D.P. Svyatopolk-Mirsky

HISTORY OF RUSSIAN LITERATURE

from ancient times to 1925

Dmitry Petrovich Svyatopolk-Mirsky (D. P. Mirsky)

HISTORY OF RUSSIAN LITERATURE from ancient times to 1925

year/ Per. from English R. Zernova. – 2nd ed. – Novosibirsk: Publishing house

“Svinin and sons”, 2006. – 872 p.

A. Biryukov, preface, 2005

© R. Zernova, translation, 2005

© G. Prashkevich, afterword, 2005

© Publishing house "Svinin and Sons", design, 2006

FROM THE PUBLISHER

“History of Russian Literature”, written by D. P. Svyatopolk-Mirsky,

“Red Prince”, as he was called in Russia, long ago received world

confession. The book has been translated into all major European languages(And

reprinted several times), in everything... except Russian. The point is that

"The History of Russian Literature" was originally written in English and

intended for readers abroad. And only in the early 90s appeared

Russian translation. Paradox, isn't it? A book entirely dedicated to

Russian literature, written by a Russian writer, translates it... into Russian

language... Russian translator and prose writer Ruf Aleksandrovna Zernova. Under

this pseudonym for many years published by Ruf Alexandrovna Zevina.

She was born in 1919 in Odessa, studied at the Leningrad Philological Faculty

university. R. A. Zernova’s husband Ilya Zakharovich Serman taught

literature, defended his doctorate in Russian poetry XVIII century. Ruth herself

Alexandrovna always strove for literature. Unfortunately,

the best years of her life occurred during the most fateful years in Russian history. IN

preface to the only author's book in Russia by R. A. Zernova

“Light and Shadows” is amazing with the list of professions, or, let’s say, the author’s occupations:

first a student at Leningrad State University, then a translator in Spain during the civil war

war and suddenly after all this - a lumberjack, a digger, a teacher. By the way, in

In the stories in the book mentioned above, the realities of the camp were vaguely guessed. Yes

that's how it was: having passed Stalin's camps, Ruf Alexandrovna after all

survived. After all the ordeals, she and her husband left for Israel. IN

Israel and the translation of the famous book by D. P. Svyatopolk-

Mirsky. In 1992, small editions of the Russian translation were released

London publishing house Overseas Publications Interchange Ltd in London and

writer and journalist Alexander Mikhailovich Biryukov, more than one decade

gave his life to clarify the fate of his compatriots who died

in distant Kolyma during the years of repression. With the permission of R. Zernova, he republished

book in 2001 in Magadan at the expense of charitable foundation"Omolon" has already

circulation of 600 copies. And in 2005, the publishing house "Svinin and Sons"

(Novosibirsk) published the book of Svyatopolk-Mirsky in the translation of Ruth

Grain and with the blessing of A.M. Biryukov for a wider circle

readers. The entire circulation (1000 copies) sold out instantly. We are very

hoped that Alexander Mikhailovich Biryukov himself would write the preface to

a new edition of the famous book, but, unfortunately, in the fall of 2005 it was not

became. And even earlier, in 2004, Ruf Alexandrovna passed away

Zernova. Their role in the appearance in Russia of the wonderful book Svyatopolk-

Mirsky is simply invaluable. The book is written in simple and clear language,

brilliantly translated, and it was not without reason that V. Nabokov, who was stingy with praise, considered it

the best history of Russian literature in any language, including Russian.

Alexander Biryukov. PRINCE AND PROLETARIAN WRITER (What

attracted Gorky to Svyatopolk-Mirsky?)

HISTORY OF RUSSIAN LITERATURE

FROM ANCIENT TIMES TO THE DEATH OF DOSTOEVSKY

Chapter I. ANCIENT RUSSIAN LITERATURE (XI–XVII centuries)

1. LITERARY LANGUAGE

2. LITERARY SITUATION

3. REVIEW OF TRANSLATED WORKS

4. Kyiv PERIOD

5. CHRONICLES

6. THE CAMPAIGN OF IGOR AND HIS BROTHERS

7. BETWEEN Kyiv AND MOSCOW

8. MOSCOW PERIOD

9. MOSCOW STORIES

10. THE BEGINNING OF FICTION

11. THE END OF OLD MUSCOVIIA: HABAKKUM

Chapter II. THE END OF ANCIENT Rus'

1. REVIVAL OF THE SOUTHWEST

2. TIME OF TRANSITION IN MOSCOW AND ST. PETERSBURG

3. THE FIRST LITERARY POEMS

5. FICTION AND BOOKS FOR THE PEOPLE

Chapter III. THE AGE OF CLASSICISM

1. KANTEMIR AND TREDIAKOVSKY

2. LOMONOSOV

3. NARRATORY AND LYRICAL POETRY

AFTER LOMONOSOV

4. DERZHAVIN

6. PROSE OF THE 18TH CENTURY

7. KARAMZIN

8. CONTEMPORARIES OF KARAMZIN

Chapter IV. THE GOLDEN AGE OF POETRY

1. GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS

2. ZHUKOVSKY

3. OTHER POETS OF THE OLDER GENERATION

5. MINOR POETS

6. BARATYNSKY

8. METAPHYSICAL POETS

10. GRIBOEDOV

11. PROSE OF POETS

12. DEVELOPMENT OF THE NOVEL

13. PROSE OF PUSHKIN

14. DEVELOPMENT OF JOURNALISM

Chapter V. THE ERA OF GOGOL

1. THE DECLINE OF POETRY

2. RINGS

4. LERMONTOV

5. POETRY OF REFLECTION

7. NOVELISTS OF THE THIRties OF THE XIX CENTURY

9. PROSE OF LERMONTOV

10. THE FIRST NATURALISTS

11. ST. PETERSBURG JOURNALISTS

12. MOSCOW MUGS

13. SLAVICOPHILES

14. BELINSKY

Chapter VI. THE AGE OF REALISM: NOVELISTS (I)

1. ORIGIN AND FEATURES OF RUSSIAN

REALISTIC NOVEL

2. EARLY WORKS

DOSTOEVSKY

3. AKSAKOV

4. GONCHAROV

5. TURGENEV

7. WRITING

8. PROVINCIAL NOVEL

Chapter VII. THE AGE OF REALISM: JOURNALISTS, POETS,

PLAYWRIGHTS

1. CRITICISM AFTER BELINSKY

2. APOLLO GRIGORIEV

4. LEADERS OF THE RADICALS

5. SLAVOPHILES AND NATIONALISTS

6. ECLECTIC POETS

7. ALEXEY TOLSTOY

9. REALIST POETS

10. NEKRASOV

11. COMPLETE DECLINE OF POETRY

12. DRAMATURGY, GENERAL OVERVIEW; TURGENEV

13. OSTROVSKY

14. SUKHOVO-KOBYLIN, PISEMSKY AND MINOR PLAYWRIGHTS

15. COSTUME DRAMA

Chapter VIII. THE AGE OF REALISM: NOVELISTS (II)

1. TOLSTOY (BEFORE 1880)

2. DOSTOEVSKY (AFTER 1849)

3. SALTYKOV-SHCHEDRIN

4. THE DECLINE OF THE NOVEL IN THE 60s AND 70s

5. FICTION WRITERS

MODERN RUSSIAN LITERATURE

1. THE END OF A GREAT ERA

2. TOLSTOY AFTER 1880

4. POETRY: SLUCHEVSKY

5. LEADERS OF INTELLIGENTSIA: MIKHAILOVSKY

6. CONSERVATIVES

7. KONSTANTIN LEONTIEV

1. EIGHTIES AND EARLY NINEIES

3. SECONDARY PROSE WRITERS

4. EMIGRANTS

5. KOROLENKO

6. LITERARY LAWYERS

8. VLADIMIR SOLOVIEV

Interim Chapter I

First Revolution (1905)

1. FICTION AFTER CHEKHOV

2. MAXIM GORKY

3. ART SCHOOL “KNOWLEDGE”

6. LEONID ANDREEV

7. ARTSYBASHEV

8. SERGEEV-TSENSKY

9. SECOND PROSE WRITERS

10. OUTSIDE LITERARY GROUPS

11. FUELUTEONISTS AND HUMORISTS

1. NEW MOVEMENTS OF THE NINETY

2. AESTHETIC REVIVAL: BENOIS

3. MEREZHKOVSKY

4. ROSANOV

6. OTHER RELIGIOUS PHILOSOPHERS

7. “MILESTONES” AND AFTER “MILESTONES”

1. SYMBOLISTS

2. BALMONT

4. METAPHYSICAL POETS: ZINAIDA GIPPIUS

5. SOLOGUB

6. ANNENSKY

7. VYACHESLAV IVANOV

Devil's Bridge, or My life is like a speck of dust Stories: (notes of a cheerful person) Simukov Alexey Dmitrievich

D. P. Svyatopolk-Mirsky. General confusion

After Stalin’s death, under Khrushchev, when the great campaign for the rehabilitation and return of prisoners from the camps began, I was assigned by the Writers’ Union to review the play of one unfortunate man who was imprisoned on charges of preparing an attempt on the life of our leader. We got to talking and he told me his story...

After the pogroms of 1904–1905, his mother received from her relatives from South America the famous “Schiffs card” (ship ticket) and with the whole family moved to Brazil, to Rio de Janeiro. As my interlocutor said, he grew up and, following the example of his class brothers, joined the labor movement. He was detained by the police once, twice, and then he was invited to the chief of police of Rio de Janeiro. He invited him to look out the window and tell him what he saw there.

Blue, blue, wonderful sky,” the detainee answered him.

So,” said the police chief, “let’s come to an agreement.” Or will you stop your political tricks and until the end of your days you will have this wonderful thing over your head? blue sky- or... we will have a different conversation.

And they parted.

Since my new acquaintance did not heed the advice of the chief of police, a resolution soon followed: deport so-and-so to his socialist homeland, let him admire his sky, since there his revolutionary mentality will find best use. That's what they did - they sent him to the USSR. In Moscow, he got a position on the radio and worked in the editorial office that broadcast to South America until the moment when, you guessed it, he was put behind bars.

He received ten years in the camps and there, in Kolyma, he met the “red prince” Dmitry Petrovich Svyatopolk-Mirsky, the son of the Minister of Internal Affairs under Nicholas II, a former emigrant. While in England, Prince Svyatopolk-Mirsky was famous for his sympathies for Soviet Union, was a frequent guest at social events hosted by Soviet ambassador in London. A. M. Gorky persuaded him to return to his homeland, which, unfortunately for himself, he did, becoming known among us as the critic Mirsky.

The prince wrote letters all the time to Stalin, Voroshilov, Kalinin, but did not receive an answer. Finally, the head of the camp called him and, showing all the letters that had never left the camp, threw them into the stove. Having become convinced that the USSR has its own concepts about human rights, and especially those of prisoners, that are not similar to the beliefs professed by the prince, he was offended and switched to French and stopped sitting. He just stood and lay there. It must be assumed that the protest expressed in this way did not make his fate any easier. And he soon died.

My narrator could also have died, since in the camp the Vlasovites and criminals were set against him, but, fortunately, a Russian woman, close to the kitchen, stood up for him and somehow defended him. He survived. In 1961, he wrote a play about blacks in Brazil who rebelled and organized their own republic somewhere in the swamps, despising slavery. Attempts to smoke them out of there by the planters did not succeed until snakes were used - zhakaraks, which - only they! - destroyed freedom. The blacks came out of the swamps. The Republic is over. Further fate I don’t know the newly-minted playwright, but the name of Prince Svyatopolk-Mirsky resurfaced in the story of my friend, playwright Alla Borozina.

At that time, in 1935–1937, Alla Borozina was young, beautiful woman and kept company with a number of writers - with Stenich, a brilliant translator from English of Dos Passos and other American authors and an equally brilliant young man, a Soviet dandy, with Yuri Olesha, Mikhail Svetlov and Svyatopolk-Mirsky, who in this society was the oldest, the most reserved.

Once they were in the same company. Olesha and Stenich soon went home. It’s not an easy task: who will be the last to stay with Alla to see her off. Nobody, neither Mirsky nor Svetlov, wanted to give up this right. The two of us went to see Alla off. Having already arrived, getting out of the car, the prince suddenly turned to Alla:

Allochka, I have a favor to ask you.

Kiss me.

This was said with such force, with such internal tension that everyone felt uneasy. Obviously, a long-hidden feeling suddenly broke through in the prince.

Well, here's another! For what? - Alla responded with her usual obstinacy.

Come on! A kiss will kill you, or what? - Svetlov said casually.

Don't want! - Alla mercilessly snapped.

Svyatopolk-Mirsky sighed heavily and, drawing his head into his shoulders, as if extinguished, walked away. That night he was taken.

All her life Alla could not forgive herself for this. It was as if he wanted to say goodbye to her - forever. Then they took Stenich, then Alla’s husband.

The wildness and unpredictability of that time, when a person’s life sometimes depended on pure chance, is well illustrated by an episode told to me by screenwriter I. Mendzheritsky. One friend of their family, the wife of a Serbian revolutionary who lived in the Comintern house, next to the Manege, was returning from somewhere late, around two in the morning. Entering the lobby, she saw young man from the relevant department with a list in his hands and a janitor, apparently an attesting witness. Seeing her, the young man invited her to be understood, because according to the law there are two of them. Accidentally looking at the list that the young man was holding in his hands, she was horrified to be the first to see her last name. She said that she could not be understood and indicated the reason. He looked at the list, then at his watch and... crossed out her name.

Let's go! - he said. - It's late.

And off they went.

That's how it happened.

When we happened to be together with Yura Karavkin, my sister’s first husband, we often asked ourselves this question. Both his and my brothers were taken from him, we hid this from the authorities, naively believing that the authorities had no idea about anything. But if they knew, then why did we remain free? The sword hung above us, every minute it could fall, and we lived normal life, worked, met with friends, had fun... Why didn’t we tear our clothes, why didn’t I remember my misfortune every minute? Has my love for my brother diminished? My belief in his complete innocence? No, under no circumstances. Then what? I took his arrest for granted - that's all? After all, the blade could fall on me at any minute!

Now, in very mature age, I think about this often. Or has a society gradually developed that - it’s scary to even say this word - has become accustomed to the fact that every night one or the other of us is “taken”? In the morning we exchanged this news, then closed ranks and continued to live on? Has it ever occurred to anyone that it’s impossible to live like this, that it’s shameful to live like this? Have any of us made an attempt to end the tyrant?

I remember the most I could decide to do in the summer of 1937 in Malakhovka was to go into the thickest forest and shout loudly: “I can’t do this anymore!”

You come to very sad, very unflattering conclusions for our society as a whole. What I wrote then easily, sincerely and my humor was so organic - what is this? The people's voice or mine personal games that brought satisfaction only to me? What about my success with the viewer? Maybe my plays helped me forget these gloomy thoughts at least for a minute? And many did not know or pretended not to know.

These questions still torment me to this day. It is not easy to draw such conclusions. But too easily we succumbed to the evil will of a man who carried out, if you like, a grandiose experiment: one turned over a huge layer, essentially created a new society of cowards, slaves, strong traditions passing from generation to generation, that is, committed physical and mental changes a whole people. Or were the people ready for this in their own way? natural essence? Damned, thrice damned question...