; nationalization (table), 186: publication (tables), 188, 190, 192, 196-97; "rehabilitation," 145 Alcoholism, 103 Aldanov, Mark, 70« All Quiet on the Western Front (Remarque), 79 All-Union Congress of Soviets, Sixteenth (1929), publishing policy, 9; report on publishing, 18-19 All-Union Society of Militant Atheists, 79 "Amnesties," pre-World War II, 119 Andersen, Hans, 78n Andreevich, Evgenii (Solov'ev), nationalization (table), 186 Andronikov, Iraklii, on Lermontov, 139, 142 Anna Karenina (Tolstoy), 28, 53, 157; film adaptation, 71-72; separate reissue, 29-30 Annenskii, I. F., edition, 57n; publication (table), 188, 198

Anniversaries, editions in celebration of: 16-17, 39, 44-46; Tolstoy jubilee edition, 200-2 Anthologies, 29; antireligious, 78 Anticlericalism, 104-5 Anticomparativism, reasons for, 140 Anti-Religious Library, see Military Publishing House Anti-Religious Library of Fiction (Antireligioznaia khudozhestvenraia biblioteka, 79 A n t i - r e l i g i o z n a i a khudozhestvenraia biblioteka, see Anti-Religious Library of Fiction Anton the Hapless (Grigorovich), 63 Archives, national, 21 η Art: political message, 10-12; publications (table), 179; treasures, 14 Art (Iskusstvo), publishing house, 56, 58 Ashik Kerib (Lermontov), 75 Association of Proletarian Writers, 56 At Daggers Drawn (Leskov), 125 Atenei (Atheneum), publishing house, 56n Atheism, 103-4 Atheist Publishing House, 104 Atheneum (Atenei), publishing house, 56n Atkins, H. G., 140 Attitudes, official, toward the classics, 81-147 Authors: classical: of antireligious bent, 78; biographies, 122: of children's books 69-72; compared with contemporaries 116; criticism of, 17, 5788, 117-18; and ideology, 11, 96-97, 114-16; nationalization, 21, 186 (table): as patriots, 118, 135, 137; persecution, in prerevolutionary Rus-

214 Authors (Continued) sia, 3-4; prestige, in prerevolutionary Russia, 151-52; publication (tables), 188-98; rating, 31; reactionary, 40; rehabilitation, 114, 145-47; selection, xii, 44, 84-85, 149; and Soviet literature, 167-76; and Soviet man, 116; Western influences on, 140 foreign: and Lermontov, 130; and Russian readers, 166 —Soviet: 9, 82-83; and children's literature, 72-73; ideological demands on, 160; and liberal period, 166n Babel, Isaac, 40; as influenced by Gogol, 168 Bakunin, Mikhail, 121; nationalization (table), 186 Batiushkov, K. N., edition, 57n, publication (tables), 188, 196, 198; as published by Academia, 56; unofficial censorship of poems, 31 η Beat generation, in USSR, 174 Belinskii, Vissarion: 4, 117; criticism of, 87; and foreign influence, 121, 131; on Gogol, 137n; and Lermontov, 121; nationalization (table), 186; q-tot-d, 1!7; on R'iss : an chîrccte-, 157n Belles-lettres: Communist Party influence on, 8; freedom of, 7-8; nonpolitical, 40; popularity, 151; publication (tables), 179, 182-84; restrictions on, 60 Benediktov, V. G., edition, 57n; publication (tables), 188, 196, 198 Bestuzhev-Marlinskii, Α., edition, 57n\ and military themes, 80; publication (tables), 188, 198 Bezbozhnik (The Godless), magazine, 79 Biblioteka kolkhoznika, see Collective Farmer's Library Biblioteka nachinaiushchego chitatelia, see Library of the Beginning Reader Blok, Alexander, postwar revival of interest in, 70n, 161 Bogdanovich, I. F., fiction sponsored by Imperial government, 4η Bonch-Bruevich, V.D., editor of Pushkin, 55 Bondi, S. M., editor of Pushkin, 55

INDEX Book Annals (Knizhnaia letopis'): 9; and Dostovevsky, 50; on incomplete editions, 48n; publication lists, 27; on Tolstoy, 37; on Zhukovskii, 48 Book for the Socialist Village, T h e (Knigu—sotsialisticheskoi derevne), 61 Booklets, classics abridged as, 28-29 Book-of-the-Month Club, 128 Book production, prerevolutionary, ix; Soviet, ix, statistics, 11-12 Books: banned, 60; black market, 85; destruction of, 2, 149n; distribution, 163, 179 (table); ownership, 149; picture-book sales, 153; in Imperial Russia, 2-4; publication (tables), 17779; recommended, 89; sales, 149-50, 152-53; selection, xi, 25-26; and Soviet reader, 151; see also Children's books; Classics; Fiction; Literature Bookseller, political role, 9-10 Bookselling, illegal, 2η Bookstores, Soviet, 84 Boratynskii, Ε. Α.: edition, 57n; literary critics on, 105; publication (tables), 188, 196 "Borodino" (Lermontov), 76 "Bourgeois objectivism," 94-95 "Boys, T h e " (Saltykov-Shchedrin), 78 Braille, 68 Bread (Mamin-Sibiriak), 39 Briusov, Valerli, postwar revival of interest in, 70n, 161 "Bronze Horseman, T h e " (Pushkin), 153, 164 Brothers Karamazov, The (Dostoyevsky), 31-32, 50; for children, 70; film, 71-72; ideological influence, 173 Bukharin, N., and literature, 13 Bukinisty, secondhand dealers, and illegal bookselling, 2n Bulgakov, Mikhail, 165 Bulgarin, Faddei, on sponsorship of literature, 3-4; Ivan Vyzhigin, sales of, 152 Bunin, Ivan, postwar revival of interest in, 70n, 161 Byron, Gordon, lord, and Lermontov, 129 Capitalism: German, 132; ideological attacks on, 109; indictment of, 106; as portrayed in the classics, 174-75 Captain's Daughter (Pushkin), 65 "Case of Rykov & Co., T h e " (Chekhov), 57

INDEX Cathedral Folk (Leskov), 31, 126; as children's literature, 70 Caucasus, and Lermontov, 138; publishing house in, 75, 77-78; subjugation of, 123 Caucasus, Works about the (Tolstoy), 65 Censorship, of books, 1-7, 30-35; of the classics, xiii; prerevolutionary, 3; and public catalogues, 30; Soviet, veto power of, 22 Centennials, see Anniversaries Central Asia, publishing in, 77-78; subjugation of, 123 Central Committee, see Communist Party Cervantes, Miguel de, Don Quixote, 42; as influence on Leskov, 130 "Chameleon, T h e " (Chekhov), 35 Chauvinism, 138, 140 Cheka, justification of, 101 Chekhov, A. P., xiii; and antireligious expression, 78; Cherry Orchard, 165; and children's literature, 24, 69; criticism of, 17, 45, 87-89, 115; editions, 28, 44, 48, 53, 51n, 62; on the individual, 164; and Leskov, 125; local appeal, 65; and military themes, 80; and moral values, 165: nationalization (table), 186; and the 1930s. 113; plays by, 24, 29; publication figures, 91 (tables), 187-93, 195, 197; as published by Art, 58; as published by Ogonëk, 57; and readers, 13; reissues of short stories, 34-35; on Russian character, 137 Cheliabinsk, publishing houses in, 65 Chénier, André de, as translated by Lermontov, 129 Chernyshevskii, N. G.: Leskov's attack on, 126; nationalization (table), 186; on Nekrasov, 117; quoted, 117; Turgenev's opinion of, 102n; What Is to Be Done, 126 Cherry Orchard (Chekhov), 165 Childhood of Bagrov's Grandson, The (Aksakov), 70 Children's books: 24; editions, 67-73, 77«; in non-Russian languages, 6869; prewar output of favorites. 69; as published for adults, 29; publishing houses, 68 Children's Publishing House, see State Publishing House of Children's Literature

215 China, Communist, privately-owned publishing houses, 22n Christianity, peasants and, 104 Churchill, Sir Winston, The Second World War, 52η Circle, T h e (Krug), publishing house, 56n Class consciousness, theme, 39 Classics: German, and Nazi ideology, 18 n38; —Russian, assimilation of, 113; and the cold war, 136-47; Communist Party interpretation of, 142-44; cost, 28-29, 41; criticism of, 18-19, 134; criticism, lampoon of, 203-6; dissemination, 43; editions, 15, 24, 43-80 passim, 154; editorial work, 52; film adaptations, 71-72; Imperial Russia viewed in, 107-10; length of, and mass printing, 28; in minority languages, 113; and moral values, 165, 171-72; myth of, 113; nationalization, 20-41 passim, 58-59, 81, 186 (table); "neutrality of content," 35, 72; in the 1930s, 114-14; and non-Soviet ideology, 170; political uses of, 1519, 54, 62-63; popular knowledge of, 83; popularity, 92; production, xii; as propaganda, 118^36 passim; publication, 20-26, 113, tables, 187, 190-99; "reactionary," 70; and readers, 148-66; and relationship to Soviet literature, 167-76; in schools, 157-58; selection for publication, 16; Soviet policy on, 1215; statistics on, 15, 155; success, 154; in the theater, 158; —Western, black market in, 85, 162 See also Literature Class struggle, and the classics, 94-107 "Coffin Maker, T h e " (Pushkin), 153 Cold War, and the classics, 136-47 Collective Farmer's Library, The (Biblioteka kolkhoznika), series, 62 Colonialism, tsarist, réévaluation of, 123 Comic strips, 77η Commentaries: 54, 85; in multivolume editions, 54; in the 1920s, 96-104; patriotism in, 134; political value, 18-19, 91; in popular editions, 170; Soviet propaganda in, 109—10; see also Criticism "Commercials," Soviet, 10-12, 17-19

2i6 Communications media, political use of, 17 Communist China, and books, I63n Communist Party: Central Committee, 89, 148, 158n; dictatorship of, 7; essays by leaders, 85-86; "internationalist" policy of, 128, 130; interpretations of the classics, 142-44; and orthodoxy, 117, 119; and printed matter, 148; and retention of old cultural heritage, 15 "Comparativism," in literary scholarship, 127-29, 141 Conformity, intellectual, in U.S., χ Content, ideological, and reprinting?, 53 Cooperatives, in publishing, 23 Correspondence with Friends (Gogol), 53 Cosmopolites, denounced, 142 Council of Ministers, and anniversary editions, 44 Council of People's Commissan, See Council of Ministers Crime and Punishment (Dostoyevsky), 53; film adaption, 71-72 "Criminal, T h e " (Chekhov), 35 "Critical realism," 167 Criticism, literary; 81-147 passim; "anticomparativist" tone of, 139-40; and the classics, xii, 90-91; didacticism of, 93; innovation in, 116-17; lampoon of, 203-6; leniency in, 9495, 119; on Leskov, 124-27; "lesser evil" doctrine in, 139; in monographs, 86; in multivolume editions, 53; "negation of the negative," 114— 15; in the 1930s, 107-18; political importance, 18, 85-86, 89; prerevolutionary, 97. 113; terminology, 8788, 116-17, 140-41 Crocodile (Krokodil), humor journal, 160 Culture: exchanges, xiii, 24n, 128-29, 141; Marxist view of, 128; projects, purposes of, 14; proletarian, 14-15; ties with Western Europe, 130 Cyrillic alphabet, 151 Dal', Vladimir, nationalization {table), 186 Davydov, D. V., publication (tables), 188, 196 Days and Nights (Simonov), 128 Days of the Turbins (Bulgakov), 165

INDEX Dead Souls (Gogol), 53, 137n, 152 Death of Ivan the Terrible (Tolstoy. A. K.), 36 Decadents, suppressed, 70 Decembrist revolt, 121-22; Manuilov on, 124n Del'vig, Α. Α., edition, 57n; publication, (tables), 188, 196 Derzhavin, G. R., 21; edition, 57n; "Monument," 163; publication (tables), 188, 194. 196 Detizdat, see State Publishing House of Children's Literature Devilish Dolls (Leskov), 131 Diary of a Writer, (Dostoyevsky), 50, 53. 60 Dickens, Charles, 113 Distribution, chronological, of multivolume editions, 46 Dobroliubov, Ν. Α., nationalization (table), 186; quoted, 117; Turgenev's opinion of, 102n Dr. Zhivago (Pasternak), 161 "Dog with a White Mark, A" (Chekhov), 29 Doloi negramotnost', see Down With Illiteracy Domherr, Ludwig, 47η, 55η Dostoyevsky, Fëdor: xii-xiii; anti-Polish writings, 76n; on books, 162; centennial, 16; and children's literature, 70-71; criticism of, 86-88, 96, 105, 115; editions, 31, 50-53 passim; as journalist, 9; and Leonov, 168; and Leskov, 125; Lunarcharskii on, 110: and moral values, 165, 171; nationalization (table), 186; on Nekrasov, 102; publication, 33-34, tables, 187-93, 195, 197; "rehabilitations," 145; stage adaptions, 24; novels, 29; political influence, 114, 170, 172-73; popularity, 31, 156 Down with Illiteracy (Doloi negramotnost'), publishing house, 61 "Dragonfly and the Ant, T h e " (Krylov), 36 Drama, publication of, 24, 58; nonSoviet, 158n Dubrcrvskii (Pushkin), 29, 77 Duel (Kuprin), 80 Dumas, Alexandre, sales of, 152 Ears of Grain, journal, 97-98 Editions: complete, 45, 51n, 55-56; of individual classics, 24; for the minor-

INDEX ities, 75-80; popular, 29; scholarly, 59: size, 31, types, 42-80 multivolume: 33, 43-44; chronological distribution, 46; criticism in, 86, 92-93; format, 44, ideology, 45; lesser known writings in, 52; pace of publication, 46-47, 51; printings of single volumes, 53; uncompleted, 48-49 See also Literature Editors, of the classics, 54-55 Educational Textbook Publishing House (Uchebno-Pedagogicheskoe Izdatel'stvo), publishing house, 68 Eighth Party Congress, see Party Congress, Eighth Ehrenburg, Ilya, 9, 82, 132 "Elephant and the Doggy, T h e " (Krylov), 36 Emigrés, suppressed, 70 "Enchanted Wanderer, T h e " (Leskov), 38, 63 Engels, Friedrich, and literature, 13 Ershov, P. P., 58, 69; in children's literature (table), 69; edition, 57republication (tables), 188, 192-93, 197 Ertel', Alexander, nationalization (table), 186 Estonia, 77 Evening Moscow (Vecherniaia Moskva), journal, 85 Evenings on a Farm near Dikanka (Gogol), 152, 157 Evgen'ev-Maksimov, V., Nekrasov authority, 137, 143 Existentialism, xii Fables, 35-36, 78 Factory Whistle, T h e (Gudok), publishing house, 61 Fadeev, Alexander, as children's author, 72-73 Fathers and Sons (Turgenev), 171 Federation (Federa tsiia), publishing house, 56n Federatsiia (Federation), publishing house 56n Fedin, Konstantin, editions, 168 Fénelon, François, and Leskov, 130 Fet, Α. Α.: 21; editions, 31, 45, 57n,· lyrics, 29; nationalization (table). 186; on Nekrasov, 103; publication (tables), 187-88, 194, 196; "rehabilitation," 145; as "stepchild," 17

217 Fiction: publications (table), 181; 111 prerevolutionary Russia, 152; and readers, 156; see also Classics; Literature Fish, Gennadii, on Leskov, 53 Five-Year Plan, First, 108; Second, 110 Flamelet, see Ogonëk Flaubert, Gustave, and Leskov, 130 Flavius, Josephus, and Leskov, 130-31 Folk literature, and nationalism, 15; printing of, in Imperial Russia (table), 182 Fonvizin, D. I., edition, 168; nationalization (table), 186; publication (tables), 188, 190-93, 195, 198; as published by Art, 58 Footnotes, see Commentaries; Criticism Foreign literature, see Literature, foreign Foreign policy, Soviet, and influence on literary scholarship, 131; preWorld War II, 119 Forewords, see Commentaries; Criticism Format, art editions, 58; of multivolume sets, 44 Frenkel', L. D., publishing house, 56» Friday (Uspenskii), 79 Frigate "Pallas" (Goncharov), 36, 40 From Siberia (Chekhov), 65 Futurists, as innovators, 167 Garin-Mikhailovskii, N.: and children's literature, 70; nationalization (table), 186; publication (tables), 188, 196 Garshin, Vsevolod: military themes of, 80; nationalization (table), 186; popular editions, 153 "Gavriliada" (Pushkin), 78 Geduldig, Alfred, quoted, 173-74 Germans, ridiculed by Krylov, 134n Germany, under Nazism, 199, 130, 136; Nazi ideology and the classics, I8n Gershenzon, M., 89-90 Glazunov, I., publisher, 24 Glinka, F. N., edition, 57n Gnedich, Ν. I., edition, 57n; publication (tables), 188, 196 Godless, The (Bezbozhnik), magazine, 79 Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von, and Lermontov, 129 Gogol, Ν. V.: and Babel, 168; criticism of, 54, 87, 115; editions, 44, 53,

2i8 Gogol, Ν. V. (Continued) 153; Inspector General, 43; and moral values, 165; nationalization (table), 186; and politics, 17, 171; popularity, 33-34, 156; on prerevolutionary Russia, 108; publication (tables), 187-93, 195, 197; published by Art, 58; reissues, 36; on Russian character, 137; sales, 152; as satirist, 145; as soldier's reading, 157; Taras Bul'ba, 76n; "Ukrainian" stories, 29 Gold (Mamin-Sibiriak), 39 Goncharov, I. Α.: 65; criticism of, 86; editions, 49, 51n, 53; Frigate "Pallas," 36, 40; and Leskov, 125; and moral values, 165; nationalization (table), 186; on Nekrasov, 102; Oblomov, 49, 110; publication (tables), 187-92, 19495, 197; as published by Ogonëk, 57; and Georges Sand, 131 Good Soldier Schweik (HaSek), 79 Gorky, Maxim: 13; and cultural projects, 14, and the Imperial Academy, 45; on Leskov, 31, 125-26; Poet's Library, 57; and Pushkin edition, 55; as soldier's reading, 157 Gorky, city, 63 Gosizdat, see State Publishing House Goslitizat, publishing house, output (table), 185 Gosudarstvennoe Izdatel'stvo Detskoi Literatury, see State Publishing House of Children's Literature Got'e, Iu„ 89-90 Great October Socialist Revolution, The, 111 Griboedov, A. S.: 96, 105n; on chauvinism, 139; criticism of, 87, 105; edition, 57n; and Lermontov, 142; lesser known work, 58; nationalization (table), 186; picture-book adaptations, 153; plays, 24; publication (tables), 188, 190-93, 195, 197; as published by Art, 58 Grigor'ev, Apollon, 96; edition, 57n; publication (tables), 188, 196 Grigorovich, D. V.: Anton the Hapless, 63; and children's literature, 70; nationalization (table), 186; postwar revival of interest in, 161; publication (tables), 188, 196; and Georges Sand, 131 Grossman, Leonid, 127n; 1945 biography of Leskov, 133 Groznyï, city, 65

INDEX Gudok, see Factory Whistle, T h e Gudzii, Ν. K„ on Tolstoy, 132-33 Gulliver's Travels (Swift), as social satire, 71 Hangen, Welles, quoted, 85 Harvard University Russian Research Center, 70n, 156 HaSek, Jaroslav, Good Soldier Schweik, 79 Hawthorne, Nathaniel, significance to generation of the 1930s, 113 Health, publications (table), 179 Heine, Heinrich, as translated by Lermontov, 129 Hero of Our Time, A (Lermontov), 75 Herzen, Alexander: dislike of Germans, 131; and Lermontov, 121; Leskov on, 126; and Nekrasov, 102, 116; nationalization (table), 186; as patriot, 135; political influence, 171; and Georges Sand, 131 Heyerdahl, Thor, Kon Tiki, 162 Highet, Gilbert, on Jesuit schools, 15 History, Russian, and the classics, 63; idealization of, 146 History of a Certain Town, The (Saltykov-Shchedrin), 171 History of the CPSU (B) (Stalin), 11-12 Hoffmann, Ernst, as influence on Leskov, 131 Holidays, religious, 103n Hound of the Baskervilles, The (Doyle), popularity, 162-63 House of the Dead, The (Dostoyevsky), 70 Housing, Russian, 151 Human relations, as portrayed in the classics, 175 Humpback Pony, The (Ershov), 58, 69 Hungary, and reactionaries' use of the classics, I72n Iakubovich, P. F., nationalization (table), 186 Iazykov, Ν. M., edition, 57n Iconoclasta, in the 1920s, 96-97 Ideology: in children's books, 68-69; and the classics, xii, 54; in journalism, 8-9; and literary polemics, 94; and multivolume editions, 45; "neutral," 72; for the proletariat, 62; and reprintings, 53 Illiteracy, ix; conquest of, 42, 51; struggle against, 27-28, 60-61

INDEX Imperial Academy, and Gorky, 45 Imperial Russia, army, 60; colonialism reevaluated, 123; and literature, 154; and the West, 143 India, Tolstoy's influence on, xii Individualism, bourgeois-anarchistic, 5 6 Inspector General (Gogol), 43, 157 Insulted Neteta (Leskov), 130-131 Intelligentsia: Communist Party distrust of, 148; editions for, 43-60; of the 1920s, 97; Soviet educated, 148 Intermediary, T h e (Posrednik), publishing house, 24-26, 53 Internationalism, cultural, 128; in Nekrasov's poetry, 101 "Iron Will, T h e " (Leskov), 38, 133 Iskusstvo (Art), publishing house, 56, 58 Isolationism, Soviet postwar, 140 lunaia Rossiia, see Young Russia lurii Miloslavskii (Zagoskin), 152 Ivan Vyzhigin (Bulgarin), 152 Izdatel'stvo pisatelei ν Leningrade, see Leningrad Writers' Publishing House Izhevsk, city, 75 Jasienski, Bruno, 40 Jesuits, and the classics, 15 Jews in Russia, The (Leskov), 127 Journalism Communist, 8-9 Journals, see Magazines Journey from Petersburg to Moscow (Radishchev), 36 Jubilees, see Anniversaries Juvenile literature: 67-73, 181-82 (tables); Western, 29 Kalb, Marvin L., quoted, 173 Kamenev, Lev: 54-55, 95, 101; and literature, 13; on Nekrasov, 9899 Kapital, Das (Marx), 60 Karamzin, Ν. M., 21; publication (tables), 188, 190, 196 Karelian republic, publishing houses in, 77 "Kashtanka" (Chekhov), 29 Kazahhstanskaia pravda, see Pravda Kerensky, Alexander, provisional government of, 94 Khadzhi Murat (Tolstov), 75; reissues, 37

219 Khrushchev, Nikita, on literature, 86, 112 Kliuchevskii, V. O., 59; on 18th century Russia, 174 Knigu—sotsialisticheskoi derevne, see Book for the Socialist Village, T h e Knizhnaia letopis', see Book Annals Kock, Paul de. sales of, 152 Kol'tsov, A. V.; 30; editions, 35, 57n; local appeal, 66; nationalization (table), 186; picture-book adaptations, 153; poems, 65; publication (tables), 187-88, 191-92, 194, 196, 198 Komsomol'skaia pravda, see Pravda Kon Tiki (Heyerdahl), 162 Korolenko, V. G.: 25; biography, 122n; and children's stories, 25; criticism of, 54, 82, 88, 97; editions, 45, 48; local appeal, 65, 75; picture-book adaptations, 153; on politics, 97; postwar revival of interest in, 161; publication (tables), 187-93, 195, 197; rating as classic writer, 31; on Russian character, 137; reissues, 34; Tongueless, 40 Koz'ma Prutkov, see Prutkov, Koz'ma Krasnaia nov', see Red Virgin Soil Kravchinskii, Sergei, nationalization (table), 186 Krest'ianshaia gazeta, see Peasant Gazette, The Krestovskii, V. V., publication (tables), 188, 196; as published by Academia, 56 Krokodil, see Crocodile Krug (The Circle), publishing house, 56fi Krylov, I. Α.: 134n; and children's literature, 69; criticism of, 81, 91; edition. 57tj; fables, 24, 29, 35-36; and local appeal, 77; moral influence, 171; nationalization (table), 186; picture-book adaptations, 153; publication, 28, tables, 188-93, 195, 197; reissues, 35-36 Küchelbecker, W. K., 21; edition, 57n; publication (tables), 188, 198 Kuibyshev, city, 65 Kulaks, 13, 110-11 Kuprin, Alexander: biography, 122n; and military themes, 80; postwar revival of interest in, 70n, 161 Kushchevskii, I. Α.; 65, publication (tables), 188, 196

220 Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk (Shostakovich), 161 Land and Factory (Zemlia i fabrika), publishing house, 61-62 Large Soviet Encyclopedia, 145η, 146n Last Son of Liberty, The (Lermontov), 120

Latvia, 77 Lavrov, Pëtr, nationalization (table), 186 Law, Russian proverb on, 3 Lebedev, P. I., see Polanskii, Valerian "Left-Handed Smith, T h e " (Leskov), 63 Lenin: and literature, 13; "Party Organization and Party Literature," 5 6; quoted, 117; on Tolstoy, 92 Lenin Library, lists of books, 89 Leningrad Writers' Publishing House Izdatel'stvo pisatelei ν Leningrade), 56 η Leonov, Leonid: and Dostoyevsky, 168; editions, 168; and moral values, 165 Lermontov, M. lu.; anti-German feeling of, 131; biographers of, 121-22, 129; and the Caucasus, 123, 138; literary criticism of, 86-87, 89, 106-7, 115, 118-24, 139, 143; and the Decembrists, 122; editions, 51n, 53, 57n, 134; influences on, 129, 142; on the individual, 164; The Last Son of Liberty, 120; life, 120-22; and local appeal, 75; lyrics, 29; and Napoleon, 134n; nationalization (table), 186; on patriotism, 135-38; and politics, 117, 170; popularity, 156; publication, 3334, tables, 187-93, 195, 197; published, by Art, 58; and Pushkin, 12021; "rehabilitation," 126; reissues, 3738; as translator, 129; Vadim, 120; and Western literature, 129 Lesiuchevskii, Nikolai, quoted, 155 Leskov, N. S.: 21; anti-German feeling of, 133; At Daggers Drawn, 125; attack on Chernyshevskii, 126; biography of, 133; Cathedral Folk, 31, 126; and Caucasian lore, 138; and children's literature, 70-71; criticism of, 17, 82, 86-87, 107, 115, 118; Devilish Dolls, 131; editions of, 31, 53, 63, 127n, 153; Gorky on, 125; Insulted Neteta, 130-31; "The Iron Will," 133; The Jews in Russia, 127; "The Left-Handed Smith," 63; The Neglected, 126; on Nekrasov, 102; No

INDEX Way Out, 53, 125-26; as patriot, 135: and propaganda, 135; publication (tables), 187-88, 190, 192-93, 195, 197; "reactionary" novels, 60, réévaluation of, 124-27; "rehabilitation," 38, 145; reissues, 38; on religious tolerance, 127; on Russian character, 137; Tale of Theodore the Christian, 127; Western influences on, 130-31 "Lesser evil" doctrine, see Criticism, literary Lessing, Gotthold Ephraim, and Lermontov, 129 "Liberalization," post-Stalin, 85-86, 95 Libraries, holdings (table), 180; number, 155; statistics on, 149 Library of the Beginning Reader, The (Biblioteka nachinaiushchego chitatelia), publishing house, 61 Lieutenant Belozor (Bestuzhev-Marlinskii), 80 Linguistics publications (table), 179 Literary criticism, see Criticism, literary Literary Encyclopedia: and criticism, 82; and Krylov, 91; and Ostrovskii, 108-9 Literary Gazette, The (Literaturnaia gazeta), 53, 84; on children's literature, 162; quoted, 155 Literary heritage, period of disparagement of, 97, Literary-Publishing Department, scholars' letter of warning to, 89-90 Literary scholarship: and "comparativism," 127-29; influence of Soviet foreign policy on, 131, 147; and political moods, 128 Literatura i iskusstvo, see Literature and Art Literature: continuity of, 167-68; didactic, 10-12; erotic, 79; imaginative, selection of; xi, national, xi; neoclassical, 163-64; new, exchange of, 175; political, 28; printing (tables), 179, 182-83; professional, 28; selection of, 32-33, 48^9; 51, 55, 78, 8485, 149 foreign: and moral values, 166; in prerevolutionary Russia, 152; Soviet printing (table), 183 —Soviet: adolescence of, 161; and audience, 160-61; on black market, 155n; compared with classics, 32, 92, 167-76; demand for, 155; fac-

INDEX tors favorable to, 154-55; and humor, 160; and journalism, 8-9; monotony, 159; and moral values, 165-66; and neoclassical literature, 164; official attitudes toward, xii-xiii; political contents, 12; publishers, 56; purpose, 16S; revisions in xii-xiii; and sales in post offices, 155; as taught in school, 158; as instrument of the State, 164; subject matter (table), 179 Western: xii; translations, 24, 72, 162 See also Classics; Editions Literature and Art (Literatura i iskusstvo), 157 Literature and Revolution (Trotsky), 95 Literaturnaia gazeta, see Literary Gazette, The Little Soviet Encyclopedia, 82, 172 Local color, 77-78 Lomonosov, M. V., 21, 163 London, Jack, 72, 78n Lunacharskii, A. V.: Commissar of Education, 54; and cultural projects, 14; on Dostoyevsky, 110; on Korolenko, 98; on Lermontov, 143; and literature, 13 L'vov, city, publishing in, 77 Machtet, G. Α., nationalization (table), 186 Magazines, 151; literary, 160-61; and publication of the classics, 56-57; technical, 159 Maikov, A. N.: edition, 57n; nationalization (table), 186; publication (tables), 188, 198 Makar's Dream (Korolenko), 34 Malenkov, G. M., and literary themes, 11 Mamin-Sibiriak, D. N.: 21 anniversary, 39; and children's literature, 24, 69; editions, 45, 49. 53. 168 (table), 187; fairy tales, 39; local appeal, 65-66, 77; and politics, 49, 109; on prerevolutionary Russia, 108; publication, 28, 31, tables, 188-93, 195, 197; quoted, 141 n; selected writings, 49 Manuilov, V. Α., on Decembrists, I24n Mao Tse-tung, 1957 declaration, 94 Marshak, Samuil, as children's author, 72-73

221 Marx, Karl: Dot Kapital, 60; Leskov on, 126; and literature, 12-13; on village life, 99η Masses, cultural projects for, 14-15: literary criticism for, 93; publication for. 8. 27 Maupassant, Guy de, 78n Mayakovsky, Vladimir, 12-13; as innovator, 167; Mystery Bouffe, 1213 Mei, L. Α., edition, 57n; publication (tables), 188, 196 Mel'nikov-Pecherskii, P. I., 21, 30; publication (tables), 188, 192, 196; as published by Academia, 56 Mel'shin, P. Ia., picture-book adaptations, 153 Mikhalkov, Sergei, as children's author, 72-73 Mikhailovskii, Nikolai, nationalization (table), 186 Military publications, output (table), 179 Military Publishing House (Voenizdat), 37, 80; Anti-Religious Library, 79 Military themes, in literature, 36 Mining Nest, The (Mamin-Sibiriak), 39 Ministry of Internal Affairs (MVD), 21n Minorities, publication for, 76-77; as readers, 51; Russian language editions for, 73-80 Mirimanov, G. F., publisher, 24 Molodaia gvardiia, see Young Guard, The Molotov, V. M., on Fascism, 119 Moral values, in the classics, and the Soviet State, 171-72 Moscow (Moskva), journal, 85 Moscow Art Theater, repertory of, 158n Moscow Book Publishing House (Moskovskoe knigoizdatel'stvo), 24 Moscow Book Trading Company (Mosknigotorg), 84 Moscow Province Committee for Extracurricular Activities (Moskovskii Obkom Vneshkol'noi Raboty), publishing house, 68 Moscow University, 121 Moscow Worker, T h e (Moskovskii rabochii), publishing house, 62 Mosknigotorg, see Moscow Book Trading Company

INDEX

222 Moskovskii Obkom Vneshkol'noi Raboty, see Moscow Province Committee for Extracurricular Activities Moskovskii rabochii, see Moscow Worker, T h e Moskovskoe knigoizdatel'stvo, see Moscow Book Publishing House Moskva, see Moscow Mother (Gorky), 157 Mother Russia, love of, 118 Motion pictures, from the classics, 7172 Mtsyri (Lermontov), 37 Multivolume editions, see Editions, multivolume "Mumu" (Turgenev), 33, 62 Murav'ëv, M. M., ode to, 45, 103 MVD, see Ministry of Internal Affairs Mystery Bouffe (Mayakovsky), 12-13 Nadson, S. Ia., 40; nationalization (table), 186 Narodniks, 116 National minorities, and pseudopatriotism, 138 National republics, publishing houses, 76-78 Nationalism, and editions for nonRussians, 76; resurgence of, 118 Nationalization, of the classics, 81, 8990 Natural science publications (table), 181 Naval Publishing House (Voenmorizdat), 79 Nazi Germany, see Germany, under Nazism NEP, see New Economic Policy Neglected, The (Leskov), 126 Nekrasov, Nikolai: anniversary, 16-17, 39, 66, 100; anthology, 35, 116; character, 102; and children's literature, 69; editions, 44-45, 48, 51n, 57n, 62; criticism of, 86-87, 91, 98-105, 109112, 115, 117-18; and Herzen, 116; and Leskov, 125; nationalization (table), 186; as patriot, 135, 138; and Pisarev, 116; political use of, 11012, 171; publication (tables), 18793, 195, 197; as published by Ogonëk, 57; "rehabilitation," 126; on Russian character, 137; and Georges Sand, 131; Soviet reissue, 33; Who Can Be Happy and Free in Russia, 104, 11112; during World War II, 38, 133-34

Nevsky, A l e x a n d e r , m e n t i o n e d by Stalin, 119 New Economic Policy (NEP), 13-14, 22, 108

Newspapers, lists of recommended books, 89; opposition, banned by Lenin, 6 Nigger of Peter the Great, The (Pushkin), 153 Nihilists, Leskov on, 125 Nikitin, I. S., 30; editions, 57n, 62; importance of, 106; nationalization (table), 186; on Nekrasov, 102; on prerevolutionary Russia, 108; publication (tables), 188, 196, 198 Nikolai Negorev (Kushchevskii), 65 Niva, prerevolutionary magazine, 57 Nizhegorodskaia kommuna, see Nizhnii Novgorod Commune Nizhnii Novgorod Commune, and Russian-language editions, 63 No Way Out (Leskov), 53, 125-26 Northern Bee (Severnaia pchela), 152 Notes from the Underground (Dostoievsky), 31, 60 Novels, see Classics; Fiction; Literature Novosibirsk, city, 65 Oblomov (Goncharov), 49 "Oblomovism," l'O Odoevskii, A. I., 21, publication (tables), 188, 196; multivolume editions, publication (table), 187 Odoevskii, V. F.: edition, 57n; and Lermontov, 142; publication (tables), 188, 195 Officials and Kulaks (Nekrasov), collection of poems, 35 Officer and Orderly (Garshin), 80 Ogarëv, N. P.: edition, 57n; and Lermontov, 121; nationalization (table), 186; political influence of, 171; publication (tables), 188, 196, 198 Ogonëk (Flamelet), magazine, 56-57 Oksraan, lu. G., editor of Pushkin, 55 "Old Genius, T h e " (Leskov), 63 Olesha, Iurii, 40 Omsk, city, 65 Orwell, George, quoted, 91-92 Ostrovskii, Α. Ν.: 106n; as children's author, 72-73; criticism of, 95, 1089; editions, 5In, 53; importance, 106; nationalization (table), 186; plays, 24, 158n; publication (tables), 187-

INDEX 93, 195, 198; published by Art, 58; Thunderstorm, 165 Outer Mongolia, favorite books, 78 n22 Pamphlets, and socialist realism, 125n; Soviet output (table), 179 Panaev, I. I., and Georges Sand, 131 Paper, shortage, 28 Paperbacks, for the proletariat, 62; publication of, 57; see also Editions Party Congress, Eighth, resolution on communications media, 17; on teaching, 18 "Party Organization and Party Literature" (Lenin), quoted, 5-6 Pasternak, Boris, 70n, 166; Dr. Zhivago, attacks on, 161 Patriotism: local, 66; and pseudopatriotism, 135, 137; in wartime reissues, 38 Paustovskii, Konstantin, as children's author, 72-73 Peasant Gazette, T h e (Krest'ianskaia gazeta), publishing house, 61-62 Peasants: and book sales, 152-53; and Christianity, 104; and the land, 108; and workers, 99-100 "Peasants" (Chekhov), 35 Peddlers, as book sellers, 153 People's Commissariat of Education, 46-50; and juvenile literature, 68 Pestel', P. I., 122 Peter the Great (A. K. Tolstoy), 157 Petersburg Slums (Krestovskii), 56 Petrozavodsk, city, publishing house, 77 Physical culture, publications (table), 179 Pioneer, T h e (Pioner), publishing house, 68 Pioner, see Pioneer, T h e Pionerskaia pravda, see Pravda Pisarev, D. I., nationalization (table), 186; and Nekrasov, 116 Pisemskii, A. F.: 40; criticism of, 86; publication (tables), 188, 194, 198; and Georges Sand, 131; Troubled Seas, 30 "Plan for the Establishment of Uniformity of Thought in Russia" (Prutkov), 2-3 Planter, T h e (Seiatel"), publishing house, 56n Playwrights, Russian, 58 Plekhanov, Georgii, biography of, 122n; on pamphlets, 125n

223 Pleshcheev, Aleksei, edition, 57n; nationalization (table), 186 Poe, Edgar Allan, 78η Poet Nekrasov and Religion, The (Pokrovskii), 104 Poetry: anthologies, 35; issues of, 29, 32, 44-45, 57 Poet's Library, T h e (Biblioteka poeta), 57 Pokrovskii, G. Α., The Poet Nekrasov and Religion, 104 Pokrovskii, Μ. N., quoted, 109 Poland, Russian classics in, 76n Polanskii, Valerian (P. I. Lebedev), 81, on nationalization of classic authors, 20-22

Polezhaev, A. I., edition, 57n; publication (tables), 187-88 Polikushka (Tolstoy), 34, 62 Political publications, statistics, 11-12, 179 (table) Politics, and journalism, 5-9 Polivanovskii, S., 84 Polonskii, la. P., nationalization (table), 186 "Poltava" (Pushkin), 36, 153 Pomialovskii, N. G., nationalization (table), 186 Pope, Alexander, on the Aeneid, xii Posrednik; see Intermediary, T h e Possessed, The (Dostoyevsky), 31, 50, 60, 171 Post offices, and sales of Soviet literature, 155 Power of Darkness (Tolstoy), 62 Pravda, editions of, 159; on Lermontov, 143; on Tolstoy, 37 Pravda vostoka, see Pravda Precipice (Goncharov), 57, 65 Press: freedom, 5-6, 59-60; monotony of content, 159; political control of, 5-7; publication (table), 179 Printed matter, collectivization, 148 Printing, provincial, 64; size of, 36-37, 50, 62-63, 84, 91 Privalov's Millions (Mamin-Sibiriak), 39, 109 Profit, from the classics, 22; publishing, 41 Projects, cultural, see Cultural projects Proletariat, dictatorship of, 7; editions for, 60-67; urban, 100 Propaganda: antireligious, 78, 103; anti-Western, 143—44; change in, 35; dissemination of, 91; and literary

224 Propaganda (Continued) criticism, 88-89; and mass media, 17; postwar, 39-41; World War II, 136 Provinces, publishing houses, 63-67 Provincial Publishing House, 65 Prutkov, Koz'ma (pseud, of A. K. Tolstoy and the brothers Zhemchuzhnikov): edition, bin; "Plan for the Establishment of Uniformity of Thought in Russia," 2-4; on prerevolutionary Russia, 108; publication (tables), 187-88, 192, 194; as published by Ogonëk, 57 Public opinion, and publishing, 1-19 Publishing: characteristics of, 10; Communist Party control of, 7; and editions, 46-49, 153; government owned, 20-41, (tables), 188-90; in Great Britain and United States, 150; ideological and cultural policies, 9; privately owned, 7-8, 22-26, 56, 61; provincial, 63-67, 75-77; restrictions on, 60; in Russian and minority languages (table), 178; self-supporting, 150; statistics (table), 177; structure, 10 Purges, anticosmopolitan, 128 Pushkin, A. S.: anniversary, 154; antireligious expression of, 78-79; "Bronze Horseman," 164; and children's literature, 69: criticism of, 12-14. 54, 86-87, 106, 115; editions, 44, 47-48, 51, 51n, 53, 57n, 153; editors of, 55; Eugene Onegin, 106n; fairy tales, 29; and Lermontov, 121; lesser known works, 58; local appeal, 65, 77-78; lyrics, 29; "Monument," 163; moral values, 165, 171; nationalization (table), 186; The Nigger of Peter the Great, 153; picture-book adaptations, 153; plays, 24; poems, 64-65; and politics, 17, 171; popularity, 156; publication, 28, 91, tables, 187-93, 195, 197; and readers, 13; reissues, 36; sales, 152 Pushkin House (Pushkinskii dora), publishing house, 56n Pushkinskii dom, see Pushkin House Pypin, A. N., nationalization of, (table), 186 Radek, Karl. 95 Radishchev, A. N.: anniversary, 39; and contemporaries, 116; editions, 45, 47; nationalization (table), 186; on prerevolutionary Russia, 108; publica-

INDEX tion (tables), 187-88, 193, 196, 198; reissues, 36; Voyage from Petersburg to Moscow, 2 "Railroad, T h e " (Nekrasov), 109 RAPP, see Russian Association of Proletarian Writers Readers, xi, 26, 150-51; and the classics, 148-66; and criticism, 82; demands of, 32, 50, 84, 169-70; and foreign authors, 166; in Great Britain and United States, 150; juvenile, and the classics, 67; and lesser national writers, 158; and lists of recommended books, 89; and literature available, 28-32, 159; and moral values of the classics, 165; and political influence of the classics, 17072; preference, 42, 168; and public libraries, 149 Red Virgin Soil (Krasnaia nov'), 61 Reed, John, Ten Days That Shook the World, 59 Reference publications (table), 179 Religion: atheism, publications (table), 179; propaganda vs., 78 Religious books, publication of, 7-8 Religious tolerance, Leskov on, 127 Remarque, Erich-Marie, All Quiet on the Western Front, 79 Remizov, Alexei, 70n Reshetnikov, Fëdor, nationalization (table), 186 Riga, city, publishing houses, 77 "Robbery" (Leskov), 63 Robinson Crusoe (Defoe), 71 Russian Association of Proletarian Writers (RAPP), 12-13 Russian language editions, for nonRussian readers, 74, 77 Russian Research Center, Harvard University, 70n, 156 Russian Writers on the Prussian Vermin, 132 Ryleev, K. F.: 122; edition, 57n; nationalization (table), 186; publication (tables), 187-88, 198 Sakulin, P., 89-90 Saltykov-Shchedrin, M. E.: Abroad, 40; anniversary, 39; and antireligious expression, 78; and children's literature, 69; compared with contemporaries, 116; criticism of, 17, 86-87; editions, 33, 48, 51n, 62; nationalization (table), 186; as patriot, 135;

INDEX

225

political use of, 83, 171: a n d p r o p a g a n d a , S8; publication (tables), 187— 93, 195, 197; as published by Acad e m i a , 56; as published by Ogonëk, 57; as satirist, 43-44 Sand, Georges, influence on Russian writers, 131 Satire, social, in t h e classics, 143-44 Schiller, J o h a n n C. F. von, a n d Lermontov, 129 Scholarship, 86, 93, 130 Schools: classics as textbooks, 67; editions for, 75; public, 18 Science publications, distribution (table), 179 Schwartz, H a r r y , quoted, 173 Scott, Walter, in Russian translation, 72 Second W o r l d W a r , see W o r l d W a r II Seiatel' (The Planter), publishing house, 56n Semushkin, T i k h o n , 84 "Sentry, T h e " (Leskov), 63, 70 Serfdom, i n d i c t m e n t of, by classic authors, 106 "SeTgeant Prishibeev" (Chekhov), 35, 62, 80 Severnaia pchela, see Northern Bee Shakespeare, William, as translated by Lermontov, 129 Shelgunov, Nikolai, nationalization uf (table), 186 Shevchenko, T a r a s , Khrushchev on, 112 Sholokhov, Mikhail: a n d moral values, 165; p o p u l a r i t y , 156; The Silent Don, 157, 165; as soldier's reading, 157; as influenced by Tolstoy, 168 Short stories, for t h e masses, 63 Shostakovich, D m i t r i , Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk, attacks on, 161 Siberian Tales (Korolenko), 65 Silent Don, The (Sholokhov). 157, 165 Simmons, Ernest J., quoted, 12-13 Simonov, Konstantin, 9, 128 Sixteenth Ail-Union Congress of Soviets, see All-Union Congress of Soviets, Sixteenth "Skopin Bank Affair, T h e " (Chekhov). 57 "Sleepy" (Chekhov), 34, 62 Sleptsov, V. Α., nationalization 186 "Slight Error, A " (Leskov), 63

(table),

Social Democratic L a b o r Party, Russian, a n d control of press, 5 Social injustice, the classics on, 38-39, 107-10 Socialist Realism, xi, 125n, 167 Social satire, 143-^14 Sociopolitical publications, in libraries (table), 181 Soldier, typical, r e a d i n g preferences, 157 Soldiers, as theme, 79 Solov'ëv, Vladimir, on Nekrasov, 102 Sologub, F. K., edition, 57n; publication (tables), 188, 198 Son g of Tsar Ivan Vasil'evich the Terrible (Lermontov), 37 Songs about Landlords (Nekrasov), collection of poems, 35 Songs about Serfdom (Nekrasov), collection of poems, 35 Songs about the Slavish Life of the Past (Nekrasov), collection of poems, 35 Songs about the Village and the Village Poor (Nekrasov), collection of poems, 35 Songs of Struggle and Freedom (Nekrasov), collection of poems, 35 Sovetskii pisatel', see Soviet W r i t e r , The Soviet culture, assimilation of classics into, 83 Soviet policy, 139, 147 Soviet W r i t e r , T h e (Sovetskii pisatel'), p u b l i s h i n g house, 56-57, 185 (table) Sportsman's Sketches (Turgenev), 28, 33, 62 Stalin, Joseph: 108; a n d c u l t u r a l exthe changes, 128-29; History of CPSU(B), 11-12; a n d orthodoxy, 117; a n d period of terror, 85; Problems of Leninism, 6; recalling Nevsky, 119 Staniukovich, Κ. M., nationalization (table), 186; picture-book adaptations, 153 Stankevich, Ν. V., a n d Lermontov, 121 State Publishing H o u s e (Gosizdat), p u b l i s h i n g house: 8; antireligious p r o p a g a n d a in, 78; a n d decree in 1918, 16, 33; editions, 15, 38, 46, 49-50, 56, 60-61; ideological a n d cultural policies, 9; a n d "liberalization," 95; local branches, 75; Mass Series, 62-63; a n d p r o p a g a n d a , 56;

226 State Publishing House (Continued) statistics on, 9; titles published by, 29 State Publishing House of Children's Literature (Detizdat), 68-69; and multivolume editions, 46; output, 72, 157, 185; and Tolstoy, 37-38 Stilman, Leon, 55n Stilyagi, 174 "Stormism," 46-47, 49 Stowe, Harriet Beecher, 33 Sturm und Drang, theater of, in Russia, 129 Sukhovo-Kobylin, Α. V., 21, tables, 189, 191-92, 198 Sumarokov, A. P.: edition, 57n; neoclassicist, 163; publication (table), 189, 196 "Surgery" (Chekhov), 78 Surikov, Ivan, nationalization (table), 186 Surkov, Aleksei, 9 Sverdlovsk, publishing houses in 49, 65 Swift, Jonathan, 78n; quoted, 83 Symbolists, Russian, 57, 70 Sytin, I. D., publisher, children's stories, 24 Tale of Oleg the Wise (Pushkin), 36 "Tale of the Fisherman and the Fish" (Pushkin), 153 "Tale of the Left-Handed Cross-Eyed Smith from Tula and the Steel Flea" (Leskov), 38 Tale of Theodore the Christian (Leskov), 127 "Tale of the Parson and of His Man Balda, T h e " (Pushkin), 78 Tales of Sevastopol (Tolstoy), 37-38, 76, 80, 157 Tallin, city, publishing houses, 77 Taras Bul'ba (Gogol), 36, 157 Tashkent, city, publishing house, 76 Tchaikovsky, P. I., on Nekrasov, 102 Teatral, publishing house, 24 Technical books, 79, tables, 179, 181 Television, Russian, 151, 158 Tell, Wilhelm, Leskov on, 126 Terpigorev, Sergei, nationalization (table), 186 Theater: 129; for children, 73; growth, 27; popularity, 158 Thief (Leonov), 165

INDEX Thousand and One Nights, A, 78n Three Musketeers, The (Dumas), popularity, 162-63 Thrillers, in USSR, 67 Thunderstorm (Ostrovskii), 165 Tikhonov, Nikolai, 9 Time (Vremia), publishing house 56n Tito-Cominform rift, effect on criticism, 144 Tiutchev, F. I.: 21, 95; on censorship, 2; and criticism, 17; editions, 31-32, 45, 57n; lyrics, 29; publications (tables), 187, 189, 190-93, 196, 198 Tolstoy, A. K.: edition, 57n; historical trilogy, 36; nationalization (table), 186; publication (tables), 189, 192, 198; as soldier's reading, 157; see also Prutkov, Koz'ma, pseud. Tolstoy, D. Α., minister of education, 124 Tolstoy, Leo: and children's literature, 69; criticism of, 54, 86-88, 115; decline of, 25; editions, 24, 28, 44, 48, 62, 153; jubilee editions, 51-53, 200-2; fairy tales, 24; as forerunner of Soviet thought, 114; and Gudzii, 132-33; influence in India, xii; as journalist, 9; Lenin on, 92; and Leskov, 125-26; local appeal, 65, 75; and military themes, 80; moral influence, 165, 171; nationalization (table), 186; on Nekrasov, 102; and the 1930s, 113; novels, 29; official attitude toward, 25; as patriot, 135-36; plays, 24; popularity, 156; publication, 91, tables, 187, 189-93, 195, 197; as published by Academia, 56; as published by Art, 58; as published by Ogonëk, 57; and readers, 13, 157; reissues, 3438; religious-moralistic works, 60; and Sholokhov, 168; tales, 29 Tongueless (Korolenko), 40 Trade publications (table), 179 Translations, 24; atheistic, 79; demand for, 162-63; into Russian, 59, 72; of Russian books, 8 Trediakovskii, V. K.: edition, 57n; neoclassicist, 163; publication (tables), 189, 196 Trotsky, Leon, and literature, 13; Literature and Revolution, 95 Troubled Seas (Pisemskii), 30 Truth, see Pravda

INDEX T r u t h of Ulianovsk, T h e (Ul'ianovskaia pravda), publishing house, 65 Tsar Boris (Tolstoy, Α. Κ.), 36 Tsar Fëdor Ioannovich (Tolstoy, A. K.), 36 Turgenev, I. S.: and children's literature, 24, 69; criticism of, 17, 86-87, 105; editions, 28, 45, 49, 53, 57n; 62; on the individual, 64-65; and Leskov, 125; lesser known work, 58; and moral values, 165, 171; nationalization (table), 186; on Nekrasov, 102; plays, 24; political influence, 171; publication (tables). 187, 18993, 195, 197; as published by Art, 58; as reactionary, 105n; reissues, 33; and Georges Sand, 131 Tver', city reading preferences in 1860s, 152 Twain, Mark, in Russian translation, 72 Uchebno-Pedagogicheskoe Izdatel'stvo, see Educational Textbook Publishing House Udmurt Autonomous Republic, 75 Ul'ianovskaia pravda, see T r u t h of Ul'ianovsk, T h e Urals, publishing houses in, 65 Uspenskii, G. I.: anniversary, 39; and antireligious expression, 79; editions, 45, 51n, 62, 168; nationalization (table), 186; on Nekrasov, 102; publication (tables), 187, 189-93, 195, 197; rating as classic writer, 31; reissues, 32-34 Uvarov, S., on censorship, 3 Uzbek Republic, 76 Vadim (Lermontov), 120 "Van"ka" (Chekhov), 34, 62 Vecherniaia Moskva, see Evening Moscow Venevitinov, D. V., edition, 57n; publication (tables), 189, 196 Veresaev, V. V., 89-90 Verne, Jules, 72, 78n Viazemskii, P. Α.: edition, 57n; literary critics on, 105; publication (tables), 189, 196 Village Misery (Kol'tsov), collection of poems, 35 Voenizdat, see Military Publishing House

227 Voenmorizdat, see Naval Publishing House Volgin, V. P., editor of Pushkin, 55 Voltaire, F. M. A. de Belinskii's infatuation with, 121 Voronezh, city, 65 Voyage from Petersburg to Moscow (Radishchev), 2 Vremia (Time), publishing house, 56π War and Peace (Tolstoy); 76, 80, 165; film adaptation, 71-72; as published by Ogonëk, 57; reissues, 29-30, 37 Wazyk, Adam, "A Poem for Adults," 161 Wells, H. G., 78n West, the, propaganda vs., 39-41; traditional cultural ties with, 130, 131 Western-Siberian Territorial Publishing House, 65 What Is to Be Done (Chernyshevskii), 126 "What Should Be Read," publication of Lenin Library, 89 Who Can Be Happy and Free in Russia (Nekrasov), 104, 111-12 "Wig Artist, T h e " (Leskov), 38, 63 Winter on Studinaia River (MaminSibiriak), 77 Woe from Wit (Griboedov), 58 Woman's Lot, A (Nekrasov), collection of poems, 35 "Women" (Chekhov), 35 Workers, and peasants, 99-100, 108 World War II, and the classics, 36, 37, 118-36 Writers, see Authors Yezhov purges, 47-48 Young Communist League, publishing house of, 68, 79 Young Guard, The, publishing house, 68-69, 79 Zagoskin, M. N., sales of, 152 Zaraiatin, Evgenii, quoted, 176 Zasodimskii, P. V., nationalization (table), 186 Zemlia i fabrika, see Land and Factory Zhdanov, Α. Α.: articles, 85-86; as biographer, 122n; and literary themes, 11; on Soviet culture, 142; speeches, 39-40

228 Zhemchuzhnikov brothers, 2; nationalization (table), 186; publication (table), 192; see also Prutkov, Koz'ma, pseud. Zhukovskii, V. Α.: 48; and children's literature, 70; a n d critics, 81; edi-

INDEX tions, 51 n, 57 n; nationalization (table), 186; publication (tables), 187, 189, 191, 195, 197 Zlatovratskii, Nikolai, nationalization (table), 186 Zoshchenko, Mikhail, death of, 160