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Elliot Doley “What is our Russian Empire?”
Andrei Bely begins his 1916 novel Petersburg with a question: “What is our
Russian Empire?” (3). Amidst the political turbulence of early twentieth century
Russia, this question speaks to a struggle to define the identity of the Russian state.
The Bolsheviks and the Soviet Union would provide an answer in the form of an unprecedented socialist experiment. In the aftermath of the failed Soviet undertaking, this question of identity once again looms large in the consciousness of contemporary Russian society. In Bely’s novelistic representation of St. Petersburg, as well as in the city today, tension exists between the former capital’s Western influences and the cultural desire to establish an authentic Russian identity.
Through his narrator in the Prologue, Bely quickly narrows the focus of the novel to the city of “Petersburg, or Saint Petersburg, or Piter” (3). Bely’s choice of setting is deliberate in the context of the identity crisis of the Russian state.
Founded by Tsar Peter the Great as part of his program of Westernization, St.
Petersburg was established as a new Russian capital steeped in Western European culture (Jahn 393). In addition to providing greater logistical access to the West, St.
Petersburg was intended as an “open window” through which foreign ideas could enter and transform Russian society (Jahn 393). Despite Peter the Great’s enthusiasm, this effort to transform Russian society was seen by many as inorganic and forced. The placement of St. Petersburg on flooded swampland symbolized the perception of the city as a contrived and artificial city “wrested from nature” (Jahn
389). The deaths of thousands of peasant workers—all buried beneath the city streets—further contributed to the perception of the city as a grotesque and 2 unnatural aberration (Jahn 395). All of these aspects combined to form St.
Petersburg, a “Western facade” existing in spite of nature itself (Jahn 395). In his
1864 novel Notes from the Underground, Fedor Dostoevskii described the city as
“the most theoretical and intentional town on the whole terrestrial globe” (7). St.
Petersburg was thus an abstract vision of Peter the Great cleaved from reality.
Bely invokes all of these connotations and contrasts them with a countercultural force seeking change, thus creating much of the tension in the novel.
Through the character of Apollon Apollonovich Ableukov, as well as the city of St.
Petersburg—a character in itself—Bely symbolizes an attempt to impose order on chaos. This represents Peter the Great’s endeavor to establish a Westernized identity for Russia. The city’s seething inhabitants embody the forces of upheaval that threaten order. Bely juxtaposes order and chaos to symbolize the battle for
Russia’s soul taking place in St. Petersburg—a struggle between Peter the Great’s dream of Westernization and an authentically Russian identity divorced from the rest of Europe.
To contrast the opposing sides in this thematic struggle, Bely often employs motifs of geometric shape and form. In the novel’s prologue, the narrator centers the focus from Russia to St. Petersburg to Nevskii prospect, which he repeatedly refers to as “rectilinear” (Bely 3-4). He associates this rectilinear shape with the city’s Western inspiration: “The Nevsky prospect is rectilinear (speaking between ourselves) because it is a European prospect;...” (Bely 3-4). Bely emphasizes the city’s linearity to connect it in structure to Peter the Great’s efforts to build the city in a linear, Western layout—a design inspired by Peter’s time in the Western city of 3
Amsterdam. By highlighting St. Petersburg’s geometrically linear structure, Bely alludes to a myth of the city’s founding: “Allegedly, Peter the Great himself took a spade to draw a straight line in the swamp of the Neva delta,...” (Jahn 391). This apocryphal tale, which features Peter the Great imposing linear order on the unruly swamps of the Neva river, mirrors the tension between order and chaos in Bely’s city of Petersburg.
Bely continues to underscore the city’s linear nature throughout the novel’s early chapters. He connects this motif with the character of Apollon Apollonovich as well: “Apollon Apollonovich took a resolve: to impart to the pencil’s point a sharpness of form” (Bely 6). In the scene where Apollon Apollonovich is introduced,
Bely immediately suggests his affinity for the “a sharpness of form” found in the linearity of a pencil. More significantly, by attempting to sharpen the pencil, Apollon
Apollonovich demonstrates his desire to impose and strengthen this form. This parallels the iconic image of Peter the Great forcing linearity on the turbid Russian swamps during the construciton of St. Petersburg. Bely confirms this again in the section titled “Squares, Parallelepids, Cubes” (16). As Apollon Apollonovich traverses the city, the linear geometrical structure of his carriage and the city streets comfort him: “Planned regularity and symmetry calmed the senators nerves...Most of all did he love the rectilinear prospect (Bely 16). Apollon Apollonovich’s affinity for geometric linearity associates him with the “rectilinear” structure of St.
Petersburg itself. Bely connects Apollon Apollonovich with this motif in order to establish the juxtaposition that symbolizes the struggle for St. Petersburg’s identity. 4
The rigid, linear geometry that predominates the structure of St. Petersburg is juxtaposed with the thronging masses that fill the city. While St. Petersburg and
Apollon Apollonovich represent the imposition of order, the “denizens of chaos”—as
Apollon Apollonovich refers to them—starkly contrast with this motif of geometric sharpness (Bely 18). Bely instead associates the Petersburg public with a chaotic fluidity that horrifies and repulses Apollon Apollonovich. The crowds that flow through the streets are described as an “infinite stream” flowing through
Petersburg’s prospects (Bely 14). Bely particularly connects the city’s islands with the unruly chaos of the masses, as well as fluidity: “And over there, over there: the depths, the greenish dregs; from far, far away seemingly further than ought to have been the case, the islands frightenedly sank and cowered;...it seemed that the waters were going to descend,...” (15). Using imagery such as “depths,” and “greenish dregs” to describe the lower-class masses connotes a sense of uncontrollable, mysterious, fluidity that contrasts the “sharpness of form” prized by Apollon
Apollonovich. Bely uses the motif of water and fluidity to underscore the power of the masses, in addition to their chaotic and nebulous nature: “...a human stream; here people grew mute; their streams, accumulating in an undular surf, thundered, growled, but the accustomed ear could in no way detect that that human surf was a thunderous surf” (23). By describing the denizons of St. Petersburg as a
“thunderous surf,” Bely symbolizes the continued persistence of the forces Peter the
Great sought to master in his construction of the city. Despite his attempts to impose Westernization and linearity, the unruly waters of the Neva remain powerful, as evidenced by the many floods suffered by the city (Jahn 391). In 5 addition to nature itself, the inhabitants of Petersburg represent a massive and shapeless force, immune to attempts to impose linearity upon them.
The seething masses of St. Petersburg are the subject of Apollon
Apollonovich’s revulsion, thus further solidifying Bely’s symbolic juxtaposition.
Bely’s description of Apollon Apollonovich’s carriage ride serves as a potent example of this contrast: “Apollon Apollonovich swayed on the satin cushions of the seat; he was separated from the street scum by four perpendicular walls; thus was he detached from the crowds of people flowing past,...” (16). In keeping with previously established motifs, Apollon Apollonovich moves through the city protected by the linear geometry of his “four perpendicular walls”. By contrast, the swelling crowds “flow” past his carriage in aqueous fashion, thus underscoring their fluid and chaotic nature. Apollon Apollonovich’s carriage is notably described as a
“lacquered cube.” Bely deliberately mentions this protective, waterproof coating to further emphasize the contrast between Apollon Apollonovich’s “sharpness” and the fluidity of the public.
Looming large in the background of this symbolic struggle is the notion of a fundamentally “Russian” identity. The novel focuses on the conflict between the rigid, established Apollon Apollonovich, and the anarchic inhabitants of “the islands.” While Bely associates the bastions of linearity—Apollon Apollonovich and
St. Petersburg—with western ideas, values, and culture, he connects the chaotic power of the masses with a more authentic “Russia.” Bely portrays Apollon
Apollonovich as at odds with Russianness: “...but after all, decidedly everyone was astonished at the explosion of intellectual energy shed by this cranium in defiance of 6 all Russia,...” (8). The simultaneous association of Apollon Apollonovich with “the
West,” and dissociation of Apollon Apollonovich with Russia represents a deliberate strategy by Bely to portray a struggle for Russia’s identity. In keeping with the already mentioned juxtaposed motifs, the masses are associated with Russia itself:
“...the rural distances will be muttering, whispering there, in the expanse; there, booming and muttering in the rural distances will be—Russia” (Bely 19). Outside of the confines of Westernized St. Petersburg, the masses of Russia represent an identity separate from the rest of Europe. In his juxtaposition of Apollon
Apollonovich and the masses, Bely alludes to cultural tension between “authentic”
Russia and “Western” influenced Russia. In the keeping with the myths of St.
Petersburg as an artificial, out of place city, Bely suggests through Apollon
Apollonovich that the notion of Westernizing Russia is divorced from reality:
“Swiftly he approached the writing table and snatched up... a paperweight, which for a long time he twiddled in deep reflectiveness, before he realized that it was a paperweight he was holding, not a pencil” (6). As has already been established,
Apollon Apollonovich savors the shape of the pencil because it alludes to the western influenced linearity of the St. Petersburg streets. In reality, there is no pencil, only a paperweight, and the symbolic manifestation of Westernization—
Apollon Apollonovich—is portrayed as delusional.
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Based on my own recent travels in St. Petersburg, I will argue that this struggle between “Western” and “Russian” identities described by Bely continues to play out in the city today. 7
During the Soviet era, Russia had a strong national identity as a world superpower set in opposition to the United States and Western Europe. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, Russia suffered a dramatic loss in geopolitical influence. Today, many Russians want to revive Russia’s great power status by reasserting their identity as separate from the West. Public opinion polls indicate most Russians hold extremely negative views of the United States and other
Western countries.: 81% of Russians have unfavorable views of the United States,
80% view NATO unfavorably, and 60% feel unfavorably towards the European
Union (Simmons). 81% of Russians also believe NATO is a legitimate military threat to the Russian state (Simmons). In addition to confirming anti-Western sentiment, public opinion polls indicate Russian nationalism is strengthening. 69% of Russians mourn the breakup of the Soviet Union, which indicates a widespread Russian nostalgia for days of greater geopolitical influence (Simmons). Nationalism, combined with surging anti-Western sentiment, evidences a popular desire to establish a Russian geopolitical identity separate from the West.
My own anecdotal experiences in the city of St. Petersburg confirm the
existence of these sentiments. 8
Photo Source: Micah Butler, 2015.
These photos from St. Petersburg—all
taken in the summer of 2015 by a fellow member
of my trip—demonstrate an assertion of Russian
identity in contrast with the West. In the top two
photos, the presence of the bear serves as a
symbol of Russian nationalist pride. The photo
on the left places the bear in opposition with an
American eagle to symbolize conflict and contention between the two countries.
The Russian bear is portrayed as dominant, appearing larger and more imposing than the American eagle. The top line reads “Our country—our rules!,” which indicates a rejection of supposed Western influences in the country. In the bottom left photo, a Russian man rejects a white ribbon from Uncle Sam, a traditional symbol for the United States. He instead wears the St. George ribbon, a longstanding symbol of the Russian military. The simultaneous embrace of traditional Russian symbols and rejection of Western influence reflects the politics of many Russians today. 9
While these sentiments are clearly widespread, they by no means reflect the views of all Russians, and I only once experienced outright hostility as an American in St. Petersburg. The vast majority of Russians were entirely indifferent to my status as a Westerner. Despite this fact, the current political situation in St.
Petersburg offers a stark contrast to the city’s Western influences and architecture.
A similar tension is reflected in Petersburg, in which Bely depicts a city pulled in two directions. The authentic, Russian identity alluded to by Bely—as well as the popular nationalist identity present in the city today—exist in spite of the Imperial capital’s Western origins.
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Works Cited Bely, Andrei. Petersburg. New York: Penguin Group, 2011. Print. Butler, Micah. 2015. N.p. Dostoevsky, Fyodor. Notes From the Underground. N.p.: n.p., n.d. Web.