CC BY
88
Новый филологический вестник. 2015. №4(35).
R. Lapushin (Chapel Hill, NC, USA)
“LYRIC POETRY... UNDER SUSPICION”:
Vicissitudes of “Self-Expression” in the 1950s
Abstract: The essay traces the origins of the “poetic renaissance” of the Thaw, namely, the 1953-1954 discussion on lyric poetry and poetry’s reappearance in literary periodicals during that time. Initiated by Ol’ga Berggol’ts’s article “Conversation on Lyric Poetry,” the discussion revolved around such concepts as “self-expression,” lyrical persona, and poetry’s right to express the whole spectrum of human emotions. The essay sheds light on the role that the discussion played during this period and its contributions to the development of “Soviet interiority” at large.
Key words: “self-expression”; lyric poetry; lyrical persona; interiority; the Thaw; Socialist realism.
Р. Лапушин
(Чапел-Хилл, Северная Каролина, США)
«ЛИРИКА... ПОД СОМНЕНИЕМ»: превратности «самовыражения» в 1950-е гг.
Аннотация: Статья обращается к истокам «поэтического ренессанса» эпохи оттепели, прежде всего, к дискуссии по поводу лирической поэзии 1953-1954 гг. и одновременному возвращению этой поэзии на страницы периодических изданий. Начатая статьей Ольги Берггольц «Разговор о лирике», дискуссия разворачивалась вокруг таких понятий, как «самовыражение», лирический герой и право поэзии на выражение всего спектра человеческих эмоций. Статья проливает свет на важность этой дискуссии в контексте времени и на то, как она способствовала развитию «советской интернальности».
Ключевые слова: «самовыражение»; лирика; лирический герой; интерналь-ность; оттепель; социалистический реализм.
On April 16, 1953, less than two months after Stalin’s death, the article “Conversation on Lyric Poetry” was published in the newspaper Literaturnaya gazeta, the official organ of the Union of Soviet Writers. Its author was Ol’ga Berggol’ts, the poet whose tireless work as a poetic chronicler and radio broadcaster during the siege of Leningrad had made her the acknowledged voice of this city’s suffering and courage. A major concept her article introduced was that of “self-expression” (samovyrazhenie). “Lyrical poets’ special responsibility,” Berggol’ts declared, “is, first of all, to their ‘lyrical persona,’ more precisely, to their personality, its, so to speak, self-expression, which must become the self-expression of the reader”1. (First published in Literaturnaya gazeta, 16 April 1953. Further Bergol’ts’s articles cited by specified source with page numbers in parentheses.) The freshness of this concept (note the author’s
84
own uncertainty and hesitation in her introduction of this term, “so to speak, self-expression”) can be appreciated only in the overall context of the post-war literature and culture.
In Marc Slonim’s famous description, “[t]he landscape of Russian literature between 1945 and 1953 looked like a monotonous plain, with just a few low hills emerging from gray overcast skies”2. The situation with lyric poetry was especially bleak3. After its recuperation during the times of the Great Patriotic War, Socialist Realism’s “least developed genre”4 was almost eradicated from open print. Berggol’ts’s term, self-expression, can explain why. Self-expression is at the core of lyric poetry, which is “constituted by the necessary presence of the lyrical T-image”5. In Socialist Realist poetry, on the other hand, as Valeriy Tyupa points out in his theoretical discussion of this cultural phenomenon, true individuality is “superfluous”6; thus, one deals here with the “reduction”7 or even “de-actualization of the lyrical ‘I’”8 and, consequently, the de-actualization of lyric poetry as such. Any manifestation of the lyrical “I” (self-expression), no matter how apolitical and innocent it might seem, could be viewed as ideologically foreign and, subsequently, labeled as “decadent,” “degrading,” “bourgeois,” and so on. One should not forget that by the time of Berggol’ts’s article’s publication, the prevailing ideological context was still shaped by the language of the resolution of the TsK VKP (b) Orgburo on the journals Zvezda and Leningrad (August 1946) and Zhdanov’s speech, a language absorbed by the literary criticism of the era and reproduced in various periodicals over and over again.
In 1953, Berggol’ts could not challenge this ideological mindset openly. Nevertheless, not only her statements but the very emotional (self-expressional!) tone and rather unpolished, “raw” language of her article were in striking contrast to Zhdanov’s pronouncements: “[M]any of our lyrical works do not have that which is most important: humanity, human beings. That is, they have human beings, and even human beings of different professions: bulldozer drivers, shovel operators, and gardeners are depicted, and even masterfully depicted, but they are depicted from the outside, and our poems do not have that which is most important: there is no lyrical persona, the poet’s personal attitude toward an event, landscape...” (369-370).
Berggol’ts’s criticism of “production” poetry’s excesses was the least subversive part of her argument. Moreover, this criticism was already quite common. However, what Berggol’ts offers as an alternative to the ubiquitous descriptions of the production processes in poetry is not a shift to “living people with a biography, appearance, and the defined features of a character,” as one of the critics suggested at the time9 but the poet’s inner “I” and “personal attitude” embodied in his or her lyrical persona. According to Berggol’ts, though, these concepts are not yet in evidence; they have yet to be discovered by lyric poetry. “I looked through the four major thick journals for the whole of 1952,” Berggol’ts writes, “and with the exception of one poem by <.> Shchipachev, I could not find a single lyric work about love, in which the poet spoke about love in the first person (ot sebya)” (376).
85
Новый филологический вестник. 2015. №4(35).
The part of the article devoted to the situation with love poetry (what could be a better outlet for self-expression!) is especially eloquent. The statement that “nearly the only poet writing about love is Shchipachev” (375) sounds almost comic and is in itself compelling evidence of the state of lyric poetry. Berggol’ts criticizes “nearly the only poet” for his “excessive rationality and dispassionateness”, mentioning, in particular, his famous poem of 1939, “Learn how to value love” (376). Meanwhile, Berggol’ts’s disagreement with Shchipachev goes deeper than his “excessive rationality”:
“Shchipachev has his theme, this is the theme of a happy, stable, and mutual love, and no one has the right to force a different theme on him; but still, this is only one theme, though a very large one; it cannot exhaust all the diversity of human feelings, all the complexity, and, at times, even the dramatic character of human relations, when a person struggles both with himself and for love of another person, experiences not only joy but also grief, meets disappointments, finds the spiritual strength to overcome them <...>.
Where are these other intonations? Where is diverse love lyric poetry?” (376).
By pointing at the dramatic character of human relations, Berggol’ts questions an important tenet of Socialist Realism: that of literature’s obligatory optimism. In her article, she steps forward to challenge “hypocritical critics” who “cry out against ‘pessimism and decadence’ if they discover the poet’s meditation or, God forbid, sadness in a poem” (370). Following in Berggol’ts’s footsteps, another Leningrad writer, Vissarion Sayanov, engages in a dispute with “some ‘devotees’ of cliche-ridden lyric poetry [who] seriously assume that lyric poetry must be rousing, that to be sad in a lyric poem is forbidden, and to ‘shed a tear’ is completely unacceptable”10.
Moreover, Shchipachev’s own article published in Pravda in advance of the Second Congress of Soviet Writers in September of 1954, indicates that some of Berggol’ts’s points had become by then a part of the official outlook on the state of poetry. In the midst of the overall rosy picture, there is a statement of the “noticeable decline in poetry” during the post-war period and criticism of this poetry’s thematic “narrowness”. Shchipachev goes so far as to confront the critics who demand “that in every poem about love or nature there must be present a political or production moment”. Furthermore, the article seems to include Shchipachev’s personal response to Berggol’ts’s criticism. As if echoing her passionate questions (“Where are these other intonations? Where is diverse love lyric poetry?”), he comes up with his own: “Isn’t there too much austerity in our poetry? Don’t our readers consider some of us cold fish?”11.
The readers’ unsatisfied needs and unfulfilled expectations with respect to poetry were also addressed by Konstantin Simonov in his article “Man in Poetry”: “[W]e [the poets] do not develop dozens of necessary topics, do not answer the questions of new people in a new society - including the youth - about what they are to do about friendship, love, jealousy, unfaithfulness, anguish, unhappy and unrequited feeling”12.
86
Taken at face value, this passage is an eloquent statement of the society’s infantilism and helplessness in such personal matters as “love,” “jealousy”, “unrequited feeling”, and so on. The irony is that the poets who are expected to enlighten their audience about these matters are themselves frequently in need of reeducation.
The long-time “scorched earth policy” towards lyric poetry (and self-expression) explains the necessity of discovering and proving afresh even the most obvious, axiomatic truths: that the “production” or “political” moment is not required in every single poem; that it is only natural for a lyric poet to speak about his/her love in the first person; that the poet has the right to “meditate” and experience the whole spectrum of human emotions, including his/her right to be sad and “shed a tear”; that - to go beyond the realm of literature - personal relationships cannot but include dramatic moments and conflicts as long as grief and disappointment are inherent to human existence; and that, finally, one has to learn how to deal with these “degrading” emotions rather than deny their existence. The public pronouncement of these self-evident truths had a broad resonance. Consider, for example, the short exchange of correspondence between the wall-newspaper’s editor from the Department of Philology of Kharkov University, the student Yuriy Zhamoydo, and our Stepan Shchipachev, which was published under the telling title “Lyric Poetry...under Suspicion” in Literaturnaya gazeta in November 1954. Zhamoydo’s letter tells the story of how “by request of one of the school’s high-ranking comrades,” the lyrical poem “In the Summer,” by the first-year student Yasha Belikov, was banned from the newspaper. The high-ranking comrade had stigmatized the apparently innocent poem as being written “beyond time and space” and not showing what it talked about: “about our socialistic summer or some othef’. As a result, complains the editor, other young authors are now afraid of offering their poems to the student newspaper. The letter can serve as an anecdotal “Short Course” on the history of lyric poetry under Stalin. But it is also a manifestation of the ongoing changes and confusion they bring: the previously clear borderline between what is allowed and what is not becomes blurred. Inspired by Shchipachev’s article in Pravda (first of all, by his aforementioned point on the “production” moment), the Kharkov student Yuriy Zhamoydo dares to question the local authority. Shchipachev’s short answer is encouraging: it is sympathetic toward lyric poetry and critical of the “high-ranking comrade”13.
Berggol’ts’s article was one of the first landmarks on the still uncertain path to the revival of lyric poetry. At the same time, as I have demonstrated, this article was an expression of the wide-spread dissatisfaction with the state and status of Socialist Realism’s “least developed genre”, a dissatisfaction shared by many critics, readers, and poets themselves, including such establishment figures as Shchipachev. “Lyric poetry has been almost entirely driven out from poetry”, complained another conventional poet, Lev Oshanin, at the extended session of the Presidium of the Union of Soviet Writers dedicated to the situation in contemporary poetry, which took place on January 5-6, 1954. The fact that this concern was articulated in public and then reproduced in the report on the pages of Literaturnaya gazeta was yet another sign of the times14. So was the diversity of voices that were heard at this session, from the devoted Stalinist (and
87
Новый филологический вестник. 2015. №4(35).
a zealous ex-fighter against “rootless cosmopolitans”) poet Nikolai Gribachev to the future author of “Babiy Yar” (1961) and “The Heirs of Stalin” (1962), the “young poet,” as he is described in this report, Evgeniy Evtushenko. Importantly, among speakers, there were those whose articles would enter the discussion on poetry in Literaturnaya gazeta later that year (apart from Literaturnaya gazeta, its primary carrier, the discussion would spread to other periodicals, primarily thick literary journals): such poets as Nikolay Aseev, Il’ya Sel’vinskiy, Pavel Antokol’skiy and, on the other hand, such combative opponents of selfexpression as Gribachev and the critic Boris Solovyev.
In one of these articles, published soon after the session, its author, Anatoliy Tarasenkov, further emphasizes the changes that were occurring: “After a long stagnation, after a longstanding lyrical drought, the young poets begin to try their hand at lyric poetry.”15 Peppered with such strong characterizations (“a long stagnation,” “a longstanding lyrical drought”), the language of the ever-conformist Soviet critic sounds even more uncompromising than that of the emigre Marc Slonim who, as we remember, compared the post-war literary landscape to a “monotonous plain”.
Shortly after the publication of Berggol’ts’s article, on May Day of 1953, Literaturnaya gazeta carried a selection of lyrical poems under the title “The Spring Mood” (Vesennee). Placed on the newspaper’s front page, the selection brought together six different poets, including the aforementioned antagonists, Gribachev and Evtushenko. Though not formally a part of the discussion on poetry and self-expression, the publication participated in this discussion indirectly: firstly, by the very fact of its appearance in the newspaper, and secondly, by offering some arguments in a rhymed form. Consider, for example, the opening of Veronika Tushnova’s poem:
К ночи грязь на дорогах звонка и тверда.
Небо - сине-зеленое, точно вода. В небе плавает месяц, подобно блесне...
Я давно не писала стихи о весне! Не писала стихов о себе, о тебе, О разлуках, о встречах, о нашей судьбе . 16
By the night, the mud on the roads is ringing and firm.
The sky is blue-green like water.
The crescent moon is sailing in the sky like a fishing lure.
It’s been so long since I’ve written poetry about spring!
Since I’ve written poetry about myself, about you,
About separations, encounters, about our fate.
This metapoetic opening is revealing of the poet’s long-suppressed desire for self-expression and exploration of personal topics (separations, encounters, “I”, “you”, “our fate”), a desire that could finally be released. The poem’s exultant tone is a palpable manifestation of the joy this release brings. The winter of the poet’s alienation from her own lyrical persona is over; the spring revitalizes
88
personal topics and breathes life into the poet’s lyrical “I”.
Deviations from the Socialist Realist canon, no matter how timid and barely traceable they might seem, are significant in representing the very first steps the era’s mainstream poets (along with their readers) were taking in the direction of self-expression. The readers’ approval of this “human” poetry is demonstrated by the letter published under the title “Lyrical Poems on the Pages of the Newspaper” in Zvezda: “[I]t is nice to note”, writes its author, T. Dad’yanova “that selections of lyric poetry have begun to appear in Literaturnaya gazeta”. In particular, Dad’yanova praises Oshanin’s “The Daughter” for its “sincerity” and “simplicity”: “The poem is saturated with a light sadness, yet its lines breathe with such purity and freshness!”14 Of course, one could appreciate this “freshness” only in the context of the “longstanding lyrical drought” (Tarasenkov). The value of the poems published under the title “The Spring Mood” lies, first and foremost, in the fact of where and when they appeared. According to Sergey Chuprinin, a critic of the next generation, this “publication of poems about love on the front (!) page of the May Day issue of Literaturnaya gazeta was perceived by our older contemporaries as one of the initial signals for change; it turned out - and this discovery was equal to the shock - that ‘International Workers’ Day’ could also be celebrated this way: by lyric poetry rather than pompous odes and thunderous marches”15. For the purposes of this essay, what is at stake is that this “signal for change” was sent in the form of lyric poetry.
While the lyrical poems published in Literaturnaya gazeta contained a homeopathic dosage of self-expression, the “instructional literary criticism” (Berggol’ts), was careful to trace more explicit deviations from the Socialist Realist orthodoxy. The April issue of Znamya (1954) included Boris Pasternak’s cycle, “Poems from the Novel in Prose Doctor Zhivago”. This publication, Pasternak’s first appearance in print as an original poet since 1945, was itself a palpable sign of the changes. To appreciate the stylistic and thematic novelty of Pasternak’s poetry, it is instructive to compare it with other poetic works published in the same issue of the journal. Consider, for example, the first and last stanzas of Viktor Urin’s poem “We remember well...”:
There was a quantum leap for the reader to make while simply turning pages from this work to any of Pasternak’s ten poems. Meanwhile, Urin’s, not Pasternak’s, was a typical journal poem of the time. It is suggestive that in the article published in Pravda soon after Pasternak’s poems appeared in Znamya, Vladimir Ermilov, one of the most fervent proponents of party-mindedness (partiynost ’) in literature, responded with a harsh criticism of this cycle, in particular the last two stanzas of the poem “The Wedding”:
89
Новый филологический вестник. 2015. №4(35).
Жизнь ведь тоже только миг, Только растворенье Нас самих во всех других Как бы им в даренье.
Только свадьба, вглубь окон Рвущаяся снизу,
Только песня, только сон, Только голубь сизый .20
Life itself is also only an instant,
Only dissolving Of ourselves in all others,
As if bestowing a gift on them.
Only a wedding tearing into the windows From below,
Only a song, only a dream,
Only a grey-blue dove.
“The subjective art always tried to prove that life is ‘only an instant’ ‘only a dream’,” Ermilov comments on these stanzas, “and that therefore it is absurd to strive for its improvement and waste energy on the fight for the better future of the Motherland and mankind”21. Subjectivism, of which Ermilov accuses Pasternak, is synonymous with Berggol’ts’s “self-expression”. As part of the discussion on poetry in Literaturnaya gazeta, Ermilov’s criticism of Pasternak was picked up by the critic V. Nazarenko who denounced even those of Pasternak’s poems in which “there seemed to be nothing but pictures of nature and love sensations”, for he finds in them their author’s “conviction in the aimlessness and meaninglessness of life”. The article concludes thus: “There is no separate ‘purely artistic’ criterion for the evaluation of poetic mastery. The criterion of ideological commitment and party-mindedness is also an artistic criterion”22. As this “Zhdanovist” conclusion indicates, the process of lyric poetry’s revival was anything but consistent and predictable.
It is telling that the attacks on lyric poetry were focused on the concept of “self-expression.” Joining the discussion on lyric poetry, in their article, Nikolay Gribachev and Sergey Smirnov called the “petty problem” (problemka) of self-expression a “sister” of the “petty problem” of “sincerity” in a reference to Vladimir Pomerantsev’s article “On Sincerity in Literature” (Novyy mir, 1953, no. 12), already a subject of a wide-spread campaign of harassment23. In tying self-expression and sincerity together, the critic Iosif Grinberg was even more eloquent: “The remnants of the long-shattered and only slightly renovated decadent theories are taken out again from the darkest and stuffiest corners. Here there are demagogic outcries about ‘sincerity,’ and a totally idealistic concept of self-expression”24. For Berggol’ts’s opponents, it was a tactically unbeatable move to bring these two concepts together: simply by association with sincerity, self-expression was apparently doomed to share the fate of its “sister”.
“It was precisely the word ‘self-expression’ with which Berggol’ts brought a torrent of vituperation on herself’, Vladimir Ognev, then a poetry editor and coordinator of the discussion in Literaturnaya gazeta, recollects in his memoirs25. Berggol’ts responded to this “torrent” with a new article published on October 28, 1954, in Literaturnaya gazeta, which was a further struggle for the necessity of self-expression: “Against the Liquidation of Lyric Poetry”.
One can only speculate why the fate of self-expression was not as dramatic as that of its “sister.” Perhaps the reason lay in lyric poetry’s marginal status in the overall system of genres (Pomerantsev, on the other hand, mostly focused
90
on prose) and its still “embryonic” state. It is likely that a personal factor also played a role, meaning Berggol’ts’s indisputable moral authority and credentials: the “theoreticians did not dare to excommunicate the ‘Sufferer of the Siege’ from Soviet literature”, as Lev Anninskiy recently put it26. In any case, it was fortunate for the concept of self-expression that its primary public advocate, the ever-loyal admirer of Akhmatova and Pasternak and a genuine poet herself, was also an unquestionably Soviet writer despite her having suffered greatly as a prisoner in 1938-1939.
In this context, one should clearly see the inherent limitations that Berggol’ts and her followers impose on self-expression. When in the recent collection of Berggol’ts’s selected works, her “Conversation on Lyric Poetry” is described as written “in defense of the traditions of Russian lyric poetry based on the personal and individual worldview”27, it is only part of the truth. Yes, Berggol’ts mocks those “comrade poets” who are spooked by the word “personality”, but she is also careful to distinguish between “individuality” and bourgeois “individualism” (372), which, it would be safe to assume, was not only a ritualistic gesture of compliance. “There is no need to prove”, Berggol’ts writes in her “Conversation on Lyric Poetry, “that our readers will pronounce the poet’s ‘I’ as their own ‘I’ and make the poet’s spiritual condition their own only in the case that the poet expresses and formulates <...> the primary, best, leading emotions of the epoch, and lives by the same things that the people live by, that is, expresses feelings which are close and dear to the people, typical feelings” (368). Answering her critics in the second piece, Berggol’ts reminds them with passion that what she meant by self-expression was “not any self-expression but the responsibility of the Soviet poet-activist for such a self-expression which must become the reader’s, that is, the people’s own self-expression” (381).
This is not to undermine the groundbreaking character of this concept. In their own way, its critics were justified and even prescient in turning a deaf ear to their opponents’ self-imposed limitations and “pledges of allegiance” to Party and the Soviet people. On some intuitive level, these critics could not but sense the concept’s subversive potential lying in the inherent contradiction between self-expression and ideological dogma, self-expression and subordination, selfexpression and expression of only “typical” feelings.
Most importantly, the revitalization of the lyrical persona, that is, the reactualization of the lyrical “I” (self-expression), transcended the realm of literature. Defense of the “rights of the Soviet poet’s personality”, as Berggol’ts, would have it, was also the defense of the rights of the inner world as such. In shifting the focus from supra-personal values (Party, the state, the people) to the individual “I”, lyric poetry recognized the latter as a reliable referential framework and perceptive instrument for the comprehension of the world. Correspondingly, by rediscovering poetry based on self-expression, its readers rediscovered the value and complexity of their own inner selves; in learning this poetry by heart, they learned afresh the language of interiority - specifically, new Soviet interiority, which would soon find its full expression in the poetry of the Thaw.
91
Новый филологический вестник. 2015. №4(35).
NOTES
1 Берггольц О.Ф. Собрание сочинений: в 3 т. Т 2. Л., 1989. С. 367.
2 Slonim M. Soviet Russian Literature. Writers and Problems: 1917-1977. 2d ed. New York, 1977. P. 319.
3 Clark K. The Soviet Novel: History as Ritual. 3d ed. Bloomington, IN, 2000. P. 191-209.
4 ЧудаковаМ.О. Возвращение лирики: Булат Окуджава //Чудакова М.О. Новые работы: 2003-2006. М., 2007. С. 62-108.
5 Смирнов И.П. Психодиахронологика: психоистория русской литературы от романтизма до наших дней. М., 1994. С. 250.
6 Тюпа В.И. Литература и ментальность. М., 2009. С. 160.
7 Тюпа В.И. Литература и ментальность. М., 2009. С. 155.
8 Тюпа В.И. Литература и ментальность. М., 2009. С. 172.
9 Амстердам А. Бесцветные стихи //Звезда. 1953. № 10. С. 186.
10 Саянов В. Сила слова // Знамя. 1954. № 1. С. 164
11 Щипачев С. Поэзии - могучие крылья! // Правда. 1954. 19 сентября.
12 Симонов К. Человек в поэзии // Литературная газета. 1954. 4 ноября.
13 Лирика... под сомнением // Литературная газета. 1954. 2 ноября.
14 Итоги поэтического года // Литературная газета. 1954. 12 января.
15 Тарасенков Ан. О поэтическом образе // Литературная газета. 1954. 26 января.
16 Тушнова В. Счастье // Литературная газета. 1953. 1 мая.
17 Дадьянова Т. Лирические стихи на страницах газеты // Звезда. 1953. № 10. С. 189.
18 Чупринин С. Оттепель: Время больших ожиданий // Оттепель. 1953-1956: страницы русской советской литературы. M., 1989. С. 12.
19 Урин В. Твердо помним... // Знамя. 1954. № 4. С. 7.
20 Пастернак Б. Стихи из романа в прозе «Доктор Живаго» // Знамя. 1954. № 4. С. 95.
21 Ермилов В. За социалистический реализм // Правда. 1954. 3 июня.
22 Назаренко В. Идейность поэтического образа // Литературная газета. 1954. 27 июля.
23 Грибачев Н., Смирнов С. Виолончелист получил канифоль // Литературная газета. 1954. 21 октября.
24 Гринберг И. Оружие лирики // Знамя. 1954. № 8. С. 171.
25 Огнев В.Ф. Фигуры уходящей эпохи. M., 2008. С. 343.
26 Аннинский Л.А. Красный век: эпоха и ее поэты: в 2 т. T. 2. M., 2009. С. 157.
27 Ольга. Запретный дневник: дневники, письма, проза, избранные стихотворения и поэмы Ольги Берггольц. СПб., 2010. С. 22.
92
References
(Articles from Proceedings and Collections of Research Papers)
1. Chudakova M.O. Vozvrashchenie liriki: Bulat Okudzhava [The Return of Lyric Poetry: Bulat Okudzhava]. Chudakova M.O. Novye raboty: 2003-2006 [New Works: 2003-2006]. Moscow, 2007, pp. 62-108.
2. Chuprinin S. Ottepel: vremia bolshikh ozhidaniy [The Thaw: The Time of Great Expectations]. Ottepel. 1953-1956: Stranitsy russkoi sovetskoy literatury [The Thaw, 1953-1956: The Pages of Russian Soviet Literature]. Moscow, 1989, p. 12.
(Monographs)
3. Slonim M. Soviet Russian Literature. Writers and Problems: 1917-1977. 2d ed. New York, 1977, p. 319.
4. Clark K. The Soviet Novel: History as Ritual. 3d ed. Bloomington, IN, 2000, pp. 191-209.
5. Smirnov I.P. Psikhodiakhronologika: psikhoistoriya russkoy literatury ot romantizma do nashikh dney [Psychodiachronology: Psychohistory of Russian Literature from Romanticism to Our Days]. Moscow, 1994, p. 250.
6. Tjupa V.I. Literatura i mentalnost [Literature and Mentality]. Moscow, 2009,
p. 160.
7. Tjupa V.I. Literatura i mentalnost [Literature and Mentality]. Moscow, 2009, p. 155.
8. Tjupa VT Literatura i mentalnost [Literature and Mentality]. Moscow, 2009, p. 172.
9. Ognev VF. Figury ukhodyashchey epokhi [The Figures of the Passing Epoch]. Moscow, 2008, p. 343.
10. Anninskiy L.A. Krasnyy vek: epokha i ee poety: v 2 t. T. 2 [The Red Age: The Epoch and Its Poets: in 2 vols. Vol. 2]. Moscow, 2009, p. 157.
Радислав Лапушин - кандидат филологических наук, PhD., профессор кафедры германских и славянских языков и литератур в университете Северной Каролины в Чапел-Хилл (США).
Круг научных интересов: Чехов, поэтика прозы, русская литература в кино и на сцене, русская поэзия советского периода.
E-mail: lapushin@email.unc.edu
Radislav Lapushin - Candidate of Philology and Ph.D., associate professor at the Department of Germanic and Slavic Languages, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill (USA).
Research interests: Chekhov, the poetics of prose, Russian literature on stage and screen, Russian Soviet poetry
E-mail: lapushin@email.unc.edu
93
