SOURCE: Löve, Katharina Hansen. “The Structure of Space in Lermontov's ‘Mcyri.’” Russian Literature 34, no. 1 (July 1993): 37-58.

[In the following essay, Löve characterizes Lermontov's poem “Mcyri” as a work that negotiates the difference between the familiar and the unknown in spatial, cultural, and personal terms.]

1. INTRODUCTION

1.1.

In this article I will examine the peculiarities of the structure of space in a literary text from Russian Romanticism. In Russian literary history this movement is generally situated between 1815 and 1840, so that roughly speaking Romanticism occupies the first half of the nineteenth century, embracing initially Sentimentalism, from which it evolved, and coexisting for some time with Realism in the ultimate years.

From a diachronic point of view, Romanticism is a so-called ‘secondary style’ period. The term originated with Lichačev (1973: 172 ff.), who views the literary evolution as a sequence of, in turn, ‘primary’ and ‘secondary’ styles. In this more or less mechanical succession of styles,¹ a style of the primary type develops into the secondary one because of an inevitable process of increasing complexity and formalization—‘usložnenie i formalizacija’. Secondary styles distinguish themselves not only by their complexity, but also by a greater conventionality, an emphasis on the code-character of art, ornamentalism (a shift from content to form). Primary styles, on the contrary, are marked by a relative ‘simplicity’.

Lichačev distinguishes the following pairs of, respectively, primary and secondary styles: Romanesque-Gothic, Renaissance-Baroque, Classicism-Romanticism. To these one may add the pair Realism-Symbolism, following Döring and Smirnov 1980.

Each new style in this evolutionary sequence takes its bearings on preceding styles of the same type. This relationship—“rodstvennaja svjaz'”—accounts for the correspondences within each category and explains similarities between styles that are separated in time. Examples are, among others, the orientation of Renaissance towards classical antiquity and of Classicism towards both of these preceding primary styles or the parallels between Symbolism and Romanticism.

Primary styles are usually connected with a distinct ideology (e.g., Renaissance with Humanism and Realism with Positivism), whereas the situation for secondary styles is a more complicated one. These often have the tendency to serve several, even contradictory, ideologies at the same time. Romanticism, for one, combines an historical interest, an orientation towards the past, sometimes even glorification of bygone years—a ‘reactionary’ ideology, with more progressive ideals, such as national liberation, emancipation, the awakening of a national consciousness.

1.2.

A fundamental aspect of the romantic worldview, and particularly in respect of the category of space in romantic works of art, is the orientation towards another world. The romantic code, as it were, prescribes the evocation of an alternative world, onto which all kinds of ideals can be projected. The attention of the romantics is attracted not by the hic et nunc, but by worlds of the past (or future), by irrational phantasmagories or the marvels of unknown and strange countries.

This results in a basic bipartition of the world picture, designated as ‘dvoemirie’, i.e. a system of two contrastive or even antipodal worlds. Furthermore, the conflicting worlds in secondary systems are believed to be incommensurable (van Baak 1983: 33) or asymmetrical (Lotman 1979: 167) in principle, which means that they involve sets of non-interchangeable elements:

Conflict space in such cases will be a compound of incommensurable spaces, emerging from the polarities between two distinct worlds with their own modalities, one of them being imaginary and infinite, unbound and not subject to the limitations, time and causation of ‘primary style’ worlds.

(van Baak 1983: 33)

The distinction of two worlds determines the structure of the text on different levels, spatially it is expressed as an opposition between ‘here’ and ‘there’, between ‘proximity’ and ‘distance’, ‘this side’ and ‘yonder side’. Döring and Smirnov (1980: 33) notice the high frequency in secondary style works of words referring to the ‘other’ world:

Vysокij udilsnyj vis slоv ‘tоt’, ‘inоj’, ‘cuzоj’, ‘dalsnij’, ‘nizdisnij’ v liкsicisкоm ripirtuari ‘vtоricnyk stilij’.

Obviously the ‘dvoemirie’ influences other modalities of the text as well, it is, for instance, expressed temporally (‘now-then’, ‘present-past/future’), or causal/logically (‘rational-irrational/fantastic’).

1.3.

In the spatial structure of texts in which orientation towards an alternative world is a distinct feature of the world picture, the border between the two worlds is of great modelling importance (cf. Lotman 1968, 1971). It is the romantic hero who emphasizes the separating role of the border, his primary actions are aimed at crossing that boundary. This pursuit causes the romantic conflict, in which there is always a clashing between the hero and his surroundings. Or, to put it in another way, a central aspect of Romanticism is the conflict between the hero and his environment. The romantic hero views himself as an outsider, ‘ja—čuzoj’—I am the other.² He is either fleeing his own country in pursuit of happiness elsewhere, or he is an alien in a foreign country. In both cases the romantic hero embodies a confrontation between two worlds.

1.4.

Typologically the romantic bipartite model of the world could be summarized in the opposition ‘svoj, rodnoj’ vs. ‘čužoj’. This opposition, however, appears to be of a highly ambiguous nature. It is for instance not always easy to ascertain which part of the ‘dvoemirie’ corresponds with ‘svoj’ and which one with ‘čužoj’. The definition depends strongly on the point of view of narrator and/or characters. ‘Svoj’ is not necessarily identical with the ‘here and now’, it probably more often is not. Compare, for instance, the very popular conflict situation in which the hero longs for a place where he is not—“dort wo du nicht bist ist das Glück”. The romantic hero often feels a stranger among his fellow countrymen—‘ja-čužoj’. In such a case the hero's point of view will define the place where he is, as ‘čužoj’ and the place where he is not as ‘svoj’. From the point of view of society the definition is exactly the opposite.

To make things even more complicated, the point of view of a focalisator may shift as the story progresses. What was experienced as ‘svoj’ at first, may turn ‘čužoj’ in the course of events, and vice versa.

The typological definition of Romanticism as a conflict between two worlds, opposed according to the principle of ‘svoj’ vs. ‘čužoj’, must therefore be handled with care. Points of view and nuances must be taken into account in order not to simplify the complex and often contradictory romantic worldview.

2. A FEW REMARKS ON ROMANTICISM

2.1.

With the usual reservations that the following enumeration renders only a very incomplete picture of the many-faced movement of Romanticism, the works of this period can be grouped thematically, according to the nature of this ‘other world’. Typical for Russian as well as for European Romanticism are stories about

• a. the historical past,
• b. the world of the fantastic or supernatural,
• c. exotic cultures, and
• d. the contemporary high society.

These themes were treated in the form of both prose—the short story in particular—and poetry, especially the genre of the lyrical verse tale, the ‘poèma’.

2.2.

In the present article I have singled out the exotic category, for it is here that we encounter the romantic world picture in its most typical Russian form. Northern and southern thematics both play a role in the Russian romantic exotic and by consequence the opposition North-South is of importance in the modelling of worldviews.³ In the light of this, Russia is conceived as a central chronotope, and opposed to culturally and geographically peripheral locations such as Finland, the Baltic countries, Siberia, the Ukraine or the Caucasus.

The North or the South may also function as an autonomous, exotic conflict space. An example of this variant are stories situated in the northern city of St. Petersburg (‘Mednyj vsadnik’, ‘Šinel'’), which is seen as a demonic, artificial and anti-human world (the exotic and fantastic sometimes merge), where there is no explicit North-South orientation. A survey of the northern theme in Russian literature is given by van Baak (1988).

Though the North plays its part as an exotic location, the South seems to stand out more prominently. Therefore my attention will be focussed more specifically on this particular theme in Russian Romanticism.

No distant, newly discovered and occupied territories overseas, but the provinces in the South and Southeast of the empire became the setting of Russian romantic conflicts.⁴ The ‘other’ world in the Russian romantic stories and poems about the exotic, is part of the material, tangible, geographically defined and ‘known’ world, but emphasis is laid on the difference in culture, on other customs, spectacular landscapes and the notion of foreignness is accentuated in all sorts of ways.⁵

Furthermore, the foreign country is often preferred to the ‘own’, because of a supposed greater authenticity and unaffectedness by the decadence of civilization.⁶ The climatological contrast between the harsh North and the much more hospitable South evidently plays a role as well. In contrast to Sentimentalism the romantic utopia is either never reached, or, after it is reached, disappointing. The paradoxical situation in Puškin's ‘Kavkazskij plennik’ is exemplary. In this poem the hero has left his homeland (Russia) in search of a more authentic life among a free people, but once he reaches the place of his dreams, he is taken prisoner and held captive, unable to share the freedom of those around him. In consequence, he begins to long to go back to his home, to the world he came from.

Probably the most important aspect of the exotic world in relation to the ‘own’ culture, the culture of origin, is the association with liberty and freedom, notions for which the Russian knows no less than three words, each with their own specific nuance of meaning, ‘svoboda’ (political freedom, liberty), ‘volja’ (spiritual freedom) and ‘prostor’ (experience of freedom in space). If one takes the socio-political background of the Romantic movement in Europe into account, it is not surprising that these words figure so frequently in the romantic lexicon. The case of Byron is exemplary. What began as an individual love of freedom, was to develop into a general and social fight for freedom. In Russia the victory over Napoleon (1812) and the abortive Decembrist uprising against autocracy (1825), that Nicholas I was to answer with reactionary despotism, played their part in determining the ideology behind the Romantic movement.

2.3

In the case of Russian Romanticism the Caucasus became the exotic topos par excellence. This neighbouring territory to the Southeast of Russia, joined to the empire partly in 1783, and entirely and definitely in 1801, was a source of inspiration for many Russian authors in the first half of the nineteenth century.

Thanks to its proximity and due to the specific socio-historical circumstances that brought Russians to the South, the Caucasian region was known to these writers either from their travels or from their own military experience.

However, Russian culture of that time shows a rather ambiguous attitude towards the Caucasus and its inhabitants. There appears to exist a discrepancy between historical and literary reality. In real life the romantic authors (Bestužev, Lermontov) participated in the Russian hostilities, aimed at oppressing the Caucasian peoples. The behaviour of the romantics seems to indicate that they were not in favour of independence in this region.

In their literary works, however, these same authors depict those peoples with sympathy and understanding, even with admiration for their unconditional, zealous fight for freedom and liberty, cf. Lermontov's ‘Izmail-Bej’ (1832).

This inconsistency, the contrast between life and literature leaves us with a complex impression of the romantic relation with the Caucasus.

Armed resistance of the mountain tribes was to continue well into the second half of the nineteenth century. Therefore, the region was a continuous source of conflict, being simultaneously a historical and a literary conflict space. In both cases the region was identified with danger and battle (heroism) on the one hand and with the spirit of freedom on the other. These notions were rapidly accepted into literature and became an obligatory part of the romantic code.

The second permanent component were descriptions of the striking natural beauty of the mountains, descriptions that did not fail to become literary cliches and were mocked by later generations of writers, for instance Tolstoj in his story ‘Kazaki’ (1852-1862), cf. van Baak (1984).

The Caucasus in Russian literature of the first half of the nineteenth century therefore represents simultaneously all kinds of contrasting notions, such as war and peace, freedom and captivity, love and animosity, life and death. This identification of one and the same location with concepts mutually so contradictory, accounts for a complex setting, which is filled with conflict and which is highly emotional. Van Baak (1984: 368) speaks of the Caucasus as a cluster of chronotopes, using Bachtin's well-known term for the melting together of place and time. In Russian Romanticism the Caucasus became one of the most famous and popular chronotopes, thanks to the characteristic identification of locations, actions, and emotions in stories and poems with a Caucasian setting.

An example of such a chronotope is the river Terek, functioning as a border in the structure of literary space and dividing the literary universe into two ‘poles’. This is especially the case in stories and poems in which a contrast between two hostile cultures, the world of Russia to the North and world to the Caucasus to the South of the Terek is established. The crossing of the Terek entails an incident, the clashing of North and South and a changing of the status quo.

3. M. JU. LERMONTOV AND ‘MCYRI’

3.1.

The most prominent representatives of the romantic exotic Caucasus theme in Russian literature are Aleksandr Bestužev-Marlinskij (1797-1837), Aleksandr Puškin (1799-1837) and Michail Lermontov (1814-1841). Puškin's ‘Kavkazskij plennik’ (1820-1821) opens a series of verse and prose tales, among which Marlinskij's—at that time extremely popular—‘Ammalat-Bek’ (1832) stands out, and of which Lermontov's ‘Mcyri’ (1839-1840) forms the concluding piece.

Lermontov can, perhaps, be regarded as the greatest and purest representative of Russian Romanticism. For one thing, this is due to the great passion with which he treats the traditional romantic topics of freedom and captivity, of melancholic yearning, of loneliness and of the majesty of nature,⁷ to which he is known to add a philosophical dimension. He recurrently deals with the problem of good and evil, fate and free will, heaven and earth, time and eternity etc.

Furthermore, life and art have hardly ever been more intertwined than in the case of the tragically short biography of Lermontov, who for this reason can also be called the Russian Byron. It is not surprising that Lermontov's work has often been treated from an autobiographical point of view, an approach fostered by the enigmatic and contradictory nature of the poet's character and the sometimes nearly prophetic dimension of his work.

An allegorical reading of the poem ‘Mcyri’, in which the “mcyri” is identified with the person of Lermontov himself (or with his entire, ‘lost’ generation), the mcyri's loneliness with Lermontov's isolation in the oppressive tsarist Russia of Nicholas I, and the mcyri's unsuccessful search for his native country with the poet's striving for a freer (and juster) society, has been part of traditional approaches to this work.⁸ Without wanting to deny the existence of such a symbolical dimension, the present discussion of the poem will focus solely on the structure of space and the worldviews connected with it.

3.2.

Although its date of appearance places ‘Mcyri’ on the borderline of Romanticism and Realism, the tale is still completely loyal to the romantic code. The topics Lermontov treats in this last big lyrical work,⁹ captivity and escape, freedom and loneliness, longing and nostalgia for a lost homeland, fate and individuality, and last but not least the majesty of nature, have all been dealt with exhaustively before. On the other hand, ‘Mcyri’ lacks some of the other traditional romantic themes and motifs. The usual battle-scenes and love-story are reduced to an absolute minimum. Even the obligatory mysteriousness of the hero (in the Byronic sense of the word), connected with his enigmatic past or puzzling physiognomy, is modified.

Notwithstanding these facts, ‘Mcyri’ is still one of the most complete and powerful creations of Russian Romanticism, and can therefore be regarded as one of the corner-stones of this movement.¹⁰

4. SURVEY

‘Mcyri’—a Georgian word designating a novice, and also a stranger or a lonely person without relatives (cf. Lermontov 1989: 650)—belongs to the typical romantic genre of the lyrical verse tale, a genre connected with the name of Byron in the first place and in Russian literature with Puškin and Lermontov.¹¹ It is written in iambs and consists of 748 lines, divided into 26 stanzas of unequal length.

The poem relates the peregrinations of a young man, who flees the monastery where he grew up in search for his lost motherland—his “rodina”. The mcyri's story—the young man stays anonymous throughout—is told by himself in a long apologetic monologue before he dies. A brief auctorial introduction precedes this ‘confession’ (stanzas I ＋ II).¹² Here the narrator globally outlines the historical and geographical setting. The monastery, though in ruins, may still be seen today (a reminiscence of the elegiac introduction to Karamzin's ‘Bednaja Liza’) at the confluence of the rivers Aragva and Kura. The narrator gives a short account of the mcyri's life, who was kidnapped from the mountains as a child by a Russian general, and abandoned at the monastery, mortally ill. Here a monk saved his life, and brought him up according to the ways and customs of the monastery. He was already preparing to take the vow and stay for good, until, one night, he mysteriously disappeared. Three days later the monks found him barely alive in the steppe. Then follows his own account of his wanderings, a description of an ecstatic experience of freedom in open space, a world of storms and struggles, of beautiful girls and ferocious animals. The mcyri, however, fails to find the path to his homeland, involuntarily he returns to the monastery where he realizes that his fate is to stay in the monastery and to die and be buried there.

During his journey through free and open space, which he consequently refers to as “volja”—“na vole”, the mcyri has a number of very intense emotional experiences. These are first of all the revelation of the magnificence of the universe (VI), the recollection of scenes from his childhood (VII) and the perception of his unity with nature (IX). Another deeply moving moment during free life outside the monastery are feelings of love for a Georgian girl he watches secretly while she fetches water from the river (XII, XIII).

During his second night of wandering, the novice gets lost in a dark wood, which bears resemblance to a mythological forest:¹³

Vsi lis byl, vicnyj lis кrugоm,
Strasnij i gusi кazdyj cas;
I milliоnоm cirnyk glaz
Smоtrila nоci timnоta
Sкvоzs vitvi кazdоgо кusta …

(XV)

In this terrible and frightening place another experience is in store for him, the encounter with a wild animal, which he kills heroically in a life-or-death struggle (XVI, XVII, XVIII). With a final effort the mortally wounded young man manages to find his way out of the forest. Disillusioned he recognizes the site of the monastery and realizes with despair that his struggle for freedom has been futile. His last wish is for a look at his beloved Caucasus so that he may die at least in a spiritual reunion with his homeland.

5. ON THE STRUCTURE OF SPACE IN ‘MCYRI’

5.1. SETTING

Apart from the brief information in the first stanza about the topographical and socio-historical circumstances of the events in ‘Mcyri’, the setting of the story is extremely vague and described only in some very general terms. This lack of topographical details may be a peculiarity of the genre. The precision in the Caucasian prose stories of A. A. Bestužev-Marlinskij¹⁴ is, for instance, striking in comparison with the nearly total lack of indications concerning time and place in the lyrical verse tale of Lermontov (or Puškin).

The information in stanza I on the location of the monastery at the confluence of the two rivers and a vague reference to the date of union between Georgia and Russia are the only concrete details about the setting of the ‘story’. And even these details are conspicuously absent in the mcyri's own account of his three days' wandering. Whereas the auctorial introduction gives us at least some information about time and place, the mcyri himself seems to be entirely ignorant about his whereabouts. The impression arises that he is in a kind of trance during his wanderings and that he therefore does not notice (and does not care) where he really is. This circumstance may be seen as a psychological explanation of the way in which the hero describes his surroundings. The mountains are designated only very generally as “zubcy dalekich gor”, “skaly”, “gornye chrebty”, “veršiny cepi” (only twice as “Kavkaz”), he mentions a river—“ručej”, “potok”, but no proper name, a hamlet with two humble huts—“sakli”, and a wood with archetypic features—“večnyj les”, “temnyj les”.

This almost schematic abstraction in the outlining of the natural surroundings leads to a number of cliche formulations, a stylistic aspect which can be generally connected with secondary style literature. An example of this is the circumstance that the “rodina” or motherland, the place on which all the young man's striving and attention are focussed, is situated in the East: “Smotrel vzdychaja na vostok” (II), “K vostoku napravljalo beg” (VI). How does the novice know it is to the East he must look for his native village? It could also very well be to the North, if one takes into account that the road the Russian general took to Tiflis probably runs North-South.¹⁵

Another aspect of the romantic convention is an anthropomorphic description of nature (cf. also van Baak 1984: 370, 372). The following passage is but one of the many examples of personified nature to be found in ‘Mcyri’:

Vnizu glubоко pоdо mnоj
Pоtок, usilinnyj grоzоj,
Sumil, i sum igо glukоj
Sirdityk sоtni gоlоsоv
Pоdоbilsy. Kоty biz slоv,
Mni vnytin byl tоt razgоvоr,
Nimоlcnyj rоpоt, vicnyj spоr
S uprymоj grudоy кamnij;

(X)

5.2.

In ‘Mcyri’ two cultural systems are contrasted, the world of the monks of the monastery, an enclosed and static community, and the free natural world outside, inhabited by the mountaineers, which is the young man's homeland and represents open and dynamic space.

This contrast is effectuated through the person of the romantic hero, the mcyri, whom we may call the dynamic element in a static world. It is part of the romantic code that he will remain an ‘outsider’, notwithstanding all the efforts to make him part of the system.

In the second stanza of the introduction the narrator describes the hero in well-known, romantic terms, as a lonely, melancholy stranger:

Nо, cuzd ribycisкik utik,
Snacala bigal оn оt vsik,
Brоdil bizmоlvin, оdinок,
Smоtril vzdykay na vоstок,
Tоmim niysnоy tоsкоj
Pо stоrоni svоij rоdnоj.
Nо pоsli к plinu оn privyк,
Stal pоnimatj cuzоj yzyк,

(II)

We may, therefore, conclude that from the point of view of the narrator the mcyri is perceived as a Byronic hero, “on—čužoj”—he is a stranger. The way the narrator refers to the hero emphasizes this strangeness. The young man is not given any proper name, instead he is called “mcyri”, a word with a strange, exotic connotation, which underscores the fact that the hero is ‘different’. The feeling of being a stranger is also expressed by the mcyri himself: “ja—čužoj”—I am a stranger.

Я vidil u drutik
Otciznu, dоm druzij, rоdnyk
а u siby ni nakоdil.

(IV)

It is important to understand that this alienation means an estrangement from his own world as well. The mcyri's tragedy lies in the fact that he is an outsider in relation to both worlds. This truth is revealed to him at the end of his journey, when he finds himself again in the proximity of the monastery walls, when he realizes that he has returned to his prison:

I smutnо pоnyl y tоgda,
Ctо mni na rоdinu slida
Ni prоlоzits uz niкоgda.

(XX)

Da, zasluzil y zribij mоj!
Mоgucij коns, v stipi cuzоj,
Plоkоgо sbrоsiv sidокa,
Na rоdinu izdaliкa
Najdit prymоj i кratкij puts …
Ctо y prid nim?

(XXI)

In spite of the mcyri's initial feeling of unity with nature (IX), he now comes to realize his human shortcomings. He lacks the intuition and keen sensory perception of animals (the horse), that would lead him home. Thus the images in this passage stress once again his isolation and exclusion (from nature and the animal world, and from home).

5.3.

The confrontation between the two cultural systems in ‘Mcyri’ is brought about by three important spatial oppositions:

• a. ‘inside vs. outside’ or ‘closed vs. open’ space,
• b. a vertical spatial orientation,
• c. ‘proximity vs. distance’.

5.3.1. CONFINEMENT VS. FREEDOM

Though in fact the young man is not kept as a prisoner, he views his life inside those monastery walls as captivity—“žil v plenu” (III); “I ja, kak žil, v zemle čužoj / Umru rabom i sirotoj” (IV)—and himself as a hostage and slave.

It is noteworthy that in the introduction, i.e. seen from the point of view of the narrator, this same monastery is not at all conceived negatively. On the contrary, the narrator speaks of the protective walls—“v stenach / Chranitel'nych ostalsja on / Iskusstvom družeskim spasen” (II)—whereas the mcyri calls these same walls gloomy—“Ja vyros v sumračnych stenach”—and the atmosphere inside stuffy—“ot kelij dušnych”. The images of the monastery as a prison and the young man as a captive are favourite ones in Romanticism.¹⁶ Lermontov himself, for instance, used them in his earlier verse tale ‘Bojarin Orša’ (1835). In this tale the novice Arsenij was really kept as a prisoner in a monastery, so that the place was rightly designated as a prison.

Before the escape the notion of enclosure is also attributed to the world outside the monastery walls: “Temnyj les / Tjanulsja po goram krugom” (II). This description intensifies the notion of enclosure.

During his wanderings through free and open space, the mcyri remembers his confinement. He explains his escape in the following famous words: “Uznat', dlja voli il' tjur'my / Na ètot svet rodimsja my” (VIII).

When the young man eventually breaks out of this enclosed, protecting, yet passionless and dull world, it is in search of his “rodina”, of a world of agitation and danger, in other worlds of ‘real life’.

The image of “rodina” is, however, a rather complex and complicated one. It appears to be constituted by two sub-images, in the first place the actual home, the house of his father (“otcovskij dom”), the village where he was born and where his relatives and friends still live (“milych bližnich i rodnych”)—the novice recollects blurred memories of this place in stanza VII—, and in the second place the free world of fighting and trouble (“mir trevog i bitv”) governed by “volja dikaja” and symbolized in the tempest—“groza”.

V tоt cudnyj mir trivоg i bitv,
Gdi v tucak prycutsy sкaly,
Gdi lydi vоlsny кaк оrly.

(III)

Both images merge in the mcyri's mind:

Sgоnyl vidinsy snоv zivyk
Prо milyk bliznik i rоdnyk,
Prо vоly diкuy stipij,
Prо ligкik, bisinyk коnij,
Prо bitvy cudnyi miz sкal,
Gdi vsik оdin y pоbizdal! …

(XX)

Throughout his account, the world of his fathers the free mountaineers, the fighting and bravery occur as favourable notions as opposed to the calm and peaceful, but at the same time apathetic world of the monks. The world outside is filled with elements alien to the inside world, such as the storm and struggling, the heat of the day, affections and fears. As the mcyri relates his secret nightly escape, this contrast is presented in expressive terms:

I v cas nоcnоj, uzasnyj cas,
Kоgda grоza pugala vas,
Kоgda, stоlpgss pri altari,
Vy niц lizali na zimli,
Я ubizal. O, y кaк brat
Obnytssy s burij byl by rad!
Glazami tuci y slidil,
Ruкоy mоlniy lоvil …
Sкazi mni, ctо srids etik stin
Mоgli by dats vy mni vzamin
Tоj druzby кratкоj, nо zivоj,
Miz burnym sirdцim i grоzоj? …

(VIII)

Finally, at the end of his ramblings the novice returns to his point of departure, the wrong track has in fact led him round in a circle. At this moment the theme of captivity is reintroduced—the return to the prison—and the opposition of ‘interiority vs. exteriority’, between open or outer space and closed or inside space regains importance. These are his words on returning to the monastery:

I strasnо bylо mni, pоnyts
Ni mоg y dоlgо, ctо оpyts
Virnulsy y к tyrsmi mоij;

(XX)

In the last stanzas the contrast between an inside and an outside world shifts from the direct, spatial level to the metaphorical level.

Na mni picats svоy tyrsma
Ostavila … Taкоv цvitок
Timnicnyj: vyrоs оdinок
I blidin оn miz plit syryk,
I bоlgо listsiv mоlоdyk
Ni raspusкal, vsi zdal lucij
Zivitillsnyk. I mnоgо dnij
Prоslо, i dоbray ruкa
Picalsy trоnulass цvitкa,
I byl оn v sad pirinisin,
V sоsidstvо rоz. Sо vsik stоrоn
Dysala sladоsts bytiy …
Nо ctо z? Idva vzоsla zary,
Palysij luc ii оbzig
V tyrsmi vоspitannyj цvitок …

(XXI)

The novice is compared to a pale and weak indoor flower, unaccustomed to the sun but desperately longing for its rays. When the flower is finally transplanted to the garden, it appears to be non-resistant to the heat of the sunlight and fades away.

The simile is in a way the psychological explanation of the mcyri's failure in search of his “rodina” and his premature death. The monastery has left its mark on him, he says. It is therefore not an exterior obstacle but an interior barrier that prevents him from finding the right road. Thus, an inner and an outer world are contrasted once more, now on the mental level. The conflict of the mcyri with the surrounding world is basically a problem of his inner self.

5.3.2. ON VERTICALITY

The spatial structure of the narrative poem ‘Mcyri’ is to a considerable degree dominated by a vertical orientation. This is of course a result of the geological formation of the natural surroundings and therefore by its very nature a constant feature of the literary Caucasus. The notion of verticality permeates every description of surrounding space. The world seems to equilibrate between steep cliffs above and deep foaming rivers below.

Verticality is, however, also a feature of secondary styles more in general.

Vertical modelling of the conflict space supports the previously mentioned incommensurability of the conflicting worlds in secondary systems.

(van Baak 1983:35)

(Cf. the vertical modelling of space in Gogol's ‘Nevskij prospekt’ [Hansen Löve 1990].)

In contrast to a horizontal modelling of conflict space, which is typical of primary style periods such as Realism, and in which a neutralization of the opposition between the juxtaposed models of the world can be reached (Döring and Smirnov 1980: 20 and van Baak 1983: 34), vertically opposed cultural systems are in principle irreconcilable.

In ‘Mcyri’ the two cultural systems are opposed along the axis of verticality, the world the boy originates from, somewhere high up in the mountains as an idealized and never actually reached land and the monastery down in the valley near the two rivers. The two worlds are contrasted as early as stanza II, when the narrator starts his account with the following words: “Odnaždy russkij general, / Iz gor k Tiflisu proezžal”, thereby effectuating a contrast between height (mountains) and depth (Tiflis) (North and South, nature and civilization are equally contrasted in this clause).

The vertical spatial orientation also determines the typical behaviour of the novice during his three days outside the monastery walls, characterized by downward and upward movement. The descent and the lower region are often connected with water:

Mni stalо strasnо; na кray
Grоzysij bizdny y lizal,
Gdi vyl, кrutyss, sirdityj val;
Tuda vili stupini sкal;
Nо lisszlоj duk pо nim sagal,
Kоgda, nizvirzinnyj s nibis,
V pоdzimnоj prоpasti isciz.

(X)

It would be erroneous to interpret the lower region only as negative, as a result of this rather mysterious passage. Water also satisfies the hero's thirst, the meaning of depth is therefore ambiguous:

Tоgda к pоtокu s vysоty,
Dirzass za gibкii кusty,
S plity na plitu y, кaк mоg,
Spusкatssy nacal. […]
Liss tоlsко y s кrutyk vysоt
Spustilsy, svizists gоrnyk vоd
Pоviyla navstricu mni.

(XII)

The motif of the water returns at the end of the tale, in a delirium the mcyri sees himself at the bottom of a river—and not on top of a mountain!—where a little golden fish tempts him with promises of love and peace: “Kazalos' mne, / Čto ja ležu na vlažnom dne / Glubokoj rečki” (XXIII).

A very significant moment is the climbing of a tree in a fit of panic:

Я stal vlizats na diriva;
Nо dazi na кray nibis
Vsi tоt zi byl zubcatyj lis.
Tоgda na zimly y upal;

(XV)

This scene can be interpreted as a metaphor of the hero's struggle, the downfall as a symbol for the impossibility to reach the goal and to realize his dream.

All the images of descent and depth are contrasted with the height of the mountains. The mcyri's last wish before his death is a view at the Caucasian mountains:

Ottuda vidin i Kavкaz!
Byts mоzit, оn s svоik vysоt
Privit prоsalsnyj mni prislit.

(XXVI)

Up to the very last moment, the young man keeps longing and trying to reach his homeland. Physically he can not realize this wish because of the division of the world into two incompatible, vertically juxtaposed parts.

5.3.3. DISTANT VS. NEAR

The other important modelling parameter in ‘Mcyri’ is the spatial opposition ‘proximity vs. distance’. At certain points this opposition is connected with the notion of verticality. Especially the second member of the opposition, ‘distance’, is accentuated and plays a decisive role in establishing the world picture. As a typical romantic hero the novice longs for his homeland, for freedom and a life full of passions and struggles. His only desire in life is to take a look at this remote land of his dreams:

Я znal оdnоj liss dumy vlasts,
Odnu—nо plaminnuy strasts:
Ona, кaк cirvs, vо mni zila,
Izgryzla dusu i sоzgla.
Ona micty mоi zvala
Ot кilij dusnyk i mоlitv
V tоt cudnyj mir trivоg i bitv,
Gdi v tucak prycutsy sкaly,
Gdi lydi vоlsny, кaк оrly.

(III)

The novice projects all his ideals onto somewhere ‘distant’, “dal'nie polja”, high up in the mountains, so high that you can almost touch the clouds.

Vdali y vidil sкvоzs tuman,
V snigak, gоrysik кaк almaz,
Sidоj, nizyblimyj Kavкaz,
I bylо sirdцu mоimu
Ligко, ni znay pоcimu.
Mni tajnyj gоlоs gоvоril,
Ctо niкоgda i y tam zil,

(VI)

However, the paradox and the tragedy of the mcyri lie in the fact that he fails to recognize the world outside the monastery as the land of freedom and struggles he was actually looking for. The world he is entitled to live in for three blissful days matches the world of his dreams: “Ty chočeš' znat' čto videl ja / Na vole?—Pyšnye polja,” (VI). He finds an earthly paradise: “Krugom menja cvel božij sad” (XI). And the encounter with the Georgian girl offers the possibility of a life of love and friendship, maybe even relatives and a family of his own. The romantic hero, however, rejects this opportunity:

V znaкоmоj saкli оgоniк
Tо tripital, tо snоva gas:
Na nibisak v pоlnоcnyj cas
Taк gasnit yrкay zvizda!
Kоtilоss mni … nо y tuda
Vzоjti ni smil.

(XIV)

Once the ‘distant’ ideals have come ‘nearby’ the romantic heart begins to long for still farther places:

[…] Я цils оdnu,
Prоjti v rоdimuy stranu,
Imil v dusi,

(XIV)

Connected with the motif of the search or quest is the motif of the road. The path that could lead the young man home is a rather complicated one. At first he does not seem to know at all where he is going:

Bizal y dоlgо—gdi, кuda,
Ni znay! ni оdna zvizda
Ni оzaryla trudnyj puts.

(IX)

After the episode with the Georgian girl the path appears clear and easy, but only for a short while:

I vоt dоrоgоy prymоj
Pustilsy, rоbкij i nimоj.
Nо sкоrо v glubini lisnоj
Iz vidu gоry pоtiryl
I tut s puti sbivatssy stal.

(XIV)

The spatial opposition ‘far-near’ is also important in the modelling of affections. Metaphors of nature represent the mcyri's loneliness, his remoteness from other humans:

Я vidil grudy timnyk sкal
Kоgda pоtок ik razdilyll,
I dumy ik y ugadal:
Mni bylо svysi tо danо!
Prоstirty v vоzduki davnо
Obhytsy кaminnyi ik,
I zazdut vstrici кazdyj mig;
Nо dni bigut, bigut gоda—
Im ni sоjtitssy niкоgda!

(VI)

At other moments, in the perception of the novice nature around him is filled with images of friendship, fellowship and unity (“Nedaleko, v prochladnoj mgle, / Kazalos', prirosli k skale / Dve sakli družnoju četoj;” [XIII]), images that constantly remind him of his own solitude.

5.4.

The problem of conflicting worldviews can also be connected with the epigraph of ‘Mcyri’. Lermontov took a line from the first book of Samuel: “Vkušaja, vkusich malo meda i se az umiraju”. Since no real honey is found in the story, we must look for a symbolical meaning of the biblical verse. The quotation speaks of a transgression (of a prohibition of eating) for which the offender must pay with his life.

With regard to the thematics of ‘Mcyri’ the honey can be understood as a symbol of freedom (cf. also Maksimov 1959: 267). The epigraph therefore refers to the mcyri's transgression, his crossing of the border when he leaves the monastery and tastes the smell of freedom. And for this breaking of the law he must die, a judgement he seems to accept without protest.

Therefore, this epigraph seems to suggest the existence of yet another point of view, a moral and ethical standard that is superior to the worldviews in the story as such, to which ultimately everything and everybody must submit, even the romantic hero, the eternal outsider.

6. CONCLUSION

In the light of a metaphorical reading of ‘Mcyri’, the novice's quest for his lost homeland can be understood as a search for his self. The journey represents a growing self-knowledge which culminates in the understanding that he will never reach ‘utopia’. In this respect, in Lermontov's last verse tale the seeds of later nineteenth-century psychological Realism are already present.

Apart from this, the analysis of the structure of space in ‘Mcyri’ and the worldviews connected with it, demonstrate some of the typical secondary-style features of this poem. A particular dualism determines the ‘kartina mira’, resulting in a bipartition of literary space. Contrasts play a crucial role in the modelling of the world and the establishing of meaning. Apart from the spatial contrasts discussed in this article, other oppositions such as those between day and night, heat and cold, sleep and wake, life and death are of great importance.

‘Mcyri’ is one of the many works of romantic literature in which the romantic hero—probably the strongest exponent of the romantic code—seeks to overcome this division of the world but comes to grief.

In pursuit of his goal, in search of the ‘svoj’ among the ‘čužoj’ the novice perishes. His failure proves the irreconcilability of ‘this’ world and the ‘other’ world, which lies at the basis of so many secondary-style works of art.

Notes

1. The shortcomings of this otherwise useful theory will be discussed at another occasion.

2. “‘Vtoričnye stili’ mysljat svoe kak čužoe”, leading to a fundamental ‘otčuždenie’—alienation. Cf. Döring and Smirnov 1980: 2.

3. An example of this North-South orientation is Lermontov's famous translation from Heine: “Na severe dikom stoit odinoko”.

4. Easy access to contiguous colonial possessions was to make of the Caucasus, the Crimea and Bessarabia, […] exotic topoi unparalleled in any other European variant of Romanticism.

   (Austin 1984: 233)

5. Foreign words from local languages in these romantic tales and stories emphasize the exotic on the lexical level.

6. These could be called ‘echos from Rousseau’:

   оtdalinnyj кraj, nasilyysij igо pirvоbytnyj narоd, yvlyliss цilsy bigstva i sкitalscistva цintralsnоgо pirsоnaza. Iminnо tam strimilsy оn najti (i v tоj ili drugоj miri nakоdil) vоplоsinii vytisnyimyk цivilizaцiij, nizamutninnyk idialоv Prirоdy.

   (Mann 1976: 43)

7. It is of interest to note that by 1841 Lermontov began to distance himself from the romantic depiction of the Caucasus. In Geroj nasšego vremeni, which stands as a Janus face at the convergence of Romanticism and Realism, one may read:

   Izbavlyy vas оt оpisaniy gоr, оt vоzglasоv, коtоryi nicigо ni vyrazayt, оt кartin, коtоryi nicigо ni izоbrazayt, оsоbinnо dly tik, коtоryi tam ni byli, i оt staticisкik zamicanij, коtоryk risitilsnо niкtо citats ni stanit.

   However, in the same book the reader may still encounter the kind of romantic descriptions, rejected so ironically in this passage.

8. Cf. on this subject Maksimov (1959: 259 ff.). Nineteenth-century critics like Belinskij, Gercen and Ogarev (ibid.: 273-274), of which especially the latter two were known for their social and political commitment, stressed the symbolical meaning of Lermontov's work. They regarded him as a realist writer, who portrayed his own generation and the political situation of Russia in the 1830s. They interpreted the mcyri mainly as a rebellious, protesting hero and declared the themes of prison and freedom to be the central ideas of the poem.

9. According to Maksimov (1959: 237) it would be more appropriate to rank ‘Mcyri’ (1839) after ‘Demon’, which was almost entirely writen 1838 (and only subsequently completed in 1841). Consequently ‘Mcyri’ should be regarded as the last of the great romantic ‘poèmas’.

10. Cf. Boris Èjchenbaum's words:

    ‘Mцyri’ ni yvlyitsy nоvym zanrоm i ni оtкryvait sоbоj nоvоgо puti. Naоbоrоt—etо pоslidnii slоvо, itоg razvitiy russкоj liricisкоj pоemy, pоglоsaysij v sibi оpyty Zuкоvsкоgо, Kоzlоva, Pоdоlinsкоgо i dr.

    (1987:217)

11. Cf. Žirmunskij's ‘Bajron i Puškin’ (1970 [1924]).

12. References will be made by indicating the stanza in question with Roman numerals.

13. Cf. on this wood: Maksimov 1959: 292-293.

14. The reader could very well, so to say, imitate the journeys of heroes like Ammalat-Bek or Mulla-Nur.

15. Austin (1984: 242) explains the occurrence of the term ‘East’ in Russian literature as an influence of western European romantic terminology.

16. Byron's ‘Prisoner of Chillon’, Puškin's ‘Kavkazskij plennik’ and ‘Uznik’ are well-known examples. Austin (1984) gives an interesting account of the source of this theme.

Bibliography

Austin, P. M.

1984 ‘The Exotic Prisoner in Russian Romanticism’. Russian Literature XVI-III.

Baak, J. J. van

1983 ‘On Space in Russian Literature, a Diachronic Problem’. Dutch Contributions to the Ninth International Congress of Slavists (Ed. A. G. F. van Holk). Amsterdam.

1984 ‘Continuity and Change: Some Remarks on World Pictures in Russian Literature’. Signs of Friendship to Honour A. G. F. van Holk. Amsterdam.

Burkhart, D.

1987 ‘Mythoide Verfahren der Welt-Generierung in Andrej Belyjs Roman “Peterburg”’. Wiener Slawistischer Almanach, Sonderband 20. Wien.

Döring, J. R., Smirnov, I. P.

1980 ‘Realizm: diachroničeskij podchod’. Russian Literature VIII-I.

Èjchenbaum, B. M.

1987 O literature. Moskva. (Originally: Lermontov, Opyt istoriko-literaturnoj ocenki. Leningrad 1924.)

Hansen Löve, K.

1990 ‘The Structure of Space in “Nevskij prospekt”’. Semantic Analysis of Literary Texts (Eds. E. de Haard, T. Langerak, W. G. Weststeijn). Amsterdam.

Lermontov, M. Ju.

1989 Polnoe sobranie stichotvorenji, v dvuch tomach. Biblioteka poèta. Bol'šaja serija. Leningrad.

Lichačev, D. S.

1973 Razvitie russkoj literatury X-XVII vekov (èpochi i stili). Leningrad.

Lotman, Ju. M.

1968 ‘Problema chudožestvennogo prostranstva v proze Gogolja’. Trudy po russkoj i slavjanskoj filologii, XI. Literaturovedenie. Tartu.

1971 Struktura chudožestvennogo teksta. Providence.

1979 ‘The Origin of Plot in the Light of Typology’. Poetics Today, I, 1-2.

Maksimov, D.

1959 Poèzija Lermontova. Leningrad.

Mann, Ju. V.

1976 Poètika russkogo romantizma. Moskva.

Žirmunskij, V. M.

1970 [1924] Bajron i Puškin. München.