Category Archives: Unit 10: Building the USSR

Glorious Grief

Works of Soviet expression both at the time of the 1917 Revolutions and beyond reveal the juxtaposition of two sentiments swirling around the actual uprising: glory and grief.

The speaker in Vladimir Mayakovsky’s 1917 poem, “Our March” conveys a sense of acceleration of the Russian spirit. “Too slow, the wagon of years, / The oxen of days — too glum / Our god is the god of speed / Our heart — our battle drum,” the speaker says. As this drum and rhythm pulled the rebellion on with strong force, power systems began to break down easily and quickly. As Thompson notes in the textbook, the tsarist regime fell quite suddenly due to a loss of ingrained obedience and gratitude within the people. Between the February and October revolutions, sense of urgency accelerated more under the Bolshevik slogan “Peace, Land, and Bread.”

This acceleration contrasted with the disheartening stagnation that Mayakovsky writes of, and that was expressed in the movie, Forward March, Time!. The speaker declares that there was “never a land of greater grief” than Russia. Yet, glory appeared on the horizon. The speaker of “Our March” exclaims, “Rainbow, give colour and girth / To the fleet-foot steeds of time.” This defiant idea that time could stomp out grief is further expressed in the refrain in Forward March, Time! with the words, “Move on, my land… Many things worn out be erased!” The “geniuses gone” and other oppressive forces will give way to the unleashed expression of grief from the common people, and it will be glorious. “Nameless heroic crowds” emerge around the grieved and impoverished populace.

Although this rainbow may have ultimately proved an illusion, glory and pride remain even after grief returns. The heartbeat still marches on passionately, even if it goes nowhere good. Mayakovsky perhaps expresses the enduring defiant sense of glory best in “My Soviet Passport,” when the speaker finishes the poem saying, “I pull it / from the pants / where my documents are: / read it — / envy me — / I’m a citizen / of the USSR!

A Passport to Propaganda in Poetry

By the 1930s, the new Soviet Union was already unrecognizable from the fledgling society that rose up after the Russian Revolution of 1917. With Lenin’s death, pure Marxist ideology fell by the wayside as Stalin steadfastly increased the state’s power and moved toward pure authoritarianism. This trend gradually spread to cover all segments of society, including art. Although they were often tolerated in the years immediately after the Revolution, any artistic ideas that could be interpreted in a subversive way were quickly and efficiently stamped out. The fin de siècle and symbolist ideas present in the artistic landscape of pre-revolutionary Russia were replaced by a state sponsored style and theme: Socialist Realism.

In its essence, Socialist Realism painted the state in the best light possible, creating a cultural representation of a perfect Soviet Society. This is exemplified perhaps nowhere better than in Vladimir Mayakovsky’s poem “My Soviet Passport”. The poem is the ultimate distillation of Soviet Realism: it paints the Soviet state and nation as supremely righteous and enviable, while managing to diminish countless other nations at the same time. Mayakovsky begins the poem with “I’d rip out / bureaucracy’s guts / I would .” This is the epitome of pure, socialist rage against capitalism and the bourgeois, although it is ultimately ironic and misplaces. The Soviet government itself would go on to be highly bureaucratic. The Soviet citizen the poem is written from the perspective of notices special treatment being paid to travelers from Great Britain and the United States. The narrator depicts the customs agent as bending over backwards to please and pay respect to the citizens of these great, capitalist societies. It is an extremely unflattering portrait of deference being shown to undeserving old British “uncles” and “lanky Yankees”.

The passport collector’s reaction to the sudden appearance of a Soviet passport under their nose is very different from their reaction to that of any other nation. It is one of shock, awe, and disconcerted reverence. The officer handles it like a “bomb” and a “snake”. These are not pleasant descriptions, but are definitely empowering ones to a Soviet citizen who wishes for reverence and respect from the global community. As a new nation with an untested form of government, the USSR desperately wanted acknowledgement and respect from other nations,  and probably desired the inspiration of a small amount of fear. In a small way, this parallels the version of America that many of our President Elect’s supporters hope will solidify in the coming years. Through his realist poetry, Mayakovsky paints a strong young Soviet Union, one that already has a vaunted position on the world stage. This was obviously intended to place some artificially constructed pride of country in a reader’s heart, as well as providing validation of a powerful and fear-inspiring society.

By the end of his study of “The most valuable of certificates” (the Soviet passport), Mayakovsky makes no pretense about the poem’s true intention. With a burst of nationalistic sentiment that would surely have pleased the state censors to no end, Mayakovsky brings the poem to a close. “Envy me / I’m a citizen / of the USSR!” he writes. In a front to back reading, the poem’s true intention may be clearer, yet its goals are never subtle when read in any manner. Whether it be through fear or genuine ideological fervor, Mayakovsky does an excellent job of promoting the new government’s most central ideals.

Strange new world

Cement presents an ambiguous, nuanced picture of life after the Revolution. One example is the change in the relationship between Gleb and Dasha. She has changed in the time he was at war, become a person who considered herself equal to all other people as a result of the communist ideology:

“It was not by fighting in the war, not by carrying a food-sack on her back and not by doing a woman’s daily chores that she had learned this. No—her spirit had been awakened and forged by the collective spirit of the workers…”

Although she says that she changed because of hardship, and witnessing her own strength in forging through it. Either way, her respect for herself demands an answering shift in his view of her, completely changing the dynamic of their relationship.

“It was not simply his wife standing before him now, but a human being who was equal to him in strength…”

This implies, of course, that before he (and other men) didn’t consider their wives exactly human, with the same rights as men. For Gleb, the change is unwelcome, although to us it looks like a sign of feminist progress. Either way, it’s clear that society was changing in ways that not all of the revolutionaries expected or sought—some positive and some devastating.

Gilded Symbolism

I was fascinated with Alexander Blok’s A Puppet Show. Blok employs a great deal of keenly timed symbolism that adds immense comedy and social critique.

Color plays a large role in Puppet Show to convey differing contexts in ridiculous situations throughout. For example, the audience witnesses two couples demonstrate the wide spectrum of romantic interaction. The pallid couple — “Our sleepy story is so quiet. You closed your eyes without sin” — juxtaposed with the “whirlwind of cloaks” black and red couple that busts onto the scene saying, “Watch out, temptress! I’ll remove my mask! And you’ll find out that I am faceless. You swept away my features, and led me to darkness, where my black double nods to me, nods to me,” (28-29).

Better yet than this comical comparison is the third couple, the female half of which merely repeats the final word said by her male companion. This interaction killed me. “O, how captivating your words are! Sayer of my soul! How much your words say to my heart!” (30).

The third person symbolic discussion of death and the end of the world continued into the poem A Voice From the Chorus: “You will be waiting, child, for spring – and spring will fool you. You will call for the suns rising – and the sun will lie low. And your shout, when you start shouting, silence will swallow,” (68). The seasonal symbolism is haunting, personifying spring and nature as heartlessly ignoring a child’s cries for help.

Maybe I am overtired, but this play confused me. I enjoyed it thoroughly, but a good bit went over my head. Blok: 1. Price: 0.