In “Snakes,” Zabolotsky suggests the lack of connection or understanding between humans and nature. First of all, it’s important to note that snakes tend to represent evil in literature; however, this poem depicts an image of several snakes simply sleeping among rocks, under the sun. Even when a “bird cries out above them, or a bug howls boldly past” the snakes do not respond, and carry on in their own, motionless worlds (“Snakes,” 9-10). (Note the atypical usage of animal noise words; crying birds and howling bugs seem to have a more grim connotation than the “singing” or “fluttering” birds depicted in many of the other pastoral poems we read for today.) There is a clear distinction in the different “characters” at play in the poem: the snakes, time, the philosopher, and possibly the “fellow men” (26). It seems that the characters, particularly the snakes, do not interact with the others. The snakes are physically separated from time that “drifts by upon the air” “above them” (16, 15). When the philosopher comes upon the snakes, he asks, “What is their origin, their purpose, can they be justified?” These philosophical questions seem theoretical (even lofty), and the poem reveals nothing about the snakes interacting back with the philosopher. Again, they seem to just exist in their own separate sphere.

The very last four lines are the most interesting of this poem. The philosopher departs, “avoiding his fellow men.” It is unclear whether these men are actually the snakes, or whether they are representing the rest of human society. The first possible interpretation (fellow men as snakes) would suggest that the snakes, characterized as “indigent… enigmatic… weighty images of sleep” are a class of people. The latter interpretation (fellow men as society) would suggest that perhaps the philosopher is trying his best to connect with the snakes, however nature only serves as an oppressor, “stand[ing] above him like a cell”, remaining a mystery to him (28). This last line also further points to the disconnect between nature and the philosopher, because nature still stands above him.

This poem distinguishes itself from most other poems from today’s theme, because I believe it depicts a more negative and complex relationship between man and nature. With more space, I would delve into the connection between this poem and Pasternak’s “The Steppe,” which also portrays some of the negative interpretations of nature, relative to human sin.

I found the use of gardens in both “On the Golden Porch” and “The Scent of Apples” interesting because, although on the surface they seem totally different, they both symbolize disillusionment and emotional turmoil throughout the seasons.

Tolstaya describes childhood as a garden, “without end or limit, without borders and fences, in noises and rustling, golden in the sun, pale green in the shade, a thousand layers thick” (41). Immediately I was struck by the short life of both a garden, especially through a Russian winter, and childhood itself. Though Tolstaya describes Uncle Pasha’s garden as his “Paradise,” the garden is also the setting for many of the familial conflicts with Veronika. This familial conflict begins the disenchantment of visiting Uncle Pasha that grows throughout the entire story.

The first introduction of a garden in the Bunin piece was similarly romantic to that of the Tolstaya: “the big garden, its dry and thinned-out leaves turning golden in the early light. I remember the avenue of maples, the delicate smell of the fallen leaves, and the scent of autumn apples” (3). Though Benin does not initially make implicit what gardens mean to the speaker, their beauty and impact are obvious. The speaker describes his Aunt’s garden as being famous for its “neglected state.” His Aunt’s home is also where he first claims to have felt serfdom, which is revisited when the author oversleeps his hunt.

The contexts of the stories still strike me as very different, but both introduce a nostalgic look at gardens and how the evolving life of a garden can be very similar to the ever-evolving human condition as it relates to changing societal behaviors and growing up.

I really appreciate how Tolstaya uses the narrator (a young woman), the imagery of a vast, beautiful garden, and Pasha’s affair with Margarita to tie in notions of youthfulness among both life and death. Tolstaya starts off by using the garden as a metaphor for childhood: “In the beginning was the garden. Childhood was a garden. Without end or limit, without borders and fences…”. With this lyrical style of writing, Tolstaya is able to capture the essence of the gardens in his long, detailed descriptions, and bring in the themes of innocence and curiosity characteristic of childhood. Later in the piece, Tolstaya writes of Pasha’s journey to the garden after a day of work, “…hurries to his Garden, his Paradise, where evening peace comes from the lake…”. By capitalizing “Garden” and “Paradise” the reader is forced to acknowledge and respect the role of the garden in Pasha’s life and in this piece more broadly. She later writes of the garden as an experience that transports Pasha “into the land of lost youth, the land of hopes come true…”. This ties back the idea of the youthfulness and the simplicity that the garden brings to even adult life.

The garden – childhood – does not present Pasha with any “borders” and “fences” and has proven to have no “end” or “limit”, as he revisits it each time he returns to the garden. This piece ties in perfectly with the theme for today’s class, The 20^th-century nostalgic pastoral. The pastoral is often depicted by a peaceful and beautiful landscape that has been tamed or maintained by humankind. A garden is the perfect example of this. Additionally, there are themes of nostalgia in Tolstaya’s piece as she discusses the beauty of childhood from the perspective of the narrator and of Pasha.

A striking question posed by several poets in their works, “In early autumn sweetly wistful…,” “Autumn,” and “The Poet,” is whether winter truly symbolizes death or merely a period of dormancy. The implication therein being the forthcoming awakening, with regards to Russia as a landscape and a country awaiting to potential glory. A time many view as a colorful prelude to dark, cold days of misery, Tyutchev marvels at autumn as “sweetly wistful” as though dreaming of and awaiting the future. In the second stanza, the stark images of death and abandonment, “empty fields…where sickles ravaged in the harvest’s ebb” both evokes the ebb and flow of time and the forthcoming bereavement of life in winter. But Tyutchev balances this image with the hopeful evidence of a single living spider. And in the face of flight-prone and fanciful birds that are “afraid of future shadows” (“In early autumn sweetly wistful…,” 9), the divine “heaven pours its azure, pure and warm, / on quietly resting fields and meadows…” (“In early autumn sweetly wistful…,” 11-12). Rather than this imminent and depressing death, the fields are simply restoring themselves in divine emptiness. Somehow hopeful, this poem does not disparage winter, long though Russia faces it, but glories in its peaceful rest and potential to be awoken.

Similarly, Pushkin does not dread the oncoming darkness and cold, but in his poem “Autumn,” he loves “the splendid fading of those days” (“Autumn”, VII:3). In this prolonged Russian winter, he “sleep[s] a lot and sometimes even eat[s]” (“Autumn,” VIII: 4) and yet finds himself awoken with passion and struck with creativity that causes frantic “fingers seek[ing] the pen, and pen–the sheets; /One moment–and the verses flow in time!” (“Autumn,” XI:3-4). Not only is he struck with creative genius, but it flows from him perfectly! Like the bard called forth by the Sun God, Apollo, “The poet’s dormant soul is stirred / And like a mighty eagle wakes.” (“The Poet,” 11-12). These two figures are both awoken with divine inspiration like an eagle soaring over the wonders of the land or a ship breaking the waves with the swiftness of its passage.

Do these poets hold the image of Russia in the backs of their minds, her long and barren winters often mistaken for lifeless? “Even sleeping you astonish me,” proclaims Blok (“Russia,” 1), but what will happen when she awakes?

In this week’s blog post, I would like to pay close attention to the way that our selected features of Russian art and literature seem to collectively attribute different characteristics and tones for different genders. Specifically, I noticed that many authors attribute softer, warmer, and more forgiving characteristics, colors, and tones to feminine personifications of the Russian environment, or perhaps even to the female figures featured in landscape pieces by painters like Isaak Levitan and Aleksei Savrasov.

To begin, I will start with Mikhail Lermontov’s poem “The Cliff” and comment on the way that Lermontov personifies both the “golden cloud” and the “mountain’s breast” using female-gendered pronouns (Lermontov). Immediately, the reader feels a proposed connection between sky and woman; words like “gold,” “sleeps,” and “aflame” conflate the color gold with notions of the sky and godliness, yielding the image of a cloud that possesses a warm and powerful feminine force (Lermontov). In contrast, Lermontov’s inclusion of “the trace of dew,” which “looms,” and “softly weeps,” implies a colder and less-powerful masculine force (Lermontov). Even though Lermontov never states the dew as weak and puny, he nonetheless references the color gold, woman, and her godliness. Together, these characteristics comprise a theme of feminine divineness, which is further developed in other literature like Alexander Pushkin’s poem “Autumn,” in which Pushkin invokes a “Mother [Nature]” archetype, along with a description of Her “gentle beauty” and “somber blaze” (Pushkin). It is clear that warm, golden colors, and women have an inextricable, heavenly connection.

If we step away from written literature, we see can that this motif of woman, godliness, and gold, appears also in the Russian paintings of Isaak Levitan and Aleksei Savrasov. First, in “Autumn Day in Sokolniki (1879),” Levitan paints a female figure that walks along a golden path, surrounded by golden trees and emerald grasses. A soft blue sky peeking through fluffy, glowing clouds leaves the viewer with a godly regard for the woman of this landscape. In fact, there is a more obvious connection between woman and her “godly regard” in Savrasov’s “View of the Kremlin in Stormy Weather (1851).” The borders of this painting are comprised of unforgiving blues and solemn greys, though at the center of Savrasov’s painting, there is a female figure that nearly glows from the page. As she traverses a path through what seems to be a Russian village, the viewer watches her as the golden wake she leaves behind transfers some of its godly glow into the surrounding landscape. Viewers can witness this woman’s connection with nature transcending the physical environment— a portion of the scene in the wake of her glow is The Kremlin itself. Perhaps Savrasov is making an even greater claim about not only the link between nature, woman, and divinity, but also between The Kremlin, which itself represents the center of Russian government, and a large pillar of Russian culture.

In addition, other various paintings by Levitan and Savrasov also emphasize many of the gendered characteristics noted above. For example, Savrasov’s figure painting entitled “Rainbow (1873)” utilizes a bright variety of colors, specifically through a rainbow that shines down on the central figure— a female that tends the crops around her. Again, a sense of kindness and harmony is enhanced by warm colors, and a godly regard for the woman of this painting is established through her placement at the center of the canvas.

If I had more room in this blog post, I could elaborate on the cold colors and dark shadows comprising the male figures in both Savrasov’s “Winter (1873)”, and his “Spring Thaw, Yaroslavl (1874)”. Perhaps someone else in the class would be interested in responding to this blog post or creating new entry about what seems to be a stern and unforgiving tone surrounding the masculine features of Russia’s environment, specifically within the context of 19^th century Russia. Please let me know what you think!

Pushkin’s two stanza “The Poet” presents descriptions of writers before and after moments of divine inspiration. Pushkin idolizes the poet, describing the average citizen as “this world’s unworthy sons” (7). Pushkin’s poet may exist within the average society, but is occasionally called upon by a divine figure and through this connection is given a unique inspiration in which his verse is produced. The concluding couplet of Pushkin’s “The Poet”, as well as choice descriptive adjectives imply that not only is a pious connection necessary to produce a profound commentary on society, but also a separation of the poet from society and a devolution to the natural.

Pushkin’s second stanza describes the inspirational process of the poet and the metamorphosis that “divine inspiring word” (10) has on the writer. Such inspiration causes the soul of the poet to, “like a mighty eagle wakes” (12). The eagle is a natural symbol of freedom and mobility: the eagle is an apex predator who can navigate natural landscapes with ease. Additionally, the eagle cannot be tamed or domesticated, rather can only thrive and exist away from society in the wilderness. Pushkin’s inspired poet is similar to the eagle in that it no longer can thrive within society, and has to remove itself to thrive. His comparison fortifies the poet’s heightened connection to nature, and inability to work within the confines of developed society. His ending couplet fortifies the necessity of the reclusive poet. To comment on society, the poet must remove himself inhabiting only the “vacant” (14) natural spaces.

Even more so, Pushkin’s adjective choice fortifies the poet’s necessary transmutation to the natural. The inspired poet is a misfit in normal society, is “fierce and savage” (17) and “consumed with madness” (18). Puskin’s adjectives depict the poet similarly to a wild animal who is misplaced outside of the wilderness. The poet’s transformation “unbowed” his “head” (16) and frees his thinking from the pressures and demands of the society’s “blabbling crowd” (14). The poet’s reversion to natural society is required for his insight into society and allows him to think freely.

Pushkin’s naturalistic poet fortifies Pushkin’s commentary on the necessity of the natural environment. Although Pushkin believes that one can exist within society finely, Pushkin also elicits that poetic perspective is only obtainable through reclusiveness and a deep connection to nature.