Introduction to the works

Introduction to the works

 

When we find ourselves swept away by the furious tides of Russian history, it is indeed a journey we never forget. What is even more captivating is the brilliance of Russian authors at the time, authors who stood against the oppressive aristocracy and wrote about the true struggles and belief systems of that poor, yet gallant society that, through their communal strength and desire for change, altered the societal and political spectrum of the global community forever. It was the Russians who brought to us the advents of Communism—for although Karl Marx did indeed develop this economic and political theorem, it was the great Muscovites who brought it to the face of humanity. Now whether this ended up being a benevolent or malign aspect of their culture is up for debate; there is no question, however, that our world would not be the same without the trials and turbulence of the Russian revolution and its aftermath.

It is at the eve of the parturition of revolutionary creeds—whose birth came into the Russian countryside like wildfire through a desiccated forest—that we find ourselves in the first novel studied in this dissertation, Fathers and Sons by Ivan Turgenev, written in 1862. It is here that we find extreme varieties of radicalism beginning to form, and its highly symbolic and philosophical themes create a vivid realm of passionate desire for change in an oppressive world. Turgenev, born in 1818, was the son of a wealthy family, born in the Ukraine region of the Russian empire.[1] His mother’s cruel attitude towards serfs (peasants) deeply affected him, and after watching his mother suffocate a serf child to death for crying too loudly, Turgenev's mind became permanently scarred. He studied at universities in Moscow and Berlin, where he met and associated with radical thinkers of the time. His writings all reflect this radicalism in the face of subjugation by a higher class—sadly, Russia's censored appreciation of reality forced Turgenev into exile for his seemingly anti-monarchical works, and in 1883 the brilliant artist died, in France. His final wish was to be buried in the Motherland.[2]

Born in 1821 in Moscow, Fyodor Dostoevsky writes more from a psychological perspective, delving us deep into the pathos of a tormented soul, and bringing to light the painfulness of existence and the anguish of being. His works often seem as a prelude to Nietzsche, especially concerning his ideas of the Übermensch (superman, or overman)—consider Crime and Punishment’s Rodion Raskolnikov, who believes that he is above the law, and therefore morality permits him to murder another person. In his twenties, Dostoevsky joined a socialist writers group, a fellowship of radical literature enthusiasts who read and discussed the banned books of the time.[3] The Tsar's secret police discovered the group, and exiled Dostoevsky to Siberia; he was later sentenced to death by firing squad. However, at the final moment before the gun rang out, the Tsar gave Dostoevsky a second chance at life; nonetheless, he spent several years later in the unforgiving, bitter cold of the Gulag camps. After returning, he developed a gambling addiction, and wrote furiously to pay off his debts. Notes from Underground is one of those writings, and displays the deep psychological despair of a man exiled to the underground, and the true meaning of life in Russia at the time. His tormented spirit finally rested in peace in 1881.

 

How is it that these two relatively ordinary—or even proscribed—authors did such an exceptional job at capturing the very essence of Russian society within the grasps of their literary skilfulness? One must understand that throughout this near sixty-year time span between Father and Sons (1862) and the Russian revolution of 1917—and onwards—the various aristocratic regimes had kept a black veil over the face of Russia, weakening their collective power to rise up against oppression; in this fashion, Russia was kept in the relatively peaceful dark for hundreds of years, while all around them Europe flourished like blossoms in early spring. The reason these books were ill at ease with the ruling factions of the time was because they captured—with a Platonic hue resembling of his theory of forms, or the eternal truths behind subjective reality—the essence of the Russian impediment. This obstacle in the course of progress is suffering, and inequality of the highest order; the solution to this problem was a complete reversal of the former system, settling finally in the virgin depths of communism.

These novels not only depict the issues arising from a disparate society, but hints at the various beliefs about what is to be done (no comparison meant to Chernyshevsky’s book of the same title). Particularly, however, we find in these works a true commentary; that is to say, an opinion on the issue. The question that remains, then, is how the Russian revolution—the very climax of this struggle for life and freedom in Russia— affected the people—whether it was a beacon of light to a disparaged people, or a sabre unsheathed by the Communists to cut Russia off by the legs. Through a comprehensive study of the history, philosophy, and reflections of Russian society found in the aforementioned works, perhaps this study may reach a conclusion, by examining specifically the aspects that make up any given society.

 

Karl Marx once wrote, “Religion is the opiate of the people”[4]. Certainly, in nineteenth and early-twentieth century Russia, religion played a vital role in the structure of society; religion was the central pillar in almost every Russian’s life. Particularly, the Russian Orthodox Church’s power was almost at hand with the supposedly divine power of the Tsar—this created an almost theocratic culture, within the bounds of the aristocracy and monarchy, who majestically informed their subjects with scrupulous faces that they were the heralds of God Himself. It is quite understandable, then, that these authors, who stood as the voice for the disenchanted of the vast and exacting Russian landscape, would attack that religion. To these peasants of an age centuries past, religion is their lifeblood; the authors understood this, and attacked it with full force, knowing that religion was within the autocratic Tsar’s grasp. If religion were cut loose from society, the entire strata of Russian life would fall, and from their still-burning ashes would raise a great nation for the proletarian. Keep in mind, however, Dostoevsky’s pious tendencies concerning Christianity, which seems ironic considering the melancholy atmosphere of his works; Dostoevsky was a poverty-stricken man, of whom—like the millions of other destitute peasants of that era—religion was his only hope. Turgenev, on the other hand, arose from families of a higher background, who therefore did not require religion as their crutch (this does not mean that the rich were not religious; only that it was more fervent among the poor).

However, the revolutionaries bring this so-called “great nation” into question as well. Although we know, through the trials and tribulations of time, that Russia’s Tsardom would eventually digress into a quasi-socialist dictatorship, these authors could only speculate. What they believed was beneficial to the Russian people was dependant on the history of the time, and what was occurring, as well as where they lived and what conditions of life they had been exposed to. What one must understand, however, is that it is quite simple to gather up a group of people into believing a certain cause—i.e. socialism, for example—when the antithesis of said cause oppresses those very same people. In other words, many Russians would have been more than happy to fight with the Marxists, simply because they were combating the monarchy. Therefore, was socialism really the answer? These texts may give us a clue as to the real problems of how a socialist government may or may not have been the best solution, in addition to other commentaries on Russian political policy.

Although politics is of vital importance in studying the logistics of any society, it is the individual that is paramount in examining the state of the Russian people in this tempestuous period of revolutions—both on an incorporeal and material level. How is this so? Consider that one’s very existence is what determines the actions of the whole—without the individual, there would be no society. In this way, we can view a theory of existence and being as a reflection of the society surrounding the very individual we so fixatedly examine. Philosophy is also the very backbone of our political theories—Fathers and Sons exemplifies this idea with the ‘theory’ of nihilism. Essentially, we cannot simply study a culture without venturing through the various tunnels and caves that mark their very being; we must look at the people form every light, with no predispositions, nor indolence.

At last, after adventuring about the very aspects of what makes up a society, we reach the people themselves, as a whole. The Russian Revolution was not about a single entity standing up against what they believed was corruption; it was a mass revolt against the atrocities of the past, an attempt to change the future for their successors. In this period, we find a vicissitude of ideas permeating the social fabric; it was the job of these authors to unravel the wool, and elicit the beliefs through to the naked eye. Whether the disentangling of the Russian mosaic was useful or not, the questions the authors leave us remain the same: the times were changing, that was inescapable—but how were the people changing? Was it for the good? Without a doubt, once one heeds all these factors, some sort of conclusion may be sought.

 

The problem of time is everywhere: whether or not it fluctuates or remains constant is up for physicists and philosophers to decipher, but nonetheless it remains an issue when we try to examine every aspect of the state of a society through many sources, one of which being literature. There is very little work written during the actual proletarian uprising; for this reason, works here have been chosen that were written well before and the Revolution. This is because it is always best to examine any problem or issue—and in this case, a society as well—from the very roots. Both Fathers and Sons and Notes from Underground were thought up a good fifty or so year before the Revolution when new beliefs and ideals were just beginning to emerge—by studying the visions of the people and the self in the late nineteenth-century through literature, a developed cross-section of society at the time might be achieved.

Jean-Paul Sartre said that, “Hell is other people”—most assuredly, we will see whether this is true concerning the factors of the Russian Revolution: did the great changes in religious, political, and philosophical thought by dissidents of Russia’s former societal structure create havoc on their very people, or did this so-called havoc actually create a better nation for the individual and for society.

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[1] Various (2001), p. 624

[2] Kunitz, S. (1967), pp. 935-937

[3] Various (2001), p. 174

[4] Marx, K. (1843).