In “Diary of the Madman,” Gogol continues to critique the artificiality of Saint Petersburg society by drawing the narrative into the obscure. Although the ending is where the Mad Man narrator really spirals into insanity, the interactions between the narrator and the dog are particularly meaningful. We know from our historical readings that Saint Petersburg society at the time was based on a titular system, where each citizen had a set place within the social order. Gogol is comparing this system to the relationship of the director’s daughter and her dog to show through this parallel the damaging impact Saint Petersburg’s social structure can have on an individual.

The “superfluous man” narrator seems to have little impact on the society around him and in his workplace. In almost every way he is unnoticed. Similar to how an owner looks at a dog, he is not treated or addressed as an equal. This leads our Mad Man to elaborate on his feelings about dogs, “I’ve long suspected that dogs are far more intelligent than people; I was even convinced that they are able to speak but are only prevented from doing so by their great stubbornness” (164). The Mad Man is projecting his position within society onto the director’s daughter’s’ dog. Just as he writes, so does the dog! Although our Mad Man, as a person, has opinions and a voice to express them, within this absurd Saint Petersburg society he might as well be a not listened to animal.

In Peter Chaadaev’s Apology of a Madman, he asks the reader, “Where are our sages, where are our thinkers? Which one of us ever thought, which one of us is thinking today?” (Chaadaev 305). From the readings and artwork that I have been exposed to this semester, it seems clear to me that this question is ridiculous; at that point in history, there had been many great “sages” and “thinkers” in Russia. Alexander Pushkin’s “To Chaadaev” is so interesting because he is one of Russia’s most notable luminaries from that time that Chaadaev chooses to dismiss. Unlike Chaadaev, Pushkin does not believe that Russia is without inspired individuals; yet, he chooses not to completely dismiss Chaadaev in his response. Pushkin addresses him, saying, “Believe, my friend: Russia will rise…On tyranny’s stark wreck the nation/Will write for evermore our name!” (Pushkin 36). Even though Chaadaev essentially directly insulted Pushkin, Pushkin wants to cultivate the shared Russian identity and so calls him a “friend”. Pushkin, however, molds Chaadaev’s criticism of Russian thought, or the lack thereof, to fit an argument that he has made in other pieces of his writing we have read; it is not the fault of the individual but of the autocracy if the Russian culture has not made a significant impact world-wide. According to Pushkin, “Russia will rise” once “tyranny” is brought to “stark wreck”; i.e., once authoritarian government is brought down, Russia’s full glory will be realized. Perhaps that is why Chaadaev’s piece is entitled “Apology of a Madman”; he places the blame of Russia’s lack of prominence in the world’s cultural cannon on lack of individual genius instead of on real societal hindrances.

In Gogol’s short story “Diary of a Madman,” one of the most prominent themes is that of isolation and social alienation which contributes to Poprishchin’s descent into madness. From an early introduction to Poprishchin we can sense he is self conscious to a degree that drives him to hide from society; he comments on his dirty and out of fashion coat and attempts to hide in public in the folds of this coat (159). He evidently struggles with social interactions and love, as he overthinks and acts awkwardly in a simple interaction of picking up Sophie’s handkerchief. Throughout the story, Poprishchin scarcely speaks and interacts  with other people and isolates himself in his own increasingly paranoid and crazed internal monologue. Much of this avoidance of interaction is driven by his evident disdain for other people; Poprishchin judges and dislikes other people, such as the footman, upon minimal interaction (162). As Poprishchin’s madness increases, his disdain for others, anger at society, and drive toward self alienation heightens. Not only does he avoid interaction but he further alienates himself through confrontational and aggressive encounters with the section head and disappointing encounters with Sophie, who dislikes him and rebuffs his romantic advances. These failed social interactions cause Poprishchin to receive criticism and judgement, both of which greatly hurt his self image and cause him to hate those who criticize him. His relations with others get so strained to the point that the section head pretends not to see Poprishchin, exacerbating his social distance from his peers (163). The self perpetuated cycle of Poprishchin’s hatred for society and his subsequent alienation highlight his destructive perspective of the world and other people that is a cause for his madness. 

Ultimately, the theme of social alienation is mirrored by Poprishchin’s physical isolation and reality of being committed in an insane asylum. The physical torment and isolation that Poprishchin experiences in the asylum is a disturbing representation of the emotional alienation that Poprishchin experiences. Throughout his descent into madness, it is made evident that Poprishchin is stuck inside his own head, unable to fully interact with others, and his own internal mental torment causes him to lash out on others further perpetuating this societal distance and his own emotional discontent. While there is some degree of pity one may feel for Poprishchin’s loneliness and abusive treatment, his hatred and contempt for the world around him ultimately makes his character deeply flawed.

As I perused the selection of 19th century works, I saw a dreamlike quality in Briullov’s portfolio. This emerges through a number of methods. For starters, his key works lack absolute internal consistency. Portrait of Maria Bek and Her Daughter is a prime example. The lighting mechanics seem to vary with the object struck; it seems as though the statue, human subjects, column, and sofa are subject to different light sources (with zero cross-illumination). The perspective of the room has a similar effect. I should also point to The Siege of Pskov by Polish King Stefan Batory with the skew red cross and fortress. Furthermore, the use of rectilinear forms for the axe-wielding soldiers and curvilinear forms for the people in the bottom left represents another contrast. Adding to the effect is the medley of Ancient Greek, Orthodox, and contemporary images in any given work. The deformation of space and time shows a mastery of all of the constituent elements of style.

In terms of significance, I am reminded of Gogol’s “The Nose” and Pushkin’s mythical works. Both the St. Petersburg myth and Briullov blend the contemporary Russian state with a litany of mythologies, and both conceive of worlds and narratives that grapple with the disparate pieces of 19th century Russia. Indeed, Briullov’s works show no lack of structure or narrative logic. The Siege of Pskov by Polish King Stefan Batory captures several layers of drama: the illuminated parishioners, the obscured casualties, the slashing axemen and distraught women on the fringes of the light. A balanced composition emphasizes this contrast. In effect, the piece exhibits a conflict between the divine sanction for the military campaign and the brutality of war. Looking at the historical context, Russia did grapple with both sentiments at the time due to its imperialist ventures and the legacy of the Napoleonic Wars. Hence, Briullov brings the subconscious conflict out into the open and directs its ascension to mythic heights.

Based upon the background information, the work of Alexander Ivanov was particularly fascinating to me. The background information states that his “religious paintings gave impetus to the Slavophiles’ interest in Byzantine and Medieval Russian art.” I can indeed see the echos of the Byzantine style in Ivanov’s art.

Based upon my understanding of Byzantine artistic within and outside of this course, it is clear to me the a variety of icons we have been exposed to in fact epitomize it. Their focus on bright, traditionally heavenly colors is striking. Upon revisiting the Russian Icons of the third session of this class, I was awed by the how consistent and distinctive the red and gold chromatic schemes truly were. It became clear to me that these colors were repeated, over and over again, icon after icon.

These same color schemes are visible in Ivanov’s work. I noticed this to be particularaly appearent in Head of John the Baptist and Christ’s Apearence to Mary Magdeline. The surface upon which John’s head sits and the robes of Mary are both painted in an almost neon shade of orange-red, distinctive in the Byzantine icons. The incorporation of such a bold color is a bold move in a visual sense. Indeed, none of the other painters seemed to incorporate such colors into thier work with such consistancy, demonstarting a stylistic echo of Byzantine art unique to Ivanov’s work.

And despite their beauty, the background information of the third sessions states that they weren’t actually created to be physically beautiful, but rather to be spiritually moving. In a sense, they’re existence seemed to be religiously utilitarian. Its interesting then to me that Ivanov takes such an interest in the Byzantine style in his work. Of course, his religious paintings which incorporate the style may very well be made to invoke spiritual effects. But the the style is also clearly being repurposed for asthetic purposes. This is supported by the fact that it is appearent in the Ivanov’s non-religious paintings, such as Priam Asking Hector to Return Achilles’ Body.

The influence of Byzantine styles seems to go beyond painting. Indeed, though the Background information regarding the lacquer boxes states their visual style is German infleunced, but those flashing Byrantine reds in Couple in a Boat and Women and Hussar are hard to miss. This epidomizes a the constant combination and recomination of folk Russian and European traditions.

When looking at the paintings for today’s assigned discussion, one’s eyes would likely be immediately drawn to the colors. Vivid greens, reds, and blues jump out at you. Some paintings, however, remain muted, but the color isn’t what I want to focus on. The color is just an indication of the shift toward a less regal set of subjects, with many of these paintings taking place outside. The paintings we have looked at in this class were icons or portraits of the tsar or nobility. Instead of a man looking toward the viewer with a wry smile, the paintings from these artists portray the lives of everyday people doing everyday things. Take Spring, Plowlandby Venetsianov for example. This painting depicts a woman guiding a horse through a field to plow it while a baby plays off in the corner. This is a decidedly non-royal activity, which contrasts sharply with the past traditions of painting in Russia that we’ve seen in this class, which mainly consisted of royal/noble portraits and icons. Another example of peasant paintings from Venetsianov is On the Thresher Floor, which depicts some peasants resting and some working in a wooden building. Again, this style of painting, with peasants doing their work, is a drastic departure from previous norms, where the subjects were clean and poised for a portrait.

Even the portraits that were assigned for this class veer from the regal style we have seen before in this class. Those portraits were largely of nobles and leaders, as was apparent from their extravagant dress or the title of the painting, while these portraits are of people from much farther down on the socioeconomic ladder. Some examples include The Gold Embroideressand The Lace-Makerby Troponin. These portraits, as well as others we were assigned, were of peasants engaging in their occupation in less than luxurious clothing within the overall style of a portrait.

While there are paintings with religious themes, they relate much less to the standard template icons and more to the realistic painting style, with religious figures painted in realistic scenes. One such scene is The Appearance of Christ Before the People, where Jesus meets a group of people. Even the religious paintings seem to have evolved into a more European renaissance style, highlighting proportions and realism rather than borderline caricatures of religious figures as seen in previous icons.

Focus on the subjects in portraits is an obvious aspect of this style of painting. Although in these Russian paintings, I saw that there was a major difference in the painting style of the subject and the setting. The subject(s) have a very real depiction with lots of attention to detail. The detail given almost makes the subject look out of place in the setting due to the difference in style. I found that Karl Briullov’s portraits, “The Rider,” “Portrait of the Poet Alexei Tolstoy in His Youth,” and “Portrait of Maria Bek and Her Daughter,” showed the major difference in his painting style and lighting between the subject and the setting. I found this particularly interesting because Karl Briullov’s portraits are the only portraits with a setting in the background. The other Artist’s portraits have a plain or a very simplistic background.

One painting I found interesting was “Spring, Poland” by Alexei Venetsianov. The peasant is looking at a young child, who I think is the wealthy families child. The child is playing happily and seems to be enjoying life. The gaze of the peasant seems to present envy to the Childs freedom. The line of grass splitting the fields of the working peasant and the grassy area of the child furthers the contrast between the free child and the labored peasant. The painting is depicting the daily life of a peasant but also displaying the peasant’s envy of a free life.

Briullov’s paintings use a variety of elements to inform the viewer what he deems is most important, and the context for these things. For example, the use of light in the Last Day of Pompeii draws attention to the suffering people, who are uncertain of their fate and the causes of their plight. It forces the viewer to empathize with them, lying or pictured in abject fear, all while being surrounded by darkness and the soot-filled air. The contrast between dark and light shows the wreckage surrounding the survivors and highlights how mortified they are.

The use of light is a huge theme in many of the other works shown on the website. In The Siege of Pskov, the Polish clergy glows very brightly, the intensity weakening as the eye strays further from them. Glancing to the right, the fighting among the soldiers darkens the painting. I am sure this can be interpreted in many ways, but the light can serve to glamorize the Orthodox priests and the darkness to condemn the fighting. The faces of the painting also make you feel immersed: the women and onlookers seem horrified, the soldiers angry and full of rage, and the clergy determined to Christianize the newly acquired land.

Facial expression is another commonly employed element in these pieces of art. In Italian Midday, the woman on the ladder seems very happy to be picking the grape; her soft glare on to the fruit, smile and relaxed posture indicate she is enjoying what she is doing. Light, again, is another aspect of the painting as it peers through the canopy and on to her and the fruit. The grapes shine in the light, and the woman’s face is irradiated now by both light and joy.

What struck me when looking through several of the paintings in this section was a clear focus on the mundane aspects of Russian life.  This is a stark contrast from other art that we have looked at thus far, in particular the painting of Ivan, which depicts humanity at its most extreme.  Rather, these paintings depict a life that most people could relate to, invoking a more intimate and personal reaction from the viewer.  

However, based on  past readings, particularly A Journey from Moscow to St. Petersburg as well as historical context regarding the treatment of Russian peasants as well as the institution of serfdom, I couldn’t help but ask myself whether or not these depictions of peasant life were accurate.  It seems as though the various artists are romanticizing a life that in reality is one of extreme hardship. In particular, the ‘Spring, Plowland” painting came across as rather idealized. The woman in the painting appears calm and content with her peasant life.  Additionally, the “Fortune Telling” painting suggests a life of leisure and comfort in Russia–far from the reality for most people of the lower class.   

I may be looking at these paintings too critically, and there is such beauty found in the aspects of life as depicted, but is this depiction reality?  That, I am not so sure of. But, perhaps that is the purpose of “romantic realism”, to blur the line between romance and reality.

Another small thing I noticed is that many of the peasants depicted are women, while most portraits are of men. Is this a common theme throughout Russian art, or it is just the particular sample of paintings we are looking at?