Russia Books

Eric Lohrs Studie beschäftigt sich mit verschiedenen Methoden, die der späte zaristische Staat während des Ersten Weltkrieges dazu nutzte Bevölkerungsgruppen, die als Rußland fremd und daher potentiell feindlich gesinnt verstandenen wurden, zu verfolgen. Diese Maßnahmen schlossen unter anderem Deportationen oder zwangsweise Migrationen, Enteignungen sowie die Zulassung oder Provokation von Pogromen ein. Auch illustriert Lohr hier ausführlich, daß diese Verfolgungen vom Grossteil der russischen Bevölkerung unterstützt wurden, ja die Regierung manchmal gegen spontane Pogrome der russischen Bevölkerung gegen Nichtrussen einzuschreiten hatte beziehungsweise einzuschreiten versuchte.
Für die deutsche Leserschaft dürfte dieses Buch auch deshalb interessant sein, da es bei Lohr oft um das widersprüchliche Verhalten der russischen Regierung gegenüber den verschiedenen deutschstämmigen Gruppen, wie den Baltendeutschen und deutschen Siedlern, geht. Dies war nicht zuletzt eine Folge der Präsenz deutschstämmiger Personen am Zarenhof und im Beamtenapparat, was womöglich ein wichtiger Bestimmungsfaktor für die Februarrevolution von 1917 war. Auch ist es aus deutscher Sicht verblüffend zu beobachten, daß die zaristische Regierung in ihrem Verhalten gegenüber Nichtrussen die jüdische Bevölkerung des Zarenreiches in vieler Hinsicht mit der deutschstämmigen gleichsetzte. Wichtig ist zudem Lohrs Hinweis darauf, daß die mit breiter Unterstüzung in der russischen Bevölkerung durchgeführten xenophoben Kampagnen einen wichtigen Hintergrund für das dann überproportionale Engagement deutsch- und jüdischstämmiger sowie anderer nichtrussischer junger Männer und Frauen in den revolutionären Bewegungen des späten Zarismus darstellte (S. 169).
Aufschlußreich ist weiterhin Lohrs theoretische Perspektive auf die Ursachen und Mechanismen des Anstiegs nationalistischer Gefühle und Aktionen. Er sieht den Formierungsprozeß von Nationalismen weniger als einen langfristigen und kontinuierlichen Prozeß sondern als geprägt von markanten, mobilisierenden Schlüsselereignissen, die quasi als Katalysatoren für Nationswerdungsprozesse wirken, an. Er konzipiert den Ersten Weltkrieg und die damit zusammenhängenden Kampagnen innerhalb des Russischen Reiches als einen solchen Schub in der Prägung des russischen Nationalbewußtseins und Nationalismus.
Eine derartige Interpretation stellt nicht nur eine gute Rechtfertigung für die Fokussierung Lohrs auf eine eng eingegrenzte Geschichtsperiode bei der Beleuchtung des russischen Nationswerdungsprozesses dar. Diese theoretische Perspektive kann auch dazu dienen, die oft von russischer und teilweise auch westlich-russophiler Seite beklagte angeblich mangelnde Ausprägung des heutigen russischen Nationalbewußtseins (z.B. bei Geoffrey Hosking) zu hinterfragen. Wenn es bereits Anfang des vergangenen Jahrhunderts eine derart tiefgehende, in alle Bevölkerungsteile hineinreichende und intensive Identifikation mit der russischen Nation sowie darüber hinaus erhebliche Xenophobie unter den Russen gegeben hat, ist schwer nachzuvollziehen, wie man heute noch von einem Rückstand in der Nationsbildung der Russen sprechen kann. Da es bereits lange vor der Russifizierungskampagne und dem Antisemitismus unter Stalin sowie dem Wiedererblühen des russischen Nationalismus seit Breznev ein derart markantes katalysierendes Ereignis in der Entwicklung des russischen Nationalismus gegeben hat, scheint ein Befürwortung des Erstarkens des russischen Nationalbewußtsein heute als nur wenig verständlich (wobei anzumerken ist, daß Lohr derartige weitergehende, hier von mir eingeführte Implikationen seines Buches womöglich nicht bejahen würde).
Obwohl Lohr hier nur eine thematisch und zeitlich eng eingegrenzte Episode in der Evolution des russischen Nationalismus beleuchtet, ist seine Studie bedeutsam, da es eben ein Schlüsselereignis in diesem Prozeß beleuchtet. Lohr tut dies zudem mit einer Gründlichkeit und theoretischen Finesse, die seine Studie als in vieler Hinsicht beispielhaft erscheinen läßt.

Written for anyone interested in the First World War, this book tells the fascinating story of a major wave of ethnic cleansing that swept the eastern front between 1914-1917. "Nationalizing the Russian Empire" details how total war radicalized Russian politics, forcing Nicholas II to embrace a chauvinistic brand of populism that quickly undermined the imperial regime from within.

Focusing on tsarist attempts to neutralize the domestic threat posed by foreign nationals (the so-called "enemy aliens"), Lohr reveals how these measures evolved to affect many Russian subjects of German, Jewish and Muslim background. Entire populations were sent into internal exile. Land and property were sequestered and seized. Ethnic Russians were encouraged to think about their society in the most nativist of terms.

But instead of bolstering the empire, this campaign and the wave of interethnic hostility that it stirred up actually undermined the Romanovs' hold on power. Although the 1917 Russian Revolution is traditionally linked to military reversals at the front and class tensions in the rear, Lohr suggests that it was also the empire's clumsy attempt to engage in the modern politics of populist nationalism that compromised the stability of the society, the productivity of the economy, and the legitimacy of imperial rule itself.

New Myth, New World takes you on a journey deep from Rüssia's past to the present when the regime has fallen (even exploring the current relevance of "excrement" as a metaphore in Soviet literature). What I liked about this book was the well researched exposition of this work, as well as the meticulous prose that did not stray from being objective. The author is well-read, and consistently stays on track, and even when you think there has been a mistake (for example, quoting a 20th century figure for an idea Schopenhauer articulated a century before in his criticism of Hegel and his fellow mumblers), you'll find a few pages later that you yourself were wrong in thinking the author to be mistaken. A la fin, this is a good example of scholary work, which should be studied and learned from.

Other recommendations: Cultural Exchange (A book dealing with the Cold War and the exchange of information that helped lead to the downfall of the Soviet Union)

Nietzsche in Turin (A short work dealing with Níetzsche's last days, but strays enough from the subject to make it much more enjoyable than the crumbling insanity which was befalling good old Fritz at the time.)

Toilet: The Novel, by Michael Szymczyk (A Tribute to the Literary Works of Franz Kafka)

New Myth, New World: From Nietzsche To Stalinism by Bernice Glatzer Rosenthal is a thoughtful and scholarly reinterpretation of Nietzsche's lasting influence upon Soviet culture. Drawing on diverse primary sources in religion, philosophy, political ideology, architecture, street theater, and more, New Myth, New World is a learned and informative series of discourses combining to illustrate and demonstrate the lasting power of ideas in helping to shape the character, culture, and politics of the Russian nation and its governments. New Myth, New World is a welcome, significant, scholarly, and very strongly recommended contribution to Soviet Studies, Russian Cultural History, and Philosophy Studies academic reference collections as well as International Studies student supplemental reading lists.

A well-written and enjoyable work, d'Encausse offers a new interpretive approach to Nicholas II's influence upon the course of Russian history. Rather than weak and insecure, Nicholas II emerges with strongly held convictions of his obligations as autocrat though plagued by the realization of Russia's need to modernize. As for Empress Alexandra and Rasputin, they were ultimately unable to change Nicholas's fundamental positions on domestic or foreign policy. Shadowing Nicholas II's vision of Russian autocracy, d'Encausse also portrays a Russia experiencing sweeping changes in its social, economic, and political structures, changes which were largely the work of Nicholas's own ministers. Virtually until the last months before the revolutions of 1917, d'Encausse emphasizes options remaining to Nicholas II and, thus, leaving open the course of Russian history. Within the context of 1917 and the end of the autocracy, Russia's journey towards a modern democratic society were interrupted by Lenin and the Bolsheviks. Clearly recognizing these competing themes, d'Encausse provokes the reader to reassess Nicholas II as a leader, a historical actor, and one working apparently against the historical currents for change dominating his reign. Overall, this work presents an intriguing reassessment of Russian history and the role of great persons.

Very informative book, but qualifies more as a textbook than nonfiction. Not an easy read, (keep a dictionary handy) but crammed full of essential and interesting information for all fans of Nicholas II. Would be a great reference resource for anyone researching Nicholas II or Russia during this era.

That Nil Sorsky's name is enmeshed in the extremely complex matrix of religious and political forces of sixteenth century Russia is no harbinger of the man or his writings. If anything, Sorsky's spiritual heritage was something of a counterbalance to the Russian fever to restore religious and political eminence vis-à-vis Renaissance Europe. Sorsky was an old-school monastic who favored an individualistic, isolated, and rustic lifestyle as an option to highly visible and influential monasteries associated with the other charismatic monk-writer of his time, Joseph Volotsky.

In his preface John Mina provides a brief but useful sketch of the struggles of Byzantine Christianity dating roughly to the Fourth Crusade in which western Roman Catholic forces seized the holy city of Constantinople. Only a generation later the Khan dynasty laid waste Russian cities and their sacred institutions. This multiple destruction from west and east appears to have had something of an apocalyptic effect upon Russian Christians-their Babylonian exile, so to speak-and sparked a revival ripe for intensive penance and mystical experience known in that part of the world as "hesychasm." As Mina explains it, hesychasm was a spirituality of strength born from the power of the closeness of God. It was not a monastic feature per se, but permeated all aspects of Christian life, including art and politics. Not unexpectedly over the years there were many Russians for whom hesychasm was an inadequate response to the indignities inflicted by western Catholicism and who saw this highly spiritualized way of life as out of step with the humanism of the Renaissance.

It is at this sixteenth century juncture that Sorsky and his writings became a post mortem rallying point against a growing triumphalism that infected the Russian Church and, apparently, most monasteries as well. About his personal life surprisingly little is known. He may have been born in Moscow, and as a young man had the good fortune to enter a strict monastery and receive excellent formation around the writings of Symeon the New Theologian, John Climacus, Gregory of Sinai, and Nil of Sinai. Sorsky would also spend time at the famous Mt. Athos center of monastic spirituality during his formative years. It is little wonder that, with his own idealism and an excellent formation behind him, Sorsky's commitment to hesychastic monasticism would blossom into extraordinary devotion.

Sorsky's major contribution to Russian monasticism-a gift that regrettably was ultimately discarded-was his insight that full union with God and submission of the passions was a full time mission, best done away from creature comforts and human communion. He founded his skete-a tiny village of sorts consisting of single dwelling huts-on the shores of a brackish river away from the mainstream of city life. As a rule he accepted members who already had formation and service in a larger and more established monastery. It is not hard to imagine that Sorsky's style of skete living was interpreted as a not so subtle rebuke against "softer" or "opportunistic" monasteries looking to enhance position within ecclesiastical circles.

There is, in fact, a kind of siege mentality to Sorsky's writings here, consisting of his Rule for the monks of the skete and two smaller works, The Tradition, and a collection of letters. Gracefully rendered in translation by Father George Maloney, S.J., world-renowned scholar in Eastern Christian Spirituality, Sorsky emphasized the strength of the devil and the vigilance necessary for the monk to maintain his communion with God. His tone is highly moralistic as he outlines the various ways that the powers of evil work to undermine the soul: through gluttony, fornication, covetousness, anger, sadness, acedia, vainglory, and pride. His commentaries on the vices are fascinating. Acedia, a term foreign to western spirituality, is described in language that suggests a severe depression leading to despair. Sorsky observes that this kind of mood is not unexpected among men who live hard and solitary lives. [p. 80] With regard to fornication, Sorsky advises his monks to "keep away from living with youths with effeminate and pretty faces and refrain from looking at them." [p. 77]

Primarily his advice is threefold: know when to ask for help, turn to the written word of the great monastic writers, and acquire the skill of praying the appropriate prayer to the spiritual crisis at hand. Sorsky does not envision himself as an innovator; he quotes freely from the Scriptures and monastic writing. If anything he sees himself as protecting a proven spiritual journey handed down from monastic ancestry. He does not dwell upon mystical experience or rewards, in part because his eschatology was more final than real, and in part because of his belief that in the final analysis, with temptations removed, God would care for his men in uniquely personal ways.

What does a twenty-first century reader take from this work? My own immediate reaction was awe at the breadth of the Christian tradition. This work is a tonic for parochialism and the blurred boundaries between the Kingdom of God and the Secular City, so to speak. It is something of a slap of cold water on the face, a hard reminder that moral flabbiness and compromise have eternal consequences. In the final analysis, Sorsky's message echoes Christ's words to Pilate, "My Kingdom is not of this world." The reader will either feel compelled to look at his own life or succumb to that wretched acedia.

Father George Maloney's luminous translation of Nil Sorsky's
writings provides the 21st c. lay reader with new eyes to grasp
Nil's perspectives on the Jesus Prayer, inner attention, the descent of the mind into the heart, the practice of detachment,
and especially, the gift of tears. In each case, problems with a
given practice are clearly stated and followed by solutions and
practical programs of action to implement the solutions. Nil
offers insights on vices and again proposes practical actions for our daily struggles which are related to continual prayer.
The reader is frequently encouraged not to become disheartened through scriptural passages and writings from the Fathers.
Though originally composed for 16th c. monastics, the writings of
Nil Sorsky are made relevant by Father George Maloney for lay
people in our times who wish to have a deeper understanding of the prayer of the heart.

In his 1984 book "The Unbearable Lightness of Being", Milan Kundera, the most prominent Czech émigré writer, defines the condition of exile as a "tight-rope high above the ground without the net afforded a person by the country where he has family, colleagues, and friends, and where he can easily say what he has to say in a language he has known from childhood" . Svetlana Boym's novel provides a perfect illustration of this thesis. Her protagonist Tania (Tatiana) happens to share the name of the heroine of Pushkin's novel in verse "Eugene Onegin" Tatiana Larina, who epitomises the quintessential qualities of Russian identity. Boym's Tania is a contemporary Russian émigré who lives and works in America and travels to Paris to research the activities of the Eurasian circle in Paris in the 1930s, including Russian émigré Nina B. who was fascinated by Greta Garbo's performance in the Hollywood film "Ninochka". Nina B. had been murdered in the 1930s. Tatiana acts as a historian-detective to resolve the mysterious political circumstances of her death. Yet it would be hard to define this book as a typical suspense novel since it represents a hybrid genre. It contains passages from diaries, e-mails, letters and numerous conversations between Tania and Hungarian and Russian émigrés in Paris. Tatiana also travels to St Petersburg to attend the funeral of her grandmother, a former Gulag prisoner who had taught at secondary school. The narrative provides readers with an exciting opportunity to experience different periods and spaces. To a great extent, Tania represents a typical émigré intellectual whom Joseph Conrad identifies as a divided person split between two shores, a "homo duplex". Thus, for example, in her conversations with East Europeans in Paris she establishes an imaginary collective identity through performance of Soviet songs and popular jokes of the Soviet period. At the same time, Tania's journey through space begs comparison with classical picaresque novels that put to the fore the theme of spiritual journey and search for self identity. Being born in Lenigrad around 1960, Tatiana returns to her city in the late 1990s to attend her grandmother's funeral. Her trip to the renamed city helps her the re-discovery of her bond with it and she comes to terms with her own identity. Her visit to the Jewish cemetry in St Petersburg, for example, makes her realise she had become estranged from Yiddish language and culture because of the Soviet regime's alienation of many people from their cultural roots as a result of turning them into Soviet citizens, an abstract notion that failed as a binding force in the post-war period. In a laconic but emotionally charged manner, Boym concludes the chapter about the Jewish cemetery thus: "I look around at the crowded tombstones. Even after their death this people suffer from the shortage of space. Jewish names, Russified, Polonised, Germanised, float in front of my eyes. I can't see anymore. They are saying Kaddish for my grandmother in a language that I don't understand".
Like Kundera's novel, Boym's "Ninochka" is a richly layered text that combines jokes, documents and lively dialogues with political and philosophical overtones. It has numerous allusions to Russian writers and thinkers, including Dostoevsky, Chekhov, Nabokov, Berdiaev, Soloviev, Shestov, Trubetskoy, Savitsky and Gumilev. Boym's novel alerts readers to the importance of memory in the construction of personal and collective selves. It warns of the danger of historical amnesia that resulted, for example, in the emergence of new powerful ideology in post-communist Russia that resurrects an obscure form of the imperial philosophy formulated by the displaced Russian émigrés in Europe in the 1920-30s. The novel convincingly demonstrates that Eurasian ideology is a renewed form of Slavophile ideology ascribing a missionary role to the Russian people. It is difficult to define this novel as postmodernist pastiche, though it is made up from autobiographical, fictional and historical details. It is a totally new and exciting mode of writing that relies heavily on framing and montage. It brings together cinema and literature in order to highlight the boundaries between imaginary and real, fictional and historical, west and east. Its thought-provoking discourse challenges all our preconceptions about imaginary communities and imaginary identities. It constructs a playful space of its own that invites readers to relate to the role of a displaced subject who could adopt the various selves of Ninochka as a fictional cultural construct with an elastic identity that stretches from Greta Garbo to Nina Blank and Ninel' Markovna Bel'skaya. The dead female characters described in the novel prove to be very alive today: their ideas and stories continue to haunt a new generation of displaced Russians in Russia and abroad. Boym's novel is ideally suited for a broad audience: it is stimulating, exciting and entertaining.

Reviewed by Dr Alexandra Smith (University of Canterbury)

Here's one recent novel that I can recommend without reserve, and I know it will appeal to all sorts of readers. Svetlana Boym's first novel Ninochka is a murder mystery in which a contemporary émigrée Tanya Stern, a Ph. D. student in history at Columbia University, attempts to solve the murder of a woman named Nina Belskaya, who went to see the Paris premiere of the film Ninotchka the night before she was murdered late in 1939. Tanya speaks to elderly surviving members of Tanya's circle in Paris, and then her investigation is suddenly rerouted. Tanya's maternal grandmother dies in Leningrad, an event which prompts Tanya to leave Paris and attend her funeral and revisit her natal city for the first time since emigrating. In Russia, she learns of the crossing paths of her grandmother and the dead woman and tries to find out if Nina's murder was a political one prompted by the intrigues of the Stalinist Era.
All sorts of readers will find Ninochka hard to put down. First, it is a skillfully handled mystery story about a long unsolved murder, with evocative descriptions of Paris, Leningrad, Moscow, and New York City. Second, it will appeal to readers who are familiar with Ernst Lubitsch's 1939 film Ninotchka and who would enjoy seeing it presented in terms of the life of Russian exiles in Paris in the late 1930s. Third, the novel grants insight into the Eurasian movement of the 1920s-1930s and its revival since 1991. In general, it offers a perceptive view into the period 1991-1994 and the changes in Russian urban life in that period. The increased visibility of the Eurasianist movement with its aggressive nationalistic agenda in the last ten years adds to the novel's topicality.
Readers will find many provocative and serious reflections on such issues as exile, nostalgia, bilingualism, paranoia and conspiracy theories. The author, a chaired professor at Harvard University, uses no jargon to present her ideas, and the novel will claim both a general readership and an academic audience. Any one desiring to find a further development of the author's ideas should turn to her earlier non-fiction books, Death in Quotation Marks: Cultural Myths of the Modern Poet (1991), Common Places: Mythologies of Everyday Life in Russia (1994), and, in particular, The Future of Nostalgia (Basic Books 2001). Boym's observations on the political uses of utopian nostalgia are particularly shrewd, her novel will prompt you to read further about the Russian exile community and the new Russia, and the mystery will keep you alert to the end.


Peter G. Christensen

Dune provides a reasonably objective account of the October Revolution and the Civil War without embellishment or historical name-dropping (Lenin and Trotsky are hardly mentioned). The editors have done history a service by making his writing available in this format.

Dune provides a reasonably objective account of the October Revolution and the Civil War without embellishment or historical name-dropping (Lenin and Trotsky are hardly mentioned). The editors have done history a service by making his writing available in this format.

This book is amazing. It covers even the rarest soviet flyng concepts (such as the Ekranoplans). With tons of drawings and pictures, plus detailed data about the aircraft, Mr. Gunston has provided to us, aviation fans with a great book, showing us the golden era of the soviet aviation. All the prototypes and proposed designs are included.

Bill Gunston has gone to extreme lengths to write a book detailing the complete history of Russian aviation from well before the revolution to modern day. Broken down by design bureau, he details the history and specifications of every design made. Even prototype and un-built designs are covered. It provides a reference on aircraft which are almost impossible to find information on, from the 'KT' flying tank idea to some of the wildest jet amphibians. Well illustrated with detailed photos (many of which were previously unpublished) and three-way drawings, the book also includes annexes describing Russian engines, avionics, and their aircraft designation methods. Gunston makes use of recently released information to detail planes that were previously unknown in the West and enhance details on others. He also includes a special pre-revolution section detailing Imperial Russian aviation. This is a must-have for any Russian aviation enthusiast or anyone interested in aviation history in general.

This is the story of Hugh Koehler, scion of the St. Louis brewing family, and reputed illegitimate son of the crown prince of Austria. (Remember Mayerling.)
He grew up in society, attended Harvard, and then the US Naval Academy. Upon graduation he served in China, then in the Great War commanded a subchaser group based in Ireland.
He became noted for his incisive reporting and after the war, visited Germany, sat in on the peace conference, and then went via the Black Sea to Russia where he observed the fighting in South Russia during the Russian Civil War.
This period was the highlight of his life. He died at a comparatively young age in his fifties as did his father and grandfather before him.
Many of his reports on the situation in the Balkans read as if they were written ten years ago, not eighty, especially the conflict between Greeks and Turks.
Well written and well worth the reading. Belongs on the same shelf as the books by the British agents who operated in Central Asia during the same period.

This book follows an American Naval Officer on his assignment to observe the White Russian forces on the Crimean penninsula. Hugo Koehler arrives when Baron Vrangel is in charge and the war is winding down, but is not yet concluded. Interesting insight and observations are made; this book is a must for those with an interest in this part of Russian history.

In 1984, The Ecco Press published a handsome thirteen-volume edition of The Tales of Chekhov containing the highly respected, if somewhat dated, English translations of Constance Garnett. The original thirteen volumes were subsequently supplemented by two additional volumes, "The Unknown Chekhov: Stories and Other Writings," translated by Avrahm Yarmolinsky (a volume which is still in print under the auspices of another publisher) and "Notebook of Anton Chekhov," translated by S. S. Koteliansky and Leonard Woolf. While I was fortunate to have purchased the entire paperback set at a pittance during a remainder sale (and it remains one of the favorites of my book collection), it is, alas, sadly out-of-print.

"The Party & Other Stories," volume 4 of The Ecco Press edition, contains eleven stories written during the period from the mid-1880s to the mid-1890s. These are stories from Chekhov's so-called "middle period," the years after Chekhov had finished his medical studies and began writing and publishing the longer, more serious psychological studies whose characteristics became a universal ascription for short stories of that sort: "Chekhovian." As Harold Bloom has written, "the formal delicacy and somber reflectiveness [of Chekhov's stories] make him the indispensable artist of the unlived life, and the major influence upon all story-writers after him."

Every one of the stories in this volume is a remarkable example of Chekhov's ability to write in simple, straightforward fashion, while, all the time, illuminating with almost microscopic precision the internalized, psychological lives of his characters. As one commentary on Chehov's writing during this period has noted, apropos of the stories in this volume (and in contrast to Chekhov's early humorous stories): "Characters are no longer perceived satirically, as social archetypes, but seen from within. And the inner life revealed is often an unhappy one, the characters' `real life' being in sharp contrast with their `world of desire,' reached only through memory or fantasy."

The stories range from long to short, each a near-perfect model of the short story, worthy of enjoyment and careful study. The longest of the stories, "A Woman's Kingdom," tells of Anna Akimovna, the daughter of a factory owner who, as a young girl, mingled with the working classes, only to find herself the lonely, single, middle-aged heiress and proprietor of those same factories later in life. It is a remarkable exploration of Anna's loneliness and of her yearning to return to the life of her childhood, as well as of the separation between owner and worker in an industrialized Russia. As Anna says, longingly: "Yes, I'll go and get married. I will marry in the simplest, most ordinary way and be radiant with happiness. And, would you believe it, I will marry some plain working man, some mechanic or draughtsman."

In the title story, "The Party," Chekhov brilliantly probes the mind, the thoughts, the silent unhappiness and dissatisfaction of Olga Mihalovna, a pregnant, married woman who clearly does not like her philandering, brash husband or her social obligations. In a passage that strikingly illustrates both the luster of Chekhov's art and the deep-seated discontent of the character of his story, Olga stands watching her guests, the partygoers of the story's title, glide by in boats:

"Olga Mihalovna looked at the other boats, and there, too, she saw only uninteresting, queer creatures, affected or stupid people. She thought of all the people she knew in the district, and could not remember one person of whom one could say or think anything good. They all seemed to her mediocre, insipid, unintelligent, narrow, false, heartless; they all said what they did not think, and did what they did not want to. Dreariness and despair were stifling her; she longed to leave off smiling, to leap up and cry out, `I am sick of you,' and then jump out and swim to the bank."

These are just two of the stories. The volume also contains "The Kiss," a story that no less a literary arbiter than Bloom considers the best of Chekhov's early stories (written in 1887, when Chekhov was 27 years old). And the rest are equally good, demonstrating why Chekhov is considered among the greatest practitioners of the story-writer's art.

If you can, find this volume and the others in The Ecco Press's wonderful edition of Chekhov and read them all. If you can't, then find another edition. Just read Chekhov. You will not be disappointed.

...

"The Party & Other Stories," volume 4 of The Ecco Press edition, contains eleven stories written during the period from the mid-1880s to the mid-1890s. These are stories from Chekhov's so-called "middle period," the years after Chekhov had finished his medical studies and began writing and publishing the longer, more serious psychological studies whose characteristics became a universal ascription for short stories of that sort: "Chekhovian." As Harold Bloom has written, "the formal delicacy and somber reflectiveness [of Chekhov's stories] make him the indispensable artist of the unlived life, and the major influence upon all story-writers after him."

Every one of the stories in this volume is a remarkable example of Chekhov's ability to write in simple, straightforward fashion, while, all the time, illuminating with almost microscopic precision the internalized, psychological lives of his characters. As one commentary on Chehov's writing during this period has noted, apropos of the stories in this volume (and in contrast to Chekhov's early humorous stories): "Characters are no longer perceived satirically, as social archetypes, but seen from within. And the inner life revealed is often an unhappy one, the characters' 'real life' being in sharp contrast with their 'world of desire,' reached only through memory or fantasy."

The stories range from long to short, each a near-perfect model of the short story, worthy of enjoyment and careful study. The longest of the stories, "A Woman's Kingdom," tells of Anna Akimovna, the daughter of a factory owner who, as a young girl, mingled with the working classes, only to find herself the lonely, single, middle-aged heiress and proprietor of those same factories later in life. It is a remarkable exploration of Anna's loneliness and of her yearning to return to the life of her childhood, as well as of the separation between owner and worker in an industrialized Russia. As Anna says, longingly: "Yes, I'll go and get married. I will marry in the simplest, most ordinary way and be radiant with happiness. And, would you believe it, I will marry some plain working man, some mechanic or draughtsman."

In the title story, "The Party," Chekhov brilliantly probes the mind, the thoughts, the silent unhappiness and dissatisfaction of Olga Mihalovna, a pregnant, married woman who clearly does not like her philandering, brash husband or her social obligations. In a passage that strikingly illustrates both the luster of Chekhov's art and the deep-seated discontent of the character of his story, Olga stands watching her guests, the partygoers of the story's title, glide by in boats:

"Olga Mihalovna looked at the other boats, and there, too, she saw only uninteresting, queer creatures, affected or stupid people. She thought of all the people she knew in the district, and could not remember one person of whom one could say or think anything good. They all seemed to her mediocre, insipid, unintelligent, narrow, false, heartless; they all said what they did not think, and did what they did not want to. Dreariness and despair were stifling her; she longed to leave off smiling, to leap up and cry out, 'I am sick of you,' and then jump out and swim to the bank."

These are just two of the stories. The volume also contains "The Kiss," a story that no less a literary arbiter than Bloom considers the best of Chekhov's early stories (written in 1887, when Chekhov was 27 years old). And the rest are equally good, demonstrating why Chekhov is considered among the greatest practitioners of the story-writer's art.

If you can, find this volume and the others in The Ecco Press's wonderful edition of Chekhov and read them all. If you can't, then find another edition. Just read Chekhov. You will not be disappointed.

Advance Reviews

"Brilliant, subtle, and richly documented, Burds's study of how the village and urban worlds remade one another puts the study of the peasantry, of urbanization, and of industrialization in Russia on a wholly new footing. His eye for the telling details of social relations, consumption, reputation, and the principles of navigation between two worlds illuminates subject after subject." - James C. Scott, Yale University

"The book contributes in fundamental ways to the historical debate about Russian development before the revolution. . . . It is original, brilliantly researched, and fascinating reading." - Lynne Viola, University of Toronto

"This excellent book . . . makes an important contribution to the fields of peasant studies, Russian history, and historical anthropology in general. Burds' analysis is original, lucid and convincing. . . . A pleasure to read. His main argument is that the village community dealt with the threat of change by anthropomorphizing it. The village community responded to the threat of modernity by anathematizing the most vivid symbols of modernity: agents with contact with the outside world. And the peasant migrant workers embodied this contact in the eyes of villagers. . . . While most historians have long tended to focus on high politics, Burds' work presents a strikingly new view of Russia's `grand failure' from below. . . . Burds analyzes the `culture of denunciation' as a process of constructing the enemy other out of the new forces threatening traditional village relations." - Hiroaki Kuromiya, Indiana University

"Jeffrey Burds' excellent study of the distinctive patterns of entrepreneurial activity, market strategies, and a commodity culture among nineteenth-century Russian peasants can serve as an important `usable past' for post-Communist Russia, as it strives to find historical precedents and native roots for today's market reforms." - Brenda Meehan, University of Rochester

Published Reviews

"The strength of [Burds'] presentation is [his] rich, well-informed description of specific cases, often with long quotations from primary sources new to the literature, together with a complete command of the modern literature in peasant Russia." - James T. Flynne, College of the Holy Cross [Choice, November 1998]

"Using archival and published sources, Jeffrey Burds examines the impact of peasant migratory labor (otkhod) on villages of the Central Industrial Region. As he notes, this study is a "needed corrective" to previous treatments of otkhod which have been focused primarily on the impact of peasant migrations on urban development. Instead, Burds offers an interpretation of how familial and communal institutions incorporated increasing contact with town life and the market into their survival strategies during the onslaught of post-emancipation socioeconomic changes. Analysis begins by examining the threat of increasing otkhod in the village. Given krugovaia poruka (collective guarantee) the departure of entire families resulted in increased fiscal burdens for others. Futhermore, sons frequently found factory work easier and more rewarding than life on a farm. This threatened the ability of fathers to control sons and posed a challenge for communal elders seeking to extract urban earnings by binding migrants to the village. Finally, migrant laborers who returned to the village with changed tastes were potential sources of "moral corruption"--another threat to traditional social structures. Chapters 3, 4, and 7 discuss strategies communes and parents used to meet these challenges. A key strategy involved the control of passports. Otkhodniki remained responsible for assessments on their allotments. The commune ensured that it got some of this money up front as a "departure fee" before issuing of a passport, and often included a contract stipulating additional payments. Occassionally, communes arranged to have employers garnish otkhodnik wages. Communal and parental pressure to marry also served to tie otkhodniki to their rural roots, as did communal involvement in rural hiring. There were also legal options: refusal to issue another passport; threatened auction of property; and forcible recall to the village under police guard. Moral transgressions were checked by a "culture of denunciation"--the practice of labeling as "heretics" those migrants who seemed too attached to urban ways. To avoid any or all of these problems otkhodniki relied on "benefactors" (the maligned kulak) and the preservation of their village reputation. Migration, Burds notes, was a two-way street. Many migrants failed, and most became sensitized to fluctuations in the business cycle. Urban earnings could be just as uncertain as harvests. This helps explain why the majority of those with no allotment sent wages home. Maintaining a place in the village was a prudent hedge against an uncertain market. At the same time, urban contact encouraged a "culture of acquisition" in the village. This discussion constitutes the most original part of the book. The culture of acquisition meant not only new consumer tastes but also the gradual development of a café and shopping culture. As otkhod earnings invaded the village, the increased demand for goods led to the creation of fixed shops and taverns (which, through the sale of franchises, also provided a way for the commune to siphon urban earnings). The most significant consequence of this was not the fact that peasants now had a more convenient source of drink, but that they now interacted in a new way. The saloon became the center of village life, a source of news about a variety of topics, a place to make deals, and a place to show off new acquisitions. This infusion of otkhod earnings and newly acquired tastes created higher consumer expectations--an increase in the "break-even point" peasants used to evaluate their standard of living. Burds suggests that any "rural crisis" at the end of the last century must be assessed against this more dynamic conception of peasant needs. . . . . Burds's book is essential reading for all those with interests in the peasantry and economic development." --David Darrow, University of Dayton [The Russian Review, 1999]

"Jeffrey Burds's _Peasant Dreams and Market Politics_ is an original, insightful interpretive study of the Russian peasantry confronting new challenges and opportunities during the late-19th century. The book focuses on peasant outmigration in the Central Industrial Region (encompassing the 300 kilometers around Moscow) in the period between the abolition of serfdom (1861) and the first significant rebellions against the tsar (1905). This was a period when an expanding commodity economy provided new opportunities for migrant peasant workers to gain supplemental incomes to offset the redemption taxes that their families and villages were collectively obligated to pay in exchange for taking possession of land formerly owned by the gentry. But, peasant outmigration also brought with it new threats for the traditional Russian peasant commune, which had to guard against the permanent resettlement of productive individuals or whole families who could place the remainder of the commune members under greater economic hardship as they endeavored to meet their tax obligations. The commune's efforts to contain these threats, and the manner in which the commune and individual peasants adapted to changing opportunity structures and outside influences, represent the most original and illuminating features of this book. . . . This book is an extremely interesting, informative, and well-researched ideographic work by a skilled historian. It is based on 3 years of archival research and analysis of ethnographic material, ranging from police records and peasant memoirs to written agreements among peasant households and their communes. It is written in a language accessible to specialists as well as nonspecialists. For area specialists familiar with the story of industrialization and peasant outmigration in prerevolutionary Russia, this book will offer a needed corrective for some of the more simplified, conventional characterizations of Russian peasant behavior. Valuable insights also can be gained from Burds's original treatment of the significance of reputational concerns in village life and his analysis of how commune norms and practices were influenced by, and deployed to contain, an expanding commodity economy." - Rudra Sil, University of Pennsylvania