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The life and works of Alexander Ivanovich Ertel (1855-1908) : whither Russia? Griffin, Steven Richard 1996

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\ THE LIFE AND WORKS OF ALEXANDER IVANOVICH ERTEL (1855-1908): WHITHER RUSSIA? by STEVEN RICHARD GRIFFIN B.A., Arizona State University, 1986 M.A., State University of New York at Albany, 1989 A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY i n THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE STUDIES (Department of Russian and Slavic Studies) We accept this thesis as conforming to the required standard r THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA September 1996 Steven Richard G r i f f i n , 1996 In presenting this thesis in partial fulfilment of the requirements for an advanced degree at the University of British Columbia, I agree that the Library shall make it freely available for reference and study. I further agree that permission for extensive copying of this thesis for scholarly purposes may be granted by the head of my department or by his or her representatives. It is understood that copying or publication of this thesis for financial gain shall not be allowed without my written permission. Department of Russian and Slavic Studies The University of British Columbia Vancouver, Canada Date October 8, 1996 DE-6 (2/88) ABSTRACT Three p r i n c i p a l aspects of A. I. E r t e l ' s (1855-1908) art are considered i n t h i s reassessment of his l i f e and works. The f i r s t i s his religious ethnography, whereby he represents the f e l t quality of the religious r e v i v a l of his time i n a l l i t s d i v e r s i t y . The second aspect i s the dialogue which his works form with the question of national destiny. The t h i r d i s the s p i r i t u a l autobiography which his oeuvre represents. Accordingly, the approach taken i n t h i s study i s , from one perspective, h i s t o r i c a l and biographical, while from another i t w i l l make use of M. Bakhtin's notion of "polyphonic a r t i s t i c thinking" i n analyzing E r t e l ' s works. It i s the t h i r d aspect of E r t e l ' s art which gives this thesis i t s structure. In Part I, "Confrontation," representative early works are considered within the context of three philosophical confrontations: f i r s t , with the notion that the meaning of l i f e i s self-evident; second, with philosophical pessimism; and t h i r d , with Tolstoyism. Part Two i s devoted to two novels which r e f l e c t E r t e l ' s philosophy of "Compromise." These works present a hopeful view of both individual and corporate moral development i n spite of d i v e r s i t y and sweeping s o c i a l change. Part Three, "Counter Idea," examines two works which r e f l e c t the author's ultimate d i s s a t i s f a c t i o n with " a l l -embracing theories." i n these works E r t e l confronts the reader with reasons for hope and despair with regard to progress and the destiny of Russia. The Conclusion attempts to re-establish E r t e l ' s place i n Russian l i t e r a t u r e , giving consideration to the relevance of his works for today and to his particular narrative s t y l e . i i i Table of Contents Abstract i i Table of Contents i i i Note on Transliteration and Abbreviations v Acknowledgement v i Introduction 1 Biographical Sketch 10 Part One: Confrontation 21 Chapter One "What i s to be Done?" 24 "There i s Nothing to be Done:" Zapiski stepniaka 24 The Quest for Brotherhood: Two Stories on Greed 45 Chapter Two The Individual i n the Collective 52 Contra Tolstoy: Dve pary 52 "The S a c r i f i c e of One Child:" "Chervonets" 63 Part Two: Compromise 66 Chapter Three Providential Polyphony i n Gardeniny 78 Chapter Four Inertia and "The Struggle" i n Smena 130 Part Three: "Counter Idea" 160 Chapter Five Hope and Despair i n "Dukhovidtsy" 164 i v Chapter Six Matter and S p i r i t , or Russia and the West, i n Kar'era Strukova 184 Conclusion Bibliography 201 216 Appendix A Appendix B Between Hope and Despair: E r t e l ' s "Dukhovidtsy" and Chekhov's "The Head Gardener's Tale" Original of Indented Quotes 223 232 Note on Transliteration and Abbreviations In this thesis I employ the "modified" Library of Congress system of transliteration, i.e. without the diacritics and ligatures required by the rigid style. Exceptions to this rule are the following: 1. I use the common spelling for well-known names such as Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky, and Gogol, as well as geographical names with Anglicized spelling, eg. Moscow. 2. I omit the double " i " in names such as Mariia. 3. I retain the original spelling of sources quoted. 4. In the case of A. I. Ertel, I have chosen to render Aleksandr as Alexander, and to omit the soft sign in Ertel* in order to avoid the double apostrophe in "Ertel''s." List of Abbreviations: ANSSSR Akademiia nauk SSSR Gardeniny A. I. Ertel, Gardeniny. ikh dvornia, priverzhentsy, i vragi GIKhL Gosudarstvennoe izdatel'stvo khudozhestvennoi literatury PSS L. N. Tolstoy, Polnoe sobranie sochinenii PSSP A. P. Chekhov, Polnoe sobranie sochinenii 1 pisem RL Russkaia literatura RM Russkaia mysi' SEER Slavonic and East European Review SS A. I. Ertel, Sobranie sochinenii Zapiski A. I. Ertel, Zapiski stepniaka ACKNOWLEDGEMENT I am deeply grateful to Dr. Christopher Turner, my research supervisor, without whose patient encouragement, sound advice, and thorough reading of every chapter I would have neither completed nor enjoyed as I did this project. I am grateful to the other members of my committee, Dr. Derek Carr, Prof. Bogdan Czaykowski, and Dr. Peter Petro, for t h e i r careful readings of my work at every stage, and promptness with a l l t h e i r valuable suggestions. I would l i k e to thank the Hispanic Studies and Russian and Slavic Studies Departments for th e i r support i n the form of teaching assistantships, the s t a f f of the Inter-Library Loan Division for t h e i r help on numerous occasions, and the st a f f of the Manuscript Division, Russian State Library, Moscow, for permission to access the E r t e l archives. A word of thanks go to Dr. N. Parsons and Sebastian Garrett for t h e i r helpful suggestions during the early stages of the thesis. F i n a l l y , I wish to thank my wife S t e l l a for her support, advice, and genuine love of learning, which together have provided the very best context for t h i s endeavour, and my children Laura and Andrew, who are too young to know what kept dad so busy, but old enough to know that he was gone far too much. Introduction In today's post-Soviet Russia two questions which were asked a century ago have once again become prominent: What i s to be done about Russia, and what can be reasonably expected? Alexander E r t e l ' s contribution to Russian l i t e r a t u r e i s to be found i n the way i n which his works, with t h e i r attention to s o c i a l and ideological d i v e r s i t y , constitute a dialogue with these c r u c i a l questions, and i n many ways anticipate today's s o c i a l landscape. 1 If i n recent years the hope of a workers' Utopia has been ruined and Russia finds herself increasingly polarized on various levels, so too i n his day E r t e l believed that positivism as a philosophy was dead, that the populist hope (to bypass the c a p i t a l i s t stage and gradually construct a s o c i a l i s t society with the v i l l a g e mir as a basis) had been i l l u s o r y , 2 and he struggled against the kind of religious polarization represented by Pobedonostsev on the one hand and Tolstoy on the other. In 1929 Ivan Buninr wrote of E r t e l : "He i s now almost forgotten, and most have never even heard of him. . . . Who has forgotten his friends and contemporaries: Garshin, Uspenskii, Korolenko and Chekhov? In fact, on the whole, he was no lesser l o . Lasunskii, a s p e c i a l i s t i n regional studies at Voronezh State University, has noted that Ertel"s f i c t i o n i s valuable today precisely because of i t s special attention to a p l u r a l i t y of world views (Personal interview, 30 June 1995). 2A. I. E r t e l , Pis'ma. ed. M. O. Gershenzon (Moscow: I. D. Sytin, 1909) 311. a writer than they (with the exception of Chekhov, of course), and i n some respects he was even greater." 3 Ertel's f i c t i o n enjoyed some success i n Soviet Russia, where several editions of his novels and povesti. two monographs, and several theses on his works appeared (into the 1980's). There i s s t i l l much to be done, however, to assess E r t e l ' s contribution to Russian l e t t e r s . The primary reason for this i s that scholars have f a i l e d to take into account the complexity of his world view, and thus have overlooked ways i n which his works transcend the various trends which shaped his art and thought. Most c r i t i c s have regarded him as a populist with l i t t l e or no qu a l i f i c a t i o n , although Parsons has argued (as w i l l the present dissertation) that populism had no la s t i n g influence on him.4 Others maintain that E r t e l was a Tolstoyan, although E r t e l ' s correspondence (pa r t i c u l a r l y with Tolstoy's follower Chertkov) shows otherwise. 5 The three p r i n c i p a l Marxist-Leninist studies on E r t e l generally perceive him as a writer who t r u t h f u l l y depicted s o c i a l i n j u s t i c e , the r i s e of capitalism, and the J I . Bunin, introduction, Smena, by A. I. E r t e l (New York: Chekhov Pub. House, 1954) 3. "OH Tenepb noMTH 3a6biT, a JUJIA SojibiUHHCTBa H c o e c e M Hen3BecTeH. . . . KTO 3a6bui e r o J i p y 3 e f l H coepeMeHHHKOB, — Tapu iMHa, Y c n e H C K o r o , KopoJieHKO, M e x o B a ? A Be i ib B o6meM OH 6biJi He MeHbiue w x , — 3a HCKJiioMeHHeM, KOHeMHo, M e x o B a , — B HeKOTopbix oTHomeHHf lx . a a x e 6ojibiue" (Note: translations are my own unless indicated otherwise). 4N.S. Parsons, "Alexander E r t e l 1 as a Christian Humanist," SEER 46 (1968): 176. V. Terras' A History of Russian Literature places E r t e l firmly within the populist trend (New Haven: Yale UP, 1991) 458. 5M. Slonim, From Chekhov to the Revolution: Russian Literature 1900-1917 (New York: Oxford UP, 1962) 25. despair of the populist i n post-populist Russia, but overlook or downplay Ertel*s religious and philosophical outlook. 6 E r t e l ' s l i t e r a r y career (1880-95) spans a period which i s normally regarded as one of stagnation, where the only notable exceptions are assumed to be Chekhov, the l a t e r Tolstoy, Garshin and Korolenko. 7 From another perspective altogether, the period can be seen to mark the beginning of a religious r e v i v a l which, as Caryl Emerson explains, expressed i t s e l f i n four main ways: f i r s t , i n a form of Christian anarchism developed by Tolstoy as he sought to respond to the e t h i c a l problems of his day; second, i n a rekindling of the v i s i o n of Moscow as the t h i r d Rome and of Russia's redemptive mission; t h i r d , i n "religious ethnography" given expression by such writers as Leskov, who depicted religious types and movements i n his f i c t i o n ; and fourth, i n the symbolist trend with i t s celebration of "the mystic and apocalyptic side of Church teachings." 8 The second perspective provides a basis for a re-examination of E r t e l ' s works. On one l e v e l E r t e l succeeds Leskov as a "religious ethnographer," for i n his f i c t i o n he depicts the f e l t quality of the religious r e v i v a l among the ^Three book-length works on E r t e l have been consulted i n t h i s present thesis: two monographs by Soviet scholars G. A. Kostin (1955) and A. P. Spasibenko (1966), and V. V. Nikiforov's dissertation (1983). 7Recently Julian Connolly has referred to the period as "a time of lesser c u l t u r a l energies" i n C. A. Moser, ed., The Cambridge History of Russian Literature (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1992) 333. 8C. Emerson, "Russian Orthodoxy and the Early Bakhtin," Religion and Literature 22.2-3 (1990): 111. creative i n t e l l i g e n t s i a i n a l l i t s d i v e r s i t y . On another l e v e l his work i s c l e a r l y concerned with ideas, p a r t i c u l a r l y as he deals with the notion of progress, both individual and corporate. Since the primary task of t h i s present study i s to re-contextualize Ertel's works with a view to a better understanding of his art and thought, the approach adopted i s primarily h i s t o r i c a l and biographical. In analyzing E r t e l ' s works I s h a l l draw from sources which previous studies have dealt with inadequately: his correspondence, biographical data, and materials which shed l i g h t on the h i s t o r i c a l context (par t i c u l a r l y the dimension of religious thought and trends) of his f i c t i o n . While i n no way presuming to recover f u l l y the meaning of Ertel's works, I s h a l l nevertheless take his intentions (which he tended to make e x p l i c i t ) seriously, and assume that his philosophy and the s o c i a l and l i t e r a r y context of his works are helpful i n the task of interpreting his f i c t i o n . 9 As Jackson has noted, h i s t o r i c a l c r i t i c i s m i s a l l the more important now that r i v a l theories have been dominant for decades, with the result that contexts, especially for neglected writers, are more and more d i f f i c u l t to (re)construct. 90ne notes that i n her recent study of Tolstoy Donna Orwin admits: "I am under no i l l u s i o n . . . that I can completely reconstruct either the circumstances of Tolstoy's l i f e or his responses to those circumstances," but nevertheless sets out "to c l a r i f y the o r i g i n a l meaning of Tolstoy's works." Tolstoy's Art and Thought. 1847-1880 (Princeton, NJ: Princeton UP, 1993) 10. "Criticism innocent of h i s t o r i c a l c r i t i c i s m , " he adds, " i s not an available option." 1 0 I s h a l l argue that E r t e l ' s c r e a t i v i t y i s enhanced, to varying degrees, with what Mikhail Bakhtin c a l l s "polyphonic a r t i s t i c thinking." 1 1 For thi s reason, i n the evaluation of Ertel's f i c t i o n I make recourse to Bakhtin's notion of the "polyphonic novel," as well as related insights articulated by some of his interpreters. I s h a l l define Bakhtin's concept below, and explain why such a framework complements the h i s t o r i c a l method. Bakhtin referred to Dostoyevsky's creative genius as "polyphonic" because he found i n the novelist's works a " p l u r a l i t y of consciousness-centers not reduced to a single ideological common denominator." 1 2 What Dostoyevsky had done, esse n t i a l l y , was to create works i n which his own consciousness was not to be merged with that of any of his characters. He was interested i n the "interaction and interdependence" 1 3 of the various voices, not i n what any one voice i n particular had to convey. Given t h i s , the author as understood t r a d i t i o n a l l y can be seen to be "dead," and questions naturally arise as to the R. de J. Jackson, H i s t o r i c a l C r i t i c i s m and the Meaning of Texts (New York: Routledge, 1989) 150. 11M. Bakhtin, Problems of Dostoyevsky's Poetics, ed. and trans. Caryl Emerson (Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 1984) 279. 1 2Bakhtin, Problems 17. 1 3Bakhtin, Problems 36. necessity of combining the historico-biographical method outlined above with a Bakhtinian analysis. Bakhtin i n s i s t s , however, that he has i n mind "not an absence of, but a r a d i c a l change i n , the author's position . . . which permits the characters' points of view to unfold to t h e i r maximal fullness and independence." 1 4 To that extent the author i s of interest, i f only as the organizer or orchestrator of the p l u r a l i t y of voices. Further, while the polyphonic novel i s an a r t i s t i c creation, "heteroglossia" i s the framework, or set of s o c i a l , l i n g u i s t i c or h i s t o r i c a l circumstances, which the novel assumes. As defined by Holquist, the term refers to the "base condition governing the operation of meaning i n any utterance. It i s that which insures the primacy of context over t e x t . " 1 5 If any voice within the novel i s to be understood at a l l , i t must be r e l a t i o n a l l y ; likewise the novel i t s e l f cannot be properly understood apart from i t s h i s t o r i c a l context. At t h e i r best, E r t e l ' s works, as we s h a l l observe, display options instead of solutions i n engaging the discourse of Russia's destiny. I characterize the polyphony i n one of his novels as "providential," however, because there are i n the novel two c o n f l i c t i n g narrative structures: one adheres to the requirements of a Bildungsroman, while another contains the combination of heterogeneous material and " p l u r a l i t y of 1 4Bakhtin, Problems 67. 15M. Holquist, ed. The Dialogic Imagination (Austin: U of Texas P, 1981) 428. consciousness-centers" which characterizes the polyphonic novel. As such, a "monologic" narrative which conveys through the hero "the stages i n the evolution of a unif i e d s p i r i t " 1 6 i s not e n t i r e l y absorbed into polyphony. The result, I show, has i t s merit, for through t h i s c o l l i s i o n E r t e l provides a context i n which the reader i s invited to • consider a way i n which determinism might coexist with f r e e - w i l l , Providence with polyphony. Ertel's entire oeuvre represents a kind of s p i r i t u a l autobiography. Accordingly, t h i s study i s divided into three parts, each of which corresponds to a stage i n the author' s s p i r i t u a l and i n t e l l e c t u a l development. In the f i r s t , e n t i t l e d "Confrontation," I examine E r t e l ' s works written between 1880 and 1889 within the context of his three early philosophical confrontations: f i r s t , with the notion that the meaning of l i f e i s self-evident; second, with philosophical pessimism; and t h i r d , with Tolstoyism. In Chapter One I study three works which establish a degree of certainty regarding the question "what i s to be done?" These are Zapiski stepniaka ("Notes of a Steppe-dweller," 1880-83), i n which E r t e l found the message "there i s nothing to be done," and two didactic stories which r e f l e c t E r t e l ' s new confidence that the purpose of humanity was to l i v e i n brotherhood. In Chapter Two I examine two works with which E r t e l begins to question his previous c e r t a i n t i e s : i n Dve pary ("Two Couples," 1887) he challenges Tolstoy's universal 1 6Bakhtin, Problems 31. c a l l to the simple l i f e , and i n "Chervonets" ("The Gold Coin," 1889) he considers the value of the individual i n the c o l l e c t i v e . Part Two (Chapters Three and Four) i s devoted to two novels which r e f l e c t the author's philosophy of "Compromise." Gardeniny ("The Gardenins," 1889) presents a hopeful view of moral development and s o c i a l progress i n spite of d i v e r s i t y and sweeping s o c i a l change. Er t e l ' s second novel, Smena ("The Change," 1891), i n some ways a sequel to Gardeniny for i t s themes of progress and change, contains an optimistic view of s o c i a l reform through "small deeds" and s p i r i t u a l struggle. While i n these works there i s hope for Russia and progress i s "providential" and taken for granted, t h e i r dialogic nature puts i n question any future Utopia. In Part Three (Chapters Five and Six) I examine two works which r e f l e c t the "counter idea": E r t e l ' s ultimate d i s s a t i s f a c t i o n with "all-embracing theories." 1 7 As he comes to question the p o s s i b i l i t y of l a s t i n g reform i n his country, and becomes more convinced that the future had to hold "multiple p o s s i b i l i t i e s , " E r t e l becomes preoccupied with the question "What can be reasonably expected i n Russia?" In "Dukhovidtsy" ("Clairvoyants," 1893) the hero despairs over i n j u s t i c e , 1 7Morson writes: "Countertraditional thinkers expressed deep suspicion of the i n t e l l i g e n t s i a ' s claims to have discovered the One True Theory that explains a l l of history and guarantees Utopia. Countertraditionalists tended to deny that history has laws or that such all-embracing theories could be anything but spurious." "Time and the I n t e l l i g e n t s i a , " The Emperor Redressed, ed. D. Eddins (Tuscaloosa: U of Alabama P, 1995) 84. tragedy, and d i s s a t i s f a c t i o n with the vanity of l i f e , while the narrator represents, a l b e i t feebly, hope i n humanity and the w i l l to believe (I consider i n Appendix A p a r a l l e l s between th i s story and Chekhov's The Head Gardener's Tale). The f i n a l chapter i s devoted to Kar'era Strukova ("Strukov's Career," 1895), i n which Russia's destiny i s seen to be organically linked with that of the West. Biographical Sketch 1 Not long before his death i n 1908 E r t e l invited Bunin to his f l a t on Vozdvizhenka Street i n Moscow. Twenty years l a t e r Bunin would r e c a l l his v i s i t with the forgotten writer: How wise he i s , how much talent there i s i n his every word, i n every l i t t l e smile! What a mixture of v i r i l i t y and softness, of firmness and t a c t — a thoroughbred Englishman or Swede and a Russian cattle-dealer r o l l e d into one. How likeable he i s , how nice i s everything about him: the t a l l , dry figure i n the immaculate English s u i t , the snow-white linen, the large hands covered with reddish hairs, the drooping brown moustache, the melancholy blue eyes—and the amber cigarette holder with the expensive cigarette, and the whole room sparkling with sunshine, cleanliness and comfort! Who would believe that i n his youth t h i s man was too shy to open his mouth i n the humblest provincial drawing room, and did not quite know what to do with his napkin, and made the most ridiculous s p e l l i n g mistakes? 2 The roots of this "Englishman or Swede," on his father's side, were German. In the year 1811 a sixteen-year-old soldier i n Napoleon's army by the name of Ludwig E r t e l was captured at the Battle of Smolensk and taken to Russia by a certain Marinovskii, who intended to make the young man a serf. Dissuaded from t h i s by his father, Marinovskii simply l e f t 1Based on Ertel's autobiographical l e t t e r to Chertkov of June 1888 (Pis'ma 3-35), memoirs of contemporaries acquainted with E r t e l , E r t e l ' s correspondence, and Sebastian Garrett's (Ertel's great-grandson's) thesis, which contains an introduction to, and c o l l e c t i o n of, E r t e l ' s l e t t e r s to his daughter, Natalie Duddington. 2 I . Bunin, Memories and Por t r a i t s , ed. and trans. V. T r a i l l and R. Chancellor (London: John Lehmann, 1951) 119. Ludwig i n his v i l l a g e (Voronezh region) and returned to the army, while Ludwig came under the care of Marinovskii's s i s t e r s . There Ludwig i n due course served as tutor i n a gentry home, married a serf of the Marinovskii family, and became a member of the Russian Orthodox Church. U n t i l his death i n 1865 Aleksandr Mikhailovich, as he came to be calle d , worked on the estate where he was eventually survived by his four children. The oldest son, Ivan Aleksandrovich assumed his father's duties as estate manager, and when he was t h i r t y years old married Avdotia Petrovna Panova, the i l l e g i t i m a t e daughter of a nanny and a Zadonsk landowner by the name of Beer. On July 7, 1855, i n the v i l l a g e of Ksizovo, uyezd of Zadonsk, Voronezh guberniia. t h e i r son Alexander was born. Alexander remembered his father as s t r i c t but kind at heart, with a keen sense of just i c e . He kept up with current issues, and was admired as a remarkable, well-organized administrator. He was quick-tempered, however, and had a passion for wine and women. Indifferent to poetry, art and the beauty of nature, Ivan Aleksandrovich was the opposite of his wife, who was "no stranger to either sentimentality or romantic dreams."3 Although she received no formal education, Avdotia Petrovna nevertheless imbibed certain gentry customs and views. Alexander recalled how his mother was consistently kind i n spite of her husband's ill-temper, but sad, and far more religious 3pjs 'ma 5. "He n p o ^ b M OT ^yBCTBHTej ibHOCTH M OT Me^TaTe j ibHoro poM3HTH3Ma." than her husband. Alexander came to see i n his own character currents of both his father and his mother. When Alexander was about twelve his father took him to be apprenticed on an estate forty versts or so from home, where Alexander worked u n t i l he was eighteen. Avdotia Petrovna had wanted to have her son enrolled i n the Voronezh gimnaziia, but an acquaintance of Ivan Aleksandrovich's convinced him, i t seems, that Alexander's schooling would be his parents' ruin. For t h i s reason Alexander never received a formal education, but was taught to read by his mother, and to write by himself. By the age of thirteen he had read such works as A History of Napoleon. Pythagoras' Travels, a volume of One hundred Russian Writers, Songs of Kol'tsov, Tales of Pushkin, as well as Bible stories (he knew the story of Joseph p a r t i c u l a r l y well because he used to read i t to his grandmother), Gogol, Pisemskii, and others. He soon began to teach himself Old Church Slavic by reading hagiographic writings such as the Kievan Paterik and books from the Chet'i-minei. A f a i t h f u l , i f somewhat reluctant, church-attender, Alexander could r e c i t e the Creed and the Lord's Prayer, but by the age of seventeen he was already questioning, with the s p i r i t of his times, the d i v i n i t y of Christ, the Church and i t s doctrines, and the existence of God. In his late teens his reading interests were e c l e c t i c : he read Turgenev's early works, Tolstoy's War and Peace, h i s t o r i c a l novels by Lazhechnikov, Zagoskin, Zotov, 4 as well as Alexandre Dumas, Paul 4Lazhechnikov, I. I. (1792-1869); Zagoskin, M. N. (1789-1852); Zotov (probably R. M., 1795-1871), h i s t o r i c a l novelists. Feval, Eugene Sue, and others. In 1871-72 Alexander was steered i n the "progressive" direction by a certain Bogomolov, a merchant-landowner who supplied him with works by Darwin and a r t i c l e s by Pisarev. Alexander's friendly relations with the peasants on the estate angered his father, who believed that such relations compromised his son's authority. For this reason Alexander found himself i n the position of a go-between even from his youth, obligated as he was to maintain order on behalf of his father while acting as an advocate on his peasant friends' behalf. In 1873 Ivan Aleksandrovich found a new position for his son twenty versts from Usman' on the estate of Okhotnikov, which Alexander welcomed because i t allowed him considerable independence now that he was an assistant manager. He considered himself a man of progressive ideals, although on one occasion he did beat a b a i l i f f whom he caught sleeping on the job. With his new l i b e r t y Alexander began to frequent the town, Usman', where he encountered Maria Ivanovna Fedotova, the f i r s t woman he had ever met from an "educated c i r c l e . " Following t h e i r acquaintance, which was sustained c h i e f l y through correspondence, the two were married just before Alexander's twentieth birthday i n 1875. E r t e l was at the time, as Zasodimskii r e c a l l s , a t a l l , t h i n young man of pleasant appearance and thoughtful eyes, who impressed one as an exceptionally talented, energetic, resourceful person who did good without drawing attention to himself. Zasodimskii, a populist, admired E r t e l for his oneness with the peasants. 5 In this year E r t e l was indeed close to the people as he t r i e d his hand at two poems devoted to peasant themes: "A Night of Hay making" and "The Weather's Noisy Hum."6 In 1876 E r t e l rented a farm, which, because of a bad harvest, proved to be a disastrous move. In 1877 thei r daughter Olga was born, and two years l a t e r the Ert e l s moved to St. Petersburg, leaving t h e i r daughter behind with her grandmother. By t h i s time E r t e l ' s relationship with his wife had cooled, which he attributed to her gradual loss of interest i n reading and ideas. E r t e l sought i n t e l l e c t u a l stimulation instead from her father, a moderate s o c i a l i s t and admirer of Schopenhauer, with whom he was able to discuss art, p o l i t i c s , philosophy and ethics. The move to St. Petersburg was prompted by Zasodimskii, who invited E r t e l to manage a l i b r a r y he had recently opened. At that time E r t e l admired Zasodimskii as a great l i t e r a r y figure, although he came to regard his knowledge of the people as idealized and lacking i n common sense. Zasodimskii helped E r t e l with his l i t e r a r y debut, seeing to the publication of his essays "Pereselentsy" ("Emigrants," Russkoe obozrenie, 1878) and "Pis'mo i z Usmanskogo uyezda" ("A Letter from the uyezd of Usman'," Slovo, 1879), devoted to peasant questions. L i f e i n 5P. V. Zasodimskii, Iz vospominanii (Moscow, 1908) 439. ^These two poems appeared as "Noch na beregu Volgi" and "Gudit, shumit, pogodushka" i n Voronezhskaia literaturnaya beseda (Voronezh, 1925) 72-9. St. Petersburg, at f i r s t , was depressing, but before long E r t e l became acquainted with such writers as G. Uspenskii and N. N. Z l a t o v r a t s k i i , as well as certain "highly placed" revolutionaries. 7 While i n Petersburg Ertel's health began to deteriorate, but his l i t e r a r y career had begun, and with i t came the money which he desperately needed. Here he began to publish the sketches which would l a t e r become a part of Zapiski stepniaka (1880-83). His attitude at the time towards the revolutionaries with whom he came into contact was one of sympathy with c r i t i c a l distance: they used the l i b r a r y as a safe meeting place, and occasionally borrowed money, passed messages on through him, or simply l e f t books with him for safe keeping. In 1880 E r t e l suffered a severe pulmonary haemorrhage and was treated, at Turgenev's request, by the famous physician S. P. Botkin. Subsequently E r t e l moved back home to his mother's farm on the Griaznusha r i v e r , where his health improved, he resumed work on Zapiski, and met his future common-law wife, Maria V. Ogarkova, a merchant's daughter from Usman'. The period of 1880-85 was a low point i n E r t e l ' s l i f e . It began, as E r t e l saw i t , with his death as l i b r a r y manager and friend of Fedotov and Zasodimskii, and ended with his death as a "pessimist." During those years he was treated for tuberculosis and suffered bouts of depression "with despair i n [his] soul 7Uspenskii, G. I. (1843-1902), Z l a t o v r a t s k i i , N. N. (1845-1911), both populist writers. In his autobiographical l e t t e r to Chertkov, E r t e l does not mention by name the revolutionaries whom he had met (Pis'ma 22). because there was nothing to be done."8 He read Tolstoy's Confession i n 1882-83, but admitted that he saw l i t t l e connection between Tolstoy's world and his own. In 1883 he published "Volkhonskaia baryshnia" ("The Lady of Volkhonsk," Vestnik Evropy), "Piatikhiny d e t i " ("Piatikha's Children," Vestnik Evropy), and a play e n t i t l e d Babii bunt ("Women's Revolt," Delo). In the two stories E r t e l dealt with d i s i l l u s i o n e d populists, as i n Zapiski, and i n his play he addressed the issue of women's emancipation. In 1884 E r t e l was arrested for his association with St. Petersburg revolutionaries. While imprisoned i n the SS Peter and Paul Fortress, E r t e l was tormented by the fact that his seven year old daughter Olga had just contracted scarlet fever on the eve of his arrest (she l a t e r died of diphtheria while E r t e l was s t i l l i n prison, a fact which Fedotova withheld from E r t e l ) , by the return of symptoms of tuberculosis, and the fact that he did not know how to respond during his interrogations. On a positive note, E r t e l experienced a decisive religious conversion while i n prison. There he began seriously to consider the fact that l i f e was brief and f e l t a surge of compassion "for a l l people." His sense of rebirth was enhanced by his release from prison on medical grounds, his l i f e i n Moscow and subsequent e x i l e i n Tver', and the beginning of his common-law marriage with Ogarkova. At thi s point he ,re-read Tolstoy's Confession, read What I Believe, and met with Tolstoy 8 P i s ' m a 2 8 . "c OTMaflHHeM B ayiue, *HTO He^ero jieJiaTb." and Chertkov. In Tver' he became acquainted with V.V. Lesevich, P.F. N i k o l a e v , N.N. Ge, and P. A. Bakunin, 9 through whom he began to develop a broader philosophy, coming to a p p r e c i a t e much of T o l s t o y ' s t e a c h i n g p a r t i c u l a r l y f o r the way i n which i t showed him the e r r o r of h i s previous o p i n i o n s . In 1885 he was e l e c t e d as member of the S o c i e t y of Lovers of the Russian Word, and i n 1886 a daughter N a t a l i a ( l a t e r N a t a l i e Duddington 1 0) was born to E r t e l and Ogarkova. By the time E r t e l moved to h i s f a m i l y farm on the G r i a z n u s h a r i v e r i n the summer of 1889 he had w r i t t e n " S p e t s i a l i s t " ("The S p e c i a l i s t , " RM, 1885), M i n e r a l ' n v e vodv ("Mineral Waters," 1886, p u b l i s h e d i n 1909 i n E r t e l ' s SS) , "Zhadnyi muzhik" ("The Greedy Peasant," Posrednik, 1886), Dve pary ("Two Couples," RM, 1887), "Chervonets" ("The Gold Coin," Krasnvi tsvetok, 1889), and h i s epi c novel Gardeniny. That same summer E r t e l and Ogarkova's second daughter, Elena, was born. In 1890 E r t e l once a g a i n e x p e r i e n c e d symptoms of t u b e r c u l o s i s , which prompted him to v i s i t the Crimea w i t h Ogarkova and t h e i r c h i l d r e n . In the same year he began working on h i s second novel Smena (completed i n 1891), and r e n t e d a small farm at Empelevo. In 1893 E r t e l became acquainted with Chekhov, w i t h whom he came to be on f r i e n d l y terms, as t h e i r ^V. V. L e s e v i c h (1837-1905, p o s i t i v i s t p h i l o s o p h e r ) , P. F. Nikolaev (1844-1910, s o c i a l c r i t i c ) , N. N. Ge (1831-1894, a r t i s t and T o l s t o y a n ) , P. A. Bakunin (b. 1820, p u b l i s h e d Osnovy v e r y i z n a n i i a , S t. Pete r s b u r g , 1888; b r o t h e r of a n a r c h i s t M. A. Bakunin). •'-'-'Translator of numerous Russian c l a s s i c s of l i t e r a t u r e and philosophy. subsequent correspondence shows. V. P. Kranikhfel'd, who met E r t e l i n Voronezh during the years 1892-96, recalled E r t e l ' s "massive figure," the "cunning play of his eyes," and broad interests, which included philosophy, agriculture, l i t e r a t u r e , zemstvo administration, art and p o l i t i c s , i n a l l of which he demonstrated more than a mere passing knowledge.11 The years 1891-94, during which E r t e l helped organize famine r e l i e f , b u i l t a school nearby, and incurred great debt while continuing to manage his farm, represent a period of low l i t e r a r y output. His essay "Makar'evskoe popechitel'stvo" ("The Trusteeship of Makarevo," 1893) t e l l s of his e f f o r t s with famine r e l i e f and the building of a school, but his only work of f i c t i o n during t h i s period was "Dukhovidtsy" ("Clairvoyants," 1893). Ert e l ' s f i r s t t r i p abroad i n 1894 to London and Paris gave him part of his setting for his l a s t completed work, Kar'era Strukova ("Strukov's Career," 1895). After t h i s , his e f f o r t s were devoted almost exclusively to the running of estates owned by E.I. Chertkova and A.I. Pashkova, with occasional t r i p s abroad. David Garnett, r e c a l l i n g his v i s i t to E r t e l ' s home i n 1904 with Constance Garnett, writes that E r t e l "was a big man, rather aloof and Olympian i n manner . . . with humorous eyes and a sparse beard, wearing a blue flannel s u i t with a chalk st r i p e , polished top boots and a broad-rimmed hat. He used to walk up and down i n the flower garden i n the evening with his arm linked H v . P . Kranikhfel'd, "Provozvestnik russkoi burzhuaznoi kul'tury," V mire i d e i i obrazov, vol.3 (Petrograd, 1917) 129. i n that of Natasha, whom he r i g h t l y adored." 1 2 But his l i t e r a r y work was done: i n 1898 E r t e l l e f t unfinished his l a s t work, V sumerkakh ("At Twilight"). The reason for E r t e l ' s withdrawal from l i t e r a t u r e i s somewhat unclear. On the one hand he appears to have accepted gladly his increased managerial duties, for, as Duddington insisted, her father did not accept his new r e s p o n s i b i l i t i e s simply to get out of debt, but rather found a great deal of fulfilment i n helping to improve the quality of l i f e of the many peasants on the estates which he oversaw. 1 3 From this standpoint his t r a n s i t i o n from writer to full-time estate manager represents a r e l a t i v e l y smooth change from one form of service to another. On the other hand, based on an interview with E r t e l , K. Levin asserts that the writer had considerable material "stored up," but could not return to writing because of his burdensome obligations. 1 4 If there i s truth i n both of these views, i t appears that E r t e l was committed equally to the aesthetic and s o c i a l dimensions of his vocation. By 1904 E r t e l realized that his health was seriously worsening, and i n 1906 he moved to Moscow, from where he continued his administrative work. He died of a heart attack two years l a t e r , on February 7, 1908, confident that "our l i f e 12D. Garnett, The Golden Echo (London: Chatto and Windus, 1953) 77-8. 1 3 0 . Lasunskii, Literaturnye raskopki (Voronezh: Knizhnoe Izdatel'stvo, 1972) 173-4. 1 4K. Levin, "Pamiati A.I. E r t e l i a , " Sovremennyi mir 5 (1908), second pagination: 29-35. does not end here," and that the answer to " a l l those tormenting riddles and mysteries of human existence" 1 5 would be found i n the l i f e to come. He was buried at the Novodevichy cemetery, across from Chekhov. 1 5 P i s 'ma 398. "xa3Hb Hawa He KOHMaeTCfl 3,necb"; "pa3peujeHne ecex Tex MyMHTejibHbix 3ara,aoK H TaflH <HejiOBe<HecKoro cymecTBoeaHMfl." 21 Part One Confrontation In 1883 E r t e l was confronted with the notion that the meaning of l i f e was far from self-evident. While Tolstoy's Confession (Ispoved' . 1882) taught him that such meaning was to be found i n t u i t i v e l y , "with the heart," he could find no way to refute (as he wrote to M.V. Ogarkova on August 27, 1883) the Spencerian notion that we and our "souls" are the result of countless modifications and adaptations, no more, and i f our conduct i s honest, good, just and "holy" i t i s not because of any inherent dictates of the "soul" given us from above, but simply because we are the way we are as a result of countless adaptations. 1 E r t e l could only admit that for him "' the meaning of l i f e ' i s once again l o s t . " 2 Spencer 1s determinism had reinforced for him Schopenhauer's notion that human freedom was i l l u s o r y (an idea which he would have encountered e a r l i e r through his father-in-law) . Erte l ' s short story "Vostorgi" ("Raptures") r e f l e c t s his i n t e l l e c t u a l predicament. 3 In this miniature, Koroleva, a student, t r i e s to make sense of the delight she f e l t at an evening concert. Reading Spencer's Principles of Eth i c s , 4 and 1Pis'ma 50-1. 2pis'ma 51. "«cMbicji 5KH3HH» CHOB3 T e p f l e T c a . " 3 E r t e l ' s SS gives no date for t h i s work. trying to recapture the pleasure of the previous evening, Koroleva begins to convince herself that she must have experienced some sort of contagion i n the crowd which caused her to express her emotions rather excessively, and decides to write about the laws governing t h i s force. As he explained to Chertkov on July 13, 1888, E r t e l perceived that u n t i l 1885 he had been a novice writer ". . . with vague and b i t t e r pessimistic thoughts, t e a r f u l p i t y towards people, and despair i n his soul from the conviction that there i s nothing to be done. . . ."5 However, the b e l i e f that there was "nothing to be done" was soon confronted with another certainty. During his incarceration i n 1884 E r t e l was struck with the desire for a way beyond his dilemma and a new foundation for l i f e : Why had i t not occurred to me before that l i f e was so short and so much time was wasted on t r i f l e s and e v i l ? I remember that along with these thoughts came an unusual surge of feeling of love towards people, a strong desire to be reconciled with a l l people, forgive a l l people, and to l i v e i n peace and harmony with a l l people. . . . 6 In his l e t t e r to Tolstoy of 1 March 1885 he claimed that the l a t t e r ' s works "had illuminated the confusion which had reigned i n [his] soul," and he now wished to meet to discuss how the 4 I n the same l e t t e r to Ogarkova mentioned above, E r t e l wrote that he was reading H. Spencer's Principles of Ethics (Osnovaniia e t i k i . 1879-93). 5 P i s 'ma 28. "c MbiciiflMH neonpeaesieHHoro w CKopSworo neccHMH3M3, c xaj iocraw K JiioziflM, aoxoitfliueM iio ciie3, w c oTMaflHHGM B aywe, MTO He^iero aejiaTb. . . . " 6Pis'ma 34. ideas expressed i n What I Believe (1884) were to be worked out i n the present. 7 E r t e l ' s new conviction was that the meaning of l i f e was to be sought i n "being reconciled with a l l people," to which his collaboration with Tolstoy i n writing stories "for the people" attests. Such collaboration was, however, b r i e f . Well acquainted with r u r a l l i f e , E r t e l came to question any doctrine, whether populist or Tolstoyan, which established an agenda with regards to the peasant without an intimate knowledge of peasant concerns. Ultimately, he was more concerned to understand the i n t e l l i g e n t s i a ' s relationship with the peasant than the peasant himself. In the two chapters that follow we s h a l l examine E r t e l ' s early works as r e f l e c t i v e of his early philosophical development from the conviction that "there i s nothing to be done" to Tolstoyism, and from there, through a rejection of Tolstoy's universal c a l l to the simple l i f e , to his turn to questions re l a t i n g to individual ide n t i t y i n the c o l l e c t i v e . 7 P i s 'ma 52: "03apmiH nyTaHMU,y, rocnoiicTBOBaBUjyio B MoePi ayuie." 24 Chapter One "What i s to be Done?" "There i s Nothing to be Done:" Zapiski stepniaka Referring to Zapiski stepniaka ("Notes of a Steppe-dweller," Vestnik Evropy. 1880-83), Tolstoy wrote: "At f i r s t [Ertel] s l a v i s h l y imitated Turgenev, but s t i l l wrote very w e l l . " 1 While the d i r e c t influence of Turgenev i s not limited to the choice of t i t l e , which echoes Zapiski okhotnika (Notes of a Hunter, 1852), Er t e l ' s c o l l e c t i o n of sketches i s remarkable for the way in which i t confronts reasons for hope and despair with regards to progress. In "My acquaintance with Baturin," the introduction to Zapiski, the f i c t i o n a l editor (hereafter "editor"), a close friend of Baturin's, explains that the sketches (twenty i n a l l ) were passed on to him for publication with the request that he introduce t h e i r author and explain how Baturin came to the pessimistic conclusions expressed i n " I d i l l i i a " ("Idyll") and "Addio." 2 We learn from the editor that Baturin was a member of the gentry (although his grandmother was a peasant), single, had no qu a l i f i c a t i o n s , and was a kind person of whom his peasants took advantage. We are also t o l d that Baturin's ! R . Shokhor-Trotskii, "Dnevnik V. F. Lazurskogo," Literaturnoe nasledstvo 37-38, ed. G. N. Shevchenko (Moscow: ANSSSR, 1939) 465. " C H a ^ a j i a OH nMca j i , pa6cKH n o j i p a x a f l T y p r e H e B y , Bce -T3KH o*HeHb x o p o x o . " 2precedents for such editors are found i n Pushkin's Belkin Tales, or Lermontov's A Hero of Our Time. favourite writer was Gleb Uspenskii and his favourite poet Nekrasov. The reason for his pessimism i s stated c l e a r l y : although he f e l t attached to the " s o i l " , he was tormented by the way i n which the s o c i a l landscape had changed. In the f o r t i e s and s i x t i e s people were happy because they had hope and in t e g r i t y , but now, he lamented, one found only confusion and chaos. Despite t h i s despondency, the editor t e l l s us, Baturin did find courage from time to time to v i s i t his neighbours, make new acquaintances, t a l k about his ideas, and even get involved i n charitable a c t i v i t i e s . Towards the end of his l i f e , however, he ceased to read, and tormented himself with depressing thoughts. While abroad he f i n a l l y died of tuberculosis, ever eager to return to his native Russia. Right from the introduction, as we see, the question of populism i s raised. while d i s i l l u s i o n e d , Baturin has attached himself to the " s o i l " and the people through the influence of populist writers. Since considerable disagreement exists concerning E r t e l ' s populist sympathies, i t would be useful f i r s t , before examining the Zapiski, to discuss the ways i n which E r t e l has been understood on t h i s question. In his 1897 study of the Russian novel, Golovin describes E r t e l as a populist "to the core" for praising poverty and ignorance while demonstrating an aversion to the cultured c l a s s . 3 According to this " l i b e r a l " view, E r t e l through Baturin f a i l s to give a p o r t r a i t of authentic, t r u l y cultured 3K. F. Golovin, Russkii roman i russkoe obshchestvo (St. Petersburg: A. A. Porovshchikov, 1897) 427. "MHCTefiwePi BOi tb i " individuals. Bush, i n his 1931 study of l i t e r a r y populism, considers E r t e l a populist on somewhat different grounds: although E r t e l attempted to dissociate himself from populism by claiming that i n his stories the peasant i s gradually replaced by members of other s o c i a l classes, such as the i n t e l l i g e n t s i a , 4 Bush points out that other populists such as Uspenskii and Zla t o v r a t s k i i did likewise. He adds that E r t e l ' s Zapiski are populist not only because they are often devoted to peasant questions (such as re-settlement and land), but because E r t e l -Baturin himself i s "infected" by the peasant's bravery under harsh circumstances and begins to f e e l g u i l t for his "whining" as a member of the i n t e l l i g e n t s i a . 5 Bush and Golovin are to a certain extent correct. E r t e l did, i n fact, begin his l i t e r a r y career with the help of the populist Zasodimskii, through whom he published his essays on peasant indebtedness and forced relocation. Further, the populist "mood" which E r t e l believed was a positive force 6 can be found i n the work of the " i n t e l l i g e n t s i a ' s chronicler of despair," Gleb Uspenskii, whose works depicted "the unregenerate 4 I n his 10 August 1881 l e t t e r to Chistiakov, E r t e l wrote that "the i n t e l l i g e n t s i a [was] beginning to predominate i n [his] stories . " (Pis'ma 41). 5V.V. Bush, "A. I. E r t e l ' , " Ocherki literaturnogo narodnichestva 70-80 gg (Moscow-Leningrad: GIKhL, 1931) 97-8. 6 I n a 22 February 1891 l e t t e r to Prugavin E r t e l explained that populism as a mood was right and proper as a force, but not a teaching. "[0]ur relationship with the people i s founded not on judiciary dogma, but on the moral law l a i d down . . . by Christ. . . . " ( "[H]aWM O T H O W e H M f l K H a p O f l y B b l T e K a i O T He H3 IOpH5MMeCKOH j o r M b i , a H3 T o f l H p a B C T B e H H O f i , K O T o p a f l . . . y c T a H O B J i e H a X p n c T O M . . . . " Pis 'ma 243). r e a l i t y of Russian l i f e that defied the i n t e l l i g e n t s i a ' s urge for change,"7 while observing the misery of the peasants with sympathy. However, E r t e l came to question any dogmatic "agenda," populist or otherwise, as suggested i n his l e t t e r to A. S. Prugavin i n 1891: I think we must once and for a l l throw aside those three p i l l a r s ( t r i kita) of populism: duty, obligations and repayment..• As a doctrine, a party, a teaching, populism d e f i n i t e l y does not stand up to c r i t i c i s m . . . . 8 If authentic development was to come about, the young i n t e l l i g e n t s i a would require more than populist dogma: "Our youth . . . needs . . . to be permeated with the teachings of Christ, a clear f a m i l i a r i t y with history, and an enduring interest i n philosophy and a r t . " 9 The narrator of the Zapiski, i n any case, does not necessarily speak for E r t e l , and i n thi s regard l a t e r Soviet c r i t i c s make the same mistake as do Golovin and Bush i n drawing a necessary connection between Baturin and E r t e l . Kostin, for example, praises Ertel-Baturin's accurate depiction of the development of capitalism i n pre-revolutionary Russia, which set him against the erroneous notion (according to Marxist thought) 7R. Wortman, The C r i s i s of Russian Populism (London: Cambridge UP, 1967) 6 1 . 8Pis'ma 242-3. 9Pis'ma 298. "Hawefi MOJioaexH . . . HyxHbi , . . ocHOBaTejibHoe npoHHKHOBeHHe yneHkieM Xpncia, oT^eTJiMBoe 3H3KOMCTBO C HCTOPMeft H HeocjiaQeBaiomnft HHTepec K 0MJlOCO<t)CKMM HayKaM M HCKyCCTBy." 28 that Russia might bypass that stage. 1 0 As such, the sketches are a "study of the most important problems of [the period], the l i f e of deceived peasants, the make-up of the gentry, the growth of bourgeois society, [and] the relations between the democratic i n t e l l i g e n t s i a and the people." 1 1 They are evaluated primarily on the basis of t h e i r authenticity according to a Marxist standard, and are assumed to be of considerable a r t i s t i c merit: the influence of Turgenev i s evident, to be sure, but E r t e l adapts an old form to a new context and demonstrates s k i l l i n depicting landscapes and authentic pictures of individuals l i v i n g i n post-reform Russia such as greedy kulaks, conservative types, downtrodden peasants, and d i s i l l u s i o n e d populists. While there i s some connection between Baturin and E r t e l , who attributed the c o l l e c t i o n to his "pessimistic" period, the co l l e c t i o n of sketches i s introduced and published by a "close friend" who questions Baturin's gloom with an optimistic tone: "In what way were [the people of the 40's and 60's] happy, Nikolai V a s i l i e v i c h " , I would ask. "They were happy", he would say, "because they had f a i t h and in t e g r i t y , saw th e i r enemy c l e a r l y , and grasped th e i r ideals with th e i r hands. . . ." And i n vain I would remind him of those c r y s t a l clear ideals, and he would smile with a suppressed sadness. "Yes, they're clear," he would say, "but only i n theory and arithmetically. They're clear u n t i l l i f e obscures and fouls them." I O Q . A . Kostin, A.I. E r t e l ' : Zhizn' i tvorchestvo (Voronezh: Knizhnoe Izdatel'stvo, 1955) 26-7. H A . P. Spasibenko, A.I. E r t e l : Pisatel'-vos'midesiatnik (Alma-Ata: Nauka, 1966) 33-4. 1 2SS v o l . 1, 6. The i d e n t i f i c a t i o n of the author with either of his characters i s problematic given the fact that the l a t t e r are c l e a r l y caricatured: Baturin, as introduced by his friend, i s a restless fellow whose populist leanings have rendered him emotionally unstable, while the editor (in Baturin's eyes) i s a confused, sentimental type whose dreams are i l l u s o r y . When agitated, Baturin would even c a l l his friend "Manilov," suggesting that he had l o s t touch with the world around him l i k e the non-committal and obliging character by the same name i n Gogol's Dead Souls. A c r i t i c a l distance between E r t e l and his characters must be maintained for two other important reasons. F i r s t , i t might be said that the pessimistic tone that permeates the sketches, and with which E r t e l i d e n t i f i e d at the time, does not rest s t r i c t l y with Baturin's outlook, but with the notion that there i s "nothing to be done": i n both cases history has been determined, whether to perpetual cycles of building and destroying or to inevitable progress. The second reason has to do with the l i k e l y influence of Turgenev, who i n 1877 had published V i r g i n S o i l (Nov'), i n which he sympathetically, but c r i t i c a l l y , portrayed some young populists, while at the same time caricaturing conservative types. As references below w i l l indicate, Turgenev's influence i s not limited to the c r i t i c a l distance he kept between himself and his characters. One of the chief merits of the Zapiski, then, l i e s i n the way i n which the reader i s invited to participate not only i n the narrator's dilemma and observations, but also the quarrel between the narrator himself and the editor, or between despair and hope. By presenting Baturin and his friend as opposites, E r t e l presents just one of many such juxtapositions which can be found throughout the series, as Baturin examines, and i s compelled to confront the perplexities presented by pairs of landowners or peasants who represent opposite views or char a c t e r i s t i c s . Beside discussing i t s ideological significance, c r i t i c s have indicated areas where the series seems to f a l l short formally and s t y l i s t i c a l l y . In general, most of the episodes contain descriptions of nature that are repetitious and appear to exist only for the i r own sake. E r t e l himself was quite d i s s a t i s f i e d with the c o l l e c t i o n , as he wrote to Gol'tsev i n October 1889: "Would you believe the other day I had a look at Zapiski stepniaka. So much of i t i s unnecessary, unappealing, a r t i f i c i a l , fake and l o f t y ! " 1 3 While Soviet studies generally consider E r t e l ' s descriptive talent praiseworthy, the e a r l i e s t reception of the Zapiski affirmed the opposite. Nekrasova, for example, found the episodes pleasant when reading them separately, but nearly unbearable when published as a volume (in 1883). Any message that was to be found, she f e l t , was sa c r i f i c e d to useless descriptions of nature that became tedious and attracted attention to themselves rather than enhance the moral dimension of the story as they ought. 1 4 Before being 1 3 P i s ' m a 1 7 5 . "noBepHiiib JIH, pacKpw j i a I O K - T O Ha JIHAX «3anncKH cTe r iH f lKa» : cKOJibKO JiHiiiHGro! CKOJibKO npoTMBHoro, MCKyccTBeHHoro , (JjajibiiiMBoro, npwnojiHflToro! " introduced to the characters i n a particular episode, we f i n d that the reader i s often required to endure Baturin's lengthy survey of the landscape. In "Krivorozh'e" ("Crooked Rye"), for example, one joins Baturin on a dusty road on a dry summer day and l i s t e n s to his description of the oppressive heat, of an emaciated herd of c a t t l e , and of a s i m i l a r l y skeletal herdsman. This c l e a r l y gloomy setting, where the heat i s unbearable, the herdsman glances around i n d i f f e r e n t l y , the taverns are empty and the towns remind one of a cemetery, could be endured i f i t played a role i n the rest of the episode. instead the descriptive passage seems superfluous. in t h e i r basic structure the Zapiski are quite simple. Most episodes involve a t r i p of some sort, either from sheer boredom or for the s p e c i f i c purpose of, for example, buying a horse or s e l l i n g oats. This simple device, l i k e that of the hunt i n Turgenev's Notes of a Hunter (1852), allows Baturin to meet people, some of whom he portrays as types worthy of a certain degree of r i d i c u l e , while the rest tend to be more v i v i d and on the whole positive characters whose l i v e s for one reason or another are t r a g i c . At times Baturin i s g u i l t y of using whatever means i s necessary to enter into the l i v e s of his subjects. In " L i p i a g i , " for example, he eavesdrops i n a way that seems highly unlikely: during the night he l i s t e n s i n on the conversation of a young couple, managing to catch the de t a i l s of t h e i r conversation, gestures and actions both when 1 4 E . Nekrasova, "Zapiski stepniaka," RM 9 (1883), second pagination: 82 f f . they are outside his room as well as when they proceed outdoors and past his window. Between those, such as Nekrasova, who consider the Zapiski to be of l i t t l e value, and those who overrate them, such as the l a t e r Soviet scholars, there seems to be a middle ground. While i t i s clear that E r t e l has not yet found a way to integrate his descriptive passages into the rest of the narrative, there i s indeed a "message" i n the series (Soviet studies deserve credit for recognizing t h i s ) , and the description of nature does not dominate, as Nekrasova maintains. However, i n identifying E r t e l too closely with Baturin, Soviet c r i t i c s have overlooked the d i a l e c t i c which results from the consideration of the editor's role and have interpreted Baturin's observations with a s t r i c t l y p o l i t i c a l agenda, severely l i m i t i n g the scope of what are c l e a r l y more universal concerns i n the series. The Peasant With th i s perspective i n mind we now turn to those sketches which seem to represent best the various concerns of the early years of E r t e l ' s l i t e r a r y career. "Pod shum v ' i u g i " ("In the Blizzard") i s devoted exclusively to the sad l o t of the peasant. In t h i s f i r s t episode Baturin, on his way to the home of a certain Pankratov, i s forced to take shelter twice due to foul weather. His f i r s t stop takes him into the hut of a poor peasant family where both a mother and her baby evoke great p i t y : the child's cry seems to Baturin a profoundly sad lament, and not "the capricious whining of a spoiled baby," 1 5 while the mother's l u l l a b y seems a pathetic echo. The family i s i n such need of food that her husband G r i g o r i i i s prepared, for a fee, to guide Baturin through the storm to his destination. Baturin's second stop, again because of the blizzard, i s i n the home of a certain Andreian Semenych, a kind old man who complains that after "freedom" ( i . e . the Reforms of 1861) forced relocation had only made his situation worse because i t drove him away from his native rivers and forest. Once on the road again Baturin r e c a l l s his f i r s t love Dunia, a peasant g i r l , and imagines that a hard l i f e of work has undoubtedly stolen her beauty. He never makes i t , incidentally, to Pankratov's, but loses his way, which underscores the fact that the t r i p i s only there to give structure to his peasant concerns. 1 6 It seems worth noting that the journey, at the same time, i s not so much a progression from one place to the next as i t i s a movement from one subjective impression to another: Baturin's melancholy sets i n during his f i r s t stop by the baby's lament and the mother's lul l a b y , then increases when back on the road with his daydream of Dunia. In a l a t e r sketch, "Popleshka," Baturin i s once again on the road during stormy, windy weather. On the way he meets a certain Popleshka, through whom he learns that t h i s peasant and 1 5SS v o l . 1, 22. " K a n p M 3 H o e XHbi^raHbe H 3 6 a j i O B a H H o r o p e f i e H K a . " l^This r e c a l l s A.N. Radishchev's famous Journey from Petersburg to Moscow (1790) as a precedent for the journey for the purposes of observation. others l i k e him are ruled by the greedy parish p r i e s t and other "bloodsuckers" to whom they are indebted. They manage on very l i t t l e for th e i r sustenance, and even i f they could hope for some land i t would soon be controlled by t h e i r creditors. Baturin, i n desperation, asks Popleshka what hope he has i n l i f e , to which the l a t t e r responds only with a prayer to God for strength. Baturin then continues on his way depressed. From these two episodes we learn, on the surface, that the emancipation i n Russia had increased the peasants' burden and that those members of the i n t e l l i g e n t s i a , l i k e Baturin, with populist concerns f e l t a need to draw attention to the harsh conditions of t h e i r "brother." As we come to know Baturin, however, we r e a l i z e that his attitude towards the peasant i s somewhat ambiguous. As an i n t e l l i g e n t he has been taught to hope and work for the enlightenment of the masses, but as a landowning barin he demonstrates a certain disdain for the peasant, no doubt because peasant l i f e as he sees i t presents too many obstacles to progress. In t h i s way the reader's attention i s drawn beyond the peasant question to the narrator's own attitudes and impressions. Change This brings us to a second theme which stands out i n the Zapiski; that of "change." "Krokodil" ("Crocodile") draws attention once again to the sad l o t of the peasants, but eventually comes to focus on a reason for t h e i r suffering: a particular "bloodsucker" by the name of Sazon Psikheich, who goes by the appropriate nickname of "Crocodile." In th i s character we have a p o r t r a i t of the new kulak who, taking advantage of the Russian peasant virtue of perseverance (terpenie), lords i t over an a r t e l of carpenters who humbly work for him. Sazon's influence i s both dehumanizing and c u l t u r a l l y impoverishing: he sees to i t that the carpenters are provided with good meat, but he does th i s only because "the peasant, l i k e a horse, carries what he eats;" 1 7 i n his home Baturin arrives to hear the sound of c l a s s i c a l music, only to find that Sazon i s s i t t i n g i n the corner, d i l i g e n t l y cranking out a waltz on a mechanical piano. Sazon stands as a symbol of a changing Russia. Later, when writing his novel Smena, E r t e l would envision the change as one where members of the i n t e l l i g e n t s i a surrendered t h e i r places to "far less refined and even crude people." 1 8 One r e c a l l s , for example, Goncharov's e a r l i e r Oblomov and Chekhov's l a t e r Cherry Orchard, where more pragmatic, but less refined individuals replace the genteel old order. The transformation which E r t e l depicted was dra s t i c : the impoverished gentry was giving way to the l i k e s of "Crocodile," who might now e a s i l y devour anything wholesome that remained. In a sketch e n t i t l e d "Two Landowners" ("Dva pomeshchika") i n Notes of a Hunter, Turgenev juxtaposes a proud, s o l i t a r y and i n e f f i c i e n t farm owner named Khvalynskii with a gregarious lover 1 7SS V O l . 2, 265. "MyXHK Beab, 4T0 JlOUJaab: MTO noeCT, TO H nOB63GT. " 1 8 P i s 'ma 209. ". . . y c T y n a a CBoe MecTO HHWM, aajieKO He CTOJib yT0H4eHHbiM M i i a x e rpyGosaTbiM jncnflM." of d i s c i p l i n e named Stegunov. If i n t h i s sketch he draws attention to class change (Khvalynskii, whose name comes from the word "glory," holds on with pride to his rank but has horses who have seen better days), i n an episode i n the Zapiski with the same t i t l e E r t e l does the same. Baturin, while on a business t r i p , meets the landowner Mikhriutkin (whose name suggests the grunt of a pig) and his guest Karpetkin ("carp"). When we f i r s t encounter Mikhriutkin he i s i n his dressing gown and slippers, holding up his large stomach with his "fat l i t t l e arms," screaming at his cook for not preparing his salmon properly. Later he i s a l l dressed up as he hosts the not-so-refined Karpetkin, who i s less concerned about his appearance and has no use for Mikhriutkin's conservative g e n t i l i t y . What i s now important i s the ruble, Karpetkin believes, and one cannot move forward with sentimental readings of Dumas. Rather, one must read Uspenskii, for example, because he takes the reader into the l i f e of the- peasant, with whom one must now deal. Soviet c r i t i c s perceive Baturin-Ertel's c l a r i t y of v i s i o n here: the narrator i s pessimistic about the u t i l i t a r i a n order which i s replacing the old one only because he i s not s u f f i c i e n t l y aware of what must happen before socialism w i l l come. This, of course, does not take into account the more apparent and universal dilemma at work—that of the seemingly unbridgeable gap between personal and so c i e t a l progress. This dilemma i s evident i n the pessimistic, apocalyptic theme which links two other episodes i n which one i s given the sense that s o c i e t a l change can only be leading towards the "end of a l l things." In "Ot odnogo kornia" ("From the Same Root") the pr a c t i c a l , business-minded but insensitive V a s i l i i Mironych i s set against his opposite, the conservative peasant Trofim, who sees how degenerate his world has become and concludes that the end must be near. Similarly i n "Poslednie dni" ("The Last Days") Baturin meets a group of alcoholic monks who lament the f i l t h and freedom of the new age i n which they l i v e , thinking nostalgically of the past when there used to be order and fear. The apocalyptic theme i n these episodes i s predictable, just as the end of the world i s often predicted whenever society i s perceived to be on the brink of something new. Those characters i n the Zapiski who represent such visions are not ent i r e l y admirable, however, since they at best demonstrate the virtue of longsuffering which renders them conservative and incapable of personal i n i t i a t i v e . Types The hope i n some form of progress i s i m p l i c i t i n Baturin's "correction through r i d i c u l e , " which he directs towards both " l i b e r a l " and "conservative" types whom he s a t i r i z e s i n many of his sketches. In "Barin Listarka" ("Listarka the Barin") we meet Aristarkh Teterkin, a r e t i r e d clerk of the second guild whom the peasants humour with the t i t l e "Barin" Listarka for his pomposity. This would-be aristocrat longs for the good-old-days when there was plenty, masters could punish t h e i r servants properly, and when there was a "real" gentry whose members attended church services and were respected. Baturin pokes fun at t h i s neighbour, whom he v i s i t s out of sheer boredom, by pointing out that Listarka i s fooling only himself when, for example, he c a l l s his balcony a porch or i n s i s t s that the peasants remove t h e i r hats i n his presence. In " I d i l l i i a " ("Idyll") we meet another conservative type who i s s i m i l a r l y given special treatment by the peasants. Gergomen Pozharskii i s a state councillor who believes i n the t r a d i t i o n a l master-servant relationship which i s held together by a bond of goodwill. As a staunch conservative he i s opposed to a l l doctors for the i r supposed n i h i l i s m and lack of fear of God, and believes that sickness i s part of God 's w i l l i n any case. Whereas Baturin sees the people as unenlightened, Pozharskii sees them as happy and f u l l of goodness. To v e r i f y t h i s optimistic view, Baturin takes a t r i p to the town where Pozharskii i s welcomed with honour and a spread table only to find drunkenness and a mob frenzied with excitement over some th i e f . In "Zholtikov" we are introduced to Protas Zakharych, a merchant who believes that the present plague i s not from God, but the fau l t of the peasants. For such a view, along with his conviction that the gentry has l o s t i t s sense of duty, he i s regarded as a " l i b e r a l " and a freemason by the conservatives. While many things f i l l him with a sense of helplessness, such as f i r e s , the famine, the diphtheria epidemic, the i n e f f i c i e n c y of the schools, and the lack of i n t e l l e c t u a l l i f e , one thing gives him hope: the beli e f i n freedom of conscience and r e l i g i o n . He i s inconsistent i n character, however, for he hoards money and gives l i t t l e to those i n need; to his death Protas Zakharych remains a gloomy pessimist. In "Inostranets Lipatka i pomeshchik Gudelkin" ("Lipatka the Foreigner and Gudelkin the Landowner") Baturin demonstrates through two "westernizers" that wealth w i l l not make Russia a better country. I r i n e i Gudelkin i s a tidy, modest man who becomes convinced one day that Russia's hope i s i n the enlightenment of i t s peasants. He admires Lipatka, an anglicized Russian, for his home with a l l i t s signs of enlightenment: paintings from Europe, sculpture, and business telegrams lying about. Under Lipatka's influence Gudelkin comes to believe that culture w i l l f l o u r i s h when wealth i s produced, for a better l i f e w i l l promote goodwill, which w i l l i n turn bring about art. Unfortunately, he learns that he i s being used by Lipatka, who i s more eager to become wealthy than anything else. For a l l his naivete, at the heart of Gudelkin's desire to see Russia become cultured i s a genuine humanitarian concern, for after he learns the ways of the li k e s of Lipatka he opens a charitable dining room for needy peasants. Such genuine, i f youthful, enthusiasm Baturin portrays also i n Liuba, a young populist i n " L i p i a g i , " whom he meets on the estate of her parents, Mark Nikolaevich Obozinskii and his wife Inna Iur'evna. Liuba i s engaged to a certain Karamyshev, whom she scolds for elevating Goethe above Nekrasov (who stands up for the people), but i s i n love with the populist Lebednik, with whom she wants to seek the "real " salvation of the people. These "types," whether deserving of r i d i c u l e or sympathy, are i n the end unsatisfactory characters for Baturin because they do not know the peasant well enough. Those who idea l i z e the peasant, l i k e Pozharskii, belong to a different time and are thus anachronisms; and those who presume to know the peasant and his concerns are equally inauthentic for viewing him as an un c i v i l i z e d savage. Here Baturin, perhaps, even indulges i n a certain amount of s e l f - c r i t i c i s m . Despair For a l l the "correction through r i d i c u l e " which Baturin employs, he offers no positive individuals. In fact, as one approaches the end of the c o l l e c t i o n of sketches one i s convinced that Baturin has given i n decisively to despair. In "Moi domochadtsy" ("My Servants") Baturin depicts his v i s i o n of the eternal struggle between passivity and aggression i n the persons of Semen and Naum: Semen i s a gentle, reserved man who has learned from l i f e that one must suffer, endure and hope as long as God tolerates human sinfulness. Human suffering he sees as the suffering of God himself, who, i n the words of Tiutchev, "under the weight of the cross walked up and down blessing the land of longsuffering." His weakness stems from his strengths: his fear of God causes him to fear authority even when he has the right to approach that authority, and his s e n s i t i v i t y makes him a poor overseer. In his passive acceptance of authority Semen resembles Kalinych i n Turgenev's "Khor i Kalinych" ("Khor and Kalinych," Notes of a Hunter), who humbly submits to his e f f i c i e n t master Khor. Naum, on the other hand, i s an orderly, unhurried man who loves to ta l k at great length, tolerates no objections, beats women, and sees the sunset (with complete lack of contemplation) as something created by God to t e l l of the next day's weather. We have noted that passages describing nature tend to have l i t t l e or no role i n the sketches. In "Serafim Ezhikov," however, we have an exception. In thi s episode Baturin describes a storm which the peasants c a l l "the devil's wedding" because i n i t s i n d i f f e r e n t , almost capricious way, i t i s beyond control. He introduces Serafim Leskovskii, a populist teacher whose circumstances are not unlike the weather and who i s bound up very closely with the theme of fatalism. A "romantic" at this point, Leskovskii appreciates everything that contains the "people's s p i r i t " (Nekrasov's and Kol'tsov's work) and has f a i t h i n the i n t e l l i g e n t s i a ' s a b i l i t y to enlighten the masses, i f only gradually. In c a l l i n g Leskovskii a romantic, Baturin, who otherwise regards him as a positive character, questions the populist hope i n humanity. Similarly i n "Ofitsersha" ("The Officer's Wife"), which E r t e l considered his favourite sketch i n the Z a p i s k i . 1 9 Baturin 1 9See Letter to Chertkov, 25 July 1888 (Pis'ma 71). describes with considerable admiration a woman who believed that Russia's salvation would come about when the masses had learned to read. With a great sense of good w i l l she took i t upon herself to teach the peasants to read. One day, however, Baturin learns that she had committed suicide, leaving a note i n which she states that she found no reason to carry on with l i f e and her e f f o r t s , since learning was being used for e v i l purposes. She complained that when children read the story of Nikolai the miracle worker they missed the humanitarian message and instead took from i t a message about finances. In "Addio," a c o l l e c t i o n of f i c t i o n a l diary entries with which Zapiski concludes, Baturin reveals the extent to which he has been "infected" with the despair he has observed. Not only does he learn that Serafim Leskovskii has committed suicide, but that he himself i s i l l , and that nature seems to be reminding him of his own mortality as he observes her "death" i n late winter. Thoughts of going abroad excite him temporarily, but the sound of Schubert's "Addio," played by Baturin's v i s i t i n g aunt, depresses him once again. "Like many," he consoles himself, "I pray for eternal oblivion, r e c o n c i l i a t i o n and peace, and eagerly await death and the mysterious prospect of turning into nothing," 2 0 and r e c a l l s the sense of belonging when, as a boy, he stood i n church among the worshippers as they solemnly passed candles along. His upcoming t r i p to France w i l l provide 2 0SS v o l . 2, 281. "S\, nojioBHO MHOHMM, MOJIIO O BeMHOM 3a6eeHHH, BeMHOM npHMHp 6HHM, B64H0M flOKOe, M X5ZHQ XAy l4apHU,bl- CMepTH H TaHHCTBGHHOH nepcneKTMBbi npeBpamem-ifl B HH*HTO." only temporary r e l i e f , for his depression drives him to drink and to i n s u l t his servants before his departure; moreover he hopes to return home someday to meet up with his reader again and together "curse the days gone by." 2 1 To conclude, the Zapiski are not primarily, as Spasibenko suggests, a sociological study. The structural feature of polarization contained i n them speaks of a concern which goes beyond mere "landscape" writing (where E r t e l demonstrates his c r a f t by being "true to l i f e " i n his depiction of the r i s e of capitalism). We have observed throughout, underlying the Baturin vs. Editor dilemma, a juxtaposition of opposites: passive, patient peasants who are challenged by the new "bloodsucking," e f f i c i e n t types, while well-bred and conservative members of the gentry are being replaced by populist-leaning, and far more p r a c t i c a l but less refined individuals. The change i n society which causes Baturin to r e f l e c t on these pairs of opposites i s not to be understood as a mere class struggle, but as a force which obliges one to assess the j u s t i f i c a t i o n for hope or despair i n r e l a t i o n to humanity and progress. As Hegelian optimism was challenged by Schopenhauer's pessimism i n Ertel's philosophical development, so too i n his Zapiski a pair of opposed certain t i e s come into c o n f l i c t . On the one hand one i s faced with the editor's optimism (and to a lesser extent Baturin's naive hope that one day he might return to Russia to "curse the days gone by" with 2 1SS v o l . 2, 299. "npooflHeM M H H y B i u n e B p e M e H a . " 44 his reader), while on the other one must contend with the powerful and universal images of death, decay and degeneration, r e l i e f from which one might fi n d f i n a l l y i n nothingness. 45 The Quest for Brotherhood: Two Stories on Greed If Zapiski reveal E r t e l ' s indebtedness to Turgenev, the second stage of Ert e l ' s l i t e r a r y apprenticeship was brought about under Tolstoy's influence. If Tolstoy's writings had "illuminated the confusion i n his s o u l , " 2 2 then for E r t e l too the Kingdom of God was to be regarded as a present r e a l i t y . In thi s sense his stories on greed, examined below, engage the Russia question only i n d i r e c t l y , for "what was to be done" about greed seemed clear: promote brotherhood so that the Kingdom of God could be revealed. As E r t e l would l a t e r see i t , Tolstoy had no patience for a Kingdom of God which was to be realized i n the future; rather, he expected "cataclysmic" change i n human hearts i n order to reveal the Kingdom which was "within." In a l e t t e r of September, 1885, Tolstoy encouraged E r t e l to write a story "keeping i n mind only a member of the narod as [his] reader." 2 3 In the same year that Tolstoy published "How Much Land Does a Man Need?" and other stories for the narod, E r t e l published " S p e t s i a l i s t " ("The Sp e c i a l i s t , " RM, 1885), the f i r s t of his stories on greed. Greeted by Golt'sev i n June 1885 as a story written "with great a r t i s t i c t a c t , " 2 4 " S p e t s i a l i s t " i s the st r u c t u r a l l y very 2 2 P i s 'ma 52. " 0 3 a p n j i H nyTaHwuy, r o c n o a c T B O B a B i u y i o B Moen syuie." 2 3L.N. Tolstoy, Perepiska s russkimi pisateliami, v o l . 2 (Moscow: GIKhL, 1978) 185. "HMefl B B M j y TOJibKO 4HTaT6Ji f l H3 Hapoaa." 2 4A. A. Kizevetter, ed., Pamiati Gol'tseva (Moscow, 1910) 140. " C 6 0 J l b l l J M M Xy j IOXeCTBeHHbIM T3KT0M. " simple story of Kapliuzhnyi's capture of an important criminal Fetiuk 2 5 and subsequent promotion. E r t e l begins the story with the attention-getting "On November 12th Yegor Petrovich Kapliuzhnyi came home late from work,"26 and makes his descriptive passages unusually brief and simple: "The night was dark and damp. . . . Pious townspeople's icon lamps glimmered i n the windows."27 The story's intent i s didactic: Kapliuzhnyi's wife i s interested only i n material wealth, Kapliuzhnyi himself i n prestige, and w i l l use whatever brutal means he needs to achieve that end. The story's simplicity can be deceptive, however. To begin with, Kapliuzhnyi has a gentle side. By playing on the fl o o r with his daughter and making a l l sorts of animal sounds, Kapliuzhnyi not only delights his l i t t l e g i r l , but eases some of the tension between himself and his mother-in-law. Yet his public l i f e enters his home only i n a distorted way, either through playful threats with his daughter ("Zakharov, take Gal'ka to the p o l i c e - s t a t i o n " 2 8 ) , or b i t s of police news l i k e suicides and tragic accidents which his wife can only acknowledge with a mumble, as she "chewed on a sugared 2 5 I n his footnote to chapter four of Dead Souls, Gogol says th i s i s an i n s u l t i n g term. 2 6SS v o l . 7, 5 1 5 . "12 H0fl6pfl E ropb ffleTpoBHH KaruiioxHbift no3jiHO npmueji co cnyxGbi," 2 7SS v o l . 7, 5 2 5 . "HoMb 6biJia TeMHafl M cbipaa. . . . B OKHax Mepu.ajiH jiaMnajiKH SjiaroMecTHBbix o6biBaTejieH," 2 8SS v o l . 7, p. 5 1 6 . "3axapoB, CBejiM TajibKy B ynacTOK," b i s c u i t . " 2 9 Like "Colonel B" i n Tolstoy's "After the B a l l " ("Posle bala," 1903), Kapliuzhnyi has to lead two separate l i v e s : one whose o f f i c i a l r e s p o n s i b i l i t i e s require i n s e n s i t i v i t y , and a private l i f e which requires tenderness. Further, while greed and violence are deplored, the message against the Church's close connection with the state i s drawn i n somewhat more subtly. At home, where the Kapliuzhnyi couple i s enveloped i n the purely material and temporal concerns that a promotion would bring, icon lamps burn and father gently makes the sign of the cross on his daughter's forehead as she sleeps. Similarly, Kapliuzhnyi's violence enjoys the "blessing" of heaven: he manages to subdue (after shooting and beating) a wanted murderer because "[h]eaven, i t seemed, decided to take the side of jus t i c e : the clouds dispersed and the dense darkness l i f t e d s l i g h t l y " 3 0 so that he could make out the murderer's figure i n the distance. The i n a b i l i t y of the Church to be a voice of conscience to the state, reflected i n Kapliuzhnyi's i n a b i l i t y to integrate his private and public l i v e s , i s made clearer s t i l l by the problem of anti-semitism. Set against the backdrop of pogroms, "S p e t s i a l i s t " raises the Jewish question as a serious problem. As Kapliuzhnyi relates his police news to his wife he mentions that i t was "only a Jew" who committed suicide, and i n his capture of the murderer, who had grown wealthy during the recent 2 9SS v o l . 7, 518. "nepexeBbiBaa caxapHb i f i KpeHtfejieK." 3 0SS v o l . 7, 526. " H e 6 o SyztTO pewmiocb coaeHCTBOBaTb npaBOcyztHio: jym pa3opBajincb M rycTOfl MpaK HecKOJibKO paccef l j ica ." pogrom, Kapliuzhnyi employed "a d i r t y Jew" Myseika as a spy and guide. In dealing with t h i s theme, E r t e l was joining with those who advocated toleration for the Jews. In the following year (1886) Leskov would publish a story devoted to the issue, "The Tale of Theodore the Christian and his friend Abraham the Jew" ("Povesf o Fedore-khristianine i druge ego Abrame-zhidovine"). E r t e l ends the story with two challenges to Kapliuzhnyi' s conscience. Returning home after his successful night on the job he goes to his daughter, who i s asleep, and makes the sign of the cross over her forehead. As he does so he realizes his fingers ache, then examining his hands i n the l i g h t he sees how grazed his knuckles are from the blows he i n f l i c t e d on the murderer. Then, as he sleeps that night Fetiuk appears before him, helpless and with his face disfigured by beating. By "forcing" Kapliuzhnyi's two worlds to meet, E r t e l underlines the suggestion that Kapliuzhnyi's f a i t h , o s s i f i e d into mere r i t u a l , has nothing to say to his greed for money and power, nor does i t stand i n the way of the violence which he must i n f l i c t to achieve those ends. "Zhadnyi muzhik" ("The Greedy Peasant," Posrednik, 1886), likewise simple i n structure, i s the story of a prodigal son i n which a younger brother forsakes his v i l l a g e i n search of the good l i f e , comes to lose everything he has acquired, and i s then welcomed home and forgiven. The tale begins i n the 1850's i n the province of Orel, where an older brother Ivan finds employment for his younger brother Ermil with a wealthy merchant. At f i r s t Ermil finds disturbing the fact that the sole purpose of the trade i s to make as great a p r o f i t as possible, but soon he realizes that he wishes to become r i c h . A summer v i s i t to the v i l l a g e l e t s him know that he i s no longer one with his people, as he experiences no joy i n the prospects of a good harvest nor i n the peasants' f e s t i v i t i e s . Ermil then learns to read and write so as to make a p r o f i t for himself with his master's goods. One day as his master sleeps Ermil steals some money from his coat, only to wake him up and cause him to have a choking f i t which ends his l i f e . Ermil i s not found g u i l t y of any crime, however, as the dealer had died of a stroke and his f i n a n c i a l records were inaccurate. With his money invested safely Ermil could enjoy the kind of l i f e his master had. He attends church f a i t h f u l l y , watches his money increase, and fathers two children. Eventually this l i f e becomes d u l l , and misfortune s t r i k e s . His wife and one of his sons die, his bank f a i l s , his other son steals from him, and he can find no help. Eventually Ermil i s brought home by his brother, who helps him to find the simplicity he had l o s t and the gradual acceptance and forgiveness of the community. Ermil comes to die i n peace, having made a public confession of his sins. As i n " S p e t s i a l i s t , " E r t e l draws attention to the protagonist's f a i l u r e to integrate his private and public l i v e s . In t h i s case Ermil's devotional l i f e once he i s wealthy does not moderate his pursuit of wealth. Only when tragedy strikes his home does the icon of the Saviour i n his home seem to speak to him, so that Ermil i s moved to tears as he imagines that "Christ looks upon him severely and sorrowfully." 3 1 Just as with Kapliuzhnyi, whose conscience was s t i r r e d as he performed a r i t u a l with an aching hand, Ermil's icon comes to l i f e for him in his moment of g r i e f . The intent of "Zhadnyi muzhik" i s c l e a r l y didactic. Unlike those unresolved polar opposites i n "From the Same Root," (in Zapiski), the conservative Ivan i n "Zhadnyi muzhik" i s the vi c t o r for having the moral strength to welcome his prodigal brother home. Kostin, from a different standpoint, perceives the teaching against the exploitation of the working class to be the authentic one, and argues that the story i s no longer "from l i f e " when Ermil repents and i s forgiven because the narod, forced to struggle rather than forgive, simply did not "take comfort i n sermons."32 Considering the fact that the story was intended for publication by Posrednik (whose mission i t was to publish largely didactic works for the popular reader), one might argue that, whether Ermil's welcome home was "from l i f e " or not, E r t e l ' s primary concern was to suggest how the community ought to deal with repentant prodigals, and to teach about the dangers of a l i f e l i v e d purely for oneself by having Ermil received back into a simple, God-fearing, and forgiving community. 3 1 S S v o l . 4 , 4 2 9 . "rjiflaHT Ha H e r o XPHCTOC d p o r o , Ha cMypHO . " 3 2 G . A . Kostin, A . I. E r t e l ' : zhizn' i tvorchestvo 3 9 . E r t e l ' s two stories on greed, i n conclusion, are inspired by Tolstoy's l a t e r philosophy. E r t e l would have been familiar with, and perhaps discussed with Tolstoy, the ideas contained i n "What Then Must We Do?" ("Tak chto zhe nam delat'"), not published u n t i l 1886, but on which Tolstoy had been working since 1882.33 Central to Tolstoy's work were the notions that property and money were the source of a l l e v i l , that the authentic l i f e was to be found i n a healthy simple and r u r a l l i f e , away from the excesses and corruption of the c i t y , and that the i n s t i t u t i o n s of Church and State protected the interests of the oppressor. Not only do E r t e l ' s stories uphold these ideas, but i n t h e i r simplicity of structure and allusions to b i b l i c a l stories (as i n the case of "Zhadnyi muzhik") they stand as models of what Tolstoy was to uphold e x p l i c i t l y as "universal" art i n What i s Art? (Chto takoe iskusstvo?, 1898). 33see N. K. Gudzii's notes on the essay i n Tolstoy's PSS v o l . 25 (Moscow: Khudozhestvennaia Literatura) 740ff. Chapter Two The Individual i n the Collective Contra Tolstoy: Dve pary While Ertel*s two stories on greed were straightforward, didactic, and i n l i n e with the objectives of Posrednik, he never became a Tolstoyan. Even when Tolstoy advised him to write for the peasant reader, E r t e l had explained his misgivings, i n a l e t t e r of 24 September 1885, on the grounds that he would have to do away with descriptive passages, monologues and discussions, and adopt a didactic stance, which he did not l i k e to do. As he admitted i n the same l e t t e r , he was trying to "enter l i f e , and not look at i t from outside." 1 This concern was connected with his e a r l i e r desire to "remember the i n t e l l i g e n t too," as he wrote i n 1881, and to understand "the tragic nature of [the i n t e l l i g e n t s i a ' s ] relationship with the people. . . ."2 In 1886 E r t e l wrote "Mineral'nye vody" ("Mineral Waters," published i n SS), the story of how a young i n t e l l i g e n t named Shigaev comes to re a l i z e , on a t r i p to a spa, that he i s u n f i t to "join the crowd . . . [and] take part i n s o c i a l concerns." 3 i p i s 'ma 55. "CTapa iocb CHOB3 B T e p e T b c a B xn3Hb, MTo6bi He CMOTpeTb Ha Hee c o CTOpOHbl." 2pis 'ma 41 (to Chistiakov, M.N., 10 August 1881). "BcnoMHMTb H 06 , MHTejiJiHreHTHOM n e j i o B e K e . . , H T parw-iecKHPi x a p a i a e p ee OTHOuieHMH K Hapoziy. . . . " 3SS v o l . 3, 193. "BMemaTbCA B TOJiny . . . [ H ] noHecTH oEimnx 3a6cnv* As Nikiforov notes, the story i s structured to is o l a t e the hero and to distinguish him from a l l the other characters. 4 As he encounters pessimists, populists, moralizers and sybarites, Shigaev i s d i s i l l u s i o n e d by them a l l , for he finds t h e i r l i v e s dreary and f u l l of f u t i l e pursuits. E r t e l was seeking a hero who had his own voice. As E r t e l would explain to Chistiakov on August 3, 1889, i f "the drowning of one's I i n the common l i f e " was to be made normative, then l i f e would be robbed of i t s charm. He compared the role of the individual to that of an instrument i n an orchestra, whose task i t was to play i t s own part. 5 If with "Mineral'nye vody" E r t e l turned his attention to the predicament of the individual i n the group, i n Dve pary ("Two Couples," RM, 1887) he challenged a Tolstoyan p r i n c i p l e i n the interests of the individual. While the influence of Tolstoy i s to be found i n certain allusions and structural s i m i l a r i t i e s to Anna Karenina. a polemical intent indicates that he began to question his "teacher" not long after he had turned to him for advice, and s p e c i f i c a l l y to assert that individuals had to determine t h e i r own vocation, for (as he would l a t e r write) to assume that the authentic inner l i f e was to be necessarily expressed i n particular and pre-determined forms was "utter pretension." 6 4v. V. Nikiforov, "Tvorchestvo A.I. E r t e l i a : k peresmotru istoricheskogo-literaturnogo znacheniia," Thesis, Moscow SU, 1983, 46ff. 5 P i s 'ma 157. "noTonHTb CBoe a B X H 3 H H oSmero." Dve pary, set i n Samara, where E r t e l had once gone for treatment, i s the story of one populist-minded landowning couple which seeks, and f a i l s , to arrange the l i f e and happiness of a peasant couple. S t y l i s t i c a l l y the story represents a middle way between the descriptive, Turgenevan Notes of a Steppe-dweller and the more simple and unadorned stories on greed. In Dve pary Er t e l ' s descriptive passages are b r i e f , and incorporated rather more (than i n Zapiski) into the narrative. At the same time he never strays for long from his story. The work s i m i l a r l y avoids the two poles of blunt didacticism and description for i t s own sake; now the influence of Tolstoy's great novels i s evident, while the tendency to instruct i s transformed into a need to polemicize against him. The result i s a story which contains a teaching on the simple l i f e where E r t e l c l e a r l y questions the universality of the c a l l . For an example of E r t e l ' s s t y l i s t i c v i a media we can turn to the beginning of the t a l e , where the peasant couple, Fedor and Lizutka, are alone outside and surrounded with a sense of pleasant v i t a l i t y : the roosters have crowed announcing the morning, the fresh scent of the spring grass i s i n the a i r , and one can hear the neighing of a horse. Fedor i s not only i n love: after Lizutka has freed herself from his embrace and invited him to v i s i t , Fedor s i t s down i n the cool wet grass, surveys the sunrise, and feels his youth and strength. In t h i s contented state, as his "soul was f i l l e d more and more with a feeling of peaceful happiness," 7 Fedor contemplates the landscape, and how everything around prepares to greet the sunrise: a bird f l u t t e r s , the steppe and the f i e l d s begin to redden, the crosses on the wooden church i n the distance g l i t t e r , and the mist seems to be the breath of the earth which i s awakening a l l around him. 8 The "romantic" connection between Fedor's renewed, freshly-perceived, world and his inner state i s obvious. Although such a descriptive passage does not exist for i t s own sake, i t i s s t i l l sustained enough to suggest that E r t e l was not addressing the people, but the i n t e l l i g e n t s i a , whose concerns he had begun to address i n Zapiski. No longer l i m i t i n g himself to the formulaic constraints of his stories on greed, E r t e l weaves together two love intrigues, complicating an otherwise straightforward plot, even incorporating sustained discourse into the dialogue. The "weaving" i s characteristic of Tolstoy's Anna Karenina. 9 In fact, the love stories i n Dve pary are a sort of s o c i a l downsizing of those i n Tolstoy's novel, which i n an early draft was e n t i t l e d Dva braka ("Two Marriages"). 1 0 Once we have 6Pis'ma 202. 7SS v o l . 4, 10. "kl Ha aywe y *eaopa Bee u inpe H lunpe p o c j i o cnoKoftHofi p a a o c T M . " 8SS v o l . 4, 9-10. 9B. L. Bessonov draws attention not only to this structural s i m i l a r i t y , but points to examples of Tolstoyan "repetitions and intonation" i n Ertel's Dve pary. "A.I. E r t e l * i Lev Tolstoy," Russkaia Literatura 4 (1969): 153. been introduced to the peasant couple (who r e f l e c t the "wholesome" Kitty-Levin relationship), we meet Vronskii's counterpart, Sergei Petrovich, who i s also i n love. A guest i n Samara i s Maria Pavlovna Letia t i n a , who longs for the simple l i f e and imagines that Sergei Petrovich's country l i f e s t y l e and devotion to work and schools w i l l s u i t her far better than the oppressive St. Petersburg society to which her husband i s attached. Unlike the Karenin marriage, however, the L e t i a t i n relationship was open-ended from the s t a r t . According to the progressive ideas of the 1860's, the couple agreed to separate i f one should ever cease to love the other. Maria Pavlovna had admired and agreed to marry L e t i a t i n , an enlightened, "bathed i n cologne" banker for his reasoned outlook on l i f e , and brought up t h e i r son Kolia according to the customs of the society to which they belonged. It was not too long before t h i s l i f e s t y l e became tormenting for Maria Pavlovna, so she sought r e l i e f i n various philanthropic a c t i v i t i e s , l i t e r a r y salons, high-society Evangelical c i r c l e s with Lord Radstock's preaching, and even by taking part i n seances. Needless to say, t h i s new direction was perceived by her husband as a nervous disorder, and soon the Letiatins were at a spa on a doctor's recommendation. Once i n Samara, however, L e t i a t i n longs for his orderly, progressive Petersburg l i f e , while his wife i s determined to stay. An argument between Sergei Petrovich and L e t i a t i n , i n which Maria Pavlovna sides with the former and his presumed love of the 1 0 T o l s t o y , PSS v o l . 20, 92. simple country l i f e , hastens Letiatin's return to Petersburg, leaving Maria Pavlovna and Sergei Petrovich to pursue t h e i r relationship. At this point further p a r a l l e l s with Tolstoy's novel, i f not his biography, become prominent. These include Maria Pavlovna's v i s i t to Samara for health reasons, where Tolstoy took kumys treatment i n 1871,11 and (alluding to Anna Karenina) the s l i g h t i n g reference to L e t i a t i n as a banker, the problem of an only son, references to philanthropic societies and Lord Radstock's evangelistic services i n St. Petersburg, 1 2 and indeed the non-judgmental portrayal of adultery. In response to Chertkov, who had evidently c r i t i c i z e d E r t e l for his sympathetic portrayal of an "adultress," E r t e l explained that her divorce was j u s t i f i e d on the grounds that L e t i a t i n was a "rational animal," and that the two had not been equals. 1 3 Maria Pavlovna, i n any case, j u s t i f i e d her separation with her new-found r e l i e f and sense of purpose with regards to the people. She contented herself with summer v i s i t s from her son and the pleasures of the simple l i f e : the fresh country a i r and haymaking with Sergei Petrovich. In the meantime Lizutka and Fedor's love has progressed, and for a moment i t seems as though the two couples w i l l be H c . J . G . Turner, A Karenina Companion. (Waterloo: W i l f r i d Laurier UP, 1993) 3. 1 2While the reference to Evangelical c i r c l e s i s made only i n passing here, i n chapter four on Smena the connection w i l l be more s i g n i f i c a n t . 1 3Pis'ma 99. brought together i n a proper, harmonious simple l i f e once Sergei P e t r o y i c h i s s u c c e s s f u l as Fedor's matchmaker. Fedor and L i z u t k a ' s l o v e i s soon c o m p l i c a t e d , however, by the good i n t e n t i o n s of Maria Pavlovna, who wishes to grow c l o s e r to the people, and those of S e r g e i P e t r o v i c h , who i s eager to see the young l o v e r s p r o p e r l y e s t a b l i s h e d w i t h la n d of t h e i r own. So Maria Pavlovna, r e c o g n i z i n g that her "soul had not gone on f i r e with love f o r [the people] because t h e i r faces, dress, language and customs were f o r e i g n to h e r , " 1 4 decides to host L i z u t k a and her f r i e n d D a r i a f o r tea. T h e i r v i s i t proves a comical d i s a s t e r where n e i t h e r p a r t y i s e n t i r e l y at f a u l t : The g i r l s entered [the small room next to Maria Pavlovna's boudoir] . . . s m i l i n g at one another, urg i n g one another on, then stopping i n embarrassment once i n s i d e . "Greetings, my dear guests!," s a i d Maria Pavlovna, red as can be, as she h u r l e d h e r s e l f towards them. Then, t h i n k i n g f o r a moment about what she should do, she embraced the f i r s t g i r l , not n o t i c i n g whether i t was L i z u t k a or Daria, and k i s s e d her somewhere on the upper p a r t of the face; she was more s u c c e s s f u l with the other g i r l : she k i s s e d her r i g h t on the l i p s . 1 5 Managing to get her abashed and unusually over-dressed guests to s i t f o r tea, Maria Pavlovna has to endure the g i r l s ' constant expressions of g r a t i t u d e , which L i z u t k a and D a r i a f e e l o b l i g e d to u t t e r a f t e r g u l p i n g down every cup of t e a . With an empty samovar, l i t t l e to d i s c u s s , and the disappointment t h a t the 1 4 s s v o l . 4, 6 7 . " H O ziyiua ee He 3aropa;iacb xa;iocTbD M /iioBoBbio K H U M , nOTOMy MTO MX JlklU,a, MX KOCTDMbl , A3blK M o 6 b N a n 6bl/lk1 CWUJK0M MyX/Ibl e F i . " 1 5 S S v o l . 4, 69ff. g i r l s seem so much more pleasant i n t h e i r own environment, Maria Pavlovna asks the g i r l s to s i n g . The v i s i t becomes a l l the more awkward, however, because L i z u t k a and D a r i a begin to whisper to one another, g i g g l e , and cover t h e i r faces with t h e i r shawls as each urges the other to begin. F i n a l l y they produce, or r a t h e r "squeal" ( v i z z h a l i ) some "wild nonsense" (dikuiu cheoukhu) about "'Poleon" i n Moscow, much to Maria Pavlovna's d i s t r e s s : What [she] had heard before . . . she had enjoyed so much and had almost always moved her s o u l ; but she had never heard f o l k songs from such a c l o s e range... And, my God, what s o r t of song was t h i s ! 1 6 S e r g e i P e t r o v i c h ' s e f f o r t s are more focused on a r r a n g i n g Fedor and L i z u t k a ' s marriage and m a t e r i a l s e c u r i t y . But i n t h i s he assumes that h i s g e n e r o s i t y i s p e r c e i v e d as such by those he wishes to favour. He manages to convince L i z u t k a ' s parents that she should marry Fedor now that the two w i l l have lan d of t h e i r own, but L i z u t k a ' s parents r e g r e t that t h ings are not arranged a c c o r d i n g to proper customs, and that they have not even met Fedor' s f a m i l y . In the meantime, a much more meek Fedor (on account of h i s indebtedness) has been persuaded not to accept the land, and Sergei P e t r o v i c h ' s p l a n i s ruined, causing him to c a l l the peasants "savages" and curse h i s p h i l a n t h r o p y . So w i t h t h e i r e f f o r t s s p o i l e d , S e r g e i P e t r o v i c h and Maria Pavlovna f i n d l e s s appeal i n the simple l i f e , and take up chess and cards, reading "so c a l l e d c l a s s i c s " without d i s c u s s i n g them, and f r e q u e n t l y seeking refuge i n Moscow. In t h i s way the two 1 6 S S v o l . 4, 72. couples, rather than being drawn together, are worse off than at the start, where we at least observed that Sergei Petrovich was somewhat successful i n overcoming the s o c i a l barriers that existed between him and Fedor. L. E. Obolenskii, editor of Russkoe bogatstvo from 1882 to 1892 (when the journal was sympathetic towards Tolstoyan philosophy), reads Sergei Petrovich's e f f o r t s as signs of the i n t e l l i g e n t s i a ' s " l i b e r a l " leanings and i n a b i l i t y to perform authentic actions, and severely judges his moral i n t e g r i t y for his compromise.17 Where Obolenskii under-rates Sergei Petrovich, he over-rates Maria Pavlovna, suggesting with hope that she might s t i l l f i n d the true simple l i f e she seeks. On both counts Obolenskii misreads E r t e l : while Maria Pavlovna's divorce might be j u s t i f i e d , she i s portrayed as one whose lack of "balance [in her] s o u l " 1 8 has made her just as incapable as her new husband of the ideal simple l i f e , and Sergei Petrovich's compromise need not be understood e n t i r e l y negatively. E r t e l himself, as Sebastian Garrett writes, came to have "the money to indulge his taste for the best, both for himself and for others. No expense was spared on his daughter's education; any jewelry he bought his family was choice. . . . His t r a v e l l i n g t o i l e t r i e s were of cut glass and s i l v e r , and he l i k e d a box at the opera." 1 9 It seems safer to interpret the characters of 1 7L. E. Obolenskii, "Intelligentnaia neumelost': k r i t i c h e s k i i etiud," Russkoe bogatstvo 11 (1887): 211ff. 1 8SS v o l . 4, 19. "paBHOBecHle] zyuiH" Maria Pavlovna and Sergei Petrovich i n l i g h t of E r t e l ' s moderation with regard to possessions. The p a r a l l e l we have drawn between th i s story and Anna Karenina decisively breaks down at th i s point. If we expected to find a wholesome alternative to the older couple i n the love between Fedor and Lizutka, we are quickly disappointed. It turns out that, while they might not be "savages," the peasants certainly seem to be very human. After the wedding i s c a l l e d o f f , Fedor and his friends spend an evening with a certain Frosia drinking and dancing, which frightens away Lizutka as she notices her Fedor make advances to t h e i r hostess. But none of them i s condemned, which suggests that the story has no real v i l l a i n s . While Obolenskii's hopeful reading of Maria Pavlovna might be questioned on the grounds that i t takes us beyond the text, one must be careful not to assume that Sergei Petrovich and Maria Pavlovna's return to refined ways indicates a sure vulgarization of the two and, as such, a debunking of Tolstoy's teachings on the simple l i f e . 2 0 To be sure, the older couple's attitude towards the people i s naive and p a t e r n a l i s t i c , and they do seem unable or unwilling to "work for others." Their i n a b i l i t y can be seen, for instance (as Obolenskii explains) i n Maria Pavlovna*s f a i l u r e to undertake to teach the peasant children, as she might have done according to the populist 1 9 S . Garrett, "A.I. E r t e l ' : Letters to his Daughter," M.A. thesis, U of Birmingham, 1982, 29. ^ N i k i f o r o v , "Tvorchestvo A. I. E r t e l i a , " 60ff. agenda. One asks, however, whether the polarizing of the two couples i s meant to be understood as an indictment of the i n t e l l i g e n t s i a i n general, or as a questioning of the universal c a l l , whether populist or Tolstoyan, to the simple l i f e . What the story appears to teach i s that enforced populism f a i l s to take the complexity of l i f e seriously. As i t happened, h i s t o r i c a l circumstances including c u l t u r a l barriers and different native environments made Sergei Petrovich and Maria Pavlovna's attempts to become one with the people not only impossible, but comical. In t h i s manner neither party, i n the end, i s e n t i r e l y to blame, and Ertel's story commends i t s e l f as one which i s intended to inspire good w i l l , and i n which only the universal c a l l to the simple l i f e i s condemned. 63 "The S a c r i f i c e of One Child:" "Chervonets" With his concern for the individual i n the group E r t e l turns, as one might have expected, to Dostoyevsky. As he wrote to Chertkov on 17 August 1888, "How i s one to reconcile the dualism which results from opposing matter to reason: that dualism which . . caused . . . Ivan Karamazov to raise the standard of revolt against the Lord God?" 2 1 In his story "Chervonets" ("The Gold Coin," Krasnyi tsyetok, 1889) E r t e l portrays a young man who i s tempted to j u s t i f y the s a c r i f i c e of one individual for the good of society. Inspired by his readings of Francois Coppee (1842-1908),22 "Chervonets" i s the story of a compulsive gambler, Andrei, who steals a gold coin from a six-year-old beggar g i r l and wins a fortune with i t i n a Paris casino. The Devil i n the guise of a " l i t t l e Pole" named Dronskii tempts him twice: f i r s t he t e l l s him what the winning number i s to be: then, after Andrei has won his fortune, he tempts him to j u s t i f y his theft (from the g i r l who has now frozen to death) by seeing to i t that the money i s put towards charitable causes. After a l l , says Dronskii, someone else would have stolen the money anyway and used i t on 2 1 P i s 'ma 93. "KaKHM o6pa30M npHMMpHTb nojiynaiomHKcfl M3 conocTaBJieHHa pa3yMa H MaTepHH ^yajiH3M, TOT ayajiM3M, KOTopwfi , . . 3acTaBJiflji . . , kteaHa KapaMa30Ba [noabiMaTb 3HaMfl 6yHTa] npoTMB rocncaa Bora?" 22 A. Lezhnev, afterword, Gardeniny, by A. I. E r t e l (Moscow: Academia, 1933) 492-93. Lezhnev writes that "Chervonets" was an adaptation of Coppee's "Liudor," and was to be included i n Gardeniny as a tale by I. Fedotych. drink. No sooner does Andrei begin to find t h i s idea appealing than death, appearing i n the hollow-cheeked face of a c h i l d , knocks at his door. While what motivates Andrei to steal i n the f i r s t place i s his greed, the r e a l message of the story seems to l i e i n the moral dilemma which he faces once he has won the money, and as he confronts his own r e s p o n s i b i l i t y for i n j u s t i c e . A good deal of the story i s devoted to his dialogue about i n j u s t i c e with Dronskii, who i n s i s t s that the "One who ordered things" i s to be blamed for the fact that some have plenty while others starve. Dronskii disappears, while Andrei i s torn between his feeling of r e s p o n s i b i l i t y for the g i r l ' s soul and the compelling notion that the well-being of humanity can be b u i l t on her s a c r i f i c e . This echoes Ivan Karamazov's challenge to his brother Alesha: [IJmagine that you are charged with building the e d i f i c e of human destiny, whose ultimate aim i s to bring people happiness . . . but that i n order to achieve t h i s i t i s essential and unavoidable to torture just one l i t t l e speck of creation, that same l i t t l e c h i l d beating her breast with her l i t t l e f i s t s , and imagine that this e d i f i c e has to be erected on her unexpiated tears. Would you agree to be the architect under those conditions? 2 3 Where E r t e l stood i s clear from what he wrote to Korolenko: "I simply f a i l to understand," he explained i n February, 1890, "how 23F. M. Dostoyevsky, The Karamazov Brothers, trans. I. Avsey, (New York: Oxford UP, 1994) 308. any good can result from the s a c r i f i c e of one l i f e . . . . Ivan i n the singular contains an i n f i n i t e world i n his s o u l . " 2 4 Concerned at this point with two pri n c i p a l philosophical confrontations—the problems of free w i l l versus determinism, and now of the individual i n the group—Ertel begins a quest for synthesis which w i l l inform his philosophy of "compromise," which we s h a l l examine i n Part Two. ^ 4 P i s 'ma 185. "fl peuiMTGJibHo He noHMMaio, K S K M O X H O i i eHHTb KaKHe-JiH6O 6jiara ueHoio 3ary6jieHHOH X:H3HH. . . . MeaH B e j iMHCTBeHHOM 4HCJie BMemaeT B ztyue CBoef i TaKOH GeCKOHe^HblH M M p . " 66 Part Two Compromise Erte l ' s philosophy of "compromise" was an outgrowth, as suggested i n the l a s t chapter, of his desire to reconcile determinism with free w i l l , and to define the place of the individual i n the group. If i n August 1888 he could boldly say that human w i l l i s determined by reason (which was to be considered a r e l i a b l e faculty) and the laws of c a u s a l i t y , 1 by March 1889 he admitted to a turn i n his philosophy: reason was not "such a great force" after a l l . 2 While he s t i l l acknowledged the power of one's circumstances i n shaping one's world view, he in s i s t e d that b e l i e f i n any determined future could not account for the courage to l i v e . Recognizing this tension E r t e l concluded that a l l human knowing had to be linked with the human capacity to love. 3 In 1929 Bunin wrote that E r t e l " f e l t with a l l his being that a r i g i d following of a p r i n c i p l e i s cold and deadly; that the warmth of l i f e l i e s i n compromise. . . ."4 What dominated his philosophy through 1891 was the urge to synthesize. For th i s reason he would envision Gardeniny as a novel i n which Providence could be reconciled with diverse world views, and ipis'ma 86-90. 2 P i s 'ma 145. "BOBce He rakasi cmna," 3Pis'ma 133. 4-1. Bunin, Memories and Portraits 128. Smena as one i n which individuals of diverse backgrounds could converge i n "the struggle" to reform Russia. By way of providing the ideological background for these two novels we s h a l l examine Er t e l ' s philosophy of compromise as i t related to moral conduct, i n s t i t u t i o n s , and art. As Parsons notes, the " f a i r l y consistent and o r i g i n a l 'philosophy'" articulated i n Ertel's correspondence was met with considerable enthusiasm by the Vekhi writers when the collected l e t t e r s were edited by Gershenzon i n 1909.5 The value of the c o l l e c t i o n was not found s t r i c t l y i n i t s philosophical content, however. In his l e t t e r s the author maintains a Russian t r a d i t i o n , begun as early as the country's origins and continued by (among others) Novikov, of writing epistolary polemics on s o c i a l and moral issues i n provocative, sometimes poetic, epistolary prose. As P. Struve noted: For t h e i r importance and depth, for the superb energy and exactness of t h e i r language the l e t t e r s of A.I. E r t e l ' must become a c l a s s i c work of our epistolary l i t e r a t u r e . . . It i s impossible to exhaust i n any a r t i c l e the wealth of ideas and observations contained i n his Letters. 6 5Parsons, 176. The three Vekhi writers who gave attention to Ert e l ' s thought were M. Gershenzon, S. Frank, and P. Struve. They were among those prominent i n t e l l e c t u a l s who i n 1909 published Vekhi. or Landmarks: A Collection of Essays on the Russian I n t e l l i g e n t s i a , and were part of the Russian religious renaissance at the turn of the century which was characterized by a move away from materialism and positivism towards a religious or metaphysical philosophy. 6p. Struve, "Na raznye temy," RM 1 (1909), second pagination: 113 (as translated by Parsons, 176). For t h i s reason we w i l l pay attention to both thought and c r a f t as we study E r t e l 1 s correspondence (to December 1891). As a "God-seeker" of his time, E r t e l sought answers, as Ovsianiko-Kulikovskii remarks, to the two questions "Where i s Truth?" and "What i s to be done?" 7 Gershenzon, who understood Er t e l ' s philosophy to be essentially p r a c t i c a l , stressed his interest i n the second question by noting that what E r t e l wished to know was "what does l i f e allow, and what does l i f e require?" 8 In any case, E r t e l ' s disagreement with Tolstoy can be understood i n the l i g h t of the questions Gershenzon emphasizes because what E r t e l disputed were the more e t h i c a l and p r a c t i c a l (as opposed to purely philosophical or theological) teachings of Tolstoy. E r t e l deeply admired Tolstoy for his i n i t i a t i v e i n those concerns which were "allowed," but parted company with him when i t came to be assumed that those good and proper convictions for some were to be "required" of a l l . E r t e l ' s attitude can be summed up with two comments: . . . Tolstoy has once again and with unusual strength introduced the concept of Truth into s o c i a l consciousness, so that no matter what 'D. N. Ovsianiko-Kulikovskii, Sobranie sochinenii v o l . 9 (St. Petersburg, 1914) 160. 8M. Gershenzon, "Mirovozzrenie A. I. E r t e l i a , " i n Ert e l ' s Pis'ma. v. We note that Gershenzon's conclusions were not based on an acquaintance with E r t e l ' s work as a whole, but rather the philosophy expressed i n Gershenzon's own selection of Ertel's l e t t e r s . As he wrote i n a l e t t e r of Nov. 1908 to M.V. E r t e l , Gershenzon expressed his desire to have complete independence i n editing E r t e l ' s l e t t e r s so that he could focus on his own interests (State Library of the Russian Federation, Manuscript d i v i s i o n , fond 349, karton 9, ed. khr. 73). 69 happens, no matter how hard Pobedonostsev and Co. tr y to silence him . . . Truth remains. 9 I won't deny that there i s a great deal i n L.N. T[olstoy]'s thought which I f i n d true and s t r i k i n g l y profound, but I disagree with him when i t comes to [his position on] c i v i c organizations, i n s t i t u t i o n s , the means for combatting e v i l and to a certain extent so c a l l e d c i v i l i z a t i o n . . . . He has always attracted me not as a "teacher," but as an unusually rare example of i n t e l l e c t and that which i s referred to as t a l e n t . 1 0 Moral Conduct From a stance of what might be termed "moral pluralism," whereby "even the greatest individuals have been and are often right for themselves personally and only i n part for others f " 1 1 E r t e l questioned Tolstoy's universal summons to the simple l i f e and (what he understood to be) the pursuit of perfection for i t s own sake. 1 2 Well acquainted with Confession, E r t e l was aware of Tolstoy's tendency to perceive the authentic l i f e as one devoted to self-perfection. While t h i s "Buddhist" and i n d i v i d u a l i s t (as 9Pis'ma 215. 1 0Pis'ma 181-2. H p i s 'ma 267. "caMbie j i a x e BejiHKHe JUO&H Me j i oBenecTBa , M a c r o 6bmajin H 6biBaioT npaBbi fljia ce6a JIHMHQ H TOJibKO omacTH npaBbi JIJIA jipyrHX." 1 2With regards to Tolstoy's insistence on non-violence, Parsons discusses Ertel's t h i r d option between pacifism and revolutionary violence: the "bloodless p r i n c i p l e of struggle." This p r i n c i p l e recognized the necessity of actions which had to be carried out within the bounds of what was h i s t o r i c a l l y possible (Parsons, 183). E r t e l perceived i t ) i n c l i n a t i o n had i t s place i n the l i f e devoted to the good of others, i t s asceticism and preference given to the pursuit of martyrdom led ultimately (and paradoxically) to the dissolution of the " I " i n the whole. Like Chekhov, E r t e l could not imagine the kind of a f t e r - l i f e where the individual was to be absorbed into the whole, or as i n Tolstoy's v i s i o n , where one was, i n Ert e l ' s view, "poured out into space." 1 3 "Self-denial," E r t e l explained to Chertkov, "seems to me just as much a 'refraction of nature' as . . . l i f e for the be l l y . . . . Everything i n moderation, everything i n moderation, my friend! I think every l i f e should evolve . . . gradually. . . ." 1 4 L i f e as i t ought to be, E r t e l believed, need not require such s a c r i f i c e s : As wonderful as i t i s that Christ l i v e d , I ' l l r i s k impertinence and say that my outlook on the future i s comforting only when I can imagine that such s a c r i f i c e s and heroic illumination are impossible. . . . 'To give one's l i f e for others' i s a great thing, but not a daily one, or the sort of deed which one must pursue at a l l cost. 1 5 E r t e l admitted to Korolenko that he did not believe Tolstoy belonged to those who, pursuing self-perfection for i t s own sake, distanced themselves from quotidian and worldly concerns. However, i n his teachings one did find an approval of that sort 1 3 P i s 'ma 163. "6biTb pa3JiMTbiM B MMPOBOM npocTpaHCTBe," 14pis 'ma 158. "CaMOOTpeHeHHe MHG npe jucTaBJ iaeTCf l T B K H M xe «npej iOMJieHHeM e c T e c T B a » , KBK . . . XM3Hi> jun yTpoBbi , . . . Bee B Mepy, see B r* iepy, Jipyn MHe KaxeTca, MTO xM3Hb K a x a o r o ne j ioBeKa z i o j i x H a c o B e p i u a T b c a . . . B nocTeneHCTBe p o c T a . . . . " 1 5Pis'ma 159-60. of l i f e , and for this reason E r t e l f e l t he must oppose Tolstoy's ascetic anarchy and refusal to participate i n c i v i c structures. 1 6 Elsewhere E r t e l included Tolstoy among those "Utopians" who instead of seeking unity i n "endless d i v e r s i t y " longed for formal unity, i n s i s t i n g that the means to such an end was to obliterate the di v e r s i t y and disregard the contradictions of l i f e . 1 7 Institutions E r t e l ' s moral pluralism did not imply moral relativism. He insisted, as Gershenzon observed, on an "absolute understanding of truth, and re l a t i v e application of i t . " 1 8 This o b j e c t i v i s t understanding with q u a l i f i c a t i o n s had implications for his view of history, which he generally regarded as purposeful. As he wrote i n February, 1890, true progress i s "that gradual development of s o l i d a r i t y between people, that constant broadening of people's consciousness, [and] that growth of humane and, consequently, just understanding." 1 9 Where Tolstoy emphasized the Kingdom of Heaven "within," and expected, as E r t e l perceived, immediate change to bring about that end, E r t e l i n s i s t e d that 1 6Pis'ma 189. 1 7Pis'ma 237. l 8 P i s 'ma X I I I . 1 9 P i s 'ma 186. "TO nocTeneHHoe pa3BHTne cojinaapHOCTM Mexzy JnoabMM, TO HenepecTaiomee pacumpeHHe B jnoaax co3HaHHf l , TO HapacTaHHe ryMaHHbix, a cjieztoBaTejibHO, w cnpaBejuiHBbix noHATHfi." i n nature i t has been demonstrated that there have never been sudden occurrences or cataclysms. Nor can there be any i n human nature. As soon as a person attempts them he becomes exhausted and, voluntarily or otherwise, a victim of 'prematurity' ("prezhdevremennost 1"). 2 0 He perceived, instead, that the "Kingdom," l i k e progress, comes about gradually. His "anti-catastrophic" view of history i s evident i n a l e t t e r to Chertkov, dated 4 July 1888, where he describes his sense of belonging to his r u r a l homeland, i n spite of the lure of the c i t y . His l e t t e r demonstrates, additionally, the way i n which he attempts to persuade by appealing to his reader's aesthetic s e n s i b i l i t i e s : After four years, I'm back i n my native land. . . . What strength do I find, what power i n these f i e l d s which stretch into the blue distance, i n t h i s wind which carries the scent of the earth and wormwood, i n the monotonous sound of the b e l l , i n these v i l l a g e s scattered here and there! The forest prattles and i t s birds greet me with t h e i r clear voices... The church tower I know so well seems to smile as i t moves majestically from behind a r i s e i n the ground. . . . How pleasant and how sad I f e e l : inside I sense tears welling up for some unknown reason, but at the same time a l l i s bright and good so that a gentle, c h i l d - l i k e joy f i l l s my being... Home, I'm home.21 In expressing the hold one's environment has on the individual and giving preference to the "ordinary" and r u r a l (but lasting) E r t e l was appealing to a prosaic s e n s i b i l i t y . Ultimately i t was . t h i s aspect of Tolstoy's art which l e f t the most l a s t i n g impression on E r t e l , for "what was foretold by Isaiah and the 2 0Pis'ma 64. 21pis'ma 63. angels at Bethlehem . . ." would not happen, E r t e l believed, " i n s t i n c t i v e l y or cataclysmically, but by the combined effor t s of 'the meek,' on the one hand, and by the ' h i s t o r i c a l chain of events ' on the other. " 2 2 On the basis of th i s view of progress and the "Kingdom of God" E r t e l advocated a much more p r a c t i c a l attitude towards those i n s t i t u t i o n s which Tolstoy rejected on pr i n c i p l e , namely the government and the u n i v e r s i t y . 2 3 To deny the i n s t i t u t i o n of government, E r t e l argued, was to "hang i n mid a i r " ; on the other hand, one had to struggle against i t , as government was i d e a l l y not an end i n i t s e l f , and society ought to come together f r e e l y . 2 4 Similarly one had to tolerate the university's " e v i l s " of exams, ranks, and research limitations while trying to put into practice the notion of the free university, recognizing, i n the meantime, that i t would be counter-productive for a Mendeleev to s e l l his research equipment on every occasion for c h a r i t y . 2 5 In the same l e t t e r (to Chertkov) E r t e l employs another analogy to advocate a balance between charity, science and art. 2 2 P i s 'ma 267. "HaciyriMT npe,ncKa3aHHoe Mcawef i M B03rjiaiueHHoe BH$JieeMCKHMM aHrejiaMM . . . He H a m w e M , He KaTaKJiH3M3MH, a HMeHHO T B M , M T O <paBHOj ieHCTByioiMaf l» 6y/teT n o a B u r a T b C f l Bbiwe M Bbime ycHJinflMM « H H I M H X > , C OJUHOH CTOpOHbl, H «HCTOpMMeCKHM X0,ZI0M» C 0 6 b l T H M - - C a p y r O M . " 2 3 I n l a t e r years E r t e l would also defend the i n s t i t u t i o n of the Church, as we s h a l l see i n the Conclusion, while perceiving e v i l i n the alliance of Church and State. 2 4Pis'ma 192. 2 5Pis'ma 108-110. Christ, he writes, has come to Russia during Nicholas' reign (1825-55) and gathered together a following of former prisoners and downtrodden who now love one another and await God's reign on earth. In the meantime Christ i s arrested and sentenced to death, his apostles are educated on half-digested Schopenhauer, and Hegel and Descartes preach the "good news" about l i v i n g the simple l i f e according to the teachings of Jesus. Then, as the message i s popularized, the power comes into the hands of a dictator, so that eventually universities and art g a l l e r i e s are destroyed, while writers, s c i e n t i s t s and a r t i s t s are exiled. E r t e l interprets his parable by saying that "a moral teaching, no matter how great, i s i n s u f f i c i e n t for the good of humanity without knowledge and a r t . " 2 6 Art Just as i n s t i t u t i o n s were to be seen as a means to an end, works of the imagination were not to exist for t h e i r own sake. It was i n emphasizing different functions of art, however, that E r t e l avoided both Tolstoy's reductionism and what Tolstoy c r i t i c i z e d as "refined" art, lacking i n universal appeal. While E r t e l recognized the didactic function of art, he ins i s t e d that "art [exists] not only to teach, but to provide enjoyment." 2 7 2 6 P i s ' m a 105. "HpaBCTBeHHoe y- ieHHe, x a x 6t>i OHO HH 6biJio BWCOKO, CJIHLUKOM HEjuocTaTOMHo juifl 6jiara J i r o a e f t 6e3 3HaHHfl H H C K y c c T B a , " 2 7 P i s 'ma 79. "HCKyccTBO He ajia T o r o TOjibKO, MTofibi HaynaTb. HO H MS\ T o r o , HT06bl XM3Hb BMeil jaJia M HaCJ iaxaeHHe HCKyCCTBOM." 75 A writer of Russia's " r e a l i s t " t r a d i t i o n , E r t e l believed i n the writer's duty to depict l i f e t r u t h f u l l y . He was confident i n the writer's capacity to write "objectively," for he c r i t i c i z e d as too subjective Beecher Stowe's description (in Uncle Tom's Cabin) of the negro as utt e r l y good and the plantation owner as e v i l to the same degree. The writer's task, he insisted, was to demonstrate that "no one i s to blame." As he wrote to Nikolaev on 6 March 1891: In essence no one i s to blamef that i s my point. . . . [This fact] does not exclude struggle [to come to the truth], but i n that struggle one must not forget the individual; one must remember that Katkov i s the result of certain influences and circumstances, while Chernyshevsky of others. . . . Of course, i n the p r a c t i c a l realm— i n p o l i t i c a l l i f e , for i n s t a n c e — i t i s d i f f i c u l t to maintain this position. . . . [But] i n the realm of art, which Hugo refers to as Grand Art, there i s no place for malice and c a l l s for violence, for neither malice nor violence i s compatible with Truth. . . . 2 8 At the same time art was to pronounce "a judgment about r e a l i t y i n the name of changeless, intransient t r u t h . " 2 9 The apparent contradiction between th i s and his nonjudgmental, "no fau l t " p r i n c i p l e can be explained by his praise of Dickens, who presented l i f e with a l l i t s "authentic characteristics," but who at the same time brought "the reader through a series of good and e v i l deeds towards noble thoughts and feelings" [emphasis 2 8Pis'ma 246-7. 2 9 P i s 'ma 188. "cya-TO HSS. [jieflcTBHTejibHOCTbio] BO HMA He3bi6jieMofi, Henpexoaflmeft npaBflbi." added]. 3 0 E r t e l did not deny that individuals commit e v i l deeds; he was simply confident that the writer could (and should) make judgments about what was ultimately good and true without condemning the evildoer. True to a philosophy of "compromise," E r t e l took Tolstoy "in moderation." Where both he and Tolstoy recognized the duty of the writer to " t e l l the truth," E r t e l could not, for very long, l i m i t his audience to the narod, and thus depict l i f e as i t ought to be according to a certain dogma. He made the e f f o r t instead to write f i c t i o n which faulted no one, while "pointing towards" objective truth, beauty and goodness. Where both E r t e l and Tolstoy recognized the dangers of art for i t s own sake, E r t e l i n s i s t e d on the duty of art to give pleasure. F i n a l l y , where both writers sought to instruct, E r t e l believed that any moral mandate that was not a l l i e d with reason was doomed to f a i l . This view caused E r t e l to question Tolstoy's desire for a cataclysmic r e a l i z a t i o n of the Kingdom of God, but to give preference to a view of the Kingdom which was more compatible with what we have c a l l e d "moral pluralism" i n conduct, h i s t o r i c a l necessity with regards to i n s t i t u t i o n s , and the notion of progress as he understood i t . While a Providential Hand i n history i s evident i n Gardeniny and Smena, the two novels are equally d i a l o g i c a l , for each voice or world view was to be understood only as i t related 30pjs 'ma 80. "BecTH 4HTaTejifl CKB03b BepeHHuy 3Jibix M aoBpbix ^ejioBeyecKHX aeji H nocTyriKOB—K aotfpbiM H 6jiaropoaHbiM MWCJIAM M MyBCTBaM." to others. E r t e l was very hopeful about the p o s s i b i l i t i e s for dialogue between people of good w i l l , and for t h i s reason had l i t t l e patience for misrepresentation. As he ins i s t e d to M. N. Chistiakov on 20 July 1889: "One can speak i l l of another person only when one gives the f u l l picture of that person, or when speaking with someone who i s already well acquainted with that person and can complete the picture with the good one has f a i l e d to mention. " 3 1 • 3 1Pis 'ma 153. "0 JIKUAX 3Jioe MOXHO roBopmb, HO C O&HHM yc j iOBneM: HJIH Koraa a a e w b nojiHyio KapTHHy Toro MejioBeKa, o KOTOPOM roBopnuib, HJIH Koraa roBopmub c TeM, KTO H 6e3 Te6fl OTJIHMHO 3HaeT T o r o n e j i o B e K a , 3H3MMT, MoxeT K TBoeMy 3JioMy npnGaBHTb ajifl n o j m o T b i KapTMHbi Bee TO ao6poe, HTO 3HaeT npo inejiOBeKa. " 78 Chapter Three Providential Polyphony i n Gardeniny But that i s the beginning of a new s t o r y — t h e story of the gradual rebirth of a man, the story of his gradual regeneration. . . . —Crime and Punishment1 When Ert e l ' s administrative e x i l e i n Tver' had ended i n early 1888 he moved to his family farm on the Gryaznusha r i v e r , Voronezh uyezd, and wrote his magnum opus: Gardeniny. ikh dvornia, priverzhentsy i vragi ("The Gardenins, t h e i r Servants, Retainers and Enemies," RM, 1889; published i n book form i n 1890). Of epic dimensions and scope, Gardeniny i s a "panoramic" novel of Russian society i n the 1870's when, as Levin remarked i n Anna Karenina, "everything [had] been turned upside down and [was] only just taking shape." 2 In Er t e l ' s words, the novel depicted . . . that period i n public consciousness when ideas are reborn, b e l i e f s are modified, new forms of community powerfully accelerate one's c r i t i c a l stance towards l i f e , when an almost opposite new world-view sprouts. At the same time [ i t depicts] that free current of thought which i s independent of the s u p e r f i c i a l forms of community, and the providential gravitation of 1-F.M. Dostoyevsky, Crime and Punishment, trans, and in t r o . D. Magarshack (New York: Penguin Books, 1966) 559. 2L.N. Tolstoy, Anna Karenina, trans, and int r o . R. Edmonds (New York: Penguin Books, 1978) 352. man towards the l i g h t . . . . 3 In the same l e t t e r E r t e l explained that he wished "to r e c a l l certain individuals from [his] personal past," 4 which suggests that sources for the novel were drawn from his own biography as well as from s o c i a l history. E r t e l ' s novel i s both s o c i a l and personal, public and private, for he took i t for granted that the particular embodied the universal. As Donna Orwin writes, there was "a general predisposition i n nineteenth century Russia to see the individual as the embodiment of the S p i r i t of the time." 5 For a sober assessment, therefore, of both the " s p i r i t " of the 1870's and his own past, E r t e l set the novel nearly twenty years back i n time. Most of the action takes place on or near the ancestral lands of the Gardenins i n south central Russia. The gentry family i t s e l f provides only the frame, as i t were, for the narrative, while the main characters are among those whose l i v e s revolve around the estate or the hero. The central figures ( i d e n t i f i e d for the time being by profession and/or relationship with the hero) include: the estate manager (father of the hero), the horse trainer, a joiner (hero's primary mentor), two merchants (also mentors to the hero), and a medical student (hero's "double"). Lesser figures include those women with whom 3Pis'ma 172-3. 4 P i s 'ma 172. "Koe-KaKHe (Jwrypw H3 c o B c T B e H H o r o n p o i u j i o r o . " Sfjrwin, 8. the hero shares varying degrees of intimacy, a sectarian, the parish pr i e s t s , the clerk, and f i n a l l y the housekeeper. At the centre we find Nikolai Rakhmannyi, whose "gradual regeneration" gives the novel a plot. Nikolai's story unfolds on two l e v e l s : i n t e l l e c t u a l and moral. His i n t e l l e c t u a l development takes him, with the aid of his mentors, from Orthodoxy through positivism to a philosophy of "small deeds." On the moral plane his development comes about through a s p e c i f i c romantic relationship which i n i t i a l l y results i n his estrangement from a friend, for he seduces that man's wife. The r e c o n c i l i a t i o n with his friend which comes years l a t e r i s t r u l y momentous, for i n i t the two dimensions of Nikolai's development reach a climax: he begs forgiveness of his friend, who as his mentor had placed within him the seed of a s p i r i t u a l philosophy which was now bearing f r u i t , and who now "released" his wife to join Nikolai (as he himself was departing on a pilgrimage). However, while the r e l a t i o n a l c o n f l i c t i s resolved, the l a s t stage of Nikolai's i n t e l l e c t u a l development raises a c o n f l i c t which i s l e f t untouched. This has to do with his philosophy of "small deeds," which increasingly becomes tempered by a "Buddhist" preoccupation with ceaseless change which undercuts his confidence i n la s t i n g progress. Gardeniny has rarely been c r i t i c i s e d as a panoramic novel. With the exception of I. Tkhorzhevskii, who wrote that the steppe region depicted was "lazy . . . [and] enveloped i n sleep and stagnation," 6 most c r i t i c s find i n the novel something worthy of a r t i s t i c appreciation. Tolstoy, i n his preface to the 1908 edition of Gardeniny, praised Ertel's knowledge of folk l i f e and popular language; 7 Gol'tsev applauded Er t e l * s thorough acquaintance with various currents i n religious thought; 8 S a l i k o v s k i i wrote that "rarely does one fi n d i n our contemporary l i t e r a t u r e such a broad and r i c h panorama of l i f e ; " 9 Soviet c r i t i c s generally saw E r t e l as an a r t i s t whose work t e l l s "the truth" about the collapse of the old s o c i a l order and the advent of capitalism i n Russia. 1 0 Few c r i t i c s , however, have perceived i n the novel the development of an adequate central idea. Karonin accused E r t e l of stringing together too many episodes a r t i f i c i a l l y , 1 1 6 I . Tkhorzhevskii, Russkaia l i t e r a t u r a (Paris: Vozrozhdenie, 1946) 432. "JieHHBafl . . , [H] eme o 6 i f l T a f l CHOM M 3 a c T o e M . " 7L.N. Tolstoy, preface, SS v o l . 5, by A. I. E r t e l , 8 (Repr. PSS vo l . 37: 243) . 8V.A. Gol'tsev, "Literatura i zhizn'," RM 1 (1890), second pagination: 203. 9A. Salikovsky, "Sovremennye techeniia v obshchestvennoi zhiz n i , " Russkoe bogatstvo 11 (1890): 143. "He Macro B HawePi j i M T e p a T y p e , ocoSeHHO coBpeMeHHOf l , n p n x o i i H T C f l BCTpenaTb Taxyio wnpoKyio H rjoraryio naHopaMy XM3HH. . . . " 1 0G. A. Kostin writes, for example, that " E r t e l f a i t h f u l l y and broadly depicts, with a knowledge of the conditions and way of l i f e , the Gardenin estate and the v i l l a g e peasants... [He] shows that the general laws of capitalism's growth enveloped even th i s remote region." ( "UJnpoKO H npaBZWBo, co 3H3HHeM ycj ioBMM XH3HH M 6bna onncb iBaeT BpTe j ib r a p a e H H H C K y i o aBopHio H K p e c T b f l H ztepeBHH... n u c a T e j i b n o K a 3 b i B a e T f MTO 06l4He 3aK0Hbl pa3BHTHfl KanMTaJlM3Ma 33XBaTHJIH H 3T0 3 a x o j i y c T b e . " ) I s t o r i i a russkoi l i t e r a t u r y , v o l . 9 (Moscow-Leningrad: ANSSSR, 1956) 162-3. U s . Karonin, Sochineniia. v o l . 2 (Moscow: Goslitizdat, 1958) 582. S a l i k o v s k i i could find i n the novel no plot to speak o f , 1 2 and Protopopov found neither authentic characters nor an overarching theme.13 Batiushkov was the most generous i n th i s regard: "[Ertel] does not give us an integrated understanding of l i f e , but ably relates the episodes of l i f e . Therein l i e both his strength and weakness; he observes and seeks, but sees only the change, not the whole organic process." 1 4 E r t e l seems to have admitted to th i s weakness when he wrote: "What resulted was not a novel i n the r e a l sense but a chronicle—and perhaps a boring o n e . . . . What I' ve produced i s material for a novel, and not a novel." 1 5 On one l e v e l a response to these c r i t i c i s m s i s perhaps unnecessary. If what was sought as a "central idea" was a clear argument i n favour of one s o c i o - p o l i t i c a l movement or another, then Gardeniny i s to be commended for the p l u r a l i t y of ideas represented. On another l e v e l the slow pace, great attention to d e t a i l , ethnographic sketches, and the occasional "detachable" episode, or "delineated segment,"16 require some j u s t i f i c a t i o n , 1 2Salikovsky, 144. 13M. Protopopov, "Tendentsioznyi roman," Severnyi vestnik 2 (1890): 53. 1 4 F . Batiushkov, introduction, SS v o l . 1, by A. I. E r t e l , xxxn-xxxiv. "O H He iiaeT uej iocTHoro MMponoHHMaHHfl XM3HH, HO yMe.no pacc«a3biBaeT 3n.M30.zibi 5KH3HH, B BTOM epo CHJia w e r o cna6ocTb, OH npHCMaTpwBaeTCfl, HUieT, HaGjuoaaeT, HO BHAHT jiHUJb cMeHY ABJ ieHHH, a He opraHHMecKMH i^ej iocTHbif l n p o i i e c c . " 1 5 P i s 'ma 173-4. " B M e c T O poMaHa B HacToameM 3HaMeHMH 3Toro cJioBa Bbimjia xpoHMKa H, M O x e T SbiTb, j i o c T a T O M H o c K y M H a f l . . . . BOT H Bbiuieji He p o M a H , a M a i e p n a j i j j j i f l p o M a H a . " otherwise the novel can be said to suffer from a certain lack of focus. Indeed, not a l l of the episodes have an obvious role i n the plot. Nevertheless, within the framework of what G. S. Morson c a l l s "sideshadowing," understood as the "antithesis of foreshadowing . . . [and that which] conveys the sense that actual events might just as well not have happened,"17 the above inconsistencies can and do have t h e i r role i n the kind of novel where multiple p o s s i b i l i t i e s are created through r i c h d e t a i l , episodes which "go nowhere," and where characters are doubled. 1 8 While he recognized the apparent deficiencies, E r t e l was r e l a t i v e l y pleased with his "material for a novel," as he wrote to Gol'tsev, mentioning i n particular certain portraits and ethnographic sketches. Elsewhere he expressed hope i n i t s value, as well as a clear overall objective: "I pray to God that I might have been able to show i n what manner one can exclaim . . . Yes, l i f e i s possible!" 1 9 E r t e l recognized that his novel was to serve more than one function. This chapter w i l l therefore be divided into three Gustafson, Leo Tolstoy: Resident and Stranger (Princeton: Princeton UP, 1986) 41. l^G.S. Morson, Narrative and Freedom (New Haven: Yale UP, 1994) 117-18. 18gy "doubling of characters" Morson means that "fundamental pri n c i p l e of plot construction i n Karamazov . . . i n which major characters . . . possess a series of doubles, . . . each of whom acts out possible l i v e s for a doubled and redoubled hero." Morson, Narrative 140. 1 9Pis'ma 129. "MOJIIO Bora Jimub o TOM, MTorjbi yaaj iocb noKa3aTb, (OKHM o6pa30M . . . M05KH0 BOCKJIHKHyTb! fla, XHTb M0>KH0!" sections, the f i r s t of which, "Confrontation," deals with E r t e l ' s ethnographic impulse: the desire to "document" a period of t r a n s i t i o n . With attention to setting, routines, the equestrian theme, and the novel's main characters, we w i l l examine the pr i n c i p a l forms of confrontation with which the novel i s concerned. The second section, e n t i t l e d "Dialogue," concerns the epistemological impulse i n the novel, whereby the author employs a doubling device to create and display dialogue. The t h i r d section, "Progress," w i l l consider the novel's didactic impulse as reflected i n i t s central theme: the gradual and "providential gravitation of man towards the l i g h t . " 2 0 Confrontation Founded by r e t i r e d Brigadier General I u r i i Gardenin i n 1768, the v i l l a g e of Annenskoe (as we learn i n 1/2) was situated in a picturesque but remote steppe region of south central Russia, a hundred and twenty versts from the nearest c i t y . A hundred years l a t e r i t was s t i l l isolated, as the nearest r a i l r o a d was eighteen versts away and the inhabitants of the v i l l a g e were only vaguely aware of the existence of banks, railways, telegraphs and governing bodies. Even though the town regularly received issues of "Son of the Fatherland" and "Horsebreeding Magazine," they preferred to be connected with the wider world by means of " l i v e " news ( i . e . through individuals). The r i v e r which ran through Annenskoe had been 2°pis 'ma 173. "npoBHtfeHunajibHoe TflroTew-ie MejioBexa K cBeTy" turned into ponds, now f u l l of geese and ducks, and surrounded by peasant dwellings and maple, lime and birch trees. The estate i t s e l f , c a l l e d Gardenino, stands on two sides of a pond. On one side are located enormous horse stables, a ri d i n g house, a barn, store rooms, ice houses, a kitchen, the laundry, the housekeeper's quarters, and the manor house i t s e l f with balconies which face the pond. The wings of the mansion house the o f f i c e and dwellings for the jockeys, the driver, stable hands, smiths, the cook, and the butler, right up to (in order of importance) the clerk, the horse trainer and the estate manager. On the other side of the pond stand more barns, a granary and threshing f l o o r . The d a i l y routines about the estate, when the novel opens i n 1871, are s t i l l related s t r i c t l y to maintaining the estate i t s e l f : the manager makes dai l y rounds and the horse trainer oversees the stud farm, while at the lowest l e v e l the common labourers work i n the f i e l d s . While the horse trainer and estate manager conduct t h e i r a f f a i r s with s t r i c t authority, supervision at the lower levels of society i s showing signs of change. In the f i e l d s , for instance, the estate manager's son's light-hearted interaction with common peasants draws attention to the fact that t h e i r basic needs are being overlooked, and suggests that r i g i d class barriers are breaking down. Dressed i n coarse hempen s h i r t s , high tucked-in old s k i r t s , and "revealing bare d i r t y legs," Grun'ka and Dashka are raking manure on a spring day when they see Nikolai approaching. Dashka begins: 86 "Mikolka's going to see us, and just look at us!" "The d e v i l take him," answered [Grun'ka] i n a coarse voice. "We're not gentry ladies. When there's manure to f l i n g around you can't get a l l done up." "Hey, Grun'ka, I see you're getting squeamy. I notice you smarten yourself up, but swear a l l the same. . . . One's l i t t l e heart pines away when a nice l i t t l e friend i s around. Why hide i t ? " "He's no darling of mine. You have him, the chubby d e v i l ! Hang him around your neck, i f you l i k e him. As for me, I could stand a century without him. I won't cry. . . .Oh, you're getting on my nerves too, Dashka, with your speeches!" 2 1 Nevertheless, Dashka notices that Grun'ka continues to try to look her best. When Nikolai approaches he says with feigned severity: "You're raking unevenly, you devi l s ! , " whereupon Grun'ka retorts: "Get i n here and show us then. . . . It's easy to be bright when you're s i t t i n g on the peasant's neck. . . . You've probably put away your f l a t cakes and tea, while Dashutka and I chewed a b i t of bread, which i s a l l we have." 2 2 After t h i s , Nikolai promises them lunch i n the cherry grove. This brief episode i s concerned not only with change and the peasant question. With Dashka's provocative diminutives (serdechko, druzhochek) used to tease her friend, and Grun'ka's hyperbolic "get a l l done up" (obriazhat' s i a ) , "manure to f l i n g around" (navoz raskidyvat') and "put away" (natreskalsia, from 2 1SS v o l . 6, 37. 2 2SS v o l . 6, 37. "—Bbi «nero HepoBHO pa36pacwBaeTe, n e p T M ? . . . —A TM cjie3b aa n o K a x M , KBK H a a o . . . 6ojibHo BW YMHW Ha iuee-T0 Ha M y x H L i K o f i c H ^ o ^ e . ... Tw Hefiocb Maio aa CJXO6HWX JienemeK HaTpecKaJica, a M b i c flawyTKOH noxeBajw xjie6yujKa, BOT Te6e H B o a e4a." tresk: "crack"), one i s given examples of the v i v i d peasant speech for which Tolstoy p a r t i c u l a r l y enjoyed the novel. Only the f i r s t chapter of the novel, which exists primarily for contrast, i s set away from Gardenino or i t s environs. There we meet three of the Gardenins themselves: Tat'iana Ivanovna (a widow), E l i z , and I u r i i (Rafail, the youngest, i s only mentioned) i n t h e i r St. Petersburg home, from which they v i s i t t h e i r estate i n the summer, unless they have to go abroad for E l i z ' s health. We are f i r s t introduced to I u r i i , who i s about sixteen, has f a i r skin, dark eyebrows and sparkling eyes, dressed i n a blue ulanka and ri d i n g pants. He makes his appearance by jumping from the bannisters to grab the maid, exclaiming i n a ha l f -serious tone: "And whad'ya have under that apron?" 2 3 This confident sense of authority i s also reflected i n the way he addresses his doorkeeper G r i g o r i i : I don't understand, G r i g o r i i , why we don't bring people from Annenskoe, but instead hire a l l sorts of tradesmen and so on, eh? I understand you; you're a hussar, a sergeant major, and so on. You know, I'm going to be a hussar. The l i f e hussars, eh? From Annenskoe we only have Iliushka, and no one else. Maman's maids are German. . . . I'd l i k e for a l l our servants to be our own serfs. You understand, i t ' s a proper manor house when the people are your own.24 We learn that I u r i i i s his mother's favourite, and, based on her morning routine (which includes a bath, a French novel and a massage administered by the German maid) and manner with 23s_S v o l . 5, 14. "3T - T 3 , MTO Hecewb noa (JjapTyKOM?" 2 4SS v o l . 5, 14-15. her servants, that both she and her son cherish t h e i r gentry authority and habits. When t o l d of her son's morning behaviour with the maid, and the fact that he had yelled at a young gardener for not taking off his hat, "Tatyana Ivanovna grinned fondly, with secret pride," and said: " T e l l [the gardener] not to l e t that happen. It's bad for I u r i i Konstantinovich's health to get angry. Better yet, why not l e t him go, and don't hire among the merchants." 2 5 Tat'iana Ivanovna's secure status i s reinforced by her housekeeper, whose l e t t e r expresses l o y a l subservience, p a r t i c u l a r l y with i t s choice of endearing diminutives: "You've delighted us, your f a i t h f u l servants, lady mistress, with your desire to spend the whole summer at Annenskoe. We, your f a i t h f u l servants, admit that we have been miserable without my lady's bright eyes (glazki). As an old woman, I have been especially sad. And on t h e i r ancestral lands the kids (detki) w i l l be able to run about mbre f r e e l y . " 2 6 As a day i n the luxurious l i f e of the Gardenins i n the i r c i t y home comes to be juxtaposed with the routines of those at the bottom of the s o c i a l ladder on the provincial estate, so the St. Petersburg-Gardenino opposition stands for one of the fundamental sources of c o n f l i c t i n the novel: the confrontation between "cataclysmic" and "prosaic" world views. 2 7 St. 2 5SS v o l . 5, 27. " T a T b f l H a klBaHOBHa HexHO, c TaPiHoio r o p a o c T b i o ycMexHyjiacb. . . . — T b l CKa^H £My, HTOfibl 3T0r0 H£ 5blJI0. rOpMK) KOHCTaHTHHbNy BpejXHO Cep^HTfcCfl. HJIH, Boo6me, ue jiyHwe e r o yeojiHTb? . . . H He 6epn OT K y n i i o B . " 2 6SS v o l . 5, 29. P e t e r s b u r g , as p r o j e c t e d i n the f i r s t chapter, stands as a source of d e c i s i v e a c t i o n f o r two reasons. F i r s t , i t i s there that Efrem, the horse t r a i n e r ' s son, i s i n v o l v e d with a c i r c l e which w i l l be spreading i t s r e v o l u t i o n a r y propaganda throughout the c o u n t r y s i d e . Second, th e r e I u r i i Gardenin a s p i r e s to prominence w i t h a m i l i t a r y c a r e e r and i n t e n d s t o i s s u e d i r e c t i v e s concerning the a f f a i r s of h i s f a m i l y e s t a t e i n due course. As he says to h i s servant: You know, G r i g o r i i , the manager at Annenskoe has served t h i r t y years. You can imagine how much he's s t o l e n . . . . But I intend to b r i n g a l l that to order, m i l i t a r y - l i k e , o l d chap. . . . What i f I took you, G r i g o r i i , as a h o r s e - t r a i n e r . How about i t ? 2 8 And i n due course I u r i i sends t h i s same G r i g o r i i to r e p l a c e the horse t r a i n e r at Gardenino. At Gardenino, however, such e f f o r t s and d i r e c t i v e s are f o r e i g n , and indeed unwelcome. The f i r s t c hapter serves to r a i s e y e t another c e n t r a l source of c o n f l i c t : the c o n f r o n t a t i o n - between " f a t h e r s and sons." The housekeeper addresses t h i s s o c i a l problem i n her l e t t e r : "What has come of our times, my lady. C h i l d r e n have no r e s p e c t f o r t h e i r e l d e r s . " 2 9 Here she i s r e f e r r i n g to Efrem, who has e n r o l l e d i n medical s c h o o l , r e f u s i n g to work on the 2 7 E r t e l uses the term " c a t a c l y s m i c " of an event which i s not inherent i n nature, and which, i f r e a l i z e d , v i c t i m i z e s those who attempt to b r i n g such events about (Pis'ma 64). I use the term " p r o s a i c " to c h a r a c t e r i z e E r t e l ' s a t t e n t i o n to what i s by c o n t r a s t n a t u r a l , ordinary, and everyday. 2 8 S S v o l . 5, 15. 2 9 S S v o l . 5, 29. "BOT BpeMGHa K 9 K n e HacTa;iki, cy^apbiHS: RQI\A noMmaioT pcukiTejieR 3a HMMTO." horse farm for his father. In St. Petersburg he shows further disrespect by refusing Tat'iana Ivanovna's o f f e r of lodging. This i s matched by E l i z ' s disrespect for her " s e l f i s h " mother, driven by her concern for the c i t y ' s poor: during a ride she comes across a drunken woman who i s being beaten, and demands permission to take her home.30 The family c o n f l i c t introduced here comes to be extended more generally to the confrontation between the old and the new so c i a l orders. Representing and looking after the interests of the old order are the Gardenin family's p r i n c i p a l "retainers," which include Kapiton Averianych, the s t r i c t horse trainer and father of Efrem, and Martin Lukianych, the authoritarian estate manager, who i n addition to overseeing the estate i s preoccupied with his son Nikolai's development as a suitable future manager. Both fathers suffer the same fate: Kapiton i s eventually ordered by I u r i i Gardenin to cede his job to the less e f f i c i e n t G r i g o r i i , then Martin i s replaced by Pereverzev, whose management s k i l l s and qualifications are more up-to-date. Then both men lose t h e i r sons to a diff e r e n t vocation: Efrem, we saw, joins a revolutionary movement, while Nikolai becomes a merchant. Nikolai, Efrem, and other important characters make up the new order, whether actively opposing the old ways as "enemies" (l i k e Efrem) or by representing diverse aspects of a changing 3 0 E H Z has, incidentally, been reading Crime and Punishment, and her near re-enactment of one of Raskolnikov's gestures i s one of several Dostoyevskian images i n the novel. Russia. These include: Ivan Fedotych, the joiner and p a c i f i s t "new Christian" who embodies certain Tolstoyan prin c i p l e s ; A r e f i i Suknoval, a protestant iconoclast who "knows his Bible;" Kosma Rukodeev, a wealthy and enlightened merchant; II* i a Finogenych Eferov, a merchant and admirer of Novikov; 3 1 Father Aleksandr, a priest of the "new formation;" and Agei Danilych, a free-thinking clerk who reads V o l t a i r e . It must be mentioned that the retainer/enemy d i s t i n c t i o n i s not meant to be r i g i d . Agei, for instance, stands on the borderline with his be l i e f that Russia should not have abolished serfdom, while opposing the "ignorance" of t r a d i t i o n a l religious b e l i e f . E r t e l wished to depict i n his novel "new forms of public opinion . . . [and the time] during which an almost opposite new world view burgeons," 3 2 and here we have indicated some of the reasons for that transformation: the ordinary and provincial i s being favoured above progressive c i t y l i f e ; the retainers' sons seek new vocations and are replaced by new men whose "improvement" on the work of t h e i r predecessors i s ambiguous; and t r a d i t i o n a l customs and certainties are challenged by a p l u r a l i t y of options and ideas. In such an environment where "new forms of public opinion" offer c o n f l i c t i n g answers to the question "what i s to be done?" the e t h i c a l dimension of the 3 1Novikov, N. I. (1744-1818), Russian journalist, publisher, Freemason and philanthropist. 3 2 P i s 'ma 172-3. "HOBbie rj)opMbi o6mecTBGHHOCTH . . . [H TOT nepHojn,] Konaa nycKaeT POCTKH HHOG MkipoB033peHH£, no^TH npoTHBonojioxHoe nepBOHaMajibHOMV." novel becomes central. As we s h a l l see below, the novel's equestrian theme plays an important role i n that dimension. Gardeniny contains episodes and action which "lead nowhere," as we have suggested, i n the sense that they have no obvious role i n the plot. An example of such i s the beginning i t s e l f , where I u r i i Gardenin i s presented i n considerable d e t a i l , but quickly brushed aside, and remembered only b r i e f l y l a t e r on. As Morson argues, these episodes provide the context within which those things that do happen (such as coincidences, which defy contingency) are t r u l y momentous "because we know from experience that these events might just as readily not have happened."33 In Er t e l ' s case we have what appears to be a deliberate rejection of the notion that events take place only i n the cap i t a l s , for example, and i n the l i v e s and aspirations of the e l i t e . Thus I u r i i i s l e f t i n the novel's frame, and true events are sought i n the second chapter, far from the c a p i t a l c i t i e s , and i n the ordinary l i v e s of the people on a provincial estate. In one sense, any ethnographic sketch i n Gardeniny can also be perceived to "lead nowhere." Skabichevskii severely c r i t i c i z e d the novel because a good half of the novel i s taken up with the description of customs and way of l i f e i n the stables of a large horse farm; the author i n i t i a t e s you into a l l the genealogical deta i l s of various racers and t r o t t e r s , mutual intrigues, scheming, insults and arguments between stable hands and drivers, as well as into t h e i r l i v e s 3 3Morson, Narrative 159. outside during various sports; the l i f e of each stable hand and driver i s depicted i n f u l l d e t a i l . For this reason the novel takes on a rather stud-farm l i k e character, so that one i s from time to time confused as to who the hero i s , whether Efrem Kapitonov, Nikolai Rakhmannyi, or Krolik the s t a l l i o n . 3 4 Skabichevskii i s , of course, unfair. Only f i v e (of twenty-six) chapters are either d i r e c t l y or p a r t i a l l y concerned with those aspects he l i s t s , and there i s no doubt that Nikolai emerges as the novel's hero. Moreover, a closer look at the horse theme shows that i t plays a s i g n i f i c a n t role for reasons which are not obvious on a f i r s t reading. A l l the r e l a t i v e l y i n s i g n i f i c a n t events related to horse breeding amount to decisions and actions with profound implications. We s h a l l therefore examine the events connected with the race i n order to understand the function of an episode which might otherwise be perceived to be ent i r e l y detachable. In 1/6 we learn that Kapiton was preparing to replace his senior jockey, Onisim, with the proud and quick-tempered but able Efim, nicknamed "Gypsy." It was a well known fact that Krolik's performance was not improving with Onisim, and since the other jockeys (and the horse-trainer above a l l ) had great aspirations for money and fame, Onisim had no friends, but only a large family to take care of. The rumour of Kapiton's intentions has reached everyone but Onisim, who when dismissed can only mumble: " I beg your p a r d o n . . . . I' ve won so many 34A.M. Skabichevsky, "Literaturnaia khronika. «Gardeniny...», roman A.I. E r t e l i a , Novosti i birzhevaia gazeta 342 (14 Dec. 1890): 2 (as quoted i n Nikiforov, 79-80). awards... c e r t i f i c a t e s . . . watches; I've been mentioned i n the magazines... What's the reason?" 3 5 To his great dismay and his family's grief he i s required to leave Gardenino, and i n 11/6 Nikolai i s troubled to find him at a f a i r working as an actor i n a manner degrading to himself and his family. Thus Kapiton's minor decision to dismiss a minor employee (Onisim refers to himself as a " l i t t l e person," which stresses his place i n society, and suggests his kinship with Gogol's or Dostoyevsky's " l i t t l e folk") impoverishes a whole family, which angers Nikolai as he i s moved with pi t y at Onisim's new circumstances. At the same time, Kapiton's action secures for Krolik a promising driver, who w i l l eventually take him to the big race at Khrenovoe. A similar pattern i s repeated with I u r i i , who dismisses Kapiton himself, and l a t e r the estate manager, with no apparent thought given to the possible consequences. In II11 we have the account of Krolik's race, with which the equestrian theme culminates. By i t s e l f the description of the race was intended to be enjoyed for i t s own sake; and indeed i t was, for Gol'tsev reported that, when i n one installment the story ended at a dramatic point i n the race, telegrams arrived i n the e d i t o r i a l o f f i c e asking for the r e s u l t s . 3 6 Mirsky, too, wrote that "one of the most memorable episodes i s the account of 3 5SS v o l . 5, 161. "Ho no3BOJibTe. . . . CKOJibKO, MoxeT , MMeio Harpaa... JIHCT... Hacbi... 06o3HaneH B xypHajiax. do KaKOMy c j iy^a io?" 3 6V. G. Korolenko, Pis'ma 1888-1921 (P, 1922) 300-1. a t r o t t i n g match at Khrenovaya [ s i c ] , which holds i t s own even by the s i d e of the race scene i n Anna Karenina." 3 7 The race i s h e l d at Khrenovoe, where Kapiton has a l r e a d y a r r i v e d to i n s p e c t K r o l i k and see to i t that Efim i s sober. The r i v a l horse Groznyi i s owned by a c e r t a i n Mal'chikov, who hopes that h i s horse w i l l win the race so he can boost the r e p u t a t i o n of h i s stud farm which he would l i k e to s e l l . Suspense i s b u i l t as K a p i t o n w o r r i e s about K r o l i k ' s c o m p e t i t i o n , watches the crowds a r r i v e , t r i e s to a v o i d jockeys and other horse farmers, and looks at p o r t r a i t s of famous race horses. The d r i v e r s ' a t t i t u d e s on t h e n e x t day d i f f e r s i g n i f i c a n t l y . Groznyi's d r i v e r s i t s h a p p i l y and c o n f i d e n t l y , w h i l e Efim seems possessed by some e v i l f o r c e . When Efim was f i r s t i n t r o d u c e d to K r o l i k he had shouted at the horse w i t h unusual s e v e r i t y , so that K r o l i k would be s t i l l i n h i s presence; now as "Efim's face turned from o l i v e - c o l o u r to s a f f r o n , [and h i s ] eyes looked something between drunk and mad," Fedotka the s t a b l e hand e x p e r i e n c e d " t e r r o r l i k e never b e f o r e i n the presence of the d r i v e r . " 3 8 Efim's c o n t r o l over K r o l i k proves s u c c e s s f u l : w h i l e Groznyi leads the race u n t i l c l o s e to the end, K r o l i k overtakes him "with proud and calm assurance of h i s J /D.S. Mirsky, A H i s t o r y of Russian L i t e r a t u r e (NY: V i n t a g e Books, 1958) 352-3. 3 8 S S v o l . 6, 164. " JlMU.0 EOklMa C£e./iaJ10Cb \A3 OJlklBKOBOrO K a K M M - T O tuactipaHHbiM, r j i a 3 a 6b\m He T O nbSHbie, He T O 6eweHHbie. HkiKorzia eiye <£e,qoTKa He MyBCTBOBa/i T a x o r o C T p a x a nepe/i Hae3,HHHK0M." s t r e n g t h . . . . " 3 9 But a l a s , around midnight Fedotka announces that K r o l i k i s i l l , and soon a f t e r the horse d i e s . K r o l i k ' s death, which comes as a s u r p r i s e and causes c o n s i d e r a b l e g r i e f , i s h i g h l y symbolic, and draws a t t e n t i o n to the s p e c i a l r o l e of the race i n the n o v e l . As Kapiton made every e f f o r t to win the race and b r i n g about c l o s u r e ( r e f l e c t e d i n Efim's s i n i s t e r c o n t r o l over K r o l i k ) , the h o r s e ' s death stands as a reminder that the race, l i k e l i f e , i s meant to be open, and that small d e c i s i o n s matter. In h i s study of the race scene i n Anna Karenina. Georg Lukacs w r i t e s that i n T o l s t o y ' s n o vel the race represents "a c r i s i s i n a great drama, " u n l i k e the race scene i n Zola's Nana, which was more of a d e l i n e a t e d s k e t c h . 4 0 In Gardeniny the race has a great deal to do with the p l o t , f o r K r o l i k ' s death foreshadows the death of Efrem's mother ( i n the next chapter), who d i e s of a stroke when Kapiton curses Efrem f o r c o n f r o n t i n g him over h i s mistreatment of Fedotka. In sum, Kapiton's d e s i r e f o r c o n t r o l and f a i l u r e to a t t e n d to the l e s s e r d e c i s i o n s i n e v i t a b l y ( f o r contingency i s thwarted) r e s u l t i n f u r t h e r l o s s : a f t e r h i s mother's death Efrem decides to leave Gardenino. 3 9 S S v o l . 6, 168. "C TOp/tblM M CnOKORHbIM C03H8HHGM CBOeFl CM/lbl" 4 0 G e o r g Lukacs, W r i t e r and C r i t i c and Other Essays (NY: Grosset and Dunlap, 1970) 110-11. 97 Dialogue In addition to different forms of confrontation, Gardeniny i s concerned with dialogue. Nikiforov has written that Gardeniny i s f i r s t and foremost a novel of ideas, i n which characters either stand or f a l l i n accordance with t h e i r capacity to reason. 4 1 While i t i s true that the novel i s philosophical, clear d i s t i n c t i o n s between individuals of greater and weaker capacity to reason are blurred i n t h i s work where the oppositions presented to the reader do not produce mere synthesis, but together display a f i e l d of p o s s i b i l i t i e s . Here we s h a l l examine closely the way i n which the novel's pairs or "doubles," either through open discourse or some other structural means, confront one another philosophically. We s h a l l observe how an enlightened world view confronts "ignorance," and how two religious sectarians, two prie s t s , and f i n a l l y two merchants present c o n f l i c t i n g options. Agei Danilych the clerk i s the most educated man i n the Gardenino community, and i s respected for his honesty, learning and sobriety. As a young man he had been severely punished on account of his love for F e l i t s a t a Nikanorovna (the housekeeper), so that he i s now a rather s o l i t a r y man. As an admirer of Voltaire, Agei i s the resident unbeliever, and for this reason the subject of (particularly) Kapiton's r i d i c u l e . On one occasion Kapiton provokes him, saying: 4lNikiforov, "Tvorchestvo A. I. E r t e l i a , " 69. 'And you, Freemason, say there's no God. . . . But look at the beauty a l l around us... How lovely and marvelous i t i s ! ' . . . 'It's nature, i f you care to know,' answered Agei Danilych, . . . 'ignorance c a l l s i t the work of God.'42 In Agei's vocabulary "ignorance" i s what "nature" must contend with. "Is i t r e a l l y a s i n , " he asks i n a discussion of fasting, " i f I had ham on Friday? Now i f I starve myself . . . or stuff my stomach with radishes that's a true s i n , since I would be sinning against nature i t s e l f . " 4 3 On one occasion Kapiton dictates to him, i n religious language, a l e t t e r to Efrem: " T e l l . . . [him] to fast, attend divine service and partake of the holy mysteries every year without f a i l . For i f God has mercy on sinners, then how much more w i l l he on those who keep his laws." 4 4 Agei suggests an alternative version: Who writes such ignorance, especially to an educated man. . . . Here's how [you should put i t ] : "Through humble conviction and b e l i e f I advise you, my dear son, not to neglect the practices of the Catholic r e l i g i o n , but to carry out with f a i r diligence that which [ i t ] prescribes with regards to the l i t u r g y , confession, and part i c i p a t i o n i n the sacrament. You w i l l through th i s observance do a pleasant deed for your parents, and according to our f a i t h pleasing to the Creator. For the Creator made a l l that i s for good and for the sake of the excellent and proper florescence of nature. 4 5 4 2SS v o l . 5, 79. 4 3SS v o l . 5, 90. "YxejiH cue ccwTeTCfl 3a r p e x , KOJIH a B nflTHHu,y BeTHMHbi noej i? BOT e x e j w a ro j io i ioM npwBoxy ce6a B yHbiHHe, ecroMaK pejibKofi HafiHBaio, BTO nozuiHHHO r p e x : noinexe r p e w y npoTHB caMofi HaTypbi. . . ." 4 4SS v o l . 5, 90. "BbiBoaM . . . roBeTb xe Te6e, CWH MOH E r j )peM, a TaKOxae w n p n o 6 m a T b C f l CBATWX H CTpawHbix TaHH 6ecnpeMeHH0 KaxuHHbifi r o a . M 6 o exej iH rocnoinb rpewHHKOB MMJiyeT, TO KOJibMH na^e cofijuoaaiomHX npaBHJia," Although h i s i n s t r u c t i o n s have l o s t t h e i r f o r c e , Kapiton cannot help but agree to Agei's v e r s i o n , saying: "Not bad, c l e v e r . " 4 6 A l a s i t i s nature i t s e l f which k i l l s Agei, as he i s the f i r s t v i c t i m of the c h o l e r a epidemic which comes through Gardenino i n the summer of 1 8 7 1 . In h i s death we see a p a r a l l e l w i t h Turgenev's Bazarov, who s i m i l a r l y , as an u n b e l i e v e r , d i e s the v i c t i m of an i n f e c t i o n . The sad i r o n y i n Agei ' s case i s t h a t he can o n l y counter the "ignorance" around him w i t h a n a t u r a l determinism, r e f l e c t e d i n h i s words as he l i e s dying: "I d e l i b e r a t e l y maintain that there won't be anything. . . . You f o o l y o u r s e l v e s w i t h f a b l e s . " 4 7 Thus the f r e e t h i n k e r b o l d l y , but d e f i a n t l y , meets h i s end without the l a s t r i t e s as the woman he loved pleads: "Ageiushko, . . . Father G r i g o r i i i s on h i s way . . . depart with God's g r a c e ! " 4 8 Between atheism and presumably s u p e r s t i t i o u s b e l i e f stand two important f i g u r e s : Ivan Fedotych and A r e f i i Suknoval. I f i n The B r o t h e r s Karamazov, as one c r i t i c has o b s e r v e d , 4 9 Dostoyevsky d e a l t with two ways of Orthodoxy, namely the k e n o t i c and the r i g o r o u s (through Zosima and Ferapont, r e s p e c t i v e l y ) , E r t e l p r e s e n t s a roughly corresponding p a i r through Ivan and 4 5 S S v o l . 5 , 9 1 . 4 6 S S v o l . 5 , 9 1 . "HkiMero, J IOBKO." 4 7 S S v o l . 5 , 3 0 8 . "HapoMMTO yTBepx^aio, M T O Hkmero He 6y^eT-c. . . BacHSiMM ziypaMMTecb. . . . " 4 8 S S v o l . 5 , 3 0 9 . "AreowKO. . . B O T OTeu, TpMropMPi ce fmac npneiieT . . . O T O R ^ M c 6^aro^aTbD!" 4 9 A . Menn, Radostnaia vest' (Moscow: V i t a - T s e n t r , 1 9 9 2 ) 3 0 9 . 100 A r e f i i . E r t e l ' s intent was to convey a sense of the "underground current of thought," 5 0 but fearing censorship he admitted that there was a great deal about which he was forced to remain s i l e n t . Nevertheless, through Ivan Fedotych and A r e f i i Suknoval i s presented the dialogue between two types of religious dissent. Before we meet the two i n conversation we know very l i t t l e about them: A r e f i i i s said to be "devising a new f a i t h , " 5 1 and i s described as a thinking, l i t e r a t e muzhik who loves to t a l k about God, while Martin Lukianych admires the old joiner, Ivan Fedotych, but thinks of him as lazy. On th i s occasion, which we learn i s t h e i r t h i r d meeting, A r e f i i makes his commitment to the Bible quite clear. When Nikolai refuses milk (because i t i s a time of fasting) A r e f i i looks at him s a r c a s t i c a l l y and accuses him of not knowing the Scriptures. Nikolai objects, saying, "So do you think we don't need to go to church e i t h e r ? , " 5 2 and A r e f i i has an appropriate quotation from the Bible: Go to Jerusalem, as well as church, i f you l i k e . . . . Have you not read that "the time w i l l come and has now come, when the true worshippers w i l l worship the Father i n s p i r i t and i n truth, for such worshippers seeks the Father to worship Him?" 5 3 5 0 P i s 'ma 128. "no j iBOZiHoe TeHSHHe" 5 1SS v o l . 5, 98. "[HIOBVIO B e p y o f i A y M b i B a e T " 5 2SS v o l . 5, 104. "3TaK TW n p H a y M a e w b , MTO H B uepKOBb He H a a o x o j i H T b ? " 5 3SS v o l . 5, 104. (John 4:23) 101 Then he explains to Ivan, picking up on t h e i r previous conversation, that he agrees with Isaac the Syrian's understanding of h e l l as temporary, for I John 4:16 teaches that "God i s love," while i n I Corinthians 13: 4-8 St. Paul writes that "love bears a l l things, believes a l l things, hopes a l l things, endures a l l things." Ivan complains that A r e f i i loves to c i t e texts, and wonders what he makes of the Church council which proclaimed Origen's b e l i e f i n the temporary nature of h e l l as h e r e t i c a l . "I don't accept the c o u n c i l s , " 5 4 responds A r e f i i . As the conversation proceeds, the opposition between contemplative and dogmatic ways of r e l i g i o n becomes more evident. "With what wisdom i s God's world made! Why a l l the quarrelling, i n s u l t s , l i e s and hatred?" 5 5 A r e f i i responds with his messianic hope that the reign of the "prince of darkness" w i l l soon end, t e l l i n g of a certain community where people l i v e i n brotherhood, orphans are taken care of, the hungry are fed, and there i s no vice: proof of the effi c a c y of l i f e according to the Scriptures. 5 6 w i t h t h i s A r e f i i challenges Ivan to get to work, for the "harvest i s plenty and the labourers are few," 5 4SS v o l . 5, 105. "51 BcejieHCKHM co6opaM He Bepio. . . ," The Church Council referred to i s Constantinople, 553. 5 5SS v o l . 5, 107. "CKOJib M y s p o ycTpoeH MHp BOXHH! . . , fljifl Merc, noayMaeiub, o6Haa, Jioxb, MejioBeKOHeHaBHCTHHMecTBO?. . ," 5 6The particular community referred to here i s probably the branch of the "Molokan" Sect (see footnote 60) which F. Conybeare refers to as one of the "Communists." These evangelical sectarians l i v e d according to the model of the Early Church as described i n the Book of Acts. Russian Dissenters (New York: Russell and Russell, 1962) 327ff. 1 0 2 cease to serve the d e v i l , and "take up his cross." 5 7 A l l along Ivan either agrees, raises a minor q u a l i f i c a t i o n , or appeals to a more prosaic s p i r i t u a l i t y : "You see those churches? The church b e l l s w i l l be c a l l i n g the people to mass, and to pray for th e i r sins. . . . " 5 8 E r t e l took great pains to i n s i s t on Ivan Fedotych's authenticity when Chertkov c r i t i c i z e d his p o r t r a i t of him as not "true to l i f e . " While pleased with A r e f i i , Chertkov accused E r t e l of placing i n Ivan his own views, for simple sectarians whom Ivan represented could not have shared his "Renan-like h i s t o r i c a l - a r t i s t i c view of the Church." 5 9 E r t e l reminded Chertkov that the time depicted was not the present, but 1 8 7 0 (actually i t was 1 8 7 1 ) , when relations between the priest and peasants were not so hostile, and when the church's cupolas and be l l s " s i g n i f i e d what they ought to: the passing forms of the great essence that l i v e s i n each s o u l . " 6 0 Moreover, Ivan was not a simple peasant, but a "wisdom lover" (liubomudr) who was well-read, had l i v e d abroad, and had developed the i n c l u s i v i s t attitude towards people of other faiths as expressed i n his notion that "[n]ot only Christians, but Jews, Turks and heathens 5 7 S S v o l . 5 , 1 0 8 - 9 . " x a T B a Be jWKa, a XHeuoB H6Tym. . . . K p e c T b Ha ce6s\ npMHflTb. . . ." (Matthew 9 : 3 7 ; Mark 8 : 3 4 ) 5 8 S S v o l . 5 , 1 0 8 . "BMjiHiiJb. . . x p a M b i [sic] EOXHH... BOT MajieHbKO roafl r y j i n o f U e T KOJioKOJibHbifl: HapoztyujKO K BeMepHAM n o n j i e T e T c a . . . MOJiMTbca o r p e x a x . . . . " 5 9Pis'ma 1 2 2 . "PeHaHOBCKMH HCTopHMecKO-nefteaxHbiH B3rjifl,a Ha uepKOBb." 6Qpis 'ma 1 2 5 . "03HaMaJIH TO, HTO MM M HyxHO 03Ha<naTb: npexosflmHe $opMbi TOH BejiHKOH c y m H o c T H , KOTopaf l x w e e T B aywe Kaxjioro HejioBeKa." 103 have the spark of God and His love i n t h e i r hearts." 6 1 For his acceptance of milk during the fast and frequent appeals to Scripture one might id e n t i f y A r e f i i with the Molokan sect, which was distinguished for the primacy i t gave to Scripture (above t r a d i t i o n ) , i t s iconoclastic rejection of sacraments (their name derived from "milk" for t h e i r acceptance of milk when i t was forbidden by the f a s t ) , and b e l i e f i n the m i l l e n i a l reign of Christ on earth. 6 2 Towards the end of the novel we find that A r e f i i has gained a convert, for Ivan joins his religious community. Their coming together on A r e f i i ' s t e r r i t o r y i s ultimately ambiguous, however. On the one hand Nikolai reacts negatively, for i n his view A r e f i i ' s dogmatic (today we might say "fundamentalist") form of religious practice seems unnatural. On the other hand Ivan seems to have found authentic religious practice among his more rigorous brethren (and indeed they are seeing to the needs of the community and refraining from v i c e ) . Perhaps, given that there was room for d i v e r s i t y of opinion and practice, Ivan chose to join A r e f i i not because i t was "required," but because i t was "allowed." We r e c a l l that when offered milk he had said "I see no sin i n i t , but I won't take i t . " 6 3 The issue of dogma raised e a r l i e r i n t h e i r discussion was l e f t unanswered: when 6 1SS V O l . 5, 112. "He TOKMO V X p H C T M a H , — y X.HA0B, y T y p O K , y fl3bNHHK0B K O T o p w x — y ecex HCKpa Boxwfl, y scex 3axxeHa jiioBoBb B cepaiie." 6 2Conybeare, 291. 63ss v o l . 5, 104. " p p e x a B BTOM He B H x y , HO He noTpeQj i f l io . " 104 to l d that an eternal h e l l was incompatible with a God of love Ivan had pointed out how problematic i t was to always appeal to Scripture and books. 6 4 Two pries t s , whom we meet i n 1/10, present a picture of the established church i n t r a n s i t i o n . The fact that they are placed i n competition with one another, i n much the same way as are Ivan and A r e f i i , i s made e x p l i c i t i n the chapter's subheading: "Father G r i g o r i i and Father Aleksandr, and which of the two i s better." 6 5 The younger priest i s introduced as he i s celebrating the l i t u r g y . A large, well-fed man with chubby cheeks, bulging eyes and a bright red but sparse growth for a beard, Father Aleksandr "celebrated with grandeur," and his "thick shoulders sometimes shook as though he f e l t epaulettes on them."66 His thick, heavy hand holds the cross and raises the cup too freely, as though he has not yet "adapted" to his o f f i c e . 6 7 w i t h these deta i l s we rea l i z e that the new priest i n town was a confident, but inexperienced man who was aware of his important status. His teaching on the Holy T r i n i t y following the l i t u r g y r e f l e c t s his recent training i n dogmatic theology and, as he admits, his desire to instruct the people. 6 4SS v o l . 5, 105. " B e e H3 nncaHMfl, ece H3 KHHr!" 6 5SS v o l . 5, 231. "OTeu, r p M r o p w f l H OTeu, A j i e K c a H a p H KTO H3 HHX Jiynuje?" 6 6SS v o l . 5, 247-8. " c j i y x m i BecbMa 6jiarojienHO"; " [ e r o ] ruioTHbie njieHH BCTpflXHBaJIHCb, T3K, K3K 6 y 4 T 0 HVBCTBQBaJIH H3 Ce6e 3nOJieTbl. . . ." 6 7SS v o l . 5, 248. "npHcnoco6HTbCfl" 105 Fr. G r i g o r i i represents the old school of c l e r i c s . As he comments when he and Fr. Aleksandr (his son-in-law) are guests at Martin Lukianych's home: Just think, Lukianych . . . what they taught us! We'd go over and over our hermeneutics and homiletics, get thrashed as slaves of the Lord with countless stinging rods. That's proper learning, I say. You won't believe who we studied. Feofan Prokopovich. Yes. But Aleksandr just made i t through Macarius, sat down and cranked out a sermon i n half an hour. 6 8 While his training might be outdated (although Prokopovich was a progressive for his time), as well as his customs (he thrusts his hand to his host's l i p s , while Fr. Aleksandr avoids the ceremony), Fr. G r i g o r i i does not display the arrogance of his son-in-law with regards to manual labour or the people: The people are growing poor. . . . You come, celebrate, you're handed a ten copeck piece, and you f e e l ashamed to accept i t . . . . Only by means of labour, only by means of callouses have I earned my sustenance, I say. 6 9 Father Aleksandr, on the other hand, thinks that such work i s not proper for a p r i e s t : "Think about i t , Martin Lukianych, how i s my parishioner going to respect me i f I smell, pardon my expression, of cow manure? In Europe they look down on such a thing." 7 0 6 8SS, v o l . 5, 253-4. F. Prokopovich (1681-1736), Archbishop of Novgorod i n 1720, supporter of Peter the Great's reforms; Macarius (1482-1563), Metropolitan of Moscow i n 1542 and compiler of Chet'i minei (a c o l l e c t i o n of religious texts arranged for reading throughout the year). 6 9 s s v o l . 5 , 2 5 4 . 106 Fr. Aleksandr had t r i e d to win the approval of Nikolai and Martin Lukianych. At the end of his sermon he had impressed and given Martin a sense of importance as he spoke of those " g i f t s . . . which determine our special vocation and place among our fellow men," which included that of "overseeing, building, and governing the estate. . . . " 7 1 Once at the Rakhmannyis' home he commends Nikolai for assisting his father, but just as quickly changes his mind i n Nikolai's favour when the l a t t e r says that he finds other forms of learning more productive. By the end of the v i s i t neither Nikolai nor his father i s fond of the new pr i e s t . A fourth dialogue takes place on the secular front, where two merchants are juxtaposed. The f i r s t i s Kosma V a s i l i e v i c h Rukodeev, a wealthy merchant who impresses Nikolai by speaking to him as an equal, addressing him by his name and patronymic and shaking his hand. On business, and waiting for Martin Lukianych's return, Rukodeev reads a poem Nikolai has written and c r i t i c i z e s i t s outdated theme and poor rhyme scheme, but encourages Nikolai to continue writing. Rukodeev, Nikolai notices, "glanced at his massive golden watch, slowly pulled out of one pocket his massive s i l v e r cigarette case, and from the other his massive amber cigarette holder," 7 2 then offers Nikolai 7 0SS, v o l . 5, 255: "nacyjiMTe, MaptMH JlyKbflHMbN, Katcoe KQ MHe rjyaeT yeaxeHne OT npHxoxaHHHa, ecjiw a, c no3BOJiGHneM CKa3aTb, 6yjiy KopoBbMM HaB030M naxHyTb? B EBpone Ha STO He T3K CMOTPAT." 7 1SS vo l . 5, 249. "TajiaHTbi, KOTopbiMH onpejiejieHO Haiue oco6oe npn3BaHne H MecTo B Kpyry Hawwx 6JIMXHHX. . . . MHOMy [TBopeu,] aapoBaji TajiaHT HajunpaTb 3a nopajiKOM, jiOMOCTpoMTejibCTBOBaTb, npHofimaTb npenopyMeHHoe rocnoaHHOM HMeHne. . . ." 107 a cigarette. A l l of th i s impresses the young man, who i s most honoured when Rukodeev promises to lend him Darwin and Nekrasov, 7 3 and invites him to town. He i n s i s t s that a l l men are c i t i z e n s and "brothers," including the peasant, and deals i n a very c i v i l i z e d manner, as i t seems to his new admirer: instead of swearing and asking for special consideration, he simply and p o l i t e l y speaks of the "state of the market i n London, the over-development of sheep-breeding i n A u s t r a l i a , " 7 4 and other such things which make him sound informed and cultured. As the business dealings progress, however, Rukodeev and Martin Lukianych become increasingly drunk, and Rukodeev admits to a certain inconsistency: "We drink because we're swine.... We s i t on the peasant's necks. . . . Don't follow our example. . . . We' re descended from apes... It's been proven." 7 5 Once at Rukodeev's home Nikolai i s t o l d not to bother with Pushkin, who "has long been consigned to the rubbish b i n , " 7 6 and i s given about twenty "progressive" books for his "development." 7 2SS v o l . 5 , 1 2 9 . "nocMOTpeji Ha CBOH MaccHBHbie 30JioTbie Macw, He e n e m a Bbmy j i M3 oaHoro KapMaHa MaccMBHbiH cepef jp f lHb i f i n o p T c n r a p , M3 a p y r o r o - -MaCCHBHblH AHTapHblM MyHJILUT yK. . . ." 7 3Nekrasov, N.A. ( 1 8 2 1 - 7 8 ) , Poet of the "Realist School" i n Russian poetry who depicted the hard l i f e of the peasants i n his work. 7 4SS v o l . 5 , 1 3 6 . "nojioxeHHe pbiHKa B M H Z O H Z , Ha Mpe3MepHoe p33BMTHe OBUeBOtfCTBa B ABCTpa j lHH" 7 5SS v o l . 5 , 1 3 8 . " n o T O M y H nbeM, MTO CBHHbH... Ha w e e Hapo^Hofi CHAMM. . , . He 6epHTe c Hac npMMep. . . , Bee M3 o6e3bflHbiL. 3TO jnoKasaHO. . . ." 7 6SS v o l . 5 , 1 9 8 . "i iaBHO y x B xjiaM caajiH" 108 In II/6 Nikolai meets the other merchant, I l ' i a Finogenych (an ironmonger by trade), who invites him home. There Nikolai finds unusual cleanliness and order, and that his host i s indeed a lover of books (as Rukodeev had said). Mirroring Rukodeev, he suggests that Nikolai read Pushkin, "immerse [him]self i n books, work and l i f e " and "chisel away [at ignorance] . . . while you have the strength!" 7 7 During the cholera epidemic, he says, he helped organize a committee for r e l i e f work. It was only a "drop i n the ocean," but the sense of "community grows a l l the same, which i s a great t h i n g . " 7 8 He then invites Nikolai to learn his trade as his apprentice, after which he can open his own shop. "Dealing i n iron products i s an honourable thing to do," he pronounces, and he concludes with what could be his motto: "Horseshoes, axes and pitchforks are my wares, and books are my f r i e n d s . " 7 9 We quote extensively here because I l ' i a Finogenych's choice of words i s s i g n i f i c a n t : "chisel away" and "drop i n the sea" are indicative of his p r a c t i c a l , "small deeds" philosophy. When Nikolai i s working for him several months l a t e r , he reiterates his hopeful philosophy: One hardly expects, planting an oak tree, to enjoy i t s shade, but plants i t anyway. . . . Every 7 7 S S V O l . 6, 149-50. "BHHK3H B KHHTH, B JieJia, B 5KH3HH . . . iZOJI^ H [HeB65K6CTBO] . . . nOKa CHJI XB3THT. ..." 7 8 S S v o l . 6, 150. "Kanjifl B Mope, . . . [HO] rpaxaaHCTBeHHOCTb pa3BMBaeTCfl, BOT HTO Bojibiuoe aejio," 7 9 S S v o l . 6, 151. "xejie3Hafl ToproBJia Bce-TaKM npHCTpofma. ... Y MeHfl noiiKOBbi, Tonopw, BMJibi—TOBap, a KHHrH—apy3bfl." 109 idea grows and gives f r u i t . Look at history, and r e c a l l Novikov and Radishchev... Was not serfdom a t e r r i b l e thing? But we didn't doubt, and dared to dream against i t , and planted the dream... And we reap the f r u i t s ! 8 0 A f i f t h "double" i s made up of Nikolai and Efrem, whose li v e s represent two options for the young i n t e l l e c t u a l of the time. Their interaction w i l l be considered i n the t h i r d section. Gol'tsev wrote that E r t e l depicted the currents of religious thought not only with knowledge of his subject, but with l o v e . 8 1 Indeed E r t e l refrains from resolving the issues i n favour of one side or another i n various ways. In Agei's case his freethinking option has the strength accorded to the minority, where the t r a d i t i o n a l majority view has o s s i f i e d and become intolerant of hesitation and doubt. Moreover, his circumstances evoke sympathy, and his honesty, learning and consistency earn him the community's respect. In the case of the two sectarians the dialogue i s sustained by unresolved issues. Likewise, when his old priest's ways are being challenged by "progressive" ones (which presumably might make the Church more dynamic) Nikolai i s puzzled and asks "How can you compare them?" F i n a l l y , whereas I l ' i a Finogenych creates a better impression than his double, Rukodeev nevertheless plays 8 0SS v o l . 6, 259. A.N. Radishchev (1749-1802), writer and ( l i k e Novikov) a freemason. For his A Journey from Petersburg to Moscow, 1790, he was exiled to Siberia after Catherine found the work subversive. 8 1Gol'tsev, "Literatura i zhizn'" 203. 110 an important role i n Nikolai's development, and even recognizes his own weakness. Ultimately what renders the novel "polyphonic" and the various views of l i f e genuine options i s the fact that each character i s most authentic when using his own d i s t i n c t i v e voice. A rather amusing instance of the f a i l u r e to do so i s found i n Kapiton's "authoritative" discourse (in the l e t t e r he dictates to Agei), which Agei harshly dubs "ignorant." Agei, i n the meantime, i s compelled to put i n sophisticated terms what i s being dictated to him. Thus God's mercy on sinners, for instance, i s rendered i n terms of human enlightenment. A r e f i i Suknoval's appeal to the authority of Scripture i s s i m i l a r l y challenged by Ivan Fedotych, who encourages him not to "quote from books," but (by implication) to use his own words. Ivan Fedotych uses his own language by ( r e ) t e l l i n g stories, which frees him from the l i m i t s imposed by propositional language. Progress Ultimately d i v e r s i t y and dialogue i n the novel do not exist for t h e i r own sake. Rather, they provide the context for a divinely-guided quest for authenticity. As early as September 1885 E r t e l had explained to Tolstoy that he wished to write a saint's l i f e , i n which there would be "less mysticism and more authentic, holy deeds." 8 2 This intention was to a great extent f u l f i l l e d i n Gardeniny, i n which his hero i s guided through a 8 2 P i s 'ma 56. "noMeHbwe MHCTHKM, a noffojiee nojuiHHHoro, CBflToro aejia." series of mentorships towards greater insight and maturity, and i n which, as he wrote to Gol'tsev four years l a t e r , the reader might find "much that was i n s t r u c t i v e . " 8 3 In the remainder of th i s chapter we s h a l l discuss that aspect which relates to the author's didactic impulse: Nikolai's story, and the relationship between his l i f e and the authentic Christian l i f e (as understood by E r t e l ) . The Nikolai we meet i n Part I (which covers approximately fi v e months) i s a young man who, l i k e many budding i n t e l l e c t u a l s of the time, i s having the foundation of God and t r a d i t i o n pulled out from under him. We learn that he had never read the gospels and knew only a synopsis of the Old and New Testaments, but that u n t i l his meeting with Rukodeev, his f i r s t mentor, he f a i t h f u l l y practiced the Orthodox r e l i g i o n : he took great pleasure i n attending the l i t u r g y , and sensed the wonder and joy as he prayed and went to early mass. As the narrator t e l l s us, Nikolai enjoyed the "glorious, brisk morning, the dawnbreak on the pale sky, the steppe . . . [and] the grand but dismal lenten b e l l s . " 8 4 At the same time, "[h]e unconsciously took i n and put into practice everything that seemed to him bright, joyous, pleasant, . . ." 8 5 so that he never thought of sc r u t i n i z i n g his b e l i e f s . Sometimes his soul was even moved with dreams "of l i f e 8 3 P i s 'ma 172. "MHoro n o y H M T e j i b H o r o " 8 4SS v o l . 5, 123. "CjiaeHwft YTpEHHMft xoAozioK, 33psj Ha 0j?e,aHOM «e6e, crenb . . . [H] BaXHO yHblJIblfi BejlHKOnOCTHblM 3B0H. . . ." 8 5SS v o l . 5, 121. "OH 6ecco3HaTejibHo BnHTbiBaji B ceSfl w n p e T B o p a j i Bee, MTO Ka3ajlOCb eMy CBeTJlblM, pajHOCTHblM, npMflTHblM. . . ." 112 after death, great s p i r i t u a l feats and repentance," 8 6 as reflected i n part i n the poem which Rukodeev was to c r i t i c i z e : I sought the Saviour's face i n wandering gazes, And with my tears washed my perishable garments, Tears, pour out as a stream, and prayer, flow from my l i p s , And God, hear my prayers, and l e t not my tears flow i n v a i n . 8 7 But more often than not his soul, the narrator t e l l s us, was moved by "dreams which had nothing to do with l i f e after death at a l l . " 8 8 Rukodeev, of course, catches Nikolai off-guard, for Nikolai accepts without question his progressive "reading l i s t , " his b e l i e f s that f a i t h i s obsolete and that human beings descended from apes. As there are "other dreams" on Nikolai's mind, however, Rukodeev's smoking accessories impress him just as much as his ideas, and soon his thoughts are on Grun'ka. By the time he meets the two priests only a month la t e r , Nikolai has written some verses on the sad l o t of the peasants, and i s expressing his preference for "useful" subjects. "There are, i n a l l probability," he t e l l s Fr. Aleksandr, "more productive f i e l d s of study. . . . I think natural science or p o l i t i c a l economics would be of far more benefit to c i v i l i z a t i o n than agriculture." Then he remarks i n words which would make Rukodeev proud: "I regard science as the powerful engine of 8 6SS V O l . 5 , 126. "0 3arpo6HOH XH3HM> 0 nOilBMXHHMeCTBe, 0 nOKaflHHH" 8 7SS v o l . 5 , 126. 8 8SS v o l . 5 , 126. "coBceM He o 3arpo6HoPi XM3HH" p r o g r e s s . . . . " 8 9 The s e c u l a r i z a t i o n process t a k i n g p l a c e i n s o c i e t y i s underscored by the i n a b i l i t y of the p r i e s t s to o f f e r a r e b u t t a l . Father Aleksandr simply adapts, l i k e a chameleon, to the person he wishes to please, and Fr. G r i g o r i i , whose prayers i n church N i k o l a i remembers, seems to belong to the past. For f u r t h e r mentorship N i k o l a i turns o u t s i d e the church, although at t h i s p o i n t he v i s i t s Ivan Fedotych because he l i k e s to hear him t e l l s t o r i e s , not because he i s a man of l e a r n i n g and s p i r i t u a l i n s i g h t . In f a c t he puts Ivan down as a "mystic." Thus on one o c c a s i o n N i k o l a i v i s i t s him (with T a t ' i a n a , Ivan's y o u t h f u l wife, present) and gets i n t o an argument over whether k i l l i n g i s j u s t i f i e d under any circumstances. Ivan i n s i s t s t h a t " i f one i s permitted to k i l l then there i s no s i n , and nothing to repent o f , " 9 0 whereas N i k o l a i responds t h a t i n some cases k i l l i n g i s the l e s s e r of two e v i l s . N i k o l a i has known Rukodeev f o r o n l y two months, but al r e a d y he f i n d s no meaning i n Ivan's r e l i g i o u s language ("sin, soul, repentance, h e l l and heaven" 9 1) . On t h i s p a r t i c u l a r v i s i t , however, N i k o l a i does not wish to p r o l o n g the debate because he f e e l s drawn to T a t ' i a n a , and he decides to f i n d common ground: I understand that v i o l e n c e i s inhumane. . . . 8 9 S S v o l . 5 , 2 5 3 . " E d b , nO B C e R B S p O S T H O C T M , H BoJiee n p O ^ y K T M B H b l G [HayKM]. . . . £ ayMao, e c T e c T B 0 3 H a H n e \AJ\V\ n o j i H T k m e c K a s i SKOHOMMSI H e t / i 3 M e p H o Jiymue c o ^ e f i c T B y o T u,MBki/iM3au,MM, Hexe/iM c e ; i b C K o e XOSSIRCTBO. . . . 5\ n o H W M a i o H a y K y K a K MorymecTBeHHbitf / i B M r a i e j i b nporpecca. . . . " 9 0 S S V O l . 5 , 2 6 3 . "KO/IM y6MTb B 0 3 M 0 X H 0 , 3 H a M M T , M Tpexa H e T y , 3 H a M M T , H K a f l T b c a He B M e M ? " 9 1 s s v o l . 5 , 2 6 4 . Mywa, rpex, noKasiHkie, QM, paR" 1 1 4 But on the other hand, Ivan Fedotych, i n the papers they're predicting that so many w i l l die i n the cholera epidemic... and for what reason? 9 2 Ivan appeals to the book of Job: "the Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord," 9 3 while Nikolai looks "daringly" at his wife, and says: "I agree e n t i r e l y . . . . Essen t i a l l y , l i f e i s nothing. . . . It a l l amounts to t h i s : one must see to i t that l i f e does not pass us by i n vain, and that i t might be remembered for something." 9 4 This comment does not s a t i s f y Ivan, who proceeds to t e l l his story of "Faustin the Wise," a version of the Faust legend which t e l l s us more about Ivan (as we s h a l l see towards the end of the chapter), since Nikolai pays l i t t l e attention as his thoughts are on Tat'iana, while hers are on her own desire for some "yet unexperienced and unprecedented happiness." 9 5 Only the end of the story, apparently, affects the l i s t e n e r s : when Faust's curse i s removed because of his earnest prayer Tat'iana bursts into tears (she t e l l s Ivan that i t ' s because he t e l l s stories with such passion), while Nikolai (motivated by Tat'iana's tears, perhaps, or the notion that " i f a l l i s forgiven, a l l i s permitted"), "suddenly found i n himself the 9 2 S S v o l . 5 , 2 6 4 . 9 3 S S v o l . 5 , 2 6 4 . "OH aaji, OH H B3flJi, rjyaH HMA Ero SjiarocjiOBeHHo!" 9 4 S S v o l . 5 , 2 6 5 . "C 3THM fl tOBepuieHHO corjiaceH. . . . CootTBtHHO roBopa, XH3Hb—KoneHKa. . . . Becb Bonpoc B TOM, JiHiub 6w OHa 3pfl He noujjia, 6biJio 6w ee MeM nOMflHVTb. . . ." 9 5 S S v o l . 5 , 2 7 1 "K3Koro-TO He HcnbiTaHHoro, He BHaaHHono cMacTbfl. . . 115 desire to carry out the wildest and unbelievable deeds." 9 6 And, indeed, Nikolai reminds Ivan of some unfinished business, and takes the opportunity i n Ivan's absence to seduce Tat'iana. Shortly after, reluctant to speak again with Ivan, he hurries past him with a look of "fear, shame and dismay." 9 7 Later the shame turns to hatred when Tat'iana rejects his advances. While the cholera's aftermath i s a thing of the past for many i n Gardenino by winter ( s t i l l 1871), the epidemic and other events and impressions i n Nikolai's l i f e "took deep root i n his so u l . " 9 8 i n some respects he had turned over a new leaf, and indeed Part II i s the story of Nikolai's gradual re b i r t h . The story of Nikolai's progress i s the account of his growing a b i l i t y to "enter l i f e , " which for E r t e l was marked by the growing capacity to love and to know.99 To look for decisive moments of conversion i n Nikolai's l i f e would be, according to the notion of gradual regeneration, to miss the point. It i s only towards the end of the novel, i n fact, that he i s "confirmed" with Finogenych's blessing as he i s sent out to do good deeds for his "suffering brother." 1 0 0 This understanding of "coming to the l i g h t " i s consistent with 9 6SS v o l . 5, 274. " B a p y r 3aM6Tmi B ce6e KaKyio- TO onpoMeT^HByio roTOBHOcTb Ha caMbie JIMKMG H HGBepof lTHbie nocTyriKH." 9 7SS v o l . 5, 279. " y x a c a , C T b i j i a , p a c T e p f l H H O C T H " 9 8SS v o l . 6, 30. "3ajiGrjin GMy B j i y n i y " "pis'ma 133. lOOss v o l . 6, 275. "CTpaz ia io iUGro B p a T a " E r t e l ' s own experience (and i t goes without saying that Nikolai's story i s i n various respects autobiographical), for he understood development as taking place more by means of completion and inclusion than by rejection of previously held b e l i e f s . The f i r s t signs of Nikolai's rebirth are found i n his sense of oneness with the people. He had begun d i l i g e n t l y to teach Fedotka to read, had written an a r t i c l e which dealt with the epidemic, Fr. Aleksandr's high fees, divisions i n Annenskoe, bribery, and general disrespect for the people, and was now unable to carry out properly his duties as estate manager's son because he had d i f f i c u l t y being s t r i c t and c o l l e c t i n g fines. Indeed his attraction to Grun'ka i s indicative not only of his youth, but of his close relationship with the people (who even c a l l him "Mikolka"). For such fraternizing he i s severely chastized by his father, who nevertheless "understands:" "I r e a l i z e you're at that age. . . . Go and buy a shawl or something." 1 0 1 Ultimately Martin's authority and class barriers win out, and Grun'ka becomes for Nikolai only a fond memory. Nikolai's next "stage" i s brought about by his t h i r d mentor, Efrem, who returns to Gardenino i n the spring (1872) and finds i n Nikolai, whose a r t i c l e he has just read, signs of "liberating ideas" 1 0 2 and a potential r e c r u i t i n the l O l s s v o l . 6, 50. " f l noHHMaio, MTO TW B 3jiaK0M B03pacTe. . . . Hy, Kyrm TBM nJiaTOK, MTO JIH. . . ." 1° 2SS v o l . 6, 101. "ocBo6oaHTejibHbix H^ePi" Efrem's ef f o r t s to mentor Nikolai prefigures what K. Clark regards as a major theme revolutionary cause. "Do you think i t quite necessary [to write about] family d i v i s i o n s 1 0 3 [and] priests' extortions?," he asks. "Would i t not be better to struggle against the general reasons for the d i s i n t e g r a t i o n ? " 1 0 4 E r t e l devotes considerable attention to Efrem's story, which serves as a counterpoint to Nikolai's and extends the dialogic dimension of the novel. At f i r s t Nikolai i s timid i n the presence of t h i s "student of the Imperial Academy,"105 but then he keeps his distance, as the "general reasons for the disintegration" of society are not clear to him, and i n any case Efrem's estrangement from his family i s just the sort of thing that concerns him. In his l e t t e r to a friend, Efrem speaks of Nikolai as one whose conscience i s awakening and who i s beginning to think, but who has no passion for plans such as those Efrem outlines for action. As he writes: As long as the conversation remains within the region of theory, whether p o l i t i c a l , philosophical or moral, he l i s t e n s attentively, asks questions, often agrees excitedly; but as soon as we get to "what i s to be done?" he either utters some nonsense or remains s i l e n t , gazing obstinately downwards.106 of the Soviet novel The Soviet Novel: History as Ritual (Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1981). iOSj.e. the d i v i s i o n of farms among the sons, as opposed to retaining them as family concerns. 1 0 4 S S v o l . 6, 62. "CeMeHHbie pa3^ejibi, no6opbi nona, — EN iiyMaeTe, BTO o^ ewb eaxHO?. . . Pa3Be He jyyiue SopoTbca c OBJIIWMH npn^HHaMH pa3opeHHfl?" 1 0 5 S S v o l . 6, 35. "CTyzieHT MMnepaTopcKOH a K a a e M M H " 106ss v o l . 6, 102. 118 Efrem's l e t t e r c l e a r l y reveals his intention to spread revolutionary ideas, although his " l i t e r a t u r e " i s s t i l l locked away because, we are led to assume, the s o i l i s not yet ready as circumstances have changed l i t t l e since the reforms. Efrem complains that there are s t i l l "no protests, [and] no sense of individual r i g h t s . " 1 0 7 Nikolai's attentiveness to those "lesser" causes for disintegration i s what distinguishes him from Efrem. For while Efrem might now be actively working for the cause as he helps Nikolai f i n a n c i a l l y i n his e f f o r t s to open a school and tutors E l i z i n p o l i t i c a l economics, he i s unable to see how deeply he i s hurting his parents. His estrangement bears the sort of tragic nature reminiscent of the gap between Bazarov and his parents. Efrem's return home i s a delight to his parents: Kapiton i s eager to show him around the horse farm, while his pious mother takes great pains to get his room ready, complete with an icon of Efrem's " l i t t l e angel." But Efrem accepts t h e i r expressions of affection i n d i f f e r e n t l y , seeks to avoid t h e i r company, and breaks decisively with them (in II/8) when, after an argument with Kapiton, his mother dies, and Efrem leaves Gardenino for good. In t h e i r l a s t encounter Efrem and Nikolai are s t i l l opposed on the question of "what i s to be done?" "So what do you intend to do with yourself," Efrem asks, "Are you staying behind to turn sour and look after the Gardenins' i n t e r e s t s ? " 1 0 8 Nikolai 1° 7SS v o l . 6, 102. "npoTecTOB HeT, ^ yBCTBO JIHMHOCTM OTcyTCTByeT" explains that he has to earn a l i v i n g somehow, and that he might go into business. Efrem responds: [ 0]ur purpose i s not i n a career. We're yesterday's slaves, Nikolai Martinych. . . . Who fed us, gave us to drink, clothed us, and gave us the means to read books, study and develop our minds? Our brother! And s h a l l we s p i t on him, engage i n business, and establish our careers? 1 0 9 Nikolai responds quietly with "God w i l l i n g , we'll get our school going," but Efrem i n s i s t s that by going into business Nikolai w i l l be "stealing with one hand, while giving out a half-copeck piece with the other." Nikolai asks, more s o f t l y s t i l l , "where can I go?," 1 1 0 unable to respond to Efrem's proposal. Nikolai's reluctance to join Efrem had by now some concrete reasons. His sense of what needed to be done was being developed by I I ' i a Finogenych, his fourth and f i n a l mentor. 1 1 1 I I ' i a , as we r e c a l l , had recommended a l i f e of balance, where learning and a concern for the well-being of others could go hand-in-hand with trade. He had made i t clear that his products were "authentic peasant wares," 1 1 2 presumably i n d i s t i n c t i o n from 1 0 8 s s v o l . 6, 184. "Hy, a Bbi MTO HaMepeHbi aeJ iaTb c co6oio? TaK H o c T a H e T e c b KHCHyTb B rapaeHHHe M HafijiioaaTb rocnoj icKHe MHTepecw?" 1 0 9 S S vo l . 6, 184ff. 11°SS v o l . 6, 184. "— BOT, Bor ztacT, WKOJiy £>6pa3yeM. . . . — . . . A Bbi K MGMy roTOBHTGCb? OAHOK pyKOH r p a f i H T b , a a p y r o i o pa3aaBaTb no rpowwKy?. . . — Ho Kyaa a e T b C f l ? " Hl-The fact that Nikolai recognized the mentorship of the four individuals we have seen i s made e x p l i c i t i n II/10, where he mentions each of them by name. (SS, v o l . 6, 223). 1 1 2 S S V O l . 6, 151. "TOBap nOJIJIMHHO KpeCTbf lHCKHrt" 120 those associated with foreign investment and industry which would hurt domestic i n i t i a t i v e . Circumstances i n Nikolai's l i f e eventually lead him away from Gardenino to I l ' i a ' s home to be apprenticed. F i r s t of a l l Nikolai, together with Vera (who has been hired to teach at Gardenino's school), comes to f e e l isolated and without direction, since t h e i r school i s not proving much of a success. I u r i i Gardenin's order to have Kapiton dismissed, which (along with the loss of his son) leads the horse trainer to hang himself, creates a poor atmosphere on the estate. The second reason i s that Nikolai and Vera are being drawn apart. Although the two had expressed interest i n one another, and Nikolai had confessed to her his previous loves, he appears incapable of proposing to her. It becomes clear l a t e r that i t i s i n Nikolai's nature to hesitate, as he did with Grun'ka, who complained that she had waited long enough. When he receives a l e t t e r from Vera after he i s already gone he decides immediately to write to her and propose, but considers i t wise to address i n i t i a l l y an issue raised i n her l e t t e r concerning Pereverzev, Martin Lukianych's replacement as estate manager. For some time he gives thought to what he would l i k e to say, but gets distracted by his work, and f i n a l l y writes the l e t t e r , omitting his o r i g i n a l intent. When she v i s i t s him he i s already engaged to I l ' i a ' s daughter, so that Vera returns to marry Pereverzev. Nikolai's passive nature, at any rate, seems at least i n part a r e f l e c t i o n of his "elder's" contemplative quality. As he admits to Vera: 121 If I am the kind of person you see before you now, that i s , i f I s u f f i c i e n t l y understand where the truth l i e s and for whom one ought to be concerned, then I am obliged to the j o i n e r . 1 1 3 Nikolai finds himself working for I l ' i a with his father's blessing, but sad to have l e f t Gardenino. As soon as Varia, I l ' i a ' s daughter, entices him into an embrace and whispers affectionate words to him, c a l l i n g him her fiance, Nikolai finds himself engaged to someone he does not love. When he thinks of how she compares to Vera, Grun'ka and especially Tat'iana, he shudders but feels obligated to marry. I l ' i a i s displeased with Nikolai, for he suspects that he has proposed for the sake of Varia's dowry (she has a sizeable sum alloted to her). When he f i n a l l y learns that Nikolai had not actually proposed but had been coerced, I l ' i a "frees" him of his obligation (which echoes God's grace bestowed on Faustin the Wise). From the above we r e a l i z e that Nikolai senses the obligation to do what seems right, and that I l ' i a has acted as a second "elder" to him. Nikolai admits to him that i t was wrong to go along with his daughter, and confesses: "I have two shameful deeds on my conscience. You know about the f i r s t . . . . " I " i l ' i a responds with the "penance:" Nikolai i s to immerse himself i n his work, which w i l l keep his soul from shameful behaviour, and I l ' i a recommends that he now take some goods on credit and open his own shop, for which Nikolai i s very grateful. Nikolai i s sent with a blessing: 1 1 3 S S v o l . 6, 221. 1 1 4 S S v o l . 6, 274. "MMeio ase nojuiocTM Ha aywe, --BW 3HaeTe o nepBOH. , . ." 122 [You can thank me] with your l i f e , Nikolushka, with good works done for your suffering brother. I seek no other form of gratitude. . . . My blessing on you as you venture to do good (na podvig dobryi) . 1 1 5 As a new store owner Nikolai finds I l ' i a ' s advice helpful, for his new concerns and busy l i f e help a l l e v i a t e his pain over losing Vera. But when he i s not busy with journalism, v i s i t s to the zemstvo meetings and l o c a l school a f f a i r s Nikolai finds himself drinking excessively and feeling depressed about the constant change going on around him. As he learns, Gardenino would now be unrecognizable to him, for the horse farm has been sold, the steppe has been divided up into countless f i e l d s , livestock has been brought i n , and new buildings are being constructed a l l the time. Later he learns that a d i s t i l l e r y operates on the estate. Nikolai's t h i r s t for l i f e , we learn, reappears with Ivan Fedotych's v i s i t to his shop. There Ivan t e l l s Nikolai the story of one man's adultery, which brings Nikolai to Ivan's feet asking for forgiveness. Later Nikolai meets Tat'iana and his son Vania and takes part i n Ivan's service of Scripture reading and singing, where he i s moved especially by the reading of the passage from I Corinthians which A r e f i i had quoted e a r l i e r . As the service goes on, however, he finds that he prefers Ivan i n his old setting, for here denial and s a c r i f i c e (and not the "fulness of l i f e " 1 1 6 ) i s being encouraged, and he imagines that 1 1 5 S S v o l . 6, 275. 1 1 6 S S v o l . 6, 295. "nojiHOTa XH3HM" 123 Tat'iana feels the same. Nikolai continues to v i s i t Tat'iana and t h e i r son, and finds joy i n the fact that they are "not committing a s i n " (in her vocabulary), or "not doing a shameful deed" (in h i s ) . 1 1 7 Eventually Ivan departs on a f i n a l pilgrimage, leaving him and Tat'iana to l i v e together. The marriage i s , given the circumstances, s t i l l u n o f f i c i a l , which causes Martin Lukianych's sense of religious propriety considerable s t r a i n . New Shores In the epilogue (11/14), e n t i t l e d "Ten Years Later," we find Nikolai serving on the zemstvo, befriending R a f a i l Gardenin (who seems sympathetic to Nikolai's l i b e r a l democratic e f f o r t s i n government), and extending help to Pavlik, a young man from Gardenino who shows promise. As i s to be expected, some "loose ends" are t i e d up: I u r i i has made for himself a good career i n the army, I I ' i a has died, Efrem has been removed (or perhaps imprisoned or worse), Rukodeev s t i l l drinks heavily, and Vera now suffers from nerves and i s mostly depressed over her f a i l e d populist e f f o r t s . Emphasizing the p o l i t i c a l dimension of the novel, Nikiforov concludes that E r t e l ' s ideal was embodied i n both Nikolai and Pereverzev, whose ef f o r t s were most i n l i n e with the author's sympathies as a "bourgeois democrat." 1 1 8 As E r t e l explained, 1 1 7 S S v o l . 6, 297. "He coBepniaioT rpex" : "He aejiaioT nojuiocTH" 1 1 8 N i k i f o r o v , "Tvorchestvo A. I. E r t e l i a " 99. "3pTejib ocTaeTCfl Ha no3MUHflx 6ypxya3Horo aeMOKpaTa." In a diary entry of 1881 E r t e l 124 however, his novel's central idea (krasnaia nit') was contained i n two types of moral development. Ivan's represented "free" development, which took place i n spite of his circumstances (s o c i a l , p o l i t i c a l , or otherwise), whereas Nikolai's stood for the (far more common) form which required that those circumstances be more or less conducive to the individual's development. 1 1 9 This seems to indicate that what concerned the author was that which happened "from above," and emphasizes the notion that the ideal was not to be sought i n a program or prescription for coming "to the l i g h t , " but i n the very fact that man does come to the l i g h t "providentially." This represents a kind of universalism according to which no one i s ultimately excluded from the authentic l i f e i n Gardeniny (hence, perhaps, the discussion on the temporary nature of h e l l , and the reference to St. Paul's "love . . . hopes a l l things.") By the same token, one can be l e f t with a sense of ambiguity, i f Nikolai's experience i s taken to be the only authentic one, as to whether the "good l i f e " r e a l l y matters i n the end. So i t appears, at least, with Nikolai's thoughts and feelings about " l i f e i n general" with which the novel concludes: Everything flows . . . everything changes. wrote of his plans to write a " p o l i t i c a l " novel i n which the fate of the i n t e l l i g e n t s i a would be depicted. N. L. Brodskii, "Iz literaturnykh proektov A. I. E r t e l i a , " RM (9) 1911, second pagination: 61. The fact that he had even named his hero Evdokim Rakhmanin led c r i t i c s to assume that what became Gardeniny was fundamentally, indeed exclusively, a p o l i t i c a l work. 1 1 9Pis'ma 173. 125 Everything heads towards that which i s c a l l e d the 'future.' And a l l 'w i l l be devoured by the jaws of eternity,' where there i s no future! . . . And as Nikolai contemplated t h i s ceaseless succession of l i f e , that restless struggle between black and white . . . i n him the feeling of sadness with which he l e f t Gardenino faded, and together with i t disappeared that happy feeling which he enjoyed as he thought of Pavlik, R a f a i l Konstantinovich, and about the fact that he would arrive home, and that he had a wife and children, and that a l l was wonderful. 1 2 0 As i t turns out, Nikolai i s not "there yet," i n spite of the authority he enjoys as a respected man i n the community. In many ways he has only begun, for he shares with the young theological student i n Chekhov's "The Student" (1898) a feeling of despair with regards to history: Cringing i n the cold, [the student] reflected that just such a wind had blown i n the days of Riurik, Ivan the Terrible and Peter the Great. Their times had known just such ferocious poverty and hunger. . . A l l these horrors had been, s t i l l were, and would continue to be, and the passing of another thousand years would make things no be t t e r . 1 2 1 Nikolai had advised R a f a i l , we r e c a l l , on how to avoid despair, but here he finds himself captive to a certain despondency i n the face of that endless struggle between good and e v i l . E r t e l ' s confident "providential progress of man towards the l i g h t " i s ultimately paradoxical. The openness which has marked the novel, whereby the individual's "small" choices are c r u c i a l and p o s s i b i l i t i e s are "sideshadowed," would appear to be inconsistent with the notion that a person's progress was 1 2 0 S S v o l . 6, 328-9. 1 2 1 A . Chekhov, "The Student," trans. R. Hingley, The Oxford Chekhov, vol.9 (Oxford: Oxford UP, 1961) 105. 126 governed by d i v i n e providence. Whether E r t e l c o n s i d e r e d the apparent i n c o n s i s t e n c y between t h i s and h i s i n j u n c t i o n that one "must enter l i f e " without set d o c t r i n e s we cannot be sure; i n any case h i s novel p r o v i d e s the s e t t i n g i n which one might c o n s i d e r the way i n which, as Morson w r i t e s , "two t e m p o r a l i t i e s c o u l d . . . i n t e r a c t to shape the world as we know i t . " 1 2 2 While content to l i v e (and counsel others) a c c o r d i n g to I l ' i a ' s p h i l osophy of progress (which took f o r granted the idea that a c t i o n s done f o r "our s u f f e r i n g brother" would bear f r u i t , j u s t as Novikov and Radishchev's deeds had r e s u l t e d i n freedom f o r the s e r f s ) , N i k o l a i f i n d s that he l o s e s hope when t h i n k i n g about l i f e " i n g e n e r a l " of a reason which would make h i s temporal e f f o r t s worthwhile. R e c a l l i n g Batiushkov's comment t h a t E r t e l does not pr e s e n t the reader w i t h "an i n t e g r a t e d understanding of l i f e , " one wonders whether i t c o u l d be that i n Gard e n i n y one f i n d s o n l y a p r a c t i c a l p hilosophy, without any r e f e r e n c e to or hope f o r l i f e " i n g e n e r a l . " A f t e r a l l , E r t e l once wrote: "Why are we sentenced to death? . . . Let the one who wrote the book t h i n k about [the f a c t t h a t death seems to render e v e r y t h i n g m e a n i n g l e s s ] . " 1 2 3 E r t e l ' s l i b e r a l p r o t e s t a n t d i s t r u s t o f r e v e l a t i o n n e v e r t h e l e s s assumed a S t o r y t e l l e r f o r the s t o r y which one can know only i n p a r t . The novel's " p r o v i d e n t i a l a t t r a c t i o n towards the l i g h t , " which i m p l i e s c l o s u r e and i n e v i t a b l e progress, at 122]y[ 0 r s o r l / N a r r a t i v e 169. 1 2 3 P i s ' ma 161. 'TloMeMy MW npnroBopeHbi K [ c M e p T M ] ? . . . nycTb ^ y M a e T 06 3 T O M T O T , K T O H a n n c a ; i KHkiry ." the same time implies a temporality which cannot be known through human reason. In th i s regard Nikolai arrives at the same e x i s t e n t i a l c r i s i s experienced by Ivan Fedotych, who found his way beyond the c r i s i s not with his mind, but with his heart. We r e c a l l that he had said to Nikolai that i f k i l l i n g were permitted there could be no s i n (countering, as i t were, Ivan Karamazov's " i f there i s no God, a l l i s permitted"). But i n Ivan Fedotych's story of Faustin the Wise, as i t turns out, God i s merciful, which Nikolai arguably takes as a licence for s e l f -indulgence. In fact Ivan Fedotych i s tempted (in a dream i n which he, l i k e Faust, faces the Devil) to believe that his actions do not matter, for i f God i s omnipotent and omniscient, and nothing i s done outside his w i l l , then a l l i s permitted and he should get his revenge on Tat'iana. When Ivan says that he cannot k i l l because to k i l l i s of the d e v i l , the d e v i l asks: "Have you seen the devil? You blaspheme, for you say God i s omnipresent! Where do you find a place for the d e v i l , perhaps i n God?" 1 2 4 At t h i s point the d e v i l suggests there i s no God, and leads Ivan to contemplate suicide, t e l l i n g him that his death can only mean nothingness or f i n a l understanding. Ivan begins to weep, a "sweet sadness" overcomes him, and he wakes from his dream. For Ivan, as with Faustin the Wise, and even Nikolai (when he i s freed from his obligation to Varia, for instance), God i s merciful. But what was permitted and what was not could only be 1 2 4SS v o l . 5, 281. "rae TW ero BH^eji, abflBOJia-TO? H KomyHCTByewb: Hxe Be3ae cbifl rocnotfb! r^e x e TW abflBOJiy-TO Haweji MecTO? B Bore MTO JIH?" 128 known i n one's "soul," as Ivan had explained to Nikolai e a r l i e r , for there was no rational way to reconcile an omnipresent good God with e v i l . Thus Ivan counsels Nikolai to consider his own l i f e of less value than anyone else's, and to remember that when i t comes to seeking the meaning of l i f e i n the face of death and i n j u s t i c e we have only human reason to help us. Providence i n Gardeniny i s therefore found as i t might be perceived i n The Brothers Karamazov, where the l i f e " l i ved for others" i s passed from one individual to another as a g i f t . The "grace" which flows from Zosima to Alesha to the children i s to be found i n that which both Ivan and I l ' i a pass on to Nikolai, who towards the end counsels R a f a i l Gardenin and aids Pavlik. One must note, too, that i n both novels grace i s manifested i n repentance, for Nikolai's desire for l i f e returns after he confesses his "shameful deed" to Ivan Fedotych. We have suggested ways i n which the novel creates openness through dialogue and "sideshadowing." A second way i n which the novel points outside i t s e l f to another temporality (in addition to appealing to Providence) i s i n i t s "aperture," 1 2 5 or f a i l u r e to f i n a l l y close, i n the sense that another story remains to be t o l d . Crime and Punishment anticipated "the story of the gradual renewal of a man" which Gardeniny could only begin to t e l l , for humanity has not arrived (and thus continues to t e l l stories—many of which are based on the myth of the 1 2 5 B y th i s term Morson designates the means by which Tolstoy, for example, wrote i n such a way as to avoid closure and the "impression of completeness" (Morson, Narrative 169). 129 journey). To be sure, the epilogue conventionally t i e d together loose ends, but i n so doing i t only drew greater attention to the way i n which Nikolai's dilemma was l e f t unresolved: while he might reasonably expect progress " i n particular" (that i s , i n time), progress "in general" would have to take i t s place among other possible futures u n t i l understood "by the soul." 130 Chapter Four Inertia and "The Struggle" i n Smena Say not the struggle nought availeth, The labour and the wounds are vain, The enemy faints not, nor f a i l e t h , And as things have been, things remain. —A. H. Clough 1 In late 1890 E r t e l rented a farm at Empelevo (now Trudovoe, near Voronezh) and, with enthusiasm and confident plans to manage the property, set to work on his second novel, Smena ("The Change," RM, 1891). The novel opens i n 1885 at a c r u c i a l point i n the l i f e of the Mansurov c l a n 2 as th e i r family estate i s turned over to renters by the impoverished and elderly Evgeniia Mansurova, who dies immediately thereafter. She i s survived by her grand-children, Elizaveta Petrovna, l i v i n g on the estate, and Andrei Petrovich, i n St. Petersburg. Most of Part I i s devoted to Andrei's l i f e i n the c i t y , where he i s on the verge of resigning his job as he becomes increasingly d i s i l l u s i o n e d with c i t y l i f e . Four episodes provide insight into his desire to leave: his f a i l e d romance ! A . H . Clough (1819-61), "Say not the struggle nought availeth," The Poems of Arthur Hugh Clough, ed. F.L. Mulhauser, (New York: Oxford UP, 1974) 206. 2The h i s t o r i c a l Mansurov family dates to the 14th century. See Entsiklopedicheskii slovar' v o l . 23 (St. Petersburg, 1896) 553. with Liudmila Gorenskaia, the hostess of a l i v e l y high-society soiree; a v i s i t with Maria F i d l e r , a wealthy woman who would l i k e to include him i n her plans to organize a commune; his v i s i t with his aunt Klarisa Sodomtseva, a wealthy evangelical Christian who i s interested i n his conversion; f i n a l l y his acquaintance with a group of steppe-dwellers, who with t h e i r involvement i n some form of service to the people present Mansurov with an alternative to his present l i f e s t y l e . In Part II we f i n d the Mansurovs on t h e i r estate, where Andrei i s preparing to go abroad for medical treatment and Elizaveta has become a supporter of her former pupil Alexei Koniakhin (hereafter Alesha) i n his preaching and teaching a c t i v i t i e s . When Alesha and Elizaveta have set out on a pilgrimage we meet the members of the l o c a l group of those engaged i n "the struggle" (defined by the author as those ef f o r t s " i n word, conviction, peaceful action and way of l i f e which . . . affect people's consciousness and, consequently, how they l i v e . " 3 ) : Fedor Prytkov, a member of the zemstvo and chief of the s t a t i s t i c s department; various s t a t i s t i c i a n s who have set aside t h e i r intended vocations as a r t i s t s , doctors and scholars i n order to earn money; Ivan Alferov, merchant, philanthropist and member of the zemstvo; Elena Prytkova, s i s t e r of Fedor and teacher with populist sympathies, and others. When Andrei returns from abroad he never makes i t home to the estate. On his way he stops i n Alferov's hometown, where he 3 P i s 'ma 321. "CJIOBOM, yfiexaeHweM, MHpHbiMH nocr/riKaMM, o6pa30M XH3HM KOTopafl . . . H3MeHfleT cc-3HaHne Jiicaefl. a cneaoBaiejibHo, M nopaiUKM." 132 finds the f i l t h and lack of care appalling. A discussion with Alferov on progress and the struggle leaves him depressed, contemplating suicide. As i t happens, Alferov, Prytkov and Mansurov find themselves i n a brothel when the l a t t e r i s h i t and k i l l e d by a stray b u l l e t . With Mansurov buried, Elizaveta and Alesha return from the i r pilgrimage, welcomed back by the "brethren." Elizaveta then sees to the a f f a i r s of the estate with the help of Fedor Prytkov, who helps her dissolve the existing lease (to his brother I l i a ) , and leases the land to her peasants. With this settled she moves into a f l a t with Elena Prytkova i n town, and comes to teach i n the school on her family estate. In some ways Smena r e c a l l s E r t e l ' s previous works. Structurally the novel bears resemblance to Zapiski, where the protagonist's i s o l a t i o n i s defined through a series of encounters. As i n Gardeniny, one meets i n Smena numerous secondary characters, and finds the same attention to the ordinary and prosaic: i n both novels the c i t y stands for i n d i v i d u a l i s t i c values which undermine the struggle. This i s suggested i n i t i a l l y by the fact that Mansurov disappoints the guests at a high-society soiree by bringing along Alferov, "a most ordinary member of the zemstvo."4 Unlike Gardeniny, however, Smena i s not wide i n scope. In his second novel E r t e l does not set about to describe i n d e t a i l 4Smena 109. "caMbift o6biKHOB£HHbiH 3eMeu," (In t h i s chapter I quote from the more accessible edition of the novel published by Chekhov Press, New York, 1954) the way of l i f e i n the country, nor i s h i s hero's s t o r y i n any way l i k e an e p i c . Mansurov's tragedy l i e s p r e c i s e l y i n the f a c t t h a t he cannot enter the s t r u g g l e , which was seen to take p l a c e i n the r u r a l areas, nor can he cope with change ("smena"). For such a hero E r t e l was bound to choose a c h a r a c t e r who i s " s t a t i c , " or, as he e x p l a i n e d to G o l ' t s e v , a " p h i l o s o p h i c a l p e s s i m i s t . " 5 Reception of Smena has on the whole not been very p o s i t i v e . The most favourable comment was o f f e r e d by Gleb U s p e n s k i i : "He w r i t e s so w e l l . I t ' s charming! [ E r t e l ] has f r e e d h i m s e l f from T o l s t o y a n a s c e t i c i s m and given freedom to h i s great t a l e n t . The e n t i r e f i r s t p a r t i s m a g n i f i c e n t . " 6 M i k h a i l o v s k i i , however, a c c u s e d E r t e l of o v e r p o p u l a t i n g h i s work and "somewhat s c o r n f u l l y and s k e p t i c a l l y o b s e r v i n g the hubbub of h i s own c r e a t i o n s " so t h a t i n the end i t was u n c l e a r "what e x a c t l y c o n s t i t u t e s Smena i n E r t e l ' s n o v e l , . . . [and] i n which d i r e c t i o n the change i s headed, whether i t lead s to good or i l l . " 7 S o v i e t c r i t i c i s m r e v e a l s the standard b i a s e s : one w r i t e r m a i n t a i n e d t h a t E r t e l f a i l e d to communicate any hope i n the c r e a t i v e s t r e n g t h of the p e o p l e ; 8 another c h a s t i z e d him f o r ^ K i z e v e t t e r , 231. 6 K i z e v e t t e r , 195. " O T ^ M M H O O H n u i u e T , n p e j i e c T b ! B M ^ H M O , O H OCBO6O^M/ ICSI O T T o ; i c T O B C K o r o C K o r m s c T B a H ,aa/i BOJID C B o e M y c m i b H O M y T a j i a H T y . Bcsi n e p B a s i M a c T b -n p e B o c x o ^ H a . " 7N. K. M i k h a i l o v s k i i , Polnoe sobranie s o c h i n e n i i v o l . 6, (St. Petersburg, 1909) 972. " B H S M H M e H H O C O C T O H T « C M e H a » B p O M a H G r. S p T e / i s i , . . . B K O T O p y o C T O p o H y C M e H a H a n p a B J i a e T c a , K ao6py V\JM K xy ,qy B e , q e T . " 8A. S. Bushmin, ed., I s t o r i i a r u s s k o i l i t e r a t u r y (Leningrad: Nauka, 1983) 83. 134 s e t t l i n g for a "small deeds" philosophy; 9 while Nikiforov saw the novel as marking a turning point for the worse as E r t e l adopted an "elementary democracy . . . with a religious b a s i s . " 1 0 Mikhailovskii's complaint concerning the novel's message could be understood p o s i t i v e l y , for i t underscores Ertel's concern to chronicle change and d i v e r s i t y without taking sides. In fact the beginning of an adequate appreciation of this novel which, i n spite of i t s reprinting i n 1954 i n the United States, has scarcely been examined, must bear i n mind the author's conviction that his duty as an a r t i s t was to withhold judgement. In fact, Ertel's words "no one i s to blame" were o r i g i n a l l y written with s p e c i f i c reference to Smena.11 True to his intentions, E r t e l managed to t e l l the story of a superfluous man and the struggle he was un f i t to join , without rendering him en t i r e l y superfluous or the struggle meaningless. His novel stands out, moreover, for i t s attention to the multi-faceted nature of Russian society during what was perceived as an id e o l o g i c a l l y chaotic time. Of pa r t i c u l a r interest i s E r t e l ' s depiction of popular religious trends i n an era of persecution. 1 2 9D. D. Blagoi, ed., I s t o r i i a russkoi l i t e r a t u r y (Moscow: Nauka, 1964) 638. 1 0V.V. Nikiforov, "Tvorchestvo A. I. E r t e l i a , " abstract, 10. "CTMXHMHOrO fleMOKpaTH3Ma . . . Ha peJIHrH03H0H OCHOBe" 1 1Pis'ma 246. 135 The tension between i n e r t i a and struggle suggested above i s underscored by other c r u c i a l c o n f l i c t s . Mansurov i s a victim of change, or, i n the author's words, that metamorphosis taking place today, whereby members of the i n t e l l i g e n t s i a with gentry habits and upbringing, with t h e i r nerves, traditions, feelings, and to a great extent ideas, surrender t h e i r places to far less refined and even crude people who are nevertheless much more able to engage i n the struggle. " 1 3 Elizaveta, on the other hand, introduces a competing image: "It's not change that's taking place today," she muses, "but confluence, and that's been known for a long time. Even i n the seventies, and perhaps e a r l i e r , the raznochintsy and the gentry merged into a common stream." 1 4 So while for some the gentry i s replaced by individuals more suited for the struggle, for others people of various religious and socio-economic backgrounds come together i n that common task. As i n Gardeniny, Er t e l ' s plan included not only the "panoramic" elements of di v e r s i t y , change and confluence mentioned above, but also attention to s p i r i t u a l quest. 1 5 This i^For a discussion of Pobedonostsev's dealings with Russian protestants see Durasoff, S. The Russian Protestants (Cranbury, NJ: Assoc. UP, 1969) 44ff. l 3Pis'ma 209. 14Smena 93. "He CMeHa coBepiuaeTCfl, HO cjiHflHHe, H BTO AQBHO H3BecTH0. Em,e B ceMHaecflTbix r o a a x , eme paHbiue, CMewajwcb B oSmeM TeMeHMM pa3H0MHHU,bi H ^ B o p f l H e . . . ." ^ S t r u c t u r a l l y certain p a r a l l e l s can be (and have been) drawn between the two works. Both novels, as noted, devote considerable attention to religious sectarianism and changes i n the s o c i a l landscape, and various characters from the f i r s t novel "reemerge" i n the second: there i s a certain kinship between Elizaveta Mansurova and E l i z Gardenina, Andrei Mansurov and R a f a i l Gardenin, as well as Alferov and Nikolai Rakhmanny. 136 feature, found especially i n the l i f e of Alesha, draws out the related c o n f l i c t s of the individual versus the c o l l e c t i v e and freedom versus necessity: Mansurov's pessimism binds him to the necessity dictated by his type, while Alesha's l i f e exemplifies the sort of freedom which the struggle needed. The chief interest of thi s novel, and indeed the key to a fresh reading, i s found i n the way i n which i t deals with the c o n f l i c t s indicated above. Since Smena i s f i r s t and foremost a philosophical novel, t h i s chapter w i l l be structured as follows: F i r s t we w i l l examine Mansurov's i n a b i l i t y to "enter l i f e , " looking for the source of his pessimism. Second we w i l l follow him through four c i r c l e s which offer alternative philosophies of l i f e , observing the way i n which each of these illumines his character and i s illumined through the encounter. Third we w i l l consider "the struggle" as that point of confluence of which Elizaveta spoke, and look especially at the l i f e of Alesha. In conclusion we w i l l examine two pr i n c i p a l ways i n which the novel holds i n e r t i a and the struggle i n tension. Philosophical Pessimism We know l i t t l e of Mansurov's family background except that his grandfather was a romantic i d e a l i s t , 1 6 his mother a populist who had committed suicide (contributing somehow to her husband's I s t o r i i a russkogo romana, ed. A. S. Bushmin (Moscow-Leningrad: 1962-64) 495. l^This i s suggested by his correspondence, which Elizaveta scans (Smena 94). 137 death), and his grandmother a woman who deeply resented the way in which her granddaughter Elizaveta had been influenced by her mother's populism. She was relieved, however, that Andrei "had not fed on his mother's poison." 1 7 In a l e t t e r to his s i s t e r , Andrei introduces her to his philosophy: The whole world seems to me sometimes a funeral procession. . . . Why I can't say, but I ' l l agree with Shakia Muni: "wise i s the c h i l d who i s born weeping" . . . It seems to me . . . that those of us who are younger are too experienced and r i c h i n that wisdom of Ecclesiastes i n which there i s so much sadness." 1 8 But i n the same l e t t e r he asserts, with hope i n a sense of duty as a member of the gentry, that change does not confront the n o b i l i t y . With th i s conviction he can exclaim: "To rule . . . [o]ne needs talent, nerves, and to develop a taste for that which i s common to a l l mankind, the eternal and the mystical. . . .We'll f i g h t ! " 1 9 In fact, Andrei i s ever torn between a sense of duty to his class to withstand the forces of change and the conviction that there could be no essential change to be withstood. His pessimism i s brought out p a r t i c u l a r l y when he encounters grand schemes for the renewal of the world. Speaking to Maria F i d l e r , for example, he recites some lines of his verse: 17Smena 36. "MaTepMHHoro any He cocaji." 1 8Smena 89-90. 19Smena 91. "Rsia Toro , moBbi BepxoBOiiHTb . . . [Hlaao HMeTt> Ta j i aHT , HMeTb HepBbi, Haao npHofipecTH B«yc K o6me4ejioBeMecKOMy, K BeHHOMy, K MHCTMMecKOMy. . . . noBoioeM!" 138 F i l l e d with wild strength, The wave surged once again — And the wanderer i s carried to the sea... No more desire to endure, Only to die remains A p i t i f u l plaything of fate, Without strength, without a moan, Without struggle! 2 0 Fidler's reaction, that she had read those lines somewhere else, reminds Mansurov that "we for ever resemble someone or something," 2 1 reinforcing his sad conviction that the round of l i f e produces nothing t r u l y new. Like Nikolai Rakhmanny (in Gardeniny), Andrei i s indecisive when i t comes to romance and matrimony. Although he and Liudmila Mikhailovna love one another, she cannot commit herself to him f u l l y because of his hesitation. "The only one who has the right to marry," he explains when his friend Alferov suggests he find some way to wed, " i s the one who . . . has a role to play, a future, who says p l a i n l y : 'I wish to be f r u i t f u l and multiply and populate the land.'" 2 2 The substance of Mansurov's philosophy i s found i n his love of S i r Edwin Arnold's The Light of A s i a 2 3 and Buddhism, which has reinforced "his indifference towards so-called p o l i t i c s , 2 0Smena 112. 2 1 Smena 113. "M W Be^Ho Ha Koro-HHeyjib HJIH Ha MT0-HH6y1ab n o x o m " 2 2Smena 164. "klMeeT npaBO xeHHTbefl JiHUib T O T , . , . y KOToporo ecTb pojib, ecTb Gyaymee , KTO npaMO TaK-TaKH H 3aflBJiaeT: xo^y njioaHTbCfl H MHOXHTbca H 3acejiflTb 3eMJII0." 2 3Published i n 1879, a book which did so much to popularize Buddhism. 139 his disgust for the so-called family hearth," and populist ideas. 2 4 Arnold's work inspires him to write a story of the Buddha i n Russian, but he soon realizes that he can not find the right tone. Mansurov chooses not to practise the teachings of the Buddha, but only to turn his thoughts to the one "who likened l i f e to an eternal change of empty i l l u s i o n s and fle e t i n g r e f l e c t i o n s " 2 5 whenever he encounters even the slig h t e s t confidence i n the renewal of the world. At bottom Mansurov's philosophy i s a reaction against positivism, for he accepts the Kantian view that man experiences only phenomena. For t h i s reason he can treat Alesha, who boldly seeks the "unknowable,"26 as an object of study, and not as an equal. The fact that E r t e l himself began a l i f e of the Buddha, at Chertkov's request, but cut his work short because he could not find the "right tone," 2 7 led Nikiforov to l i n k E r t e l with his hero. 2 8 There i s l i t t l e to suggest, however, that E r t e l was drawn to Buddhism as a philosophy. In fact he makes his own inc l i n a t i o n quite clear: In a word, i f Heine i s right that humanity i s made up of Hellenes and Jews, then I must consider myself a Hellene. At the same time 2 4smena 184. " e r o paBHoaywue K T3K H33biB3eM0f i no jWTHKe M OTBpameHne K TaK H a 3 b i B 3 e M 0 M y ceMeftHOMy O M a r y . . , . " 2 5Smena 185. "K T O y n o , a o 6 m ] XH3Hb BeMHOH CMGHe n y c r b i x npn3pa«0B H MMMOJlGTHblX O T p S X e H H p i . " 2 6Smena 239. "Heno^HSBsewoe" 2 7Pisma 165. 2 8 N i k i f o r o v , "Tvorchestvo A. I. E r t e l i a " 107. 140 I can't help but f e e l the deepest admiration for the 'Jewish' or Buddhist t r a i t s i n V[ladimir] G[rigorievich Chertkov], which govern his soul so strongly. . . , 2 9 For t h i s reason i t would be safer to l i n k Mansurov to Chertkov (and there are other reasons, as we s h a l l see), although Mansurov has his l i t e r a r y predecessors. His kinship with Baturin i n Zapiski stepniaka i s clear, as well as with other "superfluous" characters i n Russian l e t t e r s . After his years abroad Mansurov has even less reason to join the struggle. Although he i s recommended for a position on the zemstvo, his impressions of Russia are of a backward nation with f i l t h y provincial towns and poor business practices. To make things worse, of course, he i s i l l . Only i n the home of a certain Dormidonych i s his desire to struggle aroused as his host's son plays a march from Pushkin's The Prophet. Inspired, presumably, by Pushkin's bold "set the hearts of men on f i r e with My Word,"30 Mansurov feels that he can transcend the d i f f i c u l t i e s Russia presents and exclaim "We'll fight, damn i t , we'll f i g h t ! " 3 1 In a f i n a l discussion of progress and the struggle Mansurov dismisses his friends' hopes as i d y l l i c and useless. F i n a l l y he despairs and, as though announcing his end, says: "How sad l i f e 2 9Pis'ma 156. 3^A. S. Pushkin, "Prorok," Polnoe sobranie sochinenii v o l . 2 (Leningrad: Nauka, 1977-79) 304. "TjiarojiOM xrw cepaua JiioaeH." 3 1 Smena 340. "floBoioeM, MopT B03bMH, noBO ioeMr" 141 i s and how sweet i t would be to die instead of spinning on t h i s wheel." 3 2 Four Alternatives Just as Turgenev's Bazarov finds himself isolated as he f a i l s to find his place i n society, so too Mansurov i s progressively alienated from St. Petersburg society i n the four episodes that we s h a l l examine now. We f i r s t meet Mansurov at a l i v e l y soiree on January 17, 1886 hosted by the Gorenskiis, Sergei Ivanovich and Liudmila Mikhailovna, i n t h e i r St. Petersburg home. A special dignitary that evening i s a Moscow lawyer by the name of Rogov, whose erudite speech on Tolstoy, with due references to Plato, Augustine, Thomas More, Kant, the gospels, and Fet, 3 3 demonstrates his command of the arguments for and against Tolstoy. His "academic," distanced approach, which seems to be designed to attract more attention to his own erudition than to the ideas, disturbs the young student Kretov who asks: "The young people would l i k e to know, what i s the meaning of l i f e ? " Rogov's answer was to " l i v e and l e t l i v e . " 3 4 Underscoring Rogov's i n d i v i d u a l i s t i c motto, the whole gathering i s characterized by individuals seeking th e i r own 3 2Smena 365. "KaK r p y c T H a x n 3 H b M x a x cnaaKO 6bi y M e p e T b BMecTO T o r o , moSbi BepTeTbC f l B 3T0M KOJlGCe. . . . " 3 3Smena 120. Smena 120. " — . . . MOJ i o j i e x b xejiaeT 3HaTb, B 4eM x e CMWCJI X M 3 H M ? — 2KHBH H 5KHTb aaBafl .apyrHM." 142 s e l f - i n t e r e s t s . Rogov strives to impress his hostess, while Mansurov and Liudmila Mikhailovna's a f f a i r i s exposed: he, i n love with Liudmila Mikhailovna, i s disturbed by the attention that she pays to Rogov, while she i n turn questions him about his conversation with F i d l e r . In the background, a promising young pianist s i t s down to play with a look that makes i t quite clear that she w i l l play without the least concern for the guests ' opinions. 3 5 E r t e l intended to depict here the "exotic and nervous existence" of high s o c i e t y . 3 6 Indeed Liudmila Mikhailovna never escapes, for even at the end of the novel she i s found keeping herself busy i n order to avoid thinking of her unhappiness. 3 7 The fact that i n t h i s context Mansurov finds himself furthest from the struggle i s underscored by his friend Alferov's remark that the evening was " f u l l of talk and l i t t l e a c t i o n , " 3 8 and Kretov's dismay over Rogov's i n d i v i d u a l i s t i c credo. Equally remote from the struggle are Fidler's plans to organize a commune. While at the soiree Mansurov had listened to her plans and hopes for a bright future by building a community i n America or the Caucasus, i n the next chapter (appropriately e n t i t l e d "Those Who Seek a C i t y " 3 9 ) he v i s i t s 3 5Smena 117. 3 6Pis'ma 209. "3K30THMecKM -HepBHMecKoe cymecTBOBawie" 37Smena 417. 38Smena 122. "BH3ry M H C T O , a mepcTM H£T," (From the Russian proverb: "CTpwr nepT CBHHbio; BM3ry M H O T O , a wepcTH HGT." "The d e v i l sheared the swine; there was a l o t of squealing, but no wool.") 143 F i d l e r i n her home and meets a certain Bashutskii, whom Fid l e r has consulted on her plans. This man, who had wandered i n the southern United States and Australia, explained that the communes belonged to the "brides and grooms of the world to come"40 who had forsaken worldly ways and chosen to l i v e together according to an agreed moral code. In the colony's place of gathering there would stand statues of Apollo and Venus: symbols of s p i r i t u a l and bodily perfection. Modelled i n part after William Frey or one of his close followers, the p o r t r a i t of Bashutskii provides a clear instance of Ertel's blurring of the d i s t i n c t i o n between fact and f i c t i o n i n Smena, for we are t o l d that Mansurov had introduced at the Gorenskii's soiree a follower of Frey. Frey (whose rea l name was Vladimir Konstantinovich Geins, 1839-88) had gone to America i n the 1870's to organize a commune, moved to England i n 1884, and i n October 1885 met with Tolstoy, who was c l e a r l y impressed with his stories of communal l i f e . 4 1 Although he makes no mention of i t i n his collected l e t t e r s , E r t e l would have either met or learned of Frey through Tolstoy i n the same year. 4 2 3 9Smena 137. "B3biCKyiomMe r p a a a " (Hebrews 13:14) 4 0Smena 143 "xeHHXH H HeBecTbi rpaaymero" 4 1See Tolstoy's PSS v o l . 63, 296. The friendship between the two was cut short when Frey learned of Tolstoy's disregard for Comte's positivism, to which he subscribed. For a study of Frey's a c t i v i t i e s i n the United States, see A. Yarmolinsky's A Russian's American Dream (Lawrence: U of Kansas P, 1965). 4 2 i t appears that E r t e l was acquainted with the minor writer G. Machtet, who i n the 1870's joined Frey's colony i n the United States. See E r t e l ' s 20 June 1886 l e t t e r to Machtet i n Put' 1 (1913): 32. 144 The individualism i n Frey's form of communism (for i n seeking the "world to come" the adherents distanced themselves from the struggle) i s brought out t h i s time by Mansurov. Previously he had reacted to Fidler's hopes as simply i l l u s o r y , but now the idea strikes him as utter nonsense. To make things worse F i d l e r e f f e c t i v e l y proposes to Mansurov, t e l l i n g him after they kiss that she would not be opposed to t h e i r l i v i n g as man and wife without marrying. Insisting that he's a confirmed bachelor, Mansurov departs with plans to leave the c i t y altogether. If the two extremes described above distanced one from the struggle, the next two episodes bring Mansurov into contact with c i r c l e s which are closer to the centre. While F i d l e r had her plans for Mansurov's salvation i n a community of "the world to come," Klarisa Sodomtseva had her own plans for her nephew. Intending to go to his uncle's for permission to resign his post, Mansurov proceeds to the Sodomtsevs', where he happens to arrive as his aunt i s leading her group i n song: There i s room, there i s ! 0 make haste to come i n ! He has welcomed many sinners there, But there i s s t i l l a place for you, They are washed i n Christ's blood, Christ i s c a l l i n g , and w i l l cleanse even you. 4 3 As he imagines that the f a i t h f u l are thinking that his a r r i v a l at that particular time i s the work of God, he notices the "same hypocritical faces of the two maids, . . . the senior coachman . . . who had been forbidden once and for a l l to l e t out his 4 3Smena 154. 145 frenzied howl, and that same mixture of sincere and deep f a i t h , simple-minded dullness, hysterical enthusiasm with suppressed s e r v i l i t y and base obsequiousness." 4 4 After the song, aunt Klarisa reads the B i b l i c a l story of the healing at Bethesda (John 5) and begins to preach (in her English accent) about "that great number of sick, blind, lame and withered who nourish hope i n the troubled waters and arrogantly expect to be saved without knowing Christ and denying his grace." 4 5 Then she proceeds to ask those proud individuals to believe i n Christ before the gates close. Described here i s c l e a r l y one of the evangelical c i r c l e s which arose from the ministry of Lord Radstock as early as 1874. As E. Heier suspects, Chertkov's mother, Elena Ivanovna Chertkova, brought Radstock to Russia, whereupon under Pashkov evangelical services came to be hosted i n the homes of St. Petersburg's e l i t e . These services were simple, and included prayer, singing, Bible reading and spontaneous explanation of the passage. The messages were likewise straightforward: the way to God was to be found i n the atoning work of Christ, and a l l were invited to surrender th e i r l i v e s to Christ and be saved. 4 6 4 4Smena 154. "Te x e jrwuGMGpHbie JTW43 j iByx TOPHHMHMX, . . . CTspwHH tcy^ep . . . KOTopoMy pa3 HaBcer^ a 33npGw,GH0 6bi.no maasaTb CBOA HewcTOBbift peB, Bee Ta x e CMecb HCKpaHHGH M rjiyfioKoft Bepw, npocToaywHOH TynocTH, HCTepkwecKoro noatGMa i iyxa, C 3aTaGHHbIM XOJIOnCTBOM H HH3MGHHblMH HCK3T6J1 bCTB3MM." 4 5Smena 155. "BGJIHKOG M H O X G C T B O 6ojibHbix, ciiGnbix, xpoMbix, MCCOXWHX nnTaioT OXHitaHHG Ha MyTHyiO BOny H HMGIOT BblCOKOMCpHOG MHGHHG CnaCTMCb, H 6 3Hafl XpMCTa M OTBcpras 6jiaroa3Tb Ero." 146 As the evangelical Elena Ivanovna i s concerned with her son's s p i r i t u a l state as he turns to Tolstoy and eastern r e l i g i o n , 4 7 so too Kla r i s a i s concerned for the soul of Andrei (here we see another r e f l e c t i o n of Chertkov i n Mansurov). After the service, however, Mansurov explains to his aunt that the whole service seemed to him "foreign and completely a l i e n to the s p i r i t of the Russian people." 4 8 When his aunt i n s i s t s that the majority of the f a i t h f u l are the very Russian people, Mansurov can only object that they are a l l i n her service. He sees his aunt as one concerned for the people only insofar as they become evangelical Christians, and secretly condemns her for her pa t e r n a l i s t i c attitude towards them. That E r t e l ' s hero does not i n thi s instance r e f l e c t the views of his author, i s shown by the fact that E r t e l perceived Russian evangelicalism to be closer to the struggle than Mansurov's impression would lead one to believe. This i s evident i n the way E r t e l rebuked his friend M. N. Chistiakov for his disdainful attitude towards Chertkov's mother: "How can you demand," E r t e l asked, "that she do good i n your way, and not her own?" He explained i n the same l e t t e r that to attack others within the struggle was counterproductive because the struggle was only for conquering e v i l . 4 9 46E. Heier, Religious Schism i n the Russian Aristocracy 1860-1900 (The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1970) 20ff. 4 7See A.N. Wilson's Tolstoy (New York: W W Norton, 1988) 343ff. 4 8Smena 157. "KaxeTCfl nepeeoaoM c MHOCTpaHHoro M coBepiueHHO HyxjibiM i i y x y pyccKoro Hapoaa . " 147 As i f to show him the way home, Mansurov meets i n the next episode a group of "steppe-dwellers" who impress him with t h e i r "nature, truth, simplicity, and l i f e . " 5 0 These include Egor Gnevyshev, who plans to serve on the zemstvo, Elena Prytkova, a populist who hopes to teach i n the v i l l a g e school, Agafokl Tselokupskii, a lawyer, Nagaitsev, a doctor and anarchist, Bushmarin, a populist a r t i s t , and others. If at f i r s t he has everyone's label determined, as the v i s i t progresses these c l a s s i f i c a t i o n s become confused: the Tolstoyan announces his rejection of Tolstoy, for instance, so that " i t became impossible to t e l l who was the populist, who the s o c i a l i s t , and who the l i b e r a l . " 5 1 In the end, however, Alferov brought order: You, Ferapontov, are going to the country to be a doctor. You, Boriskin, can only paint v i l l a g e themes. . . . [I]t's a l l for the good of the people. It's not because one's a populist, another a s o c i a l i s t , and you, Afanasy Lukich, follow Tolstoy, but because we ourselves are the people. 5 2 Before leaving the c i t y Mansurov v i s i t s Liudmila Mikhailovna again, but he finds himself bored with her, and f i n a l l y gives her up when he realizes that she has begun an a f f a i r with Rogov. On the t r a i n home he travels with some of his new acquaintances, but chooses to remain alone. With dream-like 4 9Pis'ma 149. "C xaxoH CTaTM Bbi npejui f lBJiaeTe K Hen Taxne TpefioBaHHfl, T O -ecTb, MTo6bi oHa aejiajia itoBpo no - B a w e M y ,a He no -CBoeMy?" 5 0Smena 182. "HaTypa , npaBaa, npocTOTa, XM3Hb" 5 1 Smena 180. " cae j i a j i ocb HeB03M0XH0 pa3o6paTb, KTO xe HapojiHHK, M counaj iHCT, H JiM6epaji." 5 2smena 180. 148 images of a l l his St. Petersburg relatives and acquaintances flashing before his eyes, uttering t h e i r respective credos, Mansurov exclaims: "What wild dissonance! What noise! How everything moves and f l i e s , making haste to disappear i n the abyss without suspecting i t ! " 5 3 With confused thoughts and a sense of despair Mansurov goes home unable to find meaning i n any of the answers offered to Kretov's question: "What i s the meaning of l i f e ? " The extreme options, "to l i v e and l e t l i v e " or to organize a commune, he finds untenable. He finds evangelical piety contrary to the Russian s p i r i t , and service to the people too confusing and "prosaic." He, whose ancestors had "saved Rome," refused to accept Alferov's modest proposal to "press close to the land" 5 4 through service on the l o c a l zemstvo. It would be easy to underestimate the role of E r t e l ' s friendship with Chertkov i n the situation i n the novel and the c o n f l i c t outlined above. As Garrett observes, between the two men "there was an almost complete divergence of views;" 5 5 nevertheless, t h e i r deep friendship survived through several years of debate. One thing that E r t e l wished to convince his friend of was that the individual l i f e needed to be held i n balance by the corporate l i f e , 5 6 for he perceived i n Chertkov's 5 3Smena 2 2 5 . "KaKaf l cyMacfipoziHafl pa3Horojiocni4a! KaKofi r y j i ! KaK Bee aBHxeTCfl M jieTHT, Toponacb MCMe3HyTb B ny4MHe H He noao3peBafl o TOM!" 5 4Smena 166. "npHHHKHM Tbi, HanpMMep, K 3eMJie. . . ." 5 5 G a r r e t t , v i i . 149 ascetic passion a certain rejection of modest ef f o r t s or "small deeds" undertaken for the good of society within i n s t i t u t i o n s . So the friendship between Mansurov and Alferov that i s strengthened through debate r e f l e c t s a similar r e a l - l i f e bond between E r t e l and Chertkov. The Struggle As Alferov suggests, the struggle was to be understood as a force which gathered together individuals of diverse persuasions around the task of seeking the common good. His understanding closely r e f l e c t s E r t e l ' s idea that serving the people was more important than any pa r t i c u l a r agenda, whether populist or otherwise. As Parsons notes: [Ertel's] view of Russia and his formulae of s o c i a l behaviour were based upon a profoundly moral and reasoned individual outlook, which was independent of sectional interests and party programmes, having i t s roots i n the Christian t r a d i t i o n . 5 7 Some of those engaged i n the struggle i n Smena were superfluous i n t h e i r own right, for the present circumstances did not allow them to pursue careers for which they had trained. Afanasy Boriskin, a populist a r t i s t , found that as he t r i e d to paint his "A Last Farewell" (depicting emigrants as they set out on the road) he could not j u s t i f y his work i n the same way as the rest of his family did more urgent and p r a c t i c a l jobs. Besides, he 5 6Pis'ma 168. "Pa3yMHoe coeaHHehme MH4MBMZiyajibHOCTH M o6w,ero, JIHMHWX 3 a n p 0 C 0 B 5KM3HM H 0 6 m G M G J I 0 B 6 M e C K H X — B O T B MGM BOnpOC." 5 7Parsons, 191. 150 was interrupted with requests for portr a i t s and to repaint the iconostasis which was peeling. As i t turned out, when Boriskin declined he was chastized for f a i l i n g both God and his family, and so decided to fi n d a v i l l a g e inhabited by other members of the i n t e l l i g e n t s i a . In the meantime, however, he needed money, so he joined the s t a t i s t i c s department. Others joined Boriskin there because of s i m i l a r l y unfavourable circumstances. Ferapontov, trained as a doctor, found that he could not treat patients during the typhoid epidemic, but could only c e r t i f y and write reports since proper treatment required more hygienic conditions, and less poverty and ignorance. An aspiring member of the town council, Bushmarin needed employment while he waited for his populist dissertation to be published. These and many more find a temporary solution working as s t a t i s t i c i a n s under Fedor Prytkov, whose duty i t i s as Chief of S t a t i s t i c s to employ people i n the work of compiling data on demographics, agriculture, deaths, taxes, prices of goods and the l i k e . In addition he selects and trains individuals for active service i n the zemstvo. As i t was not taken for granted that the zemstvo was the proper means to channel one's e f f o r t s , i n seeking candidates Prytkov i s not always successful. On one occasion, for instance, he i s discouraged to learn that an ideal candidate (an extraordinarily p o l i t e , attentive and sincere youth) sees the zemstvo as founded on n i h i l i s t i c ideas. This student intends to consult John of Kronstadt when he finishes his course because he feels that he can not manage without 151 proper s p i r i t u a l guidance i n the present perplexing times. Prytkov also seeks out Mansurov, whom Alferov had recommended, although Mansurov hesitates. In spite of opposition, then, Prytkov's department becomes a place of confluence. Against the opposition of both " a n t i -n i h i l i s t s " and those who f i n d the philosophy of small deeds uncompelling, Prytkov defends his b e l i e f i n the peaceful means of struggle, a b e l i e f i n an evolutionary view of progress, and hope i n i n s t i t u t i o n s . As he explains: We a l l know examples of superbly organized, honest, progressive zemstva. . . . This i s not because such and such a zemstvo i s wholly good, . . . but because here and there are two or three men, or many dozens . . . and i t suddenly happens that there are enough of them to give taste to the porridge. A mass of people . . . i s always a mass, that i s , soft, formless dough. . . . Enter i t as a l i v e and active element; become a ferment, leaven, yeast... You can be sure the dough w i l l r i s e leavened! 5 8 Serving on the zemstvo i s Alferov, a merchant, philanthropist, and for Mansurov a person of goodwill, as evidenced p a r t i c u l a r l y i n his e f f o r t s to open a public l i b r a r y . On one occasion Alferov affirms that " a l l roads lead to Rome,"59 which i s consistent with his conciliatory approach to the various ways to serve the people, whether on the zemstvo or i n honest trade. In Alferov and Prytkov one sees reflections of I l ' i a Finogenych i n Gardeniny, and examples of those "more capable i n the struggle." 5 8Smena 3 5 6 . (as translated by Parsons, 184) 5 9Smena 3 4 6 . "Bee aoporn BeayT B PHM." 152 How E r t e l envisaged Alesha i s best explained i n a l e t t e r to Nikolaev dated 6 March 1891: "In a l l honesty I ' l l say that the peasant i n t e l l i g e n t s i a , only concerned about the soul and truth, . . . digging into the holy fathers and the scriptures, and seeking a new f a i t h . . . as far as I'm concerned offers a greater hope of progress than the notorious raznochinets." 6 0 A few months l a t e r he explained, again to Nikolaev: I've written that my sympathies are more with the Aleshas than the raznochinets . . . because the Aleshas are more free than Bazarov and his heirs. That strange and complicated way i n which Aleshas seek the truth . . . can lead one into a swamp, but i t has i t s merits: here everything i s put to the test, experienced . . . so that everything i s one's own (syoe), not taken from books or theories, i . e . someone else's (chuzhikh). 6 1 Alesha plays no small role i n the novel. In fact he can be regarded as Mansurov's double, or a l t e r ego, for as Andrei's philosophy leads to despair, Alesha's takes him through depression and into a l i f e of learning and service. The fact which underscores t h i s kinship and doubling i s t h e i r l i t e r a l kinship: much to her surprise, and d i s b e l i e f , Elizaveta learns that her pupil Alesha i s actually a cousin because they shared the same grandfather. 6 2 6 0Pis'ma 249. " M no coe-ecm CKaxy, MyxwuKafl MHTejiJinreHu,nfl, Ta, MTO Bcero xjionoHeT o ayuje aa o npaBae . . . M poe-rcfl B TBopeHHflx CBflTbix OTU,OB, B CB. rmcaHMH, MUST HOBOH eepw . . . zuifl MeHfl fiojiee 3ajior nporpecca. Hexejw npecjioByTbift pa3.H04WHeu,." 6 1Pis'ma 277. 6 2smena 87. 153 Er t e l ' s desire to write a saint's l i f e i s most c l e a r l y seen i n Alesha, for Alesha's development follows the pattern of the t r a d i t i o n a l v i t a : As a youth he i s "set apart" as a contemplative, his journey i s then overseen by an elder, and he becomes a person of influence as a result of his piety and learning. Given copies of the Psalter, the Bible and the Patericon by his (presumed) grandfather, Alesha reads these works with great interest even as a youth. At f i r s t , however, his readings render him "a nervous youth with a feverish g l i t t e r i n his eyes and a look of anguish and perplexity." 6 3 Then he meets a learned elder who gives him hope i n reason and the writings of the Church fathers. L i t t l e by l i t t l e his piety (he takes a vow of chastity) and learning bring him considerable attention, and Alesha himself i s sought out as an elder. Soon, however, Alesha finds himself once again perplexed. He finds that the way of the scriptures denies l i f e , whereas the way of reason affirms i t , and thi s presents him with bewildering dualisms, where matter, s i n, and truth are either denied or rejected. Through t h i s , too, Alesha finds his way with a healthy inquisitiveness and the conclusion that "Where the S p i r i t of the Lord i s , there i s freedom." This idea allows him to "accept everything" while recognizing the limitations of any one way of knowing. 6 4 6 3Smena 81. "HepBHoro lOHOiuy c JiHxopaao^HbiM 6 j i e c K 0 M B rji333X, c BbipaxeHMeM K3K0H-TQ T O C K H H p3CTSpflHHOCTH." 154 By Part II Alesha has had considerable influence on Elizaveta. Frustrated with her brother's attitude towards Alesha's bold efforts to know the "unknowable," Elizaveta admits now that she i s no longer ind i f f e r e n t to questions of "God, the soul and eternity," and believes (unlike before) that "our intimate l i n k with . . . and a true understanding of the people w i l l come about only once we have become brothers. . . . No, I don't study Alesha. I am t e r r i b l y happy that I love him, and that his ideas are neither simply amusing nor ethnographic material." 6 5 i n fact now she delights i n the prospect of joining Alesha on a pilgrimage, and being part of that great company of people who can say "We have no earthly c i t y , but seek the one to come."66 Before his pilgrimage Alesha i s tempted by a certain Agaf'ia, a member of his fellowship, who wishes to seduce him as they make th e i r way to an evening service. "We can repent afterwards," she suggests, but Alesha w i l l not give i n . "The 64Smena 97. " H a e x e a y x rocnoaeHb, TYT C B o S o a a / ' Alesha does not f i t neatly into any of the sects of late nineteenth-century Russia. With his desire to "accept everything" he r e f l e c t s Ivan Fedotych's s p i r i t u a l i t y ; i n other ways his a c t i v i t i e s can be compared to those of the Stundists (house meetings of prayer and Scripture reading), who did not break with the Orthodox Church u n t i l the 1870's. See Andrew Blane's "Protestant Sects i n Late Imperial Russia," The Religious World of Russian Culture; Russia and Orthodoxy: Volume I I . ed. A. Blane (The Hague: Mouton, 1975) 272-3. 6 5Smena 240. "HHTHMHafl, ayweBHaf l Hawa CBfl3b c HapoaoM—H . . , HCTHHHOG noHHMaHwe Hapoaa—HacTynHT jiHiub -roraa, Korzta MW 6yaeM QpaTbnMH. . , , Her, HGT, A He M3yHaio A j i e m y . yxacHO p a z t a , HTO JIIO6JIIO e ro , HTO j r u f l MGHA e ro MWCJIH He Kypbe3 H He B T H o r p a t t w - i e c K M P i MatepHaji ." 6*5Smena 247. " «He MMaMbi 3ae npeSbmaioma r p a a a , HO r p f l a y m e r o B3bicKyeM»" 155 Kingdom of heaven," he responds, " i s found through e f f o r t , not sin. If you had pure reason I would explain t h i s , but you are stupid." 6 7 At the service (of readings and songs) the whole group i s tempted by a v i s i t i n g sectarian to give up the church, icons and clergy, and accept only the authority of the Bible. This Alesha counters with what might be seen as his credo, when the guest asks how he proposes to find the truth i f not through the Scriptures: "[I]n pure reason, i f you wish to know. It can be found i n the Scriptures, i n Socrates the pagan, i n books and songs . . . and even i n you and me."68 He adds that to l i v e the holy l i f e means to give to those i n need. In t h i s way Alesha's l i f e serves as a bridge, as i t were, between opposite means of struggle. His i m p l i c i t rejection of cu l t u r e 6 9 i n his quest for the heavenly c i t y echoes, and endorses, the evangelical protestant assumption that the people could "come to Christ" i n a c u l t u r a l l y neutral way, without regard for the i r Russian heritage. At the same time his l i f e does not distance him from the people, for he meets with his community to seek the Truth and to help those i n need. These actions attract a populist, Elizaveta, who might otherwise have 6 7Smena 264. " — A Mbi noKaeMCfl... a? — . . . uapcTBHe HefiecHoe Mepe3 y c H J i n e , a He 4epe3 r p e x n . Ka6w T b i wweaa B ce6e M W C T b i f i pa3yw, a 6w pacT0flK.o&aji Te6e, a TO TW rjiyna. . . ." 6 8Smena 269. "CHJia B MHCTOM pa3yMe, KOJIH xoMeiiJb 3HaTb, — O H xe ecTb H B riHCaHHH, H B O H B C0KpaTe-fl3M4HHKe, H B KHMXK3X, H B neCHflX . . . H B HaC C T 0 6 0 H . " *>9For a study of the t r a d i t i o n a l ways i n which C h r i s t i a n i t y has related to culture, see H. Richard Niebuhr's Christ and Culture (New York: Harper and Row, 1951) 45ff. 156 engaged i n a wholly secular struggle, and give her reason to hope i n the eternal significance of the struggle. Thus Alesha's community comes to symbolize the confluence which Elizaveta saw occurring i n Russian society. In conclusion, Smena holds i n e r t i a and the struggle i n tension i n two p r i n c i p a l ways. F i r s t l y , Mansurov, i n spite of his i n e r t i a , i s not to be seen as e n t i r e l y superfluous. Secondly, the inertia/struggle tension i s paralleled and supported by the i n d i v i d u a l / c o l l e c t i v e c o n f l i c t , so that i n the end a re a l tension, and therefore choice, remains. In his recent study of the superfluous type i n Russian l e t t e r s , David Patterson t r i e s to understand superfluity "from within," rather than consider the type largely i n terms of his alienation from society, as conventionally understood. 7 0 Instead his " d i f f i c u l t y l i e s i n the f a i l u r e of encounter; the word i s offered but i s not received." He mimics and remains within the "safe confines of the imprint on a page," f a i l s to act on his word, and lacks a relationship with the Sacred. 7 1 Mansurov, i n fact, f i t s Patterson's mold well. He "mimics" other pessimists i n his poetry (which to F i d l e r was unoriginal); he speaks l i t t l e at s o c i a l gatherings, so that his character i s 7 % i l l i a m Harkins, for example, describes the superfluous man as "a hero who i s sensitive to s o c i a l and e t h i c a l problems but who f a i l s to act, partly because of personal weakness, partly because of p o l i t i c a l and s o c i a l restraints." Dictionary of Russian Literature (London: Allen, 1957) 373. 7 l D a v i d Patterson, E x i l e : The Sense of Alienation i n Modern Russian Letters (U Press of Kentucky, 1995) 4ff. 157 revealed more i n his writing than anything else; he preaches Buddhist ideas but does not practise them; f i n a l l y , he i s i n practice an agnostic because God i s u t t e r l y unknowable. In general, the d i v e r s i t y of thought and opinion presents i t s e l f to him only as "wild dissonance," so that he i s ultimately unable to encounter the Word. At the same time the struggle i s not e a s i l y entered. This i s true f i r s t because of i t s ambiguous nature, whereby those who engaged i n i t represented diverse paths and convictions. The student whom Prytkov interviewed emphasized th i s fact i n requiring s p i r i t u a l guidance. Second, some individuals are by circumstance more free to j o i n . The "poison" which Elizaveta had inherited had made her open to the struggle, while i t s absence i n Andrei had made him reluctant to pursue small deeds. Instead he thought of action i n terms of "saving Rome" and defending his class against the forces of change. For t h i s reason his accidental death could be seen as inevitable, and patterned after the deaths of Turgenev's heroes (Insarov, et a l . ) . 7 2 '^Although there would be some disagreement here. Gol'tsev, for instance, wrote: "It seems to me that the pattern [referring to Fedor Prytkov's idea that Mansurov's death represented "the schematic depiction of the gentry's l o t " ] had not smothered l i f e , that there might have been for Mansurov a reasonable alternative, and that Ecclesiastes and Liudmila Mikhailovna had not k i l l e d his v i t a l a c t i v i t y . " Gol'tsev, V.A. "Raznochinets i dvorianskaia kul'tura," Literaturnye ocherki (Moscow, 1895): 8 ("HaM ayMaeTCfl, MTO cxeMa He noKpwjia XH3HM, MTO aJifl MaHcypoBa Mor 6biTb H pa3yMHblfl BblXC-a, 3KKJie3MaCT H JllOJIMHJia MHXaHJIOBHa He y0MJIH B HeM XM3Heaef lTej ibH0CTH."). This view f a i l s to take Mansurov's despair seriously, however. 158 Although Mansurov's death f a i l s to reconcile his mourners, i t does serve to bring out the value of his l i f e . At his funeral one individual tries to speak for him by saying that a l l "dreams of l i f e , a family, farming and the zemstvo . . . are complete nonsense," and that l i f e was only useful insofar as i t prepared us for death. 7 3 Elena Prytkova, who loved Mansurov, feels offended by this view, protesting: "I hate your 'march of things, * do you hear? . . . To suffer and be tormented is better than your nirvana . . . or to forget that he lived, thought and strove . . . not so very long ago . . . and so kindly." 7 4 Elena's defense of Mansurov brings out at least one reason to admire a man believed to be gripped by inertia: she argues that the fact that he lived and thought and strove spoke far more against a meaningless "march of things" than could anything that he actually said or strove for. Ultimately Mansurov i s not "to blame," for his goodness has had some role to play in the lives of those around him. The individual vs. collective conflict is brought out by the fact that the quest for the heavenly city, whether in aunt Klarisa's or in Alesha's way, is made a real option. Ertel stands behind Alesha not only because he saw in his type considerable freedom and a voice of his own, but because his l i f e involved quest. That search, which as we saw took the form 73Smena 380. "MeMTbi o XM3HM , ceMbfl, X O 3 A M C T B O , 3eMCTB0, . . . Bee 3TO a6cojnoTHbifi esxop. ..." 74Smena 382. "HenaBHxy saw <xos Beuiefi . . .» CnbiiuHTe JIH? . . . My^HTbCfl, CTpaaaTb — Jiymue, Hexejin Baiua HHPBSHS . . . Hexejw 3a6biTb, MTO BOT OH X M J I , M b l C J l H J I . CTpeMHJICfl . . . M T3K eilje HeflaBHO . . . W T3K JiaCKOBO. . . ." 159 of the saint's l i f e , inspired Elizaveta to seek "the heavenly c i t y " and to delight i n doing so. At the same time Elizaveta's experience i s dynamic, and her experience points to the dangers of neglecting present concerns. After t h e i r pilgrimage she and Alesha are welcomed back by t h e i r "brothers and s i s t e r s , " who enjoy hearing Alesha's account of the i r encounters with people of diverse sects and of his unswerving insistence on "pure reason." The attention he i s given results i n a misunderstanding between him and Elizaveta, however, and she accuses him of pursuing his theology for i t s own sake, while showing less concern for the people. Through this f i n a l scene, then, Elizaveta comes to embody the individual vs. c o l l e c t i v e tension: she has sought the "world to come" with Alesha, but for her the struggle must s t i l l include service to the people. 160 Part Three "Counter Idea" In speaking of E r t e l ' s philosophy as one of compromise, Bunin at the same time drew attention to i t s dynamic quality, whereby E r t e l saw l i f e " i n a new, ever-changing l i g h t . " 1 If from 1889 to 1891 and i n his novels E r t e l was generally hopeful about Russia's future through Providence and "the struggle," i n 1892 a "counter idea" philosophy began to be e x p l i c i t i n his writings. While i n his novels dialogue was already at work and a prosaic, anti-cataclysmic outlook on history was i m p l i c i t , i n his l a s t works he hesitated to synthesize, grew increasingly suspicious of laws which guarantee progress, and devoted greater attention to individual, e x i s t e n t i a l concerns. 2 From 1891 onwards E r t e l had s u f f i c i e n t reason to question his confidence i n "small deeds." To begin, he had observed considerable misery as he worked with victims of the famine i n 1891, and had received l i t t l e help from the zemstvo i n his building of a v i l l a g e school the following year. 3 Further, his Bunin, Memories and P o r t r a i t s , trans. V. T r a i l l and R. Chancellor (London: John Lehmann, 1951) 129. 2According to Emerson and Morson, the most notable "Counter Idea" thinkers include (the early) Tolstoy, Herzen, Chekhov, Bakhtin, and the Vekhi writers. See Morson, "Time and the I n t e l l i g e n t s i a " 84; C. Emerson and G.S. Morson, Mikhail Bakhtin: Creation of a Prosaics (Stanford UP, 1990) 23. It seems appropriate that N. Duddington (nee Ertel) should have studied (under N. 0. Lossky) and translated works of the Russian religious renaissance, especially N. Berdiaev's The Destiny of Man, S. Frank's God With Us, and N. O. Lossky's The Intuitive Basis of Knowledge. 161 effo r t s were complicated by the debts which he had incurred, while his v i s i o n for a small society of civic-minded individuals had met with discouragement. 4 On 16 August 1892 he wrote to Chertkov: Our times seem to me distressingly d i f f i c u l t and mysterious... I s t i l l believe that everything i s getting better, but i t ' s also true that the road i n that direction seems to e n t a i l unusual deviations towards e v i l . It's sad to see how darkness thickens, and that i n the struggle against i t only a few flames f l i c k e r . 5 In A p r i l 1895 he would write, again to Chertkov: "[S]ometimes I think that work i n the public sector i s completely f r u i t l e s s i n our dear land." 6 Eventually E r t e l came to see i n his society the sort of "anarchy . . . depicted by Shchedrin i n The History of Glupov [ I s t o r i i a odnogo goroda, 1869]," and conclude that " [ i ] t ' s frightening to l i v e i n t h i s 'moment' of the h i s t o r i c a l process." 7 3See Er t e l ' s "Makar'evskoe popechitel'stvo" ("The Trusteeship of Makar'e") RM 1 (1893). 4As S. Garrett notes: "In a l e t t e r [of 1894] to M. I. Tokmakova, brim-full with enthusiasm and optimism, [Ertel] writes of his hopes for the formation of a group of educated, like-minded people who w i l l take on the defence of peasant interests of every kind and organise free, voluntary medical assistance, loan f a c i l i t i e s , a farm management station and educational t r i p s for children. . . . E r t e l never again reached quite that height of enthusiasm i n his correspondence" (xxn-I I I ) . 5Pis'ma 290. 6Pis'ma 333. "HHorjia a ayMaio o coBeptueHHoPi BecruiOAHOCTH o6w£CTBeHHOH aeflTeJibHOCTH B npeaejiax Hawero Jno6e3Horo OTeHecTBa." 7Pis'ma 364. "aHapxna . . . KOTopyio H3o6pa3HJi U4eapMH B HCTOPHH ropoaa fjiynoBa. Xyrxo x m b B STOM «M0MeHTe» MCTopn«HecKoro npouecca." 162 As E r t e l considered the proper course of action given his circumstances, he met with extremes: "I fe e l organically repulsed at the idea of Revolution understood as aggression, [and the way of personal self-perfection] interests me l i t t l e . " 8 What he began to seek as a t h i r d way was a more foundational, less conspicuous, means of action aimed at the transformation of society through "practical a c t i v i t y devoted to ra i s i n g the material and moral l e v e l of the peasantry," 9 and the inculcation of good "habits." The course of action which suited E r t e l s t i l l r eflected his passion for compromise, which was i n any case now tempered by the r e a l i z a t i o n that what his country needed was not "perestroika," for there was nothing to rebuild, but to lay the kind of foundation for a stable society. As he wrote i n October 1898, "Throughout Russian history there have been countless ideas and fantasies, but no 'habits,' unless one counts disorderly habits i n a l l spheres of l i f e . " 1 0 If during his time the clergy tended to see i n Ch r i s t i a n i t y , as V. Ternavtsev observed, "only a 'beyond the grave' id e a l , leaving behind the s o c i a l dimension of l i f e , " 1 1 while the ra d i c a l i n t e l l i g e n t s i a 8Pis'ma 3 3 4 . " K peBOJHou.HH B cMbicjie HacMJiHfl s\ MYBCTBYIO opraHMHecKoe OTBpameHHe, [xnTb B c<t>epe HpaBCTBeHHoro, jiMHHoro c a M o y c o B e p i u e H C T B O B a H M f l ] Majio MeHfl HHTepecyeT," 9Parsons, 188. l°Pis'ma 3 7 0 . "B pyccKOH HCTOPHH HaePi H $aHT33HH yxacHO MHOPO, ^HSBWKOB* xe HHIOKHX , ecjiH He C4HT3Tb H 3 B M K 0 B K GecnopaaKy peiuHTejibHO BO Bcex ccjjepsx X H 3 H H . . . ." 163 was confident i n a bright future within history, Ertel's v i a media was to participate " i n the most intimate interests of the people" and establish common ground with Christ's teachings as a bas i s . 1 2 E r t e l ' s philosophical development now caused him to stress the need for art to be linked intimately with f a i t h . While he continued to i n s i s t that art should be "saturated with the flesh and blood of r e a l i t y , " he now emphasized that c r e a t i v i t y was impoverished i f i t were not "ignited by the flames of r e l i g i o n or a deep philosophical world view." 1 3 With less emphasis on didactic and "panoramic" concerns, E r t e l turned i n his lat e r f i c t i o n towards more subjective concerns. In the remaining chapters we s h a l l examine two works i n which hope i n progress or the Kingdom of Heaven must contend with despair over e v i l and retrogression i n Russia. Men', Kul'tura i dukhovnoe voskhozhdenie (Moscow: Iskusstvo, 1992) 243. V. Ternavtsev, a member of the Holy Synod, was sympathetic to the concerns of the i n t e l l i g e n t s i a with regards to the Church. 12pis 'ma 3. "npMHHMafl ynacTMe B caMbix HHTHMHbix HHTBpecax [wapoaa]." 13pis 'ma 304-6. "OopMyjibi xyaoxHHKa Bceraa JHOJIXHW 6biTb HanoeHbi ruioTbio H KpOBbK) aeHCTBMTejibHOCTH"; "TBOpHGCTBO OCKyZlGBaGT, KOriia OHO HG COrpGTO ruiaMeHeM pejwrHH HJIH rjiyGoKoro 0HJioco<t)CKoro MHpoB0 33peHMfl,•• 164 Chapter Five Hope and Despair i n "Dukhovidtsy" On 3 August 1893 E r t e l wrote to Gol'tsev: "In three months or so I ' l l probably have a manuscript for you. But th i s manuscript i s coming out sad, and, indeed, out of obligation; not just i n the crude sense of the word, but i n the delicate sense too, but nevertheless out of obligation." 1 E r t e l was referring to "Dukhovidtsy," ("Clairvoyants," RM, 1893), a story i n which e x i s t e n t i a l questions of death, hope and ultimate meaning are raised. At the heart of the story there i s profound despair; society appears to be concerned only with petty a f f a i r s and e v i l seems to thwart progress and charity, although a somewhat perplexed narrator's hope suggests a response. The writing of "Dukhovidtsy" took place during those years when symbolism was f i r s t taking root i n Russia i n the early 1890's, and Er t e l " s story c l e a r l y r e f l e c t s that trend with i t s "decadent" themes of suicide, the extraordinary, the search for a r e a l i t y beyond th i s world and i t s fear that the beyond was e v i l and demonic. Er t e l ' s acquaintance with Garshin, who i n 1888 committed suicide, and Garshin's stories of the early 1880's which i n some ways anticipate the symbolist trend, must have served as some motivation for Ertel's turn towards such themes. In a speech on Garshin E r t e l wrote: i p i s 'ma 325. "[M]ecflu,a Hepe3 T p n a, BepoflTHO, CMory npeaiflBHTb BSM HeKOTopyio p y K o n n c b . Ho p y K o n n c b 3Ta ocymecTBJifleTCfl He B e c e j i o H, npsBo, n o m w no 06fl33HH0CTM, T.-e. He B OilHOM rpy (50M 3H3MeHHH 3T0r0 CJI0B3, 3 M B JieJIHKSTHOM, HO BCe-T3KH—no 06fl33HH0CTM." 165 I can only tremble as I think of those s p i r i t u a l torments which he must have endured as he was reviewing and r e v i v i f y i n g his impressions in order to write such things as Four Days, Recollections of Private Ivanov, Red Flower, and Nadezhda Nikolaevnal . . . In his prime and the most joyous time of his l i f e he became acquainted with the horrors of the most savage and incomprehensible side of human l i f e . . . . 2 Despite the "dark side" of Garshin's work, E r t e l praised his fellow writer for belonging to the "world of Truth, Goodness and Beauty," and for pointing i n the direction of that world. 3 Perhaps even more direct motivation for "Dukhovidtsy" came from Chekhov's Ward Six (1892), 4 which E r t e l admired, referring to the story as a "profound and masterly work."5 Questions associated with Ragin (in Ward Six) of the insanity of good people (who pursue exclusively s p i r i t u a l matters), immortality, and despair over e f f o r t s to work towards progress associated with Ragin are a l l reflected i n Raich and I g n a t i i Vasil'evich i n Ertel's story. In E r t e l ' s "Dukhovidtsy," as i n Garshin's stories and Chekhov's "Ward Six," e v i l and despair speak loudly. In this 2A. I. E r t e l , "0 Garshine," i n Krasnyi tsvetok (St. Petersburg, 1889) 48. 3 E r t e l , 0 Garshine 52 f f . 4And, by extension perhaps, Dostoevsky, since Chekhov's story i n many ways r e c a l l s the speech, action and narrative of Brothers Karamazov, as Andrew Durkin argues i n "Chekhov's Response to Dostoevsky: The Case of Ward S i x f " Slavic Review 40 (1981) 49-59. ^Zapiski otdela rukopisei gosud. b i b l i o t e k i im. Lenina (Moscow, 1941) 94. 166 chapter we w i l l study the theme of despair i n "Dukhovidtsy," then consider whether a response of hope i s suggested within the story. 6 Set i n a provincial Russian town, and narrated by a l o c a l resident, "Dukhovidtsy" i s a "case study" ( l i k e Smena) i n philosophical pessimism. In thi s instance, however, the protagonist's pessimism leads to despair and suicide. What distinguishes the story from the novel i s i t s attention to the uncanny, as well as the fact that the new pessimist has actually engaged i n the "struggle" and grown weary of i t . Raich, the main character and a newcomer to the town, i s a wealthy, s o l i t a r y man who can be cold and abrupt. His background i s sketchy: he has spent some time i n internal e x i l e , which suggests his involvement with revolutionaries, and has recently helped with famine r e l i e f . Another central figure i n the story i s I g n a t i i Vasil'evich, a sort of holy fool with interests i n philosophy, metaphysics, and the simple l i f e i n the manner of Tolstoy. What distinguishes him from Raich i s that his depression has not reached despair, although his obsession with "mystical places" i s of great concern to his wife. At a regular gathering i n Ignati i Vasil'evich's home, his wife, Nina Arkad'evna, explains the reasons for her husband's condition: l i f e i n the country had given him an interest i n philosophical "nonsense" and made him emotionally disturbed. There he had claimed to hear the wind's enchanting music i n the ^See Appendix A for a study of the p a r a l l e l s between Chekhov's "The Head Gardener's Tale" (1894) and this story. shed, had come to love the worst seasons of the year, and from his walks to Fedino (a stretch of r i v e r where years before his friend had drowned along with a herd of horses) he would return a different man. Afraid for her husband's sanity she moved him to town, where he was now i n s t a l l e d i n the c i v i l service. Eventually, alone with the narrator and Raich i n his study around the fireplace, I g n a t i i Vasil'evich turns out the lamps and t e l l s his listeners about "Grachi" ("Rooks"): a "mystical" place by a r i v e r where nature's great suffering i s intensely f e l t , and whose inherent e v i l i s something only the common people understand. As a young man of eighteen he and his best friend Fedia had once f e l t i t s t e r r i f y i n g nature and heard what seemed to be a c a l l for help from a particular stretch of the r i v e r . Later Fedia had drowned i n that spot (for which i t came to be known as Fedino), and I g n a t i i Vasil'evich became convinced that l i f e i s meaningless, and that death, which destroys i n d i v i d u a l i t y , offers no hope of r e c o n c i l i a t i o n , or even nirvana. Raich, whose comments elsewhere r e f l e c t his interest i n theosophy, 7 immediately objects to I g n a t i i Vasil'evich's d i s b e l i e f i n the a f t e r l i f e , upon which I g n a t i i Vasil'evich predicts Raich w i l l shoot himself since he i s not a f r a i d of death. When Ign a t i i Vasil'evich explains how he l o s t Fedia's friendship when he f a i l e d to cover up the fact that Fedia had 7Raich's acquaintance with theosophy i s suggested by his reference to I s i s : "One must dare . . . to look I s i s i n the eyes" ("Haao CMeTb . . . rjiflHyrb B OMM M3nae." SS vol.7, 506). E r t e l deals with theosophy more f u l l y i n the Kar'era Strukova. 168 stolen some apples, Raich t e l l s how he, as an onlooker at Fedia's t r i a l , witnessed the flogging and how Fedia resisted, b i t i n g one of the guards, with an excited mob looking on. "We k i l l e d i n him," Raich exclaims, "the clearest, brightest thing: that which was for him the image of God."8 Raich i n s i s t s , however, that because there i s no good and e v i l , but only a chain of cause and e f f e c t , no one i s to blame for this crime, neither the onlookers, I g n a t i i Vasil'evich, nor I g n a t i i Vasil'evich's father, who had him punished. In fact, there i s nothing to believe i n . As Raich prepares to leave, I g n a t i i Vasil'evich warns the narrator (who has sat through the evening i n s i l e n t d i s b e l i e f ) that Raich intends to shoot himself. On an out-of-town walk with Raich, a now somewhat more sympathetic narrator learns more of Raich's despair. According to Raich, the meaning of l i f e w i l l be found only i n the next world, and one must have f a i t h i n the unknown, so as to have the courage to become one with i t at any moment. As they walk Raich hears some enchanting music, and senses he i s being c a l l e d from the world beyond. He goes on to say that because of e v i l and i n j u s t i c e there cannot be any hope of "heaven on earth, nor God i n heaven."9 I g n a t i i Vasil'evich holds on to l i f e because he has love, but he (Raich), on the other hand, l o s t the woman he loved. Raich believes that any progress w i l l only be temporary, and confesses 8SS vol 7, 500. "Mw y6min B Hew caMte MMtioe, caMoe tBeuioe . . . B KOTOPOM OTpaxajicfl aJifl Hero o6pa3 Bora." 9SS vol 7, 509. "Ha 3eMJie HeT npaBaw, Ha He6e—Bora." 169 he does not have the strength to wait for i t s coming, since he sees no immediate signs. The narrator, deeply moved by th i s pathetic man's condition and confession, invites him home for breakfast. Raich, however, asks for forgiveness as he turns down the i n v i t a t i o n with a look that t e l l s the narrator that he i s the closest person to him on earth. After sleeping through the next day the narrator learns that Raich has taken his own l i f e , at "Grachi." Since that t e r r i b l e event a few days ago passers-by i n town have not ceased to make inqu i r i e s . "Dukhovidtsy" was received enthusiastically by Chekhov, who on reading the story described E r t e l as a "magnificent a r t i s t . " 1 0 I. Dzhonson considered i t one of Er t e l ' s best works, despite the fact that i t was buried i n old journals and was not very popular. In 1908 he wrote "the whole story i s magnificent, f u l l of enchanting l y r i c i s m and profoundly sad beauty." 1 1 Soviet c r i t i c s have not been so enthusiastic, however. Spasibenko's study hardly mentions the story, Kostin wrote that "Dukhovidtsy," along with those works written after i t , "no longer had any s i g n i f i c a n t content;" 1 2 and Nikiforov regarded 1 0A.P. Chekhov ( l e t t e r to E r t e l , 15 Oct 1894), PSSP vol.5:2 (Moscow: Nauka, 1977) 328. H i . Dzhonson, "Zabytyi p i s a t e l ' , " Kievskie v e s t i , 23 June 1908: (page unknown). 12G.A. Kostin, "A.I. E r t e l ' , " i n I s t o r i i a russkoi l i t e r a t u r y v o l . 9 (Moscow-Leningrad: ANSSSR, 1956) 166. 170 the story as flawed and i n f e r i o r to E r t e l 1 s e a r l i e r works because i t s heroes "even communicate with the world beyond." 1 3 "Dukhovidtsy" can be considered E r t e l ' s most psychologically probing work thus far, for i n the story the two p r i n c i p a l characters speak at great length about very personal concerns. 1 4 The setting around the fireplace reinforces the intimacy of the confessions made, while the narrator's increasing s e n s i t i v i t y towards the two men encourages the same. On the surface, the story's tragedy l i e s i n Raich's suicide. To intensify that tragic event the story possesses a remarkable sense of progression and focus, whereby Raich's gradual i s o l a t i o n i s emphasized. In Part I he i s one guest among several at the evening gathering. Before long the guests divide into two groups: one goes into another room to play cards while a second group, which includes I g n a t i i Vasil'evich, Nina Arkad'evna, a certain tax assessor, the narrator, and Raich remains i n the study. Nina Arkad'evna t r i e s to keep th i s group intact (because she i s afraid to leave Raich and her husband alone without adequate supervision) by asking the tax assessor to speak, but the card game has his greater attention. I g n a t i i Vasil'evich, Raich and the narrator are then l e f t i n the study, where I g n a t i i Vasil'evich t e l l s his story, which lasts through the end of Part II. Raich t e l l s his i n Part III, and i s then l e f t alone with the narrator when Ig n a t i i Vasil'evich leaves the l 3 N i k i f o r o v , "Tvorchestvo A. I. E r t e l i a , " abstract, 12. 1 4 T h i s r e f l e c t s E r t e l ' s acquaintance with, especially, Tolstoy's Confession. study. In the f i n a l part the narrator himself t r i e s to avoid further separation, as i t were, by i n v i t i n g Raich home for breakfast and to continue discussing his concerns. Raich, however, turns down the o f f e r and i s l e f t e n t i r e l y alone "to get some rest." The suicide i s the sign and outcome of a more profound tragedy: an intense despair, which l i e s at the heart of the story and revolves around the person of Fedia. For both I g n a t i i Vasil"evich and Raich, Fedia represents a traumatic, tragic memory. For I g n a t i i Vasil'evich the loss of his best friend led him to conclude that there, never would be "peace on earth, goodwill among men,"15 and for Raich the slaying of the image of God i n Fedia served to prove to Raich that there i s neither good and e v i l nor God. Neither i s there room for the two to find comfort i n t h e i r common experience. In t h i s sense the intimacy of t h e i r confessions becomes tr a g i c . Here we s h a l l examine how t h e i r stories build on one another as the theme of despair i s developed. One s t y l i s t i c feature i s worthy of mention at the outset, not only because i t stands out so f o r c e f u l l y but because i t sheds l i g h t on I g n a t i i Vasil'evich"s state of mind and character. When rel a t i n g the story of his loss of Fedia's friendship, I g n a t i i Vasil'evich's ends each of nine digressions with the words "but that's not the point." Since those digressions touch upon the origins of his "mysticism," or suggest unresolved issues between him and his wife or his 15SS vol 7, 494. "Ha 3eMJie MMp H B MejioBeuex 6jiaroBOJieHHe." 172 father, the repetition of the phrase underscores the fact that I g n a t i i Vasil'evich has many concerns, any of which could be spoken of at length. Thus when Raich asks whether suicides occur at "Grachi" regularly, I g n a t i i Vasil'evich might have answered simply and b r i e f l y , but instead he takes advantage of Raich's interest to vent those concerns. While I g n a t i i Vasil'evich's statement might also suggest some degree of incoherence i n his story and lack of concentration, his story i s nevertheless focused, as his despair i s f i r s t expressed generally and theor e t i c a l l y , then s p e c i f i c a l l y and personally. The notion that suffering leads to despair i s raised at the beginning of Ignatii's story: Let me t e l l you, concealed i n the depths of nature i s great suffering. You suppose that nature finds i t e a s y — l i k e water off a duck's back—to destroy, decompose and do e v i l . . . . The whole meaning of [humanity's] existence i s saturated with poison... Yes, just have a look: humanity rejoices, f a l l s i n love, multiplies, sings and dances. Only the most in s i g h t f u l know that i t ' s a l l a dream, vanity, a shadow of the f l e e t i n g mist, and that l i f e i s t e r r i b l e . 1 6 In fact there i s no reason to hope that things w i l l change. Humanity i s i n i t s November, he continues, and what l i e s before us i s war and destruction. As an example of a place where he senses nature's suffering he mentions "Grachi," whose inherent e v i l he feels the way the people do, and predicts that a tragedy w i l l take place there. 1 6SS vol 7, 488. 173 The f i r s t reason for his despair has to do with his mystical experience with nature on the night he went to "Grachi" with Fedia: Suddenly another murmur r o l l e d i n the thicket, sounding l i k e the tramping of horses, neighing, crackling, and a despairing c a l l for help. . . . Losing my senses from fear I once again glanced around the surroundings. The glade was s i l e n t and white, a l l around stood a wall of trees, whose bare tops were covered i n mist. That's a l l there was... Yes, dear s i r s , nature has mysteries other than those fussed over i n laboratories. There are places, sounds, and forms i n which the tragic essence of so-called matter i s revealed with astounding c l a r i t y . I understood t h i s then. I f e l t i t . 1 7 The incident that night, which for him speaks of a future tragedy, i s a turning point i n I g n a t i i Vasil'evich's l i f e . It i s further complicated by his second reason for despair: the loss of his best friend, which causes him to conclude that l i f e has no meaning: I thought humanity could be set on the right path, that the course of history could be ennobled. . . . I used to dream that there was "peace on earth and goodwill among men," and believe that i f to the present a l l signs were to the contrary i t was because history had been mistaken for seven thousand years... I no longer dream or bother. I know that t h i s tragic disorder exists i n nature i t s e l f , that the very essence of existence i s poisoned with meaninglessness, and that there w i l l never be r e c o n c i l i a t i o n , even i n death. What i s death, you ask? Oh, dear s i r s , death i s no more than an intermediate state. Consciousness has nowhere to go, and that's why l i f e i s so t e r r i b l e , as i s death. If only we could hope for the comfort of nirvana... But there's no such thing. There can't be. There won't be. Before us l i e s a most 17SS vol 7, 493-4. 174 certain eternity, and that i s the most b i t t e r and true thing one could devise. 1 8 I g n a t i i Vasil'evich comes to believe that friendship i s impossible between master and servant. Fedia, planning to get married, begins to avoid him as he feels the pressure of his peasant class to break t i e s with his friend. In r e t a l i a t i o n I g n a t i i Vasil'evich f a i l s to protect Fedia when he i s caught stealing, and i s then paid back with a cynical laugh when he t r i e s to apologize. He loses his best friend for good when Fedia drowns with the herd of horses. In contrast to I g n a t i i Vasil'evich's story, Raich's speech i s blunt, to the point, controlled and monotonous. As i t becomes more personal (in the f i n a l part) his story i s t o l d , remarks the narrator, as i n excerpts from a book containing his l i f e ' s thoughts and f e e l i n g s . 1 9 These q u a l i t i e s r e f l e c t his introspection and mental anguish, both of which become e x p l i c i t i n his story. What takes one by surprise about Raich's story i s the fact that he was actually present at Fedia's flogging. He begins by describing the court scene orchestrated by grey-bearded, indifferent "patriarchs" who order Fedia's birch lashings as an excited mob looks on. On his way to his punishment Fedia bites someone's hand, causing quite a s t i r and provoking extra lashes. 18SS vol 7, 494. 1 9SS vol 7, 511. "Ka3ajiocb, MTO B H V T P M OH MHTaeT KaKyio-TO rjojibujyio KHHry: BCIO CBOK) XH3Hb C e e MblCJIflMH H 4y BCTB3MM, H TOJIbKO KOpOTKHe OTpblBKH H3 3T0H KHHTH n p 0 H 3 H 0 C H T BCJiyX," 175 Raich shows how appalled he was with the whole scene, and even includes himself, an onlooker, i n the blame for Fedia's torture: Raich suddenly pulled his hands away from his face. I cannot express the i n f i n i t e sadness which i t revealed. 'Murder,' he said. 'In fact i t was worse than murder, you know. We k i l l e d the purest, brightest thing i n him... With our f i l t h y hands we soiled and d e f i l e d that transparent source that reflected the image of God i n him... Yes, and we're even pleased with ourselves that we brought him down to our l e v e l . ' 2 0 In blaming everyone, however, he blames no one: 'Comfort yourself,' he said [addressing I g n a t i i V asil'evich]. 'You're not to blame for t h i s , neither i s your father, nor the judges, the butchers, nor even that aesthete of t o r t u r e — t h e tavern-keeper's son. Everything runs just l i k e an engine, i n which the steam i s raised without our knowledge.21 In fact, since everything runs "just l i k e an engine," Raich offers a rational explanation for the tragedy. He suggests that on the night before his death by drowning Fedia himself went to that stretch with an axe i n hand, s l i t the ice, then covered i t over with snow. He knew that when the i c e cracked and the sound rang out l i k e a shot the horses would crowd together, p i l e up and go to the bottom. 2 2 While Raich d i f f e r s from I g n a t i i Vasil'evich on the explanation for Fedia's death, they are of one mind i n other ways. F i r s t , he shares I g n a t i i Vasil'evich's doubt about the 2 0SS vol 7, 500. 2 1SS vol 7, 501. 2 2SS vol 7, 502. 176 p o s s i b i l i t y of peace on earth, because he experienced his own s e l f i s h ambition disguised as charity when he was involved with famine victims. Perceiving t h i s same selfishness i n others, and observing the pain human beings i n f l i c t on one another at Fedia's flogging, for example, he i s convinced that humanity's condition i s hopeless. Second, Raich has grown t i r e d of society and weary with l i f e , which he perceives as a t h e a t r i c a l performance which amuses but f a i l s to penetrate the darkness. Here the dark study, where he s i t s with the narrator and I g n a t i i Vasil'evich, and the frivolous card game i n the next room, echoes th i s contrast. Moreover, when Nina Arkad'evna comments on the tax assessor's charitable work, Raich's face expresses "indescribable disgust," and l a t e r , i n Part IV, he explains to the narrator: 'It's a l l a sham,' muttered Raich. 'Are you referr i n g to the evening gathering?' 'Yes... to l i f e . As though everyone had important a f f a i r s and were pleased with l i f e . ' 'Do you mean to suggest that poor I g n a t i i Vasil'evich i s right?' 'He's the most perceptive of them a l l , at any rate. A great mystery has touched him and shaken him up... He feels the dark side of this wretched game... and i t s foul deception. In the past such individuals were c a l l e d God's fools and considered holy; today they are simply considered eccentrics or mad. Truth... These eccentrics are closer to i t than balanced people.' 2 3 Third, Raich has come to perceive nature i n the way that I g n a t i i Vasil'evich described i t . On his walk with the 2 3 s s vol 7 , 5 0 6 . 177 narrator, Raich hears nature's "conversation," and echoes Ig n a t i i Vasil'evich's e a r l i e r assertion that "there are places, sounds and forms i n which the tragic essence of so-called matter i s revealed with astounding c l a r i t y : " 'What amazing music!,' he exclaimed. I looked at him, confounded. 'Don't you hear the sounds?,' he asked. "Do you r e a l l y not understand these voices that take nature by surprise, or t h e i r intimate conversa-tion?... But you don't understand me. You think I'm mad.' I mumbled what came to mind at the moment. Then, half a verst from the road, a monastery suddenly appeared i n a clearing of the fog. 'Look,' said Raich. 'Consider how i n s i g n i f i c a n t people are when compared with that which they have the audacity to c a l l inanimate matter. See the walls, towers, centuries-old oaks, the dark cracks i n the loop-holes, the flame of the icon-lamps above the gates... That's a l l there i s to i t , unless you look more closely. What si g n i f i c a n t forms! What reverie, what import, what mystery i n those l i n e s , those somber oaks with arms extended, those moss-covered walls and towers, that icon lamp's gentle l i g h t ! And what harmony between i t a l l and the fog, the moonlit night, the straight highway and those thickets i n the distance! 2 4 Raich confesses, however, that he, unlike I g n a t i i Vasil'evich, does not fear death, but i s even intrigued and compelled by "the other side," and longs to "get behind the scenes f i n a l l y into that r e a l and t e r r i b l e r e a l i t y , whose substance we symbolize only p a r t i a l l y i n our r e l i g i o n and a r t . " 2 5 Neither i s that next world necessarily t e r r i b l e ; i t can 2 4 S S v o l 7 , 5 0 7 - 8 . 2 5 S S V O l 7 , 5 0 9 . "npOHHKHyTb 3a KyjlMCbl, B T y HacTOflmyio H CTpawHyio jUGMCTBMTeJ lbHOCTb, COJUepxaHHe KOTOpOH M b l TOJlbKO OTMaCTM CHMB0JlH3MpyeM B HaWeM MCKyccTBe, B Harnett pejinrHM." 178 be no worse than the torments and meaningless suffering of thi s l i f e which make f a i t h i n God impossible. Two things might have given Raich hope. From time to time he had f e l t that a new day would dawn, but now he i s convinced that i t would only be for an instant, "because humanity's innate savagery w i l l quickly hide the sun." 2 6 His most personal reason for despair, however, i s the death of the woman he loved. So i t i s that this mysterious, lonely man, loses a l l hope and commits suicide. What the two men's stories suggest i s that the world i s fundamentally disordered: humanity i s ut t e r l y f a l l e n , nature i s indifferent, and suffering i s meaningless. 2 7 These "truths," we have seen, are evident i n various ways: society r e f l e c t s humanity's selfishness, so that progress and any hope of the "Kingdom of Heaven on earth" i s always thwarted by human "savagery," and re c o n c i l i a t i o n i s made impossible by the unbridgeable gap between s o c i a l classes; nature's indifference i s experienced personally and observed i n the disinterested judges and excited mob at Fedia's flogging; f i n a l l y the meaninglessness of suffering i s underscored by the notion that even death w i l l bring no r e c o n c i l i a t i o n . ^ bSS VOl 7, 510. "nOTOMy MTO BpOXiieHHafl aMKOCTb He 3aM£aJIMT 3aCJI0HHTb 3T0 cojiHue." 2 7Here one might suggest Schopenhauer as a source for these notions, given that E r t e l was once again dealing with the philosophical pessimism which he had encountered both i n his formative years and his reading of Tolstoy's Confession. We have learned how the tragedy of suicide i s i n t e n s i f i e d by a structural feature which brings about Raich's i s o l a t i o n . From another angle, however, his prominence i s emphasized, which has a different e f f e c t . As a resident of the town, the narrator, as we learned at the end of Part IV, i s forced to answer questions about the incident, so his story i s at least an e f f o r t to examine the events that led to Raich's suicide. Thus at the outset he introduces the "general" motivating environment: shallow society and a "disturbed" individual's concerns. This setting serves to draw Raich, an individual with some of the same preoccupations as I g n a t i i Vasil'evich, into the story as an interested l i s t e n e r . During I g n a t i i Vasil'evich's story he i s drawn gradually out of the background as the story completely absorbs his attention. Then Raich t e l l s his own story, which brings him to the centre of the reader's attention. F i n a l l y , when he and the narrator are alone, Raich comes to the very foreground as his philosophical comments give way to more personal ones, which offe r the narrator Raich's deepest motives for taking his own l i f e . What the narrator does i n bringing about Raich's prominence i s to expose the layers of motivation towards despair, an understanding of which i s at least the beginning of a response to the despair as encountered i n t h i s story. A further suggestion of a response i s seen i n another structural feature which draws attention to the narrator's dilemma. In the story we meet two "clairvoyants:" Nina Arkad'evna's relationship with the f i r s t , her husband, stands i n 180 contrast to the one that develops between Raich and the narrator. Nina Arkad'evna has taken charge of her husband's l i f e so that he continues to be a nuisance and burden for her. The narrator, on the other hand, i s torn throughout the story between getting away from such people (" I must get home! . . . And may God be with these strange people who can never be helped" 2 8) and being a friend, as seen at the very end when i t becomes obvious to him that Raich has found i n him a true friend. A sensitive response to such individuals i s thus embodied i n the narrator, even though Raich's suicide i s not made less t r a g i c ; i n fact the tragedy i s i n t e n s i f i e d by the narrator's expression of compassion (accentuated by the morning sunlight), which would otherwise promise hope. The narrator's "objective" stance throughout the story allows hope to be given some voice. His o b j e c t i v i t y i s suggested i n i t i a l l y by the fact that he has to convey the story to the public, and i s seen, for example, i n his sympathy towards Ign a t i i Vasil'evich, while noticing the gri e f expressed i n Nina Arkad'evna's eyes. His authority, however, i s somewhat undercut and r e l a t i v i z e d by his other voice, which suggests not sympathy or compassion, but disapproval and sarcasm: Then when Ign a t i i Vasil'evich said that Raich would shoot himself, and the l a t t e r simply grinned, I was struck. I forced a laugh and exclaimed loudly: 'Well, s i r s , i t seems we've talked ourselves s i l l y ! ' Both looked at me with uncomprehending eyes. I think they were even surprised that there was a 2 8 SS V O l 7, 511 . "flOMOM, aOMOfl!.,. M Bor C HHMH, C 3TMMH CTpaHHblMH JHOZtbMH, KOTOpbIM H6Jlb3fl nOMOHb." 181 t h i r d person i n t h e i r midst. 2 9 It remains true, nevertheless, that despite his frustration the narrator does not interrupt or use his authority as narrator i n any other way to pass judgment on anyone. In becoming r e l a t i v i z e d , his voice becomes "dialogic," so that a message of hope can be sought through the interaction of the various voices. Ertel's own "objective" stance would allow those various "voices" to have the i r own i n t e g r i t y and for Truth to be tentative. Like the narrator who questions the pessimism of the two clairvoyants, E r t e l questions despair over "our permanent home." In one l e t t e r to his daughter he put i t this way: It i s t e r r i b l y d i f f i c u l t to reduce the great variety of human souls to the unity of any concrete rubric. So also the rubric "to have no abiding c i t y " . . . For some souls i t i s actually essential, for the purposes of "seeking the c i t y which i s to come," but for others, once our " c i t y " i s not an "abiding" one, they are not able even to think about things to come. In general the norm, i t seems to me, should be the "abiding c i t y , " for without i t there would arise a disorder that troubles every soul, and the earth would be overgrown with thorns and t h i s t l e s . 3 0 This p r a c t i c a l hope i n "this world" can be seen i n the narrator's question "Why go on l i v i n g , i f one does not believe?" 3 1 and comment "that w i l l lead to a wall . . . then 2 9SS vol 7, 495. 3°pis'ma 393. B i b l i c a l references are to Hebrews 13:14 ("abiding c i t y " ) and Genesis 3:18 ("thorns and t h i s t l e s " ) . 3 1SS vol 7, 502. "3aMeM xe XHTb, ecjiH He BepnTb?" 182 despair," 3 2 both of which he utters i n the context of Raich's resignation to the idea that " a l l i s vanity" i n this world and that progress and "peace on earth" are impossible. Another "truth" i s expressed i n Raich's voice i n his conclusion about the "murder" of Fedia, which we have seen above. Raich believed that we (humanity) k i l l e d i n Fedia "the image of God," and that "no one i s to blame" because everything i s determined, and freedom of choice i s i l l u s o r y . Raich's words are a clear echo of Er t e l ' s b e l i e f that, i n the realm of art at least, "no one i s to blame." 3 3 In "Dukhovidtsy," then, the truth of the matter can be known only by giving both despair and hope a voice and context, as E r t e l does. While the w i l l to b e l i e v e 3 4 does not refute Raich's determinism, i t contends with i t , so that I g n a t i i Vasil'evich's fatalism (as also Raich's sophisticated version) exists i n tension with, and i s defined by, hope. At the same time the undercutting of the narrator's authority serves to distribute authority, as i t were, so that any voice i s potentially, i n Bakhtin's language, "internally persuasive," 3 5 and both his and Raich's voices are given authenticity. If i n "Dukhovidtsy" E r t e l addressed the reasons for hope and despair with regards to progress and the "Kingdom of Heaven" 3 2SS vol 7, 506. "O H npHBeaeT K CTeHe . . . H K omaaHHio." 3 3Pis'ma 246. 3 4"The W i l l to Believe" i s the t i t l e of William James' (1842-1910) famous essay. 3 5M. Bakhtin, "Discourse i n the Novel," The Dialogic Imagination, ed. M. Holquist (Austin: U of Texas P, 1981) 342. 183 i n general, i n his l a s t work he turned to Russia's tr a g i c i n a b i l i t y to recognize her bond with the West. 184 Chapter Six Matter arid S p i r i t , or Russia and the West, i n Kar'era Strukova Nobody yet knows what matter i s , where i t came from, whither i t i s bound, or what i s i t s ultimate r e l a t i o n to s p i r i t . —Rufus Jones 1 Set i n the mid-1880's, Ert e l ' s l a s t published work, Kar'era Strukova ("Strukov's Career," Severnyi vestnik, 1895), i s the story of Natalia and Alexei Strukov's frustrated e f f o r t s to bring about s o c i a l change i n the i r provincial Russian town. The povest' i s reminiscent of Dve pary (1886), where Sergei Petrovich and Maria Pavlovna f a i l i n the i r e f f o r t s to become one with the people. Alexei and Natasha meet i n London, where he has been writing a study of the application of Marxist theory to ground rent, while she i s t r a v e l l i n g with her father. United by t h e i r desire to return to Russia and serve the people, the two marry and s e t t l e down i n a Volga town. Soon, however, Alexei begins to grow d i s s a t i s f i e d with the ordinariness of his work as Justice of the Peace, while Natasha i s faced with opposition i n her e f f o r t s as trustee to reform the l o c a l school. At this point her father, Petr Perelygin, befriends a certain Doctor Buchnev, an anarchist and s p i r i t u a l i s t , whose friendship with Natasha threatens her relationship with Alexei. The marriage iRufus Jones, S p i r i t i n Man (Stanford: Stanford UP, 1941) 21. 185 disintegrates, i n the end, not so much because of Buchnev, but because Strukov has grown bored with l i f e and love, while Natasha i s compelled to go abroad for her father's health and her two sons' education. Left alone, Strukov commits suicide. From the above sketch, which echoes the disenchantment of the couple i n Dve pary, i t would appear that Kar'era Strukova was written, as Bessonov writes, "on the i n e r t i a of [Ertel's] previous conceptions." 2 Dzhonson describes the povest', however, as "a shining example of the f u l l maturity of E r t e l ' s talent" and a "masterpiece of our l i t e r a t u r e for i t s excellent a r t i s t i c merit, for the brightness and strength of the psychological analysis, for i t s v i v i d character p o r t r a i t s , and for the depth of the s o c i a l , family and individual issues raised i n i t . " 3 Since "Clairvoyants" E r t e l ' s concerns had grown more subjective and psychologically probing as he grew d i s s a t i s f i e d with "the struggle" as he had come to understand i t . If E r t e l ' s notion that an abstract work of thought lay behind every s i g n i f i c a n t and authentic work of art applies to Kar'era Strukova, 4 then on one l e v e l the thought behind i t 2 B . L . Bessonov, "A.I. E r t e l * - Avtor Gardeninykh," Gardeniny by A. I. E r t e l (Moscow: Khudozhestvennaia l i t e r a t u r a , 1960) 28. 3Dzhonson, n.p. "flpKwtt <a6pa3MHK nojiHOfi 3pejmcm BpTejieBCKoro TajiaHTa . . . ; o,anH M3 ujeaeBpoB Haujefl jiHTepaTypw H no 3aMeMaTejibH0H xyjuoxecTBeHHOCTH, H no flpKOCTH H cMJie ncMxojiorHMecKoro aHajiH3a, w no KOJIOPHTHOCTM pa3Hbix (JwrypupyiomMX B Hefl T W I O B , H no rjiySHHe nocTaBJieHHbix B Hefi BonpocoB o6a<ecTBeHH0tf, ceMetfHofi a jim-motf XH3HM." 4 P i s 'ma 305. "H S T Toro HacToamero M 3Hai-)MTejibHoro npoH3BeiieHHfl MCKyccTBa, KOTopoMy He npeaiuecTBOBajia 6bi OTBJieMeHHaa pa6oTa MbicjiH." 186 revolves around a rather i r o n i c tension between Russia and the West. While Alexei and Natasha return to Russia with nostalgia and a sense of duty towards t h e i r country, what they actually bring home i s a v i s i o n of Russia's transformation along Western l i n e s . Perelygin, i n the meantime, believes that the Truth l i e s with the East . and i t s Church Fathers, 5 although he admires Western rationalism at the same time. On another l e v e l the West vs. Russia c o n f l i c t i s symbolic of a more universal one between " s p i r i t " (with preference given to the i n t e l l e c t and the individual) and "matter" (with preference given to the land and the c o l l e c t i v e ) . With a look at each of the four main characters i n turn we s h a l l examine each one's relationship to this universal c o n f l i c t , and i n conclusion we s h a l l define the t r a g i c nature of Kar'era Strukova. S p i r i t Denied While Andrei Mansurov (in Smena) was driven to despair over an understanding of history that was s t r i c t l y c y c l i c a l , and Raich (in "Clairvoyants") was so overwhelmed by e v i l and i n j u s t i c e that he ceased to believe i n goodness (whether human or divine), Strukov's despair comes about d i f f e r e n t l y . As a Marxist he believes i n progress and the classless society of the bright future, but he loses hope not because he ceases to 5SS v o l . 4, 135-6. 187 believe i n that new world, but because his modest effor t s become "prosaic" and wearisome, rendering him ind i f f e r e n t to l i f e . Perelygin points out the fundamental inconsistency i n Strukov's philosophy at the outset. As Strukov f a l l s i n love with Natasha he i s prone to believe i n love as something sacred, so that he i s angered at Perelygin's suggestion that free love i s natural and reasonable, and would actually obliterate prostitution. To his comment "What you are saying i s blasphemous! What you are saying i s godless!" Perelygin responds: But that's a l l metaphysics. . . . Where's the sacredness? What i s godlessness? You've correctly noted that i t ' s a l l i n matter, i n what i s observable, and facts. . . . You've noted your-s e l f : Who moves history? Heat, clothes, food. And I simply add: the sexual apparatus. You say that today's s o c i a l structures w i l l give way to communal ones, and I agree—that i s with regards to my t o p i c . 6 [emphasis added] Perelygin rejects socialism as nonsense because "the 'herd' can't break with decayed ways of thinking and the 'chosen' have no need of socialism." 7 Strukov, however, continues to believe i n Russia and (although not e x p l i c i t l y ) the " S p i r i t " which w i l l guide her forward, while remaining committed to "the facts." As he and Natasha f a l l i n love she i s prepared to overlook t h i s inconsistency and love "his way," even though she points out that his "reasoning involves a leap to which [he] has no right 6SS v o l . 4, 140-1. 7SS v o l . 4, 142. "«CTaao» c o6BeTwajibiM nopajuKOM MbiwjieHHfl pa3opBaTb He MoxeT, a <H36paHHbie» He HyxaaioTca B cou,HajiH3Me. . . ." 188 i f a l l there i s i s matter." 8 Their love, moreover, i s bound up with the hope that back i n Russia they would, as Natasha hoped, "create miracles together." 9 Reflecting E r t e l ' s notion that "in nature there have never been . . . cataclysms," 1 0 Strukov believed that Russia's transformation was to come about gradually, with no need for revolution, and hoped that the Russia of Gogol and Shchedrin would [ l i k e the England of Dickens and Thackeray] also become an anachronism not through "revolution", but the the gradual development of consciousness, lawfulness, prosperity, through bloodless s a c r i f i c e s , c u l t u r a l e f f o r t s , and the accomplishment of modest tasks. 1 1 But once immersed i n those effo r t s he cannot find the patience to see beyond human greed and a deteriorating economy. With thi s outlook, and the loss of his wife's friendship to the doctor, he gradually grows cold towards her, takes to drinking heavily, and despairs. F i n a l l y , having spoken to his wife of his plans to return to his native v i l l a g e , he jumps from a ship into the Volga and drowns. Underscoring his attachment to the land and Russia, was his concern that i n going abroad his children would become "groundless" ("bespochvennye").12 8SS v o l . 4, 150. "B TBOHX paccyxaeHHflx ecTb CKa^oK, Ha KOTOPMH T N He HMeeiub npaBo, ecjin TOJibKo oitHa MaTepHA," 9SS v o l . 4, 149. "A, HaTBopHM Mbi c TO6OH Myaec!" 1 0 P i s 'ma 64. "Tenepb yxe aoKa3aHO, MTO B npnpoae He 6bi.no . . . KaTaKJiM3M0B." n S S v o l . 4, 158. 1 2SS v o l . 4, 294. 189 Mind over Matter If Strukov's world view i s m a t e r i a l i s t i c , Doctor Buchnev's philosophy of "mind over matter" represents i t s opposite. Invited to be Perelygin's personal doctor, Buchnev i s a s o l i d , serious man of about forty who strikes Natasha as simplehearted and Strukov as nearly insane. 1 3 Educated i n a reformatory as a boy, he subsequently enrolled i n the medical academy. In addition, he had studied religious history, worked on a colony i n the United States with William Frey, and delved into s p i r i t u a l i s m and theosophy under Madame Blavatsky and Colonel Olcott while i n London. His tra i n i n g as a surgeon combined with theosophy ("the antithesis of materialism of any kind" 1 4) had made of him a practitioner of alternative medicine, and a firm believer i n minimal medical intervention and the mind's authority over the body. Like Raich, he believes that what i s t r u l y r e a l l i e s beyond matter and the grave, from where he claims to hear voices. 1 5 1 3SS v o l . 4, 238. 1 4Lewis Spence, Encyclopedia of Occultism (New York: University Books, 1960) 410. 1 5SS v o l . 4, 249. "«He xcmy 6ojieTb» STO caMoe B-epHoe JieKapcTBO." ("The best medicine i s 'I do not wish to be sick'.") Buchnev i s i n a l l l i k e l i h o o d modelled after a s p e c i f i c follower of Frey, Stephen Briggs, who, as we learn from Yarmolinsky, was a "hygienic physician and surgeon," advocate of vegetarianism, hydropathy, women's rights, and a s p i r i t u a l i s t . As a s p i r i t u a l i s t and follower of Frey he would have shared Frey's d u a l i s t i c b e l i e f i n "the immortality of the soul, l i v i n g i n Humanity, and the immortality of the body which mingles with the earth." Yarmolinsky, 131. 190 The fact that Buchnev i s not an e n t i r e l y misguided soul i s made evident i n i t i a l l y through his friendship with Natasha. The independent and straightforward manner expressed i n his b e l i e f that one should " l i v e as [one] please[s], speak and act openly . . . not l i e and not f e a r " 1 6 comes as a r e l i e f to her, for she has just given up her school trusteeship and i s inclined to accept Buchnev's notion that service through i n s t i t u t i o n s i s a waste of time. Later his goodness i s demonstrated through two events which reveal his love of "dogs and c h i l d r e n . " 1 7 The f i r s t involves the old m i l l e r Agafon, a hermit-like and cranky Old Believer who hates the doctor, curses him as an instrument of the Devil, and even urges his dog to attack him. Buchnev does not respond with animosity, however, and on one occasion even manages to tame Turka (who would only come near her master), winning the admiration of the children i n the community. Later i n the story, Buchnev impresses even Strukov, who otherwise despises him, with his "touching si m p l i c i t y of i n t e r a c t i o n " 1 8 with a group of boys around a campfire. At the same time Buchnev i s profoundly unhappy. He drinks heavily to avoid hearing the voices "from the other s i d e , " 1 9 1 6SS V O l . 4, 245-6. "XHTb K3K MH6 XOMeTCfl, POBOpHTb H fleJiaTb npflMO . . . H6 jiraTb H He GoflTbCfl." 1 7SS v o l . 4, 248. (As Natasha explains) "fleTefi w coSaK OH OMeHb JIIO6HT." l^SS V O l . 4, 272. "Ka« Bbi fiOCTHrjlH T3K0H yMHJlHTeJibHOH npotTOTbi OTHOlUeHMfl?" 1 9SS v o l . 4, 251. "oTTyaa" and at heart he wishes that "so c a l l e d immortality were a mystery [and not] cold, determined, autumn-day r e a l i t y . " 2 0 His wish r e f l e c t s an idea E r t e l expressed to Pogozheva even as he was writing Kar'era Strukova: "If the sciences occultes were real and could solve the ri d d l e of existence, as physics can the rid d l e of lightning and thunder, then everything would be immensely boring." 2 1 The scene around the campfire, which i s at f i r s t d e l i g h t f u l for Strukov, i s unfortunately spoiled by the doctor. While Strukov r e c a l l s Turgenev's "Bezhin Meadow" and imagines Buchnev to be an integral part of the scenario, the doctor i s quick to distance himself from such a "romantic" connection when Strukov comments: "You simply don't love Russia." "But there's nothing i n her to love." "But I find you here i n . . . a purely Russian and Turgenevan context..." "It could just as e a s i l y have been America, England, a Bret Hartian or Dickensian s e t t i n g . " 2 2 Buchnev i n s i s t s that Russia w i l l inevitably "drink herself to death" and, l i k e a l l matter, decompose.23 In a scene reminiscent of Raich and I g n a t i i Vasilievich's cynical 2 0SS v o l . 4, 277. "A ecjiM 6bi TO, MTO Ha3biBaiOT SeccMepTMeM, 6biJia TaHHa. . . . Ho 3 T O — x o j i o a H a f l , onpeaej ieHHaa, I O K oceHHHfi aeHb, jneHCTBMTejibHocTb." 21pjs 'ma 337. "ECJIM 6bi ^Sciences occultes» SWJIM aefiCTBHTejibHW M Morj in 6bi pa3peiuMTb 3arajiKy 6b iTMf l , IOK <J)H3HKa 3araaKy MOJIHMM M rpoMa, TO 3T0 6biJia 6bi orpoMHaa cKyKa." 22ss v o l . 4, 273. 2 3SS v o l . 4, 272. "conbeTCfl" 192 conversation (in "Clairvoyants"), Strukov i s won over by Buchnev's pessimism as the two discuss how " a l l i s r e l a t i v e " and speak of suicide as a means to escape t h e i r loneliness. In t h i s way the two, we conclude, arrive at a point of despair from opposite directions: the doctor from a crude immaterialism with i t s a b o l i t i o n of mystery, Strukov from a materialism which denies i t . S p i r i t and Matter i n Tension Natasha emerges as the central character i n the story, for in her the tension between matter and s p i r i t i s most pronounced. Honoring her husband's vocation she i s drawn close to the land and the Russian people (indeed closer than he ever could be with his theoretical knowledge of Russian provincial l i f e ) ; at the same time she i s independent, open to Buchnev's "mind over matter" philosophy, and ready, when i t becomes clear to her that her marriage has ended, to uproot her children and take them to be educated abroad. Natasha's c e n t r a l i t y i s established additionally by the fact that she i s the one character whose outlook i s not already defined; rather, her philosophy i s dynamic, and constructed throughout the story i n relationship with the "men i n her l i f e . " In Natasha one might say that E r t e l has "found" his heroine: In Volkhonskaia baryshnia (The Lady of Volkhonsk, 1883) he presents a populist woman "in the making;" i n Dve pary (1886) she comes with a plan to serve the people; i n Gardeniny (1889) she i s "educated" by a revolutionary; i n Smena (1890-1) she i s informed 193 more by the "mood" of populism (as a form of Christian service), but i s s t i l l a secondary figure; now i n Kar'era Strukova she i s close to the people by nature, s p i r i t u a l l y motivated, p r a c t i c a l and independent. Since Natasha i s very much her "father's daughter," as she herself observes, 2 4 here we w i l l consider Perelygin and his influence i n her outlook, then examine the dynamic tension between s p i r i t and matter reflected through her relationships with Strukov and Buchnev. As one of Ertel's most individualized characters, Perelygin possesses a rather complex world view. On the one hand he i s a staunch iconoclast, rejecting a l l conventions and ceremonies (with one exception, as we s h a l l note). When Natasha and Strukov announce to him th e i r engagement he encourages them to l i v e together before a ceremony i s required or necessary. "That way the divorce," he jokes, " w i l l be cheaper i f you take i t into your heads to separate." 2 5 Further on we learn that he supports communes where both marriage and personal property are rejected. In re l a t i o n to Strukov, at least, his iconoclasm proves j u s t i f i e d , for he has the insight to re a l i z e that Strukov's love i s simply passion which w i l l die once s a t i s f i e d . 2 6 2 4SS v o l . 4, 147. "aoMb CBoero OTua" 2 5SS v o l . 4, 153. "3TaK H pa3Bos ofiofUeTca aeweeo, exe&w B3iiyMaeTe paCXOflHTbCfl." 2 6SS v o l . 4, 162. 194 At the same time Perelygin admires Awakum for his "unquenchable zeal," claims to follow the "Spasovo" sect of the "priestless" Old Believers, i n s i s t s on the necessity of crossing oneself with two fingers (in Old Believer fashion), and maintains that the truth i s on the side of the East, Origen and other Eastern Fathers. 2 7 Moreover, he makes sharp "chosen"/"herd" distinctions which cause him to dismiss Western religious thought outright. Thus, for instance, he c a l l s Renan, whose L i f e of Jesus he considers nonsense, a "phrase-monger" and " l i t t l e Jew."28 The apparent contradictions i n Perelygin*s outlook can be explained by Zenkovskii's observation that the Spasovo sect, "with i t s religious indifferentism more closely resembles eighteenth-century agnosticism or skepticism than authentic Old Believer ways."29 In fact what Perelygin t r u l y holds dear are "good habits" and a healthy c u r i o s i t y . 3 0 As Natasha notes, with her father's approval, he i s "a freethinker to the core" 2 7SS v o l . 4, 135. "peBHOCTb HeyracHMafl" As they came to be cal l e d , the "Old Believers" opposed Nikon's reforms of Church r i t u a l and l i t u r g i c a l texts i n the 1860's. Opposed to Westernizing forces i n the Russian Church, the Old Believers did much to uphold Russia's messianic role i n the world and the idea of Moscow as the "Third Rome." Archpriest Awakum's autobiography i s a c l a s s i c of Old Believer l i t e r a t u r e . 2 8SS v o l . 4, 133-6. "<J)pa3ep" "XHMOK" 2 9S.A. Zenkovsky, Russkoe staroobriadchestvo (Munich: Wilhelm Fink Verlag, 1970) 475. ". . . CBoefl pejiHrno3HOH HHaHtfetJjepeHTHOCTbio CKopee HanoMHHaioT 3anaaHoro Tuna arHOCTMKOB HJIH CKemHKOB BoceMbHaauaToro Btxa, MeM noziJiHHHoe C T a p o o B p f l i m e c T B O . " 3 0SS VOl. 4, 161-2. "3^paBbie npMBbNKH" who eagerly debates theological questions "only to give his mind some diversion." 3 1 Out of c u r i o s i t y he c o l l e c t s coins, crosses, icons and manuscripts; for the amusement of "the herd" 3 2 he i s at work on a translation of Courdaveaux's Comment se sont formes les dogmes;33 and for his own amusement he keeps the company of a "young blonde" escort u n t i l the early hours of the morning. 3 4 Perelygin's philosophy i s , i n the f i n a l analysis, no less inconsistent than Strukov's. While he faults Strukov for bringing God into the realm of observable fact, he himself, reducing everything to matter, looks forward to the common l i f e based on free love and the "sexual apparatus:" a v i s i o n just as Utopian as his son-in-law's. One t r a i t which Natasha inherits from her father i s an Awakum-like rigorous s t r a i n which causes her to dominate Strukov. One notes, for instance, that she seems to have a clearer v i s i o n of his vocation than he does, despite the fact that at twenty-two she i s several years younger: Have you not thought of anything to do with your l i f e ? . . . And haven't you come up with any of your own thoughts? . . . It's time to get to work. . . . Your work i s i n Russia, not i n scholarship. . . . If you can't be o r i g i n a l as a scholar, then be o r i g i n a l i n l i f e . " 3 5 3 1SS v o l . 4, 137. "6e3rpaHH4HbiH BOJibHoavMeuj . . , TOJibKO aJifl . . . n r p b i yi*ia." 3 2SS v o l . 4, 136. "aJifl CTaaa" 3 3P.C.V. Courdaveaux (1821-1910 or 1912), French Professor of Philosophy and author of various works i n philosophy and c l a s s i c s . 3 4SS v o l . 4, 184. " x e j i T O B O J i o c a f l aeBHU,a" 3 5SS v o l . 4, 126. 196 So instead of making his small contribution to Marxist scholarship, Strukov decides that "what he had r e a l l y longed for was to go to the Russian countryside and [engage in] modest cu l t u r a l e f f o r t s . " 3 6 Raised among Old Believers, Natasha has another model of piety before her: Awakum's wife, i n whose s p i r i t she endeavours to submit to her husband. In fact the rigorous and kenotic tension i n Natasha's l i f e offers additional support for her ce n t r a l i t y : "I would have gone into the f i r e , suffered hunger or cold with you," 3 7 she t e l l s Strukov as they part. Indeed she makes numerous ef f o r t s to draw close to him, but by th i s time he has grown jealous of her friendship with Buchnev. Another way i n which Natasha emulates her father allows her to cope with that which her husband comes to loathe. As they grow d i s s a t i s f i e d with t h e i r e f f o r t s within i n s t i t u t i o n s and th e i r relationship loses i t s romance, only Natasha i s able to devote her energies to "good habits." 3 8 She finds, to Strukov's dismay, that her work i s now with the proper upbringing of t h e i r children, the ordering of t h e i r home, and a simple l i f e s t y l e . 36ss v o l . 4, 149: "caMbie 3aTaeHHbie ero MeMTbi B c e r a a B j i e o n e ro B pyccKyio pjiyujb, B aepeBHio, Ha CKpoMHyio KyjibTypHyio pa6oTy." 3 7SS v o l . 4, 314. "fl 6w c To6ofi B oroHb noujjia, Ha r o j i o a , Ha x o j i o a 6bi nowjia. . . ." Natasha's words c l e a r l y echo those of Awakum "about sweetness of death by f i r e " ("ABBakyM nncaa o c j i a a o c ™ . . . o rHeHHOft CMepTH," SS v o l . 4, 254). For a discussion of "rigorous" and "kenotic" models of piety i n Russian l i t e r a t u r e see M. Ziolkowski, Hagiography i n Russian Literature (Princeton: Princeton UP, 1988). 3 8SS vo l . 4, 230. "[Haao] y^HTbCfl xepTBOBaTb . . . [nlc-JioxeHHeM, cocTOAHHeM, npHBbNKaMH . . . 3KM3Hbl0 HaKOHGU,." 197 As we learned e a r l i e r , Natasha's desire to return to Russia was motivated by a love for the simple people and the country, while his was out of a love for "humanity" i n general, as an abstraction. Content to l i v e by "Christ's teachings and the lessons of human nature," 3 9 she i s naturally more at home than her husband with the d a i l y chores on the farm, on closer terms with the people, and begins to loathe the world of ideas and Moscow's theatre, music and high society—Strukov's only r e l i e f at t h i s point. Buchnev's a r r i v a l i n Natasha's l i f e i s thus timely, for she finds herself attracted to the doctor as a friend, admiring his down-to-earth manner and love of si m p l i c i t y . While she finds him to be an unhappy man and faults him for his f a i l u r e to recognize a d i s t i n c t i o n between good and e v i l , she ultimately has l i t t l e choice but to side with him against her husband. With his b e l i e f i n the soul's immortality, Buchnev makes up for Strukov i n another important way. Impressed by the fact that as a doctor he actually believes i n the next world, Natasha has her own mystical experience endorsed. As she f e l l i n love with Strukov, for instance, she longed to "forget her 'sober' views, surrender to extraordinary forces, and return to her distant childhood when she l i v e d as i n a dream and r e a l i t y was inseparably interwoven with miracles." 4 0 With these emotions 3 9SS v o l . 4, 230. " 3 T 0 M y yHHT Xpucroc w Hawa 4ejioBe4ecKafl npupoaa." 4 0SS VOl. 4, 164. "3a6blTb CBOM «Tpe3Bbie» B3rJIflJIbl, OTflaTbCfl BO BJiaCTb «Hpe3BbmaMHbix BJiHflHHfl, nepePi™ B TO aajieKoe zieTCTBO, Koraa xmiocb TOHHO BO CHe M jieMCTBHTejibHOCTb Hepa3pbiBH0 cruieiajiacb c MyaecaMH." 198 she pays one l a s t v i s i t to Westminster Abbey, where "everything . . . was transfigured from material substance into mystical." 4 1 There, even as an Old Believer's daughter, she senses a mystical union with the West as she weeps, makes the sign of the cross with two fingers, and whispers "half-forgotten prayers" as the organ thundered; the choir's numerous voices blended into a complex harmony, [and] the marble kings, knights, and poets—England's great people— were brought somehow a l i v e by the coloured rays. . . , 4 2 Ultimately Buchnev gives Natasha every reason to focus on that occupation which Strukov perceives to be of less importance than the "greater" task of working for progress: the r a i s i n g of t h e i r sons Petr and Alexei. Not only did the doctor endear himself to Natasha with his love of children, but he persuaded her that the work which was needed was more basic. When she asked what one was to do i f not serve through i n s t i t u t i o n s , Buchnev responded: I answer, do what you l i k e . . . . But to influence others one needs f i r s t of a l l to stop at nothing, and secondly, to determine what demands f i r s t p r i o r i t y . . . . You b u i l t on sand. One shouldn't build, but instead clear a foundation down to the s u b s o i l . 4 3 Thus, when she senses that her l i f e i s f a l l i n g apart over her marriage, Natasha finds that her sons are her salvation. Recalling the lines of the Old Believer poem: "Lovely mother 4 1SS v o l . 4 , 1 6 5 . "Bee . . . npeo6pa3Hjiocb M3 BemecTBeHHoro B MMCTHMecKoe." 4 2 s s v o l . 4 , 1 6 5 . 4 3SS v o l . 4 , 2 4 5 . 199 desert. . . . Save me from t h i s troubled world," she returns home to her children and exclaims: "Here's my mother desert. . . And I need nothing e l s e . " 4 4 In the end Natasha leaves Russia i n d e f i n i t e l y , angry at Strukov's years of compromise, " i n t e l l i g e n t l i t t l e books . . . [and] conversations," 4 5 and indifference towards t h e i r children. She does apologize, however, for taking him away from his scholarly vocation, and invites him to v i s i t the children. Natasha's c e n t r a l i t y and dynamic tension are established, i n sum, by the way i n which she i s drawn to both Strukov and Buchnev for different reasons, while she stands between the past and the future: her father and her sons. In contrast to her father, Buchnev and Strukov, whose philosophies are presented as " s t a t i c , " throughout her l i f e (as we observe i t ) , Natasha's struggle has been dynamic: i n many ways her views are shaped by her father, but she chooses to marry and follow Strukov against Perelygin's better judgment; she finds her vocation i n the simple l i f e with Buchnev's help; and f i n a l l y she i s l e f t to decide on her own what i s best for her sons. To conclude, the tragedy i n Kar'era Strukova reaches beyond a broken marriage and Strukov's suicide. While no one i s judged, a l l are l e f t alone and to wander without a home. Buchnev drinks alone i n his despair, and exclaims: "The fact of 4 4 S S v o l . 4, 2 5 5 - 6 : "(IpeKpatHafl MaTW nycrwHA. . . . O T C M ^rHoro M«pa np«MW M A . . . . B O T MOfl MaTH-nycTbiHfl... M HMnero MHe Gojibwe He HB&O\" 4 5 S S v o l . 4, 314: "yMHbie K H M X K H . . . [ H ] p a 3 r o B o p b i " 200 the matter i s , we're helpless and alone," 4 6 and wanders because i t i s i n his nature. Perelygin leaves Russia for his health, although, as Strukov points out, "for him there exists no fatherland," 4 7 while Natasha i s l e f t "as on an island with her own s o u l " 4 8 when she realizes that her marriage i s ruined. In 1888 E r t e l had written: "Perhaps Proudhon was right when he said that 'between man and the country i n which he was born and l i v e s there exists a unity as between soul and body'." 4 9 If thi s i s the case, then the tragedy of Kar'era Strukova l i e s i n the fact that "soul and body" are severed i n the end, for Russia, too, i s l e f t alone as a l l but Strukov set s a i l . 4 6SS v o l . 4, 276. "["IpaBjia B T O M , MTO MW 6e33amHTHbi H OJIMHOKH." 4 7SS v o l . 4, 295. "^Jifl Hero oTeMecTBa HG cymecTByGT." 4 8SS v o l . 4, 262. "KaK Ha ocTpoBe c CBoefl ayiuoH" 4 9 P i s 'ma 64. "Yx He npaB JIHTIpyjuoH, cKa3aB, MTO <M&xay MejioBeKOM H cTpaHofi, B KOTOpOH OH XHBeT H B KOTOpOH OH pOJHJICfl, CymeCTByeT C B f l 3 b , n o a o 6 H a f l CBA3H Mexay ayujofi H TCJIOM. . . ." 201 Conclusion James B i l l i n g t o n characterizes the period of Er t e l ' s l i t e r a r y output (1880-95) as one of profound c u l t u r a l depression, during which dreams of Utopia and f a i t h i n Russia's redemptive role had dwindled, and i n t e l l e c t u a l s were l e f t to l i v e by a theory of "small deeds" or seek the "beauty i n the very sadness of l i f e . " 1 From Caryl Emerson's perspective, "the years 1880 to the F i r s t World War witnessed a religious r e v i v a l among the Russian creative i n t e l l i g e n t s i a . " 2 These apparently contradictory views are equally j u s t i f i e d i n l i g h t of the fact that E r t e l ' s works epitomize those profoundly ambiguous years i n Russian l e t t e r s when, at the end of a "Great Age," members of the creative i n t e l l i g e n t s i a became preoccupied with the "'eternal' problems of l i f e and death." 3 In E r t e l ' s case the "eternal" question revolved around Russia's destiny. As a civic-minded i n t e l l i g e n t the question "What i s to be done?" was c r u c i a l for him, as when he f i r s t turned to Tolstoy for advice i n 1885 and asked what he was to do given his s p e c i f i c "time and place." While early i n his career E r t e l sought a clear answer to thi s s o c i o - p o l i t i c a l question i n populism, positivism, and Tolstoyism, he came to see that any doctrine which hoped to survive needed to be f l e x i b l e , indeed ! j . H. B i l l i n g t o n , The Icon And the Axe: An Interpretive History of Russian Culture (New York: Vintage, 1970) 436-7. 2Emerson, 111. 3Mirsky, 348. 202 d i a l o g i c a l . As he sought to define for himself a p r a c t i c a l philosophy, E r t e l turned increasingly to a second, related question, now ethico-metaphysical, regarding his country: Why do anything?, or, put more po s i t i v e l y , "Can progress be reasonably expected i n any form at a l l ? " As he addressed this question, E r t e l came to focus more on individual destiny, which when divorced from Russia's national destiny (as i n the case of Kar'era Strukova) represented something t r a g i c . Bunin's description of E r t e l as "a thoroughbred Englishman or Swede and a Russian cattle-dealer r o l l e d into one" 4 i s suggestive of the p r i n c i p a l way i n which Er t e l ' s l i f e d i f f e r e d from the l i v e s of contemporary Russian writers. Unlike Garshin, E r t e l belonged to the working class; unlike Chekhov, Korolenko and Uspenskii, he received no formal education. His love of learning, however, coupled with his training (from age twelve onwards) i n estate management, placed him i n a unique position with regards to both the people and the i n t e l l i g e n t s i a . Rather l i k e his hero Nikolai (in Gardeniny), E r t e l was too we l l -acquainted with Russian r u r a l l i f e to embrace populism, or the Tolstoyan view of the peasant as a "noble savage." On the other hand, while his career made of him an e f f i c i e n t manager, his administrative e f f o r t s were never divorced from a profound s o c i a l concern, but always directed towards improving the quality of l i f e of the people. This combination of i n t e l l e c t u a l and p r a c t i c a l concerns i s the key to Ert e l ' s passion for 4Bunin, Memories and Portraits 119. 203 "compromise," symbolized by the tension between Russia and the West. \ With a view to (re)assessing E r t e l ' s place i n Russian l i t e r a t u r e , here we summarize b r i e f l y the way i n which his works represent a s p i r i t u a l (and i n t e l l e c t u a l ) autobiography, discuss the relevance of his thought for today, and conclude with some observations about his narrative style and i t s relationship to the discourse on the destiny of Russia. S p i r i t u a l Autobiography If early i n l i f e E r t e l found the populist movement misguided, the fundamental v i s i o n of a transformed Russia and a populist "mood" concerned him throughout his l i f e . In this respect he was closer to Dostoyevsky, who l i v e d with the tension that Russia's transformation " l i e s i n the s o i l and the common people" 5 while recognizing "the value and freedom of the individual which was characteristic of the West."6 Nevertheless, u n t i l his conversion i n prison i n 1884 E r t e l considered himself a philosophical pessimist l i k e his own hero Baturin i n Zapiski stepniaka. In 1885 E r t e l recognized i n Tolstoy's teachings an answer to his fundamental question regarding progress i n the face of ceaseless, c y c l i c a l building and destroying. If the "Kingdom of 5 F . M. Dostoyevsky, Occasional Writings. ed. and trans. D. Magarshack (New York: Random House, 1963) 212. ^ F . Copleston, Philosophy i n Russia: From Herzen to Lenin and Berdyaev (Notre Dame: U of Notre Dame P, 1986) 153. 204 Heaven" was to be found within the individual, and not i n some distant future, then what was required of him was to " l i v e i n peace and harmony with a l l people," 7 and, as a writer, to instruct. At that point E r t e l chose to write about greed. Raised among the common people, E r t e l could not sustain for long the hope i n the transformation of society through basic peasant communities, for he did not share Tolstoy's view of the peasant as a "noble savage." Against Tolstoy's anarchism E r t e l began to regard progress as occurring normatively through i n s t i t u t i o n s . With a hopeful view of history and a philosophy of "small deeds" E r t e l wrote Gardeniny, a novel i n which progress i s providential (that i s , overseen by a benevolent God), and both personal (through Nikolai) and c o l l e c t i v e (through c i v i c efforts) despite d i v e r s i t y and change. In Smena, too, the e f f o r t s of the governing bodies were to be seen as productive, as were the combined ef f o r t s of those capable of taking part i n the struggle. From th i s point on E r t e l makes a s i g n i f i c a n t s h i f t i n outlook. Already i n his novels r e a l i t y was presenting i t s e l f to him as multi-faceted and unconducive to any "organizing p r i n c i p l e . " For him progress becomes a much more open question, p a r t i c u l a r l y as his own, rather frustrated, "small deeds" (in famine r e l i e f and educational reform) gave way to more "fundamental" ones: the inculcation of good habits at the most basic levels of society and conscientious oversight of the 7Pis'ma 34. 205 estates entrusted to him. If the notion of progress i s present i n his l a s t works, "Dukhovidtsy". and Kar'era Strukova, i t must contend with other options, for i t depends on dialogue, which i s open. Highly c r i t i c a l of the r a d i c a l i n t e l l i g e n t s i a , he in s i s t e d that before any attempts could be made by anyone to bring about the "Kingdom of Heaven" the " s o i l " needed to be created, which meant to "establish i n word and deed a p o l i t i c a l l y conscious and firmly constructed way of l i f e . " 8 E r t e l ' s attitude towards progress at this time could be summed up i n the words of J. Maritain: "the aim the Christian sets himself i n his temporal a c t i v i t y i s not to make thi s world i n i t s e l f the Kingdom of God, but [one]. . . which as much as i t may prepares for the coming of the Kingdom of God."9 With a loss of confidence i n inevitable progress, p a r t i c u l a r l y i n Russia, E r t e l comes to focus more on psychological, subjective, and even other-worldly concerns i n his f i c t i o n . A via media Given his h i s t o r i c a l circumstances, E r t e l ' s philosophy was more timely and independently constructed than highly o r i g i n a l , for i t developed i n an awareness of the sharp polarization i n his society. In his day a way of s t a b i l i t y with an Orthodox Russia was enforced by Pobedonostsev, who as head of the 8pis'ma 366. "CJIOBOM H aejioM eoaeopflTb co3HaTejibHbiH H TBepao nocTpoeHHbifl 6blT." 9 J . Maritain, True Humanism (London: The Centenary Press, 1939) 103-04. Parsons has noted a certain kinship between the two thinkers (Parsons, 190). 206 Church's Holy Synod from 1880 to 1905 took drastic measures to preserve Russia from a l l forms of sectarianism. 1 0 Pobedonostsev's chief opposition was found i n the influence and person of Leo Tolstoy, whose anarchism and b e l i e f i n the basic unity of a l l religions presented an equally dogmatic, i f diametrically opposed, v i s i o n for Russia. "As Leskov saw i t , " writes H. McLean, emphasizing e s s e n t i a l l y the same s p l i t , " s p i r i t u a l l i f e i n the 1890's was suspended between two poles: a pole of good, located at Yasnaya Polyana, and a pole of e v i l , entrenched at Kronstadt." n In Russia today a similar polarization could not be more apparent. Archpriest Lev Lebedev, author and theologian, writes that Russians who wish to revive something i n themselves turn to God and to the basic foundations of our Orthodox f a i t h . . . I believe i n Russia's re-v i v a l . For John of Kronstadt, Seraphim of Sarov, and other elders prophesied that not long before the end of human history (Christ's second coming) Russia would be restored as a t r u l y Orthodox nation. Only God knows i n what year that w i l l take place. 1 2 A similar view of Russian Orthodoxy as the only f a i t h for Russians i s presented by the rector of the Moscow theological academy, A. Kuraev. "The Orthodox Church," he writes, " i s the l^In particular Pobedonostsev enacted the law of May 3, 1883, which prohibited the spreading of religious propaganda, and i n the following year prohibited a gathering of Protestant sects i n St. Petersburg. H-H. McLean, Nikolai Leskov: The Man and his Art (Cambridge, Mass: Harvard UP, 1977) 596. l^Leonid Lerner, interview with Lev Lebedev, Ogonek Feb. 1996: 49. 207 mother of the Slavs; the best i n our culture and hearts comes from her." In the face of what he c a l l s the "Protestant American s p i r i t u a l occupation of Russia," he reminds the f a i t h f u l that joining with sectarians i n prayer i s s u f f i c i e n t grounds for excommunication. 1 3 Tolstoy's v i s i o n for a unifying r e l i g i o n can be found i n the growth of syncretic r e l i g i o n s , whereby a l l orthodoxies are obsolete i n the interest of world peace. Er t e l ' s value today as a thinker i s to be found i n that for which S. Frank admired him i n 1910: [His] insistence on a re l i g i o u s and metaphysical view of l i f e , struggle against dogmatism i n theory and practice . . . [and his] understanding of the one-sidedness and error of any abstract moralism, "negation" or "protest"—whether i t be Tolstoyan ascetic individualism or the i n t e l l i g e n t s i a ' s f a i t h i n mechanistic p o l i t i c a l struggle. 1 4 E r t e l f e l t compelled to reconcile two extreme positions. With Tolstoy he recognized the e v i l i n the church's close al l i a n c e with the state: Orthodoxy's greatest e v i l and vileness i s to be found i n that which even ultra-Orthodox individuals l i k e Khomyakov, Vladimir Solovyov and others fought against: her unnatural t i e s with the police, gendarme, prison warden, company commander—in a word: the s t a t e . 1 5 On the other hand he believed that the Church's e v i l was certainly not to be found i n her sacraments, mysteries, grandeur, dogma and r i t e s . Were the Church t r u l y "free," did not hobnob with l 3A. Kuraev, Vse l i ravno kak v e r i t ' , (Klin: Bratstvo S v i a t i t e l i a Tikhona, 1994) 10-18. 1 4S.L. Frank, "Pis'ma E r t e l i a , " i n F i l o s o f i i a i zhizn' (St. Petersburg, 1910) 337. 1 5Pis'ma 392. 208 "secular authorities," and did not turn into a sort of c i v i l - s e r v i c e department, I don't see how she would be any worse than Catholicism or the endless number of Protestant sects. On the contrary, [she would] have greater depth and beauty, and be more humane.16 As a l i b e r a l protestant, E r t e l had l i t t l e patience for i n s t i t u t i o n a l r e l i g i o n , whether Eastern or Western, but at the same time he recognized that the forms ( i . e . r i t e s , sacraments and formularies) of r e l i g i o n were necessary as long as individuals did not possess the freedom to give r e l i g i o n the dynamic quality i t needs. 1 7 "I s h a l l always maintain," he wrote i n the same l e t t e r quoted above, "that i t i s better to have an anachronism than the absence of r e l i g i o n , or cheap, poorly thought out 'freethinking,' i n which ignorance and a deep indifference to higher interests and needs of the soul tend to hide." 1 8 As Parsons notes, Ertel's philosophy anticipates "the lessons of the Vekhi writers to a remarkable degree," for i n his c r i t i c i s m of the ra d i c a l i n t e l l i g e n t s i a he in s i s t e d that any s o c i o - p o l i t i c a l "struggle" had to have a s p i r i t u a l b a s i s . 1 9 One could add that Ertel's philosophy equally anticipates the 1 6Pis'ma 392. 1 7 I f E r t e l ' s personal l i b r a r y i s any indication, his theology was to a great extent determined by readings of "progressives" such as Strauss, Renan, Harnack, and Feuerbach. (A. I. E r t e l ' , "Katalog nashei b i b l i o t e k i , " N i k i t i n Museum Archives, Voronezh). 1 8 P i s 'ma 391. "Bcerj ia CKaxy: Jiymue yx aH3xpoHM3M, Hexejin OTcyTCTBMe pejwrMM, Hexejm aeiueBoe, HenpoayMaHHoe «CBo6o,aoMbicjine», no& KOTOPWM Mame Bcero CKpwBaioTCfl HeBexecTBO M rjiySoKoe paBHoayuiHe K BWCUJHM H H T e p e c a M H 3anpocaM ziyxa." 1 9Parsons, 178. 209 religious inclusivism of Fr. Alexander Menn,20 a pastor and theologian whose murder i n 1990 speaks of religious intolerance and sharp polarization. While i t must remain a matter for speculation that Ertel's philosophical development was leading him, as one c l e r i c suggested, 2 1 to Orthodoxy, there i s reason to suggest that his influence was such that he served as a bridge, as i t were, for the i n t e l l i g e n t s i a ' s return to i n s t i t u t i o n a l C h r i s t i a n i t y . One imagines that S. Frank's conversion to Orthodoxy i n 1909 had at least something to do with his readings of and enthusiasm for Ert e l ' s philosophy, which he and other Vekhi writers encountered i n the same year. 2 2 2 0 m the popular sense the term "religious inclusivism" i s used to characterize an "open" attitude towards other religions and world views, e.g., the attitude of Ivan Fedotych i n Gardeniny. As theologians tend to use the term, and i f used to characterize Menn's theology of re l i g i o n s , "religious inclusivism" i s to be distinguished from "religious exclusivism" (that God i s revealed i n one r e l i g i o n only, or that salvation requires the e x p l i c i t affirmation of a particular creed) and the kind of "religious pluralism" expounded (especially) by John Hick and Paul Knitter (that a l l religions are equally s a l v i f i c , or v a l i d "paths to God"). Menn affirmed, as an Orthodox Christian, that God i s revealed supremely i n Jesus Christ and known i n the fellowship of the Church, but was not prepared to make a p r i o r i judgments about other religions or world views. While Ertel's Christology was more p l u r a l i s t ( i . e . l i k e Tolstoy's) than i n c l u s i v i s t , he did not dismiss r i t e s and doctrine as unnecessary. Whether the Incarnation and Resurrection were "myths" or h i s t o r i c a l r e a l i t i e s , E r t e l believed i n the truth of these doctrines at some le v e l (Pis'ma 396). 21M. Chel'tsov, "Religiozno-filosofskie perezhivaniia A. I. E r t e l i a , " Vera i razum 14 (1910): 211. 2 2Suggestive of Ertel's l i t e r a r y influence are: (a) the relationship between his "Dukhovidtsy" and Chekhov's "The Head Gardener's Tale" (examined i n Appendix A), and (b) the relationship between Ivan Bunin's Zhizn' Arsen'eva (The L i f e of Arsenyev, 1930-1939) and at least two of Ertel's works. F i r s t , 210 Narrative style Taken as a whole, Er t e l ' s works represent a particular, personal quest which was to be understood as universal. This i s evident, for instance, i n the way i n which Nikolai Rakhmanny's development was meant to represent the "providential progress of man." Ertel's objective was i n keeping with the "general predisposition i n nineteenth century Russia to see the individual as the embodiment of the S p i r i t of the time." 2 3 This given, Er t e l ' s works are not polyphonic i n the s t r i c t sense. Closure (and not " u n f i n a l i z a b i l i t y " ) i s p l a i n l y prescribed, whether by the v i t a , the Bildungsroman f or foreshadowing (in the death of Raich). At the same time Er t e l ' s polyphonic v i s i o n competes with this closure; as we saw, the problem of freedom i n the face of determinism preoccupied E r t e l from the s t a r t . In fact the paradox of "Providence" and "polyphony" l i e s at the heart of Er t e l * s a r t i s t i c v i s i o n , and dictates his narrative s t y l e . Here we s h a l l examine some important ways i n which the compositional tension between "closed" and "open" narratives i s displayed i n Ertel's works, Bunin's autobiographical Bildungsroman appears to have had i t s genesis i n the early 1920's, around the time of his f i r s t reading of Gardeniny f i n which the gradual maturation of a young man i s also traced from youth to adulthood: from the religious experiences as a youth and f i r s t impetuous sexual encounter with a married woman to the beginnings of a philosophy of despair over "destruction and decay" and the death of an era. Second, an incident i n "Clairvoyants" i s echoed i n Arsenyev's f i r s t awareness of death and e v i l forces when a peasant boy i s k i l l e d when his horse f a l l s into a ravine. Orwin, 8. making reference to the relationship between that tension and the theme of Russia. If we r e s t r i c t ourselves to E r t e l ' s mature works (Gardeniny onwards), the work least worthy of the epithet "polyphonic" i s Smena. In that novel the hero i s defined from the s t a r t as a "philosophical pessimist," while his double Alesha plays the r e l a t i v e l y predictable role of the saint as required by the v i t a . His one l i b e r a t i n g quality i s that he speaks from his own experience of putting everything, we r e c a l l , "to the test, . . . so that everything i s [his] own [svoe]." When we turn to Gardeniny we find ourselves on somewhat firmer ground. To begin, as the plot becomes subordinate to the ethnographic narratives (to the extent that some c r i t i c s ventured to say that the novel had no p l o t ) , s o c i a l d i v e r s i t y comes to the foreground. What i s important here i s that the d i v e r s i t y i s represented ideologically, so that multiple world views are represented schematically, as characters (and groups) are juxtaposed according to t h e i r ideologies. While the atheists are divided between revolutionaries and s o c i a l conservatives (Efrem vs. Agei), believers are divided between sectarian and orthodox, and further divided along exclusive vs. inclusive ( A r e f i i Suknoval vs. Ivan Fedotych) and progressive vs. conservative lines (Fr. G r i g o r i i vs. Fr. Aleksandr), respectively. Social fragmentation i s introduced i n i t i a l l y through the generation gap (corresponding to old and new orders) between the fathers and t h e i r sons, then complicated by the d i v i s i v e roles of revolutionary zeal (which divides the sons) 212 and materialism (which divides the two merchants), as well as the d i v e r s i f y i n g role of economic s t r a t i f i c a t i o n . If "the most favorable s o i l for [the polyphonic novel] was . . . precisely i n Russia, where capitalism set i n almost catastrophically," 2 4 as Bakhtin writes, then i t i s s i g n i f i c a n t that Fadeev should note that i n Gardeniny "a cross-section of nearly a l l of post-reform Russia i s presented." 2 5 The d i v e r s i t y described above represents, however, only f e r t i l e s o i l for a polyphonic v i s i o n . Nikolai's moral development results, naturally, i n readings which favour one side of an issue or another. Thus Ivan Fedotych's religious inclusivism and "kenotic" s p i r i t u a l i t y i s to be valued above A r e f i i Suknoval"s exclusive and rather rigorous brand, while a gradualist, "prosaic" philosophy of small deeds i s to be preferred to revolution. At the same time not a l l the oppositions are "cancelled out d i a l e c t i c a l l y . " 2 6 E r t e l employs different devices which underscore the need for each character to use his own authentic voice (for example, when A r e f i i Suknoval's constant appeal to Scripture i s challenged by Ivan Fedotych), which when accomplished produces more of a p l u r a l i t y of interdependent voices than synthesis. Nikolai's future i s e n t i r e l y open at the end of the novel, as his confidence i n 2 4Bakhtin, Problems 20. 2 5A. Fadeev, Za t r i d t s a t ' l e t (Moscow: ANSSSR, 1957) 857. 26eakhtin, Problems 26. progress faces the p o s s i b i l i t y that the future might just be swallowed up by eternity, "where there i s no future." The confrontation between philosophical doubles most cl e a r l y produces a p l u r a l i t y of options i n Ert e l ' s l a s t two works, where instead of "confluence" (as i n Smena) or "Providence" one finds "unclustering" and e x i s t e n t i a l concerns. In "Dukhovidtsy," for instance, hope and contingency must stand on an equal footing with despair and determinism. The f a t a l i s t i c v i s i o n of the two "clairvoyants" becomes a true option as the narrator's voice becomes d i a l o g i c a l and unobtrusive. At one point, we remember, i t seems to him that the two men have forgotten that he i s i n t h e i r midst, while throughout the evening he grows sympathetic to t h e i r s t o r i e s . He even invites Raich home, against his e a r l i e r i n c l i n a t i o n s , which introduces an element of surprise. In t h i s way fate and freedom are defined i n re l a t i o n to one another: p o s s i b i l i t y confronts determinism head on, because while Raich was slated to commit suicide according to Ig n a t i i Vasil'evich's prediction, the narrator's freedom, by d e f i n i t i o n , creates alternatives. The relationship between Raich and the narrator i s similar to the one between Natasha and Alexei i n Kar'era Strukova, where fate and free w i l l also do battle. Natasha, a dynamic individual who senses the "complex harmony" of the "choir's numerous voices" i n Westminster Abbey, i s free, for she embodies the tension between matter and s p i r i t , while her husband i s bound by a world view which denies him the l a t t e r . Thus the d e s i r a b i l i t y of unity between Russia and the West i s brought out 214 as the future looks dim for Russia, i f f u l l of p o s s i b i l i t y for the free individual. Part of Ert e l ' s greatness l i e s i n the fact that as an a r t i s t he finds inspiration i n diverse places and tr a d i t i o n s . We have noted the special influences of Turgenev, Tolstoy, and Dostoyevsky i n shaping his a r t i s t i c v i s i o n , which attests to both his eclecticism and thorough knowledge of the traditions which shape his outlook. Given that he claims those traditions as his own, and the fact that his a r t i s t i c v i s i o n i s polyphonic, his works respond to and participate i n a dialogue, so that the individual voices they represent are inseparable from t h e i r t r a d i t i o n . On the one hand E r t e l can be seen as the ethnographer of the Russian Religious Renaissance of his time. It i s to Ertel's works that one must turn for the f u l l d i v e r s i t y of religious l i f e i n Russia i n the 1880's and 90's, for no group or ideology i s passed by. On the other hand th i s d i v e r s i t y does not exist for i t s own sake; rather i t i s the framework i n which the author displays, i n a timely way, multiple options with regards to Russia and her future. Whether reading E r t e l ' s works i n the 1890's or the 1990's, the questions "What i s to be done?" and "What can be reasonably expected?" evoke the same r e p l i e s . 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Munich: Wilhelm Fink Verlag, 1970. Ziolkowski, M. Hagiography i n Russian Literature. Princeton: Princeton UP, 1988. 223 Appendix A Between Hope and Despair: Er t e l ' s "Dukhovidtsy" and Chekhov's "The Head Gardener's Tale" "The Head Gardener's Tale" ("Rasskaz starshego sadovnika," Russkie vedomosti, Dec. 1894, hereafter "HGT") takes place i n a garden on a warm A p r i l morning. Three customers, namely the narrator, a neighbouring landowner and a young merchant, converse as t h e i r purchases are brought out to t h e i r carts. Mikhail Karlovich, the gardener, who l i s t e n s i n on th e i r conversation, i s an elderly, kind and respected man considered to be German, although his father was a Swede and mother a Russian. He has joined with the Russian church and loves to read books and discuss Ibsen, for example. He has his weaknesses: "he referred to himself as the head gardener, even though he had no subordinates; he had a rather d i g n i f i e d and haughty expression, and did not tolerate contradictions, and l i k e d for people to l i s t e n to him seriously and a t t e n t i v e l y . " 1 Mikhail Karlovich enters the conversation when the topic of justice i s raised. The landowner points out a young man who was caught stealing but released on psychological grounds, and says that fairness i s no longer to be found. The young merchant agrees, adding that the crime rate has risen. Mikhail Karlovich, on the other hand, i s always happy to hear of acquittals, and advocates b e l i e f i n humanity, which i s "possible ^Chekhov, PSSP v o l . 8:1, 342. "OH Ha3biBaji cefja C T a p u j H M caJIOBHHKOM, x o T f l MJiaauJHX He 6biJio; BbipaxeHne jmu,a y Hero 6bi.no HeoSbiKHOBeHHO BaxHoe H HaztMeHoe; OH He aonycKaji npoTHBopeMMfi H JIIO6HJI, mo6bi ero cnyiuajin cepbe3H0 H CO B H H M a H H e M . " 224 only for those few who understand and f e e l C h r i s t . " 2 The narrator agrees that the Mikhail Karlovich has expressed a good thought, whereupon the head gardener t e l l s the "legend" t o l d to him by his grandmother of a sa i n t l y doctor who loved and had fa i t h i n everyone, but one day was murdered. When the murderer was found he was set free because the judges, and even the townspeople, could not believe anyone was capable of doing such an e v i l deed. For the town's f a i t h i n man and recognition that man i s God's "image and likeness," i t was said, God forgave a l l t h e i r sins. The narrator concludes the story by noting that his neighbouring landowner wanted to raise an objection, but that Mikhail Karlovich made a gesture that said he did not l i k e objections. Ronald Hingley writes that "HGT" i s "a sample of direct didacticism unique i n [Chekhov's] mature writings . . . [and] an astonishingly i n e f f e c t i v e story from any point of view." 3 I wish to suggest that the story i s effe c t i v e precisely because i t avoids drawing an extreme conclusion, and that i t accomplishes this i n much the same way as Ert e l ' s "Dukhovidtsy." To raise the p o s s i b i l i t y that E r t e l ' s story might have served as a genesis for "HGT," we note that Chekhov wrote his story i n November 1894,4 just weeks after he praised 2Chekhov, PSSP v o l . 8:1, 343. "aocTyriHa TOJII>KO TeM HeMHorHM, KTO noHHMaeT H ^yBCTByeT XpwcTa." ^Hingley, The Oxford Chekhov v o l . 7, 10. 4 L . M. Dolotova, V tvorcheskoi l a b o r a t o r i i Chekhova (Moscow: Nauka, 1974) 37. 225 "Dukhovidtsy" to E r t e l : "It's an excellent work. Let me mention, by the way, that you're a magnificent peizazhist." 5 In December 1893 he had spoken of i t as "one of the best recent items i n Moscow."6 To begin our comparison of the two works, we note that the settings i n each story are r e f l e c t i v e of the dominant voice, whether of hope or despair. The setting of "Dukhovidtsy" gives cause for uneasiness i n every way. F i r s t we note that the story i s set at an evening gathering where most of the conversation takes place i n a dimly l i t study. We then learn that I g n a t i i Vasil'evich's favourite time of year i s late autumn/early winter: Returning from Moscow I found the wind, rai n , foul weather or a f i e r c e b l i z z a r d s t r e s s f u l , but he, on the other hand, was i n raptures. Returning from walks he would lock himself i n his study with the roof r a t t l i n g , chimney howling, and the shutters banging. 7 Later when Raich and the narrator leave we are t o l d "It was a foggy, damp, moonlit night. The wide street, whose lime trees on either side had already l o s t t h e i r leaves, was quite deserted." 8 The two spend th i s autumn night on a long walk u n t i l dawn, but the morning promises l i t t l e hope: 5Chekhov, PSSP 5:2, 328. 6Chekhov, PSSP 5:2, 118. 7SS v o l . 7, 485. 8SS v o l . 7, 505. "CTOflJia JiyHHafl TyMaHHaa cwpaa H0<Hb. ULlHpoKafl yjinua, oBcaxeHHaa no 6OK3M JinnaMH, c KOTopbix y x e Ha nojioe-MHy o6jieTejiH JiHCTbfl, 6biJia K3K-T0 ocorjeHHO nycTMHHa." The sun had indeed risen, but how sad i t was! For a moment the l i g h t of daybreak shone i n the east, but i n the humid a i r a painful smile f l i c k e r e d . . . . Then the clouds came i n thicker and lower, and only because previously indistinguishable d e t a i l s appeared before us and a l l became grey, bare and d u l l , could one r e a l i z e that the moon had ceased to give i t s l i g h t and now the sun was up. From a l l sides one sensed cold and shelterlessness. 9 In contrast, "HGT" i s set on a warm A p r i l morning i n a garden where the birds sing and the flowers bask i n the sun: a f i t t i n g setting for a story whose dominant voice i s that of hope i n the goodness of humanity. A similar polarized contrast can be seen i n the way the legal question i s dealt with i n each story. The question i s f i r s t raised i n "Dukhovidtsy" by I g n a t i i Vasil'evich when Fedia i s caught stealing apples. I g n a t i i Vasil'evich's father, we learn, sees to i t that Fedia i s punished without tedious legal proceedings: "Why," he used to ask, "do we need appeals and procedures? It's a l l so tedious and expensive. Just use the rod; i t ' s quicker, cheaper, and i t hurts." So that's what was done to my friend. A peremptory note was sent to the d i s t r i c t authorities, and on the f i r s t Sunday Fedia was summoned to court and flogged. I begged for him to be l e t o f f , of course, but my father held firmly to his p r i n c i p l e s . His response to me was that for t h i r t y years he had flogged his serfs, and since he did i t f a i r l y he never heard anything but a "thank you" from those who had been punished; i n fact, l e n i e n c y — o r worse yet: legal proceedings—only corrupted. 1 0 9SS v o l . 7, 510-11. 1°SS v o l . 7, 496-7. Given that the story i s set i n the early 1870*s, the unjust legal practices alluded to here are undoubtedly those of the communal tribunal, "whose operations Raich l a t e r t e l l s his own story of Fedia's flogging, observing how Fedia was "murdered" on that occasion, as the punishment only brought out his savage nature by k i l l i n g i n him the "image of God." In "HGT" we encounter another theft and another murder, but towards both crimes the legal system has proved lenient. In the case of the theft the neighbour landowner i s displeased with the way i n which the t h i e f has been released on psychological grounds (which, as he notes, has become more common) and complains that as a result people are losing a sense of ju s t i c e . The leniency, as we know, i s upheld by Mikhail Karlovich, who i s always glad to hear of acquittals, even when the judges are mistaken. The story his Swedish grandmother t o l d him then takes us to another courtroom where a man i s on t r i a l for the murder of the s a i n t l y doctor. In th i s case the judges and crowd, unlike the ind i f f e r e n t "patriarchs" and excited mob i n "Dukhovidtsy," unanimously agree that since no one could ever commit such e v i l the murderer should be set free. For believing i n man as the "image of God" the sins of the whole v i l l a g e were forgiven. If i n terms of setting and the justice question "Dukhovidtsy" and "HGT" are at opposite poles, as though one were the negative of the other, there are three important ways in which the stories p a r a l l e l one another. The f i r s t i s the way i n which Raich and Mikhail Karlovich, the two "spokesmen" for . had been c a l l e d into question, e.g., by a Moscow Provincial Zemstvo Commission i n 1871." Turner, 153-4. 228 despair and hope, respectively, are introduced and bear a certain resemblance. In both cases the narrator i s interested i n conveying the individual's strengths and weaknesses: We learn that Raich i s a quiet, attractive man of strong w i l l who has devoted time (as did both Chekhov and Ertel) to r e l i e f work among famine victims. Mikhail Karlovich i s "bright, kind, and respected by a l l " ; Raich i s abrupt and has poor s o c i a l manners, while Mikhail Karlovich does not l i k e to be contradicted and i s rather arrogant. The second s i m i l a r i t y i s found i n the way i n which the stories are structured. In each case the story of a narrator with c r i t i c a l distance provides the frame i n which one side of the polemic regarding human nature i s presented while the other side i s scarcely more than implied: In "Dukhovidtsy" Raich and Ign a t i i Vasil'evich represent the voice of despair, while the narrator himself represents the hopeful response. In "HGT" Mikhail Karlovich takes one position while the neighbour landowner disagrees, even though Mikhail Karlovich i s not prepared to hear a rebuttal. In many respects Polakiewicz' s assessment below, which challenges Hingley's c r i t i c i s m of "HGT," could apply equally to "Dukhovidtsy": In i t s broadest sense, "The Head Gardener's Story" contains the theme of the eternal polemic between those who take an optimistic view of the basic decency of man and those who hold, pessimistically, that man i s by nature a degenerate and vicious creature. More s p e c i f i c a l l y , the story presents two c o n f l i c t i n g opinions on the effic a c y of the legal system: the landowner and the merchant advocate s t r i c t adherence to the l e t t e r of the law in order to combat man's natural corruption, while the gardener, with his unlimited f a i t h i n humanity, 229 e f f e c t i v e l y advocates doing away with law courts altogether. Both points of view, being extreme, are u n r e a l i s t i c and untenable. The reader realizes that ultimately a middle ground must be sought between blind f a i t h i n man's capacity to be virtuous and unconditional condemnation of man's f o l l y . The narrator of the frame of the story (Chekhov's persona) represents this open-minded middle ground. . . . n Thirdly, we note that the " f a i r y t a l e - l i k e style" which Chekhov admired i n E r t e l ' s story i s reflected i n the head gardener's story, which was passed down to him by his grandmother rather l i k e a legend with no p a r t i c u l a r time-setting. With regard to the question of human nature, the stories' endings bring the reader to the same place: somewhere between hope and despair. This i s done, on the one hand, through t h e i r respective narrators, whose objective stance undercuts the dominant voice. In "Dukhovidtsy" the narrator's objections to Raich are e x p l i c i t : lack of f a i t h produces despair. In "HGT" the narrator remains objective by being sensitive to both sides of the issue: to Mikhail Karlovich's idea that "only those few who understand and f e e l Christ" can t r u l y believe i n man he responds "Good thought," which given the context implies a "but," since what Mikhail Karlovich has said i s intended to evoke only approval; further, when the story i n favour of hope i n man has been t o l d the narrator observes that an objection was not permitted. H L . A. Polakiewicz, "Crime and Punishment i n Cexov," i n Studies i n Honor of Xenia Gasiorowska, ed. L. Leighton (Columbus: Slavica, 1982) 60. 230 On the other hand, the reader i s l e f t somewhere between hope and despair i n both stories, because of the inconsistencies i n Raich and Mikhail Karlovich's characters which, authentic as t h e i r positions may be, impair t h e i r convictions. Hence one questions Raich's fatalism not only because i t leaves no room for hope, but because his withdrawn character and impolite manner suggest renunciation of l i f e . Likewise Mikhail Karlovich's l i m i t l e s s f a i t h i n humanity 1 2 i s put i n question by his stubbornness, for such an attitude remains oblivious to i n j u s t i c e and to the fact that there i s a "tragic sense of l i f e " 1 3 where man i s subject to his fellow man's savagery. In sum, we note f i r s t of a l l that i n each work a criminal process leads a s t o r y t e l l e r (of the t a l e within the story written by Chekhov or Ertel) to draw an extreme conclusion about human nature. Raich comes to believe that humanity, given the chance, w i l l commit an offence against God's "image and likeness," while the head gardener believes that humanity i s inclined to do the reverse. Second, i n each case the t a l e i s f a i r y - t a l e l i k e , while the setting of the story as a whole i s appropriate to the s t o r y t e l l e r ' s conclusions. F i n a l l y , both stories feature a narrator who q u a l i f i e s the s t o r y t e l l e r ' s conclusion, so that hope and despair with regards to human 12nere Polakiewicz draws attention to Mikhail Karlovich's fondness for Ibsen, whose impractical idealism Chekhov d i s l i k e d (Polakiewicz, 62). 1 3I have borrowed th i s expression from Miguel de Unamuno's essay e n t i t l e d Del sentimiento tragico de l a vida. 231 nature are never resolved. The combination of these factors, supported by the fact that Chekhov c l e a r l y admired Er t e l ' s story, suggests that "Dukhovidtsy" provided Chekhov with an effec t i v e means to address the question of human nature i n his own work. 2 3 2 Appendix B Original of Indented Quotes I: Confrontation 2 1 / . . . Mbl BMGCTG C HaWGH <«ayUJOI0» c y T b p G 3 y j l b T a f 6eCMHCJlGHHblX B H , 5 U H 3 M G H G H H H H n p H c n o c o S j i G H H H , He So j iee , H ec j iM a e f t c T B y e M MecTHO, XOpOUJO, npaB^MBO, >KHBGM «CBf lTO», TO BOBCG HG B CMJiy K 3 K M X - T 0 ^ a p O B a H H b l X H 3 M CBbllUG M JKMBymMX B H a c TpeSoBaHHH < 5 y i U H » , a G^HHCTBGHHO B CHJiy T O r O , MTO Mbl T3K0Bbl C y T b , K 3 K p G 3 y j l b T a T b l 6GCMMCJiGHHbix n p n c n o c o 6 j i 6 H H H . 2 2 / . . . flOMGMy MHG He npMXO^MJIO B rOJIOBy, KaK KOpOTKa XH3Hb M K 3 K MHOrO y X O ^ H T BpeMeHM Ha n y C T f l K M H H a 3 J I 0 ? 51 nOMHK), MTO p f l £ O M c 3THMH MblCJIflMH BO MHe npoH30WGJI T O r ^ a HGOfiblKHOBGHHblH nofl-bGM M y s c T B a JIIOSBH K J i i o a f l M , flBHJiocb CTpacTHOG x e j i a H n e CO BCeMH npMMHpHTbCfl, BCeX npOCTMTb, CO BCeMH XMTb B JIK )6BH H B MMpe. . . Chapter One 2 7 / . . . n o - M o e M y peujMTejibHO H y x H O p a c c T a T b c a c S T H M H T p e M f l K H T 3 M H Hapo ,gHHMecTBa : c gajropi, G6'fi33HHOCTJ?M}i w p3cn.s3Tom.. KaK ^ O K T p H H a , KaK napTMfl, KaK yneHHe—<Hapo,ziHHMGCTBO» pGWHTGJibHo H G B b i a e p x H B a e T KpHTMKH . . . 2 8 / ~ M G M X G OHM CMacTJiHBbi-TO, HHKOJiaPi B a c H J i b e B H M ? - - c n p o u j y , Dbisajio, a. - - A T e M CMacuiHBbi, C K a x e T , s e p a B H H X 6biJ ia, u,ejibHOCTb 6biJ ia, B p a r a O H H A C H O B H ^ G J I H , H^Gajiw C B O H o u v y n b m a j i H p y K a M H . . . M H a n p a c H O a HanoMHHaji GMy M^eajibi, flCHbie KaK K p w c T a j i J i j OH C T M X O W nGMajibio y j i b i 6 a j i c f l . ^ a , O H H a c H b i , — r o B o p H J i O H . ~ H O 3TO acHOCTb TeOpHH, flCHOCTb BblMHCJlGHHH a p H ( f ) M e T p H M e C K H X . OHH flCHbl 4 0 TOH t lOpbl , nOKa )KH3Hb He 3 a T y M 3 H M T M HG 3 a r p f l 3 H M T HX. . , » Chapter Two 5 8 / (HeBKH B O W J W . . . nepGCMGHBaflCb H no^TajiKHBafl a p y r ^ztpyra, H B 3aMeujaTejibCTBe ocTaHOBHJincb y ABepefi . — 3 ^ p a B C T B y H T e , MHJibie M O M T O C T M ! — fipocwjiacb K H H M , K p a c H a a KaK K y M a M , Mapbfl i l aBJ ioBHa H , n o ^ y M a B M P H O B G H H O , MTO G H T c n c p b ^ e j i a T b , o f iHAJ ia nepByio a e B K y , H G p a 3 o 6 p a s juaxG, J l H 3 y T K a S T O HJIH 233 ^apbfl , H noi^GJioBajia G G K y a a - T o B BGPXHIOIO MacTb JiMu.a; c flpyroio ^ G J I O o 6 o u j J i o c b 6jiaronojiyMHGG: OHa nou,GJioBajia GG n p s M O B r y 6 b i . 5 9 / T o , MTO C M X nop cj ibiwajia OHa . . . r j iyfjoKO aft HpaBHJiocb H n o m n B C G P ^ a BOJiHOBajio GG a y w y j HO OHa H H K o r a a H G c j iwxa j i a ^ G P G B G H C K O M riGCHH T3K 6 j lH3KO.. . M , 60)KG MOf i ! , MTO 3T0 6blJia 3 a nGCHfl! I I : C o m p r o m i s e 6 8 / . . . TOJICTOH JIHUJHMPt p a 3 H C HGOtfblKHOBGHHOlO CHJ10IO B^BHHyJI B 0 6 l H G C T B G H H 0 e C03H3HHG nOHflTHG 0 (IpaB^G - - H MTO T3M HG ^GJiaH, K3K HH cTapawcfl 3a)t:aTb GMy poT nofiG^oHocu.GB c K o , . . . n p a s a a ocTaHGTca. 6 9 / H G 6 y ^ y OTpnuaTb Toro, MTO M H O T O G B Mbicjiax Jl . H . T. npGflCTaBJlflGTCfl MHG BGpHbIM H r J i y 6 0 K H M £0 nopa3HT6JlbHOCTH, HO paCXO^yCb C HHM B GPO OTHOUJGHHflX K O G L U G C T B G H H O C T H , K yMpOK^GHHflM, K CpG^CTBaM 6 o p b 6 b l CO 3J10M, H £0 H3BGCTH0H CTGPiGHH — K T3K Ha3blBaGM0H U,HBHJlH3au;HM . . . BCGr^a OH MGHfl npHBJlGKaJl HG K3K <yMHT6Jlb>, a K3K HGOublKHOBGHHO pG^KOG flBJIGHHG B C(J)GpG yMa M TOTO, MTO Ha3blBaiOT T a J I 3 H T 0 M , 7 0 / . . . BGJiMKOG fijiaro, MTO XpncTOC... Ho CKaxy #Gp30CTb: rpfl^yLUGG MHG pHCyGTCfl TOJlbKO TOPtfS B yTGUJHTGJlbHOM CBGTG, KOr^a H G npG^nojiaraio B03Mo:*HbiM aajibHGHWGG noflBJiGHMe T3KHX X G P T B , TaKoro rGpoHHGCKoro ocBGiMGHMfl . . . «riojio»:MTb a y u j y 3a 4 p y r H > — BGJIMKOG 46J10, HO H G GXeflHGBHOG flGJTO, HG T3K0e, KOTOporO, BO MTO 6 b l TO HH CTajio, Haao ao6MBaTbCfl. 7 2 / TGnGpb yXG fl0Ka3aH0, MTO B npHpO^G HG 6blJ10 BHG3anH0CTGM, HG 6blJI0 KaTaKJlM3M0B. HG MOXGT MX 6blTb M B npHpO^G MGJIOBGKa. A pa3 MGJIOBGK CTpGMHTCfl C^GJiaTb MX — OH H3MyM3GTCfl M na^aGT BOJlbHOM MJ1H HGBOJIbHOM SIGpTBOM «mp65K,ZI6BpeMGHH0CTH>. HO BOT nOCJIG 4-X JieT OTCyTCTBMfl fl H a pO^HHG . . . MTO XG 3T0 3a CMJia TaKas, MTO xe 3TO 3 a BJiacTb B n o j i a x B T H X , yxo^fliMMX B CMHIOB a a j i b , B 3T0M BGTpG, ^OHOCflll^ GM 50 MGHfl CJiafiblH 3anaX 3GMJIM H nOJlblHH, B 3T0M 0 £ H 0 0 u p 3 3 H 0 M 3B0HG flMCKOrO KO JlOKOJlbMHKa, B 3TMX nOCGJIKaX, pa3upOCaHHblX T3M H CAM! BOH JIGC JIGIIGMGT M npMBGTCTByGT MGHfl 3B0HKMMM riTHMbMMM rOJIOCaMH... BOH 3H3K0M3A KOJIOKOJlbHfl CTpOMHO Bbl^BMHyjiaCb M3-3a B03BblW6HH0CTH H TOMHO yJlbl63GTCfl MHG HaBCTpGMy. . . Y, K3K XOpOUJO M K3K rpyCTHO MHGI BHyTpM KMHflT CJ1G3W M p33pbl£3JICfl HGBG^OMO MGMy, a BMGCTG C 3THM CBGTJIO MHG M XOpOUJO, M JiaCKOBafl, AercKaa p a ^ o c T b npoHHKaGT MOG cymacTBO... floMa s\, a o M a . 7 5 / B CymHOCTH AWfTO SMHGB3T, BOT B MGM ^GJIO. . . \ TO, MTO HGT BHHOBaTblX, HG MCKJIIOMaGT 6opb6bl, HO B 6opbuG HG HaflO 3a6blBaTb MGJI0BGK3, H a ^ O nOMHHTb, MTO K3TK0B - - HTOT T3KHX-T0 B034GHCTBHH H OfDCTOflTGJlbCTB, a MGpHbllJJGBCKHH — HHblX. . . KOHGMHO, B npaKTHMGCKOH 2KH3HH, B CtflGpG nOJIHTHKM, HanpMMGp, Tpy^HO y ^ G p x a T b C f l Ha 3T0H TOMKG 3pGHHfl . . . 3 a BCGM TGM, B CtpGpG TOrO H C K y C C T B a , KOTOpOG TlOrO Ha3blB3GT g r a n d a r t , HGT MGCT3 3JI0uG H npH3blBaM K HaCHJIHIO, M6O HM 3J10ua, HH H3CMJIHG HGCOBMGCTHbl C f lpaB^OH . . . C h a p t e r T h r e e 7 8 / . . . 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B03bMH GrO C G 6 G , nyxJI f lBOrO MGpTa! riOBGCb Ha HIGH), KOJIH Jllo6. A MHG XOTb ubl BGK HG BH^aTb ~ He 3anJiaMy... M - H X , M npOTHBHa Tbl MHG, flaUJKa, 3a 3TH pGMH! 8 7 / —8 H G nOHHMaiO, TpHropHH, OTMGTO Mbl HG 6GpGM JHO^GH H3 AHHGHCKOrO, a H 3 H H M a G M OT pa3HblX K y n " 4 0 B H TOMy nO£06H06, a ? ft noHHMaio T G U A : TW M3 r y c a p , BaxMHCTp M TOMy no^oEiHOG. Tbi 3HaGuJb, s\ T0>K6 Bbif i^y B r y c a p b i . B J i e n u - r y c a p b i , a ? Ho H3 AHHeHCKoro y Hac MJiioujKa M SoJibWG HMKoro. TopHHMHbiG y maman H6MKM. . . A fl JIIOSJIIO, MTO 6 BCe dblJIH HaUJH KpGnOCTHblG. FlOHHMaGlilb, 3T0 HaCTOflLUHH 6apCKMH £OM, K O r ^ a COfJCTBGHHblG JIIO^H. 2 3 5 8 8 / « T O - T O Bbi Hac, BepHbix c j i y r BaiiJMx, o6pa£OBaj iH, M a T y u i K a SapbiHfl, MTO n o x a j i y e T e B A H H G H C K O G Ha Bee J ieTo! A Mbi, BauiH BepHbie c j i y r n , n p n 3 H a T b C f l , 3 a c K y M a j i H 6e3 A C H W X r o c n o ^ C K H X r j i a30K. 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Ha^O H G C T p O M T b , ~ Ha^O £ 0 M 3 T G p H K 3 p a C M M C T H T b C H a M a J 1 3 M G C T O . C o n c l u s i o n 2 0 6 / — PyCCKHG J I I 0 4 H , K O T O p b I G M T O - T O X O T f l T B C G 6 G B 0 3 p O ^ H T b , B 0 C C T 3 H 0 B M T b , B b l S w p a i O T J i y X O B H O G O S H O B J I G H H G M G p G 3 0 6 p 3 l M 6 H H 6 K B o r y H K K O p G H H b I M y C T O f l M n p 3 B 0 C J I 3 B H 0 H H 3 U J G H B G p b l . . . 51 B C G T 3 K H B G p i O B B 0 3 P 0 X 5 G H M G POCCHH. M6o G C T b n p o p O M G C T B a M 0 3 H H 3 K p O H U J T S ^ T C K O P O , C c p a ^ H M a C a p o B C K o r o H a p y r n x a y x o H o c H b i x c T a p u , G B : H G 3 3 ^ o j i r o 5 0 K 0 H I 4 3 M 6 J I 0 B G M 6 C K 0 H H C T O p H H ( # 0 B T O p o r O n p H W e C T B H f l X p H C T 3 ) P O C C H f l B H O B b B 0 3 p O £ H T C f l K 3 K H C T H H H O n p 3 B O C J 1 3 B H 0 6 P O C y ^ a p C T B O . B K 3 K 0 H rQ& 3 T 0 n p 0 H 3 0 H ^ G T — 3 H 3 G T T O J l b K O B o r . 2 0 7 / . . . TpGSOBaHMG npHHI4HnHaJlbHOrO, p e J l H r H O 3 H O - M G T a ( h H 3 H M G C M K 0 r O O C M b l C J I G H H f l S C H 3 H M , 6opb6a npOTMB ^ 0 r M 3 T H 3 M 3 B T G O p H H H npSKTMKG, . . . n O H H M 3 H M G O J U H O C T O p O H H O C T H H J I 0 5 K H 0 C T H B C f l K O r O O T B J I G M G H H O r O M 0 p 3 J I H 3 M 3 , « 0 T p H U , 3 H M f l » H J 1 H « n p O T G C T a » — 6 y £ b T O T 0 J 1 C T 0 B C K M H 3 C K G T H M G C K H H H H J 5 H B H A y a J l M 3 M H J I H M H T 6 J l J l H T G H T C K S f l B G p a B M G x a H M M G C K y i o n o j i H T H M G C K y i o 6opb6y . CaMblH T J i a B H b l H B p G ^ H THyCHOCTb npaBOCJiaBMf l 3aKJllOMaGTCfl B TOM, npOTHB M G P O SopOJIHCb J i a J K G T 3 K H G 3 K C T p a - n p a B 0 C J i a B H b l G , KaK X O M f l K O B , B J i a ^ H M H p COJIOBbGB H ^ p y r M G , — B G r O n p O T H B O G C T G C T B G H H O M C O I 0 3 G C O C T a H O B b I M n p H C T a B O M , C J K a H ^ a p M O M , C T W p G M l U H K O M , C p O T H b I M K O M a H ^ n p o M , — o t f H M M C J I O B O M , c r o c y , g a p c T B O M . Ho B O B C G H G B a r o T a H H C T B a x , M H C T G p H f l x , 6 j i a r o j i G n M H , A o r M a T a x , T p G d a X . B y ^ b O H O £ 6 H C T B H T G J l b H 0 < £ C B O u O A H Q K > U,epKQBb(Q>, H e flKUiaftCfl C O 243 < C B G T C K O M B J i a c T b i o » , H G npcspsTMCb B CBOGro po,aa ^GnapTaMGHT — fl pGUJHTGJIbHO HG nOHMMaiO, MGM 6blJ10 6 b! OHO XyXG KaTOJIHMGCTBa H ueCHMCJieHHblX npOTGCTaHTCKHX C G K T . H a n p o T H B , r o p a 3 4 0 P J i y u X G , M6JI0BGMHGG H KpaCMBGG ... A p p e n d i x A 2 2 5 / — . . . Bo3BpaTHBUJHCb H3 MocKBbi, fl p y K a M H BenJiecHyJia. BGTGp, AQX.£b, HGHaCTbG HJ1H C B M p G n a f l B b W r a , a OH B BOCTOprG. Y X O^MT, yG3)t:aGT, 3anHpaGTca B C B O G M K 3 6 H H G T G , — K p b i w a r p e M M T , B T p y 6 e B O G T , CT3BHH x j i o n a i o T . 2 2 5 / PaCCBGT ^GHCTBHTGJlbHO HaCTyVWfl, HQ n e ^ a f l b H b M Ha MTHOBGHMG C B0CT0K3 3aCKB03HJl pyMflHGU, 3apM'. B B 0 3 ^ y X G , HaCblLU,GHHOM HcnapGHHflMH, T O M H O M e j i b K H y j i a 6 o j i 6 3 H G H H a f l y j i b i f iKa . . . r i oTOM o 6 j i a K a HaBMCJIM r y i M G H H M J K G , H TOJlbKO n o TOMy, K3K B OpOCTpaHCTBG B03HHKaJIH HGpa3JIHMHMbie n p e X ^ G n o a p o f i H O C T H M BCG C^GJiaJIOCb CGpbIM, o u H a x e H H b i M , CKyMHbiM, M O » : H O SbiJio ^ o r a a a T b C f l , MTO j i y H a n o r a c j i a H CBGTMT COJIH14G. OTOBCIO^y BGflJIO M6M-T0 XOJIO^HblM M 6e3npMK>THblM. — . . . 3 a M G M , r o B o p H J i O H , npoTOKOJibi H anGJiJi f lUHH: 4JIHHH0 M a o p o r o ; TO JIM ^GJ io M a T y u j K a — p o 3 r a : fibicTpo, ^ G U J G B O M GojibHO. TaK ubuio n o c T y n j i G H O M C M O M M a p y n o M . B BOJiocTb H a n n c a j i H noBGJiMTGJibHyio 3 a n H C K y , B napBOG xe BOCKpecGHbG c o S p a j i c a c y a , Bbi3BajiH <f>G^io M BblCGKJIM. KOHGMHO fl yMOJlf lJ l noma^MTb GrO, HO OTeU, 6blJI TBGp^ B 3THX C B O H X npHHU.Hnax. O H O T B 6 M 3 J I M H G , MTO T p n a u a T b J IGT nopo j i C B O M X KpGnOCTHblX, M TaK K3K nopOJI no Cnp3BG^JIMB0CTM, TO KpOMG <*XnaCM6o» OT C3MMX X G H3K333HHWX HMMGTO HG CJIblX3Jl, HO BM^GJl pa3Bpai)43IOUJ1GG ^ G H C T B M G noSj iaxeK MJiM, eu^e x y x e , n p a B M J i b H o r o c y ^ G S H o r o p336Mp3TGJ lbCTB3. 

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