VIIIRUSSIAN LITERATURE IN 1916
I read, as ever, a great number of contemporary Russian books, spent many hours in bookshops, and it may not be out of place to give my impression of the literature of the hour.
Undoubtedly the great emotional impulse of the opening of the war in Russia has passed. This is reflected very clearly in current literature. The flood of printed lectures, war-pamphlets, and poems has ceased. Volumes of war stories are no longer printed, and indeed the war as a literary topic has become of minor interest. In the clearance it is now possible to observe the great desolation which the war haswrought. There is a strange silence in Russia. What was before the war has passed; what shall be after has not begun to be. There is as yet no promise of the future anywhere.
Not that books have not been published in 1916. They have been published thickly, despite the absence of genius, the scarcity of paper, and the supposed dearth of readers. Fonvisin gets into her eighteenth thousand with “Innocent and Yet to Blame,” and “The Keys of Happiness” goes into the sixth sequel. “The End of the War,” a novel by Lef Zhdanof, runs through several editions. “Russian Master,” an enthralling yellow-back of 470 pages by Lappo-Danilevsky, is reprinted many times. The translation of the novels of W. J. Locke flood over every bookseller’s counter and railway station book-stall. New books are certainly as plentiful as ever. But they are mostly interimvolumes whose object is to pass the time away till the clamour of the war be over.
Gorky, who appears more and more as an editor and essayist, has issued a volume of translated Armenian literature, but he is putting forth no creative artistic work, and perhaps finds little time for it. As a reward, however, politically-minded Radical Russia certainly looks to him for light and leading. Andreef goes on writing, but seems to have fallen into minor importance. Viacheslaf Ivanof has just written an excellent book of essays on Dostoevsky, Solovyof, Tolstoy, etc., which ought to be translated into English together with his former book “From Star to Star.” Artsibashef continues to write salacious stories for the Russian middle-class, and seems to reflect their life and mind. Igor Severanin is quiescent, but his latest volume of poems,printed on bad paper, is dedicated to his “Thirteenth,” by which he apparently means his thirteenth “lady friend.” A curious volume lately confiscated by the police is “Father Leontius and his Lady Admirers,” an account of Rasputin, written in the form of a fictitious narrative by a serious student of sectarianism and religious phenomena—Prugavin. The society ladies circle round Leontius and cry out “Alleluia!” “Sabaoth!” “Three in One and One in Three!” which seems very shocking and novel to Russians, though it only reminds the English reader of the Agapemonites at Clapton and similar phenomena. Greater than the problem of the psychology of Leontius seems to be the problem of the psychology of the refined and normal women who can hail him as God. Lef Zhdanof’s popular novel on the war is very friendly to the German peopleand gives them a new chance after a political revolution. Balmont, the popular poet, has written an essay in one volume entitled “Poetry as Magic,” and parts are highly reminiscent of Stevenson’s “Art of Writing.” He analyses the functions of the letters of the alphabet:Lis a caress;ois space triumphant;uis the music of noise, the cry of terror;mis man shutting his lips, it is all the dumb can say in their anguish, etc.
Walter Pater is being translated, and seems to be appreciated by cultured Russians, though it is a pity that only fragments and not the whole of his masterpiece “Marius the Epicurean” are appearing in the collection of his works. There is certainly a great demand for English books, and our literature remains in vogue. And books about England have been appearing, the latest being Nabokof’s account of hisvisit with the journalists. It is somewhat inadequate as an account of England, but then it pretends to reflect only the impressions of this officially guided tour. Nabokof seems to have been greatly impressed by Sir Edward Grey as a new type of diplomatist, a man whose strength lies in the fact that he is always a gentleman and tells the simple truth. Chukovsky’s book, “The Silent Ones have Spoken,” on the British Tommy is popular. Incidentally it may be remarked that Chukovsky, who made such an impression in England, is a journalistic critic of a penetrative quality. His “From Chekhof to our Days,” though containing some things impossible to print in English, is yet a very clever book. A new correspondent of some ability is now representing theRusskoe Slovoin England and giving a more representative account of our life than the old school of academic Radicalswho usually represent Russian newspapers abroad.
Rozanof’s book on the war, “The War and the Popular Awakening,” has been out of print for some time, and presumably his publisher has no paper. Novikof’s popular novel on the present point of view with regard to the Revolution is also unobtainable. Many good books of previous years have not been reprinted through the dearness or scarcity of paper. On the other hand, certain more obscure publishers who have managed to hoard up paper can carry on their business in full swing. The chief commercial event of the year in the literary world has been the purchase by Seetin of theNiva, the extremely popular weekly. As Seetin already owns theRusskoe Slovoand several other papers and literary enterprises, he is becoming somewhat of a literary king, an interesting figure in modernRussia, for he started life as a peasant, became an itinerant hawker of penny books for the people, and is now a man of great power in Russia.
M. Protopopof, now Minister of the Interior, a man of large commercial interests, is now, backed by certain banks (previously of a strong German complexion but now said to be decently metamorphosed), starting a large new Petrograd newspaper (name not yet decided). There were many blunders in the advertisement of this newspaper enterprise. It was stated that Korolinko would be editor and that Léonid Andreef and many other popular writers would contribute. But Korolinko fought shy of it and the other writers one by one disclaimed interest in the publication. Maxim Gorky was asked to edit it but found out apparently that it was not revolutionary in tendency, was capitalist ratherthan labour, and that the object was international trade prosperity, and he withdrew entirely. Now A. V. Amphiteatrof, the Italian correspondent of theRusskoe Slovoand author of a great number of curiously interesting historical studies, is to be the editor. He is an Italophile and favours much more friendly relationship between Italy and Russia; in politics he may be said to be Radical and has got into trouble with the Government upon occasion. It will be interesting to see whether the enormous capital behind this paper will give it the chance of success that the same amount of capital behind a new paper in England would give. In Russia large capital is considered fair prey by all who can get itching fingers near it.
These notes give an indication of literary currents and tendencies in the autumn of 1916, in the midst of the war. It shouldbe added that, despite the great rise in prices of all things in Russia, the price of books remains almost as cheap as ever. Reading certainly increases, and consequently makes the general cost of publication less. The most characteristic of the new war phenomena of Russia is still the cry “Gazette, Gazette!” flung up at the trains from the fields wherever you travel. You are asked to throw your old newspapers out of the train window, that the people in the villages may read them. This cry will hardly die down when the war is over. But will the gazette satisfy? Will not books have to follow, and more substantial, better books, because of what the peasants have learned from reality? Russia is waiting for new national writers.
An interesting phenomenon in the life of contemporary Russia is the position takenup by Maxim Gorky as a challenger of the national and traditional ideas in Russian life and literature. He has become the spokesman of a considerable number of working men and middle-class Russians, but has at the same time brought upon his head the wrath not only of old-fashioned people but of a great number of liberal and progressive thinkers. His campaign began when he returned to Russia at the beginning of 1914 and launched his attack on Dostoevsky. The war seemed to cause a lull in his activities, but last winter he resumed his verbal warfare with more energy than ever. His point of view is, that Dostoevsky is bad for Russia, because his outlook was concentrated on suffering and death. Russia must turn her back resolutely on Dostoevsky and seek life. Russia must cease to be mystical, suffering, melancholy, and must become clear-minded andmistress of her soul. The challenge raised a great clamour. At first not many sided with him; but since the appearance of “Two Souls”[3]and “A Letter to the Reader”[4]in the journalLietopisit becomes evident that he has some following. He has raised a question, and many Russians are considering it for the first time.
The Russian which Gorky attacks is just that which is spiritually interesting to us in England—the mystical and unpractical Russia. Russia on pilgrimage, artistic Russia; and that which he wants Russia to be is just what would have least spiritual interest for us—Russia optimistic, cocksure, businesslike, well-dressed, smart, and Western. He writes:
“The Russian seeking-after-God comes from an insufficiency of conviction in the force of reason—from the need of a weak man to find some guiding will outside himself.“The turning to mysticism and romantic fantasies is a turning towards stagnation, and is contrary to the interests of a young democracy, poisoning and enfeebling it, giving it a passive attitude towards reality, and suggesting doubt in the force of reason....“The mind of the ancient East weighs most heavily and murderously on our Russian life, and has an influence immeasurably deeper on our psychology than on that of Western Europe....“We Russians have two souls; one, derived from the wandering Mongol, is that of the dreamer, mystic, idler, believer in fate; the other is the soul of the Slav, whichcould burn up bravely and clearly, but cannot because of the other.”
“The Russian seeking-after-God comes from an insufficiency of conviction in the force of reason—from the need of a weak man to find some guiding will outside himself.
“The turning to mysticism and romantic fantasies is a turning towards stagnation, and is contrary to the interests of a young democracy, poisoning and enfeebling it, giving it a passive attitude towards reality, and suggesting doubt in the force of reason....
“The mind of the ancient East weighs most heavily and murderously on our Russian life, and has an influence immeasurably deeper on our psychology than on that of Western Europe....
“We Russians have two souls; one, derived from the wandering Mongol, is that of the dreamer, mystic, idler, believer in fate; the other is the soul of the Slav, whichcould burn up bravely and clearly, but cannot because of the other.”
One may reasonably question the correctness of this differentiation, seeing that when we scratch a Russian we do not find a dreamer. We should be inclined to say exactly the reverse; that the gentle, dreaming, poetic soul was that of the Slav—and that Gorky would find the educated Tartar considerably nearer his ideal than any characteristic Slav.
The article entitled “Two Souls” made a considerable stir, the magazine went quickly out of print, and a great number of criticisms were made in the Press and on the platform. Their general tone was that Gorky was out of his true medium and had better go back to his art. As a result Gorky wrote “A Letter to the Reader” as a sort of collective answer to “the moreor less ironical or angry comments of my colleagues of the pen,” and sarcastically quoted Lescov: “On the Russian people it is good to look from afar, especially when he prays and believes”; and he went on to excuse his being “a bad publicist” and to plead that his words should have weight as being those of one who had lived through a great deal and knew Russian life at least as well as any of his opponents.
In this reply he exhibited a rather curious attitude towards Anglo-Russian friendship which it would be well for English people to note—a belief that we seek friendship with Russia merely to exploit her materially and to keep her in a commercial bondage similar to that which she has suffered from the Germans.
“Our Russian philosophers argue in this way (says Gorky). The alliance with Englandis worthy of the greatness of the Russian people because it will lead to the union of the nations under the standard of the true spiritual culture of the mystical East. There are only two world Powers—Russia and England. And these two States have, as the foundation of their power, the lands and peoples of the religious East, rather than of the materialistic West. To these two is the problem of uniting culturally India, China, Japan. And when this union of the peoples of the mystic East takes place, the earth will be given ultimate liberty in peace. But for that end it is necessary that Russia keep true to her mission and establish her culture upon the mystical revelations leading to peace and love.”
“Our Russian philosophers argue in this way (says Gorky). The alliance with Englandis worthy of the greatness of the Russian people because it will lead to the union of the nations under the standard of the true spiritual culture of the mystical East. There are only two world Powers—Russia and England. And these two States have, as the foundation of their power, the lands and peoples of the religious East, rather than of the materialistic West. To these two is the problem of uniting culturally India, China, Japan. And when this union of the peoples of the mystic East takes place, the earth will be given ultimate liberty in peace. But for that end it is necessary that Russia keep true to her mission and establish her culture upon the mystical revelations leading to peace and love.”
But Gorky bids these philosophers be undeceived. It is no use, he says, their getting rid of German capitalists simply tomake way for English ones. That was what English friendship meant. Such a book, for instance, as “The Way of Martha and the Way of Mary” met with so much approval because in picturing us as holy lazy-bones and unpractical persons it allowed the English capitalist to rub his hands with glee, seeing in Russia a future British colony such as Africa or India. Whilst Russia is in her present state, friendship with any European Power must be the friendship of the earthenware pot and the iron kettle. Russia has to fight not for “ultimate liberty,” but for the simplest civil rights as citizens. We must try to give the people education and try to train their will toward life.
No doubt Gorky makes an appeal in these words; and if the average Russian were asked what were the foundations of Anglo-Russian friendship apart from theneeds of the war, he would answer, Commercial exploitation. Trade, it is true, is put jealously forward as something to be captured after the war; but it seems a pity that Russians should not realise the depth, the sincerity of our interest in their characteristic religion, literature, and life. Whatever political tendency our interest may help, it is nevertheless true that England obtains from Russia spiritual help; and a great deal of that which Gorky condemns in his own nation is coming to our help to redeem us from commercialism and materialism. It is something of a paradox that the bright spirits of Russia should hate the melancholy vistas of Tambof and Kaluga and that the bright spirits of England should hate the gloom of Newcastle and Leeds, that one should look with love from England to the wandering pilgrims of Tambof and the other should sigh for the clamourof wheels where “man at least is master.” But paradox is tolerable where misunderstanding is not. For paradoxes abound in truth, and truth is made up of such paradoxes.
Later on in his essay Gorky remarks that stormy and revolutionary eras have produced great men, and his first example is Shakespeare, who flourished “in the stormy time of Queen Elizabeth.” But rather, they were “spacious days”; and great men, great thoughts are almost always born in spacious days, halcyon days, when the dove broods on waters. Strength is with calmness, not with noise and quarrellings and revolutions. The critics are probably right when they say, “Return to Art.” Art is creative, whereas argument is generally destructive. And Maxim Gorky evidently wishes to create.
Maxim Gorky may be called the leaderof theporazhentsi, the people who believe in defeat. He has lately added to “Two Souls” and “A Letter to the Reader”—the “Letters of William Simpleton, a Knowing Stranger.”[5]But it is what we call “half-baked.” Gorky has read an enormous number of books since he tucked his blouse inside and became respectable, but it is difficult to see where he, or the reader, has profited. He does not know where he is.