Evening star., 1930-11-30


falling skyscrapers," or odes to the revo-
luton filed with obscene blaSphemy and
bloodthirsty propaganda. And in un-
heated Bohemian fats numberless pro-
grams of literary schools" sectS and
clans were frenziedly debated night after
night.
Since the very first days of its exist
ence the Soviet government proclaimed
itself the patron of all arts. Although
bankrupt 1t readily financed with
worthless paper rubles) all literary
schools which accepted the revolution.
It was in this chaos that Soviet litera-
ture was born. Many of the. beginners
of those days are the leading Soviet
writer's whom one now may meet in the
Art Club.
Authors Are Hard Lot.
These precedents largely predeter-
mined the prevailing type of Soviet
writer's. They are a hard-boiled lot.
Not all of them are Communists, but
practically all profess to be sympa-
thizers of the Soviet regime. Few OF
them graduated from universities, but
life has treated them to a thorough
revolutionary education. Indeed, some
of them have had biographies which for
adventurism-both tragical and comical
--surpaSs any adventure novel. Thus,
before having taken up the pen ".
Ivanov, one of the best Soviet short
story writer's, had been a sailor, a
tramp, a circus clown, fakir swallow
ing swords, Red partisan fighting in
Siberia the whites" of Admiral Kol-
chak, and what not.
In the rise of these men to literature
there was something of the rise of bar
barians over the ruins of an old civiliZa-
. ton. Indeed, like barbarian, the
Soviet writer Il am speaking of the
typical Soviet writer is aggressive, op-
tiYniStic and cocksure of himself, of his
youthful power and talent Raised in
Soviet RusSia's isolation from the rest
of the world. he looks at the rotten,
bourgeois" culture of Europe land
America) with high-handed smile of
patroniZing contempt-an attitude which
perhaps is enhanced in him by the feel
ing that, in the bourgeois" sense of the
word, he Is essentially uncultured. The
only thing which he often (but not
necessarily admires in the capitalistic
countries Is the machine age.
Few Of Old School Left.
Thus Vladimir Mayakovsky the most
famous of Soviet poets, sang in his
rowdy, impertinent and often brilliant
verses the triumph OF "Chicagoism'
that is to say, of the happy age when
Russia would out Chicago America in
skyscrapers, and when American mil
honaireS would hang on lamp posts
Withal, speaking in the bonn
bastic parlance Of q Communist critic,
the Soviet writer is "the literary soldier
Of class which is out to conquer"
It is true that one meets in Russia
figures belonging to another epoch, too.
Not all the old writer's fed from the
country. In the streets of LeningTad
one stiu may see the tall, lean and
lonely figure of Anna Akhmatova, Rus
sia's best contemporary woman poet.
She Is stin young, but she walks slow
", aS though with difhculty. She has
q tragedy In the past. Her husband,
N. Gunnilyov, also famous poet. was
shot IN 1921 for counter revolution"
Nor is she the only one: Count
tant relative and. himself an excellent
novelist, fed from Russia In 1919, but
then offered his apologies to the Soviet
government, dropped his. title, was re-
admitted to Russia as a repenttng
emigre and now lives and writes in
Moscow. Yet such splinters of the
past are comparatively few; like the
empire furniture in the Art Club, they
only stress the fact that 1t is the new
man who reigns in Russia's letters as
he reigns in Russias life In general.
Output Is Enormous.
RuSsia's present literary output is
enormous. According to Soviet statis-
ticS-and this is one of the few cases
when these statistics seem to be almost
accurate-nore books are published
yearly in 1t than in any other country
Of the world.
In former years Soviet novels dealt
mostly with civil war, and the amount
Of blood, cruelty and horror contained
IN them was abnormally grea t,almost
sadigtdc. Newer novels usually are de-
voted to the present period Of peaceful
reconstruction. In the sense Of "ethno-
graphical information" Soviet fiction
Is highly interesting. In spite of the
Soviet governments constant attempt
to transform literature into a weapon
Of propaganda, Soviet writers do sue
ceed IN drawing faithful pictures Of
Russiais present life, with its strange
abnormalities. Such new writer's as
B. Pilnyak, w. Ivanov, F.. Gladkov, Mrs.
L. Seyfullina, N. Bogdanov, ETC., are
excellent observers and recorders OF
reality. Some of the American STU
dents" OF Russia would doubtless learn
q great deal If instead Of the per-
functory formality of a six weeks visit
TO Moscow they read the works of these
authors
The Soviet government endlessly ad-
vertises It's cultural achievements, but
the new writer's picture the proletarian
culture of the country as hopeless un-
culturedness. One has the impression
that Russia has been thrown back liter
ally to the Stone Age. No matter what
milieu these writers describe-be 1t peas
ants, workmen or Soviet officials-ex-
treme brutality Of manners, drunken
rows, cruelty and physical and moral
filth remain the prevailing elements OF
their works.
The new relations between the sexes.
In which bolsheviks pride themselves TO
have achieved especially much (the
Liberation of the woman" the protec-
ton Of children, etc., arise from Soviet
novels In particularly dark colors. 1t Is
something like a cattle yard
Is this an accurate picture OF the new
Russia? Apparently, yes. This Is guar
anteed by the Soviet government itself.
It often states that 1t would not permit
writers to caricaturize and calumniate
the Soviet reality"
If, however, Soviet fiction is ethno-
graphically rich, artistically 1t Is very
poor.
Literature Remains Poor.
In the first period of the revolution
when chiefly verses were written dor
prose there was neither paper nor time)
a few outstanding poets came 10 the
limelight. 1t was then that Serge Yes
senin, q peasant by birth, very gifted
man and highly scandalous husband
Of Isadora Duncan, wrote his best poems
on revolution, In which he saw a tre-
mendous peasant revolt. a medieval
Jacuuerie Mayakovsky (the advocate
of "Chicagoism'O rose to his fame also
In these years. The revolutionary poems
which this fellow with the figure of
49,
laughter shouted from platforms were
rather buffoonery than poetry. He