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F. M. DOSTOEVSKn’S DIALOGUE WITH TIME OF TROUBLES NARRATIVES: READING THE RUSSO-POLISH TENSIONS OF THE I860S THROUGH THE LENS OF HISTORY

DISSERTATION

Presented in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for

the Degree Doctor of Philosophy in the Graduate

School of The Ohio State University

By

Elizabeth Ann Blake, M.A.

*****

The Ohio State University 2001

Dissertation Committee: Approyed^y Professor George Kalbouss, Adviser <7

Professor Irene Masing-Delic Adviser Professor Yana Hashamova The Department of Slavic and East European Languages and Literatures UMI Number. 3031171

Copyright 2001 by Blake, Elizabeth Ann

All rights reserved.

UMI*

UMI Microform 3031171 Copyright 2002 by Bell & Howell Information and Learning Company. All rights reserved. This microform edition is protected against unauthorized copying under Title 17, United States Code.

Bell & Howell Information and Learning Company 300 North Zeeb Road P.O. Box 1346 Ann Arbor, Ml 48106-1346 Copyright by Elizabeth Ann Blake 2001 ABSTRACT

This dissertation traces F. M. Dostoevskii’s fascination with the seventeenth- century Russian political crisis known as the Time of Troubles. This historical

Russo-Polish conflict became a popular period for excavation by various nineteenth- century historians and dramatists after the Polish Uprising of 1863, when increasingly strained relations between Poland and Russia encouraged many Russian litterateurs to explore the history of these two Slavic nations. Dostoevskii’s own recognition of the connection between these two historical periods of Russo-Polish conflict is repeatedly demonstrated in his fiction, journalistic writings, and editorial work throughout the

1860s and the 1870s.

Although Dostoevskii had long been interested in the Time of Troubles, as evidenced by his early non-extant drama Bopuc Fodynoe in imitation of A. S.

Pushkin’s Bopuc Fodynoe (Boris Godunov), after the 1863 Uprising this historical period occupies a more central role in his literary discourse. In the 1860s.

Dostoevskii began to associate narratives about this seventeenth-century conflict with the Russo-Polish tensions of his contemporary period, as is suggested by his decision to publish N. A. Chaev’s nationalistic drama. JJuMumpuH CaMoseaneit (Dimitrii the

a Fretender), as part of the antf-FoITsh campaign o fJnoxa (Epoch). Then m Becu

(The Devils), Dostoevskii’s linking of nineteenth-century Russian political conspirators to the Polish-sponsored pretendership of the seventeenth century serves to highlight the Polish connections of his contemporary revolutionaries, connections which promote the de-stabilization of Russia. This association becomes even more pronounced in his final novel, Bpambsi KapaMaaoeu (The Brothers Karamazov), when Dostoevskii maintains a dialogue with two nineteenth-century Time of Troubles narratives— Fhishkin’s Bopuc Fodynoe and M. N. Zagoskin’s lOpuü MuAocAaecmu

(lurii Mlloslavskii)—in an effort to show that the Poles’ historic animosity toward

Russia necessarily precludes them from participating in a Russian-led panslav union.

Thus, the presence of narratives about the Time of Troubles in Dostoevskii’s oeuvre may be read as his attempt to comment upon a politically-explosive topic of the

1860s—the relations between Russia and the Kingdom of Poland.

ui Dedicated to my grandfather

IV ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would first like to express my profound appreciation to my adviser, George

Kalbouss, for his guidance and encouragement throughout my graduate career. I also

wish to acknowledge the constant advice and support of my committee members,

Irene Masing-Delic and Yana Hashamova. I am further indebted to Angela

Brintlinger and Caryl Emerson for scholarly advice and editorial criticism that have

substantially contributed to this final draft of the dissertation.

My thanks to the Department of Slavic and East European Languages and

Literatures as well as the Center for Slavic and East European Studies at The Ohio

State University for years of support and guidance while this project came to fruition.

The American Council for Teachers of Russian, a Foreign Language and Area

Studies Fellowship from the Department of Education, and an International

Dissertation Research Travel Grant from The Ohio State University also supplied opportunities and funds for research. The library staffs at The Ohio State University,

Hilandar Research Library, the University of Illinois, the Pushkin House, the

Dostoevskii Museum in St. Petersburg, and Jagiellonian University provided invaluable research assistance. E. I. Lysenkova and B. N. Tikhomirov at Gertsen University in addition to Krzysztof Frysztacki, Lucjan Suchanek, and Andrzej Dudek at Jagiellonian University greatly facilitated my research in St. Petersburg and

Krakow with logistical and scholarly support.

Finally, 1 would like to thank my sisters, Ka and Mar-Mar, for their understanding as well as my husband Ruben for his unfailing support and for the many late nights he pored over the manuscript.

VI VITA

February 4, 1971 ...... Bom — Fairfax, Virginia

1992...... B.A., cum laude, Russian Studies and French, The College of William and Mary, Williamsburg, Virginia

1992...... C E E Russian Language Program, Gomyi Institute, St. Petersburg, Russia

199 5...... Summer Workshop in Russian, Indiana University, Bloomington, Indiana

199 6 M.A. Slavic Literatures and Linguistics, The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio

1996...... Summer Workshop in Polish, Indiana University Bloomington, Indiana

1999...... ACTR Research and Language Training Program, Herzen University, St. Petersburg, Russia

1999...... Summer Language Program in Polish, Catholic University of Lublin, Poland

2001...... Summer Research Laboratory, University of Illinois at Champaign-Urbana

1993-2001...... Foreign Language and Area Studies Fellow, Graduate Research and Teaching Associate, The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio

vu PUBLICATIONS

1. ‘Toward a Happy Marriage: Transcending Gendered Social Roles inAnna Karenina." Studies in Slavic Cultures 2 (February 2001).

2. “Petrograd in We the Living by Ayn Rand: A City on the Threshold of Red Russia.” In Russia and the USA: Forms of Literary Dialogue, edited by M. M. Odesskaia. Moscow: Russian State Humanities University, 2000.

3. Review of Coates, Ruth. Christianity in Bakhtin: God and the Exiled Author. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998. Slavic and East European Journal 44:3 (Fall 2000).

4. Review of Emerson, Caryl. The First Hundred Years of Mikhail Bakhtin. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1997. Canadian Slavonic Papers XLII: 4 (December 2000).

5. “Pushkin’s Knights: Heroes without a Code of Chivalry.” The Pushkin Collection, edited by Angela Brintlinger. Columbus: The Ohio State University, 1999.

FIELD OF STUDY

Major Field: Slavic and East European Languages and Literatures

vm TABLE OF CONTENTS

Pass Abstract...... ii

Dedication...... iv

Acknowledgments ...... v

Vita...... vii

Preface...... I

Chapters:

1. Introduction ...... 2

1.1 Dostoevskii’s Historical Dialogue With the Time of Troubles ...... 2 1.2 Dostoevskii and the Russian Historical Tradition ...... 3 1.3 CMymnoe epcMs in Nineteenth-Century Russia ...... 11 1.4 Dostoevskii and the Time of Troubles: An Overview ...... 29

2. Dostoevskii’s Early Historical Dialogues...... 33

2.1 Dostoevskii’s Initial Interest in the Time of Troubles ...... 33 2.2 Dostoevskii’s Romantic Roots...... 34 2.3 Dostoevskii’s Insistence on the Contemporary Relevance of Historical Narratives...... 47 2.4 Subverting the Historical in JJs o Hh u k...... 57

3. The 1860s: Dostoevskii’s Search for Narratives Promoting Russian National Consciousness ...... 71

IX 3.1 Historical Narratives and the Russian National Spirit...... 71 3.2 The Embedment of Dostoevskii’s Rejection of Europeanizing Elements in Russian Society in his Analysis of Time of Troubles Dramas ...... 75 3.3 Dostoevskii’s Anti-Polish Sentiment and Chaev’s JJiLHumpuu CoMoseanen...... 91 3.4 French and Polish Challengers to Rodion Raskol’nikov ...... 97

4. The Seventeenth-Century CMyma in Becu: A Russo-Polish Dimension to Dostoevskii’s Political Novel...... 106

4.1 Becu in the Tradition of Dostoevskii’s Historical Epics...... 106 4.2 Dostoevskii’s Exile and his Focus on the Polish Question 111 4.3 The Time of Troubles and the Polish Question in Becu...... 122

5. Polish Sovereignty and Russocentric Panslavism: A Reprisal of the Time of Troubles in Dostoevskii’s Final Novel ...... 143

5.1 Dostoevskii’s Criticism of Polish Resistance to Panslavism 143 5.2 Dostoevskii’s Discussion of Polish Participation in the Ultramontane Movement...... 149 5.3 Dmitrii Karamazov’s Encounter with a Historic Polish Threat 159 5.4 Zagoskin’s fOpuu MiLioc.iaecKuii and the Polish-Russian Controversy ...... 173

Conclusion ...... 190

Bibliography...... 196 PREFACE

For all of Dostoevskii’s writings, I will cite from the Soviet Academy edition,

F. M. Dostoevskii, fTo.iHoe coôpanue coHuneHiiü e mpudnamii moyiax

(JleHHHrpait: Hayxa, 1972-90). When referring to these editions, I will give only the volume and page number. The translations of primary and secondary texts, unless otherwise noted, are mine.

Polish names appear in their native forms, but Russian names are transliterated according to the System II (Library of Congress) transliteration system. Because there are various standard transliteration systems, alternative spellings may be encountered, e.g., Dostoevsky instead of Dostoevskii.

Finally, for format considerations, I have followed the guidelines outlined in the Modem Language Association Style Manual. CHAPTER 1

INTRODUCTION

1.1

Dostoevskii’s Historical Dialogue With the Time of Troubles

Dostoevskii’s frequent references to the Time of Troubles, ranging from his early non-extant historical drama, Bopuc Fodyme {Boris Godunov) written in the early 1840s to his final novel, Bpambsi KapaM03oeu {The Brothers Karamazov

[1878-80]), reveal his fascination with this historical period, which he characterizes in the August 1880 entry of /JneenuK nucame.m {Diary of a Writer) as a time “Korjta ejiMHCTBeHHo BceeflMHHiitMM ityxoM HapoitHbiM 6biJia cnacena Pocchh” (“when

Russia was saved solely by the all-unifying spirit of the people”; XXVI: 132).

Dostoevskii’s novels maintain a dialogue with various nineteenth-century histories, dramas, and novels about the Time of Troubles in order to focus on contemporary conflicts within the context of Russia’s past. As Dostoevskii investigates these contemporary conflicts in such novels as ripecmyn-tenue u uaKasauue {Crime and

Punishment), Becu {The Devils), and Bpambs KapoMa3oeu, he consistently links his contemporary political and moral crises with those that plagued Russia at the beginning of the seventeenth century. His references to nineteenth-century histories. dramas, and novels recounting the events of the Time of Troubles attempt to

demonstrate that the contemporary Russian history, which he encapsulates in narrative

form, represents a significant era in the progression of Russia’s historical

development.

My dissertation will demonstrate how Dostoevskii’s references to the Time of

Troubles throughout his oeuvre recount the seventeenth-century political crisis within

the context of Russia’s present conflicts with her Westem Slavic neighbor, the Polish

nation. When Russo-Polish tensions became further strained in the 1860s and 1870s,

Time of Troubles narratives became more central to his discourse as he established

more significant parallels between the seventeenth and nineteenth centuries. His decision to embody contemporary Russo-Polish conflicts (with references to their historical precedents) in his narratives reveals how he incorporated historical narratives into his poetic discourse in order to create a chronicle of Russia’s recent history. In this respect, he intended for his literature to gain cultural significance in the future as a document attesting to the evolution of the Russian spirit in the latter half of the nineteenth-century.

1.2

Dostoevskii and the Russian Historical Tradition

Analyses of F. M. Dostoevskii’s historical philosophy focus primarily on eschatological images present in his final writings, particularly in JjHeenuK nucameAsi. For example, Andrew Wachtei, noting Dostoevskii’s “obsessively violent

and jingoistic historical worldview” evidenced in both JJheenuK nucame.ts and

BpambH KapaMasosu, underscores the utopian nature of Dostoevskii’s historical

philosophy (128).' In order to understand Dostoevskii’s fascination with history in

the final years of his life, it is necessary to investigate his preoccupation with historical narratives over the course of his career, beginning with his first non-extant historical dramas, Mapua Cmioapm {Mary Stuart, in imitation of Friedrich Schiller’s

Maria Stuart) and Bopuc Fodyuoe (in imitation of A. S. Pushkin’s Bopuc rodynoe), dramas which demonstrate Dostoevskii’s early interest in historical genres.

Already in his childhood, Dostoevskii was exposed to historical monuments of

Russian Romanticism such as N. M. Karamzin’s ficmopua zocydapcmea poccuucKoeo {History of the Russian State), monuments in which historians employed the material of Russia’s historical past in an effort to orient their contemporary socio-political situation within the context of Russian history." In his

June 1, 1847 edition of flemepôypecKaa .lemonucb {The Petersburg Chronicle)

IWachtel’s monograph. An Obsession with History: Russian Writers Confront the Past, builds on Gary Saul Morson’s The Boundaries o f Genre: Dostoevsky’s Diarv o f a Writer and the Traditions of Literary Utopia in which Morson explores Dostoevsldi’s utopian understanding of history as it is detailed in the “intergeneric dialogue” characteristic of JJueeHUK nucame-in.

2For a summary of how Karamzin’s dedication likens Aleksandr I's victory over Napoleon to certain “historical parallels” from Russia’s past see Wachtel’s discussion of this present-oriented historiography (131). which was published in CoHKmnemepÔypecKue eedoMocmu (The St. Petersburg

Gazette), Dostoevskii already rejected the study of history for history’s sake:^

Mbi He cnopwM: HMxaKOM pyccKWM He MO«ex 6bixb paBHojtyiueH K McxopHH CBoero HjieMeHM, B KaKOM 6 bi BHae He npeacxaBJiBJiacb 3xa wcxopHsi; ho xpeSoBaxb, MxoSbi Bce saGbUiw n SpOCMJlM CBOK) COBpeMeHHOCXb aJlfl 0;tHMX nOHXeHHbIX npeflMexoB, MMeromwx anxMKBapHoe SHaneHwe, 5 biJio 6 w b BbicoHaiimeM cxeneHW HecnpaBeaJiMBO m nejieno (XVIII: 25-26).

We won’t argue: no Russian can be indifferent to the history of his tribe, regardless of the form in which this history is presented; but to demand that everyone forget and abandon the present for only venerable subjects having an antiquarian significance would be of the highest injustice and absurdity.

Here, Dostoevskii’s insistence on contemporary relevance as a prerequisite for historical investigation and rejection of the esoteric, or in his words “anxMKBapHoe”

(“antiquarian”), study of history leaves him open to accepting the Karamzinian tradition of gleaning Russia’s past for evidence of historical precedents with which to address Russia’s present-day political crises.

Friedrich Nietzsche’s analysis of three types of historical viewpoints

—monumental, antiquarian, and critical—in The Use and Abuse of History will prove useful in clarifying this present-oriented historiography. Like Dostoevskii,

Nietzsche criticizes the antiquarian historian for adopting a scientific historical-critical methodology “for it considers only that view of things to be true and right, and

3Although Dostoevskii wrote four feuilletons in 1847 for CaHKmnemepSypecKue aedo.Hocmu. these feuilletons were not recognized as Dostoevskii’s until the twentieth century because they were anonymously published. For their publication history, see V. S. Nechaeva’s explanation in PaHHuü JJocmoeecKuii: 1821-49 (192-208) as well as the summary provided in the Soviet Academy edition of Dostoevskii’s collected works (XVIII: 216-229). therefore scientific, which regards something as finished and historical" (70)/

Nietzsche also agrees with Dostoevskii that the study of history must consider the

importance of the present so that history may serve “life” and “action” rather than

pursue a sterile search for knowledge: “In his [Nietzsche’s] view, the study of history

ought never to be merely an end in itself but should always serve as a means to some

vital end or purpose” (White 332). However, whereas Nietzsche remains skeptical of

historical analyses, Dostoevskii promotes the use of Russian history to advance his

understanding of contemporary Russian culture. Nietzsche relies on the critical historian to release contemporary society from the burden of history, but Dostoevskii maintains a dialogue with Russian historical narratives throughout his lifetime in order to validate his conclusions about contemporary Russian society. In other words, he resembles Nietzsche’s monumental historian who studies great moments in his/her nation’s history in an effort to establish archetypal historical patterns that may be repeated both in his/her contemporary times and in the future: “What is the use to the modem man of this ‘monumental’ contemplation of the past, this preoccupation with the rare and classic? It is the knowledge that the great thing existed and was therefore possible, and so may be possible again" (14). Dostoevskii"s search for monumental historical events represents a continuation of the Russian scribal tradition from the eleventh, twelfth and thirteenth centuries. D. S. Likhachev describes the way in which scribes from this period adopted the monumental historical style

“^English translations of Nietzsche’s study are taken from Adrian Collins’s 1957 translation. The Use and Abuse o f History. whereby significant historical events are recorded within the context of historical

traditions drawn from the Bible as well as from Russian and Byzantine chronicles/

Although Dostoevskii perpetuates the historical tradition of these scribes by

identifying patterns in monumental events of Russian history, he, like Nietzsche’s

“modem man,” also tries to define these patterns in the historical present and even to

project them into the future. My study of the development of Dostoevskii’s

historiography will reveal how he remained a monumental historian throughout his

life by culling Russian historical narratives in order to situate Russia’s present and

her future within the progression of European history.

The names of the journals which Dostoevskii co-edited with his older brother

Mikhail— BpeM.n {Time) and 3noxa {Epoch )— suggest that Dostoevskii believed that

he was living through a monumental age for Russian history. Instead of following

the scientific method of historical investigation popular in European thought in the nineteenth centiuy,® Dostoevskii chose to enter into dialogue with literary narratives which, as he asserted, revealed his nation’s history better than a collection of historical data. In “Paa cxaTew o pyccKOW JiMTepaxype” (“A Series of Articles

About Russian Literature”) published in BpcMS in 1861, Dostoevskii explores the

5por a discussion of Likhachev’s understanding of monumental historical style in the chronicles, see A History of Russian Literature: Ilth-I7th Centuries (96-97).

6por a discussion of “the ‘scientistic’ orientation” of the European historical imagination of the nineteenth century, see Hayden White’s comparison of eigthteenth-and nineteenth-century historiography in the first chapter ofMetahistory: The Historical Imagination in Nineteenth-Century Europe (45-80). hermeneutic consequences for this formal choice when he discusses how literature

may embody various eras of Russian history. In the series’s fourth article

“Khmxhoctb M rpaMOTHOcTb: CxaxbH Bxopaa” (“Bookishness and Literacy: The

Second Article”). Dostoevskii clarifies that history does not represent a collection of

“Maxepwajibi, un({)pbi, 4)aKXbi" (“materials, statistics, and facts”) but an understanding of the development of “pyccKMÜ ayx, xapaxxep h ero

HanpaBjieHwe” (“the Russian spirit, character, and its tendencies”: XIX: 41). A few years later in 1864, Dostoevskii disclosed his own participation in this recording of

Russian history in a letter to his brother Mikhail: “He ôecnoKOMca, a snaio uxo cKaaaxb w aocxaxouHo aaxte cneuwajtMcx — He B McxopwM, a b pasBMXMM

HaiuMX H^teü McxopwuecKHX B JiMxepaxype, bo Bsrjinaax hbuimx wcxopwKOB

(rjiaBHewuiHx)” (“Don’t worry, I know what to say and am even rather a specialist—not in history, but in the development of our historical ideas in literature, through the eyes of our historians [the most important ones]”: XXVIIIii: 74-5). In this manner, Dostoevskii underscores the meta-literary implications for his fiction by emphasizing the historic nature of his aesthetics.

Although since his youth Dostoevskii was familiar with the genre of the

Russian historical novel of the 1830s which was revived in the 1860s by such historical novels as A. K. Tolstoi’s Knuab CepeÔpHHUü {Prince o f Outlaws) and

L. N. Tolstoi’s Boima u Mup {War and Peace), Dostoevskii developed his own innovative style of historical aesthetics.^ Dostoevskii further explicates this concept

of historical aesthetics when discussing Pushkin’s contributions to the development of

a Russian national consciousness in the second article in cTaxew o pyccKow

nuTeparype”:

ri03T0My-T0 OTMaCTM MbI H HUSblBaeM IlymKMHa BeJIMHaÜmMM HauMouaJibHbiM no3TOM (a b GyayuteM m napo^HbiM, b SyxBajtbHOM CMfaicjte cnosa), noTowy UMeuHO HaabiBaew, mto oh ecTb noJiHeiliuee Bbipaxcenne HanpaBJicHHJt, m hctm hktob m noTpeôHOCTeM pyccKoro ztyxa b aaHHuK MCTopMuecKHÜ MOMenx (XVni: 99).

Therefore in part we call Pushkin our greatest national poet (in the future and popular, and in the literal, sense of the word), precisely because he has the fullest expression of the tendencies, instincts and needs of the Russian spirit at the present historical moment.

When Dostoevskii here equates Pushkin’s aesthetics with the proper expression of

the Russian spirit “b flanubiti McxopHuecxH^ momchx ” (“at the present historical

moment"), he highlights the cultural and historic relevance of Pushkin’s literary texts.

After characterizing Pushkin as a cultural historian, Dostoevskii then concludes in the next article of the series that Pushkin’s Evgenii Onegin is a “wcxopMHecKHM xwn’’

(“historical type’’) because “ b HeM...BbipaxeHbi WMeHHo see xe uepxbi, Koxopwe

MorJiw BbipasMXbcn y oüHoro x o jte k o pyccKoro trejroBCKa b H3BecxHbiM MOMenx ero ÎKM3HH’’ (“in him...are expressed exactly all those traits, which would have been

7por a discussion of how KHH3b CepeGpanuu follows the tradition of M. N. Zagoskin’s historical novels, see Mark Al’tshuller’s study of the Russian historical novel, Snoxa Bojibmepa CKomma e Poccuu: McmopunecKuu poMOH 1830-x eodoe (The Epoch o f Walter Scott in Russian: The Historical Novel of the 1830s; 270-2). For a description of BoHna u Mup within the context of the evolution of the Russian historical novel, see Dan Ungurianu's doctoral dissertation. The Russian Historical Novel From Romanticism to Symbolism: Fact, Fiction, and the Poetics o f Genre (213-261). expressed in just such a Russian man at a certain moment of his life": XDC: 10).* In

this respect. Dostoevskii historicizes many of Pushkin’s protagonists, collapsing the

distinction between Pushkin’s historical and fictional characters by portraying Pimen,

Otrep’ev, Pugachev, Belkin, Onegin, and Tat’iana as cultural archetypes because

“Bce 3T0 Pycb w pyccKoe" (“All this is Russia and Russian”; XIX: 15).

Dostoevskii thus lent the fiction of this (near-) contemporary a historical/cultural

dimension by placing his fiction within the progression of Russian cultural history to

establish its significant contribution to Russian national Identity.

Dostoevskii’s observations concerning Pushkin suggest that Dostoevskii

appreciated the role of the literary historian in shaping the national Russian consciousness. Consequently, in his own dialogues with history, Dostoevskii often drew not on historical accounts of temporally distant periods from Russia’s past, but on the pseudo-historical narratives of his (near-) contemporaries who he felt read

Russian history with an eye toward the development of the Russian national consciousness. In his novels, Dostoevskii followed the example of these literary historians by recording his nation’s contemporary history in dialogue with its past in order to signify his contemporary period as important for the development of the

8Here. Dostoevskii is drawing on V. G. Belinskii's analyis of Pushkin which discusses Pushkin’s Eeaenuu Oneeun as a historical text: “flpexae Bcero b «OnerHHe» mu bhümm nooTHHecKH BocnpoHSBeaeHHyio KapxHHy pyccxoro oGtqecTBa, B3«Toro b oahom H3 KHxepecHetttnHX MOMewTOB ero paasHTKa. C aroK tohkh apeann «EareHHit OaerHU» ecrb noaua ucmopunecKas b hoahom cMUcae cAoea, xoth b uhcac ee repoeB Hex hw oahofo HCTopwaecKoro AMua" (“Moreover in Onegin we see the poetically reproduced picture of Russian society, taken at one of the most interesting moments in its development. From this point of view, Evgenii Onegin . is a historical poem in the fullest sense of the word, although among its heroes there is not a single historical individual”: VII: 432).

10 Russian cultural consciousness. The creative process for Dostoevskii then became

not only an exercise in aesthetics but also in historical poetics, since his ultimate goal

was the embodiment of nineteenth-century Russian cultural history in a narrative structure for posterity.

To investigate the development of Dostoevskii’s historical poetics, I now turn to his fascination with the historical period known as cMymnoe epcMsi (the Time of

Troubles) which enjoyed tremendous popularity in nineteenth-century Russia as evidenced by the many dramas, novels, and histories relating the events of this dynastic struggle. The following section will demonstrate how various nineteenth- century writers depicted the events of CM ymnoe epeMH, because they saw in this seventeenth-century conflict the historical precedent to their contemporary political crises. In portraying the tumultuous events of the nineteenth century in his fiction,

Dostoevskii also turned to the popular historical period of the Time of Troubles in order to outline parallels between Russia’s past and its current political realia.

1.3

CMymnoe epeMX in Nineteenth-Century Russia

As 0. A. Derzhavina notes in JJpeenAX Pycb e pyccKoü .mmepamype XIX ecKQ {Ancient Rus' in Russian Literature of the I9th Century), no sooner did Mikhail

Romanov establish the new dynasty in Russia than accounts of the civil war (e.g.,

Avraamii Palitsyn’s CKasauue [Legend\) began to appear, because writers were

11 interested in the historical significance of the recent events associated with CMymnoe epeMsi, or The Time of Troubles (143). Still, this desire of seventeenth-century writers to embody in written form the Zeitgeist of their contemporary society does not account for the many nineteenth-century transpositions of narratives detailing this historical conflict.^ Caryl Emerson suggests in her monograph Boris Godunov that the interest in national history in early nineteenth-century Russia may be directly attributed to an increase in popular national sentiment in response to the Russian victory over Napoleon which was won at great personal sacrifice to many Russians

(35). The most influential historical work from this period linking Russia’s victory over Napoleon with her various historical defeats of foreign invaders was Karamzin’s llcmopua eocydapcmea poccuücKoeo , the first volumes of which appeared in 1818.

Generations of historians, dramatists, and novelists (including Dostoevskii) received a historical education based on Karamzin’s work, which was regarded as the canonical source for Russian history in the first half of the nineteenth century, because it includes diverse historical material from Russia’s past organized into a coherent narrative by the Imperial historian. In the final three volumes of his history, which focus on the seventeenth-century cMyma, Karamzin provided nineteenth-century writers with substantial historical material which remained a source of inspiration and controversy throughout the century.

9In her comparative analysis of nineteenth-century Time of Troubles narratives, Boris Godunov: Transpositions o f a Russian Theme, Caryl Emerson defines transposition as a “translatability of narrative.” i.e. the “retelling of a narrative in different genres” (3).

12 The terms cMymnoe epeMH or ee.tuKasi cMyma refer to the turbulent period

of Russia’s history following the death in 1598 of the last tsar of the Rurik dynasty,

Ivan IV’s simple-minded son Fedor, and before the establishment of the Romanov

dynasty with the coronation of Mikhail Romanov in 1613. Even during Fedor’s

reign, his brother-in-law Boris Godunov served as Fedor’s main advisor and de facto

ruler of Russia, so that upon Fedor’s death Godunov was easily elected tsar of

Russia. However, when natural disasters such as fire and famine fostered civil unrest

in Russia in the first years of the seventeenth century, Boris Godunov’s legitimacy

was undermined by a pretender who invaded Russia from Poland claiming to be

Ivan IV’s son, Dimitrii of Uglich.^* One reason that Godunov’s hold on power

remained tenuous was because of popular belief that he was part of a plot to murder

Fedor’s brother Dimitrii, who died under suspicious circumstances in Uglich in 1591.

When the pretender drew on this popular myth, claiming that Boris’s plot to kill him had failed, the pretender was able to gamer considerable support for his claim to the throne. The pretender’s political connections in Poland as well as his logistical support from the Cossacks who participated in the popular uprisings in Russian territories allowed the pretender to advance on Moscow in 1605. Before this False

IOAs Chester Dunning notes in his monograph, Russia’s First Civil War: The Time of Troubles and the Founding of the Romanov Dynasty, Karamzin “emphasized interference in Russia’s domestic problems as the principal cause of the Troubles, seeing Poland as the main source of the pretender Dmitrii’s campaign for the throne and later rebellions in Dmitrii’s name” (5).

1 lowing to the law of the Orthodox Church which recognized only three marriages, Dimitrii was not considered a legitimate successor to the throne since he was the son of Ivan IV by his seventh wife Maria Nagaia (Emerson 18). Still, if he had survived Fedor, his status as the sole surviving son of Ivan rv would most likely have ensured his coronation as tsar of Russia.

13 Dimitrii reached the capital, Boris Godunov died leaving his young son, Fedor, to rule Russia, but Fedor’s brief reign ended when he was de-throned by the pretender’s supporters. Owing in part to his pro-Polish and pro-Catholic policies, this first False

Dimitrii ruled Russia for only a year before he was murdered and his successor.

Vasilii Shuiskii, ascended the throne of Russia.

To consolidate his power base, Shuiskii tried to discredit the first False

Dimitrii further by promoting the cult of the martyred Saint Dimitrii and by reburying his remains with those of the tsars in the Kremlin’s Cathedral of St. Michael the

Archangel. Nevertheless, rumors about the first False Dimitrii’s escape began to circulate immediately after his death, particularly since he still had many supporters in various remote areas in Russia who prepared the way for the arrival of the second

False Dimitrii in 1607. During what Chester Dunning characterizes as the second phase of this Russian civil war (1606-1612), Shuiskii sought a closer alliance with the Poles in an effort to deprive the second False Dimitrii of a necessary power base.

In allowing some of the Poles to retum to Russia, Shuiskii enabled the Polish King

Sigismund III to promote his claim to the Russian throne and facilitated the Polish troops’ successful occupation of Moscow in 1611. Then, in 1612 the Russian army, under the leadership of Koz’ma Minin and Dimitrii Pozharskii, liberated Moscow.

With the Polish army retreating in December of 1612, an assembly of the land gathered to begin the process of electing a new tsar whose coronation in 1613 inaugurated the Romanov dynasty.

14 In Aleksandr’s Russia (1801-1825), this period of foreign invasion and cultural conflict resonated well with a nation that had just escaped another foreign invader who also destroyed Moscow and plundered the countryside—the army of

Napoleon Bonaparte. As the century progressed, two uprisings by the Poles against their Russian occupiers in 1830 and 1863 only served to advance comparisons between historical and contemporary Russo-Polish conflicts so that writings about the

Time of Troubles often maintained a nineteenth-century chronotope.** The first sentence of the preface of Karamzin’s history already points to this continuity between the nation’s past and its historical present:*^

MCTOpWH B HCKOTOpOM CMblCJie CCTb CBJlUteHHaJt KHwra HapoaoB: raaBHaa, HeoSxonMMan; aepsajio hx 6biTun m itejtTejibHocTu; cKpuxcajib oTKpoBeHMM M npasMJi; 3aBeT npe&KOB k noxoMCTBy: ÆonojiHeHwe, M3T>HCHeHne Hacxonmero n npuviep 6ynymero (1: xvii).!*^

History in a certain sense is the sacred book of nations: the primary essential book, the mirror of their existence and activity, the annals of revelations and laws, the testament of ancestors to their descendants, and the addition, the explanation of the present and to the example of the future.

t^Emerson finds this chronotope characteristic of the “Boris Tale” (transpositions of narratives about Boris Godunov), since the “rich blend of traditional and contemporary motifs might explain why the Boris Tale is so often rewritten in the nineteenth century” (15). Here, I extend this chronotope to include narratives which concentrate on other historical personages, e.g.. the False Dimitrii. Vasilii Shuiskii. and Dimitrii Pozharskii. from the Time of Troubles.

l^Emerson. citing this opening sentence, concludes that “Karamzin used the Fall of Boris Godunov to stress a moral lesson, to point the way to the enlightened Romanov dynasty, and to draw edifying parallels between Russia’s past and present” (Emerson and Oldani. Modest Musorgsky and Boris Godunov: Myths. Realities, Reconsiderations 23).

1*1 All quotations of Karamzin’s history are taken from a Reprint edition in volume 189 of Slavistic Printings and Reprintings. The translations are mine.

15 Since Karamzin’s Mcmopusi eocydapcmea poccuucKoeo was established as the

canononical text for nineteenth-century history, this emphasis on equally-weighted

dialogue between Russia’s past and present becomes characteristic of historical

narratives during the century. Owing to Karamzin’s example, periods of patriotic

fervor such as those following Napoleon’s invasion or Poland’s 1863 insurrection

encouraged the investigation of Russia’s history in an effort to obtain “u3T>HCHeHHe

HacTOHUtero” (“an explanation of the present”) that placed Russia in a positive light.

One period that Russian historians consistently associated with national unity was the

beginning of the seventeenth century, when the ability of the country to unify behind

the effort to expel the foreign invaders stimulated national pride.

Karamzin furthered this patriotic depiction of the Time of Troubles when he

highlights the importance of this historical period for the formation of the Russian

state and the unification of the Russian people. For Karamzin, Russia’s history

between the reigns of Ivan IV and Peter I was a crucial period for the evolution of

Russia’s autocracy, on whose development Karamzin’s history focuses. At the

center of Karamzin’s discussion of the Time of Troubles lies his instruction to

Russia’s contemporary and future rulers whom he seeks to warn against ineffective

leadership, such as that demonstrated by Boris Godunov or Vasilii Shuiskii, which

15in the preface to his history, Karamzin divides Russia’s historical development into three periods: from Rurik to Ivan III. from Ivan FV to Peter I. and from Peter I to Aleksandr I (I: xxviii).

16 resulted in political instability.^® For instance, Karamzin concludes that Boris’s

tyrannical policies led to the first False Dimitrii’s successful pretendership, since

Boris’s inability to control his ambition limited popular support for his rule;

HHKTO M3 PoCCHHH itO 1604 POita He COMHeBaJICH B yÔMeHMH ^MMMTpMH; KOTopbiM BospacxaJi HB pjiasax Bcero YrJiMHa, m Koero BMiteji Becb YrjiMH MepxBoro, b TeneHMe nsnn ahbm opotuaB ero rejio cnesawM: cjiencTBeHHo PoccHHHe ne mopjim 6.iiapopa3yMHO BepwTb BocKpeceHMio LfapeBMHa: ho ohm —ne .môiLiii Eopuca! (11:94)

None of the Russians before 1604 doubted the assassination of Dimitrii who grew up in plain sight of all Uglich, whom all Uglich saw dead, and whose body over the course of five days they bathed with tears: consequently the Russians could not reasonably believe in the resurrection of the Tsarevich; but they did not like Boris!

More important, Boris Godunov’s and Vasilii Shuiskii’s failure to unite Russia (due perhaps to questions of legitimacy surroimding their reigns) enabled foreign invaders to capture Moscow and rule Russia. In fact, Karamzin strongly criticizes Shuiskii for so inefficiently ruling Russia that he had to collaborate with Polish invaders who subsequently seized the throne. Thus, Karamzin’s historical account of the Time of

Troubles (which he did not succeed in completing before his death) promotes the need for a strong Russian autocracy which will protect the country against any threat to its borders, particularly that posed by a strong Poland.

In chronicling the deficiencies of certain autocrats, Karamzin emphasizes the serious consequences— foreign invasion and civil strife—for Russia which arose as a

l^For a discussion of Karamzin’s belief in the “instmctionai potential” of his historical writings for the Russian autocracy, see J. L. Black’s Nicholas Karamzin and Russian Society in the Nineteenth Century: A Study in Russian Political and Historical Thought. (100-101).

17 result of her leaders’ inability to govern with the consent of the people. At the

same time, Karamzin takes pride in the fact that the unification of the Russian people

behind such historical military leaders as Mikhail Skopin-Shuiskii and Dimitrii

Pozharskii ensured the expulsion of the Polish armies from Russian land, an event

that brought about the election of Russia’s Romanov dynasty, thereby providing new

stability to the Russian state. In this manner, Karamzin’s depiction of the eeAUKan

CMyma allowed him to admire Russian patriots who united the Russian people behind

the defense of Moscow and to evaluate critically rulers like Shuiskii who relied on

collaboration with foreign forces to strengthen their tenuous holds on power.

Karamzin’s particular warning about Polish threats to Russia’s rulers found a receptive audience in other nineteenth-century writers when Russo-Polish tensions peaked in the 1860s due to the Polish uprisings against Russian rule.

In 1861 civil unrest in Poland led to the proclamation of martial law, but

Aleksandr II, seeing that martial law did not result in a cessation of clandestine political activities, made concessions to the Polish gentry in 1862. Most important, he allowed for the expansion of education, reopening Warsaw University under the name Szkofa Gtôwna (the Main School), which became a center for leftist activity on

Polish soil. Meanwhile, a radical underground political group known as the

Centralny Komitet Narodowy (National Central Committee) continued to plan for an insurrection against the growing presence of Russian troops on Polish soil. When

(7lt must be considered that the people partially withheld their support for these two leaders because neither Godimov nor Shuiskii had incontestably legitimate claims to power.

18 the Russian government began to organize a conscription of Poles into the Russian

army in January of 1863, small groups of leftist armed insurgents attacked the

Russian garrisons.** Although they were not entirely successful in their raid on the

garrisons, their actions still incited peasant rebellions throughout the countryside.

Napoleon III, seeking to de-stabilize Prussia (which was bound by an international agreement to offer military assistance to Russia), bolstered the insurrection by offering the Poles vague hopes of military assistance, which was necessary to sustain the rebellion. In the end, Napoleon Ill’s allies. Great Britain and Austria, prevailed upon him to abandon Poland, and the Russians regained control over Poland within the year.

The 1863 uprising gained little support in Russia except from those on the radical left who quickly lost credibility on the issue. Joseph Frank isolates three reasons for the hostility of the Russian public toward the Polish movement for independence, including the massacre of Russian soldiers by the Polish insurgents, the Poles’ demand for a restoration of the Polish borders of 1772, and European

(French and British) support for the Polish demands (Dostoevsky: The Stir of

Liberation 210). Yet, the Russian intelligentsia found the uprising most objectionable because they believed that it was instigated by one of the reforms that they had

ISpreviousIy, only peasants in Poland were conscripted into the army, but in an effort to destroy the power base of radical Polish nationalists, the Russian government decided that this latest conscription would be centered in the towns, particularly in Warsaw. The leftists received advanced wanting of this change in policy (leaving plenty of time for them to organize a response), since news of this conscription was published in Dziennik Powszechny {General Daily) in October of 1862 (Leslie 154-55).

19 sought for half a century—the liberation of the serfs in 1861. When Aleksandr II

freed the serfs in all Russian territories, the Russian government was forced to

maintain troops in the Polish countryside because of the disturbances created by the

Polish serfs. The szlachta. otherwise known as the Polish gentry, interpreted this

edict liberating the serfs as mere justification for increased Russian presence on

Polish soil and for restricting the traditional authority of the szlachta. Russian

reformers, blaming the unrest in Poland on the szlachta's fomenting class warfare, considered themselves the champions of the Polish people against the vested interests of the Polish gentry. For example, the prominent historian, M. P. Pogodin, prefaces his study rioAbCKuii Bonpoc. CoÔpanue paccyoKdeHuü, sanucoK u aaMenaHuu.

1831-1867. {The Polish Question. A Collection of Discussions, Notes, and

Commentaries. 1831-1867.) with a critique of the szlachta: “IIJjiHXTa IIojibCKaa siBJTsteTCJt coBepuieHHo rjiyxoK) ko BceM cjiobum Mwpa, corjiacwsi, poacTsa, m coBepmeHHO uyxitoio ue tojilko CjiaBau, ho aa*te CBoero co6cTBeHHoro

Hapojta’’ ("The Polish szlachta appears completely deaf to all words of peace, harmony, and kinship and completely alien not only to the Slavs but even to its own people"; vi>. Trying to account for the szlachta's hostility toward its own Slavic brethren. Russian historians turned to Poland’s past in order to find historical motivation for this latest Russo-Polish conflict, motivation which they foimd in the seventeenth-century.

20 For example, when the populist historian, N. I. Kostomarov published in

1868 his historical study of the Time of Troubles, CMymnoe epeMH MocKoecKoeo

eocydapcmea e nanaAe XVII cmo.iemuH. 1604-13 {The Time of Troubles of the

Muscovite State at the Beginning o f the XVIIth Century. 1604-13), he concluded with

a commentary on the impact of this historical period on the subsequent history of

relations between the two countries:

Hama cvtyTHan anoxa 6biJia rnxoaoH CBoeaoJibCTBa, HecorJiacun, 6e3HauajiMH, nojiuTHuecKoro uepasyMHn, aBoeaymnn, oSvtana, nerKOMbicjiM», pacnymeHHocTW MejiKoro 3roM3Ma, He tteuHmero o6mnx Hyxjt,— cjioBOM, Bcero Toro, uto BnocjieacTBWw Bnnaocb B naoTb H KpoBb nojibCKoro o6mecTBa w noBejio ero k pa3]io)KeHMK) (795).

Our troubled epoch was training for the capriciousness, discord, anarchy, political nonsense, duplicity, deceit, frivolity, and the dissipation of petty egoism, not appreciating the common need—in a word, all of that, which subsequently was absorbed into the flesh and blood of Polish society and led it into disintegration.

Although he remains critical of Poland throughout this history, Kostomarov still tries to avoid the romanticized portrayal of prominent Russian personnages from the Time of Troubles, a historical approach he rejects in his 1871 article, “JIhhhoctm cwyTHoro BpeMeun: Mnxawji CKonHH-IIIyMCKMM. — IIoacapcKMM. — Mmhwh .

— CycaHMH.” (“Personalities from the Time of Troubles: Mikhail Skopin-

Shuiskii.—Pozharskii.—Minin.—Susanin.”). In this article, Kostomarov warns against exaggerated depictions of various heroic exploits performed by Mikhail

Skopin-Shuiskii, Dimitrii Pozharskii, Koz’ma-Minin, and Ivan Susanin, since “jiHua, acMCTBOBaBmHe b ary caaBuyio ti ôeacTBeHHyio anoxy, oÔJieKJiMCb ciiaHMeM

21 C JiaB W M BOnJIOTHJIMCb flJIB HBC B TaKMC o6pa3W, KOTOpwe, npn C T p O rO M M

Tpe3BH0M MccjieflOBaHMM, OKaxyxcH 6ojiee npoM3Be;ieHMflMM Haoiero

Boo6pa3KeHMîi, qeM MCTopwMecKoro M3y^eHMa ômjiom flewcTBHTejibHocTM” (“the

individuals who acted during this glorious and calamitous epoch, were vested with

the radiance of glory and were embodied for us in such images, which under strict

and sober examination, would turn out be more the works of our imagination than of

the historical study of bygone realities"; 499). Because of this article, Pogodin

questioned Kostomarov’s patriotism in a series of articles which were published in

FpaotcdaHUH (The Citizen) in 1872-73: “Eme 3a MwHMHa” (“Again for Minin”) “3a

rioxapcKoro" (“For Pozharskii”), “3a CKonMHa” (“For Skopin”), and “3a

CycaHMHa” (“For Susanin”). In an introduction to the reprinting of these articles in a collection entitled EoptGa, ne na otcueom, a na CMepmt (A Fight to the Death),

Pogodin discusses CMymHoe epeMH in Karamzinian fashion, highlighting the heroic exploits of important personages:

coBeryio BaM...ocTaBWTb b noKoe namero j^MMMTpnn ^ohckopo, AjieKcaHflpa HeacKoro, MwHWHa, CycaHMHa m npoHMe Jiio6e3Hbie PyccKMe MNiena. 8 McuejieHMe o r noaoÔHbix npaBMJt MOJioübiM JIKÎJIHM coBeryio HMxaxb m nepennxbiBaxb KapaMSMHa, KoxopuM HaflOJiro eme itojiMccH ocxaBaxBcsr naimtM ymtxejieM, xax m MiteajioM PyccKoro rpaxutaHMHa (iii-iv).

I advise you...to leave in peace our Dimitrii Donskoi, Aleksandr Nevskii, Minin, Susanin, and other dear Russian names. For the recovery of similar concepts, I advise young people to read and re-read Karamzin who must still for a long time remain our teacher and as the ideal Russian citizen.

22 When Pogodin admires strong leaders from Russia’s Time of Troubles, he also

emphasizes the importance of their image for contemporary times, since Russia still

faced a threat to its security from Poland. Thus, these two famous historians, while

differing in their historical understanding of the Time of Troubles, both used their

discussions of the seventeenth-century conflict in order to comment on the Russo-

Polish conflict of their contemporary period.

Against the backdrop of these historical debates appeared numerous Time of

Troubles dramas in the nineteenth century, primarily based on the historical material found in Karamzin’s Mcmopua. eocydapcmea poccuucKoeo. The reception of

Pushkin’s drama in the 1830s and 1840s showed that Eopiic Fodynoe was accepted as the fictionalization of Karamzin’s historical account of the Time of Troubles.

Already in 1826, the censor, F. V. Bulgarin, concluded that the first draft of

Pushkin’s drama, entitled KoMedua a IJape Bopuce u FpuiuKe Ompenbeee {A

Comedy About Tsar Boris and Grishka Otrep’ev), heavily relied on Karamzin’s history, an observation echoed by V. G. Belinskii in 1845 in a discussion of the

1831 version of Boris Godunov in his “CxaTbH aecRTaa” (“Tenth Article’’) on

Pushkin’s writings: “FfymKnn paficKn bo bccm nocaeaosaa KapaMsnny’’

(“Pushkin slavishly followed Karamzin in everything”; VIT. 508).*^ Bulgarin’s censor’s report also demonstrates well how Pushkin’s contemporaries apply

19G. O. Vinokur cites Bulgarin’s report on KoMedua o Uape Bopuce u FpuutKC Ompenbeee and comments on the publication history of Pushkin’s drama in KoMMenmapuu k

23 nîneteenth-century political considerations to his drama, owing to the fact that his writings often address subversive political themes:

ffyx ne.ioeo coHiiHeHua. MOHapxtmecKoü, m6o Hwrjie He BBejtenbi MeuTbi o CBOôoite, KaK b flpyrwx comiHeHwsix cero asTopa, w TOJibKo oaHO MecTO npeaocyawTeJibHo s noawTtmecKOM OTHOUieHMH: Hapoa npHBH3bIBaeTCJl K CaM03BaHUy MMeHHO noTOMy, MTo noHMTaex ero orpacabio apeBuero uapcKoro poaa (Vinokur 213).

The spirit of the work is monarchical for there is nowhere introduced dreams of freedom, as there are in other works of this author, and only one place is liable with respect to political considerations: the people attach themselves to the pretender because they respect his branch of the ancient tsarist lineage.

Indeed, as Dunning explains in “Rethinking the Canonical Text of Pushkin’s Boris

Godunov,” Aleksandr remained suspicious of the political views expressed in

Pushkin’s tragedy: “The play has, in fact, long been regarded as a veiled attack on

Alexander, as a regicide and usurper. For his part, Alexander really did fear

Pushkin’s pen and his ability to influence others with his dangerous ideas’’ (578).

Furthermore, the politically-charged atmosphere (following the Decembrist Rebellion) in which this play was received only served to promote Pushkin’s drama and encouraged nineteenth-century litterateurs to respond with their own politicized narratives about the Time of Troubles. Still, although numerous dramas about the seventeenth-century cMyma followed Pushkin’s Eopuc Fodynoe in the nineteenth

20rhe popularity of this time period for dramatists may also be explained, as Harriet Murav notes in Holy Foolishness: Dostoevsky's Novels & the Poetics of Cultural Critique (on the basis of information procured from Caryl Emerson), by “the 1837 prohibition against dramatic depictions of the Romanov family” (108).

24 century, his tragedy mamtamed the same status amongst dramatists as Karamzin’s

Mcmopusi eocydapcmea poccuücKoeo realized amongst historians.

Due to the interference of the censors, the publication of Pushkin’s drama

was delayed until 1830, a delay that significantly affected the reception of the drama

in Russia."* In November of this same year, a group of Polish conspirators

successfully staged a rebellion against their Russian occupiers. Nikolai I had tried to

limit the clandestine activities of such political groups when he discovered that several

Poles helped plot the Decembrist Rebellion in 1825. However, when he allowed the

Polish senate to try those Poles who were implicated, the senate cleared them of the

treason charges in 1828. Nicholai 1 remained dissatisfied with this conclusion, but

his relations with other European nations prevented him from acting until after

November 1830 when a group of Polish conspirators tried to assassinate Grand Duke

Konstantin and gained control over part of Warsaw. When Nikolai I refused to make

any concessions in 1831, a war broke out which was quickly resolved in the

Russians’ favor and which ended in the exile of many members of the Polish

intelligentsia to Siberia. Nikolai’s ongoing difficulties with the Poles helps to explain

his objection to the publication of Pushkin’s drama in its original form. This 1830

version was “more or less in line with Karamzin’s interpretations of the Time of

Troubles” since it “dissociated Pushkin from the Jesuits, the Poles, and False Dmitrii”

and since the “new final scene showed that False Dmitrii was not supported by the

21 For a discussion of the effect of censorship on the publication and production of Pushkin's drama, see Emerson and Oldani's monograph Modest Musorgsky and Boris Godunov (127-131).

25 narod” (Dunning, “Rethinking the Canonical Text”" 587). Nonetheless, as Emerson

indicates, Pushkin’s Eopuc Fodynoe still presents a very positive image of Poland:

"In Pushkin’s Boris the Poles are a colorful cultural alternative to Russia—free,

selfish, foolish, invigorating. Poland is a place where ladies dance in public and

poets flourish” (“Pretenders to History” 266). Therefore, when Pushkin’s drama was

published in 1830, the role of the Poles in securing Dimitrii’s throne became a central

source of contention which would be addressed by several subsequent dramas.

Although reaction to the Polish uprising gained some sympathy amongst the

intelligentsia in Russia, some dramatists chose to express their hostility toward the

1830 uprising by challenging Pushkin’s positive depiction of the Poles in Eopuc

Fodynoe. For example, A. S. BChomiakov’s 1833 drama /JuMumpuü CoMoeeanen

{Dimitrii the Pretender), which may be read as a sequel to Pushkin’s drama, depicts

the Russian pretender Dimitrii caught between his duty to his Russian homeland and

his love for his Polish wife, whose fellow countrymen appear politically manipulative

and morally questionable." The most overtly anti-Polish response to Pushkin’s

drama is Bulgarin’s 1829 historical novel JJuMumpuu CoMoseanen {Dimitrii the

Pretender) in which Bulgarin clearly attributes Dimitrii’s success to his collaboration

with Polish Catholics.'^ Indeed, Bulgarin’s Dimitrii is closely associated with the

22por a more detailed discussion of Khomiakov’s characterization of the Poles, see Emerson’s “Pretenders to History” (266).

23The similarity of Bulgarin’s /luMumpuii CoMosemeu to Pushkin’s 1825 version of Bopuc rodynoe was such that Pushkin accused Bulgarin of plagiarizing the vet-unpublished drama. For more about their quarrel, see A. A. Gozenpud’s “Ha HcropHH JiHrepaTypHO-oètaecTBeHHoit 6opu6u 20- X—30-x roaoB XIX b .” (“From the History of a Socio-Literary Struggle of the 1820s and 1830s”).

26 PoFes rather than with the Russians since he is raised by Jesuits in Poland.

Khomiakov’s drama and Bulgarin’s novel thereby challenge Pushkin’s Eopuc

Fodynoe by replacing Pushkin’s two main protagonists competing for center stage, i.e.. Boris and Dimitrii, with one lone hero, the pretender Dimitrii, whose failure to withstand political and religious pressure from the Poles makes him vulnerable to the influence of the foreign invaders who ultimately define his regime.

The 1863 Polish Insurrection fortified this anti-Polish sentiment in the literature about the Time of Troubles, which is reflected in the dramas of A. K.

Tolstoi, N. A. Chaev, and A. N. Ostrovskii in the aftermath of the January uprising.

Tolstoi’s interest in the ee.iuKasi cMyma precedes the Polish rebellion as evidenced by his 1862 historical novel Knsisb CepeÔpsiHuû. which focuses on the career of

Boris Godunov beginning with his activities during the reign of Ivan IV. Tolstoi also organizes his trilogy “CMepTb Mnana fposHoro" (“Death of Ivan the Terrible”

[1865]), "IJapb (Denop UoaHHOBMu” (“Tsar Fedor Ioannovich” [1868]), and “IJapb

Bopuc” (“Tsar Boris” [1870]) around the public life of Boris so that discussion of the False Dimitrii and his Polish allies remains secondary to the dramatic action.

Still, Tolstoi introduces the conflict between the Poles and Russians in the first act when the politically savvy Boris challenges the integrity of the ambassador from

Poland with accusations of espionage and refuses King Sigismund’s request for

24Although Tolstoi spends twelve years writing this historical novel, his research may be encouraged by Pogodin s and Kostomarov’s contemporary debates over Boris Godunov’s participation in creating the modem system of serfdom, debates which are instigated by Pogodin’s 1858 article ”J(oJi)KKO JIM CMMTaTb Gopxca foflyHOBa ocHOBaxejieM KpenocTHoro npasa” (“Is it Necessary to Consider Boris Godunov the Founder of Serfdom").

27 additional Russian lands. In other dramas ahout the Time of Troubles from the

1860s that follow the reign of the first False Dimitrii (in the tradition of Khomiakov’s

JJiLHumpiiii CoM03eaHei{, which acts as a sequel to Pushkin’s Bopuc Fodynoe), the

Poles play a more prominent role in the dramatic action since the pretender continuously struggles with his loyalties divided between the Poles and the Russians.

For instance, Chaev’s drzmdi,MuMumpuu CaMoseaueu, (1865), like Khomiakov’s drama, depicts a sympathetic Dimitrii whose love for his wife encourages his relationship with the Poles despite his love for the Russian people whom he hopes to lead. A. N. Ostrovskii’s 1867 drama JJuMumpuü CaMoseaueu u Bacu.iuCi lllyiicKuû (Dimitrii the Pretender and Vasilii Shuiskii) further demonstrates the animosity between these two nationalities as the boiars protest the presence of Poles at Dimitrii’s court. Dimitrii’s association with the Jesuits as well as his usage of

Latin and Polish forms in his speech continue to undermine his legitimacy as a

Russian tsar. Finally, this renewed emphasis on Russo-Polish conflicts is also apparent in Modest Musorgskii’s 1872 opera Bopuc Fodynoe (adapted from

Pushkin’s drama) which not only contains two substantial Polish scenes but also enhances the limited role of the Jesuits in Pushkin's drama when the opera introduces the character of a Jesuit who orders Marina to court Dimitrii for the purpose of converting him to Catholicism.^

25ln an overview of Musorgskii’s revisions of the opera, William Oldani shows that these Polish scenes are not in Musorgskii’s original 1869 draft of the opera but that they are added in 1872 after the first draft is rejected by the Directorate of the Imperial Theaters. For a comparative analysis of Musorgskii’s drafts and the difficulties in approving the opera for production, see chapter four of Emerson and Oldani’s Modest Musorgsky and Boris Godunov.

28 This survey of historical and literary works about the Time of Troubles shows that this historical period remained in nineteenth-century discourse throughout the life of Fedor Dostoevskii. Dostoevskii’s familiarity with Karamzin and Pushkin in his youth and his frequent dialogue with their writings suggest that their accounts of the Time of Troubles shaped his understanding of this historical period.

Following the January Uprising, Dostoevskii, like many of his contemporaries, revealed a renewed interest in this seventeeth-century conflict as may be evidenced by his commentary on Chaev's JJuMumpuuCoMoseaneu, (1865) and Pogodin’s “3a

CycaHMHa.” Dostoevskii followed the example of these patriotic narratives by discussing in his novels contemporary Russo-Polish tensions in terms of their historical precedents from the Time of Troubles.

1.4

Dostoevskii and the Time of Troubles: An Overview

First, a discussion of Dostoevskii’s early writings in his pre-Siberian phase will show that Karamzin’s Mcmopun eocydapcmea poccuucKoeo, Pushkin’s historical drama Bopuc Fodynoe, and M. N. Zagoskin’s historical adventure novel lOpiiu Mu.iocAaecKiai u.tu Pyccme e 1612 zody (lurii Miloslavskii or The Russians in 1612) shaped the young Dostoevskii’s understanding of the seventeenth-century

CMyma and endowed him with the “romantic concept of history” as “heroic biography” which later inspired his first creative works, the two historical dramas

29 Mapua Crmoapm and Bopuc Fodynoe (Emerson, Boris Godunov 40)."® The

presence of Pushkin’s tragedy in Dostoevskii’s aesthetics is already apparent in the

1846 version of M souhuk (The Double) in which the main protagonist, Iakov

Goliadkin. is likened to Pushkin’s pretender Grigorii Otrep’ev. Although

Dostoevskii’s invocation of Otrep’ev’s name introduces a historical dimension to a prosaic tale about contemporary St. Petersbiug, Goliadkin’s self-identification with the historical pretender makes him appear ridiculous to his peers and even to the narrator of the tale. Ultimately, the presence of Pushkin’s drama in JJeounuK serves to highlight the incongruity between life in contemporary St. Petersbiorg and the pre-

Petrine historical period which produced the Time of Troubles.

Second, an examination of Dostoevskii’s 1860s dialogue with narratives about the seventeenth-century political crisis will reveal his belief in their status as purveyors of Russian cultural identity. In his literary criticism published in Bpe.ua in the early 1860s, Dostoevskii begins to emphasize the cultural value of narratives about CMymnoe epeMH by disparaging Prosper Mérimée’s “Le Faux Demetrius: scènes dramatiques" for its dissimilarity to Russian accoimts of the Time of Troubles and by tmderscoring the historical significance of Pushkin’^s Bopuc Fodynoe. These narratives became even more culturally important for Dostoevskii after Russo-Polish tensions reached a climax during the 1863 Uprising. This is apparent from the

-^Emerson briefly defines this romantic view of history in connection with Karamzin’s history, about which she concludes: “This romantic concept of history as heroic biography, as a story to be told through symbolic personalities like tsars, became Karamzin’s dominant mode for telling Russia’s story ” (40).

30 Dostoevskii brothers' publication of Chaev's nationalistic historical drama,

JJiLHumpuü CoMosemen, in 3noxa as part of their programmatic criticism of Poland

as well as from the presence of Pushkin’s Bopuc Fodynoe in npecmyn.ieHue u

HOKosaHue.

Third, an investigation of Eecu's dialogue with the Time of Troubles will

reveal how Dostoevskii uses this dialogue to draw comparisons between the

seventeenth-century cMyma and the political crises of his day."^ Dostoevskii’s own

usage of the adjective “cMyxHbiM" (“troubled”) to describe his epoch already suggests

a connection between the Russian revolutionary agitation in the 1860s, linked to the

unrest in the Kingdom of Poland, and the upheaval in seventeenth-century Russia

owing to Poland’s interference (XXI: 58). Dostoevskii illustrates this association in

Been when he links the subversive political activities of his protagonist, Nikolai

Stavrogin, to a demonized image of the pretendership of Pushkin’s Grigorii Otrep’ev.

Finally, an analysis of Dostoevskii’s last writings, Bpamba KapoMcaoeu and

JJneeHUK nucame.ia, will display the historical conflict between the Russians and

Poles unfolding in his contemporary times. Although since his childhood

Dostoevskii was familiar with the power struggle between Polish and Russian troops

in the final years of the Time of Troubles through its portrayal in pseudo-historical

novels (particularly Zagoskin’s lOpuü Mu.tocAaecKuii u.m pyccme e 1612 zody),

the Kostomarov-Pogodin historical debate in the early 1870s over such patriotic

27ln Holy Foolishness, Murav identifies the novel’s seventeenth-century chronotope: “Dostoevsky’s representation of nineteenth-century Russia is refracted through the prism of the early seventeenth century, a period known as the Time of Troubles” (102).

31 historical figures as Skopin-Shuiskii, Pozharskii, Minin, and Susanin renewed

Dostoevskii’s exposure to this period. When Dostoevskii references this power struggle in JlneenuK nitcameAH in order to praise the national defense against the invading Polish forces, he. at the same time, suggests that the Poles still presented both a historic and an immediate threat to Russian stability. Dostoevskii identifies this threat as historic in Spambs KapaMaaoeu. by linking Dmitrii Karamazov’s encounter with the Poles to that of Pushkin’s pretender Grigorii Otrep’ev.

Dostoevskii then introduces a binary opposition between the Russians and Poles in the novel by appealing to Pushkin’s tragedy to emphasize the Russianness of Dmitrii and his beloved Grushen’ka and to Zagoskin’s historical novel to depict the other­ ness of the Poles. Ultimately, this opposition demonstrates that Dostoevskii’s vision for the future of panslavism did not include a place for the Poles whose long­ standing animosity toward Russia remained a threat to the political stability of

Dostoevskii’s Russia.

32 CHAPTER 2

DOSTOEVSKirS EARLY HISTORICAL DIALOGUES

2.1

Dostoevskii’s Initial Interest in the Time of Troubles

Already in his childhood, due in part to the encouragement of his parents,

Dostoevskii was developing an interest in a variety of historical genres through his reading of N. M. Karamzin’s history, A. S. Pushkin’s works, and various historical novels. These historical works, because of their strong Romantic tendencies, encouraged Dostoevskii to adopt a Romantic understanding of history defined by its penchant for “heroic biography” (Emerson, Boris Godunov 40). Such a Romantic view of history inspired him to create his first creative writings, two historical dramas— Mapua Cnuoapm {Mary Stuart) and Bopuc Fodynoe {Boris Godunov).

Although his dramas about these two prominent historical figures remain non-extant, descriptions of the dramas are available in the reminiscences of his contemporaries.

A discussion of these two dramas, based on the reminiscences of his brother Andrei and of his contemporaries, as well as on the comparative analysis of textual influences on Dostoevskii’s dramas, will establish the germination of the historical dimension in Dostoevskii’s literary works.

33 Dostoevskii’s references to various historical characters in his works during

the period 1845-1849, indicate that while Dostoevskii continues his dialogue with

Russian history, he attempts to distance himself from the Romantic depiction of

historical heroes characteristic of Karamzin’s history, Pushkin’s and Friedrich

Schiller’s dramas, and Russian historical novels in the tradition of Walter Scott. This

becomes apparent in Dostoevskii’s historical dialogue with Time of Troubles

narratives in the 1846 version of his novella M^ouhuk {The Double). The evocation

of the caMoseaneii (pretender), Grigorii Otrep’ev, from Karamzin’s history and

Pushkin’s drama in Dostoevskii’s novella will demonstrate that /feoitmiK relies on a

specific historical referent to this romantic personage. Indeed, the ridiculous

association of Iakov Goliadkin's double, a nineteenth-century bmeaucratic functionary

in Dostoevskii’s novella, with this seventeenth-century historical figure suggests a

certain dissonance between Russia’s legendary past and her prosaic present.

Therefore, Dostoevskii’s references in JJeouHUK to narratives about the Time of

Troubles represent his attempt to isolate his fiction from the influence of the

Romantics who placed such an emphasis on Russia’s glorious past.

2.2

Dostoevskii’s Romantic Roots

One of the results of the post-Napoleonic patriotic fervor which swept Russia in the 1810s was the renewed interest of Russians in the history of their state

34 (Emerson, Boris Godunov 9-10). Nowhere was this more apparent than in the

historical narratives popular in the 1820s and 1830s which would play such a

formative role in preparing Dostoevskii for his early literary works of the 1840s,

Dostoevskii’s childhood coincided with the height of Romanticism in Russia when

historians and litterateurs sought not only to convey Russia’s historical past but also

to define the Russian national consciousness in which Hapodnocmb (national

character) played an important role. The tremendous popularity of Karamzin’s

Mcmopus eocydapcmea poccuucKoeo {History of the Russian State), the first eight

volumes of which were published in 1818, encouraged this literary exploration of

Russian history in the 1820s and 1830s. When Andrei Dostoevskii recalls his

brother’s participation in the family readings of the final volumes of Karamzin’s history (relating the events concerning the Time of Troubles), he verifies Fedor’s exposure to this prevalent historical trend which supported the heroic and romanticized portrayal of great personalities:

^MTajincb no npeMMytnecTey npowaBefleHwn MCTopymecKwe: «McTopHH focyaapcTBa PoccwücKoro» KapaM3HHa (y aac 6bui CBOM 3K3eMnjiJip). M3 KOTopo# name MMxajiHCb nocjiejiHMe to m b — IX, X, XI, M XII, Tax MTO M3 MCTOpMM FoityHOBa M CaM03BaHueB nenro ocrajiocb m y Mean b naMJiTM ox oxmx nxeaafi (A. M. Dostoevskii 70)J

We were primarily read historical works: Karamzin’s The History of the Russian State (we had our own copy), the last volumes of which— IX, X, XI, and XII—we were usually read, so something

I These reminiscences of Fedor Dostoevskii’s younger brother remain the most reliable source for information about the author’s childhood.

35 from the history of Godunov and the pretenders remained in my memory from these readings.

Andrei then further establishes Fedor’s particular obsession with history (as opposed

to Mikhail’s fascination with poetry) and characterizes his general attachment to

Karamzin’s history: “McTopna xe KapaMsnna SbiJia ero [Oejtopa] nacTOJibHoio

KHHFOio, M OH HHTaji ee Bcerjta. Korjta ne ôbiJio uero-anGo HOBenbKoro" (“This

history of Karamzin’s was his [Fedor’s] reference book, and he read it all the time

when there was nothing new’’: A. M. Dostoevskii 71). Dostoevskii himself testified

to the significance of this historical work when in an 1837 letter to his father, he joins his brother Mikhail in suggesting that their younger sister, “ne noaafibiBaex...

npoHHTbiBaxb «PyccKoio Mcxopwio» KapaM3MHa’’ (“not forget...to read through

Karamzin’s Russian History": XXVIIIi: 38)." The continuing importance of this

historical work in Dostoevskii’s understanding of Russian history is apparent from

the memoirs of P. P. Semenov-Tian-Shanskii, who in the late 1840s remembers that

Dostoevskii had virtually memorized Karamzin’s history (Semenov-Tian-Shanskii

298).^

Owing to the Karamzinian adherence to the Romantic portrayal of heroic biographies. Andrei Dostoevskii particularly recalled the notable personages, Boris

Godunov and the pretenders, from his childhood readings of Karamzin’s account of

2Although the letter is signed by both Mikhail and Fedor Dostoevskii. Andrei’s description of Fedor’s tutoring him in history as well as his recollection of Fedor’s general interest in historical works intimates that Fedor is responsible for this educational advice (69-71).

3Semenov-Tian-Shanskii describes his impressions of Dostoevskii based on their mutual involvement in the Petrashevskii circle.

36 the Time of Troubles. These same heroes inspired authors to “transpose” Karamzin’s

history into various literary forms, including the historical novel and the historical

drama.'* As Mark Al’tshuller indicates in his study of the historical novel. Snoxa

BaAbmepa CKomma a Poccuu (The Epoch of Walter Scott in Russia), while

Karamzin supplied the historical material for this evolving genre, Scott provided the

popular form for the Russian historical novel of the 1830s. Already in the 1820s, the

historical tale of Aleksandr Bestuzhev (Marlinskii), U smchhuk (The Traitor [1825]),

whose plot unfolds against the backdrop of seventeenth-century Russia following the

demise of the first False Dimitrii, draws upon the historical information presented in

Karamzin’s history in order to create a Russian tale based on Scott’s 1824 novel, St.

Ronan's Well (Al’tshuller 48).

Because this new historical tale provided a form for the renewed interest in

Russian history inspired by the recent publication of Karamzin’s work, members of the literary community, especially those sympathetic to the Slavophile movement, at the end of the 1820s began to look to Scott’s historical novels as models for a literary form which could explore “the definition of Russianness” (Ungurianu 98).

For instance, M. P. Pogodin in his article "IlMCbMO o pyccKHX poManax” (“A

Letter about Russian novels”), published in 1826 in the almanac Ceeepnaa. Aupa na

1827 2od (Northern Lyre for the Year 1827), identifies several pre-Petrine historical events (e.g. the Baptism of Russia and the Time of Troubles) which he deems

^Emerson uses the verb “transpose” to describe the “retelling of a narrative in different genres" (Boris Godunov 3).

37 suitable for a historical novel in the Scott tradition (Al’tshuller 61). The first

historical novel of this time period to gain a wide reading audience was M. N.

Zagoskin’s lOpiiii Miuioc.iaecKuu iciu PyccKue e 1612 eody (lurii Miloslavskii or

the Russians in 1612) whose eight editions during the author’s lifetime attests to its

popularity (Ungurianu 59).® Zagoskin’s novel reflected the Zeitgeist of the 1830s

when litterateurs, calling for a Russian historical novel, were well-satisfied with this

patriotic account of the Time of Troubles whose title was also intended to remind its

readership of the successful expulsion (200 years later) of the nineteenth-century

invader of Russia, Napoleon. Pushkin, having already composed his own account of

the Time of Troubles (the as-yet-unpublished drama Eopuc Fodynoe), admired

Zagoskin’s ability to capture the spirit of seventeenth-century Russia in his novel:

SarocKMH TOHHO nepeuocMT nac b 1612 roa. /loôpbifi nam Hapoa, Goape, KasaxH, Monaxw, ôyüHbie ium uih — see o to yraaauo, see 3 to iteMcxsyeT, uyscTEyer, xax aojixcho Gbijio MyBCTBOBaxb B CMyxHbie Bpewena MwHWHa w AspaaMMa IlajinubiHa. Kax x c h b u , icaK saHHMaxejibHbi ctteubi cxapwHHOH pyCCKOM 3KM3HM! (XI: 92).7

^Al’tshuIIer summarizes Pogodin s article in a discussion of this Slavophile's debates with those like P. la. Chaadaev and P. A. Viazemskii who maintain that monumental historical events which serve as the historical material for Scott's novels do not exist in Russian history.

6ln his dissertation. The Russian Historical Novel from Romanticism to Symbolism: Fact, Fiction, and the Poetics o f Genre, Dan Ungurianu also notes that Walter Scott himself, as well as Prosper Mérimée (whose Time of Troubles narrative will be discussed in the following chapter) praised Zagoskin's novel.

^A. A. Gozenpud concludes that Pushkin's glowing endorsement of Zagoskin may have been partially motivated by his desire to limit the success of F. V. Bulgarin's JJuMumpuù CaMoseaneu (Dimitrii the Pretender) which Pushkin believed borrowed substantially from his own drama Eopuc rodynoe (Gozenpud 268-270). For a discussion of Bulgarin's participation in delaying the publication of Pushkin's drama, see Gozenpud's “ Ha HcropHH jmrepaTypHO-oSmecTBeHHOü 6opb6bi 20-x 30-x

38 Zagoskin carries us back precisely to 1612. Our good people, boiars, Cossacks, monks, and unruly traitors— all of this was divined, all of this acts and feels how it must have felt in the troubled times of Minin and Avraam Palitsyn. How lively, how diverting were the scenes of ancient Russian life!

It was this patriotic Romantic view of Russianness which informed

Dostoevskii’s readings In his childhood and youth as he continued his Romantic education by reading historical novels and romantic dramas, both of which center on the characterization of great historical personalities. The heroic biographies of

Karamzin, reinforced by the romanticized historical personalities in the tradition of

Scott’s noble heroes, stimulated Dostoevskii’s fascination with history. Zagoskin’s historical novel is mentioned specifically by Andrei Dostoevskii as one of the historical novels which his family circle enjoyed during his childhood (A. M.

Dostoevskii 70). Fedor Dostoevskii not only read these historical novels but also became fascinated with Scott’s novels at the age of 12, as he reveals to N. L.

Ozmidov in a letter of 1880: "12-tw aex a b ;tepeBHe, bo BpeMsi BaKauMW, nponeji

Bcero Bajibxep CKOxxa, n nycxb a paBBWJi b ce6e c|)aHxa3mo h

BneqaxjiMxejibHocxb, ho 3axo a HanpaBHJi ee b xopomyio cxopony...” (“In my twelfth year, I read all of Walter Scott during my vacation in the country, and although it developed my imagination and impressionability, I instead sent it in a good direction’’; XXXi: 212). Dostoevskii’s early interest in Scott is also apparent from Andrei’s memoirs when he recalls that in 1841 during a visit with Fedor in St.

roflO B XIX B. {«Bopuc Fodynoe » h *MuMumpuu Co-noseaneK»)'' (“From the History of the Socio- literary Struggle of the 20s and 30s in the 19th Century”).

39 Petersburg. Fedor encouraged Andrei to read Scott’s novels (A. M. Dostoevskii

117). In keeping with the spirit of Romanticism, the youthful Dostoevskii developed

an interest in historical narratives such as Karamzin’s history and various historical

novels which promoted the romantic concepts of heroic personalities, national

character, and a common national consciouness with which Dostoevskii would

maintain dialogue throughout his literary career.

In St. Petersburg in the 1830s, Dostoevskii found a new Romantic genre

which peaked his interest -- the historical drama, particularly the dramatic works of

Friedrich Schiller. 1. N. Shidlovskii’s friendship with the Dostoevskii brothers, in

particular with Fedor, during their first years in St. Petersburg (1837-39) encouraged

Fedor’s continuing interest in Romantic literature since Shidlovskii shared with them

the Romantic dramas of Shakespeare, Schiller, and Shidlovskii’s personal friend, N.

A. Polevoi.^ Fedor’s letter to his brother Mikhail in 1840 (following Shidlovskii’s

departure from St. Petersburg) reveals that Fedor closely associates his friend with

the Romantic heroes from the dramas they shared:

ToJibKo npeao m hok ) ne ôbiJio xojioaHoro coaaaubH, njiaMCHHoro MeuxaTejiH noHenojie, ho npeKpacHoe, BoaabimeHHoe coaaaube, npaBMJibHbiü onepK uejioBeKa, KOTopuw npeacTaBHJin hbm m lïïeKcnwp M lIInjiJiep....^acTO m m c hmm npocMacHBajiw uejibie Beuepa, TOJiKysi 6or sHaer o uevi! (XXVUIi: 68)

Only before me was not a cold creature, but an ardent dreamer against his will, an excellent noble creature, a true sketch of a man, who was

8por additional information concerning Shidlovskii’s relationship with the Dostoevskii brothers see V S. Nechaeva’s PaHHitü JJocmoeecKuu (The Early Dostoevskii 72-9).

40 introduced to us by Shakespeare and Schiller...! often spent the entire evening sitting with him talking about God knows what!

When in this same letter he praises the fiery historical personages from Schiller’s plays (some of which he read with Shidlovskii), Jean Racine's passionate poetry, and

Pierre Comeille’s romantic spirit, Dostoevskii clarifies that this fiiendship ensured his continued contact with his youthful Romantic roots which would manifest themselves in his first creative works -- the two Romantic dramas Mapun Cmwapm and Bopuc rodynoe.^ In addition, his admiration of romantic rebels such as Schiller’s Don

Carlos {Don Karlas) and Comeille’s Don Rodrigue {Le Cid) as well as the fact that

Dostoevskii’s Mapua. Cmioapm was inspired by Lilia Leve’s performance as Mary

Stuart demonstrate that Dostoevskii was particularly drawn to tragic heroes of

Romantic drama (Rizenkampf 180).*®

Dostoevskii’s first work investigating the Time of Troubles, his non-extant drama Bopuc Fodynoe, is remembered only by his brother Andrei and his friend A.

E. Rizenkampf. After his brother’s death, Andrei testifies to the existence of the drama in his memoirs:

ABTorpatf) nexcaji qacTo y nero na cTOJie. w a — rpeiUHHU qejioBCK — TaJiKOM ox 6paxa Hepe^KO aaHUTbisajica c lOHomecKHM BocToproM 3TMM npoM3BeiteHMeM. Ha nosaneKmMfl Bonpoc: „CoxpaHHJiacbjih , 6pax, 3xa pyKonncb?", oh oxBexHji

^Joseph Frank, characterizing the impact of Shidlovskii’s tutelage, concludes that because of Shidlovskii, Dostoevskii “began to view the great Romantic culture-heroes whose very names filled him with awe" (95).

lORizenkampf. a friend of Mikhail’s from Revel’, writes that Dostoevskii, having viewed a performance of Maria Stuart with the actress Lilia Lève at the German theater, wished to rework the drama for the Russian theater.

41 TOJibKO, MaxHye pyKow: „Hy, nojiHo! 3 to ...3 to flercKHe rjiynocTM!“.ii

The handwritten manuscript often lay on his table, and I—sinner that I am— without telling my brother often with youthful ectasy became engrossed in reading this work. To the later question, “Did you keep that manuscript, brother?”, he waved his hand and simply responded, “Oh, enough! It was...it was childish nonsense!”.

Rizenkampf s reminiscences also contain only a brief reference to the play from

which he heard Dostoevskii read at a farewell party for Mikhail in 1841 (Rizenkampf

179). Yet, O. F. Miller’s retelling of Rizenkampf s account of this farewell party

provides more substantive information about the drama—its likely similarity to

Pushkin’s drama Bopuc Fodynoe: “Buji ryr, xoHeHHo, m Oe^op MnxaüJioBHM m

UHTaJI OTpUBKH H3 ilByX CBOMX npaMaTMHeCKMX OnWTOB (HaBeJIHHbIX, naao

ityvtaxb, MTenneM IIlMjiJiepa h rXyuiKHHa): Mapiiu Cmioapm h B opuca

rodynoea" (“Fedor Mikhailovich, of course, was here, and he read passages from

two of his dramatic experiments [very likely inspired by readings of Schiller and

Pushkin]: Mary Stuart and Boris Godunov": Miller 185).

Because, according to Rizenkampf s memoirs, Dostoevskii worked on Mapua

Cnuoapm and Bopuc Fodynoe simultaneously (and because the young Dostoevskii’s

interest in Schiller’s drama is well-documented), M. P. Alekseev and V. A.

Viktorovich have compared Pushkin’s Boris Godunov with Schiller’s Maria Stuart in

order to specify common themes which could serve to explain Dostoevskii’s desire to

It Andrei’s recollection of the drama may be found in volume 86 of JIumepamypHoe Hac.tedcmeo (Literary Inheritance: 329). Although Andrei remembers reading the play, he does not offer any insights as to its contents.

42 create dramas in the Romantic tradition/- In his article “O jpawaTHHecKHX onwTax j^ocToeBCKoro” (“About Dostoevskii’s Dramatic Experiments’’) Alekseev, concludes that Schiller’s and Pushkin’s dramas are both characteristic of the Romantic era in that they explore the reigns of two powerful historical figures—The Russian tsar. Boris Godunov, and Elizabeth I of England— in order to investigate problems associated with authority against the backdrop of history (49-50). On the basis of this epic portrayal of “npoôJieMa BJiacTH’’ (“the problem of power”), he concludes that the dramas of Pushkin and Schiller contain a common thematic composition (50).

Alekseev then underscores Dostoevskii’s admiration of Romantic heroic personalities by concluding that these historical themes are embodied in the depictions of historical personages from the two dramas, ‘ToitynoB, y6nBuiHii JlMMxpnji, n EjinaaBeTa,

KaaHRUtan Maputo Cnoapx” (“Godunov who killed Dimitrii and Elizabeth who puts

Mary Stuart to death”; 49-50). The commonalities between these two historical characters becomes evident in Viktorovich’s presentation “Bopuc ToayuoB

/locToescKoro. Onbix peKOHCxpyKunn” (“Dostoevskii’s Boris Godunov. An

Experiment in reconstruction”) in which Viktorovich discusses Rizenkampf’s assertion that Dostoevskii intended to modify Schiller’s play, Maria Stuart,

“caMocxoHxejibHo h cor.nacHo c itaHHWMM wcxopnn” (“independently and in keeping with the present history”: Rizenkampf 180). Viktorovich first identifies this

•2Although many comparative studies of Schiller and Dostoevskii such as Alexandra Lyngstad’s Dostoevsky and Schiller and N. N. Vil’mont’s Dostoevskii i Shiller center on Schiller’s presence in Dostoevskii’s major novels, they include only a brief discussion of Dostoevskii’s youthful fascination with Schiller. For an analysis of Dostoevskii’s drama in the Schiller tradition. M. P. •Mekseev’s article remains an important source.

43 history to which Rizenkampf refers as the historical data about Mary Stuart compiled by the French historian Filaret Shal’ and published in the April 1841 issue of

OmenecmaeHHue aanucKU {Notes of the Fatherland', Viktorovich 104). Viktorovich ultimately links Dostoevskii’s portrayal of Boris Godunov to Shal” s description of the historical Mary Stuart whose guilt lies in knowing of the plan to kill her husband and of not trying to prevent the murder (109). In this respect, Viktorovich, through his comparison of Boris Godunov with a tragic heroine of a Romantic German drama, shows how Dostoevskii’s drama about the Time of Troubles continues the

Romantic portrayal of heroic historical personalities caught in ethical quandaries.

Since little information exists about Dostoevskii’s Bopuc Fodynoe, scholarly analyses attempt to reconstruct the drama on the basis of intertextual comparisons, particularly with Pushkin’s Bopuc Fodynoe The young Dostoevskii’s general admiration of Pushkin as a poet is substantiated by Andrei’s memoirs which recall

Fedor’s and Mikhail’s arguments with their parents over Pushkin’s stature as a poet:

ABTopnreTHOCTb IlymKMHa, xax noora, 6biJia Tor;ta vteuee asTopnTeTHOCTM XyKOBCKoro a axe viex^y npenoaaBaxejiJiMM cjioBecHocTw; ona 6biJia Menee h bo mhormh namnx pottnxejieü, Hxo BbisbiBajio HeoitHOKpaxHbie ropanne npoxecxbi co cxopoHbi o6ohx Gpaxbes (71).

The authoritativeness of Pushkin as a poet was then inferior to the authoritativeness of Zhukovskii, even among teachers of literature; his authoritativeness was inferior even in the opinion of our parents, which arouse repeated heated protests on the part of both my brothers.

Andrei also remembers that when, not long after their mother’s death in February

1837, his brothers were informed of Pushkin’s death, Fedor told Mikhail that

44 «e^ejiM 6bi y nac ne 6bijio ceMe^Horo rpaypa, t o oh npocwji 6bi nosBOJieHMJi oTua HocHTb xpayp no IlyiuKMHy» (“if we were not already wearing mourning for our mother, then he would ask his father’s permission to wear mourning for

Pushkin”: 78). The young Fedor’s attachment to Pushkin as well as his comparison of the poetics of Pushkin and Schiller in an 1840 letter to Mikhail suggest that

Pushkin’s literary works exerted a notable influence on Dostoevskii’s first dramas

(XXVIffi: 69-70).

More specifically, Alekseev maintains Dostoevskii’s likely familiarity with

Pushkin’s drama, because, since its publication in 1831, Pushkin’s Bopuc Fodynoe remained at the center of heated literary and historical debate until V. G. Belinskii wrote his 1845 critical review of the drama in “CxaTbH itecnxaR: Bopuc Fodynoe''

("Tenth Article: Boris Godunov")—a review which Emerson characterizes as

"arguably the most influential essay on Boris Godunov written in the nineteenth century” (Emerson, “Pretenders to History” 258).*^ Alekseev further supports his argument by finding possible common sources for both Dostoevskii’s and Pushkin’s dramas. Two of the authors which Pushkin acknowledged as formative for his literary creation of Bopuc Fodynoe, i.e., the dramatist Shakespeare and the historian

Karamzin (to whom he dedicated the drama), were authors whose works Dostoevskii read in his childhood (Alekseev 51). Alekseev then posits that Dostoevskii and

Pushkin may have shared a mutual knowledge of Schiller’s 1804 Demetrius (a

l^For a detailed account of the reception history of Pushkin’s drama, see Irena Ronen’s CMHCAoeoû cmpoû mpaeeduu FlyiuKuna » Eopuc Fodynoe» (The Semantic System of Pushkin’s Tragedy Boris Godunov).

45 dramatic fragment about the pretender from the Time of Troubles)/^ Alekseev thus

provides verification of Pushkin’s direct influence on Dostoevskii’s dramatic creation

and attempts to establish similarities between the dramas through an investigation of

possible common intertexts (Alekseev 51). Viktorovich, on the contrary, exposes the

tenuousness of this reconstruction when he finds that Dostoevskii may have identified

with the increasing challenge in the late 1830s to the Karamzin-Pushkin depiction of

Boris Godunov in such works as A. E. Rozen’s drama, fJemp BacManoe {Petr

Basmanov [1835]), M. P. Pogodin’s play CMepmb Bopuca {Death of Boris [1837]),

A. A. Kraevskii’s article “Bopuc (DeaopoBHH ” (“Boris Fedorovich” [1836]), and N.

A. Polevoi’s article “Bopuc FoayHOB” (“Boris Godunov”), republished in 1839 in

OnepKu pyccKoii .lumepamypbi {Essays in Russian Literature', Viktorovich, 105).

Despite Viktorovich’s hesitation in adopting Miller’s depiction of Dostoevskii’s drama as a Pushkinian reading, Dostoevskii’s knowledge of Karamzin (as evidenced by Semenov-Tian-Shanskii’s memoirs) as well as his comparative analysis of

Pushkin and Schiller in the 1840 letter to Mikhail intimate that Dostoevskii’s Bopuc rodynoe continues in the tradition of Romantic historical works by such authors as

l^Although a Russian translation of Schiller’s play was not published until I860, Alekseev refers to a scene from Schiller’s Demetrius translated by K. Pavlova and published in the November 1840 issue of MocKOumsHUH {The Muscovite) as a possible source for Dostoevskii’s introduction to Schiller’s drama. Alekseev also mentions Pushkin’s possible familiarity with Schiller’s fragment (as asserted by A. D. Galakhov). Yet, despite his avid interest in Romantic dramas at this time and his particular interest in Time of Troubles narratives, Dostoevskii does not appear familiar with Demetrius since he does not mention this fragment of Schiller’s to Mikhail in 1844 when discussing plans to translate several of Schiller’s dramas, including Die Râuber, Don Karlos, and Maria Stuart (XXVUIi: 90).

46 Karamzin, Pushkin, and Schiller whose desire for romanticized depictions of

historical heroes draw them to the Time of Troubles.

2.3

Dostoevskii’s Insistence on the Contemporary Relevance of Historical Narratives

Although Dostoevskii’s works from the latter half of the 1840s concentrate on contemporary issues, they do not entirely abandon a dialogue with historical narratives. His first published work, Eedhbie .iiodu {Poor Folk [1846]), aligned him with V. G. Belinskii’s HamypcLibHaH lUKO.ia (Natural School) against the Romantics of the older generation: "As a reaction against romantic idealism, it [the Natural

School] was characterized by an anti-idealistic attitude toward the depiction of life, an attitude which Belinskij understood as realistic, and its principal social value was the awakening of that humanitarian point of view which Belinskij discerned in Bednye iiudi" (Proctor 58). Indeed, Dostoevskii’s critical portrayal of the Romantic movement in Bednue .mdu advanced Belinskii’s socio-literary theory regarding the primacy of contemporary social concerns in literature: “Dostoevsky also carries on a running polemic throughout Poor Folk both with the Romantic enemies of the Natural

School, and with those literary jobbers who exploited the latest fashion solely out of pecuniary motives’’ (Frank, Dostoevsky: The Seeds of Revolt 154). Consequently,

Belinskii promoted Bedhbte Awdii, because he thought that Dostoevskii’s depiction of the pitiful life of a downtrodden clerk in contemporary St. Petersburg followed in the

47 tradition of N. V. Gogol''s socially-minded flemepôypacKue noeecmu (Petersburg

Tales).In his analysis of JJeouHUK, F. Evnin finds that Dostoevskii's 1846 novella also follows the Gogolian tradition based on the novella’s similarity to other

Petersburg Tales, especially on the common characteristics that Dostoevskii’s

Goliadkin shares with two of Gogol ”s impoverished functionaries—Bashmachkin and Poprishchin. Yet, Dostoevskii’s frequent historical references in his fictional works created in the latter part of the 1840s as well as his relation of historical knowledge to contemporary affairs in his 1847 feuilletons demonstrate his continuing dialogue with historical texts.

Dostoevskii’s early works, Bedhbie Aiodu and JJeoCiHUK, suggest that, by

1845, Dostoevskii had become critical of his former penchant for Romantic depictions of historical personages; indeed his first original works develop an archetypal

Romantic MeHmame.ib (dreamer) who endures mockery for his pretensions to historical grandeur. Although Dostoevskii’s MenmameAb is most often associated

15g. M. Fridlender describes Gogol’’s influence on the young Dostoevskii in the notes to Bednue .nodu in the Soviet Academy edition of Dostoevskii’s collected works (I: 467-70). Fridlender concludes: “The conception of Poor Folk would not have been possible without the assimilation of the artisdc experience of Pushkin’s and Lermontov’s prose, of Gogol” s Petersburg Tales (and of other tales about a poor functionary, directly or indirectly linked to the Gogolian traditions), and of the physiological sketch of St. Petersburg in the 1840s" (1: 467, my translation).

l^Frank notes this transition in Dostoevskii’s fiction: “Earlier, he had either paid no attention to his surroundings, or had immediately reshaped them into the consecrated images of his Romantic fantasy-world (Mary Stuart or Boris Godunov)" (Dostoevsky: The Seeds o f Revolt 135). Dostoevskii himself emphasizes his transformation from dramatist to prose writer in an 1861 article, ‘TleTepOyprcKHeCHOBwaeHHa b cruxax n npoae ” (“Petersburg Dreams in Verse and Prose’’): “Bee 3TO 6biJiH crpaHHbie, HyjiHbie (^Krypu, anoane tipoaaHHecKHe, BOBce ue Aon Kapjiocu h IToau, a BnojiHe THTyjiapHue coBeTHHKH h b t o xce Bpewa xax 6yaro KaKMe-xo 4)aHTacTHMecKMe TMxyjiHpHbie coBexHHKii” (“All these were strange, marvelous figures, completely prosaic, not at all the Don Carloses and Pozas. but entirely titular counselors and for that time some sort of fantastical titular counselors XIX: 71).

48 with EeAue hohu , this archetypal character begins his development in the form of

Makar Devushkin in Bednue .iiodu}^ Makar Devushkin’s allusions (in his letters to

Varen’ka) to a romance novel set during the time of Ivan IV, EpMOK u Sto.ieüKa

(Ermak i Ziuleika; I: 52-3), as well as Mark Ivanovich’s description of Gospodin

Prokharchin’s Napoleonic complex (I: 257) intimate that historical delusions are an important part of the psychological composition of such dreamers. ** In MeoCinuK,

Iakov Goliadkin’s references to the Jesuits and Grigorii Otrep’ev, the infamous pretender from the Time of Troubles, reflect this same tendency to link contemporary events with their historical parallels. Like Dostoevskii’s other MenmameAii,

Goliadkin appears ridiculous in the eyes of his contemporaries and from the standpoint of the reader because his discussion of distant historical events, such as those connected to the Time of Troubles, seems irrelevant to the bureaucratic Sum of nineteenth-century St. Petersburg against whose backdrop the plot of the novella unfolds.

Several analyses of Goliadkin’s reference to this period of Russian history also find the historical dimension of this novella to be “incongruous” with its plot

(Frank 305). Therefore, Dostoevskii’s decision to cast Grishka Otrep’ev in the role of Goliadkin’s historical predecessor has received little scholarly attention. Terras, believing Goliadkin’s discussion of Grishka Otrep’ev to reflect primarily the hero’s

l^Frank also finds similarities between the dreamer and the protagonist of “XoaaüKa” ("The Landlady"). Vassilii Ordynov (334-342).

ISpor a discussion of Gospodin Prokharchin’s Napoleonic characteristics, see Terras’s monograph (25).

49 inability to communicate with his social peers, concludes that the words caMoaeaneu,

(pretender) and coMoseancmeo (pretendership) exemplify Goliadkin’s stock phrases

which dominate his speech patterns since “Goliadkin’s approach to life and its

problems is based not on thought...but on phrases, slogans, catch-words, formulae,

and clichés" (Terras 173). Frank’s tendency to de-historicize Goliadkin’s mention of

Grishka Otrep’ev by equating “the famous false pretender to the throne of the true

Tsars in the seventeenth century” with the general “theme of impostorship" is characteristic of many attempts to understand the presence of this historical personage in a novella concerning contemporary St. Petersburg (Frank 305). This generalization of Goliadkin’s reference to caMoseancmeo and Otrep’ev also provide the basis for two detailed studies of caMoseancmeo in JJsoühuk : V. G. Korolenko’s

CoepeMeHHaa caMoaearnuuna {Contemporary Imposture) and P. N. Poddubnaia’s

“/iBOHHwuecTBo H caM03BaHCTBo” (“Doubling and Pretendership”).

Korolenko’s study primarily addresses Russia’s rich and varied tradition of pretenders, a tradition which he attributes to popular superstition. Before his detailed discussion of various types of caMoaeauHu (which include various cultural archetypes such as holy fools in addition to historical figures like Grigorii Otrep’ev and literary types like Poprishchin), he outlines the spectrum of caMoseanutuna (“the art of pretending”) on which he bases his study:

The ferocious figure of Pugachev, who until now still himg over like a morose nimbus of cruel memories, stirring up involuntary trembling, and the good-natured Ivan Aleksandrovich Khlestakov, lying with genius through the laughter of the entire theater,—the self-styled tsar

50 and the self-styled inspector general on account of a misunderstanding, —these are two extreme personifications of one and the same motif... (272).

Korolenko’s final chapter, in which he explores the psychology of the literary

coMOseoHuu Poprishchin. Khlestakov, and Goliadkin, investigates the continuity

between Poprishchin s self-identification as Ferdinand VIII and Goliadkin’s “self-

styled phantom’’ (358-61).*^ Korolenko then concludes that Poprishchin and

Goliadkin share a common desire to escape the societal status of a lowly titular

counselor (360). To this end, Poprishchin accepts the identity of Ferdinand VIII, and

Goliadkin adopts a successful persona, a “self-styled phantom ”, who improves

Goliadkin’s social standing and allows Goliadkin to serve the principles he deems

crucial to maintaining his sense of self. Unlike Khlestakov who becomes a success

in the social arena owing to his imposture, Goliadkin and Poprishchin remain isolated

since their attempts at imposture are linked to their inability to communicate

effectively with members of their social circles.

Poddubnaia, grounding her article in Korolenko's general discussion of caM03eaHcmeo, further explores the presence of Gogolian caM03eaHcmeo in

Dostoevskii’s JJsoühuk. Challenging Korolenko’s juxtaposition of Khlestakov and

Goliadkin, Poddubnaia asserts that Goliadkin’s caMOSBaneu does not arise from his

l^This characterization of Goltadkin’s double as his own alter-ego has a rich scholarly tradition, as Evnin indicates; “In accordance with the conventional point of view, Goliadkin’s double is the evil half of his own soul, the embodiment of internally fading (but painstakingly repressed) amoral longings toward worldly success, toward a career achieved by any price, etc...” (11).

51 psychological instability but from Goliadkin's desire to play different roles such as the "self-styled roles” performed by Khlestakov:

In the presence of all the vaudeville theatrics, the Khlestakovian game with self-style roles helps to understand the governing character of the Double in Dostoevskii’s novella, i. e. the embodiment in the Double is not the evil or subconscious aspects of Goliadkin’s soul, but the revealed other-being of a personality (32).

Poddubnaia does not limit Goliadkin’s coM 03eaHcmeo to his alter-ego but finds that in the first pages of the novella, Goliadkin’s attempt to fulfill a certain social role through proper dress and behavioral patterns already reflects his Khlestakovian tendency towards caMoaeancmeo. Positing the "apyrocTb” (“other-ness) of

Goliadkin junior’s existence. Poddubnaia concludes that Goliadkin’s invocation of the name Grishka Otrep’ev merely signifies his disappointment in failing to establish a

"tender fiiendship with the Double” (33-34).

However, these studies by Frank, Korolenko, and Poddubnaia neglect to investigate thoroughly /JeouHUK's historical dimension which is evidenced by its extensive references to Pushkin’s historical drama Bopuc Fodynoe. This oversight stems partially from the fact that their analyses are based on Dostoevskii’s 1866 revised edition of JJeoitnuK about which Frank concludes that: "Dostoevsky shortened the work by a full chapter and simplified the intrigue, excising almost entirely the motif of the double as Grishka Otrepeev”’ {Dostoevsky: Seeds o f Revolt

310). The frequent identification of Dostoevskii’s first creative works, SedHue .iiodu and JJeouHUK, with Gogolian intertexts may also encourage Korolenko and

52 Poddubnaia to perceive G o lia d k in coMoaeancmeo as a continuation of a Gogolian

theme. Yet. as Dostoevskii’s formation of the MenniameAb archetype suggests, the

adoption of a Gogolian social milieu for the backdrop of his literary works does not

preclude his dialogue with historical narratives. A comparative discussion of

Dostoevskii’s 1847 feuilletons and JJboûhuk as well as the common elements that

this novella shares with its historical intertext, Bopuc Fodynoe, will demonstrate that

historical references in MeoiiHUK display the author’s desire to understand the

significance of Russian history within a contemporary context."®

Dostoevskii’s discussion of national historical consciousness in his June 1st

edition of flemepôypecKasi.lemonucb {The Petersburg Feuilleton), published in

1847 in CaHKmnemepôypecKue eedoMocmii {St. Petersburg Gazette), shows that he

ascribes the Romantic historical approach of “heroic biography” to the general

Russian populace when he characterizes their understanding of Russian history as a

mere familiarity with certain Romantic historical types who figure prominently in the

popular memory of Russia. In this feuilleton, Dostoevskii defends St. Petersburg

against a French tourist’s criticism of the city as "ottna CMemnan KapwRaxypa

HCKOTopMX eBponencKux CTOjrwrt” (“an amusing caricature of some European

capitals” by challenging the tourist’s characterization of the Kremlin as the physical

20when discussing the interaction between MneeHUK nucame.is {Diary of a Writer) and SpantbH KapaMoooebf ( The Brothers Karamazov), Andrew Wachtei characterizes this “motive for a concern with history” as resulting from his desire to understand the “relationship between the past and future" {An Obsession with History 134). However, Wachtei, like M. M. Bakhtin and Gary Saul Morson, has attempted to define a synthesis of Dostoevskii’s journalistic writings with his fiction on the basis of JJneeHUK nucame.tx to the exclusion of Dostoevskii’s other journalistic works, including the 1847 feuilletons.

53 locus of Russian national consciousness, a concFusion the tourist reaches after observing the reaction of the napod (general populace) toward this national monument

(XVni: 24)."^ Dostoevskii counters this argument by explaining that the napod has a limited understanding of Russian history and therefore can not appreciate the historical significance of the Kremlin:

Ho Koro xce 3HaeT napoa M3 uapeü m KHH3eM 3eMan pyccKon ao PoMaHOBfaix? O h 3Haex xpex no MweHM: /iMMxpwji /(oHCKoro, MoaHHa fpo3Horo w Bopnca Fo^ynoBa (npax nocjieanoro JiexMX B C-TpoMUKOM Jiaspe). Ho Bopuca Fo;tyHOBa Hapoa 3Haex xojibKO noxoMy, qxo oh Bbicxpouji «MBana Beauxoro», a o FlMMxpuM /loHCKOM H MBaHC BacMjibeBMHe Hacxaxcex xaxwx iiHKOBMHOK, Hxo xoxb 6bi H He cjiyiuaxb coBceM (XVIII: 24-5).

But what do the Russian populace know of the tsars and princes of the Russian land before the Romanovs? They know only three by name: Dmitrii Donskoi, Ivan the Terrible and Boris Godunov (the remains of the latter lie in the Holy Trinity Monastery). But the populace know of Boris Godunov only because he built the Ivan the Great Bell Tower, and will say so many strange things about Dimitrii Donskoi and Ivan Vasil'evich that it would be better not to listen at all.

Dostoevskii’s discussion of these three notable figures (Dmitrii Donskoi, Ivan the

Terrible, and Boris Godunov) in connection with the popular historical memory of the

Russian napod discloses his continued belief in the prevalence of the Romantic

2tin the notes to the the Soviet Academy edition of Dostoevskii’s collected works, E. I. Kiiko identifies the Marquis de Custine’s La Russie en 1839 as the study with which Dostoevskii argues since the publication, as P. V. Annenkov points out in 3oMeHame.tbHoe decsmu.iemue (The Marvelous Decade), created a sensation in the literary community in 1843 when it was illegally brought to Russia in a revised version and published in the same year (XVIII: 226). Frank also explores several possibilities but seems to suggest that Custine’s book seems more likely than the other candidates, such as Xavier Marmier’s 1843 publication Lettres sur la Russie, la Finlande et la Pologne (228-9).

54 concept of “heroic biography."" Indeed, to some extent, Dostoevskii identifies this

Romantic vision of history with the intelligentsia as well: “Ho n BOCTopr jiro;teH

o6pa3oeaHHbix k poitHoil cxapwHe, n SeaaaseTHoe cTpeMJienne k aeü sceraa

Kaaajiocb aavi HasejiHHbiM, rojiosHbiM, poMaHTtmecKMM BocroproM,

KaÔMHeTHbiM BocToproM, noTOMy HTO KTO y Mac sHaex wcxcpMio?” (“But even

the ectasy of educated people toward their native antiquity, and their devoted yearning

toward it always appeared to us to be inspired by cerebral romantic ectasy, bookish

ectasy, because which of us knows history?”; XVIII: 25).

Dostoevskii’s heroine, Netochka Nezvanova, exemplifies this type of educated

person who displays a certain Romantic ecstasy as is demonstrated by her own description of her education."^ Detailing this education, as it is overseen by her benefactress, Aleksandra Mikhailovna, Netochka Nezvanova describes the way in which they share their readings of historical works. Like the Russian populace and the intelligentsia characterized by Dostoevskii in the June 1st feuilleton, Aleksandra

--The significance of this passage for Dostoevskii's 1840s fiction has been overlooked because Dostoevskii’s discussion of pre-Petrine history, when juxtaposed with his admiration of Peter I’s reforms (which follows in the next paragraph of the feuilleton), has encouraged scholars to interpret this historical summary as simply his argumenl against the. Slavophiles in favor of the Europeanism promoted by the Westerners. In Pannuà JJocmoeacKuü, Nechaeva, focusing on Dostoevskii’s depiction of St. Petersburg in his feuilletons, concludes that his June 1st feuilleton shows his adamant promotion of this city as the symbol of Russia’s future and thereby connects the author with Belinskii’s pro-European views (215-6: 284, n. 12). Frank, on the other hand, believes that Dostoevskii distinguishes himself from the Westerner position through his “visceral nationalism ” but admits that Dostoevskii’s "main aim is to belabor the Slavophiles’’(Dosroevjiy.- Seeds o f Revolt 230).

23While finishing his feuilletons in 1847, Dostoevskii began drafting his novel HemoHKa Heseanoea, which remained imfinished due to his arrest in 1849. The novel focuses primarily on the education of Netochka Nezvanova in the tradition of George Sand’s Bildungsroman. Terras notes the Sandism in Dostoevskii’s novel by concluding that he "has actually produced as George-Sandian a narrative as any Russian writer” (101). and Frank, recognizing Sand’s considerable influence on the novel, particularly identifres the final episode with Sand's novels (Frank. 349-50; 360).

55 Mikhailovna and Netochka Nezvanova prefer to identify with historical heroes rather than attempt to obtain a detailed and holistic understanding of Russia's past:

Mbi c AjieKcaHitpoü MnxaSjioBHoii ncxopmo yuMJiw no- CBoeMy...Mbi oayuieBajiJiMCb o6e, kbk 6y;tTO cbmm S bijim reponviH. KoneuHO, Mexcjty crponKaMW RMxajiocb GoJibine, weM b cxpoHKax: Aaexcauapa xce MuxaiîjxoBHa, xpowe xoro, npexpacHO paccKasbiBajia, xax, xax Gyaxo npn aeü cjiyaajiocb BCë, o HCM MbI HHXaJIM (II: 231).

Aleksandra Mikhailovna and I studied history in our own fashion...we both became animated as if we ourselves were the heroes. Of course, we read more in between the lines than the lines themselves: Besides which Aleksandra Mikhailovna beautifully related everything that we read as if it had happened to her.

This confession of Dostoevskii’s heroine and his portrayal of Russians’ general historical knowledge reveal that Dostoevskii. even during his Gogolian phase. concerns himself with the historical knowledge of his characters and of his reading audience. These historical discussions suggest that Dostoevskii feels that he may count on his readers’ collective knowledge of prominent Russian historical figures, a knowledge on which he may draw when creating his fiction.''^

-'^Indeed. Dostoevskii does draw on this knowledge in an 1848 short story. "HecTHbiii sop" (“An Honest Thief’), in which he alludes to Zagoskin's historical novel. Pocmuc.iae turn PyccKue e 1812 eody (Rostislav or The Russians in 1812). In a footnote. Dostoevskii appeals to his reader’s familiarity with the historical figure. Figner. found in Zagoskin’s historical novel: ’’CxpaHHwA xapaKxep SHaMeHHToro O nm epa. BepoaxHO. y x e HasecreH snoJiHe Kaxotowy M3 qHTaxejiefl. 06 new Bcxpeqaexca roxce m h o p o noapoGnocTed b HSBecTHOM povcaue r-aa SarocKMHa «PocTHCJiaB. HJiH PyccKue B 1812 roay>" (“The strange character of the famous Figner is most likely already well known to each of my readers. One may also come across many details about him in the famous novel of Mr. Zagoskin’s Rostislav or The Russians in 1812"; H: 424).

56 2.4

Subverting the Historical in MeouHUK

In JJeouHUK, Dostoevskii maintains dialogues with this popular historical knowledge by likening Goliadkin to the demonic caMoaeanen from the Time of

Troubles, Grishka Otrep’ev, Dostoevskii may have inferred from the popularity of

Karamzin’s history and Pushkin’s Bopuc Fodynoe amongst the reading public that his audience was likely to be familiar with the seventeenth-century historical crisis.^

Dostoevskii’s belief in his readers’ familiarity with this historical period is already evidenced by his June 1847 feuilleton, since two out of the three “heroic” figures to which Dostoevskii’s refers are directly linked to the Time of Troubles (Ivan IV, whose death left only an ineffective legitimate heir dominated by the ambitious

Godunov, and Boris Godunov, the first elected tsar of Russia whose contested legitimacy resulted in political instability which enabled several caMoaeannu of unknown origin to vie for the Russian throne). Therefore the inclusion of a reference to yet another prominent historical figure from this period—Grishka Otrep’ev—in

JJeoCiHUK's narrative represents Dostoevskii’s attempt at appealing to his readers’ familiarity with Russian history. A comparative analysis of Dostoevskii’s JXeoûHUK and Pushkin’s Bopuc Fodynoe, will show that Pushkin’s historical tragedy is an important historical intertext for Dostoevskii’s novella.

^Dostoevsky may rely also on the immediate association of his reference to the caMoseaneu with Pushkin’s drama since Pushkin is uppermost in the minds of the St. Petersburg intelligentsia during the year he writes JJoouhuk due to Belinskii’s 1845 publication of his critical review of Pushkin’s drama. For further information about Belinskii’s article, see my discussion above (21-22, 45).

57 In both Eopuc Fodynoe and JJsoühuk , the protagonist"® faces a choice early

in the narrative between a public life and a more secluded life centered on spiritual

discipline.-^ Otrep’ev, a novice at Chudovo Monastery, is inspired by Pimen’s account of worldly conflicts to leave the secluded life of the monastery for a more adventurous life in the secular worldwhile Goliadkin, a “ c m m p h b im nejioneK”

(“quiet man”), is encouraged by his doctor, Krest’ian Ivanovich, “ne nyacitaTbca

5KM3HM BeceJiow" (“to not avoid the merry life”: I: 339). Pimen’s hostility to the

“rpeuiHbiM CBeT” (“sinful world”; VII: 20) mirrors Goliadkin’s critical appraisal of the “cBexcKMH luyM” (“noise of the world”: I: 339) as both seek peaceful refuge from the hectic life of their contemporaries, but unwittingly, both of these characters also facilitate the rise to power of the caM03eaHu,bi in their respective works.

Pimen’s chronicle account implicating Boris in the death of the tsarevich provides

Otrep’ev with a new identity with which he will successfully engage in international political intrigue: “In Boris Godunov, the figure of Pimen functions both as archaic voice and as generative force, as a true author of action in the play” (Emerson, Boris

-^Although Pushkin's drama is generally believed to have two protagonists, Boris Godunov and Grigorii Otrep’ev, I will refer to Otrep’ev as the drama’s protagonist for the purposes of this study.

27a. Kovach, making an ontological claim for these two worlds, outlines the juxtaposition of the two worlds—one based on materialist values and the other on spiritual values—in cormection with MeoûHUK, because he believes that Goliadkin's recognition of the former in lieu of the latter (which occiu-s when Goliadkin suggests to his double that they participate in intrigues together) leads to his inevitable fissure (58). However, my analysis regards these two worlds as options in an ethical system of character formation, i.e. choices which, when presented to Dostoevskii’s and Pushkin’s protagonists, participate in the final determination of their characters in their respective works.

28H’ia Serman characterizes Otrep’ev’s decision in a similar manner “he wants to exchange the prose of peaceful existence for the poetic fullness of life" (32).

58 Godunov 129). As Korolenko discovers, Goliadkin also appears to be searching for

a new social role almost from the first pages ofM bouhuk where he denies his own

identity in order to avoid communication with a superior:

M m c h h o He H. He a. aa w t o jib k o — roBopwa rocnoawn roaaaKWH, cHHMaa Luaany npea AnapeeM

"It’s not really me, it’s not me, that’s it,”said Mr. Goliadkin, raising his hat to Andrei Filippovich, not taking his eyes off him. "I...I am nothing," he whispered with difficulty, “I am absolutely nothing...it’s not me at all, Andrei Filippovich, it’s not me at all...not me, that’s it.”

Goliadkin continues to encourage the formation of his alter-ego when, disregarding

his stated aversion to "xwTpocTM” (“ruses”), “wHTpMrM” (“intrigues”), and "MacKM”

(“masks”), he consistently engages in intrigue which both leads to the appearance of

his double and encourages his double’s social acceptance at the cost of his own

identity. In this respect, the proponents of the moral life inEopuc Fodynoe and

JJeomiiK contribute to the social intrigue so unpalatable to them by providing their

caMoaeoHnu with created social identities—Otrep’ev with the persona of the

tsarevich Dimitrii and the double with Goliadkin’s own social mask.

Both Goliadkin and Otrep’ev realize that their success in society hinges on

public acceptance of their new personae. Otrep’ev realizes the risks associated with

dependence on popular opinion even before he establishes his identity as the

29Korolenko maintains that this extreme self-doubt, indicative of Poprishchin’s behavior, leads to his loss of self which enables the appearance of the double, the «caMosBaHHUü 4>aHT0t«rb» (“self-styled phantom") who arises from the depths of Goliadkin’s soul (358-60).

59 tsarevich. In his first appearance, prior to Pimen’s recounting the chronicle, Otrep’ev

describes a reccuring dream which prophesies his worldly success and his descent

from power:

Mne CHMJiocn, uto JiecxHMua KpyTan Meun B ejia na SaiuHio; c sbicoTbi Mue Buaejiacb MocKsa, uto MypaBewHUK: BuHsy Hapoa na njioutajtn Kuneji M Ha MeHH yKasbiBaji co cmcxom, M cTbiflHo MHe M cTpamuo cTanoBHJiocb— M, naitaH cmpeMBAae, h npo6y)K;tajicH... (VII: 19)

I dreamt that a steep staircase Led me up a tower; From the top Moscow seemed to me like an anthill; Below the populace swarmed on the square And, laughing, pointed at me. And I was ashamed and it became terrifying— And, falling headlong, 1 awoke...

This public disgrace (or as Bakhtin characterizes it “the communal act of comic decrowning on the public square") suggests to Otrep’ev the inherent instability in his public identity, since the dream prophesies his ultimate destruction by the same social force, i.e. public opinion, which enables his rise to power.^° This prophetic forewarning does not prevent Otrep’ev from adopting his new persona as the tsarevich; on the contrary, he embraces his new identity: "Tenb PposHoro Menn ycbiHOBHJia./,ZlMMHTpHeM M3 ppo6a HapeKJia,” (“The shadow o f the Terrible

30Bakhtin includes Otrep’ev’s dream in his discussion of carnival logic in order to demonstrate how Otrep’ev exemplifies the “self-appointed elevation ” of the carnival king and his subsequent demise on the public square (169). However, I maintain Serman’s position, based on his “paradox of the folk mind.” that Otrep’ev’s rise to power depends on popular acceptance of his identity as the tsarevich and of Boris’s role as the tsarevich’s murderer (35-7). Irena Ronen further discusses the source of this popular belief in connection with the legend of the “tsar-deliverer” (101-5).

60 adopted me,/ Named me Dimitrii from the grave”; VII: 64). Then, he downplays any

negative consequences arising from his caMosaancmeo: Tenepb way — norwSeJib

HJib B e n e u / Moro rjiaay b P o ccm u oxcnaaeT,” (“Now I am going—ruin or the

crown/ awaits my head in Russia": VII: 64). Thus, Otrep’ev may attribute his

ultimate political success to his ability to play skillfully his role of the murdered

tsarevich, a role which earns him the popular support of the Russian people and the

political support of his Polish allies.^*

Goliadkin, on the other hand, continually denies his role as an intriguer and

uses references to characters in Pushkin’s historical drama as a means of distancing himself from his attempts to participate in the"cBeTCKMri luyM” (“noise of the world”). When Goliadkin first falls, like Otrep’ev, “b Sesany” (into the abyss) as a result of unseemly social behavior at Klara Olsuf’evna’s birthday party in

Berendeev’s house, he blames the disgraceful episode on Jesuitical intrigue (I: 355).

Both Otrep’ev and Goliadkin consciously engage the help of Jesuits in order to ensure the success of their intrigues. Otrep’ev, depending on the political/financial support of the Poles, adopts the Catholic faith for which Pater Chemikovskii blesses him: '^BcnoMoinecmeyü re6e cBJtTbtil WniaTirtt/Koraa npitayr WHbie BpeMena”^

(“May St. Ignatius help you/ Upon the arrival of other times”: VII: 50, my italics).

31 Serman explains this image of Otrep’ev as the murdered tsarevich as resulting from “folk consciousness” and "in utter defiance of logic”: “For if the people believe that the authentic living tsarevich has appeared, the very same person whom Boris Godunov had wanted to kill, it would seem to follow that Boris is not a murderer... For if the Tsarevich Dmitry were alive and were truly the tsarevich and not a pretender, then Boris did not kill him. and was not a regicide, and in fact was not a criminal at all” (35).

61 For his cunning political manuevering, Marina will name him the “Ha6oxHbiM

npuMMbiiu eaywTOB” (“devout adopted son of the Jesuits”: VII: 64). Goiiadkin

draws on the Jesuits for moral justification when he attempts to sneak into Klara

Olsuf’evna’s birthday party. He identifies his own behavior with Jesuitical intrigue,

explaining that “MesywTbi nocTaBMJiw ita^e npaBMjioM cbomm CHUTaxb Bce

cpeacTBa roüamwMHCJt, Jiumb 6bi uejib Morjia 6biTb jtocTwrHyTa” (“the Jesuits

even supplied their own rule considering all means suitable, so long as the goal could

be attained”: I: 351). The narrator’s ironical depiction of Goiiadkin's self-association

with the Jesuits (in the preface to the fourth chapter) underscores the Jesuitical

connection between Bopuc Fodynoe and JJbouhuk: “O tom , KaK rocnoawH

FojiHflKHH, BcnoMomecmeyeMuu wesyuraMU, AOCTwraeT HaKoueu cBoeii uejiu”

(“How Mr. Goiiadkin, with the help of the Jesuits, finally attains his goal”: 1: 348,

my italics). Both Otrep’ev and Goiiadkin appear to embrace their connections to the

Jesuits as Otrep’ev consents to “xHxpuxb c npuflBopHbiM eayuxoM” (“to plot with

court Jesuits”: VII: 65) in order to secure the Muscovite throne, and Goiiadkin adopts

what he perceives as the Jesuit credo to realize social success at Berendeev’s house

(I: 351). Whereas Otrep’ev subordinates his Jesuitical tendencies to his own ends,

Goiiadkin invokes the Jesuitical program to deny his own persona as the

“HHxpMraHx” (“intriguer”) at his benefactor’s house, even as he confronts the master of the house: TocnoatiH FojiJiitKHH, yac paayMeexcn, 6biji ne WHxpMraHX h jiotuMXb napKex canoraMW ae viacxep... Tax yx cjiyqwjiocb. K xoMy xe n

62 MesyHTbi KaK-TO r y r no;iMeniajiMCb...” (“Mr. Goiiadkin, of course, was not an

intriguer and not a master of boot-licking...It had already happened. Besides, even

the Jesuits were somehow mixed up in it..."; I: 352). Goliadkin’s stock

characterization of Jesuitical intrigue thereby provides him with the moral support

necessary to confront the “cBercKHil inyM" while at the same time absolving him

from any moral qualms he may have arising from his desire to benefit from social

intrigue. It is this character flaw that the narrator mocks in his preface to the fourth

chapter, when he concludes that Goiiadkin may achieve his long-desired goal of

worldly success if he follows the example of the Jesuits.

The appearance of Goliadkin’s double and Goliadkin’s subsequent comparison of his double to the demonized figure of Grigorii Otrep’ev represent further attempts on Goliadkin’s part to distance himself from his social persona which engages in intrigue. Goiiadkin flees from his public humiliation at Berendeev’s house: “Oh copaajicH c MecTa, H a KOTopoM aocejie ctohji, xax npMKoaaHHbiw, w cmpeMZAae bpocMjicH BOH, Kyaa-HHÔyab, na Boaayx, na Boaio..." (“He tore himself away from the spot on which he had been standing, as though riveted, up to now and rushed headlong away somewhere, into the open, into freedom..."; I: 355, my italics)?'

Goliadkin’s desire to deny his own participation in the social intrigue which led to his expulsion results in the creation of Goliadkin’s new social persona as physically

32GoIiadkin’s headlong flight echoes Otrep’ev’s fell from the precipice in his prophetic dream which may be seen as force which encourages him to become the coMoseaneu.

63 embodied in his double.From the moment of the Double’s appearance, Goiiadkin maintains his distance from his alter-ego as indicated by his sense of foreboding following his recognition of his double:

riojioxeHMe ero b oto MPHoeeuMe noxoanjio na nojioxcenne HejioseKa, cxoHutero naa cxpamuoM crpeMHHHOH, Kor;ta aevuisi noit HMM oGpwBaeTcn. yxc noKanHyjiacb, yxc ;tBMHyjiacb, b nocjieaHMH pas KOJibiinexcH, najtaex, yejicKaex ero a Sesjty, a MejKity xeM y uecuacxHoro Hex hm cmjim, hh XBepaocxM ityxa oxcKOMMXb nasaa, oxaecxb cboh rjiasa ox anjiiomeM nponacxw; besitna xstnex ero, w oh npbiraex, naKOHeu, b nee caw, caw ycKopHH MHHyxy cBoeii ace nornbejin (I: 358).

At that moment his position resembled the position of a man, standing over terrible rapids, when the earth gives way beneath him; the earth lurched, moved, and then sways for the last time and draws him into the abyss, but the unfortunate has no strength, no strength of spirit to jump back, to take his eyes of the gaping abyss; the abyss draws him, and he finally jumps into it, hastening the moment of his ruin.

As Goiiadkin views the Double’s social success, he blames this new persona for his own lack of social advancement, much in the way that he holds the Jesuits responsible for all intrigues at the Berendeev’s party. Attempting to separate his public identity from that of his double (who is plotting to take over Goliadkin’s place in society by assuming his identity), Goiiadkin associates the Double with Grigorii

Otrep'ev in a letter to Nestor Vakhrameev.

Unfortunately for Goiiadkin, his frequent social intrigues render his character suspect in the eyes of his colleagues so that his appeals for protection against his double’s c a M 03e a H c m e o appear ridiculous. In addition to his self-promotion at

■J^Here, I am agreeing with Korolenko and Evnin that Goliadkin’s double is the physical manifestation of his alter-ego.

64 Klara Olsufevna’s birthday party, Goiiadkin continues to plot in his nighttime tête-à-

tête with his double: “mm, apyxnm e, GyaeM xnrpMTb, saoano XHTpnxb dyttew; c

cBoen CTopoHbi SyacM UHxpMrbi Becrw b nwxy hm ...” (“We will plot, old boy, we

will plot together: we will conduct intrigues of our own in order to spite them": I:

369).^'* Because of such incidents and because he slanders his double's reputation,

Goiiadkin soon becomes identified with intrigue as Nestor Ignat’evich Vakhrameev makes clear in his letter portraying Goiiadkin as a man who is dangerous “ajisi

HpaBCTBeHHOCTH HeBMHHfaix H HesapaHceHHMX jiioneK” (“for the morality of the innocent and incorrupt people”) owing to his lost reputation (I: 387). The narrator, while knowing him to be the true Goiiadkin and recognizing the impostor, still insists on Goliadkin’s participation in social intrigue, as is evident from his summary of the action in the tenth chapter: ‘TocnoitMH TojintiKMH...saaesaeT penyrauMto Tpamsn

Oxpenbena. focnojiHH roJiJiitKMH HanwHaeT HHTpnroBaTb” (“Mr. Goliadin is caught in the reputation of Grishka Otrep’ev. Mr. Goiiadkin begins to plot”: I:

390).^^

The more Goiiadkin attempts to reassert his authority vis-à-vis his double’s character, the more he destroys his own reputation by becoming an object of mockery from the viewpoint of his colleagues. Goiiadkin, still ignoring his own engagement

^‘♦Kovach suggests that this intrigue is motivated by self-preservation but considering Goliadkin’s previous distancing from his own intrigues at Berendeev’s house, I believe his words to contain more self-promoting motives.

35Here. the narrator uses his role as the cKosumeM (storyteller) to mock the ineptitude of Goiiadkin as his attempts at social advancement fail miserably.

65 m intrigues, expects the emotional evocation of a demonized historical figure, Grishka

Otrep’ev, to convince Vakhrameev of the urgency of his dilemma. Yet, when

Vakhrameev refers to Goliadkin’s mention of Otrep’ev, Vakhrameev clearly believes that Goiiadkin uses the name of historical personage in order to further his own intrigues: ‘ToBoproJKe n ewe, mujiocthbmm mom rocyaapb, noT O M y h to caMW neücTsyeTe o6m3hom m caMosBaHCTSOM, waMeKaw na WBBecTHWx Jiwn, cjiaraw na HMX Bce npecxynjiewMJi cbom h xeM cxapancb cnacxw cefin ox weyMOJiMMOw cxporocxM aaKOHOB” (“I am writing this, my dear sir, because you yourself are acting with deceit and the falsity of an impostor, alluding to famous individuals, attributing to them all of your crimes, thereby trying to save yourself from the inexorable severity of the laws I: 414). Vakhrameev’s interpretation of Goliadkin’s historical fixation as a manifestation of his penchant for social manipulation appears humorous, since Goliadkin’s general ignorance of social intrigue allows his double to occupy his social position with such ease. Nonetheless, Vakhrameev’s conclusion logically follows from his recognition of Goliadkin’s attempts at social advancement, which cause Vakhrameev to remain unsympathetic to the hero:

Bbi, MHJiocxMBbiM Fonyitapb, He xujibKO He npwHccjiw Kwwero b cBoe onpaBnaHwe, ho jtaxce na ce6n caMoro ofipaxwjiw cBoe oÔBMHeHwe, w6o xeM itoKaaajiw, BO-nepBWX, hxo bbi wejiOBCK ofipaaoBaHHbiw w wcxopwro nparoueHHoro hbm oxeuecxsa nauiero 3Haexe, a cjienoBaxejibHO, bo Bxopbix, w Gynyuw oGpaaoBauHbiM w ocxpoyMHbiM wejioBeKOM, He yGeperjiwcb w Bnajiw b xe caMwe HeitocxaxKM, Koxopbie xenepb b npyrwx nopwtiaexe (I: 414).

You, dear sir, not only offered nothing in your defense, but you even turned your accusation on yourself, for you proved that, first, you are

66 an educated man and know the precious history of our fatherland, and consequently, second, being an educated and clever man, did not protect yourself and sunk into those same deficiencies, for which you now condemn others.

Vakhrameev’s comments reveal that Goliadkin’s knowledge of history only encourages others to believe that his character shares similarities with that of the seventeenth-century caMosaaneu —Otrep’ev. For example, in both JJsoüuhk and

Bopuc FodyHoe, the main protagonists are described as well educated.

Vakhrameev’s description of Goiiadkin as an “oôpaaoBaHHtiü h ocTpoyMHHW

HejiOBCK” ("an educated and clever man”) parallels the clerical authorities’ description of Otrep’ev’s education: "BbiJi o h BecbMa rpaMOTCH; Hwraji Hauiw JieTonwcM, coHMHJiJi KaHOHbi c b h tm m ” (“He was entirely literate; he read our chronicles, composed the canons of the saints”; VII: 24). However, while Otrep’ev’s historical knowledge enables his successful imposture, Goliadkin’s actually advances the intrigues of his Double by making Goiiadkin appear ridiculous in the eyes of his social peers. In Bopuc Fodynoe, Otrep’ev’s knowledge of Pimen’s chronicle of

Russian history, specifically the account relating Boris’s role in the tsarevich’s murder, inspires him to become a pretender to the throne in the name of the deceased tsarevich.^^ These historical facts feed the ambition of Otrep’ev who “does not wish

36of course. Vakhrameev’s characterization of Goiiadkin as learned is ironic whereas the clerical authorities’ discussion of Otrep’ev’s education is a matter of concern.

37Emerson concludes that "Pimen’s chronicle is midwife" to Otrep’ev’s pretendership in a summary of this scene: "Nothing happens after all. but talk, and Pimen’s monologues are excruciatingly long. But in fact the scene is profoundly active: pretendership, samozvantsvo, is bom here, and bom directly out of a chronicler’s account” (122).

67 to record history” but “wants to make it” (Emerson 122). Goiiadkin's use of his historical knowledge, on the other hand, makes him vulnerable to Vakhrameev’s accusations of social intrigue, or coMoseancmeo?^

Goliadkin’s fixation on historical types thus causes him to become so isolated from his contemporary scene that he is both mistaken as to his own participation in social intrigue as well as ignorant of his social manipulation by his double. Like

Dostoevskii’s other MeHmame.iu, e.g. Makar Devushkin, Goliadkin’s historical fantasies, which replace his interaction with his social peers, end in his becoming an object of parody in the eyes of both his fellow characters and the reader.

Vakhrameev’s letter distinctly isolates Goliadkin’s historical obsession from contemporary industrial St. Petersburg whose modernity precludes the arrival of a historical revolutionary such as Otrep’ev:

rinuiexe bbi, naK oneu, MMJiocTMSbiM MO% ro cy aap b ... caMoasaHCTBOM e natn sex, aeJiosoH n npoMbitujieHHbin (npewMymecTBeHHo nocpejcTsoM napoxoaoe m xejieanbix aopor). He BoabMeuib h, xax cnpaBejtJiHSo waBOJiMTe yrBepxcjtaxb, nxo FpwrnKa OxpenbeB apyroM paa He M0 « e x HBMXbcn (I: 414).

Finally, you write, my dear sir...of imposture in our century, business- oriented and industrial (primarily because of steamships and railroads), and it is not possible, as you were so kind as to correctly confirm, that Grishka Otrep’ev could appear another time.

38Vakhrameev’s comments also further Goliadkin’s connection to the acting capabilities of Pushkin's Otrep’ev noted by Serman who discusses Otrep’ev’s ability to make "the most out of every minute of existence ”: “He represents an out-and-out violation of tradidon: a monk who does not believe in God, a Russian who feels perfectly at home in Poland, amidst the most refined aristocracy, a Russian tsar (a claimant to the Russian throne) who behaves like a common adventiner, a statesman who is governed by poedc dreams’’ (31-2).

68 In his June 1847 feuilleton, Dostoevskii echoes these sentiments found in

Vakhrameev’s letter by warning against historical escapism which encourages people

to focus on past events to the exclusion of the contemporary interests of society:

HMKaKOM pyCCKMM He MOXer 6UTb paBHOflyUieH K WCTOpHM CBoero njieMeHM, b xaKOM 6bi Bn;te He npeacraBjiHJiacb 3Ta MCTOpHH; HO XpeSOBaTb, HTOSbl BCe 3a6bIJIW M SpOCMJIW CBOK) COBpeMeHHOCTb itJIH OflHHX HOHTeHHblX tipeAMeXOB, MMetOIUMX aHTMKBapHoe snauenHe, 6buio 6bi b BbicoHawiueM creneHW necnpaBeaJiHBO w nejieno (XVIII: 25-26).

No Russian can be indifferent to the history of his own tribe, regardless of the form in which this history is presented; but to demand that everyone forget and abandon the present for only venerable subjects having an antiquarian significance would be of the highest injustice and absurdity.

These comments suggest that Dostoevskii himself joins in the general criticism (and

mockery) of Goiiadkin (in addition to other MenmameAu) who transports himself to

Russia’s historical past in order to escape his social ineptitude in contemporary St.

Petersburg.

Dostoevskii’s association of the Romantic “heroic biography” with his pitiable

MenmameAb Goiiadkin indicates that by the latter part of the 1840s, the author has

adopted a critical stance towards his previous romantic attachment to heroic historical

personages. In M eoiinuK, Pushkin’s Romantic tragedy does not serve as a model for

imitation, but rather a means by which the protagonist is ridiculed for his

“poMaHTHHecKMM BocTopr” (“romantic ecstasy”) by his peers, his narrator, and his

creator. In the final analysis, MeoûHUK then represents a departure for Dostoevskii’s attitude toward Russian history—from his Romanticization of Russia’s past in

69 imitative historical dramas to his isolation of contemporary Russia from her history in

his novella about contemporary St. Petersburg. In this respect, Dostoevskii’s

JJaoitHUK follows Belinskii’s demand that writers “focus their interest on

contemporary Russian life and its problems ' (Proctor 48). However, once

Dostoevskii becomes further removed from the reach of the Natural School, his

fiction will reveal a renewed interest in Russian history as he investigates Russia’s

past in order to better understand her present.

70 CHAPTER 3

THE 1860S: DOSTOEVSKII’S SEARCH FOR NARRATIVES PROMOTING RUSSIAN NATIONAL CONSCIOUSNESS

3.1

Historical Narratives and the Russian National Spirit

In the 1860s, after returning from his imprisonment and exile in Siberia.

Dostoevskii founded the journal BpeMH {Time [1861-3]) with his older brother,

Mikhail. In this journal, the Dostoevskii brothers promoted their social-political

ideology known as noneeHHiiHecmeo {pochvennichestvo) which Joseph Frank

characterizes as an ideology that advances “a new Russian cultural synthesis—one

that would emerge from the fusion of the people and their more cultivated superiors”

{Dostoevsky: The Stir o f Liberation 35).' Undoubtedly, Aleksandr I’s decision in

1861 to liberate the serfs in the Russian territories encouraged the Dostoevskii

brothers to believe in this new phase of Russian culture, a phase that would usher in

a period of harmony for Russia. In order to realize this peaceful transformation of

Russian society, Fedor Dostoevskii felt that he had to isolate Russian culture from the

I Frank provides a detailed analysis of BpcMs and noHeenHunecmeo in this third volume of his Dostoevskii biography (34-47).

71 influence of Europe’s divisive class warfare so visibly evidenced by French internal

political crises in the late eighteenth and the nineteenth centuries;

Bbi [na san aae] ao cmx nop (no KpadneM Mepe, se e eauiM BHKOHTbi) yGe^aenw, mto Poccmh coctomt tojibko m3 aayx cocjioBMft: les boyards m les serfs. Ho bu aojiro ente ne ôyacTe ybexcaenu, hto y nac aasHo yxce ecTb HeüTpajibHan nonaa, na KOTOpoW Bcë cjiHBaexcH B oano uejibHoe, cxponnoe, eawHoayuiHoe, cjiMBaioTcn Bce cocaoBwn, MwpHo, corjiacno, ôpaTCKM... (XVm: 49).

You [in the West] up to now (at least all your viscounts) are convinced that Russia consists of two classes: the boiars and the serfs. But for a long time yet, you will not be convinced that we already long ago had a neutral ground, on which all merge into one—unified, harmonious, and unanimous; on which all classes merge peacefully, harmoniously, and fratemally...

Dostoevskii then concluded that this aefÎTpajibHan noqaa (“neutral ground”) for the intelligentsia and the newly-liberated serfs lay in their common cultural heritage;

“Hama Hoaan Pycb nonnna, hto oawH tojibko ecTb ueMenr, oana canab, oana nouaa, na KOTopow see coMaexcH n npwMHpwxcH, — oxo sceoGmee ztyxoBHoe npHMwpeHHe, naqajio Koxopowy jiexcMX a oGpaaoaaHMM” (“Our new Russia understood that there is only one cement, one tie, one soil on which all will come together and be reconciled—that is the universal spiritual reconciliation, the beginning of which lies in education”: XVIH; 50).

To this end, Dostoevskii supported the intelligentsia’s active role in educating the newly-liberated serfs about their shared cultural heritage in a series of articles entitled “Psia cxaxew o pyccKoK jiMxepaxype” (“A Series of Articles About Russian

Literature”) published in BpeMH, In these articles, he focuses on the promotion of

72 Russian literature to the exclusion of European literature in order to stress those

narratives that he believes participate in the on-going development of a national

consciousness." In other words, Dostoevskii evaluates Russian literary works not in

terms of their aesthetical value but on the basis of their ability to translate the Russian

national spirit into meaningful cultural narratives. As a result, he often turns to

historical Russian literature whose patriotic depictions of Russia’s past may serve to

further enlighten the napod (Russian populace) about the common cultural ground

that they share with the intelligentsia. As part of his insistence on the cultural

relevance of literatme, he turns to fictionalized historical narratives, in which he finds

the fullest expression of “pyccKMft jtyx, xapaKxep n ero HanpaBJieHMe” (“the

Russian spirit, character, and its direction": XIX: 41). Therefore, Dostoevskii seeks,

as he indicates in the introduction to "Psiit CTareü o pyccKon jiMTeparype,” to

identify historical writings which embody the “pyccKMW ityx" at various stages in its

development throughout Russian history. It is for this reason that Dostoevskii

promotes A. S. Pushkin’s Bopuc Fodynoe {Boris Godunov) as a significant historical

narrative in the development of Russian culture. Although he critically evaluates

Prosper Mérimée’s Time of Troubles drama. Le Faux Démétrius, scènes

dramatiques, Dostoevskii repeatedly characterizes Pushkin’s artistic interpretation of

-Frank suggests that in his desire to appeal to popular imagination, Dostoevskii encourages the napod (Russian populace) to read popular foreign literature: "Nor was it necessary to limit such choices to Russian sources; extracts from the voyages of Captain Cook and even—horror of horrors!—from the novels of Alexandre Dumas could also be used" (.Dostoevsky: The Stir o f Liberation 103). Nevertheless, Dostoevskii’s repeated denial of Western sources as adequate for understanding Russia and his emphasis on popular cultural literacy intimate Dostoevskii’s preference for national narratives.

73 the seventeenth-century historical crisis as an important contribution to Russian

culture. As Russia’s relations with the Kingdom of Poland became more strained in

the 1860s, Dostoevskii continued to identify Russian literature about the seventeeth-

century Russo-Polish conflict with a patriotic expression of the Russian national

spirit. For this reason, Dostoevskii praised N. A, Chaev’s nationalistic Time of

Troubles drama, JJuMumpuii CaMoaeaneu, (Dimitrii the Pretender), and the

Dostoevskii brothers published the historical drama in their journal 3noxa {Epoch

[1864-65]). Indeed, Dostoevskii’s appreciation of Pushkin’s and Chaev’s historical

dramas about the Time of Troubles is evidenced by his dialogue with them in

ripecmyn-iemie u HOKaaaHue {Crime and Punishment), Dostoevskii’s most famous

novel of the 1860s. Drawing on the tradition of these historical dramas. Dostoevskii

emphasizes the development of a distinctly Russian consciousness by marginalizing

and vilifying representatives of a de-stabilizing European threat in Russian society, a

threat embodied in npecmymiemie u HOKaaaHue in the person of Napoleon.^ When

Dostoevskii implicates Napoleon in the murder of the pawnbroker, Alena Ivanovna,

by holding a Napoleonic political philosophy responsible for the murder enacted by

Rodion Raskol’nikov, the author demonstrates his continuation of the anti-foreigner

sentiment prevalent in historical narratives about the Time of Troubles and in

^Suzanne Steinberg describes the complex cultural image of Napoleon reflected in Dostoevskii’s novel as stemming from his mythical status as "le grand capitaine parmi les dieux” and as "le ravale au rang des monstres” (8). Also, Frank concludes that, owing in part to Pushkin’s 'TlMKOBaa aawa” (“The Queen of Spades”) and Eseenuu Oneeuu (.Evgenii Onegin), "Napoleon had thus long been familiar to Dostoevsky as the embodiment of a ruthlessly despotic unconcern for other ‘two-legged creatures’” {Dostoevsky: The Miraculous Years 74).

74 Dostoevskii’s writings of the 1860s. A comparative discussion of Pushkin’s and

Chaev’s dramas and Dostoevskii’s novel will reveal ripecmyruienue unaKaaanue's

significance as a cultural narrative in that it continues the tradition of recording the

development of “pyccKMÜ ayx” in yet another epoch of Russian history.

3.2

The Embedment of Dostoevskii’s Rejection of Europeanizing Elements in Russian Society in his Analysis of Time of Troubles Dramas

V. S. Nechaeva finds, in her study )KypH(Li M. M. u 0. M. /JocmoeecKUx

«BpeMH» (Af. M. and F. M. Dostoevskii's Journal Time), that a central concern for

Dostoevskii’s program for popular education, outlined in his series “Pajt craTew o

pyccKoif anxepaType" is the question of what kind of texts the Russian populace

should read (129). Dostoevskii details a program for popular cultural literacy based

on Russian literary works, in part, because he fears that the Westemizers in the

intelligentsia would use European educational materials in order to indoctrinate or

“nepeeeponeumb" (“to completely Europeanize") the Russian people (XIX: 68). As

Dostoevskii describes his process for selection in the final article of the series by

critically evaluating a proposed textbook designed for popular literacy, he emphasizes

the necessity of these literary works having relevance for contemporary society. For

^The proposed textbook was described by N. F. Shcherbina in the article. "Onux o K H tire ajta Hapona” (“An Experiment About a Book for the Russian Populace”) which appeared in the February 1861 issue of OmeHecmeeHHbie sanucKU (Motes o f the Fatherland). See V. A. Tunimanov’s notes to "Fajt craTeW o pyccKod JiHxepaType” in the Soviet Academy edition of Dostoevskii’s collected works for a discussion about the many textbooks for popular education which were published in the 1850s and 1860s (XIX: 236).

75 example, he rejects traditional Russian historical writings like “C jio b o o noJixy

Mropeee” (“The Lay of the Host of Igor”) as esoteric, since they are

incomprehensible to the Russian populace:

JXà ueM viojKeT SbiTb sauHMaTCJibHo «Cjiobo o nojixy Mrope Be» menepb uapoay? Bejib oho saHMMaxejibHO hjih o^hmx yueubix m, nojio*MM, a JIB nooTOB; ho h na hootob-to Haw 6 ojiee ACHCTsyeT upeBHBB ({jopMa nooMbi. Hapojt ne WMeex hh MajieKuiero nOHHTHH 06 MCTOpMM: HTO HC nOHMOT OH B «CjIO Be»?(XIX: 4 0 -4 1 ).

Indeed, what can be entertaining today about “The Lay of the Host of Igor" for the Russian populace? After all, it is entertaining for the scholars alone and, let us say, for the poets; but it mostly strikes those poets as the ancient form of a poem. The Russian populace does not have even the littlest understanding of history: what then will they understand of “The Lay”?

Dostoevskii’s emphasis on contemporary culturally relevant readings and his ironic

depictions of Shcherbina’s historical texts as a part of “yneHoe oôpasoeaHue"

(“scholarly education") for the napod intimate that Dostoevskii’s plan for popular

cultural education includes historical texts of another genre (XIX: 41). His approval

of selections from historical chronicles and chronographs, popular legends, historical

novels, and historical dramas demonstrate the primary importance of many patriotic

historical narratives as an effective medium for the transmittance of cultural literacy to

the napod. By distancing himself from the "ynenoe oôpasoeanue," which he characterizes as didactic in “Pbji cTaxen o pyccKOM JiHTepaxype," Dostoevskii sought to further a rapprochement between the intelligentsia and the napod who could meet on the “HenTpajibuan noHBa,” defined by a common cultural identity, an identity partially shaped by Russian literature.

76 In his efforts to promote Russian cultural narratives, Dostoevskii continually

denies the ability of Europeans to understand Russian society, maintaining that “Bcë,

HTO TOJibKO MorJiM Mbi [pyccKMc] ysHaTb OT 3HaK0MCTBa c esponeMuaMM o nac

caMMX, Mbi yanajin” (“Everything that we [Russians] could learn about ourselves

from an acquaintance with the Europeans, we have learnt”; XVIII: 69). By

consistently using the pronoun “Mbi" (“we”) in his analysis, Dostoevskii necessarily

underscores what he regards as the alterity of European culture to that of Russia. His

further detailing of the failure of certain French writers (e.g., Alexandre Dumas père

and Prosper Mérimée), who have studied Russian culture, to understand the

“pyccKMd nyx" suggests that Dostoevskii questions the viability of any transplanted

European influence on Russian society. Having established the other-ness of

European narratives about Russia, Dostoevskii, in his introduction to “Pnjt CTaTen o pyccKod JiHTepaType," asserts the significant contribution of Pushkin’s writings to a heightened national awareness of Russian culture: “Bcë, hto tojibko Morjia naM yncHHTb UMBMJiH3amin, Mbi yncHunn ce6e, h oto 3HaHwe caMbiM nojiHbiM, caMbiM rapMOHMuecKMM o6pa30M «BHJiocb naM b HymKWHe. Mbi noHJUin b

HCM, HTO pyCCKWH HitCaJI ----- BCeUejIfaHOCTb, BCenp^MMUpHMOCTb,

BcenejioBeMHocTb” (“All that civilization could explained to us, we learned ourselves, and this knowledge appears to us in the most complete and most harmonious image in Pushkin. We understood through him that the Russian ideal is completeness, all-reconcilability, and all-humaneness”; XVni: 69). Dostoevskii, thus.

77 endorses Pushkin’s oeuvre because of Pushkin’s ability to express the ideal of

Russian culture in a literary form, since “B asjieHUM flyuiKMHa yacHaexca naM aa^e Sy^ymaa nama iteaxejibHocTb” (“Through the phenomenon of Pushkin, our

future activity is even becoming clear to us’’: XVIII: 69). Specifically, Dostoevskii admires Pushkin’s preference for “nooTunecKaa npanaa" ("poetic truth”)—the embodiment of the Russian national consciousness in various fictional forms—over historical accuracy in such literary works as Eezenuii O hczuh and Bopuc Fodynoe.

On this basis, Dostoevskii concludes that Pushkinian texts contain Russian cultural truths that allow them to become effective narratives for the advancement of a national identity common to the napod and the intelligentsia. A comparison of Dostoevskii’s impressions of Mérimée’s Le Faivc Démétrius and Pushkin’s Bopuc Fodynoe as recorded in “Pna cxaTen o pyccKow JiMTeparype” will show how Dostoevskii reads these narratives not for an accurate account of seventeenth-century history but for a fictional representation of the Russian national spirit, a representation that may serve as an educational source for cultural literacy.

As was discussed previously in the second chapter, Dostoevskii was already critical of French characterizations of Russian culture when he wrote his 1846 riemepôypzcKue Aemonucu, but after Russia lost the Crimean War to the European powers in the 1850s, Dostoevskii’s antagonism toward France intensified. In 1854 while he was in exile in Semipalatinsk, Dostoevskii composed a poem, “Ha eBponewcKwe co6biTMJi b 1854 roay” (“On the European Events in the Year 1854”),

78 which vividly displayed his patriotic sentiments. First, he emphasizes Russia’s

loyalty to the true faith which will ultimately allow her to triumph over her now-

victorious enemies to the West:

Mbi Bepbi HauieM, cnpdcra. He Tepjuiw (KaK 6bi KaKOÜ-To aanajtHWM napofl); Mbi BepoK) W3 MepxBbix BOCKpecajiM, M BepoK) xcHBex cjiaBHHCKwii poa (II: 403).5

We did not thoughtlessly lose our faith (As some Western people would): We were resurrected from the dead by our faith. And the Slavic race lives by its faith.

Dostoevskii here characterizes the Europeans as traitors to their faith, because they

fought to defend the Islamic Turks against the Orthodox Russians: “XpMCTMaHWH

—aautHXHMK Marowexa!" (“A Christian is the defender of Mohammed!”; II: 405).

Dostoevskii also particularly identifies Russia’s enemy as the French by taunting

them: “CMeuiHO t^paHuysoM pyccKoro nyraxb” (“It’s ridiculous to scare a Russian

with a Frenchman”: H: 403).

This renewed antagonism is reflected in his introduction to the series “Pîta

cxaxew o pyccKoii Jiwxepaxype,” in which Dostoevskii focuses his criticism of the

Europeans on the French, especially those Frenchmen who have written about

Russian culture. Dostoevskii finds that these French authors choose not to transcend

their perspectival limitations, allowing their cultural prejudices to dominate their

5ln the Soviet academy edition of Dostoevskii’s collected works, Tunimanov also gives evidence of this anti-Western rhetoric by citing Dostoevskii’s April 13, 1856 letter to A. E. Vrangel’ in which Dostoevskii describes his own work on a political pamphlet (non-extant) criticizing the anti-Russian policies of England and France (II: 520).

79 narratives: “o h [^paH uya] eme b napwace 3Haji, ht<5 HanwuieT o Pocchm ; aa)Ke,

noxajiyti, HanwuieT ceoe nyTeinecTBMe b IlapHace, eme npexae noesaKM b

PoccMK), npoaacT ero KHwronpoitaBuy h y x e h o to m npwejteT k navi” (“he [the

Frenchman] already knew in Paris what he would write about Russia: he even

probably will write about his travels in Paris, even before his trip to Russia, will give

it to a bookseller and only then will come to us”; XVIII: 44).^ Following this

general critique of French travelogues, Dostoevskii particularly mocks Alexandre

Dumas’s Impression de Voyages en Russie for its trivial understanding of Russian

culture/ Dostoevskii will later re-introduce his evaluation of Dumas’s travel

impressions when criticizing Prosper Mérimée’s dramatic scenes depicting the

caMoaeaneH (pretender) from the Time of Troubles. In an effort to discredit

Mérimée’s portrayal of Russian culture, Dostoevskii will associate Mérimée’s

dramatic scenes with this superficial travelogue created by Dumas. In introducing

Mérimée’s Le Faicc Démétrius within the context of this critique of French culture,

Dostoevskii denies the translatability of Russian culture to European nations.*

^This general critique of French travelogues about Russia and Dostoevskii’s description of Merimcc’s “La Gouzla” irt a 1877 entry of ^HemuK nucameMt {Diary of a Writer}, in which EJostoevskii accuses the author of fabricating the song about the Slavs, suggest that Dostoevskii’s critique of French travelogues remains a standard, generic accusation that Dostoevskii launches against French writers who address Slavic themes. A. V. Arkhipova’s notes toMneenuK nucame.is in the Soviet academy edition of Dostoevskii’s works, disprove Dostoevskii’s assertions concerning Merimée’s “La Gouzla" (XXV: 374-75).

7For a detailed discussion of French travelogues that Dostoevskii criticizes, see Tunimanov’s notes to the Soviet academy edition of Dostoevskii’s works (XVIII: 252-3).

8Emerson uses this term translatability in relation to her concept of transposition, i.e. the “translatability of narrative” across genre boundaries {Boris Godunov, 3). Here, I use the term translatability to refer to the transcendence of cultural barriers.

80 On the other hand, Dostoevskii cites Pushkin’s Bopuc rodynoe as further

evidence of Pushkin’s formative role in the creation of a common Russian cultural

identity owing to the fact that “oh [IlyinKMH] ecxb nojiueiimee Bbipaxenne

HanpaBJieHMH, hhcthhktob m noTpeôHocTeü pyccKoro ayxa b aaHHUM

MCTopMHecKMM momcht ’’ (“hc [Pushkin] is the fullest expression of the direction,

instincts, and needs of the Russian spirit at the present historical moment": XVIII:

99). In order to substantiate his claim regarding Pushkin’s lasting contribution to

Russian cultural consciousness, Dostoevskii counters the critiques of his

contemporaries like N. A. Dobroliubov and S. S. Dudyshkin who both limit

Pushkin’s significance to a poetic and aesthetic legacy of dubious relevance “b

TenepemneM oômecTBe’’ (“in present-day society”: XVni: 69).^ In his 1860 article,

“CxMXOTBopeHHJi HaaHa HHKMXMHa’’(“The Poems of Ivan Nikitin”), Dobroliubov

appreciates Pushkin’s attention to detail when realistically portraying nature in his

poetry, but otherwise, Dobroliubov characterizes Pushkin’s oeuvre as outdated

because of its tendency toward poetic flight and its lack of utilitarian focus:

“IIpoHXHxe Bcero IlyuiKMHa, JlepMOHxoaa, nonxM Bcex coBpeMenabix nooxoa:

MHoro JIM Hawitexe Bbi y hmx aajtyuieBHbix sByxoB, BbisBaHHbix npocxbiMH,

HacyiuHbiMM noxpeôHocxHMM acM3HM?” (“Read all of Pushkin, Lermontov, and

^Tunimanov summarizes Dobroliubov’s arguments with Dostoevskii (XVIII: 280-81 ) and offers a comparative analysis of criticism on Pushkin in the Russian journals of the 1860s, including Dudyshkin s smdies and M. N. Katkov’s series of articles on Pushkin (XIX: 231-35).

81 almost all the modem poets: Will you find a lot of heartfelt sounds, evoked by

simple, vital necessities of life?”; VI: 165).

Dostoevskii challenges Dobroliubov’s criticism of Pushkin by concluding that

Pushkin’s rootedness in a previous era of Russian history does not preclude his

significance for Dostoevskii’s contemporaries. Rather, Dostoevskii concludes that

Pushkin’s writing during such a formative period for Russian national identity leads

to his lasting contribution to Russia culture. For example, Pushkin’s legacy from

EaeenuCi OneziiH was his creation of historical types which embody nineteenth-

century Russian culture as well as his formation of the Russian national language:

JHa rae x e w Koraa xax anoJiHe BwpasHJiacb pyccKan xn3Hb xofi 3noxM, KaK B XMne OneriiHa? Bettb 3xo xnn McxopwqecKMM... OHerwH MMCHHo npMHaitJiexwx k xofi 3noxe HauieM ncxopwHecKoM xh3hm, Korua uyxb He snepBbie HauHHaexcH Haute xoMMxejibHoe coauaHwe w name xoMHxejibHoe HenoyMeHwe, BCJieucxBwe 3x0 ro coanaHHsi, npw B3rjisme Kpyrow. K 3xoM 3Uoxe oxHocMxcJt H HBJieuwe nytuKMua, m uoxowy-xo oh nepBbiM w saroBopHii caMocxojixejibHbiM m co3Hame.ibHbtM pyccKMM aabiKOM (XIX:10).io

Indeed, where and when was Russian life of that epoch so completely manifested than in the type of Onegin? After all, this is a historical type...Onegin belongs precisely to that epoch of our historical life, when almost for the first time our agonizing consciousness and our agonizing perplexity, on accotmt of this consciousness, begins by looking around. The phenomenon of Pushkin is attributed to this epoch, and that is why he first spoke in an independent and consciously Russian language.

•ODostoevskii’s description of fhishkin’s development of the Russian language continues Katkov’s discussion (in the second article of his series on Pushkin) of the national poet’s contribution to Russian culture. In contrast to Katkov (who credits Karamzin with much of the development of the literary language) and as testimony to his belief in Pushkin’s uniqueness, Dostoevskii attributes the linguistic innovation entirely to Pushkin (319).

82 Thus, Dostoevskii associates Pushkin’s oeuvre with the development of a Russian

national consciousnes, an idea which he clarifies in the third article of his series “Pna

CTaxew o pyccKoii JinTepaxype" in a detailed discussion of Pushkin’s cultural

importance. Dostoevskii challenges Dudyshkin s doubts, published in his 1861

article “PyccKan Jiwxepaxypa” (“Russian Literature”), regarding Pushkin’s

translatability to the contemporary Russian populace. In an attempt to answer

Dudyshkin, Dostoevskii introduces Pushkin’s historical drama, Bopuc Fodynoe, as

proof of Pushkin’s relevance to Russian contemporary culture.

When Dostoevskii commented on Mérimée’s and Fhishkin’s dramas as a part

of his promotion of Russian cultural narratives, Dostoevskii remained very critical of

Merimée’s drama because, as in the case of Dumas’s travelogue, the drama is not

reflective of Russian culture. Merimée earned the reputation of a Russophile in

France because of his familiarity with Russian culture as evidenced by his French

translations of Russian literature including: Pushkin’s “ITHKOBajt jjaivia” (1849),

UueoHU {The Gypsies [1852]), and “BwcxpeJi” ("The Shot" [1856]) as well as

Gogol ”s Mepmeue dyiuu {DeadSouls [1853]) and Peeuaop {The Inspector General

[ 1 8 5 3 ] ) . Indeed, even Dostoevskii admits Mérimée’s knowledge of Russian

history, saying Mérimée “anaex itaxe apesHtoto namy [pyccKyio] Hcxopnio”

(“even knows our ancient [Russian] history XVni: 48). Here, Dostoevskii echoes

11 However, when Merimée characterized Gogol’ as a mediocre satirist in his 1851 article (used by F. V. Bulgarin in a critique of the Natural School), "La littérature en Russie. Nicolas Gogol, ” the French author led some Russian critics to doubt his ability to comprehend Russian culture. For a summary of Merimée’s article on Gogol’, see the introduction to A. D. Mikhailov’s bibliography of Merimée scholarship in Russia (20-22).

83 the sentiments of A. Zemin, who in 1858 reviewed Merimée's acclaimed history of

the Time of Troubles, Épisode de l'histoire de Russie. Les Faux Démétrius, for

BuÔ.iuomeKü d.ta nmenua (Library for Reading).^~ In this article, Zemin concludes

that Merimée’s history demonstrated a familiarity with the most of the works by

prominent Russian historians such as N. M. Karmazin, N. G. Ustrialov, and S. M.

Solov’ev. Dostoevskii’s comments conceming Mérimée’s knowledge of Russian

history show that he recognizes the extensive research that Mérimée completed before

writing his historical drama about the Time of Troubles.*^

Mérimée’s Time of Troubles drama Les Faux Démétrius (published in Revue

des Mondes in 1852), on the other hand, eams Dostoevskii’s criticism, since he feels

that Mérimée’s drama demonstrates that the French are incapable of understanding

Russian culture:

Bbi coBepmeHHO Hnuero b nac ne anaeje, — nosTopMJiu Gbi m u HM, — HecMOTpn Ha t o , h t o Bam Mepnue anaer jiaxce apeBHtoto Hamy Hcropnio h nanHcaji u t o - t o apoae naqajia ttpaMU «Le Faux Démétrius», na KOTopon, BnpoueM, c t o jib k o x e m o x h o yauarb o pyccKOM MCTopHM, KaK M M3 «Mapt^bi flocaitHMUbi» KapaMaHHa” (XVUI: 48).

You know absolutely nothing about us—we would have repeated to them,— in spite of the fact that your Mérimée even knows our ancient history and wrote something like the beginning of a drama. Les Faux

I-Tunimanov. in the notes to "Pna craTed o pyccKoA JiHTeparype." suggests that Dostoevskii was most likely acquainted with Mérimée’s historical texts through A. Zemin’s review which included scenes from the drama alongside its criticism of Mérimée’s historical work (XVUI: 256).

l^Mérimée’s bibliography to Episode de l'histoire de Russie. Les Faux Démétrius includes Russian histories. Karamzin’s history. Russian chronicles, eye-witness accounts, and several Western sources.

84 Démétrius, from which, however, one can leam as much about Russian history as one can from Karamzin’s “Marfa the Governor."

By comparing the historical fiction of these two well-respected historians, Dostoevskii

emphasizes that their vast historical knowledge did not necessary translate well into

their fiction, whose historical acciuacy was called into question.*'* Indeed, although

Dostoevskii does not elaborate on the historical flaws in Mérimée’s dramatic scenes.

Les FaiLX Démétrius's many divergences from the cannonical Karamzinian and

Pushkinian accounts of the Time of Troubles (both recognized as authoritative by

Dostoevskii) would have troubled Dostoevskii. For example, Mérimée eliminates

from Pushkin’s drama the character whom Dostoevskii greatly admires as a national

Russian character—the chronicler-monk Pimen, who describes the fate of the

tsarevich Dimitrii. Instead of Pimen, one of the tsarevich’s murderers narrates the

account of the tsarevich’s death to a Cossack Yourii who, learning of his physical

I'^Karamzin’s tale has a historical heroine but is rather historically inaccurate and “makes only feeble attempts at historical stylization" (Terras, A History o f Russian LiteraturelSS). Mérimée’s drama is also only loosely based on historical information, which leads A. W. Raitt in a biography of the author to conclude that whereas the history is “a historical account of his [the False Dimitrii's] later career," the drama is a “fictional recreation of the first impostor’s early years” (266). A. W. Raitt also suggests that the lack of available historical information about the pretender’s early years thwarted Mérimée’s attempt to recreate a historically-based drama about his early years (286). Consequently, Raitt concludes that the drama served merely as “blatant advertisement” for the history (266).

•^Emerson’s Boris Godunov discusses the prominence of Karamzin’s and Pushkin’s works in nineteenth-century Russian culture: “If Karamzin served as the historical source for innumerable poeticizations’ in the nineteenth century, then Pushkin became the poetic source for later and equally numerous transpositions” (9). For a survey of such “poeticizations” and “transpositions" see Emerson’s “Pretenders to History.” Boris Godunov, and Modest Musorgsky and Boris Godunov as well as O. A. Derzhavina’s JJpesHSH Pycb a pyccKou .tumepamype XIX aéra. {Ancient Bus' in Russian Literature o f the 19th Century). For a comparison of Pushkin’s and Merimée’s dramas, see V. I. Kuleshov’s JIumepamypHue cessu Poccuu u sanadnou Eeponu e XIX eeKa (Literary Connections Between Russia and Western Europe in the I9th Century, 378-80).

85 similarities to the deceased tsarevich, assumes the identity of the tsarevich, renaming himself Dmitri Ivanof.

Yet, rather than describe Mérimée’s inattention to historical detail, Dostoevskii merely reiterates his stock criticism of French depictions of Russian culture by asserting that Mérimée’s literary work about Russia has more in common with the biography of his fellow countryman, Dumas, than with Russian historical events:

“3aMenaTe;ibHo, mto cavi «Le Faux Démétrius» Bwmeji y Hero yxcacHO noxoxc

Ha AjieKcaHjipa HioMa, ne na repojt poviaHa AJieKcanjpa /lioMa, ho na cavtoro iltoNia, HacTonmero, wapKwaa Davis de la Pailletterie" (“It is remarkable that Le

FaiLx Démétrius itself appeared terribly similar to Alexandre Dumas, not to a hero of

Alexandre Dumas’s novel, but to Dumas himself, the real Marquis Davis de la

Pailletterie’’: XVIII: 48). Tunimanov’s notes to Dostoevskii’s article suggest that this reference to Dumas père is intended to remind the reader of the court proceeding involving the French author, thereby discrediting Merimée by association with a well- publicized scandal involving another Frenchman (XVIII: 257). In addition,

Dostoevskii’s invocation of Dumas’s biography in connection with Merimée’s historical drama refers to his previous discussion of Dumas’s travelogue in which he mocks Dumas’s dreams of romantic adventures in the South of Russia:

3axeM nyTetuecTBeHHHK tipomaercH c Mockbom, eaex aajiee, BOCXHUiaeTCH pyCCKMMM XpOMKaMH H UOHBJIJieTCH HaKOHeu rjte- HHôyab Ha KaBxaae, rae BMecre c pyccKMMH njiacryHaMM cTpejiHer uepxecoB, cbouht anaKOMCXBO c tUaMHJieM m uMxaeT c HMM «TpexMymxexepoB» (XVUI: 45).

86 Then the traveler bids farewell to Moscow, goes further, is enchanted with Russian troikas and finally appears somewhere in the Caucasus, where together with Russian Cossack infantrymen he shoots at Circassians, makes an acquaintance with Shamil, and reads The Three Musketeers with him.

Hence. Dostoevskii suggests that the French traveler, associated here with Dumas,

does not wish to know anything of Russia beyond Moscow and therefore makes a

pre-packaged tour of the Caucasus complete with troikas and encounters with

legendary figures. This cursory knowledge of rural Russia and these romantic

impressions of heroic personages in the Caucasus are also apparent in Merimée’s

drama in his depiction of the pretender, who is portrayed as a Ukrainian Cossack.*^

Merimée Idealizes his Cossack Yourii as a popular pretender (in a manner similar to

his positive portrayal of the rebels Bogdan Khmielnitski and Stenka Razin in Les

Cosaques d’autre fois [1865]) who upholds the rights of the people against the tyrant

Boris Godunov. The drama’s structure which follows Yourii’s pretendership from

its germination in the South of Russia through its development in Uglich, Moscow,

Lithuania, and Poland parallels the plot structure of the type of travel-adventure

narrative for which Dostoevskii criticizes Dumas. Thus, Dostoevskii dismisses

Mérimée *s Les Faux Démétrius with little comment because of its ressemblance to

another French narrative and because of its dissimilarity to other Russian narratives,

such as Pushkin’s Eopuc Fodynoe, which he finds more representative of Russian

culture.

l<5Such depictions display Mérimée’s interest in “the legendary aura of history” characteristic of his Russian historical works (Raitt 289).

87 In his discussion of Bopuc Fodynoe in “Pa;i cTareu o pyccKon

jiMTcpaType,” Dostoevskii establishes Pushkin’s drama as a significant cultural

narrative because of its embodiment of Hapodnocmb (the national character) in a

literary form which will help define Russian cultural identity. As with Mérinîee,

Dostoevskii does not primarily dwell on the accuracy of historical representation in

Pushkin’s drama, but admires what he defines as Pushkin’s concept of

"nooTHMecKan npaeaa":

JXa xoTb 6bi H Tax, BCKpuKHBaeTe bw b yflMBJieHwu; Heyateaw nyuiKMHCKMw jiexonMceu, xoxb 6 u h sbwyMaHHbiM, — nepecxaex 6bixb BepHbiM apeBHepyccKMM anuoM? Heyacejiu b h o m Hex ojiewenxoB pyccKOM ;k m 3hm m Hapo^HOCXH, noxoviy h x o o h McxopwHecKM HeBepen? A nooxwHecxaa npasaa? (XIX: 9).

Is it possible, you exclaim in astonishment, that the Pushkinian chronicler-monk, even if he is fictitious, stops being a true Old Russian personage? Is it possible that in him there are no elements of Russian life and national character because he is historically untrue? And poetic truth?

Dostoevskii here explains that Pushkin’s portrayal of Pimen in terms indicative of the national character allows Dostoevskii to call Pimen a historical personage in the sense that he embodies what it was to be Russian during a certain era of Russia’s past.

Armed with this theory of “nooxMHecKaa npanna,” Dostoevskii challenges

Dudyshkin’s criticism of Pushkin, a criticism based on Pushkin’s failure to prioritize historical rather than aesthetic concerns in the creation of Bopuc Fodynoe.

Dudyshkin’s emphasis on Pushkin’s aesthetics draws him to the conclusion that the drama is just as likely regulated by “npHSHaK BbicmeH xydooicecmeeHHOcmu" (“the

88 hallmark of the highest artistic value”) in the form of Shakespearean dramatic norms

as by Pushkin’s concern for the development of the national character (139).

Dostoevskii’s challenge to Dudyshkin and his discussion of "noornuecKaa npaeita”

show that both aesthetic and historical concerns remain central to the drama’s

importance, since the artistic presentation of the fictitious Pimen does not negate his

cultural relevance. Indeed, Dostoevskii clarifies how Pushkinian characters gain

cultural significance owing to their embodiment of the Russian spirit since “m

Aemonucen...n Orpenfaee, m Ilyraues, n nampuapx, w mhokm, n BejiKWH, m

OuerMH, M TaxbJiHa — see o t o Pycb n pyccKoe” (“the chronicler-monk...

Otrep’ev, Pugachev, the patriarch, the monks, Belkin, Onegin, and Tat’iana—all this

is Rus’ and Russian”; my italics, XIX: 15). Later, in the article “IIpMMeqaHMH k

craxbe /I. B. ABepKneea «SnaueHMe OcrpoBCKoro b Hamew jntrepaType»”

(“Notes to D. V. Averkiev’s article ‘The Significance of Ostrovskii in our

literature’”) which was published in an 1864 edition of Snoxa, Dostoevskii further

explains what he understands as Pushkin’s portrayal of Russianness:

IlymKMH yraitaji cawyio ocHOBHyio cyxb xoro, h x o napoa nam cuHxaa M cHMxaex 3a caviyio Bbicmyro HpaBcxBeHHyra xpacoxy ayuiM (teaoBe^ecKOK: oxo — XHXoe, KpoxKoe, cnoKofiHoe (HenoKoae6wMoe) cMwpeHHoaioÔMe — ecan xax m o x h o Bbipa3MXbCH...3xOK) KpOXKOK), CMWpeHHOK) M HMHeM He noKoae6MM0K) aioSoBbio npoHMKnyxa y IlymKMHa pyccxaa peub b PoayHOBe (XX: 229).

l^Dostoevskii made these comments while criticizing A. N. Ostrovskii’s historical drama about the Time of Troubles Ko3bMa SaxaptuH MuHun-CyxopyK {Koz’ma Zakharych MininSukoruk), which was published in the January 1862 edition of CoepeMCHHUK (The Contemporary).

89 Pushkin divined the most fundamental essence of that which our Russian populace regarded and regards as the highest moral beauty of the human soul: that is the quiet, gentle, calm, and steadfast selfless- love—if one can so call it...The Russian speech in Pushkin’s Godunov is filled with this gentle, humble, and unwavering, love.

It is therefore Pushkin’s ability to express the essence of the Russian populace—this selfless-love—that attracts Dostoevskii to the historical drama, Bopuc Fodynoe.

In this respect, Dostoevskii’s evaluation of the cultural relevance of Pushkin’s

Bopuc Fodynoe does not center on the drama’s transmission of historical data but on its contribution to the formation of the nineteenth-century Russian national consciousness. Consequently, Dostoevskii primarily emphasizes Pushkin’s expression of "nooTMuecxaa npanfla,” i.e., his ability to translate historical knowledge into a cultural narrative that can encourage the development of a national cultural identity which will unite the various strata of Russian society. Because

Dostoevskii believes that Mérimée, as a French writer, necessarily creates from a

Einopean cultural perspective, Dostoevskii rejects his Time of Troubles drama, less for its lack of verifiable historical facts than for its claimed similarities to Dumas’s travelogue. Dostoevskii’s varying impressions of the two dramas therefore suggests that authorial cultural identity remains an important factor in Dostoevskii’s appreciation of historical narratives about the Time of Troubles, since it is Pushkin’s

Russianness that enables him to embody the national Russian spirit in Bopuc rodynoe and Merimee’s French nationality that precludes him from understanding the

Russian culture. Dostoevskii’s analysis of these Time of Troubles dramas

90 demonstrates his support for a nationalist aesthetic whereby literature is evaluated according to the author’s national identity and the way in which this identity informs his/ her writings.

3.3

Dostoevskii’s Anti-Polish Sentiment and Chaev’s CaMoaeaneu,

Following his initial identification of Time of Troubles narratives with the development of Russian national identity, Dostoevskii continued to develop the connection between Hapodnocmb and narratives about the seventeenth-century historical conflict. However, owing to the change in geopolitical circumstances, i.e., the increased Russo-Polish tensions stemming from the Russian suppression of 1863

January Uprising, Dostoevskii’s dialogue with these narratives began to draw attention to the “other-ness” of the Poles (instead of the French) vis-à-vis the

Russians. Indeed, after the Polish insurrection, Polish history (particularly as it pertained to Russia) became a favorite topic of the Dostoevskii brothers’ journals

Bpe.HH and 3noxa. Just as M. P. Pogodin and N. I. Kostomarov published timely historical studies of Russo-Polish relations in the 1860s, so too did the Dostoevskii brothers include articles about the history of tensions between Russia and Poland in their journals. ‘ ^ As part of Snoxa's strong criticism of Poland’s revolutionary activities, N. A. Chaev’s historical dxdxaa. MuMumpuü CaMoseanen was published on

I^See the introduction fora discussion of Pogodin’s and Kostomarov’s studies (18-21).

91 the pages of the journal in 1865, since the patriotic drama served as a reminder of a

time when a Polish-sponsored revolutionary ultimately failed in his attempts to de­

stabilize and to Polonize Russia.

3noxa's frequent advocation for Russian reforms in Poland was partially

motivated by the Dostoevskii brothers’ attempt to protect their second journal from

the fate of Bpe.Hn, which was shut down by the tsarist censors in 1863 for

publishing what the censors believed was an article in support of the Polish

uprising—N. N. Strakhov’s “P o k o b o H Bonpoc. SaMexKa no noBoay noJibCKoro

Bonpoca” (“The Fateful Question. A Notice Regarding the Polish Question”). It is

owing to this experience with their fust journal, that Nechaeva, in XCypna.^ M. M. u

0 . M. MocmoeecKux «3noxa» {M. M. and F. M. Dostoevskii's Journal Epoch), says

of the Dostoevskii brothers’ 3no.xa: “Kax b b h o crapajiacb peaaxuMR aamwTMTbCH

ox BOSBeaeHHbix Ha nee o6BMHeHHM b nojioHH3Me, aHXHnaxpH0XM3Me m

BoccxanoBHXb aosepwe k ce6e npasMxejibcxBa” (“how the editorial staff

obviously tried to protect itself from the accusations of Polonism and anti-patriotism

leveled against it and to restore the govenunent’s confidence in the staff’; 72). This

is most apparent in 3no.xa's series of articles entitled “Hamn ttoMatnHwe aeaa”

(“Our Domestic Affairs”) which consistently supports the Russian government’s

recent suppression of dissent in the Kingdom of Poland and remains highly critical of

t^For further information on the dosing of the Dostoevskii brothers’ first journal, see Nechaeva’s study of Bpe.H.i (288-313). For Dostoevskii’s impressions of Strakhov’s article, read his letter to I. S. Turgenev on June 17, 1863 (XXVUIii 33-35).

92 those European countries who tried to interfere in what Snoxa characterizes as a

domestic conflict. For example, in the November 1864 edition of 3noxa, the author

of “Hamw itoMaiuHwe ;tejia”"° links the need for Russia’s presence in the Kingdom

of Poland to the necessity of enforcing the 1861 decree liberating the serfs and of

ameliorating the living conditions of these newly-freed serfs:"*

KTO B 3TOM ncjie, o KOTopoM MjieT y Hac peHb, cTaji Bnepean na nyTM MwpoBoro ycnexa — natna-JiH npaBnxejibCTBeHHan Mepa, yxce BJiMBiuaHCH xcmbotbophoü cxpyeR b MUJiJinoHHHe Maccw, MJiM B3rjijijtbi npocBetiteHHbix MHoaevmoB, yxcacaromwxcsi sa «MHTepecbi apncTOKpaxMM?..»

who in this business of which we are speaking came out ahead on the way to world success—our government measure, which has already infused the million masses with life-giving spirit or the views of the enlightened foreigners who are terrified for the “interests of the aristocracy” (4).

This association of the Polish aristocracy with the West and the general populace in

Poland with Russia thereby justifies Russia’s new reforms in Poland limiting the

rights of the szlachta (Polish aristocracy) in favor of the Polish masses. As further

evidence of the necessity of Russia’s direct intervention in the Kingdom of Poland’s

local affairs. 3noxa examines the history of Poland for evidence of the szlachta's

abuse of its own peasantry in articles such as “^x o xaxoe nojibCKwe BoccxaHHJt?”

(“What are the Polish Uprisings?”) and “McxopwjinojibCKoro BoccxaHwa u bo Khm

20in her study of 3noxa, Nechaeva identifies A. U. Poretskii as the author of this article but assumes that Poretskii bases his suppositions on information that the editors were receiving from A. E. Razin. one of their correspondents in Poland (71).

21 For a discussion of the connection between the liberation of the serfs in the Russian territories and the Polish Question, see the introduction (18-19).

93 1830 H 1831 roaoB" (“A History of the Polish Uprising and the War of 1830-31”)-

These articles depict a divided nation whose upper classes, including the szlachta and

the clergy (especially the Jesuits), with the help of the West systematically oppressed

the lower classes. On this basis, the author of “H to raKoe noJibCKwe BOccxaHMJi?”

defends the recent Russian military occupation of the Polish lands on behalf of the

Polish populace, since the Western powers had long been interfering in Poland’s

internal affairs (1-2: 404).”

As Nechaeva’s study of 3noxa indicates, the Dostoevskii brothers also

published works of fiction—la. P. Polonskii’s Pasjiad. Cnenu U3 noc.iedneeo

no.ibCKoeo eoccmaHiiH. {Disorder. Scenes from the Latest Polish Uprising.) and

Chaev’s JJuMumpuü CaMoseaneu,—as part of their journal’s criticism of the

szlachta: “In these works the Polish szlachta is sharply criticized and the patriotism

of the Russian populace is highly esteemed” (72). For example, in Chaev’s play, it is

the characters belonging to the Polish gentry, including Dimitrii’s wife Marina and

her father the governor Mnishek, as well as the Catholic priest, Chemikovskii, who

support Dimitrii’s claim to the throne. Indeed, Chaev underscores the foreignness of

these Polish characters through linguistic stratification by placing Latin words in the

mouth of Chemikovskii and Polish words in the speech of Marina and her father."^

—Nechaeva concludes that Razin authors this article, since he was well-versed in Polish matters as may be ascertained from Nechaeva’s analysis of his work with 3noxa (68-70; 73-75).

23As S. S. Danilov discusses, Chaev’s dramas were celebrated for their attention to historical and linguistic detail: "His [Chaev’s] plays were repleted with archaisms, dialectal variants, and Polonisms, underscored by difficult syntactic formations and documented use of popular song” (385).

94 In addition, as the Russian revolutionary, Dimitrii, becomes more attached to the

Poles in his court, he begins to use Latin and Polish with increasing frequency. The

Polonization of the Russian court thus appears complete at the commencement of the

final act since Dimitrii opens the fifth act with a toast entirely in Polish and since the

Polish governor Mnishek openly insists that the courtiers should leam Polish.

However, the Russian courtiers quietly object to this Polish presence in Russia, and

Shuiskii ultimately draws upon the Russian nationalist (Orthodox) sentiment in order

to solidify his power base: “IlpaBocjiaBHOM Bepe Haiuew Bcaxoe nopyraHwe

HMHHTCH, B KpeviJie, noitJie cbhtwhm, jiaTUHCKyio ofiertHto hoiot: uapb Ha

HexpeuioHOM nojiHUKe xceHMjicn, n npMHamaJi, n na uapcTBO Benqaji ee He

OKpecTMBUiM” (“Every humiliation to our Orthodox faith is committed in the

Kremlin; near the sacred place, they sing the Latin Mass: the tsar married an unbaptized Polish woman, gave her communion, and even crowned her without having baptized her”; 73). With this appeal to the Russian populace, Shuiskii and the

Hapod break into the tsar’s palace and successfully challenge Dimitrii, thus liberating

Russia from the threat of Polish (Roman Catholic) rule.

Considering Dostoevskii brothers’ publication of ^UMumpuü CoMoseanen fai light of Snoxa's criticism of the 1863 Polish uprising, it becomes clear that this illustration of the seventeenth-century Russo-Polish conflict may serve to identify the

Time of Troubles as a historical predecessor to the nineteenth-century political unrest

95 fomented by Poles in the Russian territories."'^ Moreover, Chaev’s depiction of

Russians—both the napod and the representatives from the boiar families—united

against a Polish (specifically aristocratic and Catholic) threat in ffuMumpuu

CaMOseaneii supported Fedor Dostoevskii’s efforts to advance a socio-political

program of Russian cultural unity. In fact, it is their shared view of Russian history

that first drew Dostoevskii to Chaev as he writes his brother in March 1864 soon

after meeting Chaev: “Oh [Haea] oneHb saHHwaeTca wcTopiiew pyccKow. K

yaoBOJibCTBMK) Moewy, a yBwaeji, mto mu coBepmeHHo corjiacHU bo Bsrjiaae na

pyccKyio MCTopmo” (“He [Chaev] studies Russian history a lot. To my delight, I

saw that we were in complete agreement on our views on Russian history” XXVIIIii:

71). In a summary of Chaev’s historical drama, AjieKcandp TeepcKod (Aleksandr

Tverskoi), Dostoevskii again praises Chaev’s knowledge of Russian history: “Haes

— HejiOBeK o6pa30BaHHbi# w cmucjimt pyccKyio McxopwK). OcxpoBCKHM

CKaaaji, hto apaMaxMSMa Hex, ho hxo oxo xponuKa. a cxmxm npexpacHbte h

ecxb yaaHHwe cttenu” (“Chaev is an educated man and understands Russian

history. Ostrovskii said that the play lacks dramatic quality, but that this is a

chronicle and the verses are excellent and there are some successful scenes’*;

2‘^It is important to note that since Russians viewed the Kingdom of Poland merely as the Western territories of Russia, they did not view Poland as a separate nation. The szlachta. however, were still specifically associated with a historically independent Polish nation.

96 XXvin, 2: 85-6),^ Based on the nationalist historiography represented in Chaev’s

JJuMumpiiu CoMoaeaneu, and on Dostoevskii’s approval of this historical approach

(both explicitly from his letters and the implicitly from the publication of Chaev’s

drama), it is likely that Dostoevskii approved of the drama’s depiction of the Time of

Troubles. Since Chaev’s stratification of the Polish aristocrats and the Russians is

also indicative of 3no.xa's descriptions of nineteenth-century Russo-Polish relations,

it is possible to conclude that Chaev’s drama supported Dostoevskii’s efforts in the

1860s to cultivate a Russian national identity independent of any Western influence,

including of the szlachta.

3.4

French and Polish Challengers to Rodion Raskol nikov

Dostoevskii expressed this xenophobic sentiment in his own fiction in his first

novel following the Polish uprising, a novel on which Dostoevskii was already

working when he published Chaev’s ^UMumpuii CaMoaeaneu,} ^ In

ripecmyn.ieHue u HaKaaamie , Dostoevskii introduces satirical portrayals of Poles

25Although appreciating Chaev’s attention to historic detail, Danilov also confirms Ostrovskii’s criticism fay affirming that "Cfaaev’s historical chronicles from the point of dramaturgy are highly primitive" (385).

25fn the commentary to flpecmyiuteHue u HaKaaanue in Dostoevskii’s collected works, L. D. Opul'skaia writes that, already in September of 1863, A. P. Suslova noted the philosophical germination of Dostoevskii’s novel but that he probably began the writing process in the first half of 1865 (VII: 308-9).

97 who are frequently depicted as a uniform ethnic group.^ For example, the narrator

describes only one nameless Polish individual, “KaKoH-xo xcajiKwK nojijmox”

(“some pitiful Polack”) who ingratiatingly helps Katerina Ivanovna and then invites to

the funeral feast (in honor of Semen Marmeladov) “xaKHx-To unyx apyrnx

nOJIHHKOB, KOTOpbie BOBCe HHKOraa H He XCHJIH y AviaJIMM MBaHOBHbl H

KOTopbix HMKTO ao CMx oop B Hywepax He BHitaji” (“some two other Polacks who

had never lived at Amaliia Ivanovna’s at all and whom until now no one had seen in

those rooms”: VI: 291, 293). The narrator’s tone, partially translated by his repetitive

use of "KaKOH-TO ” as well as the derogatory portrayal of the “nojumoK,” emphasizes

the Poles as outsiders to and parasites on Russian society. Porfirii Petrovich, the

police investigator, differentiates between the Russian and Polish nationalities in his

second discussion with Raskol’nikov when Porfirii Petrovich outlines the psychology

of a Russian criminal whose tortured conscience will not allow him to escape

punishment: “/la nycTb, nycxb ero noryjinex noxa, nycxb: ft neab h 6c3 xoro

3Haro, HXO OH MOJt «epxBOHKa M HMxyaa He ySexcwx ox m o h h ! /(a m xyaa eviy

y6e)xaxb, xe-xet 3a rpanwuy, h x o jih ? 3a rpanimy h o jih k yôexcMX, a He

O H ...” (“Yes let him, let him walk around for a while: after all, I already know that

he is my victim and that he will never escape me. Really, where could he escape to,

ha-ha! Abroad, maybe? A Pole will escape abroad, but not he...”; VI: 262).

-^Zbigniew Zakiewicz notes Dostoevskii’s tendency to de-individualize Poles in both MzpoK (The Gambler) and flpecmyn-ieHue u HaKosanue: “In these novels, Poles become a nameless mass, depicted as a collective with invariable traits’’ (84).

98 Porfîrirs assertion that a Pole can escape Ms pangs of conscience by fleeing abroad

intimates both that Poles, as a nation, are less attached to their homeland than

Russians and that a Pole, unlike a Russian (specifically Raskol’nikov), may succeed

in believing that he is a Napoleon, a “HeoôbiKHOBeHHbiiî qeJioeeK,” (“extraordinary

man”) who “caM MMeeT npaao paapeniMXbcboch coBecTW nepemarHyTb.. .wepea

MHbie npenHTCTBMH...ecjiM McnojiHeHwe ero Hflew (wHorjta cnacMTejibHoii,

MOJKer 6biTb, iiJiH Bcero uejioBeqecTBa) xoro noxpefiyex” (“himself has the right

to allow his conscience to transgress certain obstacles...if the fulfillment of his idea

(perhaps an idea for salvation, maybe for all of humanity) demands it”: VI: 199).

Dostoevskii’s choice of Napoleon as his Western villain also introduces

UpecmyrLieHue u HOKasaHue to the historical figure of Napoleon Bonaparte whose

revolutionary ideals inspired the Poles to fight for their independence from Russia in

1812, 1831, and 1863. Furthermore, L. D. Opul’skaia’s suggestion that

Dostoevskii’s image of Napoleon draws on the historical personages of both

Napoleon Bonaparte and Napoleon III establishes an even more direct link between

Dostoevskii’s image of Napoleon and the Polish Uprising since Napoleon III

particularly supported the Polish insurgents in the 1860s, an alliance that angered

many Russian intellectuals including the author of the November 1864 article in

3noxa, “Hauiw aoMaumwe aejia” (VII: 337).“^ Thus, Dostoevskii’s image of

-^Joseph Frank explains that Dostoevskii’s image of Napoleon may also be informed by Napoleon III, since Napoleon Hi’s life of Julius Caesar had been “much discussed in the European and Russian press in 1865” (Dostoevsky: The Miraculous Years 74). Frank suggests this book as a source for Dostoevskii’s Napoleon since Napoleon Ill’s historical thesis resembled that of Dostoevskii’s

99 Napoleon contains both Dostoevsku^s animosity toward the French and the Poles

whose similar detachment toward criminal acts (as displayed by both Porfirii’s typical

Pole and Raskornikov’s Napoleon) joins representatives of two Western cultures

who come to represent the antithesis of the Russian hero Raskol nikov. Indeed,

Pushkin’s Eopuc f odynoe and Chaev’s JJuMumpuu CaMoseaneu, are embedded in

the narrative of UpecmynAenue u naKasanue insofar as Dostoevskii’s novel and

these historical dramas perceive a threat to Russian social stability in the form of a

foreign pretender.

Several scholars have pursued the Napoleonic connection between Pushkin’s

Bopuc rodynoe and flpecmyrLtenue u noKasanue as part of the recognition that

Dostoevskii drew on Pushkin’s oeuvre to create his image of Napoleon. For

example, Opul’skaia posits Pushkin’s Tsar Boris (because of the torment he suffers

over his role in the death of the tsarevich) as a possible predecessor to Dostoevskii’s

Napoleon who may also list Pushkin’s Germann with a Napoleonic profile

('TiHKOBaa aaMa”) and his St. Petersburg youth with Napoleonic ambitions

{Eeeenuù Oneeun) among Raskol’nikov’s literary ancestors."^ Also, M. P.

Alekseev, as evidence of the existence of Dostoevskii‘s early non-extant drama

{Bopuc Fodynoe), concludes that Raskol’nikov’s and Boris Godunov’s willingness

Napoleon, i.e., "the right of great historical figures to accomplish their world-transforming role unhampered by the narrow standards of conventional social morality” (74).

-^Opul'skaia provides a comparative analysis of several Pushkinian texts and Dostoevskii’s novels (VII: 343-5) while the fourth volume of Frank’s biography of Dostoevskii briefly discusses possible predecessors to Raskol nikov’s Napoleon (73-4).

100 to use violent means for the benefit of society testifies to the presence of Pushkin’s

Eopuc Fodynoe in Dostoevskii’s flpecmynAeHue u HaKasanue (52). R. N.

Poddubnaia furthers Raskol’nikov’s comparison to Boris Godunov by finding that

Raskol’nikov "preserves the spiritual-moral connections with that variant of ’majestic

pretendership’ which appeared in Pushkin’s dramaBoris Godunov" (37). Finally,

Emerson’s citation of Belinskii’s comparison of Napoleon and Boris Godunov (in his

tenth article on Pushkin) suggests that the connection between Raskol’nikov and

Boris Godunov may be established through a third party — Napoleon (’’Pretenders to

History” 258).

More important, several similarities between Raskol’nikov and Pushkin’s

Otrep’ev have been outlined by various studies. la. S. Bilinkis notes a general

thematic similarity between the drama and novel in Otrep’ev’s understanding of

’’crime” and ’’punishment”: “The pretender tries to deliver the inevitability of the

’punishment’ for the ’crime’ only for another—for Boris, as if he could deflect the

inevitability away from himself’ (168). More specifically, Alekseev, although

admitting to Raskol’nikov’s and Boris’s intellectual compatibility, concludes that

Raskol’nikov shares Otrep’ev's role as a self-congratulatory and self-appointed

benefactor of humanity (52). In addition, M. M. Bakhtin’s investigation of

Dostoevskii’s poetics, in particular his comparison of camivalization in Dostoevskii’s

novel and Pushkin’s drama, encourages scholarship analyzing the similarities between

Otrep’ev and Raskol’nikov. Bakhtin finds that Raskol’nikov’s dream in which he

101 envisions the murdered pawnbroker (as well as crowds of people) laughing at him

echoes Otrep’ev’s description of his own dream in which he stands atop a tower,

with Moscow at his feet: Bunsy uapoa ua njiomajtM KHneji/M na weua yKaauBaji

CO cwexoM (“Below the populace swarmed on the square/And, laughing, pointed at

me’’; VII: 19). Bakhtin concludes that the mockery of the crowd which both these personages endure, owing to their (self-)elevation and subsequent descent, links

Pushkin’s drama and Dostoevskii’s novel through carnival logic: “Here is the same carnival logic of self-appointedelevation, the communal act of comic decrowning on the public square, and a falling downward” (169). Building on Bakhtin’s analysis of

Raskol’nikov’s and Otrep’ev’s dreams, Podubnaia identifies further similarities between the protagonists’ dreams which both characters characterize as “npoKJUtTbie”

(“accursed”; 38).

Nevertheless, this scholarship detailing similarities between Raskol’nikov and

Otrep’ev does not account for Dostoevskii’s promotion of Time of Troubles dramas as national narratives that serve the extra-literary function of advancing national cultural identity. Dostoevskii’s equation of Fhishkin’s Bopuc Fodynoe with

“nooTKnecKan npanna,” owing to its Russian portrayal of important cultural personages, and his admiration of Chaev’s overtly nationalistic (anti-Polish) drama intimate that these historical narratives earn Dostoevskii’s respect for their positive portrayal of Russian culture, even to the denigration of the Polish nation. In the same way that Otrep’ev’s association with the Poles stimulates the napod's animosity in

102 Chaev’s JJiLHumpuü CoMoaeaneu, Raskol’mkov’s decision to follow the example of

Napoleon (who was a pretender to the French throne) by violating the norms of

society, i.e.. the injunction against murder, isolates Raskol’nikov from his fellow

Russians. Raskol nikov, in explaining his reluctance to confess to Sonia

Marmeladova, clarifies his contempt for other Russians, a contempt inherent in his

“ofibiKHOBeHHbiM uejiOBeK/ HeofibiKHOBeHHbiM MenoBex” (“ordinary man/

extraordinary man”) dichotomous social theory: “Mena xoabxo, auaeiub, nxo 3 j im x ?

Mue itocajiHO, nxo see 3xw rjiynwe, SBepcxne xapw oficxynax Mena ceKnac,

Gynyx najiwxb npawo na Mena c b o h Gypxajibi, saaasaxb viue c b o m raynwe

Bonpocbi, Ha Koxopwe HaaoôHo oxnenaxb” (“Do you know what angers me? I am annoyed that all these stupid, beastial mugs now crowd me, their eyes will aim right at me, will give me their stupid questions which it wil be necessary to answer”: VI:

403). Here, Raskol’nikov, like Otrep’ev, fears his inevitable decrowning before the mockery of the crowd because with the deprivation of power Raskol’nikov also loses all that separates him from the masses (Bakhtin 168-9). But in Siberia, as

Raskol’nikov begins to wrestle with the “Henpoxo^tMMan nponacxb” (“impassable abyss”) between himself and the other prisoners, he distances himself from the self- imposed isolation associated with his Napoleonic identity which is now attributed to the Polish exiles who “cHHxajiH secb 3xox jih d a sa Henexcjt h xjionos h npesMpajiM m x CBbicoKa” (“regarded all these people as ignoramuses and peasants and despised them with disdain”; VI: 418). Here, Dostoevskii’s portrayal of the

103 Poles reflects the Russian intelligentsia’s critique of Polish aristocrats’ relationship

with their own peasants since these exiles (most likely members of the szlachta sent

to Siberia for political reasons) disdainfully look at the other prisoners as “xjionu”

which is related to the Polish word for peasants—“chlopi.” Liberating himself from

the Napoleonic/Polish antagonism towards his fellow Russians (after his illness in

prison), Raskol’nikov finally becomes reconciled to Sonia and his fellow inmates.

Hence, his liberation from non-Russian (French/ Polish) influences is a prerequisite to

Raskol’nikov’s rapprochement with his fellow countrymen, a union which awakens

in him a belief in future possibilities for life in Russia through his love for Sonia.

Indeed, it is because of Sonia’s insistence that Raskol’nikov confess and repent of the

murder that he first learns to embrace the Russian land and the Russian napod: "Oh

Bitpyr BcnoMHMJi cjiosa Cohm : «IIoam na nepexpecTOK, noKJioHHCb Hapoay,

nouejiyil acMJiro, noTOMyhto tw h npea Heft corpemwji, w cxaxH Bceviy vtwpy

BCJiyx: y6nilua!"»...M ynaji oh Ha aeMJiio...” (“He suddenly remembered

Sonia’s words: ‘Go to the crossroads, bow down to the people, kiss the earth, because you have sitmed before it, and say aloud to the whole world: ‘I am a murderer! ” .. .and he fell on the ground...’’ (VIr 405).

This discussion of Dostoevskii’s dialogue with Time of Troubles narratives thus demonstrates that Dostoevskii’s writings of the 1860s reflect his search for cultural narratives that will cultivate a common Russian national identity by treating

European influences as foreign to Russian culture. Dostoevskii, believing that this

104 rdentfty must arise from autochthonous literature, rejects foreign invasions (both

historic and contemporary) from Polish aristocraties and French intellectuals alike. To this end, he not only participates in the strong criticism of the Polish invasions of

Russia (through his publication of Chaev’s drama as well as his negative portrayal of the Poles in npecmyruienue unaKasm ue) but also denigrates foreigners’ attempts to portray Russian culture in an attempt to limit their influence on Russian society.

Instead. Dostoevskii’s program of cultural literacy encourages him to look primarily toward those narratives rooted in the Russian “nonaa” (“soil"), e.g., Russian historical dramas and to evaluate Russian literature according to its cultural hermeneutics. The next decade in Dostoevskii’s life will note his increasing tendency to depend upon Russian historical narratives that can translate historical knowledge into a cultural narrative important for defining national identity. Dostoevskii will continue his promotion of Pushkin, in whose literature Dostoevskii finds the

“nooTMHecKan npanaa." i.e., the expression of cultural truths, which he hopes will ultimately lead to a unification of all strata of Russian society.

105 CHAPTER 4

THE SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY CMYTA IN 5ECbI: A RUSSO-POLISH DIMENSION TO DOSTOEVSKH’S POLITICAL NOVEL

4.1

Becbi in the Tradition of Dostoevskii’s Historical Epics

In his political novel Becu {The Devils [1870-2]), Dostoevskii himself participates in the trend of studying contemporary social unrest within the context of

Russian historical conflicts. As he presents the political radicals of the 1860s and

1870s, whom he calls “HeHaeBbi” (“Nechaevs”) after the Russian revolutionary S.

G. Nechaev, Dostoevskii attempts to discover precedents for the political chaos of his time, a time that he recognizes in an 1873 entry of JJneeHUK nucame.tsi {Diary o f a

Writer), as significant for the historical development of the Russian nation: “M m nepexcMBaeM cavtyra cMyxHyio, caMyto HeyaoÔHyK), caviyio nepexonnyio n caMyio poKOByio MWHyxy, Moxex 5 m x b , H3 Bcew Hcxopnw pyccKoro napoaa”

(“We are living through possibly the most troubled, the most awkward, the most transitory, and the most fateful moment of all Russian history”; XXI: 58).

Immediately preceding his work on Becu, in a letter to A. N. Maikov in May 1869,

Dostoevskii suggests that such moments of Russia’s history should be embodied in

106 poetic form, e. g. in a cycle of historical legends that could be collected in a

“BejiMKaa nauHOHajibHaH KHwra” (“great national book”):

Hy TaK BOT B 3TOM pjliie bblJIMH, B CTMXaX...BOCnpOM3BeCTM, c jnoSoBbK) M c Haiueio mucauio, c caMoro Hanajia c pyccKHM BirjiBflOM, — BCK) pyccxyio wcTopwio, oTMeMastb Hen re tohkm m nyHKTbi, B KOTopwx OHa, BpeMeuaMM n MecraMW, xax 6w cocpeitoTOMwaajiacb m Bwpaxcajiacb Bca, B^apyr, bo bcom cBoeM uejiOM (XXIX: 39).

So that in this series of legends, in verse...would be reproduced, with love and with our idea, from the very beginning with a Russian perspective, —all of Russian history, noting in which periods and at which points Russia, in certain times and places, seems to have concentrated and expressed herself at once, in all entirety.

Indeed, he sketches for Maikov an outline for this epic series on Russian history which would include historical accounts both from Russia’s distant past such as the development of the Pan-Orthodox movement under Ivan III in addition to recent events such as the liberation of the serfs in 1861 or the subversive activities of seminarians in the 1860s (XXIX: 41). Dostoevskii emphasizes to Maikov that these epics need not concern themselves primarily with historical fact but with the transmittance of a general historical concept:

Hy BOT cxBaxMTb 3TM nyHKTbi M paccKasaTb b 6biJiHHe, aceM u KajicdoMy, ho He khk npocxyio jieTonwcb, Hex, a khk cepneMHyio no3My, naxe 6es cxporoü nepenann t^axxa (ho tojibko c HpeaBbiHawHOK) hchocthio), cxBaxwxb rjiaBHbiü nynxx a xax nepenaxb ero, nxo6 bmhho, c KaKow mmcjihio oh BUJiMjica, c Kaxoft jiioôoBbK) H viyKOK) 3xa Mbicjib itocxajiacb (XXIX: 39).

Well then take these periods and relate them in the epic legend, to one and all, but not as a simple chronicle, rather, as a heartfelt poem, even without strict transmission of fact (but only if it is exceptionally clear).

107 take the main point and convey it so that it is clear from what idea it was formed, with what love and torment the idea is realized.

From his discussion of the historicity of these proposed historical epics, it is possible

to discern that Dostoevskii characterizes historical fact merely as a starting point for

his epic fiction. In the 1873 entry of JjHeenuK nucamcAsi, “OflHa H3 coepeMenHbix

(jîajibiueü” (“One of the Contemporary Falsehoods”), Dostoevskii outlines a similar

theory of regarding the relationship between historical fact and poetic representation in

response to criticism of his presentation of the Nechaev affair in his novel 5ecw:*

Jlo M3BecTHoro Heuaeea w xcepTBbi ero, MBaHosa, b poMane MoeM jiMUHo Jt He Kacatocb. JlmtoMoezo HeuaeBa, KoneuMo, ne n oxoxe na jihuo nacTosmero HenaeBa. H xotcji nocraBHTb Bonpoc M, cKOJibKo B03MOXCHO HCHec, B c()opMe pOMBHa #aTb Ha Hero oTBer: kbkmm oôpaaovi s naiueM nepexo^HOM m yjiMBHTejibHOM coBpevieHHOM oGoiecTBe bobmojkhm — He Heuaes, a Henaeeti, n kbkhm oôpasoM MoxeT caywHTbca, hto 3TM Henaeebt HaôwpaioT cede non Konett HeHaeBitee? (XXI: 125)

In my novel, I do not personally touch upon the infamous Nechaev and his victim, Ivanov. My Nechaev character, of course, does not resemble the real Nechaev. I wanted to pose the question and, as much as possible, to answer it clearly in the form of a novel: in what way in our transitional and astonishing contemporary society is not only Nechaev possible but even Nechaevs and in what way it can happen that these Nechaevs eventually recruit their own Nechaevites.

Dostoevskii's discussion of the nature of his novel as contemporary history demonstrates his preoccupation with historical questions and concepts rather than an interest in a precise recreation of events. In other words, he prefers to present the essence of the events rather than the facts surrounding them.

iThe Nechaev affair refers to the murder of student named I. I. Ivanov by Nechaev’s clandestine revolutionary circle. During the summer of 1871 while Dostoevskii is working on Been, members of the group are publicly tried for the murder of their fellow conspirator.

108 In B ecu, Dostoevskii investigates one such historical concept—the

development of Russia’s revolutionary movements—whose historical roots are traced

in the novel to the political upheavals of the seventeenth century.^ Dostoevskii’s own

usage of the adjective “cMyTHbiü” (“troubled”) in an 1873 entry to MneenuK

nucame.tsi (discussed on the first page of this chapter) to describe his epoch already

links the political agitation of the 1860s and 1870s to the dynastic struggles at the

beginning of the seventeenth century in his discourse (XXI: 58). When the narrator

in Eecbi, Anton Lavrentevich G-v, also employs the term “cMyTHoe epeMJi” to

characterize the social chaos resulting from the revolutionary activities in the town of

Skvoreshniki, he further encourages a comparison between the political conspiracies

that he witnesses in the nineteenth century and the historic social upheavals of the seventeenth: “B uevi coctohjioname cviyTHoe epeMJi n o t uero k qeviy 6biJi y

Hac nepexoit - a ne anaro, ita a hmkto, h jtyvtaio. He anaex” (“What the nature of our Time of Troubles was and in what direction our transition would be led—1 do not know and indeed 1 think that no one knows”; X: 354).^ This usage of the word

“cMyxHoe” to describe nineteenth-century Russia is not specific to Dostoevskii as evidenced by the nineteenth volume of Nikolai Barsukov’s biography on M. P.

2ln Holy Foolishness: Dostoevsky's Novels & the Poetics of Cultural Critique, Harriet Murav identifies the novel’s seventeenth-century chronotope: "Dostoevsky’s representation of nineteenth- century Russia is refracted through the prism of the early seventeenth century, a period known as the Time of Troubles’’ (102).

3Murav concludes that the narrator’s usage of the term “cMyrHoe epeMJi’’ is associated specifically with the ball organized by luliia Lembke in Chapter 8, Part II of Becu at which Petr Verkhovenskii intends to create “trouble” (112).

109 Pogodin. Barsukov not only refers to the phrase “cMyxHoe apeMsi” to characterize

the Russo-Polish conflict of the early 1860s but also cites I. E. Andreevskii’s usage

of the term “cviyTHoe” to describe the activities of the 1860s Russian revolutionaries

who agitated on behalf of the Poles (118). Dostoevskii’s own recognition of this

word’s particular application to the Russo-Polish conflict of the 1860s is suggested by his specific reference to the year of the January Uprising (1863) as “caMoe

‘cMyxHoe’ BpeMJi name” (“our most ‘troubled’ time”) in an October 1876 entry to

JJhcbhuk nucame.ix, “HecKOJibKO aavtexoK o npocxoxe n ynpouteHHOcxw”

(“Some Remarks About Simplicity and Oversimplification”; XXIII: 141). In light of this cultural significance for the adjective “cMyxHoe,” G-v’s employment of the phrase “uame cviyxHoe Bpewa” may be understood as a historical comparison between the Russo-Polish conflicts of the seventeenth and nineteenth centuries, I.e., between the Polish-sponsored invasions of seventeenth-century Russia and the political agitation in Russia on the part of the Polish independence movement of the

1860s. This chapter will demonstrate how in Secu Dostoevskii maintains a dialogue with Time of Troubles narratives to draw parallels between these two Slavic conflicts as a means of commenting upon a politically-explosive topic of the 1860s—the flo.îbCKUü eonpoc (Polish Question).

110 4.2

Dostoevskii’s Exile and his Focus on the Polish Question

Although by the time that he traveled to Europe in 1867 Dostoevskii had

already presented several critical portrayals of Poles in such fictional works as

3anucKii U3 Mepmeoeo doMO {Notes from the House of the Dead) and

fIpecmyn.ieHue ii HOKaaaHue {Crime and Punishment), he had resisted commenting

on one of the most central issues for the Russian press in the 1860s—the Polish

Question. His silence on this issue may be attributed to his reluctance to expose

himself to both the financial loss and the suspicion of the tsarist censorship which

resulted from his previous attempt to address the Polish Question with the publication

of N. N. Strakhov’s article “Pokoboh Bonpoc” (‘The Fateful Question”) in Bpe.un

{Time).* Yet, while living abroad in the late 1860s, Dostoevskii became more vocal

about his view of the Russian occupation of Poland on which he would comment

after his return to Russia in flneenuK nucame.iH. Already in the aforementioned

May 1869 letter to Maikov that he sent from Florence, Dostoevskii identified

Poland’s important role in Russian history when writing Maikov that the epic

portrayal of Russian history must include a discussion of Poland: "rioJiHKH 6bi aoaxcHw 6bijm sanaTb mhofo Mecxa” (“The Poles would have to occupy much space”: XXDCi: 41). While abroad, Dostoevskii’s particular attention is drawn to

“tNote that Dostoevskii uses the adjective “poKOBoe” in addition to "cMyrHoe” to describe his contemporary period in the 1873 entry to Mhcbhuk nucame.t.i (cited on the first page of this chapter), as if to suggest that the Polish Question is one reason for his defining the late nineteenth century as an important period in Russia’s history.

I ll Russian-Polish relations because of the attempt by the Polish nationalist Anton

Berezowski to assassinate Tsar Aleksandr II on May 25, 1867. Frustrated by his isolation from the Russian press and angered by the support demonstrated by the

European powers for Poland’s liberation from Russian rule, Dostoevskii started to focus more on the Polish Question as a part of his general analysis of Russian-

European relations. Consequently, the European threat to Russia’s stability, which

Dostoevskii had been investigating in his writings since the early 1860s, began to adopt a Polish dimension as he concluded that European countries’ hostility toward

Russia encouraged their promotion of Poland’s independence from Russia.

In an August 1867 letter to Maikov, commenting on the Berezowski trial in

Paris. Dostoevskii speaks openly of his belief that European countries supported the

Polish independence movement because of their animosity and prejudice toward

Russia. Specifically, Dostoevskii criticizes the French because they commuted

Berezowski’s death sentence to life imprisonment owing to the extenuating political circumstances surrounding his assassination attempt on Aleksandr II’s life—Russia’s occupation of Berezowski’s native land:

IIpoHcaiecTBMe b HapHxce mchw norpjrcjto yatacno. XopoiuM Toxce aUBOKaTbi napuxccKwe, Kpuuasmne: «Vive la Pologne». xa Eepe30BCKoro! CxojibKo ruycHOM KaaeHUtHUbi; ho rjiaBHoe, rjiasHoe, xax 3to OHM ne Bbi6ojiTajiMCb, sax ecë eme Ha oanow m tom xce Mecxe, Bcë Ha onHOM m tom xce Mecre! (XXVHIil: 206).

112 The activities in Paris gave me an awful shock. Those good Parisian lawyers screaming: “Long live Poland!”. Ugh, what an abomination, and more importantly — foolishness and bureaucratic red tape! I am even more convinced of my former belief: that it is, in some ways, beneficial to us that Europe does not know us and regards us in such an odious manner. And the details of the proceedings against that little shit Berezowski! So much revolting red tape, but most important, most important, was no matter how much they talk themselves silly, everything was still in the same place, everything in the same place!

Dostoevskii’s emotional language in this passage displays his hostility toward Europe for its stance on the rio.ibCKUu eonpoc and his anger at the French for their continued promotion of Poland’s independence from Russia, a cause for which there was so much French support in 1863 that Napoleon IE was forced to employ various diplomatic maneuvers on behalf of the Poles to ease the Russian occupation of

Poland.^ This French reaction to the Berezowski trial only reinforces Dostoevskii’s contempt for the “apnuHbie nojismwuiKM” (“worthless Polacks”) about whose significant presence in the coffeehouses in Geneva the writer will later complain in a

February 1868 letter to Maikov (XXVIII: 259).

Anna Grigorievna’s description of her husband’s reaction to news of the assassination attempt on Tsar Aleksandr II’s life shows how deeply disturbed

Dostoevskii became over this manifestation of the Russo-Polish conflict of the 1860s:

5ln an April 1876 entry to /IneeHUK nucame.ts, Dostoevskii comments upon Europe’s diplomatic response to the 1863 Polish insurrection within the context of European-Russian relations. He concludes that in the long run the Crimean War was not a Russian defeat, because the Russian victory would have only encouraged Europe to try to annihilate Russia and because "63-M rojt, uanpviMep. ne o6omenca 6u hum Toraa oæhmm oGweHow eaxHX annjioManmecKHX hot: nanpoTHB ocyniecTBHJicji 6u aceoGuiHit xpecroBbiH noxoa na P o c c h io ” (“the year 63. for example, would not have been limited to only an exchange of caustic diplomatic notes: on the contrary it would have brought about a universal crusade against Russia”; XXII: 121).

113 M u TOTHac pemMjiM OTnpaBHXbCH b Hame KOHcyjibCTBO. Ha O eaope MMxawjiOBHHe, hto HaauBaercB, «Jiwaa ne 6ujio»: oh 6biJi KpawHe B3BOJiHOBaH H noHTM 6eacaji aoporoM , n a 6oflJiacb, HTO C HMM HCMCiiaeHHO np0M30MJieT HpunajOK (TaK M CJiyHMJIOCb 8 Ty xce caMyio HOHb). K BCJiHKOMy nanieM y cnacTMK), 6ecnoKOMCTBo oKaaajiocb npeyBejiwHeHHbiM; b KOHcyjibCTse nac ycnoKOMJiM M3BecTneM. HTO 3aoae#CTBo He yaajiocb. M u Toxnac xce npocMJiM paapemeHMa aanHcaxb cbom MMcna b hmcjic au u , noSuBaBuiMX b xoHcyjibcxBe, h to 6 u Bupaaaxb nauie HeroüOBaHHe no noBoay oxoro rnycHoro noxym enna (178).

We immediately decided to set out for our consulate. Fedor Mikhailovich, as they say, "looked like death”: he was extremely upset and almost ran all the way, and I was afraid that he would immediately have an attack (as would happen that very night). To our great joy, our anxiety turned out to be exaggerated: at the consulate we were relieved by the news that this evil deed had not succeeded. We immediately requested permission to register our names on the list of those who had visited the consulate in order to express our indignation concerning this villainous assassination attempt.

Anna Grigorievna tries to account for her husband’s extreme concern for the tsar’s safety by explaining her husband’s gratitude for the tsar’s restoration of

Dostoevskii’s privileges of hereditary nobility (which were revoked following his arrest and imprisonment) and of the right to live in Russia’s capital city. Anna

Grigorievna also notes that her husband’s anxiety for the safety of the tsar’s life fed

Dostoevskii’s fear of a vast network of political conspiracies in which Polish revolutionaries played a significant part:

Becb 3X0X itcHb MOM M y x c 6uji oneHb paccxpoen h rpycxeH: HOBoe noKyineHwe, nocjieitoBaBmee xax cKopo aa noKymeHweM KapaK030Ba, hcho noxaaajio Myxcy, hxo cexH nojiHXMHecxoro 3aroBopa npoHMKjiM rjiyfioKo, m hxo xmbhm cxojib noHMxaeMoro MM MMuepaxopa yrpoxcaex onacnocxb (1 7 8 ).

114 Air that day my husband was very upset and gloomy: a new assassination attempt, having followed so soon after the attempt by Karakozov, clearly demonstrated to my husband that the network of political conspiracies penetrated deeply and that danger threatened the life of the emperor whom he respected so much.

In response to this perceived threat, Dostoevskii became more critical of Russians who admire the West, as evidenced by his criticism of V. G. Belinskii’s followers and by his abuse of I. S. Turgenev in an August 1867 letter to Maikov. Also in this letter, he says of those young progressives who spent a substantial amount of time in

Europe and who were sympathetic to the Poles: “B K a K M X -x o tunnuoB, BopMJinewx w SpearjiM Bbix, o h m aa rpannue* o6pamaioTCH” (“Abroad they turn into some sort of yapping, squeamish Pomeranians”; XXVIIIii: 207). Berezowski’s assassination attempt thus served to heighten Dostoevskii’s animosity toward progressive movements in general since he associated them with anti-tsarist plots advanced by

Western Europe on behalf of the Polish liberation movement.

Although Dostoevskii accused pro-Westem Russians of treasonous activities, he did not discuss a direct link between the Polish agitators and Russian liberals until his description of Gertsen’s participation in the 1863 January Uprising in the 1873 entry to JJueenuK nucameAH entitled “Cxapbie jnoitn” (“Old People”) on which he worked at the same time that he was writing his novel Becu. Nevertheless,

Dostoevskii’s exposure to the revolutionary movements in Europe allowed him to wimess the collaboration between those advancing the Polish cause and those Russian liberals living in exile for whom agitation on behalf of the Poles was a part of a

115 general protest against the tsarist regime—specifically A. I. Gertsen and M. A.

Bakimin (with whom Dostoevskii met while travelling abroad in 1862).® Bakunin’s

advocacy of Poland’s independence from Russia dates back to 1845 when he

published a letter in the radical journal La Réforme in which he attacks the abuse of

power by the tsar and draws attention to the plight of Poles in emigration. By 1862

Bakunin had enlisted Gertsen’s support for the Polish cause, and Gertsen’s influential

journal Koaokoa {The Bell) published an appeal to Russian officers to help their

Polish brothers: Koaokoa also reported on Russian cruelties in Poland.^ Bakunin

meanwhile kept busy writing political pamphlets such as ”K pyccKHM, noAbCKWM w

BceM cjiaBHHCKMM apysbRw’’ (“To My Russian, Polish, and all Slavic Friends’’)

which sketches a plan for a Republic of Slavic nations and “HecKOJibKO cjiob k

MOJioitbiM ôpaTbRM B PoccMM’’ (“Some Words for the Young Brothers in Russia”)

which calls for Russians to support their Polish brethren. Dostoevskii was exposed

to this pro-Polish and anti-tsarist rhetoric while staying in Geneva when Bakunin in

September 1867 gave a speech demanding the dissolution of the Russian Empire at a

conference sponsored by a radical group known as The League of Peace and

6por a description of Dostoevskii's meeting with the two Russian socialists in exile, see L. P. Grossman’s biography of Dostoevskii (260-1).

7por more information concerning Bakunin and Gertsen’s political agitation on behalf of the Poles, see M. K. Dziewanoski’s ‘‘Herzen, Bakunin, and the Polish Insurrection of 1863.”

116 Freedom.* In a letter to his niece Sofia Ivanova following the conference,

Dostoevskii criticizes the activities of the Left:

HO HTO 3TM Tocnotta, — KOTopMx H B nepsbiü pas Bwaea He b KHwrax, a nasiBy, — coitMajiMCTU m peBOjHOUMOHepbi, BpajiM c TpMGyHM nepea 5000 cjiyiuaTejieiî, to HeBbipaswMo! HwKaKoe onwcaHHe ne nepeaacT sToro. KoMWHHOcTb, cjiaôocTb, ôecToaKOBCHHHa, HecorjiacMe, npoTHsypenne cede — 3to BoodpaswTb Hejibsn! (XXVIII: 224).

but how these gentlemen—whom I was seeing, for the first time, not in books but in real life,— these socialists and revolutionaries were spreading lies from the podium before 5,000 listeners. It was indescribable! No description can do it justice. The comicality, the weak argumentation, the obtuseness, the lack of consensus, the self- contradictions—you can’t imagine!

Although Dostoevskii did not specifically mention Bakunin’s name in his letter, the

latter’s prominent role at the conference already singled him out as one of those

radicals whom Dostoevskii included in the novel he is writing. This opportunity to

witness the rhetoric of the revolutionaries provided Dostoevskii with the political jargon necessary for his depiction of the political agitators in his novelBeci*^

SGrossman, based on Anna Grigorievna’s statement that Dostoevskii attended the second session of the Congress, concludes that Dostoevskii witnessed Bakunin’s speech (416-18). However, in the fourth volume of his biography on Dostoevskii, Frank understands from Anna Grigorievna’s description of the conference that her husband attended the third session and so did not hear Bakunin’s speech (236). Still, as an avid reader of the press, Dostoevskii was likely to be familiar with the contents of Bakunin’s speech which made a notable impression on the conference attendees (Grossman 416-17).

9ln his commentary to Been in the academic edition of Dostoevskii’s collected works, V. A. Tunimanov finds that Dostoevskii has his character Shigalev parody Bakunin’s speech when Shigalev criticizes socialists as idealists (XII: 200). Still, Tunimanov does not believe that the speech plays as substantial a role in the novel as Grossman suggests (XII: 201).

117 Dostoevskii himself discusses this connection between Russian liberalism and the Polish independence movement in the aforementioned entry to JjHeenuK nucame.ia, “Cxapbie jito^iM," in which he reminisces about his acquaintance with

Gertsen and Belinskii. In this entry, Dostoevskii expresses his disappointment over

Gertsen's support for the Polish 1863 insurrection, when Gertsen collaborated with

Bakunin in 1863 in order to help the Polish revolutionaries.'* Gertsen, who was never entirely comfortable with supporting the Polish radicals, later in life downplayed his participation in political agitation on behalf of the Poles in his 1865 article “M. BaxyH M H w n o jibC K oe jtejio" (“M. Bakunin and the Polish Business”), the article that Dostoevskii criticizes in “Cxapwe j h o j im ”:

nocbijiaji JIM B PoccMK) B inecTbjtecjiT Tpexbevi rojty, b yrojty nojiflxaM, CBoe B033BaHMe K pyccKHM peBOJiiouMOHepaM, b t o ace BpeMH He Bepa nojiHKaM m 3Ha% , h t o o h m ero oôMaHyjiM, 3Ha%, H T O CBOHM B033BaHHeM OH PyÔMT COTHM 3TMX HeCHaCTHbIX MOJioitbix jiKJiteil: c naMBHocTbiojih HecjibixaHHOio npHBHaaaaca b 3TOM caM b OÜHOM M3 no3itHeMtnMX cTaxefi cbomx, aaace m hc nofl03peBaa, b xaxoM cBexe cavi ce6% BbicraBjraeT tmkmm npM3HaHMeM, Bceraa, Be3jte m bo bcio cbokj acM3Hb oh npeacjte Bcero 6biJi gentilhommerusse et citoyen du monde (XXI: 9).

whether or not in 1863 he sent to Russia his appeal to Russian revolutionaries to favor the Poles, even while at that time not believing

lOAlthough the notes to this article date from December of 1872, Dostoevskii’s meeting with Gertsen in Geneva in 1868 and the iatter’s death in 1870 suggest that the germination for the article dates from Dostoevskii’s final year abroad. Indeed, N. K. Mikhailovskii believes that the entry can be read as a commentary to Eecu on which Dostoevskii work during 1870-72. For more information about Mikhailovskii’s analysis, see E. I. Kiiko’s notes to MneenuK nucameAs in Dostoevskii’s collected works (XXI: 375).

G As a result of this collaboration with Bakunin, Gertsen was ostracized by the Russian literary community (sales of his journal Koaokoa [The Bell] plummeted) as well as by Polish revolutionaries who blamed him when the revolution failed (Dziewanowski 77).

118 the Poles and knowing that they were deceiving him, knowing that with his appeal he would destroy hundreds of these young unfortunate people; whether or not with naivete he unprecedentedly admitted to this himself in one of his latest articles, not even suspecting in what light he was presenting himself with such an admission, he was above all, always, everywhere, and throughout his life a Russian gentleman and a citizen of the world.

Dostoevskii here laments the deaths of the young Russian officers who, following the advice of Gertsen, refused to take up arms against the Poles and lost their lives as a consequence. That Dostoevskii remembers Gertsen’s participation in the Polish liberation movement as a significant biographical fact intimates that Dostoevskii considers the Polish Question to be an important issue for Russian liberals in exile.

This passage also suggests Dostoevskii’s familiarity with Bakunin’s political agitation on behalf of the Poles (despite the fact that he remains unnamed here by Dostoevskii) since many of the regrets that Gertsen describes in his article conceming the Polish

Uprising are attributed to his collaboration with Bakunin.

If Dostoevskii remained ignorant of Bakimin s association with the Polish liberation movement during the early 1860s, Gertsen’s article “M. BaxyHMH: w nojibCKoe aejio”as well as M. N. Katkov’s lead article in the January 6th, 1870 edition of the MocKoecKue eedoMocmu {Moscow Gazette} exposed Dostoevskii to

Bakunin’s political activities during the former’s residence abroad in the late 1860s and early 1870s. Katkov’s interest in Bakunin and his role in encouraging student conspiracies in Russia were stimulated by the implication of Bakunin’s fellow

119 revolutionary, Nechaev, in the murder of I. I. Ivanov. ^ In this article covering the

Nechaev affair, Katkov devotes considerable space to Bakunin’s revolutionary activities and to his manifesto “HecKOJibKO cjiob k MOJioatm 6paTbHM b Poccmm"

(“A Few Words to my Young Brothers in Russia”). In discussing the threat that

Bakunin’s activities pose to tsarist Russia, Katkov dwells upon the revolutionary’s involvement with the Polish liberation movement:

OxcKDita cbinjiroxcji B033BaHnsi k xonopaM, oxctoaa oxupaBJinroxca K HaM 3MMccapbi, ciotta Geryx 3 a BaoxHOBeHwaMW u npMKaaaHMHMM XyARKOBbi m HeqaeBbi. 0 6 M3aaxeJinx «KojioKOJia» yxce He roBopax. CxMnexp pyccxow peBOJiiouMOHHOH oapxMM nepeiueji b pyxw k apyroM 3HaMeHHxocxH, K xoMy BaxyHMHy, Koxopbiü...xceHHJica na MOJioiteHbKoii nojibKe m3 ccbiJibHoro ceMeücxBa, comejica co MHorwMM M3 coHjieMeKHMKOB cBoe# 3KeHbi M, Koxjta pasbixpajiocb nojibCKoe aejio, Gexcaji h 3 C mGmpm h b 1863 roay BMecxe c HeCKOJIbKMMH COpBaHUaMM nOJIbCKOÜ 3MMrpaUMM npeAnpMHMMaJI Mopcxyio oKcneaMUMK) npoxwB P occm m , ho npeitnoneji BbicajtMXbca Ha uiBeacKOM Gepery, Box oh , 3xox Bo«.ab pyccxo# peBoaiouMOHHOü napxHM, opraHMsaxop saroBopa, noxpbiBuiero xenepb cBoeio cexbio bckd Poccmkj (Grossman 452).

It is from there that the calls to take up the axe spout forth, it is from there that the emissaries are sent to us, it is to that place that the Khudiakovs and Nechaevs run for inspirations and their orders. They no longer speak of the publishers of T/ie Bell. The scepter of the Russian revolutionary party has been transferred to the hands of another infamous one, that Baktmin who married a young Polish girl from an exiled family, who associated with many of his wife’s fellow countrymen, and who, when the Polish business began to heat up, fled Siberia and in 1863 took part in the naval expedition along with several hoodlums from amongst the Polish émigrés, but then preferred to disembark on the shore of Sweden. There he is, the leader of the

Bakunin and Nechaev co-author Kamexusuc peeo.tionuoHepa (Cathecism of a Revolutionary) in 1869. a book that draws a considerable attention at the trial of Nechaev’s fellow conspirators.

120 Russian revolutionary party, the organizer of the conspiracies which have now infiltrated all Russia with their network.

Here Katkov indicates that the new generation of Russian revolutionaries, the

Henaeeu, no longer look to Gertsen for leadership, but instead follow the more radical Bakunin who lists the liberation of Poland among his primary concerns.

Based on Bakunin’s Polish relations and his political activism on behalf of the Poles,

Katkov’s article closely links the rioAbCKUii eonpoc with the student conspiracies that

Dostoevskii depicts in Becu. Like Katkov, Dostoevskii uses the generalized term

Henaeebi when characterizing the network of political conspirators in his 1873 entry of JJneeHUK niicameAH entitled "OflHa W3 coBpeMeHHbix (^ajibuien” (“One of the

Contemporary Falsehoods’’). In this entry, Dostoevskii identifies his desire to depict conspiratorial networks developed by charismatic revolutionaries like Nechaev and

Bakunin as his primary concern in writing the novel Becu. Dostoevskii’s discussion of his representation of the Henaeeu in Becu thus parallels Katkov’s understanding of the Russian revolutionary conspiracies linked to Nechaev, but Dostoevskii does not establish a direct association between these revolutionary movements and the

Polish 1863 Uprising.

Nonetheless, Dostoevskii’s period of European exile signals a marked increase in his focus on the rioAbCKuu eonpoc. Dostoevskii’s more frequent contacts with

Russian liberals in Europe (particularly in Geneva which Katkov names the new capital of the revolutionary movement) and with Bakunin’s appeals for the disintegration of the Russian Empire stimulated Dostoevskii’s interest in the Polish

121 movement for independence. Yet it was the Berezowski trial in Paris that evoked the

strongest feelings on Dostoevskii’s part—anti-Polish and anti-European sentiments

that served to reinforce his belief in the West European nations’ hostility toward

Russia. As a result, Dostoevskii began to view the Polish Question as a test of patriotism for his fellow Russians so that those supporting Poland’s independence from Russia were portrayed as Western collaborators who, by refusing to recognize the tsar’s benevolent liberation of Poland, betrayed their native land.*^

4.3

The Time of Troubles and the Polish Question in Becu

Considering his interest in the Polish Question in addition to the cultural association between the Russo-Polish conflicts of the seventeenth and nineteeth centuries, Dostoevskii’s play with terms such as “cMyxHoe" (“troubled”) and

“nepexoaHoe" (“transitional”) in both J J n e e H U K nucameAH and Becu does not seem accidental. For instance, in Becu, G-v uses the phrase “cMyrnoe npeMn” to encoiuage a comparison between these two historical periods, since the subversive activities of “pa3Hwe JuonmuKit” (“various commoners”) or “cBOJio«tt.” (“swine”) in his town recall the machinations of the pretenders of the seventeenth century (X:

an October 1877 entry in /fneenuK nucame.is, “JIcthbh nonfarnca crapoA IlojibinM MnpHTbcJi” (“Old Poland’s Summer Attempt at Reconciliation”), Dostoevskii describes Poland after the January Uprising as “Hoaaa ITojibuia, riojibuia, ocBoSoxjieHHaa uapew” (“a New Poland, a Poland liberated by the tsar”: XXVI: 58).

122 354)/'* As L. I. Saraskina attests in Ebcu: PoMaH-flpedynpeoicdeHue {The Devils:

A Novel-Forewarning), the image of the First False Dimitrii evoked by references to

Grigorii Otrep’ev in Becu links the political conspiracies of the nineteenth century to

the impostorship of the seventeenth century/^

However, the shadow of the first Russian pretender, the first False Dimitrii, only gives the discussion of pretendership in The Devils a certain historical perspective; essentially, the phenomenon of unlawful appropriation, usurpation of an alien name, title, status, or power initially displayed, is inevitable for that disease of the Russian society that F. M. Dostoevskii called devilry (262).

Investigating Secu's dialogue with nineteenth-century Time of Troubles narratives, in

particular A. S. Pushkin’s Eopiic Fodynoe {Boris Godunov) and N. A. Chaev’s

JJuMumpuu CaM03eanen {Dimitrii the Pretender), will elucidate Dostoevskii’s

understanding of his own era as one defined by pretendership. By linking his

portrayal of nineteenth-century socialists to the Polish-sponsored pretendership of the

seventeenth century, Dostoevskii further emphasizes the Polish connections of his

contemporary revolutionaries, connections which encourage him to regard Poland as

both a historic and an immediate threat to the stability of tsarist Russia. In other

words, Dostoevskii’s dialogue with Time of Troubles narratives in Eecu serves to

identify Polish participation in contemporary Russian political conspiracies.

l-^When discussing the narrator’s comments in connection with her analysis of the ball, Murav notes that these “imdesirable types” were “the audience for the first part of the fete” (112).

l^Saraskina believes that this historical reference introduces “ideology of trouble” into Eecu's narrative whereby these "devils-pretenders view violence as acceptable in order to realize their revolutionary ideals so that “Ideologies yield way to politicians” (287-8).

123 Already in the first chapter of Eecu, Dostoevskii introduces the Polish

Question into the narrative as one of several cause célèbres supported by St.

Petersburg’s student radicals, several of whom the narrator characterizes as

“MoineHHMKM" (“swindlers”; X: 22). When the narrator further discredits these

radicals by critically depicting their long list of causes ranging from orthographic

reforms to the abolition of the family, he includes amongst these causes the 1863

battle cry of the Polish radicals, the “BoccraHOBjieHMe IIojibmM no j^nenp” (“the

restoration of Poland up to the Dniepr"), a demand considered extreme even by many who supported the Polish liberation movements of the 1860s (X: 22).^^ The narrator’s commentary in the opening pages of the novel which links the Russian radicals with the Polish demand for independence anticipates the association of the political agitators in the town with the Polish nation. At first, this town appears unaffected by the Polish liberation movement since its contact with Polish exiles is limited to an exiled Polish priest, Slon’tsevskii, with whom the narrator and his friends briefly associated “no npwHunny” (“on principle”; X: 30). However, the fact that Dostoevskii envisioned a more substantial role for the Polish priest in his notes to the novel does suggest the importance of the Polish Question for the town’s political activities. In these notes, it is after the priest is accused of being a

l^See R. F. Leslie’s Reform and Insurrection in Russian Poland 1856-1865 for a discussion of the Polish revolutionaries’ insistence on the restoration of Poland’s pre-partition borders (105-7). That Dostoevskii considers such a demand extreme is evident from his placement of the same demand in the mouth of the Polish scoundrel. Pan Wrdblewski, in Bpamtsi KapaMaaoeu. See W. Lenicki’s Russia, Poland, and the West for further discussion of Dostoevskii’s portrayal of Poles in his final novel (284-5).

124 "noAKynaeHHMM innwoH" (“paid spy”) and after his subsequent public thrashing that a scandal ensues in the aftermath of which Stavrogin arrives in town at the family estate, Skvoreshniki (XI: 142, 217). In Eecu's final form, this Polish dimension to the turmoil in the town is excised, but the tie between the Polish independence movement and the political activities of theHenaesbi remains embedded in Nikolai

Stavrogin’s pretendership which, as it is increasingly associated with the pretendership of the Time of Troubles impostor, Grigorii Otrep’ev, becomes identified with Polish revolutionary causes.

From the begirming of his introduction into the novel, the narrator and various characters link Nikolai Stavrogin to pretendership by comparing him to various political intriguers. The title of the second chapter of Becu, “IIpMHU fappn.

CsaTOBCTBo” (“Prince Harry. A Marriage Proposal”), which introduces Stavrogin to the reader immediately likens Stavrogin to a central player in the civil strife of a fifteenth-century British dynastic crisis (as described by William Shakespeare in The

First Part of King Henry the Fourth and The Second Part of King Henry the

Fourth)—Prince Harry. Although Stepan Trofimovich accounts for Stavrogin’s comparison to Shakespeare’s political conspirator by noting their shared youthful indiscretions, the narrator’s repeated ironic employment of the epithets “IIpHHtt

Tappw” (“Prince Harry”) or “Ham npwHtt” (“our prince”) in descriptions of

Stavrogin’s social and political activities intimate that his similarity to Prince Harry

125 încrucfes a porftfcaT dimension. These two protagonists both choose to engage in political intrigue during their youth in order to fulfill their ambitions. While Prince

Harry attempts to seize the throne firom his father during a civil war in England (as

Shakespeare chronicles in The Second Part of King Henry the Fourth), Stavrogin begins to fraternize with Petr Stepanovich who intends to promote Stavrogin as the future leader of a revolutionary conspiracy. In the midst of Stavrogin’s comparison to this British intriguer lies the first reference to Stavrogin’s political activities—his military service in Poland during the 1863 Uprising. In the narrator’s summary of

Stavrogin’s history before his latest arrival in Skvoreshniki, G-v recounts Stavrogin’s involvement in the Russo-Polish conflict of 1863: “B mecxbaecjiT Tpexbevi roay eviy KaK-TO yaaaocb oTJiuuHTbCH; eviy aann KpecTWK n npou3Bejiw b yurep- o4)Muepbi, a 3axeM Kax-xo yx. cKopo u b ocJiMuepbi" (“In 1863, he somehow succeeded in distinguishing himself; they gave him a cross and promoted him to a non-commissioned officer and then somehow rather quickly to an officer”; X: 36).

The narrator’s account of Stavrogin’s indifferent participation in the Russian occupation of Poland suggests Stavrogin’s reluctance to become involved in the suppression of the Polish 1861 uprising, a reluctance further evidenced by the narrator’s revelation that Stavrogin’s promotions are a result of his mother’s efforts to advance his career instead of his own military performance in Poland. Stavrogin’s

t^The narrator’s usage of these epithets also serves to mock Stepan Trofimovich’s romantic understanding of Stavrogin’s disgraceful activities which he likens to Prince Harry’s carousings with Falstaff.

126 resignation of his commission after the receipt of his promotion and return to St.

Petersburg suggest his sympathy for the Polish liberation movement, since he follows

the demands of high-profile Russian liberals such as Gertsen whose article

"PyccKMM ocJiHuepaM b Flojibme’’ (“To the Russian Officers in Poland”), published

in Ko.iokoa in 1862, called for Russian officers to refuse to cooperate in the suppression of the Polish conflict. Thus, G-v’s summary of Stavrogin’s life before his appearance in the town connects Stavrogin to political activities that Dostoevskii has already characterized in his correspondence as a threat to the stability of nineteenth-century tsarist Russia.

After Stavrogin’s arrival, he begins to realize his fellow conspirators’ expectations for his political leadership. In a parallel to Pushkin’s Otrep’ev, who receives the first premonition of his rise to fame in “Houb. Kejibji a HyaoaoM

MonacTfaipe” (“Night. A Cell in Chudovii Monastery”), Stavrogin first realizes his pretendership at night with Shatov as his confidant in the chapter “Houb” (“Night”).

Stavrogin’s introduction to pretendership is not presented to him in the prophetic form of Otrep’ev’s dream but instead is bom from Petr Stepanovich’s and Shatov’s expectations of his ability to “noitH«Tb y hhx 3HaM»” (“raise their banner”: X: 201).

While Otrep’ev dreams of his rise above Moscow and subsequent flight downwards,

Stavrogin’s metaphorical fall is merely recounted by Shatov who tells his mentor: “0,

Bbi He 6poitMTe c xparo, a cMejio JieTwxe bhh 3 rojioBoü” (“Oh you don’t walk along the edge of the precipice but boldly fly over it headlong. ”: X: 202).

127 Stavrogin’s own account of the plans for his political intrigue reveals a similar human

impetus for his pretendership:

rierp BepxoBeHCKMM Toxce yGeacaeu, h to h mop 6bi "noaHRTS y HMX 3HaMR,” no KpaBneR Mepe Mae nepeaasaJiM ero cjioaa. Oh 3aaaJICR MMCJIMK), MTO R MOP 6bl CUPpaTb HJIR HMX pOJIb CxeHbKM Pa3MHa “no HeodbiKHOBeHHOM cnocoSHOCTM k npecxynjieHMio”— Toxce ero cjioea(X: 201).

Petr Verkhovenskii is also convinced that I could “raise their banner," at least those were the words that were passed on to me. He seized on the idea that I could play for them the role of Sten’ka Razin “because of my unusual talent for crime”—those were also his words.

Here, Petr Verkhovenskii’s likening of Stavrogin’s proposed political activities to the bloody seventeenth-century rebellion of Sten’ka Razin denigrates Stavrogin’s future pretendership which Petr further links to criminal activities even before the inception of Stavrogin’s role-playing.

In a continuation of this same chapter, “H o h b (npoaojixceHMe)’’ (“Night [A

Continuation]’’), Stavrogin’s wife, the iopoduean (“holy fool”) Mar’ia Lebiadkina, advances this debasement of her husband’s pretendership when she provides him with the persona of Otrep’ev as the face of his pretendership.*^ In her studyHoly

Foolishness, Murav recognizes the power of Mar’ia Lebiadkina’s holy foolishness to demote Stavrogin’s pretendership: “Mar’ia Timofeevna thus plays a crucial role in the

Inciting Dostoevskii's naming of Mar’ia as a /opodueaa in his notebooks to Becu, Murav describes Mar’ia Lebiadkina’s commonalities with this cultural archetype such as her ability to unmask Stavrogin as a pretender. “The drama of recognition embedded within Mar’ia Timofeevna’s narrative alerts us to the broader drama of recognition that the novel as a whole contains...Mar’ia Lebiadkina may be mad. but she is not tempted by Stavrogin the way everyone else in the novel is. She calls him a pretender (samozvanets) and. as she so aptly puts it. ‘a bad actor,’ and asks whether he has read about ‘Grishka Otrep’ev, who was cursed in seven churches’” ( 114).

128 overall movement of the novel from delusion to discovery. Stavrogin. the ‘sun’ to

Petr Verkhovenskii, Shatov, and Kirillov, is shown to be not what he seems, not the bright falcon but a bad actor,’ comically reduced” (114). Mar’ia’s association of

Stavrogin with the image of the anathematized seventeenth-century impostor further casts a shadow over her husband’s future pretendership. When Stavrogin first arrives at Mar’ia Timofeevna’s, she repeatedly recognizes him as her “KHJi3b”

(“prince”) thereby reinforcing G-v’s characterization of him as “uaui npMHu” (X:

215). However, as their conversation progresses, Mar’ia begins to adopt a more antagonistic tone toward Stavrogin and eventually challenges his identity as her

“KHH3b”and “coKOJi” (“falcon”: X: 219). A comparison of this unmasking scene with a parallel scene in Pushkin’s Bopuc Fodynoe in which Marina exposes

Otrep’ev as a pretender will demonstrate how Mar’ia Lebiadkina’s comparison of her husband to Otrep’ev underscores the demonic nature of Stavrogin’s pretendership.

Both Mar’ia and Marina come to meet their respective conversation parmers alone at night after others have already recognized their pretendership. InBopuc r odynoe, Otrep’ev hides his pretendership in order to project his identity as the tsarevich (an identity provided to him by the chronicler-monk Phnen) with a legitimate claim to the throne. Similarly, Stavrogin remains silent about his possible participation in Petr Stepanovich’s political intrigue as the new Sten’ka Razin and

her study of Pushkin’s tragedy, Emerson concludes that Pimen’s account of the tsarevich’s death is “midwife” to Otrep’ev’s pretendership since “Stirred by Pimen’s stories, by their miracles and coincidences, Grigory is no longer content to copy. Cursing Boris, he swears that the ‘terrible denunciation’ {uzhasnyidonos) of the chronicler will be carried into life, and the the usurper- tsar will not escape the judgment of this world nor God” {Boris Godunov 122).

129 allows his wife (as well as other townspeople) to recognize him as a “KHJtab.” Yet,

over the course of their confrontations with Marina and Mar’ia, both Otrep’ev and

Stavrogin are exposed as pretenders by their female partners. Nevertheless, Marina’s

unmasking of Otrep’ev in Pushkin’s scene “H ohb . Com. OoHTan” (“Night. Garden.

Fountain”) encourages him to re-dedicate himself to this persona, whereas Mar’ia’s

characterization of Stavrogin as a false prince, a “caMoaBaneu” (“pretender”), causes

Stavrogin to recoil in horror and flee. These varying reactions indicate that while

Otrep’ev comfortably plays the role of the martyred tsarevich, Stavrogin wishes to avoid the violent and demonic image of the pretender with which Mar’ia labels him.

The proud Polish noblewoman Marina, fearing that her future husband has no royal lineage, warns Otrep’ev that: “XlMMMTpnfitbi m 6 bitb mhbim ne MoxceuiB;/

Jlpyroro Mue jho Gmtb HejiBsn” (“You are Dimitrii and can be no other;/ It is impossible for me to love another.”; VII: 61). Otrep’ev, under the spell of Marina’s beauty, decides that he does not want to share her love with the deceased tsarevich and volunteers the fact that he is merely an impoverished novice. Her subsequent criticism of his pretendership emboldens him to legitimize his pretendership with a moral claim to the throne:

TeHB Tpo3Horo MenaycwHOBUJia, /iMMUTpweM M3 rpo6a Hapexjia Boxpyr Mena napo^Bi B03MyrMJia M B acepTBy Nine Bopuca oGpexaa— HapcBMu a (VU: 64).

The shadow of the Terrible adopted me. From the grave it called me Dimitrii

130 Roused the people around me And named Boris as my victim— I am the tsarevich.

Otrep'ev’s answer demonstrates that Marina’s knowledge of his role-playing does not

threaten the success of his political endeavors as he himself points out when he

explains to her that his pretendership enjoys the political support of her fellow

countrymen regardless of his identity: “/I k m h t p h m a m jib Her — h t o w m aa nejto?/

Ho a npeitJior paaaopoa hb o K h u ” (“Dimitrii or not—what is it to them?/1 am an

excuse for war and discord”: VII: 64). Consequently, Dimitrii’s conversation with

Marina, despite her threats to expose him, strengthens his resolve to seize the Russian

throne: “Tenepb way —nornSeab wjib aeneu/ Moto rjiaay a P o c c m m oxcMitaer”

(“Now I am going — ruin or the crown/ Awaits my head in Russia"; VII: 64).“*^

Because Dimitrii maintains this control over the revelation of his pretendership to the

proud Marina, her knowledge of his true identity does not threaten the success of his

political intrigue.

Stavrogin, on the other hand, offers little response to his wife’s

characterization of him as a pretender so that the persona that she provides for him in

the scene “Ho?b (iipoitojiJKeHMe)"haunts his character for the remainder of the

narrative. Unlike her female counterpart in Pushkin’s tragedy, Mar’ia has the more

20Here, Otrep’ev’s effective rebuff of Marina’s challenge may also be attributed to his talent for role-playing; ‘‘Pushkin’s pretender succeeds because he makes history, or rather, he makes it up; he listens, absorbs, literally becomes the many personalities that others need to see in him. He assumes a different identity with almost every scene ” (Emerson, Boris Godunov 100). Ilya Serman notes this talent as a part of Otrep’ev’s “poetic nature” which encourages him to transcend culturally-defined roles and to live “by the principle of making the very most out of every minute of existence” (32).

131 authoritative voice in her confrontation scene because of her status as a /opodueasi, a

Russian cultural archetype equated with divine insight and righteous opposition to authority."* Because of her connection to the divine, her comparison of Stavrogin to the anathematized Grigorii Otrep’ev seriously defames Stavrogin’s character.

Mar’ia’s screaming ‘TpHUiKa ÜT-penb-eB a-Ha-({)e-Ma!” (“Grishka Ot-rep’-ev a-na- the-ma!’’) recalls the anathematization of Otrep’ev by the Russian Orthodox Church in

Pushkin’s scene. “Iljiom aab nepea coôopoM a Mocxae ” (“The Square in Front of the Cathedral in Moscow’’). In Pushkin’s tragedy, the napod's reluctance to accept the anathematization of Otrep’ev and a fopodueuit's representation of Boris Godunov as a political assassin insinuate that the Russian Orthodox Church’s anathematization of Otrep’ev is motivated by the political ambitions of Boris (X: 219)." The focus of the scene centers not on Omep ev’s anathematization, but on the lopodueuù Mikolka’s refusal to pray for the “uapb-Mpoa" (“tsar-Herod”) Boris Godunov because of his involvement in the tsarevich Dimitrii’s murder: “HwKOJiKy MajieHbKwe ttern o6MxcaioT...BejiH nx aapeaaxb, x a x aapeaaji t m M ajieHbxoro uapeaMMa’’ (“The little children are offending Nikolka...Order their throats cut, like you cut the throat of the little tsarevich’^: VII: 78). Mikolka’s public accusation of Boris Godunov thereby

21 A. M. Panchenko in Cmcx e Mpeeneu Pycu {Laughter in Ancient ) characterizes the lopciiMBUü's actions as “social protest” in that this archetypal personage speaks on behalf of those who are silenced by authority figures (116).

“ In this scene. Boris and the Orthodox Church are linked as symbols of authority while the people on the square Including the lopodueuù represent challenges to these authority figures.

132 mitigates the Church’s anathematization of Otrep’ev by validating Otrep’ev’s contention that his pretendership is sanctioned as divine retribution.

In Becbi, on the contrary, the topoduean Mar’ia bases her anathematization of

Stavrogin on his violent and murderous pretendership in the tradition of Boris

Godunov: “flpoub, caMoseaHeu! — noBejiwTejibHO BCKpuuajia oua. — H Moero

KHH3H *eua. He 6oiocb TBoero Hoxa!” (“‘Away, pretender! ’ she screamed imperiously, I am the wife of my prince, I am not afraid of your knife!’”; X: 219)."^

The knife that Mar’ia links to her husband will appear a few minutes later in the hands of Stavrogin’s fellow conspirator Fed’ka, who used it to “aapesaji” (“slit the throat”) of a watchman (X: 221)."'* Thus, Mar’ia’s accusation not only attributes to

Stavrogin the violence associated with Boris Godunov’s rise to power but also links her husband’s political conspiracies to the common criminal activities of the bandit

Fed’ka. After hinting at the violent tendencies of his pretendership, she damns

Stavrogin with the Orthodox Church’s anathematization of Otrep’ev by screaming at him: “FpHuiKa Or-penb-eB a-Ha-4>e-Ma!” (X: 219). This characterization of

Stavrogin as an accursed and violent pretender casts his future pretendership in a negative light, especially since Mar’ia’s private characterization of Stavrogin’s role- playing is realized by his criminal co-conspirator Fed’ka.

23Emerson discusses Boris Godunov’s failure to establish his legitimacy which leaves him open to accusations of pretendership: “Pretendership is indeed at the center of most versions of the Boris Tale... Boris the Usurper, the False Tsar, is challenged by a False Dmitri" {Boris Godunov 18).

24Stavrogin links Mar’ia’s mention of the knife with the appearance of Fedka’s knife by repeatedly pronouncing the word “ h o 5k ” from the time he flees his wife’s room to the moment when he meets Fedka.

133 Armed with this Pushkinian persona, Stavrogin prepares to enter into the

conspiracy with Petr Stepanovich who outlines the central role of Stavrogin’s

pretendership as part of a plan to induce political unrest in Russia in the chapter

entitled ‘‘WBaH-UapeBMu” (“Ivan-Tsarevich”) in the second part of B e c u r^ As

Leonid Chekin concludes, this chapter title specifically focuses the narrative on

Stavrogin’s pretendership within the context of the seventeenth-century tradition of

impostorship since “The ill-fated Ivans in Karamzin’sHistory and The Devils become

an additional link between Nikolai Stavrogin and the seventeenth-century pretenders’’

(85)."^ Petr Stepanovich draws upon this tradition when he includes in his plans to cause “CMyTa ” (“trouble”) in the town a central role for Stavrogin’s pretendership (X:

324)."’ By twice using this word “cwyxa” (the same word used to refer to the seventeenth-century dynastic crisis— ee.iuKan cMyma) in describing his plans for the establishment of Stavrogin’s reign in Russia, Petr Stepanovich himself links

Stavrogin’s pretendership to the historic period of the Time of Troubles. At first,

Petr Stepanovich indicates that he intends to bring about the political unrest in Russia with the help of his other conspirators: “ m u cnaqajia nycTWM cuyxy” (“first we

25Emerson mentions this chapter in particular as one in which “the themes of False Napoleon and False Tsar” are explored ( Boris Godunov 18).

26ln “Notes on Images of the Time of Troubles in The Devils and The Brothers Karamazov,” Chekin particularly identifies the Karamzinian depiction of Marina Mnishek’s giving birth to a son named Tsarevich Ioann with “the ill fete of Marie Shatov’s son, Ivan” (84).

27Murav notes that Petr Stepanovich’s usage of the word “cMyxa” here recalls the historical p e r io d of “cMyxHoe apeMH” (112).

134 shall start some trouble"; X: 324). His plans center around Stavrogin's pretendership

which will necessitate Petr’s creating a pretender-myth, a myth of the "uapeBWH-

M36aBHTejifa” (tsar-deliverer), which also proved successful for the historical

impostor Grigorii Otrep’ev:”*

Mw CKaxeM, qxo oh «cKpuBaexcji». — tmxo, KaKMM-ro jiK)6oBHbiM luenoTOM nporoBopMJi BepxoBeHCKwfl, b cbmom aeae Kax Gyaxo nbJiHbiM. — 3naexe jih bm, hxo ananHX 3xo cjiobuo: «Oh cxpbiBaexcH»? Ho oh hbhxch, hbhxch. Mm nycxHM jierenjiy nojiynme, nevi y ckohuob (X: 325).

“We shall say that he is ’in hiding’,” Verkhovenskii said quietly, with a kind of amorous whisper as if he were really drunk. “Do you know what these words mean: ‘He is in hiding’? But he will appear, he will appear. We shall put out a legend better than the skoptsy."

Murav finds that this mention of the cKoniiu also advances the novel’s dialogue with

historical pretendership since this sect also produced an impostor, Kondraty

Selivanov, who claimed to be Peter m (112).”^ Yet, Petr Stepanovich brings the

historical time frame back to the seventeenth century as he again repeats that the spread of his legend of a “uapeBiiH-H36aBHxeJib’’ in hiding will ensure that

“HaHHexcH CMyxa’’ (“the troubles will begin": X: 325).

28ln a discussion of K. V. Chistov’s social analysis of the tsar-deliverer legend. Irena Ronen concludes that the success of Pushkin’s Otrep’ev. who ends the play in triumph as he enters Moscow to ascend the throne, may be attributed to his ability to draw upon the popular belief in a tsar-deliverer who “wanders and hides himself (in the South of Russia or in Poland) ” (101). For an evaluation of Chistov’s conclusions regarding the reladonship between the legend of the tsar-deliverer and royal imposture, see B. A. Uspenskii’s article Tsar and Pretender Samozvandestvo or Royal Imposture in Russia as a Cultural-Historical Phenomenon. ”

29ln her discussion of pretendership in Secu, Murav also finds that Petr Stepanovich references another Russian historical revolutionary movement when he utters the name Ivan Fillipovich which “is a conflagration of the names of two leaders of the khlysry, Danil Fillipovich and Ivan Timofeevich Suslov.” whose sect is associated with revolutionary aims (112).

135 Dostoevskii introduces a Polish dimension to this nineteenth-century political agitation which has its parallel in the Polish support for Otrep’ev’s revolutionary activities depicted in such Time of Troubles dramas as Pushkin’s Bopuc Fodynoe and Chaev’s JJuMumpuù CoMoseanen. Before writing Becu, Dostoevskii was already familiar with the historical roots of the nineteenth-century Polish rebellion from the works he and his brother published in the journal Snoxa {Epoch) such as

“Hto raKoe flonbCKne BoacraHMJi’’ (“What are the Polish Uprisings"), “HatuM itoMatuHwe jtejia’’ (“Our Domestic Business”), and Chaev’s drama JJuMumpuü

CaMoeeaneu. Still, it is in his notebook for 1864-65 that Dostoevskii states his belief in a connection between the radical revolutionaries and the Polish independence movement through their common bond with Catholicism:

O nojiJiKax. Mexcjty nponMM: MeayMTMSM cryÔMJi mx. H to Taxoe ne3yMTH3M? nepeeecTM 3Ty cTaTbio n nepeÜTH k Me3yMTM3My h nancTBy. CyntHOCTb nancTBa. YMMpaHwe ero. JJoKasamb, h t o nancTBo ropasito rjiyôxce n nojinee boiujio eo eecb 3anad, mcm ityMaioT, HTO aaxce ti ôbiBtnne petJ)opMauMM ecTb npoayxT nancTsa, m Pycco, m c&paHuy3CKa% peBOJiiouHJt — npoayxT aanaanoro xpwcTMaHCTBa, n, naKOHeu, couMajiw3M, co Bce# ero (|)OpMaJIHCTMKOM H .lyHHHOHKaMH, — ItpOjiyKT KaTOJIMHCCKOrO xpHCTwaHCTBa (XX: 190-1).

About the Poles. By the way: Jesuitism ruined them. What is Jesuitism? Translate this article and continue on to Jesuitism and the papacy. The essence of the papacy. The dying of the papacy.Prove that the papacy has more deeply and fully penetrateall of the West than is thought: that even former reforms are a product of the papacy— both Rousseau and the French Revolution—a product of Western Christianity, and finally socialism, with all its official forms and splinter groups— a product of Catholic Christianity.

136 Therefore, when he introduces the goal of Petr Stepanovich’s “CMyra" as Stavrogin’s joint international reign with the Pope at his side, Dostoevskii connects Petr

Stepanovich’s conspiracy to the same Catholic Church that once encouraged

Otrep’ev’s pretendership in the seventeenth-century. This Polish Catholic connection to these politically subversive activities shows that Stavrogin’s proposed pretendership is both a part of contemporary revolutionary movements that

Dostoevskii links to the West as well as a continuation of the seventeenth-century

Polish Jesuit invasion of Russia.

Dostoevskii admires two Time of Troubles dramas, Pushkin’s Bopuc

Fodynoe and Chaev’s MiiMumpuU CaMoseanen, which credit Otrep’ev’s ability to seize the Russian throne to his logistical support from the Poles. In Pushkin’s drama, the success of Otrep’ev’s pretendership is attributed to the support that he receives from Polish nobles as is evidenced by the Patriarch’s commentary on

Otrep’ev’s political intrigues. When the Patriarch first hears of Otrep’ev’s plans to become the next tsar, he does not believe that the political intrigues of this “cocya ituaBOJibCKHii” (“vessel of the Devil”) even warrant the tsar’s attention (VU: 24).^"

After Otrep’ev receives military support from the Polish nobleman Vishnevetskii (at whose house he also obtains a spiritual endorsement for his pretendership from a

Catholic priest. Pater Czemikowski), the Patriarch more vehemently damns this

30Murav notes the devilish motifs in the Patriarch’s speech in Pushkin’s drama; “The motifs of demonism and heresy, which dominated the seventeenth-century accounts of the Time of Troubles, constitute, in Pushkin’s play, one among many such projections about the pretender. These motifs, for example, ‘a vessel of the devil’(sosud diavol’skif) and son of the devil’ {besovskii syn), which occur in the patriarch’s speech, are a part of the multiplicity of styles so characteristic of the play” ( 107).

137 "FecoBCKMM cbiH, paccTpwra oKanHHuS”^ C‘son o f the Devil, accursed defrocked monk”) in anticipation of Otrep’ev’s anathematization and suggests that the tsarevich’s remains be placed in the Archangel Cathedral in the Kremlin so that

“Hapon yBHjiMT ncHo/ Torjta obwaH 6e36o«Horo sjioaen./ M Momb 6ecoB

HCMesHex HKO npax” (“the people will clearly see/ Then the deceit of this godless villain,/ And the remains of the devils will disappear like dust”; VII: 71).^‘ The role of the Poles in establishing Otrep’ev’s power base is further developed in Chaev’s drama which portrays Otrep’ev’s continued association with the Poles and the

Catholic priest Czemikowski during his reign as tsar Dimitrii.^- Indeed, the notable presence in Moscow of the new tsar’s Polish supporters so antagonizes the Russians that the Russians begin to refer to Dimitrii with such demonic epithets as “saepb”

(“beast”) and “aHTMxpwcx” (“Antichrist”) because of his links to the Catholic Poles

(47.71).

In the chapter “MBaH-IIapeBWM” of Dostoevskii s Becu, Stavrogin’s pretendership is similarly associated with Poland and Catholicism through the figure of Petr Stepanovich. Dostoevskii first hints at a Polish link to the activities of his

3lThe Patriarch’s speech here resonates well with Stepan Trofimovich’s conclusion (an explication of Dostoevskii’s epigraph forEectt) that "ace 6ecw“ (“all the devils") will enter into the swine who will subsequently be destroyed (X: 499).

32Although Otrep’ev is referred to as Dimitrii throughout the drama, his identity is revealed by a the merchant Fedor Konev who quotes Pimen as saying “ o h He uapeBHH .ZIm m h t p h U. a dhpenbCB" ("he is not the tsarevich Dimitrii, but Otrep’ev’’; 30). The presence of similar ahistorical personages such as Pimen and Czemikowski in both dramas as well as the fact that Pushkin’s Bopuc rodyHoe leaves off where Chaev’s /JuMumpuii CoMoseaneu begins suggest that Chaev intends his drama as a sequel to Pushkin’s.

138 Henaeeu (a link already established by Katkov’s article on Bakunin and Nechaev) through the possible Polish parentage of their organizer, Petr Stepanovich. In a conversation with Stepan Trofimovich concerning this Polish parentage, Petr

Stepanovich cites his mother’s marital infidelities (confirmed by a note from his mother to a Polish gentleman) as evidence of this Polish parentage: “C M o efi t o m k m speHMJi, He ôecnoKOMcn: a M aT b He bmhio; tu ras tu , hojihk TaK oojijik, vine

Bcë paBHO.” (“From my point of view, don’t worry: I do not blame my mother: You or that Pole— it’s all the same to me.’’: X: 240). Petr Stepanovich’s Polish connection is reinforced in the “MeaH-UapeeMH’’ chapter when he discusses a role for the papacy in the world revolution that he is planning:

H ityviaji oTaaTb Mwp nane. IlycTb oh BuüiteT neui m 6oc m noKaxceTCH nepHu: «B ot aecKaTb, ao qero mchh aoBejiw!»— m Bcë noBajiMT 3 a hmm, ;taxe boücko. liana BBepxy, mu KpyroM, a noA HaMH tuHrajieBUtMHa. Haao TOJibKO, hto6u c nanoii Internationale corjiacHJiacb; Tax h 6yaeT (X: 323).

I thought about handing the world over to the Pope. Let him come out barefoot and show himself to the rabble to say: “See to what you have driven me!’’ and they will all flock to him, even the army. The Pope on top with us around him and the Shigalevs under us. It is only necessary that the Internationale agree with the Pope; this will happen.

Petr Stepanovich’s vision of the future cooperation between his own conspiracy and that of the papacy echoes Dostoevskii’s discussion of the international papal conspiracy in connection with the 1863 January Uprising. Petr Verkhovenskii connects this future political agreement with his plans for Stavrogin’s pretendership, by proposing the Pope’s and Stavrogin’s joint reign over the West and Russia,

139 respectively: “CjiymaMxe: nana Gyitex Ha Sanajte, a y nac, y Hac Syjtexe b m !”

(“Listen, the Pope will be in the West and in our country, in our country will be

you!": X: 323). In this manner, Petr Stepanovich promotes a Western Catholic

conspiracy on Russian soil to ensure that his “caMoasaHeu” Stavrogin will rule over

Russia (X: 325).

Unlike Pushkin’s and Chaev’s dramas, Dostoevskii’s novel does not

concentrate on the success of its caMoaeaneu, by depicting his temporary rule over

Russia during the cMyma. Instead, the public failure of Stavrogin’s pretendership is

anticipated before its onset (in the third part of Becu) by Mar’ia’s comparison of her

husband to the anathematized seventeenth-century pretender, by Dostoevskii’s

association of Stavrogin with an international papal conspiracy, and by the narrator’s

early usage of bestial apocalyptic imagery to describe Stavrogin’s political agitation,

imagery that does not poison Otrep’ev’s reign as tsar until the end of Chaev’s

drama.^^ In this third part of Becu, G-v signals the beginning of Petr Stepanovich’s

planned “cMyxa" by characterizing the social chaos arising from the scandalous ball

as “cMyxHoe speMfi’’ (“a Time of Troubles’’; X: 354).^"^ In spite of the pretender

personae provided for him by Mar’ia (i.e., Otrep’ev) and by Petr Stepanovich (i.e,

tsar-deliverer), Stavrogin does not enjoy popular success from his role-playing.

33Both the Russian’s characterization of Otrep’ev in Chaev’s drama as “aeepb’’ (“beast") or “aHTHxpHcx” ("Antichrist”: 47. 71) as well as G-v’s depiction of Stavrogin as a “3Bepb” (“beast") who suddenly “noKaaaji cboii KorxH" (“showed his claws") draw upon Biblical apocalyptic imagery (X: 37).

34chekin finds that Dostoevskii’s depiction of this ball resembles the celebration of Dimitrii’s marriage in the final act of Chaev’s drama (86).

140 During these troubled times, Stavrogin does not convince the public of his identity as the tsarevich but rather finds that his political persona as envisioned by Petr

Stepanovich exposes Stavrogin to the danger of a public unmasking. By rousing the indignation of an unruly crowd at the benefit for governesses and by orchestrating

(with the help of Fed’ka) the murders of the Lebiadkins, Petr Stepanovich begins to set in action the social unrest which he hopes will lead to Stavrogin’s public pretendership. The crowd initially recognizes Stavrogin’s role in this conspiracy to commit murder, but instead of hailing him as a pretender, attempts to unmask him as a murderer. Thus, before he even begins his public role-playing as the tsarevich,

Stavrogin’s pretendership is terminated by a crowd of townspeople who, having identified him as his wife’s killer, avenge Mar’ia’s death with the murder of his lover

Liza Tushina. This unmasking by the public crowd, feared by Otrep’ev at the beginning of Bopuc Fodynoe and by the false Dimitrii at the end of JJuMumpuu

CaMoseaneu, terminates Stavrogin’s pretendership at its inception.

Dostoevskii’s presentation in Been of nineteenth-century socialists against the backdrop of seventeenth-century rebellions thereby demonstrates that the Henaeeu continued the long-established Russian tradition of pretendership. Dostoevskii further linked this pretendership to Polish conspiracies when he chooses these two distinct historical periods of Russo-Polish conflict as the backdrop for his novel which focuses on political intrigues designed to threaten Russia’s stability. This Polish connection to Russian revolutionary movements serves to discredit the Henaeeu by

141 associating them not only with the bloody rebellion of 1863 but also with Catholic

Poland’s historic opposition to Russia and Russian Orthodoxy. Hence, Stavrogin’s failure to gain even temporary popular approval for his pretendership also signified for Dostoevskii Poland’s abortive attempt to foment rebellion in Russia. In this respect, Dostoevskii presents in Becu a warning for Russians to guard against the revolutionary intrigues organized by Russian radicals living in the West, such as

Bakunin, who are exposed to Polish conspirators. Dostoevskii will continue to advise caution in dealing with those supporting Poland’s independence from Russia, particularly in the latter half of the 1870s when he outlines in JJneeHUK nucamejsi and Epambsi KapaMasoeu the threat that Poland and the Catholic West pose both to the political stability of the Russian nation and to the future of the Russian Orthodox

Church.

142 CHAPTERS

POLISH SOVEREIGNTY AND RUSSOCENTRIC PANSLAVISM: A REPRISAL OF THE TIME OF TROUBLES IN DOSTOEVSKH’S FINAL NOVEL

5.1

Dostoevskii’s Criticism of Polish Resistance to Panslavism

By the latter half of the 1870s Dostoevskii’s writings focused with increasing

intensity on the importance of Russia’s dissemination of “Russocentric panslavism,” a

slavophilic movement that promoted the establishment of a panslav federation under

the leadership of the Russian autocracy (Tuminez 65).' In his analysis of JJneeHUK

niicameAsi {Diary o f a Writer), Gary Saul Morson identifies the theological

underpinnings of Dostoevskii’s “Russocentric panslavism” in Russian Orthodox

eschatology: “And as promised in the Revelation to St. John, he [Dostoevskii]

contends, that battle will be followed by the millennium-which, for him, means a

worldwide utopia headed by Russia and based on the Russian Orthodox faith” (33).

Morson further finds that the apocalyptic imagery which Dostoevskii used to describe

contemporary European conflicts suggests that the appearance of this new world

lAstrid Tuminez distinguishes this "Russocentric panslavism” from the slavophilism of the first half of the nineteenth century by explaining that the proponents of the former “maintained that Slavic groups must submit to Russian leadership” and “did not favor equal relations between Russians and other Slavs and censured Poles and Czechs who wanted to pursue independent agendas” (65).

143 order is imminent: “In countless articles, the author argues that social ‘fragmentation,’

‘dissociation,’ and ‘isolation’ have reached such an extreme that the ‘final battle’ is

almost certainly near’’ (33). In An Obsession with History, Andrew Wachtel

concludes that this “future-oriented historiographical scenario” ( 147) informs not only

MneenuK nucameASi but also Dostoevskii’s final novel Bpamba. KapoMasoeu (The

Brothers Karamazov). Indeed, Wachtel demonstrates that in both of these works,

Dostoevskii contemplates the historical realization of a Russian Orthodox utopia upon

the demise of Catholicism in Western Europe: “The millennium is not merely a

miraculous promise to be accepted on faith, however; it is fully historicized and will

issue forth directly and logically from the nation’s past” (147). To this end, in

MneenuK nucameAsi and Bpamba KapaMaaoeu, Dostoevskii mines his nation’s past

for historical precedents that speak to Orthodox Russia’s triumph over Catholic

Europe in anticipation of Russia’s leading role in the future historical development of

a panslav union.

Like prominent panslavs such as M. P. Pogodin and M. N. Katkov^,

Dostoevskii found that this panslav movement faced an on-going obstacle in a group

of Catholic Slavs—the Poles—whose recent uprising against Russian autocracy

signaled Polish reluctance to submit to a panslav federation governed by Russian

2Pogodin’s collection of essays, rioAbCKuù eonpoc {The Polish Question), and Katkov’s collection of articles, 1863 eod. Coffpanue cmameû no noAtcKOMy aonpocy {The Year 1863. A Collection o f Articles on the Polish Question.), testify to their animosity toward their Polish brethren who refused to recognize the benefits of belonging to the Russian empire.

144 authorities.^ In his October 1877 entries to JJneeHUK nucameAS, Dostoevskii

participated in the Panslavists’ vilification of Poland, a process that Tuminez

characterizes as the identification of Poland with the panslavs’ “other-image” (the

image of the West): “The panslav other-image targeted Poland (and, on occasion,

Jews and other foreigners) as enemies of Russia and the Slav nation. While Russia

was the bearer of Christ, Poland was Judas—corrupted by the Western kiss” (74).

In order to account for contemporary Poland’s hostilities toward Russia, panslavs

traced Poland’s historic opposition to its Slavic neighbor—an opposition embedded in

narratives about the Time of Troubles. For example, Pogodin published in

rpaoKdanuH (The Citizen) during 1872-73 a series of articles on the seventeenth-

century Russian patriots Kos’ma Minin, Dimitrii Pozharskii, Mikhail Skopin-Shuiskii,

and Ivan Susanin who helped defeat the Polish invaders.'* In this series, Pogodin

plans his historical analysis as a defense of these Russian nationalists against the

criticism of N. I. Kostomarov whom Pogodin attacks as pro-Polish (and therefore

anti-Russian) because of Kostomarov’s reliance on Polish historical sources to

support his contention that the Russian historical tradition mythologizes these

^Tuminez explains the viewpoint of these proponents of panslavism: “Panslav nationalists condemned Poles and western Slavs who were ‘contaminated’ by the WesL It was such contamination that prevented some of these Slavs from accepting Russian superiority and leadership; they failed to grasp that, as the preserver of the true Slavic way of life, Russia’s security superseded the rights of other Slav peoples’’ (69).

^Although only Pogodin s final article in this series, “3a Cycanana ” (“For Susanin”), was published in Fpaocdanun under Dostoevskii’s editorship (see his letter to Pogodin in November 1873), his correspondence with Pogodin in February 1873 as well as his dialogue with Pogodin’s historical analyses suggest that Dostoevskii was also interested in the content of the remaining articles on the Time of Troubles.

145 historical figures.^ For instance, Pogodin explains that while Kostomarov

characterizes Ivan Susanin as a robbery victim, he himself affirms Susanin’s

legendary role as the savior of the Russian tsar since Susanin preferred to endure

torture and death at the hands of the Poles and Lithuanians rather than disclose the

location of the newly-elected Russian tsar Mikhail Romanov (“3a CycaHMHa" 1232).

In this sense, the example of the Time of Troubles reinforced for panslavists the need

for Russia to exercise caution when dealing with Poland, because Poland’s past

relations with Russia demonstrated that a shared Slavic heritage did not preclude

Poland from remaining hostile toward Russian authority, regardless of the lure of

panslavism.

Dostoevskii’s presentation of panslavism inJJneeHUK nucameAa also includes

a similar warning against the Poles in his October 1877 entries in which he maintains

that Poles remained a threat to the stability of contemporary Russian society because

of their demand for independence from Russia, a demand that threatened the success

of panslavism. Like Pogodin, Dostoevskii looked to the seventeenth-century Polish

invasion of Russia for evidence of Russian national heroism as he indicates in an

August 1880 entry of JJneenuK nucameAH. In this entry, which contains the

introductory notes to his 1880 Pushkin speech, Dostoevskii draws upon this period

of Russian history to substantiate his belief that the Russian people represent a

^Kostomarov published his doubts about these historical figures in his 1871 article “JIh u h o c t h c M y x H o ro BpeMCHH: M nxaajt CKonMR-IIIyjicKHÜ.— noxapcKHü.— M h h h h .— CycaHHH" (“Personages from the Time of Troubles: Mikhail Skopin-Shuiskii.— Pozharskii.— Minin.— Susanin”).

146 vibrant force that can counteract the Western influences jeopardizing the future of panslavism:

Mbi yTBep^t^aevc, hto BMemaTb n HocwTb b ce6e cnjiy JiroSnmero M Bcee^UHantero flyxa mo^ho m npn Teneperaneii DKOHOMHuecKoü HHUteTe HameK, ga n ne npx TaKoA ente HMineTe, KaK Tenepb. Ee moxcho coxpaHHTb n BMentaxb b cede aaxte H npH raKOH HtmteTe, Kaxan 6biJia nocjie HamecTBHsi BaxbieBa mjim nocjie norpoMa CMyxHoro speMeHM, Korjta eflMHCXBeHHO BceettwHnntHM ttyxoM napo^HbiM 6buia cnacena PoccMa (XXVI: 132).

We maintain that it is possible to embody and bear within ourselves the strength of the loving and all-unifying spirit even in our contemporary economic impoverishment and in even worse poverty than now. It is possible to preserve and embody this strength in ourselves even during such poverty as we experienced after the invasion of Baku or after the massacre of the Time of Troubles, when Russia was saved only by the all-unifying spirit of the people.

Dostoevskii’s comments show that for him the Time of Troubles represents one of several historical manifestations of Russian unity which he hopes will be realized again in the near future. However, he does not present here the “other-image” of the

Poles which Pogodin found so central to a discussion of the Time of Troubles.

For a greater understanding of Poland’s relation to Dostoevskii’s historical presentation of panslavism, it is necessary to turn to his final novel, Bpambsi

KapoMa3oebi. The creation of his novel between his 1877 entries criticizing Poland and his 1880 introductory notes praising seventeenth-century Russian resistance to the

Poles infuse his presentation of Russo-Polish relations in EpambJi KapaMasoeu with

147 a historical dimension.® This historical dimension is enhanced by Dostoevskii’s

dialogue with Time of Troubles narratives in EpantbJi KapoMaaoeu, a dialogue that

allows him to further the binary opposition between the Catholic West and Orthodox

Russia in this novel. As Leonid Chekin, Nina Perlina, and Karen Stepanian indicate,

Dostoevskii associates Dmitrii Karamazov with A. S. Pushkin’s Bopuc Fodynoe

(Boris Godunov), a tragedy admired by Dostoevskii in his 1880 speech at the

unveiling of the Pushkin monument in Moscow, in order to emphasize Dmitrii’s

Russianness as he prepares for his encounter with the Poles. Furthermore, Chekin

and M. A. Antonovich find that the linking of the Poles to their demonized

counterparts in N. A. Chaev’s JJiLHumpuu CoMoseaneu,(Dimitrii the Pretender) or

M. N. Zagoskin’s lOpuu MuAOCAaecKUÛ uau P y c c m e e 1612 eody (lurii

Miloslavskii or The Russians in 1612) reinforces the Poles’ “other-image” in Bpamba

KapaMoaoeu. Expounding upon this research, I shall show that the presence of

Time of Troubles narratives in Bpamba KapaMaaoeu advances the stratification of

the Catholic West and the Orthodox Slavs in Dostoevskii’s final novel. As a result,

the confrontation between Dmitrii Karamazov and Pan Vrublevskii and Pan

Mussialovich comes to signify another historic precedent for the brewing conflict

between the Catholic Poles and Orthodox Russians.

^Wachtel, based on the similar themes found in these two works and on the chronology of their creation, finds that EpambJi KapoMOSoeu may even be read as an entry in ffneenuK nucamcAn: “I will read The Brothers Karamazov as if it were one more fiction within the Diary, and I will interpret the whole as an ambitious intergeneric dialogue on the topic of utopian historiography” (125).

148 5.2

Dostoevskii’s Discussion of Polish Participation in the Ultramontane Movement

In 1877, immediately preceding the writing of Bpamtsi KapaMaaoeu,

Dostoevskii investigated in his journalistic writings the contemporary threat of

Catholic expansion into Orthodox Russia, a threat which he believed would be carried

out in large part by Polish patriots on Russian soil. In a January 1877 entry of

JjHeeHUK nucameAH, he forms the concept of the “Mjtea KaTOJiimecKasi” (“Catholic

idea”) which had dominated the history of Europe for more than a millennium (XXV:

6). Dostoevskii concludes that this idea is a particularly de-stabilizing force in

contemporary Europe because of Pius DC’s pretensions to earthly power displayed

both by his proclamation of the dogma of papal infallibility^ and by his demands for

Catholics all over Europe to unite in order to liberate Rome from Italian occupying

troops.* Dostoevskii then expresses fears that the renewed strength of the

ultramontane movement will survive the imminent death of Pius IX because of

7ln his discussion of the ecumenical criticism of this dogma of papal infallibility (confirmed at the first Vatican Council in 1870), Jaroslav Pelikan summarizes the divisive impact of the dogma by quoting Johann Joseph Ignaz von Dôllinger’s protest against the dogma: ‘“If the doctrinal opinion about papal infallibility were truly to become a dogma of the church,' he warned in 1869, ‘that would open up an immense chasm [between the Roman Catholic Church and] the separate churches, the Greek and Russian [Orthodox] and the Protestant’” (252).

8ln “JJocToeBCKMd h BOHHCTByiomHK KaT0JiimH3M 1860-l870x rojtoB” (“Dostoevskii and Militant Catholicism of the 1860s and 1870s”), F. Evnin concludes that during his visit to Florence (then the Italian capital) in 1868, Dostoevskii would have become familiar with Pius DCs appeal to Catholics to defend his earthly power (30).

149 France’s long-standing Catholic tradition most recently evidenced by the support for

Catholic universalism amongst French monarchists in 1877:^

France, as the representative of Catholicism, must take care that nothing in any way changes or disappears from the organization of Catholicism established over the course of centuries...Catholicism here evidently accepted for all nineteen centuries as the common banner for the unification of the old order of things,—the unification against something new and imminent, vital and fateful.

In addition to France, Dostoevskii implicates Poland in what he calls a

“KaxoJiMuecKMw saroBop” (“Catholic conspiracy”) to restore the dominance of

Roman Catholicism throughout Europe (XXV: 12). His entries to MneenuK

nucame^m in September and October 1877 reveal his concern that Polish culture was

so dominated by Catholicism that it posed an on-going threat to Russia’s national

security. It is this conspiratorial image of the Poles that Dostoevskii presented in his

journalistic writings not long before his hiatus to complete BpambH Kapajnaaoeu.

His characterization of the Polish nation in a letter to I. S. Turgenev dated

June 17, 1863 reveals that Dostoevskii had long equated Polish culture with

Catholicism, particularly with Jesuitism. In his complaint concerning the Russian

^Like many of his contemporaries. Dostoevskii closely followed the French electoral contest scheduled for October 1877, since he feared that a victory for the ultramontane monarchists who promoted papal causes would result in Roman dominance over Europe. Indeed, the French Republicans preyed on these fears by insisting that the monarchists’ victory would lead to war with Italy on behalf of the Pope.

150 Press’s failure to understand N. N. Strakhov’s article “Pokobo K eonpoc” (“The

Fateful Question”), Dostoevskii summarizes for Turgenev his impression of Polish civilization:

HeKOTopbie xcypnajibi («jJcHb» Meacny npouMM) cepbeano cxajiM HaM AOKaabiBaTb, n ro nojibCKaa itHSUJinsaitMa TOJibKO noeepxHOCTHan, apncTOKpaTMuecKaH h neaynxcKaa, a cjiejioeaTejibHo, eosce ne sbiine naraeü. M npejtcTasbTe ce6e: noKaabiaaioT arc navi, a mw axo caMoe m WMejin a anay a nameR cxaxbe (XXVniii: 34).

Some journals {Day among others) seriously began to prove to us that Polish civilization is only superficial, aristocratic, and Jesuitical, and consequently, not at all superior to ours. And imagine—they are trying to prove to us precisely what we had in mind in our own article.

The 1877 entries to JJnesHUK flucameASi disclose a renewed sense of urgency about

Poland’s future within the Russian Empire by asserting that the Poles’ alliance to

Pius DC necessarily placed their sympathies with Catholic Western European nations who were actively sponsoring opposition to Russian autocracy. A discussion of

Dostoevskii’s attitude toward Poland exhibited in these entries will show his support for purging Poland of its papal connections and for subsuming the nation under the tsar’s sphere of influence so that Poland could participate fully in the future panslav federation in which the Russian Orthodox Church would play a leading role.

The September entry to JJhbbhuk nucamcASi focuses on the grave danger that may result from the papacy’s support for Turkey in her war against Russia. Here,

Dostoevskii is angered by the “aoMHCxayiomMM KaxojiMqM3M” (“militant

Catholicism”) espoused by the representatives of such European nations as France,

151 Austria, and Poland in an effort to threaten Russia’s autocracy (XXV: 13). Indeed,

the anxiety he expresses over British, Hungarian, and Polish participation in the

Turkish War against the Russians suggests that Dostoevskii revived his interest in the

Polish Question out of a concern that Poles were conspiring with the Vatican to

promote Turkey’s interests in its war with Russia in an attempt to de-stabilize the

Russian Empire.*® Dostoevskii identifies this news as particularly threatening

because such a conspiracy exposed Russia to a sustained conflict on two fronts—on

the Southern border with the Turks and on the Western border with the Poles

(supported by the other Catholic nations of Europe). In an attempt to alert Russian

officials to this Catholic conspiracy, Dostoevskii outlines in the third chapter of his

October 1877 entries in /JneenuK nucameAsi the dangers awaiting Russia from her

western borderlands as part of Rome's plan to disseminate Catholicism in the Russian

territories.

First, in his entry “PnMCKwe KJiepMKajibi y nac b Poccmm”(“Roman Clerics

Here in Russia”) Dostoevskii explains how the ultramontane threat was spread to the

Polish regions of Russia with the aid of the “pMMCKwe KJiepHKajibi” (“Roman

clerics”) whose main purpose for residing in Russia was to enstne the ultimate

victory of Catholicism over Orthodoxy. Quoting such newspapers as MocKoecKue

tODostoevskii’s fears were confirmed by reports published in May 1877 in Cawan- riemepôypecKue BedoMocmu (Saint Petersburg News) about Polish émigrés fighting with the Turkish legions against Russia. Dostoevskii’s frequent citations from this newspaper in M^eenuK nucameAA, particularly in his discussion of the Polish Question, testify to his likely kmiliarity with the newspaper’s multiple articles discussing the military activities of the Polish émigrés.

152 eedoMOcmu and the Hoeoe epeMsi (New Times) to further his argument, Dostoevskii

concludes that the reach of the Vatican extended into the borderlands of Russia:

y Hac. Ha naiHMX oKpaxHax, aa n BHyrpM, cbom phmckhc KjiepMKajibi Ha%ayTca...Ho crpaHHO Sujio 6u, ecjiw 6 BaTHKaHCKHH 3arOBOp MHHOBaJI HamHX pHMCKHX KJiepHKaJIOB H He ynoTpeÔMJi mx b aejio. CMyra, b rwjiy pyccxMx apMMw, HpeaBbiHawHO 6biJia 6 u Bw roflna BarMKany, ocoGenHo b HacTOJimyio MWHyry (XXVI: 55).

We have in our outlying areas, and even in our interior, our own Roman clerics...It would be strange if the Vatican conspiracy passed over our Roman clerics and did not use them in their affairs. Dissention at the rear of the Russian armies would be especially advantageous to the Vatican, particularly at the present moment.

To substantiate his suspicions, Dostoevskii outlines the close relationship between the

Archbishop of Poznan, Cardinal Ledochowski, and the Vatican as evidence of the

Cardinal’s intent to agitate further on behalf of the papacy.** Cardinal

Ledochowski’s possible ascension to the papal throne (after the death of the ailing

Pius IX) especially concerns Dostoevskii because of the Cardinal’s history of

participation in political activities for the benefit of the ultramontane movement,

activities which connected him to the Polish community in exile. *^ On the basis of

an article reporting Cardinal Ledochowski’s candidacy for the papacy that he cites

llLedochowski’s demonstration of support for Pius DC’s dogma of papal infallibility at the Vatican Council in 1870 as well as his continued efforts to enlist Wilhelm I’s aid in protecting Pius DC’s earthly authority earned Ledochowski the title of Polish Primate in 1873 and of Cardinal in 1875.

12Cardinal Ledochowski was one of the leading Catholic officials who consistently challenged Otto Von Bismarck’s anti-clerical policies, including his petitioning the Italian government to limit the political authority of the pope.

153 from Hoeoe epeMsi, Dostoevskii links the subversive activities in the Congress of

Poland to the Cardinal’s advancement of ultramontanism:

Yac OAHO H3BecTwe o Kan^MnaType JleaoxoBCKoro, necoMHeHHo nojibCKoro npoMcxoacjtcHMH, m6 o tojibko oflHa jierxoMucjieHHafl rojioBa noflbKoro aarpaHM^Horo arMxaxopa Moacex cepbeano noBepMXb, qxo phmckmü KOHKJiaB, HanojiHeHHwft xaxMMM XOHKMMM yMaMM, B COCXOHHMM 6bl 6bIJI XBK OIJienHyXbCfl waSpaHMeM Jle^oxoBCKoro (XXVI: 56).

The news of Ledochowski’s candidacy is certainly of Polish origin, for only the thoughtless mind of a Polish agitator abroad can seriously believe that the Roman conclave, full of such astute minds, would be capable of making such fools of themselves as to elect Ledochowski.

In this respect, the article from Hoeoe epeMSi confirmed Dostoevskii’s suspicions

about the participation of the Poles in a Catholic conspiracy on Russian soil: “Cxajio

6bixb, ecxb xce neuxo noxoxcee na bcxbm KJiepHKajibHoro aaroBopa, Moxcex

6bixb, M y Hac?” (‘Thus, there is perhaps something akin to the branches of a clerical

conspiracy even among us in Russia?”; XXVI: 56).^^

In the following entry, “Jlexnaa nortbixKa cxapoK FtojibmM MMpwxbca” (“A

Summer Attempt to Reconcile with Old Poland”), Dostoevskii identifies all of the

Polish aristocracy with the clerical conspiracy spreading across Europe. Echoing

I3ln the subsequent October 1877 entry “Buxoaxa «EupxceBux BeaoMocreh». He GoAxae, a 3Jibie nepba" (“The Escapades of Stock-Exchange News. Not Clever But Malicious Pens"), Dostoevskii asserts that Polish Catholic priests were especially suspect since their interest in de-stabilizing Russia arose both from their ardent nationalism as well as their desire to advance Catholic universalism. In this entry, Dostoevskii expresses his anger at a “anoGHbiA xcemta” (“spiteful Polish priest”) who ensures the detainment of a Russian scholar by denoimcing him as a “pyccxHh naHCJiaBHcx, tiponaraxop h araxaTop" (“Russian Panslavist, propagandist, and agitator"; XXVI: 59).

I'^When Dostoevskii uses the term “crapaa Ilojibma” (“Old Poland”), he refers to the Polish nobility, known as the szlachta, whose resistance to the Russian occupation of Poland led to the April Uprising of 1830 and the January Uprising of 1863. After these uprisings, many members of the

154 Kostomarovas trepidations concerning Polish emigres'^ desire to reconcile with Russia,

Dostoevskii concludes that owing to their political alliances: “nojiaK Crapou

rioJIbniH MHCTMHKTMBHO, CJICHO HCHaBMflMT POCCMK) M pyCCKMX" (“the PoIc of

Old Poland instinctively and blindly hates Russia and Russians”; XXVI: 57).

Furthermore, Dostoevskii describes Poland’s ties to the Society of Jesus and to the

papal state as stumbling blocks to their association with Russia since he suspects that

Old Poland was collaborating with the Vatican in order to undermine the authority of

the Russian autocracy:

O 3TM nojiHKM CTapoü riojibinH yneparox, u t o o h m eoBce He KJiepMKajibi, He nanMCTbi, ne pMMJiane h m t o m m aauHO ; io j i x c h m 3T0 3Haxb npo HMX. Ho BoodpasMXb xoJibKo, Hxo CxapaH IloJibnia, 3xa nojibCKaa 3MMrpaitMH, ne itepxcMxca nann b MeayMxcKOM cM ucjie, aaJiexa ox xjiepMxajibHMX 4>aHxa3MÜ, — o, Kaxan cMemnaa m m c j ib ! Mm jxm, mm jim ne Aepxtaxbcn BaxMKana, Koraa OHM xax bhojihc coanarox ero cMJiy m Bcerjta cosnaBajiM? Beat) BaxMKan ne MSMenaji CxapoA Ilojibine HMXoraa, a, HanpoxMB, noaaep^MBaji M3 Bcex CMa see ee ^lanxaaMM, xoraa apyrMe-xo rocyaapcxsa m x yxce m cayraaxb He xoxean! Hex, o h m B ax M x an y n e MSMeHMX, h B axM xan n e M3MeHMX m m (X X V I: 58).

Oh these Poles of Old Poland assure us that they are not at all clericals, papists, or Romans and that we should have known that about them long ago. But just imagine that Old Poland, this Polish emigration, does not adhere to the Pope in the Jesuitical sense and is far from the clerical fantasies—oh, what an absurd idea! Are they not, are they not supported by the Vatican, since they completely recognize, and always did recognize, its strength? After all, the Vatican never betrayed Old Poland, but on the contrary, supported all of her fantasies with all its strength when other states no longer even wanted to listen to them! No they will not betray the Vatican and the Vatican will not betray them.

szlachta (to avoid being imprisoned in Siberia) fled to Western Europe where they continued their political agitation in an attempt to liberate Poland from Russian rule.

155 Here Dostoevskii inextricably connects all PoUsb aristocratic exiles to the Jesuit worldview and to the Vatican conspiracy which threatened to destroy the

“Russocentric panslavism" that he envisions for the future. Because Dostoevskii identifies the Polish émigrés who wanted to return to an independent Poland as part of a clerical conspiracy, he insists that their presence on Russian soil could lead to civil unrest and another Polish rebellion. On this basis, Dostoevskii rejects the recent overtures by “Old Poland” since he continues to regard Poles as necessarily antagonistic toward Russians.

Dostoevskii also offers the Poles a single solution to overcome the historic animosity between these two nations—the acceptance of the Russian occupation of the Polish nation. For Dostoevskii, this occupation represents a successful beginning to the panslav movement since Poland’s unification with Russia would be to their mutual benefit:

E c T b Hosan Ilojibma, Ilojibma, ocBofio^AeHHan itapeM, Ilojibtna BospoacflaromancH m KOTopaa, HecoMHeHHo, Moacer oacwaaTb Buepean, e Sy^ymeM, paBHoK cyabSbi co ecaxMM cjiaBancKMM ujieMCHeM, Koraa cjrasHHCTBO ocboGoamtch m eocKpecHex b EBpone. Ho Cxapou IIojibmM HMKoraa He Syjtex, noxoMy axo yacMXbCH c PoccweK ona He Moacex (XXVI 58-59).

There is a New Poland, a Poland liberated by the tsar, a Poland that is being reborn and that can undoubtedly in the future expect a fate equal to that of every Slavic tribe when Slavdom is liberated and resurrected in Europe. But Old Poland will never exist, because she can not get along with Russia.

By depriving Poland of its independent existence firom Russia, Dostoevskii also reinforces Russia’s leading role in the future of panslavism. Nevertheless, he realizes

156 that this particular Slavic nation with such an mgramecT hostility toward Russia would

have difficulty submitting to Russian authority, so Dostoevskii looks to the uniting

spirit of the Russian People, particularly as it is embodied in Pushkin, to resolve the

tensions between Russia and the Polish nation. It is for this reason that, in the

introductory notes to his 1880 speech on Pushkin, he draws on various Russian

historical periods, such as the Time of Troubles or the invasion of Batu, which

embody the unified spirit of the Russian people, a spirit that would enable Russia to

lead the Slavic nations into a new historic era governed by panslav ideology.

These notes clarify that Dostoevskii depended on Pushkin’s influence to

achieve this harmonic state since the Pushkin celebration of 1880 (at which he read a

speech on Pushkin) represented another unifying event in the history of Russia:

“eejiHKoe IlyinKMHCKoe TopxecTBo, nocjiyacuBinee cotibiTweM uaraero

ettHHeHMU— euMHeuMa yxe Bcex otipaaoBaHHHX u ucKpeHHux pyccKHX Jiroaefi

UJia ôyuymeü npeKpacHeMtnew uejiu” (“it is the great Pushkin celebration, that has

served as an event of our unity—unity of all educated and sincere Russian people for

the future of a most beautiful purpose”; XXVI: 136).*^ Dostoevskii’s understanding

of his Pushkin speech not as mere literary criticism but as a public event made

meaningful by its impact on Russian society may be explained by the audience’s

reaction to his speech. He wrote to his wife on June 8th to describe the reaction that

his speech elicits from the onlookers: “njiaxajiM, pbmajiu, otiHMMajiM apyr Apyra n

t5ln Russian Literary Politics and the Pushkin Celebration of 1880, Marcus Levitt describes this event as a new beginning to the history of Russia since “Dostoevskii envisioned the Pushkin Celebration as the start of a new chapter of divine history” (13).

157 KASiAucb dpyz dpyey Gumt AynuiuMU, ne Henaeudemb enpedb dpyz dpyza, a

AH)6umb" (“they wept, sobbed, hugged each other and swore to each other to be

better, not to hate each other anymore but to love one another"; XXXi: 184). Morson

describes how Dostoevskii translated this event into narrative in the August 1880

entry of JJueenuK nucameAsi'.

The text of the speech itself, the second chapter of the issue, acquires new meaning from its contextualism within the Diary. Rather than a simple transcript of the oration, it becomes the first action in a narrative: and the readership is invited to consider both the content of the speech and the enthusiasm of the initial reception. They are, as Dostoevsky writes, asked to consider the “event,” not just the content of his address (106).

Dostoevskii outlines in his speech his hopes for the Pushkin celebration’s impact on

national civic development, i. e., on the evolution of the Russian national spirit.*®

Dostoevskii finds that this national spirit, reinforced by Pushkin’s artistic visions,

would be the means of reconciling Russia to Europe: “M6o uro xaxoe cwjia ayxa

pyccKod HapoflHocTM KaK He cxpeMJieHwe ee b KoneuHbix uejiax cbomx ko

BceMMpHocxM H KO BceuejioBeuHocxK?” (“For what is the strength of the spirit of

the Russian people if not its striving toward its own ultimate goals of universalism

and universal fellowship”; XXVI: 147).

From these 1877 and 1880 entries to JJneeHUK nucameAsi, it is possible to

ascertain that Dostoevskii, while writing Epambsi KapaMa3oebi, was considering

•^Levitt explains that Dostoevskii’s study of Pushkin signifies “aesthetics elevated to the central field of philosophical and moral inquiry" so that “the artist’s aesthetic intuition’’ leads to the path of enlightenment (132).

158 Poland’s place in the future of Slavdom. Because of Poland’s allegiance to Rome,

her historic animosity toward Russia, and Old Poland’s recent challenges to Russian

authority, Dostoevskii questioned Poland’s loyalty toward her Slavic brethren. Still,

in /fneeHUK nucameAH, Dostoevskii entertains the hope that either Poland will

voluntarily accept the benefits of membership in a future panslav federation governed

by the Russian tsar or that the indomitable spirit of the Russian people will overcome

centuries of Polish-Russian animosity to prevail upon Poland to support a policy of

“Russocentric panslavism” for the future of Europe. However, as a discussion of

BpambH KapaMa3oebi will demonstrate, Dostoevskii anticipates the likely failure of

this attempt at a rapprochement between Russians and Poles, since he understands the

many challenges associated with a reconciliation of such diametrically opposed forces

as Poland’s Roman Catholicism and Russia’s Orthodoxy.

5.3

Dmitrii Karamazov’s Encounter with a Historic Polish Threat

Because BpambH KapaMaaoeu “is a novel about the beginning of the end of

history” in that it is the “fictional equivalent of the apocalypse,” the conflict between

l^Wachtei’s following description of the compositional history of these two works testifies to their influence on each other “The Diary was published more or less monthly throughout 1876 and 1877. It was then broken off and not resumed until a single volume appeared in August 1880. Dostoevsky planned to continue it as a monthly in 1881, but had time to bring out only the January edition before illness and death intervened. It was precisely during the hiatus in the appearance of the Diary that Dostoevsky wrote and published his final novel, which appeared serially from January 1879 until October 1880 (although the basic outline of the Rnal chapter was already clear by the beginning of August 1880)” (125-26).

159 Orthodoxy and Catholicism plays a central role in the novel (Wachtel 146-7). In

Dostoevskii’s fictional embodiment of this apocalyptic struggle, the Orthodox ideal is

realized in the person of Alesha Karamazov: “The transmission of the true Orthodox

‘word’ of universal service from the pure but limited Zosima to the more worldly

Alesha is analogous to Dostoevsky’s vision of the Russian word’s historical

development as described in Diary of a Writer" (Wachtel 144). Over the course of

the novel, Alesha struggles against the temptation that Dostoevskii associates with the

Catholic Church in a March 1876 entry to JJueenuK nucamcASi— the temptation to

establish Christ’s kingdom on earth (XXII: 88). The pseudo-historical figure who

embodies this Catholic temptation in Bpamba KapaMasoeu is the Grand Inquisitor in

Ivan Karamazov’s sixteenth-century poem, «BejiMKnii Mkbm3mtop» (“The Grand

Inquisitor”).** As Ivan recounts in his poem, the Grand Inquisitor’s desire to realize

justice on earth leads him to build an earthly paradise based on “qyao, xa^na, n

aBTopMxer” (“miracle, mystery, and authority”; XIV 234). Alesha, too, is tempted

by this desire for immediate justice when he maintains that a landowner who killed a

serf for sport should be shot and when he wishes that the body of his deceased elder,

Zosima, perform miracles rather than tmdergo corruption so as to prove Zosima’s

holiness.

While Alesha faces these challenges to his Orthodox faith, his elder brother

Dmitrii encounters another threat to Russian society—one that Dostoevskii warns

18ln “ilocToeBCKHii m BOMHCTByiomHÜ KaT0JiMttH3M 1860-1870x roaoB,” F. Evnin links the persona of the Grand Inquisitor to the ultramontane controversies in Germany and France in the 1870s.

160 about in “JleTHHH nonbiTxa crapoK IloJibmii MMpnTbcsi”—the presence of Polish

patriots on Russian soil. Dmitrii’s exposure to this Polish threat in the form of the

Polish gentlemen he encounters at Mokroe, Pan Vrublevskii and Pan Mussialovich,

encourages him to follow his brother’s example of rededicating himself to Russian

spirituality as evidenced by Dmitrii’s spiritual regeneration following his vision of the

“AMxë” (“babe”) which occurs after his confrontation with the Poles. It is the

parallels between the Poles’ confrontation with Dmitrii and various Time of Troubles

narratives recounting the seventeenth-century conflict between Poland and Russia that

distinguish this scene as another chapter in the history of Russo-Polish antagonism.

For instance, Pushkin’s tragedy about the Time of Troubles, Bopuc Fodynoe, which

is closely associated with Dmitrii effectively connects him to both a historical period

and a historical narrative that Dostoevskii characterizes as significant for the

development of the Russian spirit in his August 1880 entry to JJneeHUK nucameAA.

Because this Pushkinian tragedy provides Dmitrii with a seventeenth-century

historical referent to his night at Mokroe, Dmitrii’s struggle with the Polish Pan

Mussialovich for the love of the “pyccxafl xpacoxa” (“Russian beauty”) Grushen’ka

also takes on historic significance as an allegory for long-standing Russo-Polish

tensions (XTV: 136). In presenting Dmitrii’s confrontation with the Poles within the context of this historical conflict, Dostoevskii advances his contention that European

Catholics, particularly the Poles, participated in an organized papal conspiracy which

161 threatened the future of Russian Orthodox universalism that he envisions in JJneeHUK nucameAsi.

When Dmitrii Karamazov, on his way to Mokroe, cites Pimen’s first words,

“Emë nocjieflHee cxasaHbe” (“Still a final narrative”) from Bopuc Fodynoe, Dmitrii links his own encounter with the Poles to Pimen’s final narrative relating the murder of the tsarevich Dimitrii whose premature death gave rise to an internecine period of

Russia’s history known as the Time of Troubles (XIV: 367). The historical significance of Pushkin’s Russian monk is addressed by Dostoevskii in his August

1880 issue of JJheenuK nucameAn:

O Twne pyccKoro MHOKa-jieTonwcita, nanpuM ep, moxcho 6wjio 6bi HanwcaTb qejiyio KHury, hto6 yxaaarb bck) BaxHOCTb m Bce BHaucHue iiJiH Hac oToro BejiwMaBoro pyccKoro oGpasa, OTbicxaHHoro IlyinKMHbiM B pyccKoK aeMjie, mm BbtBeaeuHoro, mm MSBaflHHoro yi nocTaBJieHHoro npea hbmm xenepb yxce naBexM b SeccnopHOM, CMMpeuHOM m BejiMMaBoü ayxoBHO# Kpacoxe CBoe#, KaK cBMjtexejibcxBO xoro MontHoro Jtyxa uapoano# xcmbhm , KoxopbiW Moxcex Bbmejisixb h3 ceSfl oGpasbi xaxoA neocnopMMofi npaBflbi. T mh dxox jtaH, ecxb, ero Hejibsa ocnopMXb, cKaaaxb, hxo OH BW^yMKa, Mxo OH xojibKo (&aHxa3M% M MAeaJiMBaqMa riooxa (XXVI: 144).

It would be possible to write an entire book about the character type of the Russian chronicler-monk, for example, that would show all the importance and all the significance that tlris majestic Russian image has for us, an image found by Pushkin in the Russian land, drawn out and sculpted by him, and now placed before us forever in its indisputable, humble, and majestic spiritual beauty as a testimony of the powerful spirit of the People’s life which can provide images of such undeniable truth. This character type is given, it exists, and it is impossible to challenge by saying that it is invention—that it is only a fantasy and an idealization of the poet.

162 Dostoevskii thus identifies Pimen as a historical figure inasmuch as he contributes to

the tradition of a nationalist aesthetic that, in Dostoevskii's view, defines Pushkin’s

artistic oeuvre. This emphasis on Pimen’s connection to the Russian spirit and the

Russian land further demonstrates this monk’s central role in Dostoevskii’s history of

the development of the Russian national spirit, a history that Pimen attempts to record

in his chronicle. Therefore, Dmitrii Karamazov’s citation of Pimen’s opening line

identifies him with the ever-unfolding historical chronicle of the triumph of the

Russian spirit which Dostoevskii hopes will unite the Slavs. Consequently, Dmitrii’s

confrontation with the Poles takes on political and historical overtones as it represents

not only the meeting of two rival admirers but also an encounter between two

adversarial nations (and religions) whose history of conflict is recorded not only in

Pimen’s chronicle but also in Dostoevskii’s final novel.

Although Pimen intends his “iipaBtuiBHe cKaaauba” (“truthful narratives’’)

as an instructive historical account for “noxoMKM npaBOCJiaBUHx” (“descendants of

the Orthodox”), this final account ends by shaking the foundations of the Russian

Empire since it provides the impetus for Otrep’ev’s pretendership (VII: 17). Initially,

Pimen mentions this account in Pushkin’s scene “ H o u b . Kejtsu b uyjtoBOM

is important to note here that Dostoevskii’s preliminary notes to Book Eight testify to his intent to depict in this scene not only the personal conflict arising from two men competing for one woman but also the animosity instigated by the confrontation between two historically-opposed nations—Poland and Russia (XV: 288).

163 MOHacTbipe” (“Night. A Cell in the Chudovii Monastery”) in order to demonstrate

that he fulfilled his duty to God:^®

Emë o&HO, nocjiejiHee cKaaanbe— M JieTonMCb OKOHMena moh , McnojiHen aojif , sanemaHHbiA ox 6ora Mne, rperanoMy (VII: 17).

Only one more, the last narrative— And my chronicle will be completed, Fulfilled is the duty bequeathed by God To me, a sinner.

Because Pimen appears to understand the chronicle’s potential for abuse, he

bequeaths his life’s work to his novice Grigorii Otrep’ev with a warning to remain an

observer of the world’s afihirs for the sole purpose recording them “ne Myapcxnya

jiyKano” (“without equivocation”; VII: 23). However, as Emerson notes, after Pimen

relates the details of Boris’s involvement in the tsarevich’s murder to Otrep’ev, this

historical testament becomes a living history capable of transforming Russian society:

Nothing happens, after all, but talk, and Pimen’s monologues are excruciatingly long. But in fact the scene is profoundly active: pretendership, samozvanstvo, is bom here, and bom directly out of a chronicler’s account...The novice does not want to record history, he wants to make it, and in this sense Pimen’s chronicle is midwife to the event (122).

Dmitrii Karamazov’s own reference to this historical episode therefore links his

activities at Mokroe both to the death of the tsarevich and also to the pretendership of

Otrep’ev since the pretendership was inspired by Pimen’s account of the tsarevich’s

20Dostoevskii’s decision to read this scene at the June 1880 gathering of the OOmecxBo jiwÔHTejieü poccH^CKOü cjioBecHocTM (Society for the Lovers of Russian Literature) in honor of Pushkin demonstrates Dostoevskii’s familiarity with Pimen’s opening scene in Pushkin’s drama.

164 murder."* Thus, Dmitrii Karamazov’s encounter with the Poles represents yet

another chapter in Pimen’s last chronicle account which remains unfinalized due to

Otrep’ev’s revision of Pimen’s final word.

Dmitrii's connection to Otrep’ev’s pretendership already begins when Dimitrii

confesses his dreams for a new life to his younger brother Alesha. In this scene,

Dmitrii’s description of his dream for the future echoes the False Dimitrii’s prophetic

dream from Bopuc rodynoe: “Saexpa Jieny c o6JiaKOB...3aBTpa k o h h m tc h

H HawneTca. McnbiTUBaji t u , Bw^aji t u b o cne, k b k b auy c ropu na^aioT?

Hy, Tax a Tenepb ne b o cne Jieay” (“Tomorrow I will fly from the

clouds...tomorrow life will end and begin. Have you ever felt, did you ever see in a

dream how you were falling from a mountain into a pit? Well, I am now falling, but

not in a dream”; XIV: 97)."“ Dmitrii, like his Pushkinian predecessor, understands

that these visions of falling from the great heights intimate that his new life may lead

to destruction, but still this danger of failure does not deter him from attempting to

change his destiny: “IIoTOMy aro ecJiM yx. nojieay b Geaany, t o TaK-TaKM npsiMo,

rojioBOM BHM3 M BBepx nHTaMw” (“Because if I am already going to fall into the

abyss, then I am going straight in with my head up and my heels down”; XIV: 99).

-In'ia Serman explains how the anger of the populace over the tsarevich's murder translated into popular support for Pushkin's pretender, since the “folk consciousness” allowed the populace to believe simultaneously that Otrep’ev is the deceased tsarevich and that Boris murdered Dimitrii of Uglich (35).

22 In Varieties of Poetic Utterance: Quotation in The Brothers Karamazov. Perlina points out that Dmitrii Karamazov’s description of his dream contains “indirect borrowings” both from Otrep’ev’s siunmary of his vision and from his discussion of ecstasy in battle (166).

165 The parallel imagery of Dimitrii's falling ftom the heights and Otrep’ev’s falling from

atop Moscow into a crowd demonstrates that these two protagonists share a

determination to throw themselves headlong into pursuing their ambitions in spite of

any disquieting premonitions. Yet, as a comparison of their dealings with Poles will

demonstrate, their journeys show varying degrees of success which depends on their

ability to negotiate with the Poles.

For example, while Otrep’ev’s association with various Poles in Bopuc

rodynoe secures him the Russian throne, Dmitrii’s discussions about his future life

with the Polish noblemen in Bpambu KapoMasoeu lead to the Poles’ implicating him

in parricide. Although Otrep’ev’s success with the Poles may be attributed, as

Emerson indicates, to his superior role-playing capabilities, Otrep’ev’s easy

assimilation to Polish culture may also be explained by his being oriented toward

Europe:^

Pushkin presented his Pretender as a new type of person in Russian life...In ^shkin’s portrait the Pretender is completely cut off from the sources of the people’s religious beliefs, from traditional passivity, from the habit of waiting for a saviour and a miracle. The ftetender, in Pushkin’s view, is the first Russian European (Serman 38).

Otrep’ev’s status as a Russian European allows him to adapt easily to the

Europeanized culture of the Polish aristocrats in Pushkin’s tragedy . I n BpambJi

23Emerson cites Otrep’ev’s “playing a Polish noblemen while courting Marina ” as evidence of his ability to play a variety of roles (Pretenders to History 262).

24lndeed, Irena Ronen concludes that Pushkin drew on the Europeanized high society of Aleksandr I’s St. Petersburg to create his Polish scenes (58).

166 KapoMOSoeu, on the other hand, Dmîtriï’s Russianness prevents him from accepting

the political ideology espoused by the patriotic Poles since nationalist loyalties govern

the relations between the Poles and Russians staying at the inn in Mokroe. As this

national divide develops. Dmitrii finds it increasingly difficult to associate with Pan

Vrublevskii and Pan Mussialovich who are angered by Dmitrii’s success in gaining

the affections of the Russian beauty, Grushen’ka. A comparison of Otrep’ev’s and

Dmitrii’s encounters with the Poles in their respective works will further elucidate

this polarization of nationalities at Mokroe.

In the Polish scenes in Pushkin’s drama, Otrep’ev seeks out a friendship with

the Poles, particularly with the reputed Polish beauty Marina Mnishek. In the first

Polish scene, Otrep’ev begins to associate with the Poles by agreeing with the

Catholic priest to advance Catholic interests in Russia, by fraternizing with the son of

Prince Kurbskii (who fled Ivan IV’s Russia for Poland), and by planning to meet

with the Polish leader Mnishek. As the second Polish scene suggests, it is

Otrep’ev’s courtship of the Polish aristocratic, Marina Mnishek, which particularly

attaches Otrep’ev to Poland to such an extent that he postpones his military activities

in order to remain with Marina: “Konta Bejwrr napcann,/ Fotobm mh; ho , bhoto ,

naHHa MHrnnex/ C /iMMMTpMeM aanepxHT Hac b njieny. ” (“When the tsarevich

orders/ We are ready; but, evidently. Lady Mnishek/ With Dimitrii holds us prisoner”;

25That Dostoevskii intends to present Dmitrii as the embodiment of Russia is evident from his November 1879 letter to N. A. Liubimov in which Dostoevskii describes Dmitrii’s character as “anojiHe pyccKMft" (“entirely Russian"; XXXi: 130). Furthermore, Dmitrii’s echoing Pimen’s words links his character to a series of Pushkinian historical types such as Pimen and Otrep’ev, whom Dostoevskii identifres as important for Russian cultural history (XIX: 15).

167 VU: 56). Otrep’ev is so overwHelmed by Ms passion for Marina in the following scene that he decides to risk the success of his pretendersMp by revealing his true identity to her. since he does not wish “flejiMTbCH c MepTBepoM/ JIioGoBHMueK, eviy npMHajtJiexamew” (“to share with a dead man/ The mistress who belongs to him"; VH: 61):

A xoqerab jim tm SHaxb, kto a raKoe? MsBOJib, cKaxty: a 6eaHbi% aepnopKseu: MoHamecKon H eBOJiero cxyqaa, H oa KJio6yKOM, CBOM saM Hceji oxBaacHbiii OGayMaji a, ro x o B M J i innpy a y a o — M HaKOHeit M3 KejiMM Seacaji K yKpaMHuaM, b mx GyfiHue xypeHM, Bjiaaexb KOHeM m caGae# Hayanaca; HBMaca K bbm; JiMMMxpMeM nasBaaca M noaaxoB ôesMosraux obManya (VII: 61).

And would you like to know who I am? Let me tell you: I am a poor monk: Tired of monastic enslavement. Beneath my cowl, a brave design I pondered, prepared a miracle for the world — And finally I fled from my cell To Ukraine, to their unruly Cossack troops. Learned to handle a horse and sable; Came to you; Called myself Dimitrii And deceived the brainless Poles.

In light of his characterization of the Poles as “6e3M03FJibie” (“brainless”), Otrep’ev’s decision to reveal the truth about Ms identity testifies to his personal connection to

Marina. After she rejects Ms marriage proposal because of Ms status as an impostor.

Otrep’ev’s unrequited love for Marina only makes him more resolved to draw on

Polish support in order to become the Russian tsar. Otrep’ev understands that since

168 the Poles have a vested interest in his maintaining the identity of the Tsarevich

Dimitrii, he can count on their aid. Consequently, his pretendership is even more

closely linked to the Poles as a result of his affection for the Polish aristocrat Marina

Mnishek.^®

Similarly, Dmitrii Karamazov’s search for a new life with Grushen’ka leads to

his confrontation with the Poles at Trifon Borisych’s inn. Like Pushkin’s pretender,

Dimitrii engages in role-playing in order to secure the affections of his intended:"^

O h cMOTpeji na scex poÔKo w paflocTHo, nacxo m nepBHo XHXMKaa, c SjiaroaapHbiM SH^OM BMHOBarow codanoHKM, KOTopyio onnTb npmiacKajiM n o n n rb BnycTMJiM. Oh kbk Gyqro Bcë 3a6bin m orjinnbiBaji Bcex c BocxMnteHHMeM, c nexcKoio yjibiÔKOM. Ha PpyineHbKy cMorpeji 6ecnpepbiBHo cvtencb m npHnBMHyji CBO# cxyji snjioxb k caMOMy ee xpecjiy (XIV: 378).

He looked timidly and joyfully at everyone, giggling repeatedly and nervously, with the grateful look of a guilty puppy, which is petted again and again let in. As if having forgotten everything, he looked around at everyone delightedly, with a child-like smile. He looked at Grushen’ka, laughing continually, and moved his chair right up to her armchair.

Dmitrii’s desire to please Grushen’ka, suggested here by his submissive behavior,

also leads him to be particularly accommodating to her former lover as evidenced by

26This tendency is more pronounced in JJuMumpuu CaMoaaanen, Chaev’s sequel to Pushkin’s tragedy. In Chaev’s drama, Dimitrii adopts Polish culture, uses Polish language and associates with Polish nobility in order to secure Marina’s ahections. Ultimately, Dimitrii’s adherence to Polish customs even causes the Russian People to reject his leadership at the end of the drama.

27This description of Dmitrii’s role-playing agrees with Chekin’s characterization of Dmitrii’s pretendership in the novel as “personal” (86). Indeed, this submissive and child-like behavior further substantiates Chekin’s claims concerning Dmitrii’s pretendership: “The story develops, revealing Dmitrii’s true and better personality under the layer of his false self. This true personality of Dmitrii manifests itself in a dream he has after his arrest about a crying, cold and himgry ‘babe’ Cmnë)” (86).

169 Dmitrii’s using the Polish title “IlaHe” (“Gentlemen”) when speaking to Pan

Vrublevskii and Pan Mussialovich. Dmitrii even extends these Polonisms to

Grushen’ka by using a Polonized Russian word “Kpyjieea” (“queen”)—a hybrid of the Russian “xopojieBa” and the Polish “krdlowa”—to address her. Grushen’ka herself draws attention to this behavior so uncharacteristic of Dmitrii: “^a h t o

Kpyjiesa, 3t o Kopoaeaa, h t o jim? — nepeÔMJia Bupyr FpyraeHbKa. — H cMemno

MHe Ha sac, Kax b h Bce roeopMre” (“What’s this k r u le v a , a queen or something?

It seems strange to me...the way you’re all talking”; XTV: 377). When Grushen’ka here hints that Dmitrii’s Polonisms link his speech patterns to that of the Poles, she recognizes his attempt to adapt to the Polish realm that he encounters at Mokroe.

Yet. whereas Otrep’ev’s love for the Polish aristocrat Marina further aligns him with Poland against Russia, Dmitrii Karamazov’s admiration of the Russian beauty Grushen’ka encourages him to challenge Pan Vrublevskii and Pan

Mussialovich. Grushen’ka, herself, is characterized as the embodiment of Russian womanhood by the narrator, because her beauty “MacTo BCTpeqaeTca MMeuHO y pyccKoA MceHmMHbi” (“is often encountered precisely in a Russian woman”: XIV:

137). Such Russian women constitute an integral part of Dostoevskii’s panslavism since he depends on them for the future “HpaBCTseHHoe BOOBwmeHMe namero oSmecTBa” (“moral elevation of our society”) as he explains in the September 1877 issue of JJneeHUK n u c a m e A si:

Ho r j i a s H o e m caMoe cnacMxejibHoe oÔHOSJieHwe p y ccx o ro obmecTBa Bunaflex, Geccnopeo, na nojiio pyccxoK aceHmMHbi.

170 riocjie HbiHemneK bo Kh u , b K o x o p y io tbk bhcoko , tbk cbctjio , TBK CBHTO iiposBHJia cc6n Hama pyccKaa xenmHHa, H e jib s s i yxce COMHCBaTbCa B TOM BHCOKOM yjlCJie, KOTOpbl^ HeCOMHeHHO D^MHaer ee Mex^y HaMM (XXVI: 33).

But the main and most salvific renewal of Russian society inarguabiy falls to the lot of the Russian woman. After the present war, in which our Russian woman has proven herself so loftily, so radiantly, and so sacredly, it is impossible to doubt that lofty fate that certainly awaits her among us.

This emphasis on Grushen’ka’s connection to Russian culture betrays a nationalist

dimension to Dmitrii’s competition with her Polish admirer for the love of this

Russian beauty.^® In the end, it is Grushen’ka’s and Dmitrii’s Russianness that

encourages them to unite against the Polish gentlemen. Pan Vrublevskii and Pan

Mussialovich, who come to represent the “other-image” at Mokroe.

The conflict between these two nationalities comes to a climax when Dmitrii,

in an attempt to appease Pan Vrublevskii and Pan Mussialovich, toasts Poland and

Russia. Although Dmitrii joins the two men in drinking to Poland, the two Poles

refuse to participate in the toast to Russia and instead drink “3a Poccwio b

npeaeaax Ao ceMbcor ceMbaecar BToporo roga!’’ (“To Russia within her borders

before 1772!”; XIV 383).^^ In the aftermath of this toast, Grushen’ka becomes so

annoyed with these expressions of Polish patriotism that she interrupts a proposal by

28Dostoevskii wrote in his notes to the novel that this scene reflects not only the competition between Dmitrii and Pan Mussialovich for Gmshen’ka but also the conflict “O Ilojibine h Poccmm" (“about Poland and Russia"; XV 288).

29rhis date refers to the first partition of Poland amongst Austria, Prussia, and Russia. It was a demand associated with the Polish insurgents during the 1863 January Uprising in Russian-occupied Poland.

171 her Polish lover with a demand that he speak in Russian: “IIo-pyccKH, roBopu no- pyccKM, uTodbi HU o^HOFo cJioBa nojibCKoro He 6bijio! — aaKpMHajia ona na

Hero. — roBopMJi ace npeacae no-pyccKM, neyacejiM aaSwjib njiTb jict! — Ona

Bca noKpacHejia ox rneBa” (‘“In Russian, speak in Russian, so that there isn’t a single word in Polish! ’ she screamed at him. ‘You used to speak in Russian, have you already forgotten in five years!’ She turned red with rage”; XV: 387-88).

Grushen’ka’s exposure to her former lover’s patriotism further enrages her so that by the time he questions her respectability, she is ready to abandon all ties to Pan

Mussialovich. Dmitrii’s victory then appears complete since he has successfully challenged Grushen’ka’s Polish lover and secured the love of his Russian beauty owing to her aversion to the Polish culture. More important for Dmitrii, his confrontation with the Poles at Mokroe decisively removes Grushen’ka from the influence of her former lover. Pan Mussialovich, and encourages Dmitrii to believe in the possibility of a future with her.

In this manner, the Mokroe chapter in this Russian chronicle juxtaposes

Russia with Poland as Grushen’ka is presented not only with a choice between two potential lovers but also between two different nations. Her sustained criticism of the patriotism of Pan Vrublevskii and Pan Mussialovich as well as her subsequent decision to stay with Dmitrii further substantiates Dostoevskii’s thesis regarding the irreconcilable differences between Russians and Poles as expressed in “JlexHan noHHTxa cxapoM IIojibinM MMpMXbCH” (XXVI: 58). This Russo-Polish conflict

172 ends with Russia’s triumph over Poland since Dmitrii ultimately prevails in the

competition with Pan Mussialovich for Grushen’ka’s love. In this respect,

Grushen’ka’s choice of Dmitrii as her future spouse also serves to validate his

Russo-centric political views to the detriment of Pan Mussialovich’s Polish

patriotism. The ramifications of this Russian animosity toward Polish patriotism for

Dostoevskii’s panslav historiography will be explored further in a discussion of

Bpambst KapaMaaoeu's dialogue with the tradition o f the Russian historical novel,

specifically with Zagoskin’s lOpuu MiviocAaecKuu.

5.4

Zagoskin’s HDpuü MmiocAaecKuü and the Polish-Russian Controversy

Zagoskin’s nationalistic novel represents a historical predecessor to

Dostoevskii’s Bpamba KapoMaaoeu in that both novels explore the Russian triumph

over a historic Polish threat to the nation’s stability.Both Dostoevskii and

Zagoskin combine historical and fictional elements in their respective novels in an

effort to validate the Slavophile ideology promoting Russia’s superiority over the

Western Slavs. Dostoevskii’s description of the Time of Troubles in /fueenuK

niicameAH (discussed at the beginning of this chapter) parallels Zagoskin’s patriotic

portrayal in that these novelists characterize the historical period as formative for

30Dostoevskii’s interest in Zagoskin’s historical novel was not only limited to his childhood fascination with the Romantic historical genre discussed in the second chapter above. P. G. Kuznetsov remembers that while working for Dostoevskii’s publishing business during 1879-81, Fedor Dostoevskii took an interest in his education by recommending him books, the first of which was Zagoskin’s lOpuii MiLtocAaecKuu (335).

173 Russian national consciousness. Like Dostoevskii, Zagoskin finds that this superiority lies in the “;tyx napoaa pyccKoro” (“spirit of the Russian People”) which he believes is responsible for the growing opposition to the Polish-sponsored regime occupying Moscow in 1612. As a result of their patriotic portrayals of the Time of

Troubles, the two authors consistently faced accusations that they use Polish characters as foils for their Russian counterparts in an attempt to underscore their noble Russian characters. For instance, as Dan Ungurianu notes, Zagoskin’s unduly patriotic depictions of the Russians during the Time of Troubles earned him the criticism of his contemporaries who accused him of “caricaturing the enemies of

Russia” in order to highlight the great feats of his Russian characters (94). Also,

Mark Al’tshuller finds that Zagoskin’s Poles seem like “the imagined enemies of brave Russian warriors” (79). Jerzy Stçmpowski launches a similar complaint against

Dostoevskii’s depiction of Poles: “Dostoevskii did not intend and, judging by the lack of applicable pertinent material, would not have been able to present Poles as they were or as they appeared to be in reality. His Poles are fictional constructs under the name of Poles” (186). Then, Stçmpowski concludes that in Dostoevskii’s fiction these “constructs” serve as stock representatives of a morally-bankrupt

Western European culture which opposes the rich Russian heritage. A comparison of the encounters between these two nationalities in Zagoskin’s and Dostoevskii’s

Russian nationalistic novels will trace how Dostoevskii incorporates into the narrative of Epambsi KapoMaaoeu Poland’s historic opposition to Russia. The reactions of

174 Zagoskin’s Russian patriots, lurii Miloslavskii andMitîa, and Dostoevskii’'s Russian protagonists, Alesha and Dmitrii Karamazov, toward Polish presence on Russian soil will demonstrate that Epamtsi KapoM asoeu 's dialogue with Zagoskin’s historical novel establishes a certain continuity between the Russo-Polish conflicts of the seventeenth and nineteenth centuries.

In Zagoskin’s and Dostoevskii’s novels, the Russo-Polish conflict climaxes at similar feast scenes in which the fictional characters address the political issues shaping their respective narratives. In both scenes, the characters’ loyalty to Russia is tested when they are challenged to join in a toast at a feast. In K)pm

MujiocAoecKuii, this challenge is aimed at the title character, lurii Miloslavskii, who throughout the novel struggles with divided loyalties between his love for his native

Russian homeland and his oath of obedience to the Polish-sponsored provisional government headed by King Sigismund’s son. Prince Wladyslaw, an oath motivated by a desire to end the destructive internal strife threatening the well-being of Russia.

This scene represents the first time in which lurii aligns himself with the Russian side in the civil war against the Poles and the Polish sympathizers. Since up to this point in the novel he has been primarily in the company of Russian patriots, he has found himself defending his decision to swear an oath to Prince Wladyslaw against those who view lurii as a traitor. Yet, at the house of the Polish sympathizer, Timofei

Kruchina, lurii Miloslavskii finally has an opportunity to socialize with the Poles with whom he is collaborating. Pan Kopychinskü remains the most prominent example of

175 a fictional Polish character in the novel as is underscored by the frequent Polonisms

in his speech. lurii sets himself at odds with the Poles at Kruchina’s when he

characterizes Pan Kopychinskü as a coward (a characterization already substantiated

for the reader who knows of his desertion during battle). Then, lurii’s subsequent

refusal to toast King Sigismund’s victory over the inhabitants of Smolensk (lurii’s

native town) only further angers the Poles as well as the host Timofei Kruchina,

since the refusal means that lurii stUl maintains loyalties to Russia.

lurii Miloslavskii’s gradual distancing from his Polish associates at

Kruchina’s has a parallel in Grushen’ka’s growing aversion to her Polish

acquaintances which increases over the course of the feast at Mokroe. Dostoevskii’s

injection of “Polonized Russian’’ into the scene at Mokroe first signals his dialogue

with the tradition of Zagoskin who also uses such Polonisms to emphasize the

cultural divide between Russia and Poland (Collins 433).^^ M. A. Antonovich

establishes a further link between the two novels in his comparison of the characters

of Pan Mussialovich and Pan Kopychinskü: “Initially she [Grushen’ka] is in love—it

is strange to say—with a Pole, Pan Mussialovich, who in the author’s depiction

strongly resembles Pan Kopychinskü in turii Miloslavskii in that the former is

presented as stupid, shaUow, and coward in the same way that the latter is in

Zagoskin” (412). Unlike Zagoskin’s Poles at Kruchina’s, Dostoevskü’s Poles at

Mokroe are not entirely fictional characters since they share names with two

31 Daniel Collins notes this tendency in Bpambu KapoMasoeu in his discussion of Pan Vniblevskii’s speech: “Here foreignness is presented as a symptom of an intentionally uncommunicative attitude" (433).

176 nineteenth-century Polish political exiles. Mitia’s toast to Poland and Russia brings

the political concerns of such exiles to the foreground, concerns which prove

polarizing for the Russians and Poles at Mokroe.

Polish Dostoevskii scholarship frequently faults Dostoevskii for his

stereotypical depictions of Poles. For example, Stçmpowski establishes a topology of

Dostoevskii’s portrayals of Poles who, as a rule, are formed from two contradictory parts:

The first part is formed from a sensitive feeling of pride and honor, a somewhat formal patriotic concern, a mystical faith in one’s own self- worth, and a deliberate attachment to a solemn form of life. The second part is formed from the cleverness of a pickpocket seizing on every occasion with a complete lack of scruples and ambition (187).

W. Lednicki maintains that the Poles in Bpamtsi KapaMasoeti are entirely superfluous to the plot: “Grushenka’s story in The Brothers Karamazov could have been accomplished without the participation of Pan Wrdblewski and Pan

Musiatowicz. All these Poles appear to be insulted and injured, and they are all rascals” (284). However, these two Poles are unique in Dostoevskii’s oeuvre in that he endows them with names of his Polish contemporaries who were known to engage in subversive activities. The importance of political issues for Dostoevskii’s two Polish characters becomes evident when they refuse to drink to nineteenth- century Russia because the Kingdom of Poland lies within Russia’s borders. Instead, their toast to Russia before her 1772 borders amounts to a demand for Poland’s liberation from Russian occupation. The expression of this political viewpoint not

177 only alienates the Russians, in particular Grushen’ka, at Mokroe but also links these

two Polish characters to the anti-Russian conspiracy perpetuated by the Polish artistocracy that Dostoevskii describes in the October 1877 entries to JJneenuK nucameAsi.

To put a face on these Polish conspirators, Dostoevskii provides these two

Poles with the names of Polish exiles. Grushen’ka’s former lover. Pan

Mussialovich, shares a surname with Dostoevskii’s fellow political prisoner, Jan

Musialowicz, who was sentenced to two years in Siberia. In his prison memoirs,

Siedem lat katorgi {Seven Years of Penal Servitude), Szymon Tokarzewski remembers that Musiatowicz was one of four Polish prisoners who arrived in Siberia in 1850 and describes him as being one of the unskilled laborers who were forced to do heavy work (176-77). Dostoevskii confirms Musiatowicz’s presence in the camp in his semi-autobiographical novel, 3anucKU U3 Mepmeozo doMa {Notes from the

House o f the Dead). When describing four Poles who lived with him in the prison, two of whom (Karol Bem and Jdzef Anczykowski) are identified by name, the narrator says that the remaining two Poles “SbiJiM eme oqeub vtojio^uwe npHCJiaHHfaie ua KopoTKwe cpoKM, MajiooSpaaoBamrMe, ho «tccTHBte, npocTBre, npsMHe” (“were still very young men sentenced to brief terms; the men had little education but were honest, simple, and straightforward”; IV: 217). Dostoevskii tiints at Pan Mussialovich’s historical counterpart in Epambsi KapoMasoett with repeated references to his life in Siberia. Even before Pan Mussialovich appears on the scene.

178 he is associated with Siberia when he sends Grushen’ka a “nocJiaHMe H 3 CnSnpM”

(“message from Siberia”) in order to arrange their meeting (330). Fenia then

underscores Pan Mussialovich’s connection to Siberia when describing Grushen’ka’s

whereabouts to Dmitrii Karamazov: “SaviyjK renepb Arpa^eny AjieKcan^tpoBHy

B03bMeT, c TeM M M3 CMÔwpM BcpHyjicji” (“He is going to marry Agrafena

Aleksandrovna now, for that he returned from Siberia”; XTV: 368). This linking of

Pan Mussialovich with Siberia and with the exiled Jan Musialowicz marks him as a

potential political subversive in the novel.

Pan Vrublevskii shares a name with an even more politically divisive

historical figure who participated in the 1863 Uprising—Walery Wrdblewski. After

the failure of the uprising, Walery Wrdblewski fled to Paris where he dedicated

himself to promoting socialist causes, particularly those which also could lead to the

liberation of Poland from Russian rule. As a leading member of the Towarzystwo

Demokratycznego Polskiego (Society for Polish Democracy), he worked with such

left-wing radicals as Friedrich Engels and M. A. Bakunin to promote Polish interests.

Dostoevskii may have read about Wrdblewski’s activities while in Geneva in 1867

since Wrdblewski’s political allies from the Geneva Commune participated in the

September 1867 conference in Geneva which was sponsored by The League of Peace

32a majority of the members of the Geneva Commune, an organization which arose out of the former Stowarzyszenie Bratniej Pomocy Polakdw (Association for the Fraternal Assistance for Poles), belonged to The League. The large number of Polish exiles in Geneva, who emigrated following the Russian suppression of the 1863 Rebellion, may account for their substantial presence at The League’s gathering. For statistical analyses of Switzerland's population of Polish émigre§ following the Polish Uprising, see Jerzy Borejsza’s Emigracja Polska Po Powstaniu Styczniowym (Polish Emigration After the January Uprising 25-27).

179 and Freedom. ^ Yet, Wrdblewski’s participation in the Paris Commune would have

been of still greater interest to Dostoevskii. Since the heroic exploits of the Polish

generals, Walery Wrdblewski and Jarostaw Dt^browski, were published in the press,

Dostoevskii could have easily read about their armed defense of the city.

Wrdblewski’s enthusiastic promotion of such French socialist causes would have

marked his political ideals as hostile to Dostoevskii’s panslavism, since Dostoevskii

associates French socialism with Catholic universalism, as he explains in a January

1877 entry to JJneeHUK nucameASi: “M6 o counajiM3M (&paHuy3CKM% ecTb ne nxo

MHoe, KaK HacuAbcmeeHHoe eanHenne uejioBenecTBa — n^tea, eme o t

npeanero Pmmb n^tymaa n noxoM Bceuejio b KaxojiaaecxBe coxpaHMBraaaca”

(“For French socialism is nothing other than a forcible union of humanity—an idea

originating in Ancient Rome which was then preserved completely in Catholicism”;

XXV: 7). Through his connection to this exiled Polish socialist. Pan Vrublevskii

represents the voice of opposition to Russocentric panslavism inBpamba.

KapaMa3oeu as is suggested by his refusal to toast Russia unless the toast excludes

the Russian-occupied territories of Poland, i.e., unless the toast is “3a Poccmk) b

rrpettejrax ;to ccmbcox ccMBjtecax Bxoporo rojtaf’* (“To Russia within her borders

before 1772!”; XIV: 383).

Grushen’ka’s reaction to the toasts to Russia and Poland demonstrates that

she remains critical of the Poles’ desire for Poland’s independence from Russia and

33por a discussion of Dostoevskii’s impression of the conference, see the second section of chapter four.

180 therefore also rejects their socialist and Catholic ideas with which their cause is

associated. Her failure to drink the first toast to Poland already reveals her animosity

toward Poland which becomes even more pronounced when compared to her reaction

to Dmitrii’s toast to Russia: “Hajiefi m naM, — CKasajia PpynieHbKa, — i a

PoccMK) M a xoHy HMTb” (‘“Pour some for us,’ said Grushen’ka, ‘even I want to

drink to Russia”: XIV: 383). When Pan Vrublevskii then modifies the toast to

Russia. Grushen’ka becomes increasingly irritated with the two Poles, because of

their frequent expressions of disdain for the Russians at Mokroe. In this respect, the

toast in Bpamba KapaMasoeu serves to distance Grushen’ka from her past with her

Polish lover and, consequently, advances her relationship with her Russian love

interest, Dmitri Karamazov.

In their toast scenes, in their respective novels, the Russianness of Grushen’ka

and lurii Miloslavskii is underscored by their relationship with another Russian

named Mitia. In K)piiu MuAOCAaecmû, the topodueuH (holy fool) Mitia first

protects lurii by distracting the Poles and Kruchina who were enraged over lurii’s

refusal to toast the Polish king.^ Because Mitia enjoys the protection of one blessed

by God, no one tries to harm him when he insults the Poles. However, Mitia is a

polarizing force for the Russians in the scene, since his presence at Kruchina’s

inspires mixed feelings amongst the Russians. Although Kruchina initially recognizes

him as “bjraxeHHUM” (“blessed”), Mitia’s criticism of his consorting with the Poles

3'^The holy foolishness, closely associated with Eastern Orthodox asceticism, is “the assumption of madness or folly as an ascetic feat of self-humiliation" (Murav 2). The ultimate goal of this anti- authoritarian figure is to become “God’s trusting little one" and "so shame the worldly wise" (Saward II).

181 encourages Kruchma to insult him with various epithets, including: “SeayMHuii”

(“lunatic”), “3Men” (“snake”), and “Gpoasra” (“tramp”; 88-89). lurii, on the other

hand, connects with his past life in Russia through Mitia: “Mne noMHWTca, Mnxa, h

BMjtaji xeÔH y noKoAuoro ôaxroinKM? — cxasaji JiacKoeo lOpMü” (“‘I seem to

remember. Mitia, that I saw you at my deceased father’s?’ said lurii gently.”; 88).^^

Mitia here plays the role of lurii’s counselor by advising him not to drink with these

Poles but to take refuge, perhaps in Trinity monastery, where lurii will not have to

grapple with the political struggle occupying the nation. Mitia, thus, urges lurii to re-

dedicate himself to Russia by rejecting any association with the Poles.

Similarly, in Bpamtsi KapoMasoeu, Dmitrii Karamazov, who is often called

by his nickname Mitia, reveals the dishonest nature of Pan Vrublevskii and Pan

Mussialovich in an effort to encourage Grushen’ka’s contacts with Russian society.

On the night that he meets Grushen’ka in Mokroe, Mitia Karamazov shares with

Zagoskin’s Mitia several behavioral characteristics, e.g., the anti-authoritarian behavior

and the spontaneous theatricality, of a topodueuà. Mitia Karamazov draws attention

to his own role-playing by invoking the image of a Shakespearian jester to reinforce

his foolish roler “H mchho xenepB IfopriK, a xepen noxow” (“Precisely now I am

Yorick and a skull afterwards”; XIV: 367). Others characterize Mitia as “rjiynuft”

(“foolish”) and as a “aypax” (“fool”), terms which A. M. Panchenko finds to be

Zagoskin’s novel, lurii’s father is the image of Russian patriotism. Indeed, throughout lOpuii MiLiocAaecKuù his father’s heroic defense of Russia is juxtaposed with lurii’s decision to collaborate with the Polish occupiers, because those who knew his father do not understand lurii’s allegiance to Wladyslaw.

182 synonymous with those used to describe holy fools: “«lOpoAWBufi» n «aypaK» —

3T0, B CyntHOCTM, CMHOHHMbl. B CJIOBapaX XlV-XVin BB. CJIOea «lOpOflCTBO»,

«rjiynocTb», «SywcTBo» cTonxb o^hom cwHOHMMMMecKOM paay" (‘“Holy fool’ and ‘fool’—these are essentially synonyms. In dictionaries of the XIV-XVIII centuries, the words ‘holy foolishness’, ‘foolishness’, and ‘unruly behavior’ rank on a synonymical par”; 100).

The divine dimension to Mitia’s theatrics is suggested by his “simplicity of heart” and by his “childlikeness” both of which provide the holy fool with God’s own protection (Saward 30). On the night that he travels to Mokroe, Mitia displays the “gentle, trusting heart of a child” when he is duped by Samsonov, Liagavii, and

Grushen’ka (Saward 30). At Liagavii’s, when Mitia realizes that Samsonov has sent him on a fool’s errand, the narrator relates that “oh necb caw ocjiaOeji xax peSeHOK” (“he became as weak as a child”; XTV: 342). Mitia has a similar reaction when he arrives at Grushen’ka’s house and finds that she has deceived him by leaving for Mokroe to meet her former lover: “Oh thxo m xpoxKO, xax xmxmm m jiacKOBbiM peOeHOK, 3aroBopnji c Oened” (“He began speaking softly and meekly with Fenia, like a gentle and affectionate child”; XIV: 357). The peasant who drives

Mitia to Mokroe then establishes the connection between Mitia’s childlikeness and

God’s favor: “A Bbi y Hac, cyaapb, ace o#Hoxax MajiMÜ pe6 eH0 K...H0 3a npocxottyniHe Bame npocxnx rocnojtb” (“You are to us, sir, just like a little

183 child...but for your simple-heartedness God will forgive you”; XIV: 372).^® The

significance of this simple-heartedness becomes clear at Mokroe where child imagery

again surrounds Mitia: “O h k u k ôyjtTo s e e aadbiji m orjiHAHSaji B c e x c

BocxHmeHHMeM, c acTCKOK) yjtwÔKoK” (“As if having forgotten everything, he

looked aroimd at everyone delightedly, with a child-like smile”; XIV: 378). When

Mitia’s evening then culminates in his vision of the “jtHTë” (“babe”), his character

becomes permanently associated with childlikeness since Mitia becomes “a living

symbol of the metaphysical suffering babe” (Silbajoris 33).

At Mokroe, Mitia Karamazov acts irrationally and spontaneously as a means

of exposing the Poles’ deceitful nature to Grushen’ka in the same way the lurii uses

lopodcmeo to show lurii the true nature of the Polish invaders. As has been

demonstrated above, Mitia’s unmotivated desire to toast Russia and Poland leads to

the polarization of these two nationalities at Trifon Borisych’s inn. Additional

outbursts of Mitia’s continue to reveal the false pretenses of the Poles. For example,

in response to Pan Vrublevskii’s story about a banker paying out a million zloty as

the price of Polish honor, Mitia jeers: “Tax m OTJtacT rede nojibCKHÜ wrpox

MKjrjrMOHJ...fIpocTw, nane, BtnroBeH, bhobb BHHOseH, OTjtacT, oTttacT mmjijimoh,

Ha roHop, H a nojiBcxy necTb! Bn^MmB, xax a roBopto no-nojiBCKW^, xa-xa!”

36That Mitia himself believes that God protects him is evident from his conviction that God prevented him from committing parricide: “Bor, — sax caM M h th roaopHJi noTOM, — cropoxHJi Mena Toraa" (“‘God,’ as Mitia himself said afterwards, ‘watched over me then’” XTV 112). He reiterates his faith in divine providence following the confrontation with the Poles at Mokroe: “Cneaw jim h b m , Man. JIM MOM yMOJiMJia 6ora, jtyx jim cseTjibtji o6jio6u3aji Menn b t o MrHoeeHMe — He 3Hax), h o nepr 6bui noôeatjteH” (“Whether it was someone’s tears, or my mother entreated God, or a bright spirit k i^ d me at that moment —I don’t know, but the devil was defeated”; XIV 425-26).

184 (“As if a Polish gambler would give you a million!...Forgive me, gentlemen, I am

guilty, guilty again, he would give, would give a million for honor—for Polish

honor! You see how well I speak Polish, ha-ha!”; XIV 385). Mitia’s humorous

implication that Poles have no honor, particularly as it relates to gambling, turns out to be prophetic since Pan Mussialovich and Pan Vrublevskii are later discovered to be cardsharps. Finally, Mitia’s demonstration to Grushen’ka that her former lover was willing to take money to abandon her causes Grushen’ka to decisively break with the

Poles, because she at last understands the truth about Pan Mussialovich: “Paase oh

6biJi TaKoü?... Tot 6biJi cokoji , a oto cejieaenb” (“Was he really like that? That one was a falcon, but this one is a drake” XTV: 388).

However, neither the holy fool from Zagoskin’s K)puü MiuiocAaecKuû nor the eldest brother in Bpamta KapoMaaoeu successfully vanquish the Polish threat during their first confrontations with the Poles. Rather, only by a sustained effort to challenge the Polish way of life do they challenge the Polish influence in their native land. In Zagoskin’s novel, Mitia achieves this effect by encouraging the hero, lurii

Miloslavskii. to reconnect with his Russian roots. On lurii’s journey from Polish collaborator to Russian nationalist, Mitia protects him with repeated warnings about unscrupulous Polish sympathizers. Mitia’s counsel as well as the patriotism of other

Russians, including the historical figure Minin, encourage lurii to disassociate himself from the Polish invaders. Since his oath precludes him from fighting against the

Poles, lurii takes Mitia’s advice and seeks refuge in a site emblematic of Russian

185 Orthodoxy’s triumph over the Polish invaders—the Trinity M onastery.H ere, the

historical personage Avraam Palitsyn absolves him of his oath to Wladyslaw thereby

freeing lurii to defend his homeland. Mitia, having thus ensured the defeat of the

Poles in Moscow, takes leave of lurii and departs for his “ponwHa” (homeland), i.e.,

heaven (228).

Mitia Karamazov also must protect himself and his homeland from the Polish

influence threatening to invade Russian culture. This Polish influence, as in

Zagoskin’s novel, is spread by Russians sympathizing with the Poles; these Russians

are found in the judicial system in Dostoevskii’s novel. It is the willingness of the

investigators to believe the testimony of the Poles that results in Mitia’s arrest. As

Dostoevskii’s notes to the novel suggest, the Poles’ testimony concerning Mitia’s

offer of a 3,000 ruble bribe (in exchange for Pan Mussialovich’s leaving Grushen’ka)

is crucial to the investigator’s case against Mitia for parricide since this offer, in the

mind of the investigator, confirms Mitia’s theft of his father’s 3,000 rubles and

therefore implicates him in the murder

CjiettcTBMe. M hth oTKasbiBaeTcn cKaaaxb, oxxytta aeHbm, itojtro. HoB jtp y r roeopnx; «H CKaxcy, oxxyjta ttenbrn». Yttajmex B c e x , to eo p u m . He Bcpsrr. ff,ojtro Mojtnajr (nbijiyMajr). «foBopMJiM Bbi KOMy-Hn6yttb npe^tte oxo?» — «HwKOMy». HoKaaaHMe nojiaxa. lOO cawflexejieM (XV: 289).

The investigation. Mitia for a long time refuses to say from where he got the money. But suddenly he says: “I’ll tell you ffom where I got the money.” He moves away from everyone, he tells them. They do

37The siege of the monastery is mentioned several times in Zagoskin’s narrative as the symbol of Russian resistance to the Polish invaders, because despite their lengthy battle outside the walls of the monastery, the Poles failed to seize it.

186 not believe him. He was silent for a long time (he made it up). “Have you spoken to anyone about this before?”— “Nobody.” Testimony of the Pole. The 100 witnesses.

The Poles’ testimony for the prosecution at trial includes this damaging information:

‘TpOMKO SaCBMMCTeJIbCTBOBaJIH, WTO, BO-nepBHX, 06a «CJiyXCMJIM KOpOHe» H WTO

« n a n M m t w » npejtjiaraji m m T p w t u c m w m , w t o 6 u K y n M T b m x w e c T b , h w t o o h m caMM BMjtejiM OojibuiMe aeHbrM b pyxax ero” (“The Poles loudly testified first that they both served the crown and that Pan ‘Mitia’ offered them three thousand to buy their honor and that they themselves had seen more money in his hands”: XV: 102).

Pan Mussialovich is so encouraged by the court’s favor that he emphasizes his

“other-ness” during his testimony by breaking into Polish: “IlaH MyccJuioBww

BCTaBJIHJI CTpaiUHO MHOrO nOJIbCKMX CJIOB a CBOM ^jpasbl M, BMflH, WTO 3T0

TOJibKo BOSBbimaeT ero b rjiaaax npeaceaaTeaa m npoKypopa Boaabicwji

HaKoueu cBo# ayx oKOHwaTejibHO m ctbji yxce coBceM roBopMTb no-nojibCKM”

(“Pan Mussialovich interjected an awful lot of Polish words into his sentences and, seeing that it only raised him in the esteem of the judge and the prosecutor, finally let his spirit rise completely and began to speak entirely in Polish”; XV: 102). As a result, Mitia’s subsequent judicial defeat appears to uphold the viewpoint of the

Polish sympathizers in the court rather than that of the Russian defendant.

However, Mitia’s spiritual regeneration following his implication in his father’s murder and his acceptance of his fate as God’s will suggest that Russia remains triumphant in Dostoevskii’s final novel because of her Orthodox faith.

187 Earthly justice, already associated with the abusive Catholic Church through Ivan’s

poem about the Grand Inquisitor, is again seen as un-Godly through Mitia’s

wrongful imprisonment. Mitia, having embraced the “pyccKWM 6or” (“Russian

God”), dismisses as Jesuitical Alesha’s own plan for earthly justice which involves

Mitia’s escape from his fate in Siberia (XV: 186). In this respect, Mitia’s journey to

Russian spirituality mirrors that of another Dostoevskian hero in a proposed novel

entitled Ameu3M {Atheism) who re-dedicates himself to the Russian Christ following

confrontations with representatives of various creeds, including Polish Jesuits.^® In

an 1868 letter to A. N. Maikov, Dostoevskii describes this Russian hero’s return to

Russian spirituality following his crisis of faith:

Oh tnHHpnex no hobwm noKoaeHHHM, no axewcTaM, no cjiasHHaM H esponefinaM, no pyccKMM MsysepaM m nycxwHHo*MxejiaM, no cBHmeHHMKaM; cMJtbHo, Mex^y npoHHM, nonaaaexca na KpionoK wesywxy, nponaraxopy, noaaxy; cnycxaexca ox aero b rjiyÔMny xjibicxoamMHbi — n noA Konen oGpexaex m Xpwcxa m pyccxyio acMJiio, pyccKoro Xpwcxan pyccKoro 6ora (XXVmii: 329).

He dashes around the new generation, the atheists, the Slavs and the Europeans, the Russian fanatics and hermits, the priests; he is, by the way, firmly hooked by a Jesuit-propagator, a Pole; from there he descends to the depths of the xjtucmu^^—and in the end finds Christ, the Russian land, the Russian Christ, and the Russian God.

Thus, Mitia does mount a successful challenge to the Poles, whose influence on

Russian institutions threatens to change the Russian culture. By embracing the

38Zakiewicz finds that the plans for AmeusM inform Epambx KapoMojoeu in that they provide motivation for Dostoevskii’s introduction of the Poles into the narrative (8 ^. However, he concludes that these plans will be realized in the proposed sequel to Bpantbx KapoMosaeu.

39rhe xjiucmu were Russian religious schismatics known for their practice of self-flagellation.

188 “pyccKaa scmjui” (“Russian land”) and the “pyccKMft 6or” (“Russian God”) at the end of the novel, Mitia links his future to the fate of Russia, one that Dostoevskii associates with a panslav federation of the future.

In this manner, Dostoevskii uses Mitia’s confrontation with the Poles in order to promote a panslav movement to be led by Russian Orthodox spirituality. Because, as he demonstrates in Epambst KapoMasoeu and ffh ea n u K nucameAsi, the dominant influence of Catholicism in Poland necessarily draws this country into conflict with the Orthodox culture of Russia, Dostoevskii warns against Polish conspiracies seeking to threaten Russia’s immediate stability as well as the future of panslavism.

To substantiate this opinion, Dostoevskii introduces the contentious history between

Russia and Poland into the narrative of Bpambsi KapaMasoeu as evidence of the mutual incompatibility of these two cultures. Because the Time of Troubles features prominently in this history, Dostoevskii maintains a dialogue with two influential nineteenth-century accounts which describe the Russo-Polish conflict of the seventeenth century—Pushkin’s tragedy, Bopuc Fodyme, and Zagoskin’s historical novel, lOpuü MiuocAaecKuü. Adopting Zagoskin’s nationalistic tone, Dostoevskii presents in Bpantbst KapoMaaoebc the nineteenth-century tension between Russia and the Kingdom of Poland against the backdrop of a patriotic reading of Pushkin’s tragedy. As a result, Dostoevskii’s final novel represents his own nationalist narrative depicting his contemporary troubled times.

189 CONCLUSION

Dostoevskii’s dialogue with Time of Troubles narratives demonstrates that he emphasizes “historical consciousness” (“a distinctive mode of thought”) over

“historical knowledge” (“an autonomous domain in the spectrum of the human and physical sciences”: White, Metahistory 1). Dostoevskii embraces the very aspect of

“historical” writing, i.e. the ideological motivations governing the “transformation of chronicle into story” (where chronicle signifies the arrangement of events in chronological order and story connotes “the arrangement of events into the components of a ‘spectacle’ or process of happening, which is thought to possess a discernible beginning, middle, and end”), that encourages postmodernists such as

Michel Foucault to dismiss history as largely fictive (White 5). Indeed, Dostoevskii agrees with the position of such postmodernists that “historical consciousness... may be little more than a theoretical basis for the ideological position from which Western civilization views its relationship not only to cultures and civilizations preceding it but also to those contemporary with it in time and contiguous with it in space” (White 2).

In contrast to the postmodernists who understand these ideological concerns as obstacles to historical investigation, Dostoevskii views these concerns as motivating

190 factors for the study of Russia’s history. His attempts to translate Russia’s past into

meaningful narrative thus represent a search for a “master-narrative,” “grand

narrative.” or “metanarrative” whereby a “philosophy of history is used to legitimate

knowledge” (Lyotard xxiv).*

For Dostoevskii, this “grand narrative” is defined in large part by Russian

national identity. As Anthony Smith explains in National Identity, it is common for

an artist to engage in nationalist discourse by attempting to shape national

consciousness through his/ her artistic media: “It is the intellectuals — poets,

musicians, painters, sculptors, novelists, historians and archaeologists, playwrights,

philologists, anthropologists and folklorists — who have proposed and elaborated the

concepts and language of the nation and nationalism and have through their musings

and research, given voice to wider aspirations that they have conveyed in appropriate

images, myths and symbols” (93). It is this preoccupation with national identity that

encouraged Dostoevskii to cull his nation’s history for periods of national unity which

embody what he defines as the “pyccKMÜ ayx” (“Russian spirit”). After having

defined the Time of Troubles as such a historical period, Dostoevskii turned to the

seventeenth-century in order to understand the historical development of the

“pyccKHH ityx.”

tDostoevskii's legitimation of historical discourse through metanarration is analogous to Jean- François Lyotard’s legitimation of scientific discourse through metanarration: “Philosophy must restore unity to learning, which has been scattered into separate sciences in laboratories and in pre-university education; it can only achieve this in a language game that links the sciences together as moments in the becoming of spirit, in other words, which links them in a rational narration, or rather metanarration’’ (33).

191 In his discussion of historical narratives about the Time of Troubles,

Dostoevskii reveals his belief that historical fiction informs “historical consciousness" better than those works traditionally defined as historical, so he looks to the Russian literary tradition to help define a national consciousness for the contemporary and future generations of Russians by reviving a dialogue with Russia’s past.

Consequently, the historical events of the Time of Troubles are less important to

Dostoevskii than a novelist’s or dramatist’s ability to translate these events into a meaningful narrative that can contribute to Russians’ understanding of their own national identity. Dostoevskii indicates that this concept of nationalism is most fully expressed in Pushkin’s historical fiction, specifically in his historical drama Bopuc rodynoe. In his discussions of the “historical” figme, the chronicler-monk Pimen,

Dostoevskii insists that the fact that Pimen never existed in time does not negate his historical existence, since Pimen remains a historical type insofar as he is the embodiment of Russian culture from a certain era in Russia’s past. It is in this sense that Dostoevskii regards history and fiction as inextricably linked, and so he develops a historical poetics based on his understanding that “paaBUTwe n a a iM X Hjtefi wcTopimecKMx b JiHTepaxype" (“the development of our historical ideas in literature’’) is a profitable form of historical inquiry (XXVniii: 75).

In his pursuit of these historical ideas within the context of the Russian literary tradition, Dostoevskii does not limit himself to analyzing Pushkin’s oeuvre but also explores other Time of Troubles narratives with more nationalistic overtones

192 such as N. A. Chaev’s JJuMumpuü CoMoaeaneu, {Dimitrii the Pretender) and M. N.

Zagoskin’s lOpuu Micioc.iaecKuu lutu PyccKue e 1612 aody (Jurii Miloslavskii or

The Russians in 1612). His dialogue with such historical fiction enables him to

comment on a culturally relevant issue of his day—the Polish Question—within the

context of the historic animosity between Russia and Poland. The polarized

depictions of Russians and Poles in Chaev’s and Zagoskin’s works, shaped in part

by the 1830 and 1863 Polish rebellions against Russian rule, resonated well with

litterateurs of late nineteenth-century Russia, who witnessed first-hand in 1863 the

consequences of the long-standing animosity between Poland and Russia.

Dostoevskii particularly used these narratives to demonstrate that the on-going

attempts by Polish conspirators to undermine the political stability of Aleksandr II’s

Russia has its historical parallels in the Polish-sponsored caMoaeancmeo

(pretendership) of Grigorii Otrep’ev and the Polish invasion of Russia in the

seventeenth century. For instance, in Becu {The Devils), Dostoevskii links these two

troubled periods of Russia’s history through Pushkin’s drama about the seventeenth-

century conflict in order to elucidate the Polish connection to leftist revolutionary

conspiracies in nineteenth-century Russia. This connection becomes even more

pronounced in Bpamtsi KapaMaaoeu {The Brothers Karamazov) in which the

Russian hero’s encounter with two Poles (who share names with two historical political dissidents) is prefaced by a reference to Pushkin’s Bopuc Todynoe in order to place Dostoevskii’s fictional encounter between two Slavic peoples within the

193 historical context of Russo-Polish tensions. The simiTarities between Dostoevskii’s

final novel and Zagoskin’s K)puü MuAoc.iaecKuCi only further clarify how

Dostoevskii’s fictional representation of the conflict between these two Slavic nations

continues in the tradition of nationalistic Time of Troubles narratives.

In the final analysis, this discussion of the Time of Troubles in Dostoevskii’s

oeuvre demonstrates the author’s preference for story over chronicle, or narrative over

knowledge. His admiration of historical fiction suggests that it provides an ideal

balance of emphasis on narrative and consciousness of history. Dostoevskii’s effort

to realize this balance in his own fiction is evident from his attempts to address the

Polish Question in his final novels, Becu and Bpamtsi KapaMaaoeu. Underlying

these works of fiction is Dostoevskii’s promotion of Russocentric panslavism which

is defined, in part, by its opposition to Polish independence movements. Rather than directly address these arguments (as he does in his journalistic writings), Dostoevskii draws on narratives about historic Russo-Polish tensions to create ridiculous Polish types, thus rendering unfathomable demands for Polish autonomy. These stock

Polish types, drawn from the pages of such literary texts as Pushkin’s Bopuc

FodjHoe and Zagoskin’s lOpuû Mu.îocjaecKuü, show Dostoevskii’s novel to be in dialogue with cultural archetypes already well-established in the national consciousness by Russian historical literature. Thus, the study of Dostoevskii’s interaction with Time of Troubles narratives suggests that his own creation of Polish types is inspired not only by his well-documented personal interaction with Polish

194 contemporaries but also by his familiarity with the national type in the Russian literary tradition. In this respect. Dostoevskii allows his “historical consciousness"

(shaped by his knowledge of Russian literature) to be governed by Russocentric panslavism to such an extent that his “historical consciousness” denies other nations their own histories on the basis of their national identity.

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