Leskov researchers have often and justifiably focussed on the influence of Old Russian literature and folklore in his prose. However, 19th century Russian literature is equally essential to his work. Leskov often borrowed plot devices, images, and names from his contemporaries; these aspects of his work, namely his 'intertextuality' and literature-centrism are under-appreciated. This paper demonstrates this aspect of his poetics using his play The Spendthrift, showing that The Spendthirft presents a combination of allusions to 19th century works including A.S. Griboedov's Woe From Wit, N.V. Gogol's The Inspector General, A.N. Ostrovsky's Krechinsky's Wedding and A.V. Sukovo-Kobylin's The Case. Using the terminology of postmodernism, the term "pastiche" may be rightfully applied to Leskov's play. Whereas in postmodern art, pastiche is the result of the author's frustration with everything already having been written, Leskov uses others' texts for polemical purposes with the intention of formulating his own literary position.
Статья о взаимоотношениях двух групп художников (Артели Крамского и Товарищества Передвижников) с Академией Художеств. Акцент сделан на социокультурных аспектах русского искусства второй половины 19 в. – государственной поддержке и влиянию, стремлении к независимости и о методах, которыми пользовались Передвижники их стремлении к коммерциализации оборота произведений искусства.
This article brings the question of late Imperial Russian space into the scene of historical criticism. It does so by examining the spatial problematics of four stories Tolstoy and Chekhov published during the final decades of the nineteenth century. Tolstoy’s “How Much Land Does a Man Need” (1886) and “Kholstomer” (1886) and Chekhov’s “The Man in a Case” (1898) and “Gooseberries” (1898) inscribe into public discourse spatial terms, ethical quandaries, and a range of spatial experiences common during the rapid modernization of imperial Russia. Each author anchors major spatial binaries like city and country and spaciousness and crowding to the question of property, thereby posing a series of related questions to readers. Who will manage the growing space of Russia? How will it be managed? And what could be done if it is not managed well? When placed within the relevant social and historical contexts, I argue, these stories show Tolstoy and Chekhov grappling with the problem of space through both their chosen literary forms and in their lives as landowners.
Рецензия на Viola Lynne Stalinist Perpetrators on Trial: Scenes from the Great Terror in Soviet Ukraine Oxford University Press, 2017
Fedor Danilovich Gnezdilovo was born in 1898 to a poor peasant family in Voronezh province. Long before he became a famous partisan, he joined the counterinsurgency troops fighting the insurrections in Turkestan that began in 1916. During the Civil War he joined the Red Army to fight the Whites in the South, then returned to Central Asia to “liquidate bands” of rebels in the early 1920s. Having finished only a one-class peasant school, he was too illiterate to take advantage of an invitation to study at a party school, he recalled, but after demobilization at the end of 1922 he began work as an executioner for Soviet courts in Central Asia. “Eleven years I shot enemies of the people who were sentenced by our Soviet court,” he proudly told the Academy of Sciences Historical Commission, the socalled Mints Commission, in May 1942.1 By 1929 he had “gone psycho” (zapsikhoval), as he readily admitted in his interview, but was cured after six months in a psychiatric institute. He moved to Moscow and found work in the department of prisons of the NKVD.
The article discusses the corpus of Dmtri Prigov's manifestoes, articles, and programmatic interviews as a manifestation of a coherent theoretical concept. The author of the article argues that Prigov's theoretical ideas are structured in accordance with his own central artistic category-for which, oddly enough, he did not have a common name. The author refers to this category as performativity, although Prigov himself did not use this word, preferring to discuss the behavioral level, operational modes, characters, images (imidzhi), and so on. Performativity, in this interpretation, permeates the totality of an artistic practice, without exception. Texts, paintings, installations, actual performances, and any public utterance-interviews, for example-become "traces" of performative behavior. It is along these lines that one can speak about the performative life of the contemporary author, about the "behavior that is to be found within a non-playful art form, in which the typical type of conventional professional language does not imply (or rather, until the relevant time period, did not imply) the appearance of the creator, who by his presence relativizes the very value, durability, uniqueness, and self-sufficiency of the language of the objects he made." It is from this perspective that the author discusses the overarching meaning of Prigov's oeuvre as the grandiose mockery of societal cultural practices rather than a collection of self-sufficient works. This approach also elucidates Prigov's programmatic self-modeling as the trickster who can only fulfill the performative as the central category of contemporary culture. © 2016 The Russian Review.