The image of Pushkin’s Tatiana has proved magnetic for scholars of Russian literature and spiritual traditions alike. The article offers a look at Tatiana through the eyes of her contemporaries, visualizing her as an active figure in provincial and St. Petersburg aristocratic circles. Tatiana Larina owes her excellent homeschooled education mostly to her own determination and a knack for self-improvement. She is hardly a humble rustic beauty, nor is she oblivious to contemporary intellectual pursuits. The author proves that Tatiana’s transformation into a brilliant socialite is by no means a mere exaggeration by the poet, but naturally follows from her innate talents nurtured in ‘rural solitude’. The study of Tatiana’s evolution is presented in the context of numerous historical facts.

‘Which way will Russian literature go?’ is the question at the centre of The Tales. It was in the mid-1820s to early 1830s that an argument arose about the popular (genre) stream, which resonated so well with mass audiences. Pushkin creates the persona of Belkin as the collective image of a commercially driven author who utilizes popular subjects of local and foreign origin, much like the writer in A. Pogorelsky’s The Double [Dvoynik]. Having pinpointed the typical features of moral descriptions and transferred them into Belkin’s stories, Pushkin devises various combinations of moral descriptions through depictions of ‘everyday life’, ranging from utter rejection to creative adaptation of the more effective elements of commercial writing. The stories offer three ways for analysis: from the viewpoint of Belkin, who reworks borrowed subjects in the manner of his idol F. Bulgarin; of Pushkin’s Double, who produces the ‘everyday reality’ context; and of Pushkin himself, who weaves those strands together and is responsible for the overall architectonics and subtext of The Tales.

E. Konstantinova interviews R. Senchin, a writer, journalist, shortlisted entry and winner of numerous literary prizes: Russian Booker (2009), National Bestseller (2010), The Culture Prize of the Russian Government (2012), Yasnaya Polyana (2014), The Big Book [Bolshaya Kniga] (2015), and others. They discuss Senchin’s personal creative experiments and discoveries as well as contemporary Russian prose in general. Senchin opines that modern literature, having digested the experiences of the ‘new realism’ of the 1990s–2000s, has moved on to discover writers’ individual characteristics and harness new subjects, including documentary ones. Given the limitations of the forms and methods of artistic literature, Senchin argues, an unexpected choice of topic, language, intonation or plot comes to the forefront. However, he prefers to stick to recognizable, traditional subjects and recurrent characters. The exploration of the motivations and personality of those characters (the writer Savateev and the office clerk Chashchin) takes up most of the interview.

The article paints a literary portrait of the poet B. Nepomnyashchy against the background of Russian Acmeist poetics, defined by its preoccupation with the subject, constant lyrical self-reflection, and the fondness for the genre of a fragment. Particularly important for understanding Nepomnyashchy’s poetry is his connection with I. Annensky: the article centers on their creative dialogue and follows the transformation of Annensky’s reflections of a suffering mind into Nepomnyashchy’s resolute acceptance of fate and clear understanding of one’s poetic vocation. The latter becomes a leitmotif of Nepomnyashchy’s entire work: from his earlier to later poems, he considers his talent as a responsibility, an oracular duty, and faithfulness to God’s truth, hence his exacting approach to himself and his poetry, which he creates with absolute mastery, earning him a place among the most brilliant poets of the 20th c. In her detailed analysis of Nepomnyashchy’s poems in the collection In the Light of the North Star… [Pri svete Polyarnoy…] (1996, 2002), the author recreates a comprehensive idea of his artistic manner as well as the image of the lyrical hero, a resident of the later 20th c.

The analysis is focused on the pragmatics of V. Lenin’s articles ‘Party Organization and Party Literature’ [‘Partiynaya organizatsia i partiynaya literatura’] (1905) and ‘How to Ensure Success of the Constituent Assembly (on freedom of the press)’ [‘Kak obespechit uspekh Uchreditelnogo sobraniya (o svobode pechati)’] (1917). Foreign and Russian scholars alike considered the two works as components of the concept of Socialist state literature and journalism, conceived before the Soviet era. Based on examination of the political context, this work proves that Lenin was driven to write the articles by his fight for leadership in RSDRP. In 1905, Lenin obtained control over Novaya Zhizn, the newspaper under M. Gorky’s editorship, and insisted that opponents had to follow his censorship guidelines: the press had to become a propaganda tool rather than a source of income. Twelve years on, Lenin’s principles still reigned.

T. Smykovskaya writes about a unique episode of Russian literary history: the development of so-called ‘labour-camp literature’, more specifically, lyrical poetry, published in the camps’ newspapers. The article focuses on BAMlag’s principal paper Stroitel BAMa, which saw publications of works by A. Alving, P. Florensky, A. Tsvetaeva, and other detainees. In her examination of the material, which so far has provoked little to no scholarly interest, the author highlights the key themes, images and subjects of labour-camp literature. Essentially, the article attempts to focus on the yet unknown history of the newspaper Stroitel BAMa, the main printed medium of BAMlag, as well as to describe the paper’s artistic and journalistic paradigm, which defined the literary activities of Svobodlag for a decade. Therefore, the article covers the newspaper’s history from the 1933 competition for its name until the emergence of the poetry section in the mid-1930s; from the Stakhanov theme, omnipresent in ‘free’ and labour-camp poetry alike in 1936, until eulogy of the Soviet leaders in pre-war years.

The article discusses the interaction of Y. Smelyakov’s (1913–1972) poetry with mass consciousness and describes the major events of the poet’s biography. Milestones on his literary path have been reconstructed, as has his evolution from a carefree lyrical hero into a confident author. The analysis of Smelyakov’s poetry is supplemented with numerous references to everyday Soviet realia. Especially detailed are descriptions of his debut poems, but the author also takes into account the latest interpretation of the poet’s youthful years in the early 1930s. The context of 1920s–1970s Soviet literature is a pivotal element of the analysis. In particular, the author suggests mutual affinity of Smelyakov’s works with the genre of popular sentimental songs, the works of proletarian poets, and the Sixtiers’ poetry. The article recalls the polemics around Smelyakov’s work, especially in the years before the war in 1941 and in the post-Soviet era. Soviet critics often reproached Smelyakov for excessive lyricism, attention to mundane details, and sentimentalism.

The article is devoted to ekphrasis, its historical and literary evolution, as well as aspects of its stylistic, cultural, and ideological origins. The research is based on the versatile collection of The Theory and History of Ekphrasis [Teoriya i istoriya ekfrasisa], which contains a number of previously little known texts and theories on ekphrasis, developed in regions with different ethnic and cultural characteristics. The author spares no effort in the examination of this monograph and, using the observations made by various scholars, discerns a similar development process of cross-cultural and cross-aesthetic transformations and transpositions, which, however, adopts divergent paths. Transpositions, the author suggests, occur in the model of a text awaiting a pictorial interpretation. The article concentrates on the ways to present an image anticipated in a written word, and to generate a new text, whose subject and content draw not only on poeticized observations of the source material, but also on metapoetic tales about its creators.

Devoted to Andersen, a novel by the Swiss-born writer Charles Lewinsky, the article sets out to interpret the book with a special emphasis on its protagonist, a Gestapo officer, whose image experiences a paradoxical reinvention in our time. In his analysis, the author is not limited to interpretation of the novel’s meanings. The article argues that Lewinsky’s novel explores contemporary cultural-philosophical problems: those of humanity in the postmodern situation. On the subject of the ‘banality of evil’ (using Hanna Arendt’s term), the author points out the severe estrangement of the main character’s consciousness, the existence devoid of life, substituted with insensitive functioning. The paper emphasizes that while the human type described in the novel formally conforms to ‘the Enlightenment project’, it demonstrates an egregious lack of moral self-awareness. The author refers to such a description as typical for a ‘hero of our time’ in the 21st c. and, therefore, problematizes the cultural-philosophical discourses invoked by Lewinsky in his book.

The question of Dostoevsky’s attitude towards Stendhal’s oeuvre remains unanswered. In the absence of direct references, the author suggests searching their works. The novels The Red and the Black and The Adolescent [Podrostok] share in common the issues of a young man’s psychological coming-of-age. Both in their late teens and coming from a peasant background, Julien Sorel and Arkady Dolgoruky are thrown into the alien social milieu of the capital city. Another similarity is the contrast between the immature ideas about life and life as the writer perceives it. In Stendhal’s book, the contrast is depicted as a catastrophic disruption of all social ties, which allows the hero to see the world with new eyes right before his demise. Dostoevsky, on the other hand, shows the process of maturing as a gradual development of new social ties. The comparative analysis of the two novels enables better appreciation of the distinctive character depiction for the two protagonists, and reveals common features that suggest Dostoevsky’s awareness and interpretation of Stendhal’s artistic experiments.

In his article, A. Zholkovsky discusses the contemporary detective mini-series Otlichnitsa [A Straight-A Student], which mentions O. Mandelstam’s poem for children A Galosh [Kalosha]: more than a fleeting mention, this poem prompts the characters and viewers alike to solve the mystery of its authorship. According to the show’s plot, the fact that Mandelstam penned the poem surfaces when one of the female characters confesses her involvement in his arrest. Examining this episode, Zholkovsky seeks structural parallels with the show in V. Aksyonov’s Overstocked Packaging Barrels [Zatovarennaya bochkotara] and even in B. Pasternak’s Doctor Zhivago [Doktor Zhivago]: in each of those, a member of the Soviet intelligentsia who has developed a real fascination with some unique but unattainable object is shocked to realize that the establishment have long enjoyed this exotic object without restrictions. We observe, therefore, a typical solution to the core problem of the Soviet, and more broadly, Russian cultural-political situation: the relationship between the intelligentsia and the state, and the resolution is not a confrontation, but reconciliation.

The Nedzelsky are telling Vera Bunina about Viktor, the son of their mutual friend, the writer A. Fyodorov: how he has just turned up in Kishinev, having escaped from the ‘red’ Odessa. The letters from Leeds Russian Archive offer an insight into Viktor’s life in Romania, as well as clues to decipher V. Kataev’s story Werther Has Already Been Written [Uzhe napisan Verter], inspired by the Fyodorovs’ tragic family history. Another theme is related to V. Nedzelsky’s confession of his secret passion for another woman and his desperate efforts to negotiate humanitarian aid (a Hoover food parcel) to save his starving beloved from death. This information can substantially enrich the biographies of the two remarkable Russian female scientists.

In his review of A. Demchenko’s two-volume academic biography of N. Chernyshevsky, the author dwells on the biographer’s approach to the sources, treated with utmost critical scrutiny. He also discusses the established combination of ideological principles and the evolution of worldview. Chernyshevsky remained a truly democratic thinker throughout his years, and the concept of his democratism is at the core of the biography produced by Demchenko. The book succeeds in creating a multi-faceted perception of Chernyshevsky’s colossal personality, drawing thousands of historical names into its orbit. A. Demchenko meticulously retraces Chernyshevsky’s ‘literary work’: the creative history of What Is to Be Done? [Chto delat?], the works from his Siberian exile, and the lost oeuvre (e. g. the novel The Sower [Seyatel]) as well as Chernyshevsky’s post-Siberian attempt to re-enter big literature and journalism.

The book compiled by A. Urmanov offers a short description of Fyodor Chudakov’s life and works – his name has only recently entered Russian literature. The review discusses the story and composition of the new book, which features unique pieces by this still largely obscure writer who was active in the early 20th c. The book deals with Chudakov’s feuilletons in its first and larger part: the author emerges as an uncannily sharp-tongued satirist. Other chapters reveal his skill as a sensitive lyrical poet, talented prose writer and dramatist. Among the undisputed merits of the book is its thorough scholarly commentary. A. Urmanov treats each work with unwavering attention, supplying them with a historical context and pinpointing the originality of the works’ poetics and features specifically to a particular period in Chudakov’s life.

With its in-depth knowledge and extensive use of archived and printed material, this book can offer a good learning experience for writers in the same genre: the biography of the Petersburgbased philologist, literary historian, translator, editor, and Professor A. Smirnov (1883–1962) is presented in the context of 20th-c. Russian cultural and literary life. The chapters follow a chronological order and are connected by permeating themes of human and academic relationships: with A. Veselovsky, V. Zhirmunsky, and others. The Shakespearean topic is particularly important in the book: Smirnov personally edited nearly all translations of the Bard’s works appearing in the 1930s–1950s. The biography paints a clear picture of the period and explains why Smirnov never got to write his magnum opus on Shakespeare, despite him having all it took to achieve this, being by nature and training, his philosophy and cultural mentality one of the more consummate ‘Europeans’ among Russian scholars.

Second in the anthology, the volume offers a rich collection of materials, including descriptions of 1900s–1930s Spain by Russian travellers. Artists, musicians, journalists and people of the theatre, all of them share their expectations, recollections and impressions from visits to this Southern country. A poeticized image clashes with reality, which often stands in stark contrast to the idyllic picture. Spain beckons, mesmerizes, and reveals its luxurious self. The country is wrought with controversy: the archaic lifestyle in the provinces and the dizzying pace of life in big cities; its amiable, but very apathetic people; its glorious past and almost desperate present. Russians travel to Spain to experience its natural beauty and splendid cultural heritage. Many of them revelled in visiting the Prado Museum. Numerous performers would come to Spain to tour, spreading knowledge of Russian music, ballet and drama among local audiences.

The review of S. Shargunov’s Kataev. In Pursuit of Eternal Spring [Kataev. V pogone za vechnoy vesnoy], opens with a description of the book’s history and structure. The reviewer specifies the biographer’s take on its hero and traces their spiritual and creative similarities in an attempt to explain why S. Shargunov chooses to depict V. Kataev as a ‘first-rate’ and unjustly forgotten writer. The review also takes a look at the biographer’s style and assessment of the turning points in Kataev’s life and legacy. The book covers the writer’s role in the development of the Odessa school of writing in the 1910s–1920s, the young writers’ group centered around Kataev-managed journal Yunost in the 1960s, and the novel My Diamond Crown [Almazniy moy venets], which, published in 1978, provoked a serious debate. In the conclusion, author enumerates the discoveries made by the biographer, and notes the researcher’s interest in history perceived through people.