Found among the principal subjects of contemporary discursive practice is the persistent metaconflict between a ‘fossilized' ethnopsychology embodied in tradition, and a universalistic spirit of the informational and electronic era. Tradition's primordial characteristic reduces it to an ethnic-protective mentality, but excessive ethnicization supplants the renewal function of tradition as a spiritual resource. A non-archival meaning of tradition, considered in time and dynamics, suggests, along with household ethnography, the willingness and ability to adapt to modernity. The latter tends to promote breaking with tradition as the best stimulant of reforms.

The conflict-inducing nature of the problem results from tradition needing a creative renewal in order to stay as it is, but from the standpoint of modernity it is mainly summed up as falling from temporality, and, consequently, an etymological family, thus turning into an anachronism out of use. The choice of the two canonical as well as the three recently produced works was directed by their focus on the eternal dilemma of ‘tradition vs. novelty.'

The article deals with the process of C. Aytmatov's transition from writing in Kyrghyz to translating his works from Kyrghyz into Russian and to writing directly in Russian. His autotranslations, attempted solo as well as in cooperation with the professional translator A. Dmitrieva, were only a logical next step. Aytmatov eventually chose a creative method that enables building of a unique artistic world by incorporating ethnic realia. The writer repeatedly referred to Russian as his second native language. He mastered a way to talk about an ethnic-specific world using a language of interethnic communication: this role was played by the Russian language in the USSR at the time. Such an approach, in a way, became a generator of Aytmatov's creations - his original universe, recognized and highly appreciated by Soviet readers and foreign audiences alike.

The article considers the legacy of the Smolensk poetic school (1930s) and its influence on the contemporary regional poetic landscape and individual auctorial strategies. The term was coined in the 1960s by the critic A. Makedonov, who numbered M. Isakovsky, A. Tvardovsky, N. Rylenkov, and others among members of the Smolensk poetic school on the basis of their adherence to the unifying principles of ‘new preciseness,' ‘democratization of the ideal,' the pathos of generalization and the ‘pathos of a precise address,' a new type of lyricism, and the influence of the folklore and Nekrasov's poetry. It is interesting to consider today's effects of the school's existence: despite the fact that modern Smolensk-based poets are living almost a century after the school's emergence, a number of its principles remain attractive or, on the contrary, provoke their rejection, for example, by members of the literary studio ‘Persona'. According to the critic, this studio not only keeps the tradition going and helps young poets with self-identification, but also registers the main development vectors of young poets in Smolensk.

In her article, E. Shcheglova remembers the recently deceased author V. Mikheev: sadly, he was largely ignored by critics. Short stories constitute the biggest part of his oeuvre; it is as a master of the smaller form that Mikheev makes a lasting impression. His stories are typified by unobtrusive psychologism, sympathy, and convincing and detailed plots. The main topics of his stories are life and love in the Russian provinces (especially love between mature people, often viewed as failures by those around them), as well as parting with the Soviet era, embodied by such recognizable symbols as N. Ostrovsky's Pavka Korchagin. As Shcheglova points out, a man in Mikheev's works is in permanent search of self, be it in politics, family, art or literature, or even in East-Asian Buddhist philosophy. The same search is depicted in Mikheev's unfinished novel, although the critic argues that the ‘medium of the novel' does not agree with the writer: the readers are likely to remember him as an author of short lyrical prose rather than a novelist. In any case, we are looking at another important Russian writer of the early 21st c.

The article discusses an author who became popular in the 2000s, Max Frei (a nom de plume of the writer Svetlana Martynchik), and his fantastical cycle entitled The Labyrinths of Echo [Labirinty Ekho]. The critic analyzes its plot and poetics and demonstrates that the whole Echo cycle is characterized by the motif of ‘unrealized literature.' It is about the ‘unrealized Russian literature' that the author keeps talking about in interviews, too. Following the pattern that cements the reality of Frei's artistic universe, the writer created all conditions for the realization of her own mythologeme. It became the background for the FRAM project, an extratextually realized metaphor of expanding the borders of Russian literature. Having secured the support of the Amfora publishers and relying on the authority amassed by Max Frei, Martynchik went on to publish collections of contemporary prose for a decade, printing works written in the Russian language regardless of their country of origin, genres, or topics, thus realizing the ‘unfulfilled opportunities' of Russian literature.

The article is devoted to the analysis of fiction and documentary prose of A. Ganieva and her personality as perceived by critics and readers. Following her entry into contemporary literary world on the back of a mystification (her first novel about the Caucasus, Salam to You, Dalgat! [Salam tebe, Dalgat!], was printed under a male pseudonym), and revealed to be a recognized author of ‘Dagestani prose,' Ganieva decided to break with the image of a writer of a single theme and set out to explore the modern realia of Russia as a whole (the topic of her 2018 novel Hurt Feelings [Oskorblyonnye chuvstva]). Similarly, the problem of time and various strategies adopted by people living and working in complicated and often hostile circumstances form the theme of Ganieva's biography of Lilya Brik. The critic concludes that both Ganieva's fiction and non-fiction writings have a feeling of a journalist-like detachment. Her typical protagonist fails to catch up with the changing reality, while cultural memory is cut unexpectedly short; the writer makes the point of showing a patchwork of the eternal and the temporary.

E. Pogorelaya's interview with the author, essayist and critic A. Ganieva discusses Ganieva's own work, as well as the general situation with contemporary culture. They talk about literature produced by a generation of writers in their thirties, the modern principles of literary criticism, contemporary performance art, and Ganieva's documentary novel about Lilya Brik which provoked torrents of enthusiastic as well incensed critical reviews. Contemplating the reason why she finds her heroine attractive, Ganieva says that Brik constitutes an undisputed fact in the history of Russian Avant- garde. But what appeals to Ganieva the most is Lilya Brik's taste for life, at all times, at any age, which she considers a rare gift. At the same time, Ganieva is far from idealizing Lilya Brik and carefully notes any potential overlaps between the modern era of performance and the early 20th c., which provides the background for the life of ‘her Lilexcellency' in the aforementioned biography.

The essay by E. Konstantinova draws on memories of her interview with Boris Zakhoder from long ago, as well as a meeting with his widow Galina Zakhoder, who introduced her to the writer's house in Komarovka, his favourite belongings and drafts. The main ‘hero' of her essay is Zakhoder's desk, to this day inhabited and surrounded by recognizable characters of his poems for children. It was at this desk that Boris Zakhoder created the Russian retellings of the classical English stories Mary Poppins and Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, and polished the draft of Peter Pan, started somewhat earlier. In 1996, it was at this desk that, at the age of 87, he was reading proofs of his first collection of poems for adults, Almost Posthumous [Pochti posmertnoe]. He was preparing a collection entitled Zakhodare [Zakhoderzosti] (published by Vek 2 in 1997), where he put together all that was ‘especially dear to him and would be great to finally see published in a book.' Konstantinova's essay is a vivid reminder about the writer who was the first to help characters of English children's books learn to speak Russian.

The article argues in favour of bringing back the original full title of Gogol's epic poem in prose, namely The Adventures/Wanderings of Chichikov, or Dead Souls [Pokhozhdeniya Chichikova, ili Myortvye dushi]. Once reduced, the title emphasizes stagnancy and rigidity, but loses what is essential for the novel's plot: the potential eidos of movement, road, and wandering. The scholar examines the semantics of the cover of the separate edition of Dead Souls and its connection with the full name of this Gogol masterpiece. Compared in the new context are the book's beginning and ending, with a new interpretation offered for ‘the bird-troika' as well as for the wheel: it is shown how the latter represents a sacred circle prototype in addition to familiar secular connotations. The author follows the poem's paraphrastic context which connects it with Dante's Divina Commedia and is not limited to motifs, reminiscences, and identic plotlines, but highlights the general Christian meaning of the paschal conclusion of a mortal life, interpreted differently by the Catholic and Eastern Orthodox cultural traditions, represented by Dante and Gogol, respectively.

The article offers a comparative analysis of modern literature in France and Russia and examines the oeuvres of master prose writers who achieved recognition in their native country and abroad in the late 20th - early 21st cc. The authors come to the conclusion about a close affinity between Russian and French literature in terms of form and experimentation with new means of artistic expressiveness; the two appear particularly related typologically in their attitude towards literature that transcends classical traditions, i. e. towards Postmodernist writers. The authors find, however, that the two literatures differ in their preferred themes. Thus, modern French writers seem to be drawn to perennial existential problems, while their Russian counterparts prefer specific historical topics, often from the recent past. The aforementioned differences could be explained by the fact that the two nations' historical memories were shaped by principally different socio-political and cultural circumstances.

The article deals with the problem of the ‘animal-man' in prose by V. Shalamov. Life in a prison camp obliterates the boundary between intelligent human nature and the animalistic one. A man becomes a slave to his own body, his mind only preoccupied with physiological needs: food, sex, urination, and defecation. Shalamov views such a situation as tragic, yet leaves it up to the character to overcome the forced primacy of corporality. The article also compares Shalamov's approach to the problem with that of A. Platonov. Both writers portrayed oppression of thought in a totalitarian state. The beastlike quality of their characters is another common feature in Platonov's and Shalamov's work. Yet Platonov's use of anthropozoologism has various connotations, whereas in Shalamov's view, animality in a human being is always a tragedy. Platonov proclaims independence of mind from the body and the immortal nature of consciousness. Shalamov's philosophy is far more materialistic. However, both writers fought for the ‘rule of reason' and revealed their struggles in their books.

The article analyzes A. Solzhenitsyn's little known play The Light Which Is in Thee [Svet, kotoriy v tebe] (The Candle in the Wind [Svecha na vetru]), conceived and written in 1960. The play is a concentration of the most important ideas further developed in the writer's subsequent output. Other works are considered with regard to the play: The Gulag Archipelago [Arkhipelag Gulag], The Oak and the Calf [Bodalsya telyonok s dubom], Matryona's House [Matryonin dvor], Nastenka, One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich [Odin den Ivana Denisovicha], and A Letter to the Soviet Leaders [Pismo vozhdyam Sovetskogo Soyuza]. The article attempts to identify typical traits of Solzhenitsyn's thinking and style as revealed in the works created after The Light Which Is in Thee. The author finds that the play serves as a warning because it depicts an imaginary country that resembles today's Russia. The play raises contemporary global issues: the development of science and a machine civilization that is unrestrained by morality, the primacy of the material over the spiritual, and the degradation of society, whose main goal is to achieve the maximum of material wealth.

The question of whether Grand Duke Alexander Pavlovich was aware of or involved in the conspiracy against his father remains today as highly polemic as it was in the 19th c. The author claims that research into the reputational culture of the imperial court could change the status quo. The mock tragedy Podshchipa [or Trumf], penned by a young Ivan Krylov for the family of his benefactors, who had been banished from the capital by the Emperor, is a curious reflection on the real social capital of Paul I's heirs - Alexander and his spouse Elisabeth - and is devoted to the overthrow of the antihero Trumf, traditionally believed to represent Paul himself.

A comparison between Krylov's characters and contemporary narratives like personal letters, diaries, and political pamphlets reveals an insider view of an impending political crisis, as witnessed by a Russian person in 1800.

How can a teacher make seemingly anachronistic literary polemics sound interesting to a modern student? The article offers an example of making an age-old dispute about the reasons of social hardships in Russia sound relevant. In June 1847, V. Belinsky penned his embittered and passionate missive to N. Gogol, full of fierce criticism of the latter's book Selected Passages from Correspondence with Friends [Vybrannye mesta iz perepiski s druziami]. Belinsky was convinced that the blame should fall on the despotic authorities and defective public and social institutions which restrict people's freedom and leave them morally debilitated; therefore, reforms must begin with an overthrow of the regime. Gogol was gazing inwards and decided that everybody had themselves to blame and should feel personally responsible. Who of the two was right? Were their opinions so irreconcilable? Gogol admitted that there was some truth in Belinsky's scolding, citing his disconnect due to living abroad, whereas Belinsky, insulted from the very first pages by what he called ‘obscurantism and bigotry,' may have overlooked or misinterpreted something, hot-tempered as he was.

V. Milchina responds to L. Katsis's polemic article ‘On one ‘coterie' and its close-minded selectivity' published in Voprosy Literatury (2020, No. 3). Katsis attacked the closed-system quality of the ‘circle' of literary scholars close to Milchina, claiming they tend to ignore discoveries made by outsiders (hence the detailed analysis of the misidentification of N. Nabokov with his more celebrated cousin the writer V. Nabokov and criticism of Chronicles of Post-Soviet Humanities [Khroniki postsovetskoy gumanitarnoy nauki], a book prepared by Milchina). In her attempt to disprove Katsis's arguments, Milchina points out that the aforementioned ‘coterie' includes more than a hundred and fifty scholars, hardly a definition of ‘a select few.' As for the error found by Katsis in D. Zubarev's paper included in the Chronicles, Milchina suggests that pointing out mistakes should be used to establish accurate facts rather than excoriate the community.

The essay sets out to interpret T. Williams's famous play A Streetcar Named Desire (1947) from the viewpoint of the characters' psychology as well as the eternal conflict between America's two fundamental civilizational elements - the vanishing and sophisticated culture of the South and the victorious and pragmatic culture of the North. In her detailed analysis of the plot and the symbolic structure of the play, as well as the psychology of the characters, the author finds that A Streetcar Named Desire incorporates a lot of the playwright's ideas inspired by the philosophy of F. Nietzsche, in particular, the latter's teaching of the Ubermensch. It is in this light that Remizova proposes to interpret the play's protagonist Stanley Kowalski - not only as the embodiment of ‘superhuman' traits, but also a metaphoric actualization of the same ontological ‘will,' which, according to Nietzsche, is life itself. Remizova believes that the conflict between Stanley Kowalski and Blanche DuBois represents the antagonism between personified life and death, respectively, and that the play's ending, with life defeating death, resonates perfectly with the post-war era (1940s).

The article uncovers and details new and known facts about the life and work of Vladimir Shuf (1865-1913), a Russian poet, writer and journalist active in the 19th - early 20th cc. Information from the questionnaire filled out by the poet in March 1905 is published for the first time. The researcher puts an end to the confusion about Shuf's date of birth and shows it to be the 22nd of January, 1865 (old style). The questionnaire contains a number of precise biographical facts about Shuf: his becoming infected with tuberculosis, which marked the poet's future; the work at the newspaper Novoe Vremya; his travels in France, Germany, Egypt, and Palestine; a list of principal works, as selected by the author, as well as a list of periodicals that published his output. The document also serves as a sort of psychological photograph of Shuf's personality: it shows a writer of a versatile talent, who had his work published by leading periodicals of pre-revolutionary Russia, loved the Crimea and the Orient, took a lot of pride in his family and his trade as a poet, and travelled extensively.

Contemporary Western scholars of translation are increasingly focusing on the roles of translators in the dynamics of literary contacts. Particularly interesting are the personalities of translators who have been ignored by literary historiography. Among those translators is the team of Alexander and Clara Brauner. Emigrants from the Russian Empire, this married couple devoted themselves to popularization of Russian literature in Austria and Germany in the late 19th - early 20th cc. The author points out that a number of Clara Brauner's translations failed to appeal to publishers and are only preserved to this day as rare copies in libraries or antiquarian book collections. At the same time, her other translations were reprinted many times in West and East Germany, Austria and Switzerland after World War II, although the memory of the translator would be lost for decades. Using materials from archives and Austrian journals and newspapers of the period, the article offers a first biography of the translators in the Russian language, detailing their life and work, as well as literary networks and projects in the context of the Austrian- German-Russian literary field.

The review offers an in-depth look at the new monograph by the renowned Slavicist and translator Alessandro Niero, describing its structure, the historical principle of organizing the material, and the combination of theory and detailed examples from translation practice. In his attempt to create a history of translations of Russian poetry in Italy, Niero begins by examining translations of A. Pushkin's poem Eugene Onegin and concludes with examples from translations of D. Prigov's poetry. At the same time, the monograph dwells on talented translators of Russian poetry, such as Ettore Lo Gatto, Renato Poggioli, Angelo Maria Ripellino, and Giovanni Buttafava, and provides a summary of the modern state of translation and perception of Russian poetry in Italy. The monograph will be particularly interesting to specialists in translation, scholars of poetry, historians of Russian poetry and its reception abroad.

The review examines the Russian translation of the third collection of critical essays by the Nobel Prize winner J. M. Coetzee. The forming of Coetzee's literary-critical canon is suggested to have roots in his approach to world culture, free of the arrogance of an imperial view or the inferiority complex of a ‘cultural back¬water.' Common points between Coetzee's literary criticism and fiction include, firstly, attention to the core mechanisms of human psyche, which inevitably reveal a kind of transcendental dimension, and, secondly, the drive to revise the boundaries of the known literary universe. At the same time, the reviewed translation of Coetzee's essays is at times incoherent and shows an inexplicable disregard for an accurate use of relevant terminology. The translation suffers from stylistic flaws, terminology blunders and quasi-scholarly definitions, which devalue Coetzee's contribution to the Russian discourse of literary studies.

This review of the book of E. Livshits's reminiscences, diaries and letters considers her life story to be typical for the tragic 20th c. and dwells on the relevance of her memoirs for Russian literary history of the period. Ekaterina Livshits was married to Benedikt Lifshits, a famous poet, translator, and a friend of Osip Mandelstam's. B. Livshits was executed by Stalin's regime, and Ekaterina Livshits herself suffered political repression. Liberated from prison, she fought for many years to get her late husband's poems and memoirs published. His book of memoirs The One and a Half-Eyed Archer [Polutoraglaziy strelets] is one of the most important chronicles of the Russian Silver Age. E. Livshits managed to preserve B. Livshits's poems and memoirs and spared no effort in ensuring their publication. The review also mentions the work undertaken by P. Nerler, who compiled the book, and discusses the book's advantages and failings.

The polemical review of the com-ment to T. Kibirov's long poem Through the Tears of Farewell [Skvoz proshchal- nye slyozy] (1987) deals with the problem of accelerated and evident loss of relevance by many fairly recent literary works, whose relative value is in the accumulation of an excessive number of socio-cultural realia that are rapidly becoming obsolete. At the same time, any universal aesthetic statement is often absent from such works. The first part of the review is devoted to advocating the genre of the commentary as such in the current historical-literary situation. The second part is concerned with the main traits of Kibirov's poetics and the poem's aesthetic characteristics. The third part examines the general problem of commenting on literary works that have close ties with the period of their creation, but are lacking the necessary artistic potential in order to be integrated into the contemporary cultural context.