Tag Archives: Animal

Cycles of Power and Cycles of Pain: Symbolism of the Peg Leg and Borzya in Shukshin’s “Harvesting”

Shukshin’s “Harvesting” recounts the exhaustive farm-work of a teenage boy under the abusive power of Ivan Alekseich, a fictitious chairman of a collective farm during Soviet Russia. This week’s blog post, inspired by last week’s class comments on the restrictive and communal nature of Soviet Russia, will thus attempt to analyze the symbolism of various images and scenes in Shukshin’s piece, such as Borzya’s visceral response to the chairman’s peg leg, and the chairman’s reaction to higher authority, i.e. the committee representative.

We are first introduced to interactions between the chairman and Borzya, the “infinitely good-tempered scamp of a dog,” when the chairman meets with his farmhands Sanka, Ilyukba, Vanka, and Vaska, to scold them each for their workplace laziness (Shukshin 231). Note that Borzya, instead of being introduced as the farm dog, is identified with the plural personal pronoun “our” (231). Already, we get a connotation of sharedness and communism that often goes hand-in-hand with descriptions of “the kolkhoz” during Soviet Russia. Even the dog, a seemingly unimportant character, is shared communally. That said, the part of this passage that I want to pay closest attention to is the moments amidst Alekseich’s berating of the four teenage workers when he notices his higher committee representative. Fear of the representative and his impromptu arrival propels the chairman out of his chair in order to demonstrate a more attentive and administrative demeanor. Recall that before the chairman began his scolding, Vanka reveals that the “chairman [Alekseich] is simply incapable of flying into a rage on demand” (231). Instead, Alekseich usually delivers a “wishy-washy,” indirect scolding (231). Beating-around-the-bush implies that Alekseich’s strict control is not initiated entirely by his own reactions and sentiments. If they were, their delivery would be more natural and succinct. Instead, his “wishy-washy” suggest uncertainty, especially since he often becomes distracted by independent, unrelated thoughts such as “the quails … [that] destroy all sorts of larvae …” (231). To me, this uncertainty implies that he himself represents a second-hand funneling of power from some other, more authoritative force. Perhaps, this force is the representative, for as soon as he enters, Alekseich “leap[s] to his feet,” and “start[s] banging his fist on the table and shouting” (231). Clearly, the prominence of the committee representative evokes a more aggressive and authoritative façade from Alekseich.

Furthermore, right after the sudden shift of Alekseich’s authoritative tone due to the representative’s arrival, we see the only interaction between Chairman Alekseich and the communal dog Borzya, specifically: the chairman’s trampling of Borzya’s tail, and his subsequent obliviousness to Borzya’s painful cries. Naturally, Alekseich’s peg leg and its inability to sense its position like a normal human foot would perfectly explains why Alekseich would not feel Borzya’s tail underneath him. However, what strikes me as odd is that even after Borzya “let[s] out an otherworldly howl,” the chairman still remains oblivious, and instead of realizing Borzya’s pain, “shout[s] over the dog” (232). Alekseich’s peg leg— and its lack of spatial senses—justifies his initial disregard of Borzya, the communal dog. However, Alekseich still fails to acknowledge Borzya after Borzya clearly expresses a perceivable vocal gesture. For a generally attentive chairman, that had even “caught sight of” Vanka after descent into the rye, I am surprised that he Alekseich remains undisturbed by Borzya (229). That said, I think this outright ignorance is purposeful on Shukshin’s part, as if to say that all sense and emotion is subservient to the perceptions of authority. The fact that the chairman cannot feel Borzya’s tail is understandable, but the fact that the chairman cannot hear Borzya’s cries conveniently while the chairman performs for the representative, suggests that another force is at work here—similar to how the unplanned and convoluted delivery of Alekseich’s scolding suggests the indirect authoritative force of the representative. Also, it is ironic how that in each of these cases, relaying of discipline comes indirectly: the committee representative never explicitly states anything to Alekseich, and Alekseich’s neither purposely steps on Borzya’s tail, nor does he directly nor fervently scold the four teenagers. However, when power is present, i.e. the committee representative, Alekseich becomes a completely different person that angrily scolds his workers and even potentially injures Borzya with purpose. And Borzya, this symbolic dog representing the ownership of the entire community, aimlessly writhes in pain. There is something ironic about the image of this dog biting at an animate peg and thus biting at his own tail. Further, this illustration of the Borzya, a conduit for the entire community, (if you will), biting his own tail, suggests a sense of self-sabotage that is almost comical, evidenced by a unanimous uproar by the peasants, “rolling on the ground with laughter” (233). As readers, we see an illustration of Borzya (the community), responding to oppressive authority (the chairman) who himself does not primarily harbor his own anger, but rather channels the sentiments of more superior authority (the committee representative). In sum, we are left with two cyclical processes: the funneling and subsequent magnification of power and control from high society down through local superiors in Soviet Russian, and the aimless self-sabotage that occurs when the masses fight back against this exponentially strengthened power and control.

In sum, I hope that my analysis, though up for extensive interpretation, lends meaning to some of the symbols in Shukshin’s “Harvesting—” specifically the working class community and its apparent entrapment beneath the “communist” yet obviously authoritative power chain. I personally believe that this reading of Shukshin’s piece could perhaps initiate a dialogue regarding the inextricable connection to power and authority in a society that is meanwhile run by and intended for public’s greater good.

The Peasant Cow

A first reading of Platonov’s The Cow might lead one to believe that it simply depicts a sad situation for peasants that witness the slow decline and death of their only female cow on the collective farm. Upon closer examination, and considering the time and context in which this story takes place (likely 1938 or 1939), the text reveals the contemporary peasant condition through the cow’s behavior in a rapidly changing world. In other words, the descriptions of the cow better communicate what the peasants are experiencing during this time than the peasants themselves do.

At the beginning of the story, the cow is described as living alone in a shed in the countryside and having a bull calf of her own (247). Her world is quickly disturbed, as her calf is taken away by her owner peasant to receive treatment by a vet after falling ill (247). This act of taking her calf away, along with her described as giving all her strength for the purpose of producing milk and work, causes the cow to embody the attributes of an exploited peasant under the collective farm system present during this time in history (248). While the peasant boy, Vasya, appears to care for the cow, it is clear that the peasants value the cow just for the milk and work she produces. This especially comes to the fore when Vasya’s father returns without the bull calf, claiming that despite the calf having recovered, it was best to sell “him to the slaughterhouse” as a bull is of little value (254).  The cow, longing for the return of her calf, falls into a depressed mood, while the narrator describes her as “not understand[ing] that it is possible to forget one happiness, to find another and then live again, not suffering any longer” (255). One can extrapolate the description of the cow to the peasants of this time, as it reinforces the idea of the backwards peasant who cannot cope with the loss of their lives as they knew them before collectivization. While the authorities who imposed collectivization may have had the attitude that the peasant could simply forget what they loved in the past and embrace new forms of happiness, Platonov’s work makes it clear that this was not the case.

The cow’s death in the final section of the story highlights the tragedy of the peasant under collectivization. The image of the cow, unable to escape in time, struck by the train running down the line is powerful and evokes the sense that nothing can stop the peasant from in a sense being annihilated by political and industrial forces of the time (257). While the analysis of this ending scene could greatly be expanded, the engine driver sums up the condition of the peasants perfectly with this foreboding statement: “she was running away from the engine, but she was slow and she didn’t have the sense to get off the line… I thought she would” (257).