The article discovers an allusion to Goethe’s Werther in Goncharov’s The Precipice [Obryv] and explains its role in the novel. The author notices how the book’s leading male characters — Boris Raysky, Mark Volokhov, and Tit Nikonych Vatutin — exhibit the intertextual markers. The triple allusion to Goethe’s protagonist is examined as a key to understanding the novelist’s aesthetic testimony of the diversity of the forms of life, which calls for adequate, i. e., flexible, artistic representation. The author proposes and goes on to justify a hypothesis that The Precipice should be treated as a juxtaposition of two novelistic models. The article uncovers the supposed discrepancy between Goncharov’s own artistic method and the one perceived through his character Boris Raysky’s literary experiments. While Goncharov abandons the linear and monolithic nature of artistic structures, Raysky (if only subconsciously at times) prefers his characters and plots to be well-rounded and complete. The scholar finds that, through an ingenious use of the complex structure of a novel-within-a-novel, Goncharov on behalf of his hero invokes the classical paradigm of the 1800s — 1850s novel, only to deconstruct it in his own work.

The article considers the spiritual, moral, and poetic influence of A. Blok’s (himself enlisted during the First World War) patriotic poetic traditions on ‘lieutenant prose’ writers, who fought in the trenches of the Great Patriotic War in the lowly ranks of privates and junior officers. The author argues that it was to Blok that ‘lieutenant prose’ writers turned for a frame of reference to comprehend the situation and provide a universal standpoint — as, for example, in Blok’s poems ‘On the field of Kulikovo’ [‘Na pole Kulikovom’], ‘The Commander’s steps’ [‘Shagi komandora’], or ‘Those born in times of the decay…’ [‘Rozhdyonnye v goda glukhie…’]. That Blok’s poetry was relevant to them was confirmed by several ‘lieutenant prose’ authors, including B. Vasiliev, V. Nekrasov, and V. Tendryakov (whose entire short story ‘Donna Anna’ is constructed on the reminiscence of a Blok’s poem). According to Perevalova, Blok’s relevance to the aforementioned writers stems from the fact that, describing war, he never preached violence or the art of extermination but appealed instead to the eternal existential questions and values.

The article is devoted to the life and works of Ivan Pulkin (1903–1941) — a poet who had not seen his books published before going missing in action during the Battle of Moscow. Following the suit of I. Akhmetiev, who has gathered, published and commented on a collection of the forgotten poet’s works, the authors are in fact discovering a new poet, whose work was strongly defined by the artistic and philosophical experimentation and literary daily life of the 1920s — 1930s: the first and foremost reason being that the genre diversity of Pulkin’s poetry stems from the period’s stylistic jumble, characterised by enormous linguistic potential. Therefore, the article focuses on the poetics of his verses — their unique genre-specific and linguistic features and imagery. In their analysis of Pulkin’s poems, the authors argue that, despite its eclectic nature and ambitious thematic range, his poetry emerges as an organic whole. Pulkin’s entire oeuvre is shaped by his ultimate goal which defines his poetics in general.

The paper offers an extended review of the book High and Codependency. Recovered Sobriety and Literature [Kumar dolbyashchiy i sozavisimost. Trezvenie i literatura] (2021) by the modern poet and critic M. Kudimova, pointing out and discussing the most problematic theses found in this collection of critical reviews and essays: in particular, the topics of the ethnic component of Russian literature, literary oblivion, and the patronage of writers by the authorities and critics, etc. Zubareva suggests and successfully proves that the scope of Kudimova’s book goes beyond a philological study. The problems of literary studies overlap with contemporary issues of Russian culture which is predominantly literature-centric. Kudimova is drawn to controversial images and characters — P. Ershov, A. Kryzhanovsky, and V. Vysotsky; analysing her philological and critical essays, Zubareva discovers that the collection follows in the footsteps of the best literary critical and journalistic traditions of the Pushkin era and stimulates the mind as well as emotions, encouraging the reader to view the 19th- and 20th-c. Russian literature as part and parcel of our daily life.

The article discusses representations of a hybrid body in the novel A Clockwork Orange and its film adaptation by S. Kubrick. Both works examine a hybrid body as a symptom of the post-human state. The article proves that in his film, Kubrick makes use of the novel’s imagery and, rather than creating a radically different work, is engaged in interpretation of the source. The eloquent orange metaphor, chosen by Burgess for the book’s title, directly points to the literary theme at the heart of the novel: youth as a restless and lawless time. In the novel, these ideas are supported with Shakespeare and Yeats quotations. That the writer should have turned to the theme of youth is explained as his response to the youth subculture of the late 1950s — early 1960s which was associated with asocial experience. The quotation from Yeats still enjoys prominence in Kubrick’s film, which, however, was made at a later date when youth culture had already received plenty of self-reflective feedback and definitions. This may partly explain the differences in the approach to the representation of a hybrid body in the book vs. the film. The article defines the central theme that prompts the choice of the representation method: an artist that embodies the power of youth and creativity

In various publications on the history of the first Soviet academic Shakespeare (1936–1949) there flashed bits of information that Mikhail Kuzmin’s translation of the Sonnets was coming. He must have made considerable progress because by 1932 more than half of the job was rumoured to have been done. After Kuzmin’s death in 1936 and a pause in the work on the edition during the war years, his translations were lost, and for the final volume (1949) S. Marshak had translated the whole sequence. Recently 89 sonnets translated by Kuzmin have been found in a private collection. Now we publish Sonnets 75–86, a group known as connected with the ‘rival poet.’ In the preface to the publication, Kuzmin’s work is being analysed. Though unfinished and unedited (the process of editing translations in the academic collected works of Shakespeare was famous for its expert and hypercritical attention), Kuzmin’s translation presents the process of a stylistic search with its evident losses alongside the achievements that even 90 years since might claim to be among the best Shakespeare’s sonnets in Russian.

The article prefaces the publication of chapter 8 (Is This a Holiday?) from J. Shapiro’s book on W. Shakespeare and examines the architecture of the intellectual docu-novel which carefully reconstructs a period in the English playwright’s life and work and shows how the social and political developments of the Elizabethan era as well as specific facts of the Bard’s biography found their way into Shakespeare’s plays dated 1599. Drawing on documentary evidence, Shapiro pieces together the events of the year that marked a turning point in Shakespeare’s work. In terms of its genre, the book follows the traditions of W. Scott’s historical novels. The author succeeds in rendering the spirit of the daily life in a 16th-c. London, and discusses, along with Shakespeare’s plays, the city’s news and gossip, sermons and pamphlets, as well as curious incidents at the court theatre, etc. On the whole, Shapiro paints a portrait of a playwright who shuns debauched London pastimes.

The superstars of the golden age of the 20th-c. Russian artistic translation also happened to be the last representatives of the Russian Silver Age. Their students finalised the principles of the school that managed to overcome the centuries-old conflict between ‘word-for-word’ and ‘idea-for-idea’ translation, i. e., between ‘philologists’ and ‘poets.’ This was achieved through the synthesis of the two seemingly mutually exclusive trends, as championed by Gumilyov in his poetic manifesto claiming that a poetic translation can only be undertaken by a poet who strives to preserve all of the original’s main characteristics. Under the ever-growing pressure of censorship, these poets were forced to concentrate on artistic translation. Their combined creative, aesthetic and poetic energy transformed into translation energy while retaining the merits and potential of the original.

The article is concerned with the first Russian translation of Charles Kingsley’s (1819–1875) The Water Babies (1863), one of the most controversial children’s books written by a British author: rich in allusions and quotations and disguised as a fairy tale, it features a powerful social commentary and a stinging satire of the Victorian society. On the back of the popularity of British children’s books, the novel was translated and published in 1874 — the second major work by C. Kingsley (who had been generously promoted by A. Kraevsky on the pages of Otechestvennye Zapiski) to have been printed in Russia, and the first ever translation of The Water Babies. The book, under the Russian title of The Adventures of Fomushka, the Chimney-Sweep, above Ground and under Water [Priklyucheniya Fomushki-trubochista na zemle i pod vodoyu], was lavishly illustrated, boasted a large print run and was extensively advertised in periodicals; yet it proved to be a failure. Its publication undermined Kingsley’s popularity in Russia and allowed ‘pochvennichestvo’- leaning reviewers to question the value of English children’s literature in general. 

The ending. Continued from Voprosy Literatury (2022, 2).

The publication features a commented translation (the ending) of the brochure La Russie Envahie par les Allemands, authored by Filipp Vigel (Weigel), a former member of the Arzamas Society. Printed anonymously, it became a sensation in Russia and Europe alike. Giving the formal reason of responding to A. de Custine’s La Russie en 1839, Vigel’s brochure served as the first manifesto and the first attempt at a historical-philosophical justification of the anti-German sentiment espoused by members of the Russian elite during the reign of Nicholas I. In his overview spanning the early epochs and the contemporary period, Vigel describes Russia’s whole history in terms of the gradual subjugation by Germans (in particular, Baltic Germans) and their growing representation among the ruling elite. The same viewpoint is applied to the analysis of Russian literature, especially Pushkin, who is depicted as an opponent and eventually a victim of the German party. In the conclusion of his work, Vigel shares his thoughts on contemporary Germany and Pan-Slavism.

The reader is offered an extensive overview of the 10th- to 20th-c. Spanish and Latin American literature. The book considers not only preeminent authors like Cervantes, Lope de Vega, Márquez, and Cortázar, but also those known only to scholars — like R. Llull, J. de Espronceda, and J. Valera. Thanks to the author’s impressive cultural erudition, the book demonstrates the numerous comparative connections of Spanish-speaking writers with world literature. Thus, without Cervantes’ Don Quixote, neither Dostoevsky, nor Cortázar, nor Márquez would have written their novels. A Russian reader will be especially interested in Russo-Spanish connections, as their study is also included in the scope of Bagno’s research. In this regard, particularly interesting is the analysis of Lope de Vega’s play about False Dmitry I El Gran Duque de Moscovia. Another exciting topic discussed in the book is the story of Spaniards who developed strong ties to Russia, like Odessa’s founder J. de Ribas and the Spanish ambassador in the 19th-c. Petersburg J. Valera.

The review is concerned with the posthumous collection of Sebald’s hitherto unpublished works: prose pieces about Corsica, initial draft   of his publications in periodicals, speech transcripts, and handwritten notes. The main themes are oblivion and memory, a personal relationship with the past, and the ways of fighting non-existence. Sebald addresses the most poignant issues and heart-wrenching traumas, while his stylistic mastery ensures a bitter and sobering but at the same time very enjoyable kind of reading. Sebald’s rational and crystal-clear rgumentation is irresistible. His style may vary depending on the type of writing (prose — scholarly papers — essays), but every piece is perceived as an outcome of his personal suffering. What prompted each of the works in this collection devoted to conquering time and decay through writing was the struggle against oblivion. Only what has been said or written may escape disintegration. Memory alone offers a chance to overcome alienation.

A. Sukhovo-Kobylin’s life and work are yet to be explored; to this day, no scholarly biography or complete collection of his works have been published. According to the authors of the illustrated catalogue that details the inventory of the State Literary Museum, once subjected to professional analysis, the listed museum objects and archival items may provide a reliable source of information about the celebrated Russian playwright. A genuine museum object possesses a unique power to verify researchers’ concepts. Sukhovo-Kobylin comes from a family rich in literary talent (Evgenia Tur, Evgeny Salias, and Evdokia Tur). Each of the writers had connections to a number of Russian literary doyens. These connections are traced and detailed in private correspondence and other equally exciting sources. Inconsistency of the material resulted in the catalogue’s division into several parts — each, however, emphasising Sukhovo-Kobylin’s role in the history of Russian literature.

In her monograph, M. Voskresenskaya attempts to examine the Russian Silver Age as a historian and a scholar of culture. That perspective is made clear by the book’s title: it points to a sociocultural dimension, so, instead of analysing specific works created during the aforementioned period, she focuses on the society that provided the context for certain cultural and artistic processes. The author undertakes a sociocultural study of the environment in which works emerged that are so famous today, and devotes a whole chapter to the philosophy espoused by the cultural elite. Voskresenskaya also tackles the political agenda — starting with a characteristic of the search for ways to reform the world, she moves on to describe the choice made by the period’s artists, poets and writers to take part or refuse participation in the war and the revolution, and their perception of these two events. Employing the methods of cultural history studies, Voskresenskaya is painting a group portrait of the cultural icons of the Russian Silver Age.

The review sets out to critically examine the book by M. Babicheva and single out its defining characteristics. Printed in the Book Universe [‘Knizhnaya vselennaya’] series, the collection in question consists of biobibliographical essays on the works penned by writers of the second-wave Russian emigration. The book is divided into seventeen chapters devoted to the life and work of such authors as V. Alekseev, G. Andreev, G. Klimov, F. Kubansky, S. Maksimov, N. Narokov, L. RzhevskyV. Samarin, V. Sven, M. Solovyov, N. Troitsky, Ulyanov, T. Fesenko, B. Shiryaev, V. Yurasov et al. Each essay summarises the author’s biography and supplies a bibliography listing the émigré’s works of fiction, journalistic and critical output, as well as literature dedicated to their life and work. The book helps to complete the dismal portrayal of the 20th-c. history, particularly World War II and Stalinist repressions, the two major causes of the second wave of Russian emigration.

The book’s three parts feature studies, publications and supplements which include contents descriptions of the newspaper Nov, the journal Bogema, and archival materials connected with the newspaper Russkoe Slovo. It is for the first time that a co-authored monograph has brought together authors united by their study of the fundamental question about the role of fiction in the shaping of the Russian cultural and social landscape ahead of the calamity that was revolution. The book discusses the following topics: the balance between fiction and journalism, the journal context and the methods of its study, the interconnectedness of artistic texts against the background of journalistic output, the perception of literature and its various modifications in central Russia and the country’s periphery, the literary trends that emerged at the turn of the century and their influence on the contents and aesthetic programs of periodicals, and journalists as fictional characters.