UC Berkeley UC Berkeley Electronic Theses and Dissertations Title Between Moscow and Baku: National Literatures at the 1934 Congress of Soviet Writers Permalink https://escholarship.org/uc/item/7hn6n6bq Author Schild, Kathryn Douglas Publication Date 2010 Peer reviewed|Thesis/dissertation eScholarship.org Powered by the California Digital Library University of California Between Moscow and Baku: National Literatures at the 1934 Congress of Soviet Writers by Kathryn Douglas Schild A dissertation submitted in partial satisfaction of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in Slavic Languages and Literatures in the Graduate Division of the University of California, Berkeley Committee in charge: Professor Harsha Ram, Chair Professor Irina Paperno Professor Yuri Slezkine Fall 2010 ABSTRACT Between Moscow and Baku: National Literatures at the 1934 Congress of Soviet Writers by Kathryn Douglas Schild Doctor of Philosophy in Slavic Languages and Literatures University of California, Berkeley Professor Harsha Ram, Chair The breakup of the Soviet Union in 1991 reminded many that “Soviet” and “Russian” were not synonymous, but this distinction continues to be overlooked when discussing Soviet literature. Like the Soviet Union, Soviet literature was a consciously multinational, multiethnic project. This dissertation approaches Soviet literature in its broadest sense – as a cultural field incorporating texts, institutions, theories, and practices such as writing, editing, reading, canonization, education, performance, and translation. It uses archival materials to analyze how Soviet literary institutions combined Russia’s literary heritage, the doctrine of socialist realism, and nationalities policy to conceptualize the national literatures, a term used to define the literatures of the non-Russian peripheries. It then explores how such conceptions functioned in practice in the early 1930s, in both Moscow and Baku, the capital of Soviet Azerbaijan. Although the debates over national literatures started well before the Revolution, this study focuses on 1932-34 as the period when they crystallized under the leadership of the Union of Soviet Writers. It examines how the vision of the First All-Union Congress of Soviet Writers grew during its planning process, so that the ultimate event in 1934 was a two-week performance celebrating Soviet literature as multinational. It then looks to the Azerbaijani delegation to that Congress as an example of how non-Russian nationalities interpreted and negotiated Moscow’s broad policies. Azerbaijan is a useful case study as it incorporates a changing national identity, a multilingual literary heritage, an ethnically diverse urban proletariat, the pan-Turkic movement, and issues of religious versus ethnic identity. 1 To Janice Strickland, the first person to delight in my words as much as I did. i TABLE OF CONTENTS Dedication i Acknowledgments iii Transliteration and Sources v Terms and Abbreviations vi 1. What Is Soviet Literature? 1 2. Preparing for the First All-Union Congress of Soviet Writers 34 3. National Literatures at the Congress 86 4. The Azerbaijani Delegation 131 Afterword 157 Bibliography 158 Appendix A. Speakers at the 1934 Congress of Soviet Writers 163 ii ACKNOWLEDGMENTS This work would not exist without the patient guidance of my committee: Harsha Ram, whose exciting scholarship and enthusiasm for this nascent project brought me to Berkeley; Irina Paperno, whose professional and personal advice are the stone tablets governing me in the desert; and Yuri Slezkine, whose questions cut to the heart of every project I have shown him. Their writings combine fierce intellect, verbal grace, detailed scholarship, and imaginative leaps. It has been emotionally difficult to write for the three people whose opinions matter most to me, but it has also been rewarding. I thank them for their forgiveness throughout the belabored process of determining how to balance their influence with my own voice. Jamaica Kincaid once described how everything she wrote was for one editor’s eyes. “For a very long time I had the perfect reader for what I would write.... The perfect reader has died, but I cannot see any reason not to write for him anyway, for I can sooner get used to never hearing from him – the perfect reader – than to not being able to write for him at all.” I suspect that I, too, will write my last work as my first – for their eyes, before all, and for their respect, above all. They are my perfect readers. The U.C. Berkeley Slavic department was a welcome home for many years, one whose halls reverberated with art, humor, theories, linguistic charts, camaraderie, electric ideas, and the occasional strange mode of transport. My professors encouraged independent exploration of my own path through Russian and Soviet literature. Acknowledging everyone who contributed to the ideas that eventually led to this dissertation would require a full department list for the last decade, but I can’t go without naming a few who were especially important: Viktor Markovich Zhivov, Eric Naiman, Olga Matich, Alan Timberlake, and Lisa Little. Their interest and support have been invaluable. Without my fellow students, however, I doubt I would have survived the process of transforming my ideas into arguments. They are my intellectual family. When we junior scholars complain – as workers in any field do – about the responsibilities and frustrations of the path we chose, I remind myself that the greatest compensation in academia is community. I am fortunate to work with interesting, intellectually generous, and talented people. Some of them even share my obsession with the Soviet periphery! I have presented aspects of this work at the California Slavic graduate colloquium, University of Washington graduate conference in comparative literature, AAASS, AATSEEL, and ACLA. Special thanks go to John Hope, Mary Childs, Polina Rikoun, and Naomi Caffee for listening to me ramble. On every occasion, the feedback and questions helped me refine my argument. The staff at the Moscow archives was helpful and fascinating, while my fellow researchers kept me entertained. A chance acquaintance led to another, who in turn introduced me to Chingiz Huseinov, a marvelous writer whose personal experiences animated many of the figures I only recognized from the page. Meeting him was a stroke of good fortune. My colleagues at Tulane University are no exception to this pattern. I owe Brian Horowitz and William Brumfield a great debt for their encouragement and faith in me. Stiliana Milkova and Renee Perelmutter were there for me from the very first day of graduate school, guiding me with fierce grace. Between the two of them, I have a role model for almost anything life throws at me. Mieka Erley and Cameron Wiggins showed up soon after to iii keep me on my toes. Their perspectives improved my work, but more importantly, their friendship continues to expand my world. I am fortunate indeed to know so many strong women. Outside of the department, Kamalika Chaudhuri, Klaudia Poiry, Alex Koppel, Zita Vasas, Karthik Balakrishnan, Adam Brin, and Joel Aufrecht were especially patient listeners throughout this process. I used photographs of Faith Hillis, Sabrina Rahman, and Andrea Dewees as an imaginary committee and tried to write so that that trio of scholars would find something of use in my work. My family has never faltered in its love and support. From my grandmother’s mad money to my uncle’s lunches to my nephew’s earnest phone messages, everyone has been there for me. While I suspect only sibling rivalry got my mother and her sister through so many of my draft pages, I loved having them as an audience. Mamica, you are my ocean. I find it hard to imagine school at any level without Monica showing me how to get through it with compassion and honesty. For that matter, I find it hard to imagine life at any level without Monica showing me how to get through it with compassion and honesty. Corina’s pragmatic approach to Soviet history provided several insights, and her humorous tolerance leaves me in awe. When it comes time to engineer a pop-up edition of this dissertation, it will probably be my brother Toby who does the calculations to ensure Gorky’s lectern doesn’t wobble, Iulian who organizes the tools, and Andreas who shreds the failed designs. They have kept me moving forward, instead of just in circles. On the map of my heart, all the streets have their names. In the spirit of my approach to literary history, I would like to thank some early influences who helped shape this path before I had a name for it. In roughly chronological order, that includes Sasha Sagan, Rodica Miron, Olga Peters Hasty, Donna Jones, Stathis Gourgouris, Thomas Keenan, Erika Gilson, Angela Miron, Michele Brown, and Ayla Algar. Janice Strickland, to whom this tome is dedicated, provided the first direct push. This time, the champagne is on me. iv TRANSLITERATION AND SOURCES I have kept quotes in the original languages as much as possible. Unless otherwise indicated, translations are my own. This work uses the Library of Congress transliteration system, except for names with conventional English spellings (such as Gorky) and some exceptions designed to make names more accessible to English readers. Where Russian names begin with the letter “ю” or “я,” I have transliterated them as “Yu...” and “Ya...,” instead of using an initial I, although I keep the Library of Congress “iu” and “ia” transliterations for those letters in the middle of words. I have also dropped an “i” from place names ending in “-ия,” like Tataria, although I have kept the double “ii” in personal names. Azerbaijani names have an informal transliteration, with the original in footnotes. Since Azerbaijani went through multiple alphabets, with different spelling conventions, I have stuck to post-Soviet sources in the Latin alphabet for quoting Azerbaijani texts. The bibliographic information uses the Library of Congress system without exception.