Zhizdra Region

Most of the Russian literature we have read has been dominated by glorious czars, valiant warriors, and pious monks. “Khor and Kalinych”, “Three Deaths”, and “How One Russian Peasant Fed Two Generals” vividly depict the quotidian lives of Russia’s more common figures and all of the shades that they occupy. In the majority of the representations of serfs that we have viewed we have seen them through a monochromatic lens: stupid comedic reliefs like in The Snow Maiden. In my opinion, of the three stories “Khor and Kalinych” best illustrates the idiosyncratic nature of the peasantry. 

Readers need not lay eyes on the Zhizdra region to grasp the distinction between the Orlov and Kaluga people. Turgenev’s depictions of Orlov and Kaluga provinces and peoples perfectly set up the story as one that adds depth to our literary understanding of Russian serfs. He displays the hierarchical and cultural differences between the two peoples: “The Orlov peasant is a man of little stature… taking part in no trade, eating poorly and wearing bast shoes whereas the Kaluga peasant, who pays quit-rent… has a tall build… trades in grease and tar and wears boots on feast days” (Turgenev 19).  ‘Little’ and ‘tall’, ‘taking part in no trade’ and ‘trades in grease and tar’, and ‘bast shoes’ and ‘boots’ display the binaries that can exist between peasants that live in the same region. The juxtaposition of these descriptions works to enhance the differences between peasants and calls the reader to imagine what other ways that serfs may differ. 

Despite Turgenev’s progressive depiction of serfs, it is important to note that his attention to detail was reserved only for males. Sexist language is used throughout the text. Women are called ‘stupid’ and referred to as workers ‘about the house’ (26). Also, not a single female character is named. After being amazed by Turgenev’s forward-looking illustrations of peasants, I was thoroughly disappointed that he chose not to portray female peasants in the same technicolor light he gave the men. 

Death is central in Leo Tolstoy’s story “Three Deaths.” To start the text, we are introduced to Vasili’s wife, who is referred to as an invalid who wants to travel abroad for her health. Vasili’s wife shows defiance and stubbornness in light of her pain and inevitable death, which is why she insists on traveling despite her condition.  Her obvious pain is overlooked by those around her, including her husband and doctor when they leave her unattended. Included in this is an air of observance, which is exemplified by Aksuisha and Masha,  who walk by her carriage only to see how Vasili’s wife is close to death. In this instance, the acknowledgement of death by characters who are not experiencing it view it with fascination or disregard. Later on in the text, we meet Seryoha, a driver. He visits the driver’s room to see Khveodor, whom he refers to as Uncle Khveodor. As Eva pointed out in her analysis, other drivers and the station owners viewed Khveodor’s poor condition of bad coughing and intense weakness as an opportunity to take advantage of him–as Seryoha did by asking for new boots to replace his worn out ones– or tolerate his condition altogether.

In regard to unfulfilled wishes, Vasili’s wife never makes it to Italy but dies at her home, while Khveodor’s wish of a gravestone is not honored by Seryoha at the ending of the story. This point contradicts the story’s direct acknowledgement of death by providing an equally direct silence by leaving the deceased unanswered in their requests.

One final point about death in this story:

Tolstoy wants to point out the universality of death by depicting the death of an upperclass woman and that of lower-class driver. In this way, he shows how the treatment of all people in ill health or after their death only differ in their execution.

This is one last point I wanted to make about the title being “Three Deaths,” with the title referring to two people dying and the death of a tree. In a way, Tolstoy may refer to the last death as that of the loss of morals or of humanity in the symbol of a fallen tree– although this may only refer to Seryoha (as he was reluctant to fulfill Khveodor’s last wish in a timely manner of a gravestone). What do you guys think?

The story “Khor and Kalinyich” presents a positive narrative on Russian peasants. While peasants in Russian society were treated in a demeaning manner that solidified their lower status, this text humanized them and emphasized their social importance. By interacting with the peasants, the narrator is able to convey how the peasant’s labor is vital to society through agricultural work and assisting their masters. While the narrator is generally appreciative of the peasants, I read the text as somewhat glorifying peasant labor and overlooking their hardships. Khor is described as “always busying himself with something” implying he voluntarily chooses to engage in a constant state of labor, overlooking the impact of the master-peasant power dynamic (33). The narrator also exercises subtle judgements on the peasants. Khor tells the narrator that most of his family cannot read or write (32). While the narrator acknowledges that Khor himself is intelligent, he also calls out his hatred for and prejudices against women, implying that peasants have both high mental capacity but also are in some ways more socially and morally backward than higher classes. The narrator also questions Khor’s decision to stay with his master rather than buying his own freedom (25). This judgement is ignorant of the social and economic limitations of peasants’ status and minimizes the peasants’ dependence on their masters. Overall, the text allows a humanistic lens of the peasants’ lives, regarding them as individuals rather than generalizing and degrading the entire social class. Yet the seemingly open and objective narrator exercises judgements that serve to ignore the daily hardships faced by the peasants and the overtly unequal power dynamic between the peasants and their masters.

This story, among the others that we were assigned, displayed the importance of the role of the peasant in Russia as well as exposing the reality of the upper class. The two Russian Generals did not know what to do or even say when they found themselves stranded on an island. The generals were going to starve if they did not find the peasant. The peasant performed many impressive deeds that made him seem heroic, such as making a snare out of his own hair, making a rope out of wild hemp, or building a boat that survived through “storms and various winds.” The relationship between the peasant and generals can be translated to the lower and upper class of Russia. The upper class relies on the lower class for simple chores that are necessary for the country to survive.

The story made me think of Repin’s “The Barge Haulers on the Volga.” A similar message is sent in the painting as the peasants are literally pulling the ship to shore. The peasant are doing the dreadful chore of pulling the ship that has to done. In this painting the ship signifying the upper class among of things. I am not sure if this is the correct analysis of the painting but “The Story of How One Russian Peasant Fed Two Generals” prompted me to this analysis.

The power dynamics among the characters in each story are striking. Even in modern times, those perceived as powerful are those with money, social capital, and other markers of wealth. Those with money, social capital, and other forms of societal power the top dogs in any society, whatever society it may be. However, in these stories, especially in “The Story of How One Russian Peasant Fed Two Generals,” the power dynamics are challenged. In this story, the wealthy and powerful depend on the peasants in a multitude of ways. A quiet power that the peasants hold becomes obvious as both the powerful and the powerless are described in these two stories accurately.
In “The Story of How One Russian Peasant Fed Two Generals,” this power the peasant holds becomes apparent as the generals meet him on the island. Although the generals have fancy garbs and reminisce of their elaborate meals back home, they can’t do anything themselves. Early in the story, this becomes obvious when the two of them can’t find the cardinal directions, which one would assume generals could do. They are unable to feed themselves, and rather than learning how too, they feel it would be easier to find a peasant on a sparsely populated island to do this for them. This desire to be waited on struck me, as it already shows how the wealthy upper-class needs their poor peasants for survival. As the story progresses, the generals refer to their peasant as “lazybones,” when it is quite the opposite. However, the generals expect that the peasant would help them, and to not do so is lazy.

The inability of the generals to do anything that would be beneficial to their survival shows a lack of power. They are not in control of their survival, but the so-called “lazybones” peasant is. The peasant has a sort of power over these generals, although no party would say that out loud. The exacerbation of the generals’ ineptitude may be part of the story, but the general ideology behind it is real. Without the poor, the rich have no way to continue on living.

Throughout the three stories assigned, the effort to challenge the perception of the peasant and noble classes is apparent–just as the itinerants were doing through their various works of art.  Which struck me in the literature, however, was not only only painting the peasantry in a more positive, humane, valued, light, but the obvious goal to expose the hypocrisy and foolishness of the nobles.  

Throughout the texts, the peasants, not the nobles are presented as the heros and wise ones of the story.   In “Khor and Kalinych”, both peasants educate and enlighten the narrator. The dynamic between the narrator, Khor, and Kalinych reveal the value that peasants bring to society.  But beyond that, Khor and Kalinych’s “master”, Polutykin heavily depends on their presence to survive–which flips the popularly held belief that peasants are dependent on their master.  

This ‘role-reversal’ is taken even farther in “The Story of How One Russian Peasant Fed Two Generals”.   Even the title begins to challenge the statically held power-dynamic between master and peasant, suggesting the general class is, in fact, dependent on the peasants.  Furthermore, the text illustrates the generals as foolish, uneducated, and unable to support themselves. It is only after the peasant enters the story that the two nobles are able to survive–highlighting not only the practical skills and abilities peasants often go uncredited for but also revealing how nobles depend on peasants to stay alive.  Perhaps the most pointed critique of the noble class comes when the generals refer to the peasant as “lazybones” prompting the reader to realize that those in the noble class are the true “lazybones”.  

Finally, in “Three Deaths” I found it fascinating how the tree’s death is included in the title and is the most beautifully described of the three.  This further highlights how the superfluous nature of the noble class goes unrewarded in the long run, and that the simple nature of the tree is to be most valued.

When I read “The Story of How One Russian Peasant Fed Two Generals,” the only thing I could think of is Bong Joon-ho’s triumphant tragicomedy “Parasite.” Although these two pieces are infinitely separated in origin they both employ fairy-tale element and satire to make a commentary on the parasitic nature of the upper class. While “Parasite” begs the question of which class (wealthy or poor) is the most parasitic in its narrative, the Russian short story makes it distinctly obvious that the rich generals are the parasitic creatures. The peasant’s pseudonym of “lazybones” is extremely ironic as the generals are the people who are lazy and unable to be self sufficient while the peasant is their ultimate savior. I also found the focus on food as another striking similarity between these two works. The poor family in “Parasite” is only seen to buy food and liquor with their newfound wealth, while the short story spends most of its run time focusing on the pursuit of food and the generals’ hunger. I wonder why is food is a central focus in the parasitic creatures in these works. The scene where the generals almost resort to cannibalism is the most striking out of all the hunger scenes. Food is possibly used as a symbol of unrelenting hunger (or want) of parasitic creatures. Almost an idea that they need to be constantly satisfied and won’t conform to any other way. Overall, I think these two works both show the issues with the socio-economic systems in both scenarios, but also shows how higher class needs there to be a lower class to survive.

In Tolstoy’s “Three Deaths,” the parallels used between nature and human life illuminate some details in the story. Reading through the story, it is first a bit unclear as to what the three deaths are, as only two humans die in the story. But, the personification used in the fourth chapter of the story to describe the cutting down of the tree makes it clear that this tree is the third death. As Seryoha cuts down the tree, it “trembled with all its body, leaned over, and quickly straightened itself, shuddering with fear on its base” (Tolstoy 247). The word “trembled,” “leaned,” “straightened,” and “shuddering” are all active verbs typically used to describe human behavior. So, their use reckons the reader back to the human deaths in the story. The other trees in the forest are also personified in their reaction to this “death”; Tolstoy described that they “more joyously than ever, extended their motionless branches over the new space that had been made in their midst” (Tolstoy 247). In chopping down this tree, Seryoha makes a cross for Khveodor’s grave; this “joy” of the fellow trees mirrors the reaction of Khveodor’s acquaintances to his impending death. Seryoha benefits off of the fact that Khveodor does not need his new boots anymore because he is dying and Nastasya benefits from the fact that Khveodor is no longer taking up space in the oven. I was disturbed by the eagerness which people took advantage of Khveodor’s dying condition when I read this story; perhaps by comparing his death with that of the tree, Tolstoy emphasizes the natural necessity of death? I do not quite know what to make of this parallel.

I found Makovsky’s Tamara and the Demon to be a fascinating piece of art that echoed the Academy’s heavy emphasis on religious iconography and used color to send a powerful message of virtue over evil. At first glance, when looking at the painting, the eyes are drawn to the faces of Tamara and the Demon because the painting as a whole is rather dark, and their pale faces catch the viewer’s attention as a contrast to the darkness. This darkness is meant to feel enveloping to mirror the Demon’s power and capability of destruction in Lermontov’s poem Demon.  The darkness is given a heavy presence in the way it surrounds Tamara completely. Her figure is shown as pure and holy with her white dress, meant to pay homage to the character’s empathy in Lermontov’s poem, who sees a soul in pain rather than a tyrannous demon. This purity acts as a rebellion against evil, which ties to the poem, where Tamara is so virtuous that she takes pity on a demon, wishing to soothe its pain. This is also expressed in the painting, as the white symbolizing purity shines in the darkness.

Also catching my eye is a chalice filled with burning candles above Tamara, which illuminates a slate that I believe portrays Mary holding a baby Jesus, drawing the eye to her in the sea of darkness. This addition adds to Tamara’s image as a holy woman, but also connects the demon’s embrace of Tamara to common religious iconography. With the demon holding a limp and sullen Tamara, the execution of the painting is heavily reminiscent of a Pietà, where Mary holds the body of Jesus. Having been trained in the Academy, I’m sure Makovsky would have been aware of a Pietà, and with the image of Mother Mary in the background, I’m confident that the imagery of Tamara in the demon’s arms is meant to mimic the artistic staple that is the Pietà.

I’m not usually very astute when it comes to deep artistic analysis, but I am quite confident in my assertions regarding Makovsky’s Tamara and the Demon. The parallels to Lermontov’s poem and Makovsky’s training in the Academy are on full display in this work, and the use of dark space to highlight lighter areas send a powerful message of virtue shining in darkness.

In examining the works of Perov, two features of style in particular become apparent as means of expressing hardship and solace in tangible terms. First of all, Perov often incorporates background hues into foreground elements beyond the influence of lighting alone, creating a translucent effect. The man in The Troika (1866) is a prime example; the effect is made more powerful by the gray streaks extending over the man’s legs. Similarly, the bound and groveling men in Pugachev’s Judgement (1879) exhibit this feature in how their attire blends with the ground. Superficially, both instances of the technique serve to emphasize the eponymous subjects of the works. I would go further to claim that they add an element of otherworldly torment to the works. While the Russian and English traditions surrounding ghosts surely diverge, the idea that translucent humans (and other organic forms) are uncanny or distort our understanding of the passage of time within a work seems a cultural invariant.

Perov inverts his technique to the opposite effect in The First Christians of Kiev (1880). Rather than rendering objects incorporeal, Perov includes hints of the hue and texture of the icon cover in the night sky to create the impression of cover for the worshippers. This gives a sense of supernatural protection from the elements. This contrast also features in the chronology within his paintings’ narratives. While the aforementioned works show a man receding as if having passed the children and people groveling as though condemned, The First Christians of Kiev suggests that the prayer began prior to the comforting atmosphere.

The other defining feature is the use of composition in conveying hostility and clemency. Both The Troika and Going to Burial (1865) achieve the former effect through inclined landscapes made more grueling by diagonal, cumbersome drawn sleds linking the subjects to their surroundings. In addition, the child subjects huddle amongst themselves (or a coffin) against an uncaring background. Again, The First Christians of Kiev contrasts with his grimmer works in the use of the blanketing sky and layers of huddled adults to create a sense of safety. While the background terrain features steps, they are directed so as to suggest that the worshippers descended them to their point of congregation.

Although Perov rejects the romanticization of peasant labor, his portrayal of early Christian worship is idyllic. As with his emphasis on hardship and solace, this thematic contradiction seems to resolve itself as a reflection of Perov’s goal to reflect (what he would consider to be) true ideals and dreaded realities.