Author Archives: Sophie Friedman '20

A Perplexing Pecking Order

Going into this story, I assumed that it would reflect the traditional power structure of the era, establishing men as superior to women, and the old as superior to the young. This story challenged the historic hierarchical systems, portraying them as complicated and nontransparent. I found it effective to look at these structures through the practice of gift giving. The story began with Frol somewhat respectfully giving gifts to win the love of Annushka. He courted her, and initiated any minimal contact the two had. Frol’s sister “did not dare disobey her brother”(476) and had no option but to assist in his schemes. He then, “became daring and forced her to submit to his will”. At this point in the story it was clear that he held the power in their relationship; he courted her and forced her to “submit to his will”. He held power over the women he interacted with. Then, according to this account, Annushka fell for Frol, and she began to give gifts to him: “Annushka became very happy, and told her nurse to take him twenty rubles” (479). By giving Frol a gift, she secured her role as an equal partner in a consensual relationship, where she had the capability to contribute. As it became clear that Frol was a “poor nobleman and a great cheat”(479) while Annushka came from a fairly well-established family, their relationship challenged my assumption that men held significantly more power than women did during this era. Granted, he certainly had the upper hand, but she experienced notable agency for this era.
When the Frol and Annushka eloped, they challenged the notion that older generations held unequivocal power over the generations that followed. The two managed to marry without the approval of Annushka’s family. Then, her parents sent them the valuable and precious “ icon with our blessings” (484), all of a sudden pandering to their daughter, with the hopes of winning her back. The story ended with Stolnik Nadrin-Naschekin saying “No rogue, don’t sell them. I shall give you some money. Take it” (486). This establishes a more traditional power structure: he grants his daughter and her husband his approval, and supports them financial, compromising their previous position of pure independence, but he still had no control in their decision about marriage. Throughout the story, the traditional power structures reverse and then return to their conventional state, offering a unique glimpse of the intricacies of the Russian hierarchical systems to the modern reader.   

Boris Godunov through Domostroi

In the first scene, the commoners beg Boris Godunov to assume the role of Tsar. They say to him, “Why are you abandoning us? We are your helpless orphans”. Their rhetoric positions the Godunov as a father, and themselves as his children. This initial familial imagery reminded me of the Domostroi’s rules for familial behavior, and I referenced the Domostroi to see is this family lived by its regulations. I examined the costumes through this lens, and noticed their coloring first. The wealthy wore bright reds and oranges and were lavishly decorated, while the poor wore beige, ragged, dirty clothing. According to the Domostroi, “golden velvet” is a mark of celebration and wealth, as it should be a part of wedding rituals. These costumes correspond to the codes of the Domostroi. The evil wore dark, ominous looking clothing for a theatrical effect. The police were dressed in awfully festive, elf-like costumes that aren’t explained in the Domostroi. As per the instructions of the Domostroi, the peasant women covered their hair, while wealthy Marina, a romantic object, wore her hair exposed, intensifying her sexualisation. Feodor’s son wore white, as a mark of purity and innocence. I also saw a similarity between the religious rhetoric in the Domostroi and the opera. Feodor’s last words of wisdom to his son included, “honor god’s saints” and the “heavenly powers, guardians of the eternal throne” in addition to advice about the political side of being a Tsar. The role of a the tsar is defined by the nature of a divine right political position. As the Domostroi expressed it, “If you serve the earthly kind righteously and fear him, you will learn to fear the Heavenly Kind also”. This tenet permeates the opera; the commoners treat the Tsar as a religious deity and the Tsar sees his own political rule as one that is deeply intertwined with religiosity. Both the religious guidelines and the regulations on dress in the Domostroi play active roles in this opera.

I am not the first, nor the last, warrior.

“I am not the first, nor the last, warrior” is a deceivingly simple sentence. It stands out in a sea of complicated imagery pertaining to animals and aching descriptions of the Battle of Kulikovo. The first time I read it, I understood its sentiment to express “I am neither the first warrior, nor the last warrior”. This humble sentence echoed Theodosius’s “meek” and pious words and choices in life. It speaks to the warriors of the masses, to those who stand on both sides of the battlefield’s lines. It didn’t feel particularly unique in its message: “I am one of many who have come before me, and many who shall follow, here and around the world”. The next time I read it, I interpreted it completely differently. I read it as “I am not the first or last, warrior”, as if it were addressing an individual warrior. This interpretation establishes this poem as an open letter, with a specific audience–those warriors who leave their sobbing mothers and familiar homes, with the risk of never being able to return to them. The thing that both interpretations have in common is that they don’t specify the roots of the warriors. Rather than politicizing this battle and demonizing the “other side”, he writes about all warriors and the loss that they each are experiencing. Blok furthers this notion when he writes, “Rival swords clash in the wake of the wind” at the end of section IV. Instead of humanizing the people holding the swords, or establishing them as rival warriors, he describes them as “rival swords”, detaching the individuals from the violence they are engaged with. This separation contributes to the notion of this poem acting as an open letter to all warriors, rather than to a specific set of them. The multiple interpretations of the line “I am not the first, nor the last, warrior” sets the tone for the poem’s reflection on war and loss, directed towards the warriors, rather than establishing a battle cry or a call for vengeance.