SOURCE: Landsman, Neil B. “Decembrist Romanticism: A. A. Bestuzhev-Marlinsky.¹” In Problems of Russian Romanticism, edited by Robert Reid, pp. 64-95. Aldershot, Hants, England: Gower, 1986.

[In the following essay, Landsman discusses Bestuzhev's role as the foremost practitioner of Russian Romanticism in the 1830s.]

It is refreshing to see the wealth of attention being lavished recently on romanticism by distinguished Soviet scholars. Particularly heartening is the attempt to extend the bounds of romanticism and allot it its rightful place in the development of Russian literature. N. L. Stepanov, for example, in 1968 rejects the previous commonly-held view of romanticism as something inferior and hostile to realism² and in 1973 criticises the general failure to appreciate romanticism by those who consider realism the sole progressive literary force.³ Marlinsky for the large part remains unaffected by all this reassessment; from the 1820s to the present day he has retained his unshaken position as the most faithful and eclectic adherent to the movement. Indeed his name is synonymous with it; N. K. Piksanov in 1967 equates the man and the movement: ‘the basic style of Vadim is not romanticism or “Marlinism” …’⁴ In the 1830s he was a cult figure, the representative of the Romantic school. Turgenev's story, Knock … knock … knock! (Stuk … stuk … stuk! …) of 1870 illustrates this beautifully:

[Marlinsky] in the [18]30s thundered like no one else—even Pushkin, according to the youth of that time, could not be compared to him. He not only enjoyed the fame of being the foremost Russian writer, he even—which is much more difficult and is met with rarely—set his seal to some degree on the generation contemporary to him. Heroes à la Marlinsky turned up everywhere, particularly in the provinces and especially amongst soldiers and gunners; they spoke with ‘a storm in the heart and fire in the blood’. Women's hearts were ‘devoured’ by them. The nickname ‘fatal’ was coined about them. This type, as is generally known, was preserved for a long while until the time of Pechorin.⁵

The criticism of the 1960s and 1970s has come up with a wide variety of labels in an attempt to define romanticism once for all.⁶ It is interesting to note that whatever the label, Marlinsky fits it remarkably well. If ‘liberalism’, then the early stories such as “Roman and Olga” and “Wenden Castle” (“Zamok Venden”) can be viewed as efforts to incorporate progressive Decembrist ideals in literature. If ‘individualism’ or ‘subjectivism’, we have an entire panoply of Marlinsky heroes who challenge society and assert their individual rights—Mulla-Nur, Pravin in The Frigate ‘Hope’ (Fregat ‘Nadezhda’) and Gremin in “The Test” (“Ispytaniye”). If ‘the fantastic’, there exists a range of Gothic stories from “Eisen Castle” (“Zamok Eyzen”) to “The Cuirassier” (“Latnik”) which show Marlinsky to be a foremost exponent of this trend. If the phrase ‘conflict between dream and reality’ is used, we can look to a series of heroes who feel disillusioned because their ideals are too bold and lofty for this world—Sitsky in “The Traitor” (“Izmennik”) and Lidin in “Evening on a Bivouac” (“Vecher na bivuake”).

Not only did Marlinsky epitomise the general romantic movement, he was also one of the leading figures (then Bestuzhev) in an important branch of romanticism specific to Russia—Decembrism. Decembrist romanticism flourished in Russia between 1812 and 1825, from the time when the French armies were expelled until the Decembrist revolt. It includes the poetry of Ryleyev and Kyukhel'beker, the stories of Bestuzhev, the political tracts of Orlov, Pestel and Muravyov, the agitational songs of Ryleyev and Bestuzhev. Much of the most recent criticism is devoted to this aspect of romanticism. Ye. M. Pulkhritudova analyses the closeness of the Decembrists to the romantic aesthetic;⁷ G. A. Gukovsky maintains that Decembrist poetry was linked with Russian romantic poetry as a whole;⁸ B. Meylakh contends that it reflected reality more vividly.⁹ V. G. Bazanov has contributed several important works to the subject, in which he allots considerable space to discussion of Bestuzhev.¹⁰ Two of the major anthologies of Decembrist literature, one edited by V. A. Arkhipov, Bazanov and Y. L. Levkovich, the other by Vl. Orlov, reveal the significant role played by Bestuzhev in the development of civic romanticism.¹¹

Possibly the only serious bone of contention raised in this spate of criticism is the discussion over whether there is any significant development or change in Marlinsky's work from the early, pre-1825 period to the later, post-Decembrist period. I. V. Kartashova argues that his work undergoes an evolution in the 1830s, when, though not a realist in the strict sense, he is concerned with everyday reality, the life and customs of the Caucasian tribes. While still seeking, as in his early work, the mysterious and extraordinary in the humdrum, and while elevating the imagination, he often shuns the exotic and idealistic and prefers to concentrate on the simple life of the mountaineers. Secondly, whereas earlier he had sharply categorised reality into good and evil, beauty and ugliness, and had divided his heroes into the positive and negative, in the 1830s he attempts to show the capricious complexity of life, its transitions and contradictions. In The Frigate ‘Hope’ he describes not just the external conflicts between man and society so prevalent in the 1820s stories but the inner torments of Pravin and Vera; there is none of the former moralising. Thirdly, the romantic hero changes in essence, as doubt and scepticism encroach after the Decembrist débâcle and in the bitterness of exile. Though the ‘natural’ harmonious man still exists in the person of Iskander-Bek, the contradictory, divided hero, exiled, alone and suffering, makes his appearance with Mulla-Nur. Finally philosophical motifs increase, dealing with the external problems of life and death, the enigmatic human heart, and so on.¹²

F. Z. Kanunova likewise attacks the widely-held opinion that Marlinsky remained true in theme and style to the traditions of Decembrism. She says he moves closer to Kant, Fichte and Schelling, that is, towards German idealistic philosophy, and away from the mechanistic eighteenth-century materialism which had dominated his earlier phase. Thus in his Caucasian tales he glorifies the heroic, active and wilful principle in man and tries to reach some understanding of man's conditioning by history and national culture. In the early stories ethnographic material and folklore had a merely decorative function; in the Caucasian tales they are a psychological factor and demonstrate how man's character is formed in conjunction with history and culture.¹³

But R. F. Yusufov, who has written one of the most authoritative works on romanticism and national cultures, puts forward precisely the opposite theory. He claims that while Pushkin, Lermontov and Gogol overcame romanticism, Marlinsky continued to develop Decembrist romanticism into the 1830s. Admittedly new content was involved since he was dealing with a different society, but his understanding of this society and his method of treatment remained identical. Like Piksanov and others, he employs the term ‘Marlinism’ to describe what he calls ‘the accumulation of internal elements, one-sided judgments and evaluations’.¹⁴

The benefit of the doubt must be given to Yusufov in this dispute. A careful comparison between the work of the two periods shows the static nature of Marlinsky's talent. The style is still an amalgam of countless sayings, witticisms and turns of phrase. He persists in peppering his stories with metaphors, similes and rhetorical speeches. Dialogue and narrative are still burdened with declamation and clever puns. Gothic tendencies are in evidence along with his typical romantic plots, digressions and incidents. His Byronic method of characterisation remains unaltered: his heroes oppose society, for example Pravin and Vera in The Frigate ‘Hope,’ and Gremin and Olga in “The Test.” They may be endowed with supreme courage and patriotism as is the case with Nikitin and Belozor. They express themselves passionately, as the heroes of “Raids” (“Nayezdy”) do, or display lofty aspirations like the dreamers of “The Cuirassier” and “Raids.” Moreover he continues to write historical, social and military tales as well as poetry, travelogues and literary criticism. There is no doubt that his adaptation of local colour, his feeling for the nature of Russian society, and his lyrical poetry become more impressive, but they are easily recognisable as the work of Marlinsky. They bear the hallmark of ‘Marlinism’.

No efforts seem to have been made in the last two decades, however, to resolve the conflict between pre-revolutionary critics, who consider Bestuzhev's tales devoid of political significance, and Soviet critics who take for granted their patent revolutionary ideology. The former emphasise his lack of serious political activity and a consequent absence of political content in his work. S. A. Vengerov, for example, is of the opinion that Bestuzhev's involvement in politics was mere coincidence, the result of his love of danger and the influence of his friends. He contrasts his participation in the Decembrist plot unfavourably with that of other conspirators to whom political activity was second nature. He therefore denies that Bestuzhev's work ever dealt with social and political themes.¹⁵

I. I. Zamotin too declares that Bestuzhev was only drawn into the Decembrist movement because his own romantic temperament responded impetuously and joyously to the opportunity afforded him to play a leading role in this phenomenon of the romantic revolutionary epoch.¹⁶ Zamotin likewise pays the minimum of attention to social protest in Bestuzhev's work.

A. N. Pypin also adopts this attitude and refuses to admit that Bestuzhev was a sincere and influential member of the Northern Society. Though active in the uprising of 14 December, his conspiratorial role was negligible and his main concerns were always literature, society life and amorous adventures.¹⁷ Pypin goes on to say that there are few traces of political bias in his work, which is thus markedly different from Ryleyev's, where civic themes occupied a prominent place.

Yet another critic of this time, N. A. Kotlyarevsky, insists that Bestuzhev did not consider political thought a necessity of intellect or political action a necessity of temperament. His liberalism was not a matter of deep conviction but a lightly adopted pose. His stories, articles and correspondence do not contain any hints whatsoever of general liberalism, let alone political liberalism.¹⁸

On the other hand Soviet critics in a body acclaim Bestuzhev as an eminent Decembrist thinker and activist. M. V. Nechkina writes that he was of unquestionable revolutionary zeal and chose to arouse the Moskovsky regiment on the day of the rebellion as this was the least reliable and would hence require extra effort.¹⁹ A. P. Sharupich numbers him among the most energetic plotters and refers to him as the friend and collaborator of Ryleyev, a member of the supreme Duma of the Northern Society, the organiser and leader of the armed revolt.²⁰ Nor does N. Maslin have any misgivings about affirming the radical position Bestuzhev occupied in the Northern Society and the active part he played in preparing and carrying out the rebellion.²¹ N. L. Stepanov discusses him in the strongest possible political terms and asserts that his publication of the Polar Star, his reviews propagandising new political ideas, his agitational songs and his deeds on 14 December all testify to his commitment to revolutionary ideology and his outstanding role in the Decembrist movement.²² Like the aforementioned, N. Mordovchenko and V. G. Bazanov entirely relate the literary work of Bestuzhev to his participation in the Decembrist secret society and regard the two as inextricably linked and interdependent.²³

An examination of Bestuzhev's life and literary output before 1825 will go a long way to proving where the truth lies. It is an incontrovertible fact that he sometimes produced an unfavourable impression on his contemporaries. N. I. Grech, while speaking of his intelligence, talent and education, attributes his involvement in the Northern Society to pride, braggadocio and ambition.²⁴ F. Glinka puts it all down to romantic chivalry and excitable temper.²⁵ Batenkov asserts that he was a man capable of any extremity²⁶ and Trubetskoy remarks on his hotheadedness and fiery imagination.²⁷ Orlov lashes him for his senseless, nonsensical and indecent behaviour in society²⁸ and Shteyngel' describes Bestuzhev and Kakhovsky as keen terrorists.²⁹ Bestuzhev himself confessed to the above shortcomings in his character, pointing out that he was boastful, impatient and intemperate, deluded, hasty and over-imaginative.³⁰

These comments present a flimsy argument when counterbalanced by the other side of the picture. Indeed there were those among his contemporaries who bore witness to his ardent revolutionary beliefs and his important contribution to the uprising. Kakhovsky states that Bestuzhev's motives were altruistic and disinterested.³¹ A. Ye. Rozen wrote that had Ryleyev, the Bestuzhevs, Obolensky and two or three others been arrested, the events of 14 December would never have come about.³² The statement of the investigatory commission bears eloquent testimony to this fact:

Junior-captain Alexander Bestuzhev. Plotted regicide and the annihilation of the imperial family; incited others to this; consented also to the deprivation of freedom of the imperial family. Took part in the design of a rebellion through the enticement of comrades and the composition of revolutionary verses and songs; was personally active in the revolt and stirred up lower ranks to take part in it.³³

It is evident that they clearly comprehended the extent of his implication. This is why they sentenced him to death—later rescinded to twenty years penal servitude.

Statements by Bestuzhev himself over a lengthy period outweigh the faults he had admitted to; like many of his fellow-conspirators he experienced fear and disillusionment when in prison and under the intense pressure of importunate interrogation, and so attributed his crimes to congenital recklessness. His assurances that: ‘According to the inclination of the age, I belonged above all to History and Politics’,³⁴ and ‘… in the past I considered literature as a side-line’,³⁵ can be taken as a sign of where his priorities lay. He narrates how he discussed dreams of reform and his willingness to take up arms with Griboyedov,³⁶ Ryleyev,³⁷ Batenkov³⁸ and Obolensky.³⁹ He directly rebuffs the charges that he was nothing but a scapegrace by saying that he had deliberately contributed to this legend: ‘My frivolity was a masquerade for the social carnival … Society amused me very rarely, but never captivated me’.⁴⁰

It might well be argued that his whole life had revolved around the revolutionary ferment of the age. His father, Aleksandr Fedoseyevich, was linked with the oppositional groups and radical thought of the previous reign. He belonged to the Radishchevites and together with the most prominent of them, I. P. Pnin, published the short-lived St Petersburg Journal in 1798.⁴¹ The young Alexander passed his boyhood in an atmosphere of culture and enlightenment. His father strove to introduce his pedagogical ideas into the education of his own family and after his death the eldest son Nikolay tried to uphold these precepts in the upbringing of his four younger brothers.⁴² It follows that they were united by a common bond; they all shared an interest in literature and the pursuit of knowledge, love for their country, and hatred for despotism and serfdom.⁴³ It is hardly surprising that four of them participated in the Decembrist movement and suffered exile, while the fifth was implicated afterwards.

In his testimony to the Investigatory Commission, Bestuzhev confessed: ‘From nineteen years of age I began to read liberal books and this set my head spinning’,⁴⁴ and ‘I adopted a free way of thinking primarily from books, and progressing gradually from one opinion to another, I took to reading the French and English publicists’.⁴⁵

These liberal sympathies, inculcated by education and reading, were manifested in his visit to the Semyonovsky regiment in Kronstadt fortress in the autumn of 1820. The entire regiment had been incarcerated there as a punishment for protesting against the cruelty of Colonel Shvarts, who had restored corporal punishment and had several soldiers flogged.⁴⁶ Further evidence as to his growing proclivity towards liberalism can be seen when in 1821 he broke off his literary contributions to The Loyalist (Blagonamerennyy), the organ of the Society of the Lovers of Literature, Science and Art, because this organisation was becoming progressively more hostile to romantic tendencies and was headed by the reactionary A. Ye. Izmaylov. He joined at the end of 1820 the Free Society of the Lovers of Russian Literature, made up mostly of Decembrist writers, where he could find a milieu conducive to his liberal inclinations.⁴⁷

Now he began to mix with all the leading Decembrist figures, until in 1824 he was accepted into the secret society itself. Such was the esteem in which he was held, he was appointed to the leadership along with Ryleyev and Obolensky in April 1825. That he should have enjoyed the friendship and trust of such an avowed champion of freedom as Ryleyev is an additional pointer to his serious intentions at this juncture.⁴⁸ Since 1823 he and Ryleyev had co-operated as the joint editors of Polar Star, the highly successful Decembrist anthology of contemporary literature.

On 27 November 1825, together with his brother Nikolay and Ryleyev, he spent the night walking round the town impressing upon the soldiers that they had not been informed about the late Tsar Alexander's will promising an end to serfdom and the reduction of military service from twenty-five to fifteen years. Nikolay claims in his memoirs: ‘It is impossible to imagine the eagerness with which the soldiers listened to us; it is impossible to explain the speed with which our words were spread among the troops’.⁴⁹

And on the day of the rebellion itself Bestuzhev was one of the major protagonists in the futile but courageous endeavour to overthrow the autocracy. Early in the morning, accompanied by his brother Mikhail and Shchepin-Rostovsky, he hurried to the barracks of the Moskovsky regiment and roused the soldiers with his fiery oratory.⁵⁰ They marched to Senate Square, where Bestuzhev remained until the rebels were routed by the Tsar's cannons. Instead of fleeing in a panic like the majority, he and Nikolay halted several dozen men so as to defend the retreat and repulse a possible cavalry charge.⁵¹ Nor while the grim events of that fateful day unfolded had he been without a definite plan of action: ‘If the Izmaylovsky regiment had joined us, I would have taken command and decided on an attempt to attack, the plan of which was already whirling in my head’.⁵²

Like all the other Decembrist philosophers and poets, Bestuzhev felt the impact of European developments from 1789. All of them at various stages frankly admitted their allegiance to avant-garde European thought from the Enlightenment down to the 1820s. The names of Rousseau, Voltaire, Helvétius, Holbach and Condorcet were constantly on their lips; the works of Byron and Schiller were highly popular; the revolutionary disturbances in Spain, Portugal, Piedmont, Naples and Greece served as reminders and examples to the young Russian nobles; the latter chose as their real-life heroes men such as Brutus, Riego, Chénier and Byron who laid down their lives for the liberty of their countries. Their literary heroes were also men who rebelled against tyranny, Byron's Corsair and Schiller's Karl Moor. Bitterness was increased by the failure of Tsar Alexander's unofficial committee (Kochubey, Czartoryski, Novosiltsev, Stroganov) and Speransky's reform projects to achieve any positive progress. Moreover the Great Patriotic War of 1812 had brought about no improvement in the lot of the Russian people, who had sacrificed so much in the struggle for the liberation of their country. Affairs of state were hampered by reactionaries: the brutal Count Arakcheyev in the military, the fanatical monk Photius in the church, Prince Golitsyn, aided and abetted by Magnitsky and Runich, in education. A whole series of secret societies sprang up—the Union of Salvation, Union of Welfare, Northern and Southern Societies—to combat the forces of reaction, just as the liberal Carbonari groups in Italy or Hetairea in Greece had done. Bestuzhev, as a central figure in the Decembrist movement, could scarcely have been unaffected by this wave of ideas which swept across Europe and Russia.

Having established Bestuzhev's firm attachment to liberal trends, the way is now open to a study of the political aspects in his early work. This falls into several categories: (1) literary criticism; (2) the travelogue Journey to Reval (Poyezdka v Revel'); (3) the agitational songs; (4) poetry; (5) the historical tales of old Livonia; and (6) the document, “On the Historical Progress of Free Thought in Russia.”

Bestuzhev's literary criticism, contained in a series of articles he wrote between 1818 and 1825, clearly followed the lines laid down by the civic romanticism of the Decembrists, in particular by their literary society the Republic of Letters. Basically the Decembrists believed that literature had to be harnessed to the politics of the day. It was the Great Patriotic War of 1812 which gave birth to political consciousness. As Bestuzhev explained:

Napoleon invaded Russia, and then the Russian people for the first time became aware of its strength; then there awoke in all hearts a feeling of independence, at first political, and subsequently national too. This was the beginning of free thought in Russia.⁵³

In his article, “A Look at Russian Literature During 1823,” he underlined the link between literature and national crises: ‘… the thunder of distant battles inspires the style of the author and arouses the idle attention of readers; … and under a political seal literature revolves in society’ (Soch. [Sochineniya v dvukh tomakh], II, p. 540).

Literature could be used as an educational tool in the battle against prevailing ignorance. If, as Ryleyev asserted, ‘The ignorance of peoples is the mother and father of despotism, is the true and chief cause of all the violence and crime which have ever been perpetrated in the world’,⁵⁴ then it was vital to spread enlightenment. The code of the Union of Welfare assigned it a special category,⁵⁵ and Bestuzhev's “Look at Old and New Literature in Russia” blames the retarded development of contemporary Russian literature on the low standards of education in schools and universities, the poor taste of the reading public, the contempt felt for the scholar and writer, and the scorn for the Russian language in society. Literature and Enlightenment thus went hand in hand, and the same code spoke of ‘the elegant arts … strengthening, ennobling and exalting our moral being’.⁵⁶

The main stress of Decembrist literature was on national spirit, the national independence of Russian literature. The aspiration to create a literature which was not a mere carbon copy of foreign models grew into the prime concern of the Decembrists. They demanded a literature that dealt exclusively with Russian history, folklore and contemporary issues. They called for a renewal of pride in the Russian language itself, which had been so neglected and undergone so much foreign influence. The code of the Union of Welfare urged its members ‘to expose the totally absurd attachment to the foreign and its ensuing evil consequences’.⁵⁷ Bestuzhev was an indefatigable advocate of the ideal of national spirit and constantly railed against imitativeness of any kind. In his “Look at Russian Literature during 1824 and the Beginning of 1825” he complained bitterly: ‘We imbibed with our milk lack of national spirit and admiration for only the foreign’ (Soch., II, p. 547).

In 1831 he reiterated this feeling of abhorrence for the foreign in one of his letters: ‘I ardently hated German cosmopolitanism, which killed off every noble sentiment of patriotism and nationalism’.⁵⁸

In “A Look at Old and New Literature in Russia” he recommended reliance on national sources and called on writers to study the ancient chronicles such as The Lay of Igor's Host, The Chronicle of Nestor, Russkaya Pravda and The Song of the Battle on the Don, which offer a faithful reproduction of Russian national characteristics and the roots of the language.⁵⁹ Elsewhere he proclaimed: ‘I shall not forsake the language of my ancestors, in which they rejoiced and grieved, sang and deliberated’.⁶⁰

In the 1830s he continued to criticise strongly those writers he thought were over-dependent on foreign culture, such as Karamzin⁶¹ and Zhukovsky,⁶² just as he had heaped scorn on them in the 1820s:

There was a time when we sighed irrelevantly in the manner of Sterne, were courteous in the French style, and flew off to the ends of the earth in German fashion. When will we follow our own track? When will we write directly in Russian? God alone knows!

(Soch., II, p. 551)

His highest praise is reserved for those writers who were able to capture national spirit—Fonvizin⁶³ and Krylov.⁶⁴ He illustrates the necessity for national spirit in his critical maxim, ‘characters and incidents pass, but nations and the elements last forever’ (Soch., II, p. 549).

The Decembrist ethic preached that the content of literature must be ‘lofty feelings which attract one to good’.⁶⁵ Ryleyev's article, Some Thoughts on Poetry, contains the words: ‘We shall employ all our efforts to realise in our writings the ideals of lofty feelings, thoughts and eternal truths’.⁶⁶ Kyukhel'beker led the struggle for lofty themes and genres and hailed ‘the sacred mysteries of lofty art’.⁶⁷ Bestuzhev was not slow to herald this trend and in his literary criticism systematically eulogised works which were full of ‘lofty feelings’, such as Ryleyev's Meditations (Dumy).⁶⁸ He sees in Gnedich ‘a fiery soul accessible to all that is lofty’ (Soch., II, p. 532). He rebukes Pushkin for wasting time and effort on a fashionable dandy like Onegin and assures him: ‘I involuntarily give precedence to that which stirs the soul, exalts it, and touches the Russian heart’ (Soch., II, p. 627). In the same vein he is extremely critical of literature which is devoid of noble and lofty thoughts and is hard on Karamzin and his followers, treating them with irony.

The travelogue Journey to Reval, 1820-1, has been the subject of some controversy. Ostensibly it is an account of a journey to Estonia in the manner of Sterne's Sentimental Journey and Karamzin's Letters of a Russian Traveller. It has been looked upon by pre-revolutionary critics as belonging to the Karamzinian tradition, along with the travelogues of Sumarokov, Izmaylov, Nevzorov and Shalikov. However, on closer inspection (duly carried out by thorough Soviet critics) it becomes apparent that Bestuzhev's work is of a very different kind. Instead of lyrical enthusiasm for nature, the unfolding of tender feelings, and the relaying of melancholy or pleasant experiences, which the sentimentalists are so fond of indulging in, we get a serious and painstaking attempt to review the position of the Baltic peoples under their foreign oppressors.

He expresses sympathy for the downtrodden Estonians who rebelled against their German overlords in 1343. He castigates the behaviour of the knights, who were coarse and ignorant, besotted and depraved, extravagant and godless. These so-called standard-bearers of religion and culture robbed the Estonians and ‘adorned their own wives with pearls and diamonds and themselves with golden chain-mail’.⁶⁹ His compassion becomes stronger as his narrative develops and he describes the torments of the vassals, the hunger, pestilence, wars and pillaging they had to endure.⁷⁰

He displays a profound interest in the traditions and customs, the life and history of the Estonian nation. He made a serious study of the region and his references to Estonian sources reveal his knowledge of Livonian works and chronicles.⁷¹ He apparently refutes the theories of the German-Baltic chroniclers who had sung the exploits of the German conquerors, intimating that they combated paganism, brought enlightenment and culture, and were men of honour and justice. Bestuzhev portrays them as taskmasters and represents the struggle of the Estonians for national liberation as a just and righteous one in the true spirit of Decembrist civic romanticism. In fact Journey to Reval is in the tradition of Radishchev's Journey from St Petersburg to Moscow, Glinka's Letters of a Russian Officer, and Von Ferelzt's Journey of Criticism—travel books which fearlessly pictured Russian reality, the misfortunes of the people, the horrors of serfdom and the arbitrary rule of landowners.

Yet nowhere did Bestuzhev express the anguish of the people with such vehemence as in the agitational or ritual (podblyudnyye) songs. He was the co-author with Ryleyev of ‘Ah, I feel wretched …’ (‘Akh, toshno mnye …’) but was solely responsible for the others.⁷² These songs had a great effect on the simple people and spread like wildfire among the troops.⁷³ Little wonder, since they are written in a straightforward and forceful style. ‘Ah, I feel wretched …’ surveys the injustices and malpractices suffered by the martyred peasants. It is an outcry against the incredible cruelty of the landowning classes:

Ah, I feel wretched
Even in my native land;
All is in bondage
Will the Russian people
Long be the junk of masters
And will they long be traded
Like cattle?
Who enslaved us,
Who conferred nobility on them?
And freedom
Among the people
Is stifled by the power of the lords.
And now our masters
Rob us shamelessly
They flay us alive,
We sow—and they reap.
They are thieves,
Fleecers,
And they suck our blood, like leeches.

(Soch., II, pp. 514-15)

The Decembrists were loud in their denunciation of extortion and bribery in high places, especially the courts. Pestel condemned ‘the injustice and venality of the courts and other authorities’;⁷⁴ Lunin claimed that one of the objects of the secret society was the abolition of procrastination, secretiveness and costs in law-suits;⁷⁵ and Bestuzhev himself did not spare the shameful bartering with justice in the judiciary, exclaiming: ‘Everywhere honest people suffered, whilst rogues and cheats rejoiced’.⁷⁶ ‘Ah, I feel wretched …’ deplores these abuses:

Peasant,
Anywhere in court
.....The judges are deaf,
Though innocent, you are guilty.
.....There every soul
Is twisted just for a farthing.
The assessor,
The chairman,
At one with the secretary.

(Soch., II, pp. 515-16)

Even the parish priest joins in the wholesale exploitation of the defenceless peasants. The Tsar has blighted their lives with extortionate taxes and roadwork. The soldiers in the countryside treat them as though they were enemies. They are obliged to pay exorbitant sums even for water. The decrees inspired by Arakcheyev are an added burden. This song is convincing proof that although the Decembrists ignored the people as a concrete factor in the revolutionary struggle against the autocracy, they could reflect their mood and depict their hardships. Ryleyev and Bestuzhev's song is a savage indictment of conditions in Russia and is written with indignation and embitterment.

Military service in Russia was another circumstance the Decembrists found loathsome. They abhorred the system of military colonies established by Arakcheyev, which symbolised the arrant tyranny of the regime and had transformed Russia into a gigantic Prussian barracks. Pestel expressed his horror at ‘what he had heard about the military colonies’ and at ‘the oppression of military service’.⁷⁷ Rayevsky devoted a whole treatise entitled The Soldier to this problem; he listed rigid disciplinary procedures, tyrannical, mercenary and unreasonable leadership, disproportionately severe corporal punishment, illegality and inequity, lack of rights of defence or channels of complaint, irksome tasks and duties.⁷⁸ A heartfelt protest against the soldier's unenviable fate was voiced by Yakubovich, who singled out the wearisome length of service, the forced abandonment of one's family, the fear dominating one's life, the corruption and ignorance rife amongst officers and their inhumane treatment of subordinates.⁷⁹ The management of the military colonies was entrusted to Arakcheyev; the choice could not have been a worse one, for from all accounts he was a bigot and petty bureaucrat, undiplomatic and merciless, the object of universal hatred.⁸⁰ Bestuzhev subjected this aspect of life in Russia to harsh criticism:

The colonies paralysed not only the intellects but all the trades of the places where they were established and struck terror in the remainder. … The soldiers grumbled at exhausting drills, fatigues and sentry-duty, the officers at meagre wages and excessive severity.⁸¹

He had occasion himself to witness the military establishment at first hand as member of a dragoon regiment and later as aide-de-camp in turn to Count Komarovsky, General Bétancourt and Duke Wurtembergsky. Indeed the vanguard of the Decembrist movement consisted of high-ranking officers such as Trubetskoy, Obolensky, Pestel and Orlov.

The song ‘Our Tsar is a Russian (Prussian) German …’⁸² (‘Tsar nash, nemets russkiy …’) satirises Alexander's Prussian-like maniacal obsession with military parades and ostentation:

Our Tsar is a Russian German
.....Where does he reign?
He spends every day at riding-school.
.....Though the enemy of enlightenment,
He loves drills.
.....Only for parades
Does he dispense rewards.
.....And for compliments—
Blue ribbons.
.....And for mother-truth
He sends you packing to Kamchatka.

The notorious Arakcheyev comes in for his share of parody both here: ‘And Count Arakcheyev / Is the worst of villains …’ (Soch., II, pp. 512-13), and in the previously discussed ‘Ah, I feel wretched …’:

For all these enterprises
Arakcheyev
Is the one to blame.
He eggs on the Tsar,
The Tsar signs a decree.
To him it's a joke,
But to us it's terrible.

(Soch., II, pp. 516-17)

“Along the River Fontanka” (“Vdol' Fontanki-reki”) sketches the misery of the soldier's lot: ‘They are drilled and tortured, / There is no light, no dawn’ (Soch., II, p. 514). These songs are an open call for reprisals with the landowners, officials and the Tsar himself. ‘Say, Tell Me …’ (‘Ty skazhi, govori …’) begins: ‘Say, tell me / How in Russia tsars / Are crushed …’ (Soch., II, p. 511); while “Along the River Fontanka” asks:

Have they really no hands
To save themselves from torments?
Have they really no bayonets
For snivelling princes?
Have they really no lead
For the villainous tyrant?

(Soch., II, p. 514)

The peasants in ‘Ah, I feel wretched …’ threaten: ‘And what is taken from us by force / We will restore by force’ (Soch., II, p. 515). In the song ‘When the Blacksmith Leaves his Forge …’ (‘Kak idyot kuznets da iz kuznitsy …’) we read:

Here is the first knife—for the evil grandees.
And the second knife—for the priests, those hypocrites.
And uttering a prayer—the third knife for the Tsar.

(Soch., II, p. 517)

Another song breathes menace and hostility:

Now you are weaving ropes for the heads of lords,
You are sharpening knives for eminent princes:
And in the place of lamps you will hang tsars!
Then warmth, intellect and light will reign. Glory be!(83)

Much of Bestuzhev's pre-revolutionary poetry contains social comment imbued with Decembrist leanings. In 1819 he wrote “Imitation of Boileau's First Satire” (“Podrazhaniye pervoy satire Bualo”), where he stigmatises the society of St Petersburg for its mercenariness and insincerity. He enumerates the defects which poison it: insidiousness, boastfulness, deceit, slander, flattery, ignorance and arrogance. Judges, clerks and spies are in abundance. Many devote their lives to acquiring wealth which they flaunt instead of knowledge. The servile poor are under the heel of the haughty rich. Fools rise to the highest posts, while the talented are left to starve. The leitmotif of the poem is escape:

I shall flee from you, I shall flee, walls of Petropol,
I shall hide in the gloom of forests, in remote caverns,
.....I shall flee! I have found the golden thread of freedom.
.....Let us leave the corrupt town
.....I hasten to save myself from corruption.
Luxurious Babylon! For the last time farewell.

(Soch., II, pp. 465-9)

The whole poem is symptomatic of the typical Decembrist viewpoint and is reminiscent of Chatsky's diatribes in Woe from Wit (Gore ot uma). It is close in spirit to the first speech in Bestuzhev's extract from “The Optimist” (“Otryvok iz Komedii ‘Optimist’”). Here, after delineating the natural phenomena afflicting man, he excoriates the vices introduced into the world by man himself. The main brunt of his attack is borne by the young generation which leads an aimless dissipated life:

The sources of pleasure are lacklustre from satiety.
We are old at twenty and dissolute at fifty.
… All men are spiteful, and foolish, and miserable!

(Soch., II, pp. 469-70)

A comparison with Lermontov's similar poem Meditation (Duma) is all too obvious.

At the heart of the Decembrist ethos were the principles of patriotism and heroic self-sacrifice. The Decembrists were fervid patriots, convinced of the greatness of Russia and its noble people's right to freedom and political justice. They loved their land so passionately that everything concerning its countryside and life in their writing, particularly lyric poetry, is imbued with a highly emotional tone. Glinka, Ryleyev and Rayevsky extolled the beauties of their country and the glory of patriotism.⁸⁴ Bestuzhev too filled his work with exclamations like Sitsky's in “The Traitor”:

Has a Russian suggested to a Russian that he betray his country and become a traitor to his fatherland?

(Soch., I, p. 141)

O my land, my sacred native land! Which heart on earth would not throb on seeing you? Which icy soul would not melt upon breathing your air?

(Soch., I, p. 132)

In his poem ‘Near the camp stood a handsome youth …’ (‘Bliz stana yunosha prekrasnyy …’) the young warrior professes that he was always true to his country, which inspired him in battle and implanted the spirit of heroism in his breast.⁸⁵

The precept of self-sacrifice accompanied the patriotic ideal. Ryleyev perpetually exhorted his fellow conspirators to be prepared to die valiantly. Nikolay Bestuzhev relates in his memoirs some truly moving scenes with speeches typical of Ryleyev:

I am sure we shall die, but the example will remain. We shall sacrifice ourselves for the future freedom of our country. … If I fall in the struggle … posterity will render me justice and history will write my name together with the names of great men who have died for mankind.⁸⁶

Ryleyev⁸⁷ and Odoyevsky⁸⁸ acclaimed self-sacrifice as the pinnacle attained by those supreme in bravery. Bestuzhev's “Exploit of Ovechkin and Shcherbina in the Caucasus” (“Podvig Ovechkina i Shcherbiny za Kavkazom”)⁸⁹ (written shortly before the Decembrist uprising) is a paean to Russian gallantry in the face of death. In the poem ‘Near the Camp …’ the youth announces his pride at being able to lay down his life: ‘Tell her I fell fighting for my country’ (Soch., II, p. 475), and in “Mikhail Tverskoy,” a poem which reminds one of Ryleyev's Meditations, the scene is set in a sombre prison where a young man bids farewell to his aged father, who remains steadfast at the moment before his execution. In this same poem the motif of revenge on the tyrant is repeated; coming, as it did, only a year before the rebellion it served as a prophetic warning. The young prince observes his father's mutilated corpse, sheds bitter tears and rends his garments. He calls upon the God of vengeance:

He heeded him, this powerful God,
Helped Russians to rebel,
And removed the tyrants from the face of the earth.

(Soch., II, pp. 477-8)

It is on Bestuzhev's four tales of old Livonia that most debate is centred. To regard them simply as Gothic adventure stories, as prerevolutionary critics have done, is to miss the point entirely. The Decembrists were of the considered opinion that to set one's narrative in bygone ages was the most effective guise for concealing its true intentions. The historical tale, poem or drama did not incur the censor's wrath. In addition the past was an excellent school for the present; contemporary lessons could be read into heroic accounts of the struggle against the Tartar invasion, or the Ukraine's battle against the Polish gentry, or the republican exploits of ancient Novgorod and Pskov. Objective understanding was not so important; their view of historical events was entirely subjective. Ryleyev's Meditations are the best examples of national antiquity employed as material for civic preaching. He confessed that they were intended ‘to remind youth of the exploits of their ancestors and to acquaint them with the brightest epochs of national history’.⁹⁰ Bestuzhev was captivated by the idea of historical narrative, as he enthusiastically avers in Andrey, Prince of Pereyaslavl' (Andrey, knyaz' pereyaslavskiy)⁹¹ and “Page from the Diary of a Guards Officer” (“Listok iz dnevnika gvardeyskogo ofitsera”)⁹² and always treated it subjectively and imaginatively.⁹³

The historical tale of Novgorod “Roman and Olga” is the clearest illustration of how Bestuzhev utilised history for modern purposes. Among the Decembrists Novgorod occupied a symbolic place as the home of freedom and democracy. Ryleyev once advised Pushkin to write about the Novgorod-Pskov region, ‘that true land of inspiration’ where ‘the last sparks of Russian freedom were stifled’.⁹⁴ Pestel shared this cult of ancient Novgorod and declared in his testimony: ‘The story of great Novgorod also confirmed me in the republican mode of thought’.⁹⁵ Bestuzhev at one time was even preparing to undertake a history of Novgorod.⁹⁶

Roman Yasensky is endowed with all the qualities that go to make up the Novgorodian hero; he is above all a good citizen ready to sacrifice himself for a righteous cause. The democratic assembly is a model of the Decembrist ideal of the people's right to self-determination. Roman's speech is replete with the rhythmic style of Decembrist rhetoric and culminates in a powerful battle-cry. The Decembrists attached great importance to political eloquence and among them were men of brilliant oratorical gifts, such as Orlov, Pestel, Muravyov, Bestuzhev-Ryumin, Rayevsky and Lunin. They considered oratory an integral part of revolution. Muravyov-Apostol's Orthodox Catechism⁹⁷ and Bestuzhev-Ryumin's Speech at a Meeting of the United Slavs and Proclamation to the People⁹⁸ are exemplars of the art. Bestuzhev appreciated the value of eloquence and drew a vivid portrait of Demosthenes in action in his article “The Orator”⁹⁹ He himself stirred the soldiers of the Moskovsky regiment with his speech on the morning of 14 December 1825.

Roman speaks warmly of Church and State self-government, the subtleties of international law, the need for a close union between Russia and the West. He tries to destroy the myth of omnipotent Moscow and implores the people not to concede their rights. He appeals to them to choose freedom even at the cost of their lives.

The subsequent trials of Roman, his encounter with the honourable outlaw Berkut, their participation in the battle against Moscow—all propagate the Decembrist ideal of the perfect hero.

It is when the controversial Livonian tales are studied in context, that is, in conjunction with “Roman and Olga” and the foregoing Decembrist philosophy, that their real meaning becomes apparent. Perhaps the worst problem confronting the Decembrists was that of serfdom, an evil which had to be eradicated before any economic or moral progress could be made. Nikolay Turgenev,¹⁰⁰ Pestel¹⁰¹ and Rayevsky¹⁰² displayed deep concern for the pitiful condition of the peasantry. Bestuzhev's letter to the Tsar¹⁰³ and Journey to Reval deal with the identical theme—the maltreatment of serfs by their masters. In “Wenden Castle” the brutal and overbearing Von Rorbach has no regard for his vassals, on whose behalf Von Serrat takes up cudgels and proclaims, ‘I do not consider it a joke when humanity suffers’ (Soch., I, p. 39). Serrat protests passionately against Rorbach's callous flouting of the peasants' rights.¹⁰⁴ Bestuzhev sums up the situation thus:

The knights who conquered Lithuania and subdued the savages invented everything which the Spaniards later repeated in the New World to torment an unarmed race. Death threatened the stubborn and degrading slavery was the reward for submission … the blood of the innocent flowed beneath the swords of warriors and the whips of masters. Arming themselves in the name of sacred truth, the knights acted according to the dictates of grasping self-interest or brutal caprice.

(Soch., I, pp. 38-9)

The individual act of violence perpetrated by Serrat in killing Rorbach is in vain, as Bestuzhev points out: ‘The magistrate no longer existed, but his power remained’.¹⁰⁵ Though sympathising with the despair seizing Serrat, Bestuzhev cannot fail to condemn his deed; the leaders of the Northern Society had the utmost trouble in restraining Yakubovich and Kakhovsky from assassinating the Tsar. They believed that such action must be consciously intended for the social good and should not be a matter of momentary rage.

The second Livonian tale, “Neuhausen Castle” (“Zamok Neygauzen”)¹⁰⁶ affirms Bestuzhev's detestation of feudalism by showing the inner conflicts it produces within a seemingly normal family. The scheming Von Mey, who typifies the unscrupulous feudal lords, is put to death, while again it is the gallant Novgorodians, Vseslav and Andrey, who are portrayed as men of prowess. Furthermore justice is seen as prejudiced and ruthless, administered by a court which operates in secret and favours the mighty and influential.

In the third of the cycle, “The Reval' Tournament” (“Revel' skiy turnir”), the knights and nobles are caustically satirised. The knights are perpetually in a drunken stupor. They are supercilious and have no respect for intellectual qualities. They are devoid of consideration for passing travellers and think nothing of seizing land from each other. Baron Burtneck behaves insultingly to his servants and treats them inhumanely. The nobles likewise are empty-headed and foolish. Pestel,¹⁰⁷ Bestuzhev's brother Nikolay,¹⁰⁸ and Muravyov¹⁰⁹ all spoke with scathing disapproval of the aristocracy, as did Bestuzhev who analysed them thoroughly.¹¹⁰

This story also covers a favourite topic of the Decembrists, the rise of the middle class. This class, composed of merchants and petty bourgeoisie, they felt would play an increasingly crucial role in the economic stability of Russia. Like his brother Nikolay,¹¹¹ Pestel,¹¹² and Kakhovsky,¹¹³ Bestuzhev mentioned the handicaps suffered by the middle class: ‘The middle class is respected and important in all other countries; in our country this class is miserable, poor, burdened with obligations, deprived of means of a livelihood …’; and detailed the causes of the dissatisfaction of the merchants.¹¹⁴

In line with these views, Edwin, as representative of the merchant class, holds the centre of the stage. He is morally superior to the knights and nobles. He is brave, sincere and loyal:

He was able to dream and have feelings, but the Livonian knights could only arouse laughter and rarely amuse. … He had grown accustomed to social proprieties, and in education and astuteness surpassed with ease the knights of Livonia …

(Soch., I, p. 107).

His defeat of Ungern in the tournament leads to open warfare between the merchants and the knights and nobles, a furious battle for supremacy. Bestuzhev refers to the merchants as ‘the most active, honourable and useful class’ in Livonia (Soch., I, p. 127). They will supersede the knights, who have outlived their age and squandered their wealth, and the nobles, who are now impoverished and lack all progressive inclinations.

The last in this cycle, “Eisen Castle,” has the fearsome Baron Bruno Von Eisen as its centrepiece. He gathers round him hardened criminals for his raids and reckless adventures, but he outdoes them all in ferocity. He maltreats his serfs, kills them and his guests wilfully, and has a vicious, uncontrollable temper. When Reginald redresses wrong by murdering his uncle, we get precisely the same assessment of his act as we had in “Wenden Castle,” that is, approval because it benefited the people and gave rise to rejoicing, but reserve because its motives were selfish:

Why did he lack the will to refuse resolutely [to plunder] or to rebel against him openly? … But no, he did not stand up for the oppressed until he was personally offended; he only rebelled to save his own skin

(Soch., I, p. 166).

The final clincher in the argument over the political interests of Bestuzhev must be the letter he wrote to the Tsar when under arrest in the Petropavlovsk fortress, entitled “On the Historical Progress of Free Thought in Russia.”¹¹⁵ It is outstanding as one of the best Decembrist treatises on the political situation; it discusses the psychological and economic factors which generated social discontent and revolutionary thought. It analyses all the classes in society and draws a picture of Russia after the Napoleonic invasion in a state of devastation and afflicted by harsh measures and innumerable abuses. It includes the projects of reform harboured by the rebels. It is hardly the work of a person indifferent to politics.

There is a second conflict between pre-revolutionary and Soviet critics about Marlinsky's work. With a few notable exceptions the latter utterly ignore the influence of Western European literature on it and their approach is purely nationalistic. The former however pay full tribute to Western European sources. A. Veselovsky,¹¹⁶ Zamotin,¹¹⁷ Kotlyarevsky,¹¹⁸ M. N. Rozanov,¹¹⁹ et al, carried out exhaustive surveys of the extent and nature of these influences which must be regarded as indisputable. To deny this overwhelming evidence is also to overlook the numerous memoirs of the period which indicate the enormous interest of the public in the works of Rousseau, Byron, Scott, Radcliffe and so on. Even to admit the potent influence of Karamzin, as Soviet critics do, is to pay homage to the Gallic influence in style and theme. And to imply that Marlinsky isolated himself from the European romantic movement is nothing short of ludicrous, when one thinks that Belinsky called him ‘our first story-teller … the instigator of the Russian tale’;¹²⁰ that he was the leading literary critic of his day, to whom Pushkin wrote: ‘I admit that there is no one I like to argue with more than you and Vyazemsky—only you two can excite me’,¹²¹ and whom Pushkin named ‘the representative of taste and the true guard and patron of our literature’;¹²² that he had been appointed censor of bibliography in the Republic of Letters, whose secretary had addressed him in highly respectful terms in 1821, appreciating his ‘talents, zeal and labours’, praising him as ‘one of the society's most honoured and worthy members’, entreating further endeavours from his pen.¹²³

His articles, reviews and correspondence are brimful of references to all the contemporary English, French and German writers. Here we will concentrate on Byron, Scott and Radcliffe, as well as Rousseau, Balzac and Hugo, the first three of whom represent his early phase and the last three his time in exile.

Bestuzhev wrote to Pushkin on 9 March 1825:

I thirstily gulp in English literature and my soul is grateful to the English language: it taught me to think, it directed me to nature, it is an inexhaustible spring! I am even prepared to say: il n'y a point de salut hors la littérature anglaise

(Soch., II, p. 628).

Perhaps his favourite among the English writers was Byron, whose name first appeared in print in Russia as early as 1815 and by 1819 turned up more and more frequently until it was the main talking-point. Zhukovsky, Kozlov, Vyazemsky and Batyushkov were all delighted with him. In the early 1820s his influence was widely acknowledged; the liberal press spoke of him with veneration, the reactionaries with loathing. Bestuzhev's love for Byron was boundless; his letters are sprinkled with comments such as, ‘I still read Byron assiduously. What a fiery soul he has!’¹²⁴ He never lost an opportunity to discuss him¹²⁵ and his articles contain many encomiums to his work:

[Alfieri and] the matchless Byron proudly cast off the golden chains of fortune, scorned all the allurements of high society—in return the whole world lies at their feet and an eternal day of glory is their inheritance

(Soch., II, p. 551).

His enthralment with Byron caused him to misjudge Pushkin and offer him well-meaning advice:

You grasped St Petersburg society, but did not penetrate it. Read Byron; without knowing our St Petersburg, he described it more exactly where a profound knowledge of people was concerned. … I know no one who could sketch characters better or more picturesquely. … And how cruel and fresh is his satire!

(Soch., II, p. 627)

His letter of 17 June 1824 to Vyazemsky mourns the loss of Byron as a fellow-poet and a champion of human rights.¹²⁶

The popular romantic contrast between corrupt life in the city and idyllic life in the country or on a desert island or a nomadic existence came to Bestuzhev via Byron. The latter's Don Juan, Corsair, Giaour and Childe Harold escape the chains of society; so do Bestuzhev's Berkut, who lives in the woods unhampered by social prejudice and restrictions, and Vladimir Sitsky, who contrasts stifling court life with the open-air life of freedom and self-indulgence.¹²⁷

Secondly, one of the recurrent themes in Byron which Bestuzhev borrowed was the cowardice, stupidity and cant of English society life. “Night on Board Ship” (“Noch' na korable”) relates how Mary Aston is intoxicated with glamorous society life and is eventually ruined. It is this same society which brings about the downfall of Berkut, who is destroyed by its dissipation and luxury. In “Evening on a Bivouac” the cynical Major Vladov advises Mechin against the folly of choosing a bride from high society, educated to value only clothes, coiffure, fine carriages, visiting cards, dancing, and the social graces.¹²⁸

Thirdly, Byron's attitude to women was not in the usual romantic mould; for him love was not an exalted, divine expression of the soul. His criticism of women was bitter and mocking, and it is that aspect which Bestuzhev takes up. Roman, in his exasperation, berates Olga:

‘Women, women!’ he pronounced with savage mockery, ‘and you boast of your love, constancy, sensibility! Your love is mere whim, garrulous, and fleeting like a swallow; but when you have to prove it by deed and not by word, how profuse are your excuses, how generous your advice, old fables and reproaches!’

(Soch., I, p. 10).

Major Vladov is just as sharp,¹²⁹ Dr Lontzius in The Reval Tournament just as biting,¹³⁰ and Bestuzhev's own asides just as caustic.¹³¹

Fourthly, Byron's cult of Hellenism is paralleled by Bestuzhev's admiration for Novgorod, Pskov and Pereyaslavl'. These towns symbolise past glories and exploits and evoke rapture and pride. In the manner of Byron, he stands near the ruins of castles and monuments recollecting former triumphs and events.

Next, Byron's major contribution to European romanticism was his brand of the individual hero. Generally there were two types: the active and the passive. Byron's belonged to the former, the group known as Titans, and were not only outsiders, as was usually the case, but were obsessed by the constant need to prove their value and outshine everyone else. They flouted society and its rules and engaged in astounding exhibitions of energy, emotion and fury or bombastic tirades (Cain, Manfred, Lara). Bestuzhev's heroes are modelled on this prototype. Roman and Edwin, when they feel that their love is unrequited, indulge in outbursts of unbounded despair,¹³² but are generous in the extreme when they realise their mistake.¹³³ All display immense courage: Ronald risks his life and scorns death;¹³⁴ Roman faces death stoically;¹³⁵ Von Nordeck despises death at the hands of the Teutonic knights;¹³⁶ Edwin, quite unpractised in the art of jousting, presumes to challenge the redoubtable Ungern; Ovechkin and Shcherbina cannot contemplate surrender even when the odds are impossibly stacked against them; Von Mey has inflexible will-power.¹³⁷ They protest against any social coercion, against the spiritual enslavement of the personality by the conventions and morality of hypocritical society. Schreiterfeld accuses Gideon of ruining his life;¹³⁸ Reginald revolts against the ill treatment and evil upbringing he has received at the hands of his uncle;¹³⁹ Von Serrat arraigns the rapacity of the feudal order.¹⁴⁰ Nevertheless these Byronic heroes feel no pleasure at such manifestations of delight, courage, feeling or will. They are bored and indifferent. Bestuzhev's knights are afflicted with boredom and the faces of his characters wear a habitually sad expression because ‘stern sorrow’ involuntarily imparts to their ‘pallid’ faces ‘solemnity and an interesting look’.¹⁴¹ Their melancholy proceeds from an unsuccessful adventure or personal misfortune (Ronald), or from unrequited love (Edwin), or criminal thoughts (Sitsky), or from an overall pessimistic world-view—the common mal du siècle (Sitsky, Lidin).

The sixth way in which Byronic influence is visible is in the use of rapid transitions of action. This did not pass unnoticed by contemporaries. Pushkin advised Bestuzhev in 1825 with particular reference to “The Traitor”: ‘Enough of writing rapid tales with romantic transitions—this is all right for a Byronic poem’,¹⁴² and it was said of another story: ‘“Night on Board Ship” can be compared to a poem by Byron’.¹⁴³

If we take “Neuhausen Castle” as an example, we can witness quite conspicuous transitions. At one moment we are faced by the castle itself; then we are transported to a forest glade and its strange occupants; next comes the shore of Livonia and Andrey's band of Russians, the castle tower in which Ewald is held prisoner, the sea where the Russians seize the boat in which Emma is captive, and finally we return to Ewald's cell for the denouement. These switches highlight each scene. They occur without forewarning or intermediate pause. They are meant to emphasise the melodrama inherent in the situation, to heighten the tension and to make all incidents seem more striking.

Lastly we have the device of digression, which Bestuzhev admits to having copied from Byron. The epigraph to Chapter 2 of “The Test”—‘if I have any fault, it is digression’¹⁴⁴—is taken from Byron. These digressions which allow the author to comment on the action or his characters develop into long and tiresome philosophical paragraphs in the later stories like Ammalat-Bek and Mulla-Nur.

The influence of Scott is likewise pronounced. Scott was known and loved in all circles and Bestuzhev was likely to have read all the thirteen works published in Russia between 1821 and 1825.¹⁴⁵ Dramatic adaptations from Scott's novels were made by Prince Shakhovskoy.¹⁴⁶ At balls in high society ‘they loved to take costumes … from the novels of Walter Scott’.¹⁴⁷ Bestuzhev's diary for 1824 mentions The Abbot, Old Mortality and other unnamed works.¹⁴⁸ His articles carry numerous references to Scott:

Walter Scott determined the inclination of the century towards historical details, created the historical novel, which now became required reading …

(Soch., II, p. 594)

The genius of Walter Scott guessed at the domestic life and everyday tenor of the age of chivalry … sprinkled them with the vivifying water of his artistic imagination, breathed into their nostrils, said ‘live’—and they came alive, with the flush of life on their cheeks, with the beat of reality in their breasts.

(Soch., II, p. 593)

In “The Test” he says that Scott's novels could be found in the homes of country squires¹⁴⁹ and in “The Clock and the Mirror” (“Chasy i zerkalo”) in the boudoirs of society beauties in the capital.¹⁵⁰

At the beginning of the nineteenth century historical tales derived from chronicles or other sources appeared: Gerakov's Prince Menshchikov, 1801, the anonymous Kseniya, Princess of Galicia, 1808, the tales of S. Glinka, 1810, and novels based on Ukrainian history by F. Glinka, Somov and Narezhny. But Bestuzhev paid them only desultory attention. His inspiration came directly from Scott, and it was Bestuzhev who laid the foundations for the Russian historical novel. As N. Polevoy said of his tales, ‘They were the first attempts at the real historical novel in Russia’.¹⁵¹ Contemporaries saw plainly the presence of Scott's influence; Pushkin wrote to Bestuzhev at the end of May, 1825: ‘Your tournament reminds me of Walter Scott's Tournament’.¹⁵²

Scott's method amounted to the poetisation of national life and national spirit. The first entailed descriptions of the outer trappings of life. Whereas Scott's scenes of town and country were highly impressive, Bestuzhev's were stereotyped and lifeless. Apart from his picture of Reval on the day of the tournament, when he succeeds in capturing the bright revelry, he fails to make his historical scenes seem genuine and satisfying. In spite of taking great pains to refer to ancient armour, clothing, horses, knights, skirmishes, hunting sorties and the like, he appears unable to create the real atmosphere of domestic history. And whilst striving to ratify the historical or ethnographical veracity of his incidents, many of his dates and facts are not authentic. History for him was not archaeological data, but a matter of subjective interpretation, as he explained:

Let others burrow in manuscripts … I am sure, I am convinced that it was thus … in this my Russian heart, my imagination … is a guarantee. What purpose has poetry if not to recreate the past and prophesy the future, if not to create always according to the image and likeness of truth!¹⁵³

As for national spirit, Scott became the poet of individual nationality. He put Scotland on the map by instilling his characters and landscapes with a true Scottish spirit. Bestuzhev was totally incapable of this. It was Pushkin who fulfilled this task for Russia and so his advice to Bestuzhev is perfectly fitting: ‘Abandon these Germans and turn to us Orthodox Russians … The novel requires a conversational style; express everything openly. Your Vladimir speaks the language of German drama, looks at the sun at midnight, etc.’¹⁵⁴

Indeed Bestuzhev's characters talk and behave like the romantics of Germany, England or France. It is difficult to see them as Russians who have imbibed Russian culture, customs and beliefs. There exists only a superficial treatment—no Russian spirit or soul. The scenery too is not distinctively Russian; his towns, castles and landscapes would serve as well on the pages of any European novel of the period.

After the romantic poem and the historical tale, the most popular genre was the Gothic novel. A host of contemporaries told of their enthusiasm, particularly for Ann Radcliffe. In “Another Page from the Diary of a Guards Officer” (“Yeshcho listok iz dnevnika gvardeyskogo ofitsera”) Bestuzhev remarks jestingly: ‘Our journey makes a fine scene for a horror novel’, and his companion retorts, ‘Yes, and the night is most Radcliffian’ (Pol. sob. [Polnoye sobraniye sochineniy,], XII, p. 37).

The Gothic novel of Radcliffe, Lewis and Walpole left its traces on almost all writers, including Shelley, Burns and Keats; Bestuzhev was no exception. The setting, characters and dialogues smack of the Gothic, not to mention the deliberate accumulation of horrific situations. The castles loom dark and menacing, and within Wenden Castle the chilling atmosphere presages brooding evil. Neuhausen Castle is surrounded by lurking shadows and is eerie and forbidding. Eisen Castle is a formidable and awesome edifice. The settings forebode ill and dread, none more so than the following:

Four torches, thrust into the ground, cast a sort of greenish glow on the menacing faces of those present, and at each flicker of the flame, the shadows of the trees flitted like spectres across the glade. … The sky was black, the sepulchral firs whispered in the wind, and when their noise was stilled, at times the splash of waves could be heard on the stones at the river's edge.

(Soch., I, pp. 76-7)

In characterisation the men are truculent and passionate, the heroines sweet and innocent maidens. The former cannot control themselves, whether experiencing hatred or love. The text is full of descriptions like:

Beside himself, rigid, gnashing his teeth in anger … feelings of frenzy poured out in oaths and threats.

(Soch., I, p. 41)

His face burned with rage and his bloodshot eyes darted here and there.

(Soch., I, p. 70)

Love sets me aflame but jealousy gnaws my soul still more.

(Soch., I, p. 69)

The latter, such as Emma and Minna, swoon at any mishap, are ideal soul-mates, harbour dreams of happiness, and yearn for some indeterminate ideal.

The characters relapse occasionally into dialogue of the Gothic type, a mixture of expletives, insults and threats. They launch into bombastic outbursts so exaggerated that they seem absurd.

Finally the situations usually involve revenge and violence. Incident after incident recounts horror and murder, enough to slake the thirst of any reader: ‘Romuald, emaciated, pierced by a sharp log, was hanging head down and flowing with blood; his hands were dying with a convulsive jerk and his lips were uttering indistinct curses, (Soch., I, p. 91). The burial of the heroine alive in “Eisen Castle” is gruesome: ‘Poor Louisa came to herself, a shiver ran through her veins … Loud, hellish laughter rang out above her. “Death for death, faithless one!” said someone, and her blood ran cold.’ (Soch., I, pp. 167-8).

The later work, composed in exile, bore the name Marlinsky. It underwent added influences from western Europe, particularly French. Undoubtedly the most pervasive and enduring influence on Russian sentimentalism and romanticism was Rousseau. Marlinsky embodies in Ammalat-Bek the traits of the ‘noble savage’, courageous, good-hearted and endowed with rich intellectual potential. His colourful appearance—black curls, red trousers, yellow boots, gold-encrusted gun, dagger, Circassian saddle, stirrups of black steel—symbolise his princely worth and the poetry of free life. Marlinsky follows Rousseau in his extolling of the natural man. In Rousseauist fashion the mountaineers are depicted as independent, freedom-loving, brave, and loyal to their religion and community. The theme of escape by outlaw, criminal or renegade is represented by the bandit Mulla-Nur, who becomes the defender of the poor and oppressed. His protest however is tinged with regret and a sense of alienation. Marlinsky's “Story of an Officer Held Captive by Mountaineers” (“Rasskaz ofitsera byvshego v plenu u gortsev”) shows Marlinsky developing his theories and entering a polemic with Rousseau. Here the Utopian ideal is abandoned in favour of a more realistic and prosaic approach. The poverty and starkness of the mountaineers' lives are underlined, as are their quarrels, reprisals and hard work. The conditions of the natives are primitive and unattractive. Although they are the true children of nature, equal, devoid of vices, passions and ambition, they lack the advantages of civilisation and progress.

Balzac and Hugo are markedly influential in this phase. Marlinsky never tired of re-reading La Peau de Chagrin and loved to pit himself against Balzac's talent.¹⁵⁵ He admired Balzac's power of narration, his philosophical gifts, profound emotion, clear, marvellous form, and expressive genius.¹⁵⁶ But as for Hugo, he felt ‘humble before him … his is not a talent, but a genius in full flower’ (Soch., II, p. 650). He called him ‘an inimitable, mighty talent … a single page of whose work is worth all the Balzacs put together’ (Soch., II, p. 660). He had read Notre Dame de Paris, Marion de Lorme, Le Roi s'amuse, Bug-Jargal, Han d'Islande, among others. With them, increased depth is attained in the descriptions of society life in stories such as “The Test” and The Frigate ‘Hope.’ Marlinsky satirises the society of the day, empty, vain and frivolous. His heroes reject its values in the name of individual honour and integrity. A more painstaking attempt is made to describe society's conventions, foibles and customs. As the inventor of the military, Caucasian, nautical, social and historical tales, the debt of Russian literature to Marlinksy is enormous. Although much of his style was inflated, it paved the way for Pushkin, Lermontov and Gogol to found the Russian sociological novel. Belinsky's sound comment is a just tribute to his contribution:

Just as Sumarokov, Kheraskov, Petrov, Bogdanovich and Knyazhnin tried with all their might to withdraw from reality and naturalness in invention and style, so Marlinksy endeavoured to the fullest extent to draw near to both.¹⁵⁷

Notes

1. Marlinsky was the pseudonym which A. A. Bestuzhev assumed in exile after the Decembrist revolt of 1825. As a member of a dragoon regiment in 1816, he had been stationed in Marli near Peterhof.

2. N. L. Stepanov, ‘Chto takoye romantizm?’ (Voprosy Literatury, XII, 1968, pp. 176-81).

3. N. L. Stepanov, ‘Romanticheskiy mir Gogolya’, in K istorii russkogo romantizma, ed. Yu. V. Mann, et al., Moscow, 1973, pp. 188-218.

4. N. K. Piksanov, Krest'yanskoye vosstaniye v ‘Vadime’ Lermontova, Saratov, 1967, p. 43.

5. I. S. Turgenev, Polnoye sobraniye sochineniy i pisem', Moscow-Leningrad, 1965, X, pp. 266-7.

6. See, for instance, F. Leonidov, ‘Romantizm v sovetskom literaturovedenii’ (Voprosy Literatury, VII, 1971, pp. 199-202); L. Dorofeyeva, ‘Silovyye linii romantizma’ (Voprosy Literatury, IX, 1971, p. 234); I. F. Volkov, ‘Osnovnyye problemy izucheniya romantizma’, in Mann, op. cit., pp. 5-36; Ye. A. Maymin, O russkom romantizme, Moscow, 1975.

7. Ye. M. Pul'khritudova, ‘Literaturnaya teoriya dekabristskogo dvizheniya v 30—ye gody XIX v.’, in Problemy romantizma: Sbornik statey, Moscow, 1967, pp. 232-91.

8. G. A. Gukovsky, Pushkin i russkiye romantiki, Moscow, 1965.

9. B. Meylakh, Poeziya dekabristov, Leningrad, 1950, p. 35.

10. V. G. Bazanov, Ocherki dekabristskoy literatury: Proza, Moscow, 1953; Ocherki dekabristskoy literatury: Poeziya, Moscow-Leningrad, 1961; Uchonaya respublika, Moscow-Leningrad, 1964.

11. Polyarnaya zvezda, ed. V. A. Arkhipov, et al., Moscow-Leningrad, 1960; Dekabristy, ed. Vl. Orlov, Moscow-Leningrad, 1951 (hereafter Orlov).

12. I. V. Kartashova, ‘A. A. Bestuzhev-Marlinsky’, in Russkiy romantizm, ed. N. A. Gulyayev, Moscow, 1974, pp. 86-91.

13. F. Z. Kanunova, Estetika russkoy romanticheskoy povesti, Tomsk, 1973.

14. R. F. Yusufov, Russkiy romantizm nachala XIX veka i natsional'nyye kul'tury, Moscow, 1970.

15. S. A. Vengerov, Kritiko-biograficheskiy slovar' russkikh pisateley i uchonykh, St Petersburg, 1892, III, p. 157.

16. I. I. Zamotin, Romanticheskiy idealizm v russkom obshchestve i literature 20-30-kh godov XIX stoletiya, St Petersburg, 1907, p. 170.

17. A. N. Pypin, Istoriya russkoy literatury, IV, St Petersburg, 1907, p. 430.

18. N. A. Kotlyarevsky, Dekabristy Knyaz' A. I. Odoyevsky i A. A. Bestuzhev-Marlinsky, St Petersburg, 1907, pp. 122-5.

19. M. V. Nechkina, Dvizheniye dekabristov, I, Moscow, 1955, p. 131.

20. A. P. Sharupich, Dekabrist Aleksandr Bestuzhev, Minsk, 1962, pp. 15-17.

21. N. Maslin, ‘A. A. Bestuzhev-Marlinksy’, in A. A. Bestuzhev-Marlinsky, Sochineniya v dvukh tomakh, Moscow, 1958, I, p. 3 (hereafter Soch.).

22. N. L. Stepanov, ‘A. A. Bestuzhev-Marlinsky’, in A. Marlinsky, Izbrannyye povesti, Leningrad, 1937, p. 6.

23. N. Mordovchenko, ‘A. A. Bestuzhev-Marlinsky’, in Bestuzhev-Marlinsky, Sobraniye stikhotvoreniy, Moscow, 1948; V. G. Bazanov, Ocherki dekabristskoy literatury, Moscow, 1953.

24. N. I. Grech, Zapiski o moyey zhizni, St Petersburg, 1886, p. 393.

25. F. Glinka, Pokazaniya, IRLI (Institut Russkoy Literatury), AN SSSR (Akademiya Nauk SSSR); also see Bazanov, Uchonaya respublika, Moscow-Leningrad, 1964, pp. 317-34.

26. M. V. Dovnar-Zapolsky, Memuary dekabristov, Kiev, 1906, p. 175.

27. Ibid., pp. 316, 88.

28. Ibid., p. 11.

29. P. Ye. Schogolev, Dekabristy, Moscow-Leningrad, 1926, p. 190.

30. Vosstaniye dekabristov: Materialy, ed. M. N. Pokrovsky, Moscow-Leningrad, 1925-58, I, pp. 431-42.

31. Shchogolev, op. cit., p. 193.

32. A. Ye. Rozen, Zapiski dekabrista, St Petersburg, 1907, p. 62.

33. Dekabristy: Otryvki iz istochnikov, ed. Yu. G. Oksman, Moscow-Leningrad, 1926, pp. 446-7.

34. Pokrovsky, op. cit., I, p. 430.

35. Letter to N. Polevoy, Russkiy vestnik, 4, 1861.

36. Shchogolev, op. cit., p. 90.

37. Pokrovsky, op. cit., I, p. 433.

38. Dovnar-Zapolsky, op. cit., pp. 164-6.

39. Pokrovsky, op. cit., p. 435.

40. Letter to N. Polevoy, Russkiy vestnik, 3, 1851.

41. M. K. Azadovsky, ‘Memuary Bestuzhevykh kak istoricheskiy i literaturnyy pamyatnik’, in Vospominaniya Bestuzhevykh, ed. M. K. Azadovsky, Moscow-Leningrad, 1951, pp. 597-8.

42. Mikhail Bestuzhev, ‘Destvo i yunost A. A. Bestuzheva-Marlinskogo’, in Azadovsky, op. cit., p. 207.

43. Azadovsky, op. cit., p. 600.

44. Pokrovsky, op. cit., p. 433.

45. Ibid., p. 430.

46. Letter to Ye. A. Bestuzheva, Pamyati dekabristov, Leningrad, 1926, I, p. 21.

47. Mordovchenko, op. cit., p. 12.

48. Azadovsky, op. cit., pp. 8, 15.

49. Ibid., pp. 30-1.

50. Pokrovsky, op. cit., p. 437.

51. Azadovsky, op. cit., p. 42.

52. Letter to Tsar Nicholas, Orlov, op. cit., p. 513.

53. Orlov, op. cit., p. 510.

54. I. M. Semenko, ‘Poeticheskoye naslediye dekabristov’, in Poety-dekabristy, ed. Semenko, Leningrad, 1960, p. 8.

55. Izbrannyye sotsial'no—politicheskiye i filosofskiye proizvedeniya dekabristov, ed. I. Y. Shchipanov, Moscow-Leningrad, 1951, I, p. 266.

56. Ibid., p. 271.

57. Ibid., p. 266.

58. Letter to Polevoy (Russkiy vestnik, 3, 1861, p. 296).

59. Soch., II, p. 523.

60. Syn otechestva, LXXVII, 20, 1822, pp. 253-69.

61. Russkiy vestnik, 6, 1870, p. 507.

62. Soch., II, p. 591.

63. Ibid., p. 526.

64. Ibid., p. 530.

65. Shchipanov, op. cit., p. 270.

66. Orlov, op. cit., p. 559.

67. Ibid., p. 103.

68. Soch., II, p. 554.

69. A. A. Bestuzhev-Marlinsky, Polnoye sobraniye sochineniy, St Petersburg, 1838, pp. 70-2 (hereafter Pol. sob.).

70. Ibid., pp. 113-14.

71. Ibid., p. 69.

72. Pokrovsky, op. cit., p. 457.

73. Azadovsky, op. cit., pp. 27-8.

74. Orlov, op. cit., p. 503.

75. Ibid., p. 515.

76. Ibid., p. 512.

77. Ibid., p. 503.

78. Ibid., pp. 475-8.

79. A. K. Borozdin, Iz pisem i pokazaniy dekabristov, St Petersburg, 1906, p. 78.

80. Orlov, op. cit., p. 3; Azadovsky, op. cit., pp. 11-12.

81. Orlov, op. cit., pp. 511-12.

82. Texts vary.

83. M. P. Alekseyev and B. S. Meylakh, Dekabristy i ikh vremya, Moscow-Leningrad, 1951, p. 13.

84. F. Glinka, Stikhotvoreniya, Leningrad, 1951, pp. 123-4; Shchipanov, op. cit., p. 519; Orlov, op. cit., p. 475.

85. Soch., II, p. 474.

86. Azadovsky, op. cit., pp. 10, 34.

87. K. F. Ryleyev, Stikhotvoreniya, stat'i, ocherki, zapiski, pis'ma, Moscow, 1956, pp. 214-15.

88. A. I. Odoyevsky, Polnoye sobraniye stikhotvoreniy i pisem, Moscow-Leningrad, 1934, p. 190.

89. Soch., I, pp. 93-7.

90. Orlov, op. cit., p. 5.

91. Mordovchenko, op. cit., p. 81.

92. Ibid., p. 205.

93. Syn otechestva, 4, 1823, pp. 183-4; Russkiy vestnik, 3, 1861, p. 328.

94. Shchipanov, op. cit., p. 548.

95. Pokrovsky, op. cit., IV, p. 91.

96. Russkiy vestnik, XXXII, 1861, p. 295.

97. Orlov, op. cit., pp. 500-1.

98. Ibid., p. 502.

99. Sorevnovatel', 3, 1824, pp. 302-3.

100. Orlov, op. cit., p. 450.

101. Ibid., p. 503.

102. Ibid., p. 473.

103. Ibid., p. 511.

104. Soch., I, p. 40.

105. Ibid., p. 45.

106. Ibid., pp. 67-92.

107. Shchipanov, op. cit., II, p. 164.

108. Ibid., I, p. 437.

109. Ibid., p. 296.

110. Orlov, op. cit., pp. 511-12.

111. Shchipanov, op. cit., I, p. 435.

112. Ibid., II, p. 164.

113. Borozdin, op. cit., p. 30.

114. Orlov, op. cit., p. 511.

115. Ibid., pp. 510-14.

116. A. Veselovsky, Zapadnoye vliyaniye v novoy russkoy literature, Moscow, 1896.

117. I. I. Zamotin, Ranniye romanticheskiye veyaniya v russkoy literature, Warsaw, 1900.

118. N. A. Kotlyarevsky, Literaturnyye napravleniya aleksandrovskoy epokhi, St Petersburg, 1907; also Mirovaya skorb' v kontse XVIII i v nachale XIX veka, St Petersburg, 1910.

119. M. N. Rozanov, Russo i literaturnoye dvizheniye kontsa XVIII i nachala XIX v.: Ocherki po istorii russoizma na zapade i v Rossii, I, Moscow, 1910.

120. V. G. Belinsky, Polnoye sobraniye sochineniy, Moscow, 1953-6, IV, p. 272.

121. A. S. Pushkin, Sobraniye sochineniy v desyati tomakh, Moscow, 1962, IX, p. 67.

122. Ibid., p. 40.

123. IRLI (Institut Russkoy Literatury), AN SSSR (Akademiya Nauk SSSR), Bumagi Bestuzhevykh, Arkh., 3 (5572).

124. Pamyati dekabristov, p. 69.

125. Ibid., p. 60; see also Azadovsky, op. cit., pp. 524-5.

126. Soch., II, p. 623.

127. Ibid., I, p. 145.

128. Ibid., pp. 49-50.

129. Ibid., p. 65.

130. Ibid., p. 121.

131. Ibid., p. 166.

132. Ibid., pp. 6-7, 116-17.

133. Ibid., pp. 126, 11.

134. Pol. sob., I, p. 178.

135. Soch., I, p. 22.

136. Ibid., p. 78.

137. Ibid., p. 70.

138. Pol. sob., XII, p. 51.

139. Soch., I, pp. 164-5.

140. Ibid., pp. 39-40.

141. Pol. sob., I, p. 171.

142. Pushkin, op. cit., IX, p. 160.

143. Moskovskiy telegraf, XLIX, 1833, p. 328.

144. Soch., I, p. 178.

145. Rospis' rossiyskim knigam dlya chteniya iz biblioteki Aleksandra Smirdina, St Petersburg, 1828-47.

146. P. Arapov, Letopis' russkogo teatra, St Petersburg, 1861.

147. Zapiski A. O. Smirnovoy, St Petersburg, 1897, II, p. 49.

148. Pamyati dekabristov, I, pp. 60-6.

149. Soch., I, p. 203.

150. Pol. sob., IV, p. 239.

151. N. Polevoy, Klyatva pri grobe gospodnem, Moscow, 1832, Part I, Chapters 11-12.

152. Pushkin, op. cit., IX, p. 160.

153. Russkiy vestnik, 3, 1861, p. 328.

154. Pushkin, op. cit., IX, p. 160.

155. Soch., II, p. 643.

156. Ibid., p. 650.

157. Belinsky, op. cit., IV, p. 28.