jueves, 25 de junio de 2015
lunes, 22 de junio de 2015
CHILDHOOD IN RUSSIAN LITERATURE: FROM TOLSTOY TO THE "QUEEN OF HORROR"
It is said that when Tolstoy sent, anonymously, his
first novel Childhood (1852) ― written
during the Caucasus War and under the influence of Rousseau, Dickens and Sterne
― to The Contemporary magazine, his
editor changed the title to History of
My Childhood and that this change greatly angered the Russian writer.
Later, Tolstoy recognized that his book indeed recounted his own experiences
and those lived by his relatives.
However
surprising, Tolstoy was in fact the first major Russian author to combine
autobiography with fiction in his depiction of his early years.
A long
list of writers of all styles, including Gorky, Belyi, Kataev, Bunin, Marina
Tsvetaeva and Nabokov, to name just a few, subsequently recalled and wrote about
their childhoods following Tolstoy's literary technique and his mythology of
childhood in their autobiographies.
The child
depicted by Tolstoy has much in common with the child described by Rousseau. Life
in the city leaves only negative images in the boy's consciousness. It is the
countryside that remains in his soul and thus his memories and memoirs. His
relation with nature plays an essential role in the idea that childhood innocence
is a paradise lost. "Happy,
happy unforgettable time of childhood! How can one not love, not cherish its
memories?" wrote Tolstoy.
Aleksey Peshok, the character of Maxim Gorky’s
‘My Childhood’ (1913-1914), the first part of an autobiographical trilogy,
doesn't live in a Tolstoyan paradise. His infancy is deeply troubled by a virulent
argument between the boy's uncles over their patrimony, the harsh beatings
meted out by his grandfather and the complex and difficult life of his own
mother, all elements in a brutalizing environment that might have destroyed the
boy's spirit had it not been for the influence of his grandmother, a
compassionate woman who cared for the unfortunate and had a great fondness for
folk-tales and literature generally.
During Stalin’s
reign, literature about childhood was used as a means to propagate socialism
and its ideals. One of the most accomplished prose writers of this era was Valentin
Kataev. In his writing, the narrative became epic and the transformation of the
fairy tale hero from immature child to adult is part of the process of
socialization and integration into the collective. Kataev’s ‘Son of the Regiment’ (1945), the
story of an orphan boy adopted by an artillery regiment during the war, was an
immense success, almost immediately made into a film.
Before
and later, other authors, like Bunin in The Life of Arseniev (1930) and
Nabokov in Speak Memory (1966), wrote about their childhood from exile. For
both, infancy belonged to a pre-Bolshevik chapter where they lived as
privileged children, a golden time stolen by the Russian Revolution of 1917. In
his autobiography, Nabokov recounts that he learned English before Russian. The
Nabokovs were an aristocratic Russian family with European tastes, keen on English
goods like Pears soap, Golden Syrup, bath salts and puzzles, products they
would buy at the famous English Shop on Nevsky Avenue in St. Petersburg where
they lived.
In our own times, Russian literature
about childhood has largely taken a new somber tone. In his hugely successful, autobiographical
‘Bury Me Behind the Baseboard’ (first published in a magazine in 1996, then in
book form in 2003, then filmed in 2009), Pavel Sanaev recounts the agonizing
years of terror of a boy wrested away from his mother and brought up by a
fierce tyrannical grandmother.
The
myth of childhood in Russian culture in the 21st century indeed has little
if anything to do with paradise or with politics, if we think, in addition, of the
terrifying images of fictional childhood portrayed by bestseller Anna
Starobinets in An Awkward Age (published
in 2005). For her – often dubbed the
‘Queen of Horror’ - Russian children, like many children in the world, live in
the hostile environment of big cities, in conflict with their parents, often
separated, and struggling for fictitious lands in which they can escape
reality. A far cry from Tolstoy indeed!
This article was published in RBTH http://rbth.com/arts/2015/06/01/from_tolstoy_to_the_queen_of_horror_childhood_in_russian_literature_46529.html