Rythkheu’s A Dream in Polar Fog brings back the theme of a mutually beneficial relationship between man and nature: nature will be kind to the man that is kind to it and, in contrast, will do no favors for the man who is unkind to it. This relationship between man and nature is shown in the contrast between the white man and the Chukchi and in the value of trade in the different societies.

The relationship between man and nature first appeared when the Belinda was getting overrun by the ice field. Rythkheu explains that “Belinda’s speed depended on the speed of the north-easterly wind that was driving the churning ice… The last hope that they had was that the ice would carry the vessel through the straits and into the open waters of the Bering Sea” (18). Though the men are capable sailors, they are totally at the will of nature. When the sailors try to manipulate nature by blowing out the ice, John is punished by the explosion. In describing the explosion, Rythkheu invokes the northern lights: “That first instant, John saw a blazing light, as though it were the Northern Lights rearing up in front of his eyes” (20). The use of the Northern Lights as the description for the explosion makes it seem like nature is teaching John a lesson for trying to over power it. Had not the snow and ice covered the fifth cartridge, the explosions still would likely not have helped the Belinda return to sea.

The Chukchi, who have a much more positive relationship with nature than the sailors, value trade over money. When the Captain first tries to enlist Orvo’s help, he “laid down a crumpled wad of paper notes, the kind that Orvo had not much faith in, despite knowing well that the whites liked them no less than the metal ones” (11). Money offers the Chukchi little value in the arctic, but because the white man is just a visitor, he does not grasp the value of useful items for trade until later in the bargain. Trade is also a symbol for the relationship with nature that the Chukchi have. After the Shaman Kelena heals John and kills the dog, she buries the dog’s bones in the snow and afterwards chants: “Let the white man’s anger blow past us like a springtime storm. We saved his life. Teach him this, and make him understand what we did” (59). Though Kelena would not accept payment for her services, she does hope that John will understand the ways of the Chukchi and, in turn, the way to both give to and receive from nature.

There is not enough space in a blog post to include all of the evidence I found about this connection, and it is definitely not a fully formed thought, but I found it impossible to ignore the resurfacing of the idea of a mutually beneficial relationship between humans and nature and how trade, both human to human and human to nature, is often a factor in man’s relationship with nature.

Across the works for today’s reading, depictions of the Caucasus seem to be quite consistent with one another. Overall, the Caucasus, as a vast and idealized region, differs from the sentiments we’ve typically seen associated with Russia’s forest. On the other hand, it seems to align more closely with associations of the steppe and the countryside.

When we previously read works such as “Vasilisa the Beautiful” and Uncle Vanya, we noted that the authors commonly associated the Russian forest with a sense of mystery. For example, in “Vasilisa the Beautiful,” we saw that the forest is vast, and contains both evil and good creatures. With Laura Henry, we discussed how culturally important this sense of the deep, mysterious, and never-ending forest was for Russia.

On the other hand, in reading works (like those of Esenin and Pasternak) from the pastoral setting, we learned about the feelings of nostalgia that authors felt for the simplicity of the countryside.

Tolstoy, Pushkin, and Lermontov all value the Caucasus as a place of simplicity, natural beauty, and romance. Just as Esenin spoke so fondly of the simplicity of the countryside peasant lifestyle, these writers convey their heartache and nostalgia for the Caucasus, as a simple place that offers escape from their societies. Lermontov’s  “Peace beneath Caucasian skies,” is a simple escape from societal values of rank. Pushkin’s “heart must burn and love” while in the Georgian Hills, and later, his “heart still longs” as he is forced to be reminded of “another life, a distant shore.”

I find especially interesting that many of these ideas of the Caucasus have to do with romance. As Olenin fantasizes about the “kisses…shoulders…sweet voice…and submissiveness” of the woman he will meet in the Caucasus, he demonstrates the fetishization of the entire Caucasian region. Since cossacks are admired for their masculinity, Olenin prepares himself to be just as masculine and romantic himself.

As we look more closely at each of these different ecosystems and regions, it is becoming clear that “nature” is not just a sweeping concept or place, but rather, the amalgamation of many individual, distinct concepts, each with its own emotional associations.

Going forward, I’d like to think more about what it means that for today’s authors, the Caucasus are an escape from home; they write as outsiders.

“The Motherland of Electricity” wrestles with the consequences of communism on the human psyche and the forced perception of a Baconian environmental relationship (meaning the environment is there to be used for scientific and humanitarian gains). One of the most striking moments of imagery in the story is a page long description of a necklace of the Virgin Mary, one which is depicted without her son and as her being more of a laborer than a saint. In this passage, I believe Platonov is asking the reader to consider the parallels between Mary and the Communist worker.

The comparison begins with the doomed fates of both Mary and the Communist worker. If you take the immaculate conception away from its religious valor, Mary herself is a doomed laborer of God. She has no choice in her fate of motherhood, and the production of children in the case of Jesus can be (problematically) consider a commodity. Platonov describes that the Mary in the amulet is without the son in her arms, highlighting her role as mother and taking away her piousness. Additionally, Platonov depicts this Mary as, “simply an unbelieving working woman who lived by her own labors and received no favors from any god” (265). Platonov’s Mary looks at the world “without meaning or faith,” (265) directly subverting the very ways in which Mary is exalted, at its most extremes within the Catholic church, for her unwavering faith.

If we consider Jesus as Mary’s production of a commodity, Platonov’s amulet begins to elevate the importance of labor and the production of commodities within Russian society. As Mary’s labors are the salvation from sin, Platonov is implying that the common worker’s labors are the cause of the salvation of the country. Just as Mary unquestionably birthed Jesus and proceeded in her labor with no complaint, so should the Russian worker, such as our electrician

The selected poems from Serge Esenin’s collection demonstrate a progression in the evolving attitude toward Russian lifestyle. This progression  reflects the rapid historical changes occurring during the tumultuous early 20th century. Stepping from one poem to the next, the reader can see how each next work features a shift in lifestyle, based on the contextof war and revolution.

First, the earliest poem in the collection purely praises the narrator’s pre-war countryside lifestyle. I assume it was written in 1914 still before the war. Esenin colors the traditional Russian countryside lifestyle in a pleasant way, celebrating the “never-ending land of wonder” of Mother Russia. He provides a full sensory depiction of the simple joys of this lifestyle: “Smelling of sweet honey and apples…/And the sounds of festive dancing/Fill the fields and meadows broad.” Esenin’s love for his country is rooted deeply in the countryside lifestyle, surrounded by nature.

In his next poem, “Land of mine in dire neglect…” Esenin reveals the loss of this countryside lifestyle which he so adores. I assume that this was written just months after his previous poem. Perhaps by this time, the war has begun, and the villagers have left their homes to fight in the war. He now looms sorrowfully on how the countryside lifestyle is being abandoned. It only remains as a distant “fairytale” whose remnants are only left in the feather-grass. Esenin depicts an eerie image of the disintegrating countryside and cottages that remain.

By the time Esenin writes his 1924 poem, “It can’t be dispelled…”, his tone devolves further into his feelings of loss. Whereas in the previous poem, the abandonment of the countryside lifestyle was just beginning, here he demonstrates his nostalgia for the past. He observes the decimated landscape, and laments that, “All this is familiar and close to me,/That’s why I so readily cry.” Esenin writes of post-revolution Russia, in which life as he knew it has been completely changed, and his “white linden blossom” can no-longer be revived.

Lastly, in his 1925 poem, “The disquiet of vaporous moonshine…”, Esenin takes a different approach, cautiously embracing the new industrialized lifestyle. He appears to denounce the old lifestyle: “For nothing on earth would I like now/To hear that sound [wagon wheels] ever again.” However, he continues to feel out of place in this new Russia, saying, “I’ve no place in the new life, I feel, Yet still wish to see poor drab Russia/ A prospering country of steel.” Esenin reveals his conflicted feelings, as he himself tries to abandon his love for Russia’s countryside, in favor of a new Russia.

The first time I read through Blok’s “Autumn Day” I was struck by his sad tone, especially because, on the surface, it seemed to deal with very similar natural themes to the other works we have read. Upon my second reading, I was interested in the double meaning of the word “crane.” Though at first I read it as crane the animal, it could also be a construction crane. The leader, who I initially assumed was the leader of the flock of birds, could be the head worker crying out instructions to his other workers. The dark imagery of the rest of the poem supports this reading of industrialization. Blok writes that “no eye can count or measure… / and burning a hole in the dusk / a fire in a distant pasture…” (90). This “fire in the distant pasture” could symbolize the destruction of nature, specifically the idealistic pastoral image that occupies so much of Russian natural literature.

After witnessing the destruction of the land first-hand, the speaker of the poem questions “poor land, poor land, what do you mean / to the heart that moves in me?” (91). Though the speaker is devastated by the sight of the demolition of nature, he is already questioning what the natural land really meant to him. I think that this shows that, although there are many advocates for the environment and for preservation of natural landscapes, people are too quick to embrace industry, regardless of the natural cost.

In The Motherland of Electricity by Andrey Platonov, the absence of God and the emphasis of labor in the creation of a new world creates a sense of alienation for the characters, a loneliness of setting out into uncharted territory without a supernatural force looking out for you. These characters are the participants in a revolutionary movement attempting to do what has never been done before, to progress past capitalism, religion, and other traditions and create a state of utopia. And this conflict between the revolutionary zeal of the revolution and generations of religious faith in Russia has thrust the characters minds into doubt and confusion, and their lives into a dreary existence of menial work and poverty.

Throughout the text, Platonov implies that the life of the worker is miserable. He compares the weary eyes of the worker to to the beauty of a statue of the Virgin Mary, a relic of Russia’s Christian past: “…the dark beauty of her face, her fine nose or large eyes—which did not seem like those of a worker, since such eyes tire too quickly.” The worker Platonov is describing is specifically a worker living in a world where atheist thought prevails. A world where work has no heavenly purpose, it is solely being done for the real, physical world. This lack of meaning in the most basic, daily part of their lives causes the characters to question their existence and purpose in this new communist world.

Feelings of loneliness are emphasized in this Soviet world; while the decision that the people’s will is law, and that everyone is in complete charge of their future, is of course empowering, it is also intensely depressing to walk throughout the world and make decisions without the confidence that is guaranteed by the idea of a higher power. At the end of the story the narrator is sitting at night, thinking, and is struck by that feeling of intense loneliness: “I sat in thought by the river, which was quietly flowing into the distance, and I looked up at the concentration of stars in the sky, that future field of humanity’s activity, that deathless sucking emptiness filled with anxious and diminutive matter beating away in the rhythm of its unknown fate…” The cosmos are empty, and thus he realizes that the consequences of his actions are entirely his, and the consequences of humanity entirely ours, a profoundly heavy burden to bear.

There is, of course, meaning to be found in this communist world, not necessarily in the menial nature of the work, but rather in the grand spirit of socialist idealism. This is expertly shown in the character of Secretary Zharyonov, the party leader who creates poetry out of his life of bureaucracy. This is especially apparent in the image of him sleeping with his two hungry children: “Only their father lay there with a happy face that was as welcoming as ever; he was in command of his body and of all the tormenting forces of nature, the magic tension of genius continually bringing joy to a heart that had faith in the mighty future of proletarian humanity.” He is able to compartmentalize his suffering for what he believes is the common good. And not only is he able to do that, but it is also that very faith in the system and a brighter future that keeps him going each and every day.

With the theme of the countryside and village life in times of change in mind, while reading Esenin’s poems I sensed a certain longing for the Russian homeland before the changes occurred and a certain resistance toward the industrialization and deforestation that was rapidly altering the natural state of the country. “Hey there, Russia, mother country…” really captured this resistance. The last stanza reads:

 If the heavenly host should beg me:

“Come to live in heaven above!”

I shall say: “Don’t give me heaven

But the Russia that I love.”

Using religious metaphor to emphasize the poet’s desire for the Russia that he once knew, by turning down the theoretical offer of the Lord to return to Heaven, we get a glimpse of the sadness and longing the poet feels. A similar idea is portrayed in “It can’t be dispelled, can this sorrow…”. The third stanza read:

Familiar views and expanses

By moonlight now seem not so fine.

Ravines … tree-stumps … bare slopes have saddened

These Russian horizons of mine.

What the poet once appreciated about their homeland is now less attractive and is seemingly “unfamiliar”. After describing the new landscape, the poem reads in the sixth stanza:

All of this is what we call the homeland,

Because of all this we meanwhile

In rainy days cry and drink vodka

While waiting for heaven to smile.

This stanza really conveys how disheartened the people of Russia are through the changes brought upon their once worshipped homeland. Lastly, the poem “The disquiet of vaporous moonshine…” directly references the industrialization and deforestation of the Russia countryside and village land by referencing “things made of steel and of stone” and the soil-tilling, primitive plough, and poplar and birch trees suffering anguish in the fifth stanza. The sixth stanza really stuck out to me:

For myself, I don’t know my own future…

I’ve no place in the new life, I feel,

Yet still wish to see poor drab Russia

A prospering country of steel.

These lines accurately portray the loss of identity and belongingness residents faced as a result of industrialization and deforestation. Suddenly people are unsure of their future and the role they play in their rapidly-changing homeland.

I found the short stories and poetry, as well as a few of Brodsky’s paintings, to effectively show a connection between emotions and settings. In much of the art and literature, the setting, not just the places but also the seasons, act almost as characters in the story. They are powerful settings, filled with images that evoke strong reactions in the reader.

When you are a kid, summer is a world not forced into the regular confines of adult society. You are content to wander the mysterious world, giving yourself over to impulses and fleeting thoughts. Tolstaya puts it well in On the Golden Porch when she says “In the beginning was the garden. Childhood was a garden. Without end or limit, without borders and fences, in noises and rustling, golden in the sun, pale green in the shade…”. There is also a sense of unpredictability about summer, a strange haze that changes the way you see the world. Like shortly later in the short story when a naked man appears out of the lake.

The Scent of Apples elicits a similar sentiment. Bunin starts the story with feelings familiar to anyone who has experienced the magic of a late summer. “In August there were warm and gentle rains – rains that seemed to fall deliberately to help the sowing.” There is a reason that this sets the tone for the story so well, it is easy to connect to and instantly calming. The narrator keeps describing the idyllic surroundings: “I remember a fresh and quiet morning… The air’s so clear it seems there is no air at all” This aura is also well represented in Isaaak Brodsky’s painting “Golden Autumn”. It is colorful and nostalgic, and though its leaf’s visibly changing colors may signify the end of something, they also imply and remind us of the intensely familiar cycle of a year.

I imagine that this idea of setting and climate evoking strong reactions and connections from the reader in art and literature will prove to be important throughout this course, as it shows that a humans connection to nature can be universal, and that nature can foster feelings that people of all different cultures can share.