Tag Archives: The Cossacks

Olenin vs. John

Comparing The Cossacks and A Dream in Polar Fog – this last section of Rytkheu’s A Dream in Polar Fog reminded me of Tolstoy’s The Cossacks in a couple of ways, but I will discuss two here. First is the way in which two different social classes think about themselves and “the other”. In The Cossacks, Olenin and his aristocratic fellows of Moscow are divided both physically and socioeconomically from the people of the Caucasus. Olenin, of course, has his own preconceived notions of the Cossack people, but nonetheless claims to go on this journey with an open mind and lofty goals for self-improvement. At the start of Chapter 21, John says, “The thing that divides us from one another is stereotypes about others and wrong ideas about ourselves… I think that the biggest mistake might be this: Each nation thinks that it’s the only one that lives in the right way… In itself, the idea is harmless. It even helps keep order in a society. But when a nation tries to change another’s way of life forcibly, that’s when things go wrong” (Rytkheu 222). I believe this to be true in the majority of cultures and societies, but do not feel this overlaps with how Olenin feels about the Cossack society. As the story goes on, we see Olenin purge himself of the wealthy values he’s adopted through high society Moscow in an attempt to integrate himself into this new village lifestyle he desires. He finds the simplistic lifestyles and values of the Cossack people beautiful and in this sense, does not appear to believe his aristocratic life is any better than that of the Cossack people. In fact, Olenin is sickened by the life he once led.

Second, the personification of nature appears in A Dream in Polar Fog as it does in The Cossacks. Also, in this same chapter, Orvo says, “…man starts to believe that he is the strongest and the smartest, and that he is the only master of the earth. And this is how it goes, for a time. But then, nature, Narginen, the Outer Forces, take away all the extraneous things… This is the kind of storm the Outer Forces use to clear away all that can lift man about them… It’s as though Narginen is reminding us: I’m master here, and it’s only on my sufferance that man lives here at all…” (Rytkheu 230). At the bottom of page 229, it is noted that *Narginen is defined as “the external forces that guide all life”. In The Cossacks, Olenin states, “Perhaps in her I love nature, the personification of all that is beautiful in nature; But I do not have a will of my own, and what loves her is some elemental force passing through me all of God’s world, all of nature presses this love into my soul and says: “Love” (Tolstoy 148). Olenin’s quote here shows that nature is stronger than him and therefore has control over him and his love for Maryanka. In this instance, the Narginen Orvo references, to me, seems relatable to the elemental forces Olenin mentions.

 

Intellectual vs Practical Skills

Rytkheu’s A Dream in Polar Fog, provides an interesting perspective on the benefit of intellectual versus practical skills for exploration and survival. The main character, John, is initially described as an academic from Port Hope who indulges in stories about faraway seas (16-17). Clearly enamored with the thought of traveling and visiting distant lands, he embarks on a journey out of Nome. Once the ship gets stuck in the ice, however, it is revealed that the skills from his life at the university are not sufficient for him to manage in the rugged arctic landscape. Throughout the first ten chapters, John’s intellectual skills, such as reading and writing, prove themselves of little use compared to the practical skills of the native population.

John mishandling the dynamite at the beginning of the story reveals his lack of practical skills and intuition. He is described as “not thinking” as he bends over to grab the dynamite cartridge buried in the snow, when it detonates and severely injuries his hands (20). This lapse in judgment highlights his lack of experience doing challenging and dangerous physical work needed for such an expedition. While other crew members likely have experience using dynamite, John is given the responsibility despite his expertise not lying in arctic exploration. While his dreams of “seasoned mariners… [and] distant lands… undiscovered by civilized man” pique his interest in going on an expedition, his is utterly unprepared given his lack of practical skills (17).

Much like Olenin’s reaction when originally encountering the rugged landscape in The Cossacks, John has only read and dreamed about exotic people and places, which holds him back from understanding the native culture. This is clear from how John describes the native, Orvo, as “incredibly similar to the stylized picture of an Eskimo in the National University Museum in Toronto” (32). This oddly specific description of Orvo underscores John’s prior perceptions of the native culture as something exotic that he would only imagine encountering in a museum. His academic past creates a barrier between his constructed view of the Chukchi and the reality, as he does not have the skills necessary to go out and understand native tribes first hand. Though John eventually realizes that the Chukchi “way of life doesn’t require literacy or books,” he is slow to acknowledge the importance of practical skills like hunting and skinning, which complicates and impedes his embrace of the Chukchi lifestyle (84).

The Cossack Fetish

Much like our modern craze of brands such as North Face and Patagonia, the outdoors and rustic living and adventure is something that is attractive and marketable. Especially to urbanites, rural symbols seem to represent a fantastical status symbol of being organically rooted.

 

The Cossack people and the Caucasus seem to have a similar symbolic value to the characters of Tolstoy’s The Cossacks. Just as people in America once fetishized and wore appropriated symbols of Native American culture to represent a connection to a natural past, and just as people wear outdoor brands today, Olenin on his exodus to the Caucasus similarly fetishizes the Cossack people in a series of daydreams, “All his dreams about the future were connected with images of Amalat-Beks, Circassain maids, Mountains, precipices, fearsome torrents and dangers” (12). Regardless of the dangers of living outside of city walls and moving to a less developed place, Olenin fetishizes the place for the status and brand-like-attributes of the Caucuses, “All of this appeared dimly and vaguely; but, glory, with its allure, and death, with its menace, constituted the interest of that future” (12). Instead of realizing the potential hardships of living rustically and within a different culture, Olenin plays off the branded stereotypes and the mythic fantasies of the land. Olenin does not see the realities of the Cossacks, but the romanticized Taras Bulba like allure to the location.

 

Olenin then begins to have two different fantasies, one of adventure and one way more problematically of a Circassain maid. Olenin sexually fetishizes this woman imagining her as his “slave girl… with submissive eyes… covered in dust, blood and glory” (13). Olenin’s dream of his Circassain maid begins to illuminate the elitism and supremacy he feels towards the Cossack people. Not only does he fetishize her ruralness and imagine her as a savage (with reference to the blood) but further imagines her as someone who he can educate and in a way save, “In the longer winter evenings he began to educate her” (13). Olenin’s fetishized Cossack is not one of their original cultures, but one that he adapts and assimilates.

 

Olenin’s fantasy begins to tell us how Russian urbanites of the time viewed the Caucasus and their culture. Instead of viewing the realities of a less developed (I say this in the sense of infrastructural developed, not culturally) society, they exotified the culture for its seemingly organic rustic way-of-life. If I had more time, I would talk further about the stakes of Olenin fetishizing the Cossack people and specifically more analysis on the daydream of the Circassain maid.

One Man’s Trash is Another Man’s Treasure

A major theme that emerges from the readings this week is the idea of the Russian peripheries as distant lands filled with misunderstood and unappreciated natural purity. Tolstoy’s The Cossacks most strikingly reveals this through Olenin’s journey to the Caucasus mountains and his gradual attitude shift towards life in the empire’s periphery. Olenin’s friends initially question his decision to go to the Caucasus, saying that they themselves “wouldn’t do it for anything,” which reveals the important perspective the city dwellers have on these distant lands (7). While Moscow society is preoccupied with establishing one’s social status and speaking French, the periphery is viewed as undesirable (8). Olenin to some extent still embodies these characteristics at the start of his journey, as upon viewing the mountains for the first time he comments that “he could not find anything attractive in the spectacle of the mountains of which he had read and heard so much” (15). This is in line with Moscow society’s blasé attitude towards the periphery; however, Olenin’s attitude quickly changes the next day when he clearly sees the “enormous, pure white masses with their delicate contours, [as if it were an] apparition” (15-16). This marks a turning point for Olenin, where he starts to reject his city ways and embrace what the periphery has to offer.

Olenin’s embrace of natural purity makes him “quite a different man,” as he turns over a new leaf and adopts the Circassian way of life (48). Through his immersion in the majestic nature of the Caucasus mountains, he is reborn with more vigor than he ever had while living in Moscow (52). Olenin’s transformation critiques Moscow society while at the same time extols the splendor of the empire’s periphery that goes unappreciated by many. The Caucasus mountains serve as a physical, cultural, and societal escape from the Russian interior that Tolstoy brings to light through Olenin’s embrace of the land and its people.

Pushkin’s poem, Farewell to Russia, also touches on the interior peoples’ perspectives of distant Russian lands. What is most surprising by this poem is narrator’s mention of his “exile… beneath the Caucasian skies,” as it highlights how the Russian authority punishing him obviously viewed the Caucasus region as a vile punishment (5-6). The narrator, on the other hand, is greatly pleased to escape the undesirable conditions of the interior, which further emphasizes the varying interior perspectives of the periphery. To conclude, one question I have is whether those in the interior considered the empire’s periphery part of Russia, or more as foreign non-Russian regions?