Document Type: 
Document Number (FOIA) /ESDN (CREST): 
Release Decision: 
Original Classification: 
Document Page Count: 
Document Creation Date: 
December 23, 2016
Document Release Date: 
June 17, 2014
Sequence Number: 
Case Number: 
Publication Date: 
May 1, 1959
Content Type: 
PDF icon CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2.pdf9.87 MB
Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 � Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 � ������111. �t��� 44' - THE CREATIVE ARTIST IN A fAMMUNIST SOCIETY Compiled and Edited By HENRY Y. BURKE May, 1959 STAT Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 A TABLE OF CONTENTS THE SOVIET UNION I. The Artist In a Monolothic State, by George Gibian 2. The Puzzling Theory of Socialist Realism, by GI eb Struve 3. The Artist's Role As Defined By Communist Leaders, by Henry V. Burke 4. Post-Stalin Literary Thaw Ends With New Controls, by Vera Al exandrova 5. Communism's Single Standard for Literature And The Arts, by Arturo Valente 6. Musical Censorship Poses Problems For Communist Officials, by Marcel Grilli 7. Pasternak's Fellow Authors Speak Their Minds, by Henry V. Burke 8. Dr. Zhivago "Has No Interest For Us," by Arturo Valente 9. Why Khrushchev Distrusts The Soviet Intellectuals, by James H. Billington 10. The Lesson of Pasternak, by Ignazio Shone I I. Pasternak's "Dr. Zhivago", by Max Hayward EASTERN EUROPE I. Gyorgy Lukacs: Hungary's Heretical Marxist, by Paul Landy 2. Let The Audience Decide, by Janos Torok 3. Literary Omens In Eastern Europe, by Paul Landy 4. Satellite Theatergoers Rebel Against Boredom, by Paul Landy III ASIA I. Tashkent's Meaning For The Writers of Asia and Africa (From a Report by Khrishnalal Shridharani) 2. Revolutionary Writers In Conformist China, by A. J. Roy, 3. Peiping's Ideology Of Literature, by Nils Stefansson 4. Ho Chi Minh's Cultural Problem: individualism in Art, by Henry V. Burke 5. Communist China Revealed In Her Art, by Peggy Durdin Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17 : CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 � sfJX:1,1,4t. THE SOVIET UNION waltgaggleMliffL "The highest social purpose of literature and the arts is to arouse the people to a struggle for new successes in the building of Communism." -- Nikita S. Khrushchev Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release @ 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Ap roved for Release 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 -� � SAt.e:ZE.-%:: -7-;:';:t767.-%;i� "����4 THE ARTIST IN A MONOLITHIC STATE By George Gibian (Mr. Gibian is an associate professor in the Russian Department of Smith College, Northampton, Mass.) PART I The Price of Success Three of the Soviet Union's most famous modern composers, Dmitri Shostakovich (left), Aram Khachaturian (center) and Sergei Prokofiev (right) experienced considerable difficulty in satisfying Communist officials of their artistic faithfulness to party objectives. Branded as "anti�popular formalists" in a 1948 musical purge, the three were rehabilitated in 1958. For Prokofiev, who died in 1953, the party's changed attitude came five years too late. This portrait study of Boris Pasternak suggests the qualities of quiet scholar� ship, poetic reflection and artistic integrity which have helped to make the famous poet and novelist a highly controversial figure in the Soviet Union. The young Soviet writer, actor, or musician who at the thres- hold of his career stops to consider what his professional future may hold in store for him is likely to be struck with awe by the tremendous gap separating the possibilities of great fame and great failure. The fact that two very divergent fates face a budding artist does not seem in itself very surprising. Is there any country in the world where the difference between the extremes of success and failure are not very pronounced? The real peculiarities of the Soviet situation lie in the kind of failure or success, in the circumstances and the ways in which either may come about. Let us first consider the most favorable possible course of development for a Soviet writer. His works, whether novels, plays, or poems, are published in editions running into hundreds of thousands, some- times even millions of copies. They may be published first in installments in a literary monthly, perhaps in October (Oktyabr) or The New World (Novy Mir, in exceptional cases even in the pages of Pravda or The LitevEy Newspaper (Literaturnaya Gazeta.) His writings are translated into the npriaccified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release 50-Yr 2014/06/17 : CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 � ,koleGels Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Ap roved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 � -- STAT TBE ARTIST IN A MONOLITHIC STATE (Part I ) - 2 various languages of the Soviet Union--Ukrainian, Georgian, Armenian, and many others. His name is known to millions of his fellow citizens; he is admired and revered. He may become a candidate for the annual Lenin Prize (which has replaced the former Stalin Prizes) and may even win one of them. The material rewards of such a successful writer's life match his fame and honor. He is paid substantial royalties (based, oddly enough, according to the old Russian system, on the length of his work) every time his work is printed, whether in a magazine, as a book, or in translation. He can keep almost the entire amount he is paid, for income tax in the Soviet Union is extremely low, seldom exceeding ten or fifteen percent. He is very likely to be assigned a small but comfortable apartment in Mos- cow in one of the large apartment houses owned by the Union of Writers, where he pays a very low rent and has the pleasure of living in close proximity to numerous colleagues and friends-- or perhaps rivals. He may also purchase or build a dacha, a country home, again very likely in settlement some miles outside the capital of the republic where or, most likely of all in the case of an established writer, at the writers' colony close to Moscow, for the advantages of life an artists' he lives, Peredelkino, in the cspital attract an even greater percentage of Russian writers than Paris draws of the painters and sculptors of France. The successful, favored writer may be one of the few Soviet own- ers of a private automobile. When he wishes, he may receive a putyovka (coupons entitling him to free or reduced rates for travel and hotel accommo- dations) to Black Sea and other resorts. If he plans to write a novel about a remote section of the country, he will be supported during months of stay and research in the region. THE ARTIST IN A MONOLITHIC STATE (Part I) �3 Is there any drawback -- any set of conditions to be fulfilled -- if he is to enjoy this enviable mixture of honors and material rewards? Is anything necessary other than an unusual share of artistic talent? Unfortunately,a great deal. In order to climb to and remain at the zenith of a Soviet artistic areeer, it is necessary to stay in the good favors of the Union of Writers -- and of the Communist Party, whose instrument the Union of Writers is. One has to keep writing in a manner pleasing to the controlling officials. Since 1934, the one and only liter- ary method or style permissible has been the vague and amorphous "socialistic realism." (Between 1928 and 1932, the slogan had been "social command," a somewhat clearer description of the desired attitude towards writing.) Socialistic realism has been described by many personar;es, ranging from Stalin to Gorky, --ithout ever being completely clarified. At the Second Writers' Congress, in December 1954, tne author Fedin complained that foreign Communist writers were asking for an exact definition of social- istic realism. It is impossible to give them as simple an answer as they seem to want, Fedin declared. They should not "expect a recipe" which would read something like "Take fifty parts of positive hero, five parts of negative hero, one part social contradiction, one part inspired romanti- cism, one hundred parts distilled water." The only positive, but hardly satisfying, suggestion he was able to supply was to study "the best works" of various Soviet writers and imitate them. A In actual practice socialistic realism has consisted of taking contemporary subjects (often specific areas of Soviet life in which the Party felt some change or improvement was necessary: the production of 0 flIcifid in Part Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17 � CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 \. Declassified in Part- Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT THE ARTIST IN A MONOLITHIC STATE (Part I) 4 cement, the cultivation of the "virgin lands" of Kazakhstan, or the organi- zation of an electric engineering research institute,) and treating them properly. The proper manner of treatment means concentrating not on the individual aspects, but on the social, on the masses, on the collective; taking an optimistic, cheerful view of Soviet life, rather than being nega- tive and critical; and writing in a manner intelligible to the masses, with- out excessive attention to form -- in other words, avoiding experimentation, anything modernistic and smacking of the "decadent, bourgeois," and con- centrating on a plain, "realistic," conservative, conventional method of narration. To know just what subjects, attitudes towards them, and manner of treatment are permissible or not permissible, encouraged or prohibited (for the Party line shifts here as in other areas) is one of the major and most delicate tasks of a Soviet artist. Some of the most prominent ones '(and most consistently favored ones) have been those who, like Konstantine Simonov or Ilya Ehrenburg, have had a keen nose and a good sense of timing in sensing a change of line almost before it had occurred and the docility to conform to what they felt was in the air. Those who either did not catch on or who ,were temperamentally unsuited for the task of following every twist of the line � Vladimir Dudintsev, Margarita Aliger, Boris Pasternak, and others -- have been chastised or silenced. If we looked only at what has happened to some unfortunate prtists in Soviet Russia, we might wonder why any young man or woman in Russia de- cides to become a playwright, film director, or author -- it must take great blindness, gullibility, or courage. Pasternak, the whole world now knows, � THE ARTIST IN A MONOLITHIC STATE (Part I) - 5 has been insulted and threatened after he received the Nobel Prize for a novel which has never been published in Russia; others have been attacked. in a manner typified by the following description applied by a critic to the imaginative Zamyatin: "This adept at mimicry and falsification whose whole conception of life was culled from literary rpmi niscences and bore no relation whatsoever to reality, left no trace in literature and has been completely forgotten by the present generation of Soviet readers." The characters of the satirist Mikhail Zoshchenko have been called by the same critic, Alexander Anikst, "misshapen caricatures" and his work in general "a slanderous portrayal of Soviet people as primitive be- ings with philistine tastes and manners. . . . Zoshchenko had a trades- man's attitude towards life and wallowed in the mire of petty everyday affairs and could not rise to the heights required to paint an extensive canvas of life with a realistic picture of its typical characters and manifestations." Some writers, like Isaac Babel, it is now admitted in Soviet Russia, were arrested, sent to work camps, and even executed. End Part I / nprlassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release @ 50-Yr 2014/06/17 � CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 .17 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Co .y Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 ez� flarlaccT � ' ;".� � � st, STAT ''''-�^��-:�-���;:ii.t..f.Z`t- � t. -� . � �-�� 1. � V. THE ARTIST IN A MONOLITHIC STATE BY George Gibian PART II Methods of State Control There are three main ways in which the Soviet Communist Party makes clear to the U.S.S.R.'s artists how they should write, paint, and compose. The first way is by means of general pronouncements of guiding principles. Congresses of writers or painters are held, at which some of the leaders of the particular artists' union make theoretical state- ments; speeches are delivered by political figures (in 1957, for example, Khrushchev made three such speeches which were later printed and are still being quoted and pointed to as authoritative indications of principle); or authoritative articles are printed in newspapers and magazines. One such recent essay, by Y. Elsberg (in Kommunist, No. 12, 1958), is typical of these direction-setting articles. It sets down the usual chain of reasoning concerning Party control over the arts. The first premise, according to Elsberg, concerns the task of literature -- which is "to inspire the people towards new progress in building communism." The next presupposition is that it is "the policy of the Communist Party rwhich7 expresses the deepest interests of the people" and that "never before was the life of the people so full of principle, so fully intel� lectually saturated, so aware, so many sided." The conclusion follows: 41-1.-1; .11,1��'4. � L . � rt SanitizedC Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17 CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 ���111. Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT ���-.118. 1114**5. THE ARTIST IN A MONOLITHIC STATE (Part II) -2 "Therefore the Soviet writer, a faithful supporter of the Party's work, has at his disposal an infallible compass he Part/7' which helps him to orient himself correctly in the complex problems of studying and artistically representing the nation's life." This rationale for compelling writers to write cheerfully, positively, and in full obedience to the Party is strengthened by the second major means of instructing them: the picking of a handful of deterrent examples. In the lest two or three years: the whipping boys have included Vladimir Dudintsev, Margarita Auger, Alexander Yashin (for his story "The Levers,") David Granin (for his "Convictions Of One's Own,") and Semyon Kirsanov -- a list recently joined and eclipsed by Boris Pasternak. The third method is to hold out as examples works which embody the desirable characteristics the Party wishes other artists to imitate. From time to time, such hallowed masterpieces are selected, praised, ana- lyzed. Thus every artist in the country learns what he is to emulate, if he is to be in the good graces of the "political artists," the various functionaries of the unions, the aparatchiki (apparatus personnel) of the artistic bureaucracy. A recent example of such an officially approved work is Vsevolod Kochetov's The Yershov Brothers. Elsberg, in his article, betrays the ideological reasons for the special "honoring" treatment given to Kochetov's novel when he praises its hero as a "truly conscious builder of communism". and as a man who remained "politically vigilant during the months which followed the Twentieth Party Congress, when certain individ- ual unstable elements tried to interpret the decisions of the Congress in a revisionistic spirit." ft � ' THE ARTIST IN A MONOLITHIC STATE (Part II) - 3 - There are four different roads open to the Soviet artist. The first is for him to be a sincere, fanatical Communist convinced that what- ever the Party wants is truly for the best. Therefore he cheerfully follows the Party line, which most of the time coincides with his own opinions anyway. If it does not, he willingly sacrifices his personal or artistic conscience on the altar of Party discipline. Such artists are as few and usually as mediocre in their field as they are fortunate in being spared the inner conflicts of their colleagues. The second way is that of the majority of the most talented artists, who also conform to the Party's wishes, but do so grudgingly, regretting the price exacted of them,yet preferring to live comfortably and to continue working in their chosen field, with such concessions as are necessary. They paint uniformed Stalins or smiling tractor drivers, depending on the currently approved subjects, in such style as happens to be fashionable. On the side, in secrecy, they may paint entirely different subjects, in a personal manner. It was said about Gera.simov, the conformist patriarch and leader of Soviet painters, that his studio concealed scores of nudes painted in defiance of official taste, which he never tried to exhibit or sell. The third way, taken by many honest men, is silence or evasion. Rather than paint or write as they do not wish to, they leave the field of art and make their living in some other way, or turn to some politi- cally innocuous corner within their field. Thus many writers gave up "formalistic" and "subjectivistic" poetry or fiction and turned to safe biographies or historical fiction. Pasternak devoted many years to mar- velous translations of Shakespeare. Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17 : CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 � THE ARTIST IN A MONOLITHIC STATE (Part II) - 4 The fourth road, that taken by a small minority, is to follow one's artistic and civic conscience, to go against the Party dictates, to attempt to publish what one fears will be badly received, and then to defend it as long as possible. Such was the course of action of Margarita Aliger and others, particularly during the years 1956-57, when the limits of freedom were extended and blurred. Since the spring of 1957, the Party has been making a special effort to put the clock back and to show the writers that they must not exceed the bounds of the permissible. It was not content with damning certain objectionable works; it insisted on their authors' recanting and apologizing. After months of what even Russian writers called "the heroism of silence," most of the authors attacked surrendered and delivered the required apologies, by speech or letter. Typical of the pathetic, humiliating "confessions" is Margarita Aliger's: n. . . in my public work I committed a number of gross mistakes. . . . I really committed those mistakes about which Comrade Khrushchev speaks. I committed them, I persisted in them, but I understood them andlbonfessed them deliberately and con- sciously . . . Obviously I must now be much more exacting with myself, rid myself of a certain speculativeness. . . " For art and literature to be considered such an important weapon as to call for constant, top level direction (Stalin called writers "engineers of the human soul") is, to one way of looking at it, a great compliment to their power and importance. Unfortunately it brings in its train great limitations which are far from complimentary: Party con- trol, both positive (guidance, exhortation) and negative (reprimands, punishments.) The writers are the most outstanding victims, for their medium, words, refers most clearly and unequivocally to the realities of , t THE ARTIST IN A MONOLITHIC STATE (Part II) 5 STA Soviet life -- and hence courts the danger of running afoul of Party wishes. Relatively most fortunate are the composers. Some of them have occasion- ally been attacked, but as long as they avoid being too modernistic or atonal, they enjoy considerable freedom -- for when a composer declares that the subject of his suite is "Praise of Russian Reforestation," who can contradict him? Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17 CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 ��� ammag me. � STA r J, -j�ic 4 THE PUZZLING POLICY OF SOCIALIST REALISM By Gleb Struve (Mr. Struve is an associate professor in the Department of Slavic Languages and Literature at the University of California.) "Socialist realism," one of the more puzzling catch phrases of Communist policy, might be defined as the term most frequently used to describe the rules which all Soviet artists -- particularly writers -- are expected to apply in their creative undertakings. This statement, admittedly, fails to answer such questions as "what, precisely, is socialist realism?" and "what is its relation to just plain realism?" Actually, as 14e shall see, it is far from easy to evolve intelli� gent answers to questions of this sort, which may explain why the subject already has produced a voluminious and somewhat contradictory literature of its own. The formula khown as "socialist realism" is supposed to have been coined by Stalin and is said to have been first used by him at a gathering of Soviet writerein.0Jtober, 1932. One SoViet scholar drew attention to the fact that the-sarietfOrMtifti had been cited earlier in a Literaturnaya Gazeta editorial. This editorial which appeared in the issue of May 29, 1932, noted.that."The" masses afe demanding from the Vist'sVcerity, truthfulness; and reolutionary'socialist realism in the depiction of the proletarian revolution." Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17 : CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 I. Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 MOSCOW'S PUZZLING POLICY OF SOCIALIST REALISM ...61010 . ' � � � . .00 .2 The "socialist realism" formula was uidely discussed between 1932 ..and 1934, during the preparations for the first Congress of Soviet Writers, which took place in August, 1934, at Moscow. By that time socialist realism had been accepted as the guiding principle of Soviet literature ard, as such, was incorporated in the charter of the newly founded Union of Soviet Writers. In the preamble to that charter we read that the creative ideas of Soviet literature, evolved under the guidance of the �., Communist Party, "have found their main expression in the principles of socialist realism." The charter then gives this rather vague definition: "Socialist realism, being the basic method of Soviet imagi- native literature and literary criticism, demands from the art- ist a truthful, historically concrete depiction of the reality in its revolutionary development. At the same time the truth- fulness and historical concreteness of the artistic depiction of the reality must be combined with the task of ideological remolding and upbringing of the toilers in the spirit of so- Socialist realism was also said to provide the artist an ex- ceptional opportunity of showing his creative initiative, as well as "a choice of diverse forms, styles, and genres." Hundreds of articles were written, and numerous discussions held, in an attempt to lend more substance to these rather nebulous formu- lations, as well as to define the relation between socialist realism and that which was, at different times and by different people, variously described as "classical realism," "bourgeois realism," or "critical realism." 4 � MOSCOW'S PUZZLING POLICY OF SOCIALIST REALISM - 3 - The stress shifted now to one, now to another element of the above defini- tion. Much was made of the importance of depicting reality as a revolu- tionary development, and in this was seen the main difference between socialist realism and the traditional "bourgeois" realism. There was also a great deal of toying with the formula "revolutionary romanticism," which was said to be a necessary ingredient of socialist realism. This latter association was particularly dear to the heart of Maxim Gorky, who once said that revolutionary-romanticism wasreelly a pseudonym for socialist realism. This identification of socialist realism with revolutionary romanticism was combatted, however, by some writers, critics, and scholars, among them Gyorgy Lukacs, a Hungarian Communist critic and literary scholar, himself a great admirer of Gorky, who in the 1930's lived and wrote in the Soviet Union and whom Herbert Read has described as "by far the most formid- able exponent of Marxism in literary criticism." For Lukacs, who later returned to Hungary and played a not unimportant part in the intellectual fermentation which preceded that country's 1956 revolt, "revolutionary romanticism" signified a naturalistic degeneration of socialist realism, while the latter was really a logical step forward from, and an improve- ment upon, the critical realism of the nineteenth century, the realism of Balzac and Tolstoy, to whose study Lukslcs devoted most of his time. From Lukacs's interpretation of socialist realism it would follow that, fundamentally, socialist realism is a legitimate offspring of the critical realism as expressed in the European novel of the nineteenth century and continued in modern times by such writers as Thomas Mann, and Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 - - - � MOSCOW'S PUZZLING POLICY OF SOCIALIST REALISM - 4 - ���������la� that the new element or quality in it is the socialist outlOok'of its exponents.. Whether this justifies us in describing it as a new artistic method3.howevervis highly doubtful. , Even some Soviet scholars, critics: and writers have at times 1.1:Used some doubts, asking themselves whether socialibt realism should not rather be described as a philosophy of life or world outlook (mirovozzrenie, Weltanschauung).- In one of the latest Soviet pronouncements on the subject, a paper by V. Shcherbina, this view is, however, rejected. Mentioning tfiose who propose to regard socialist realism either as a totality of certain artistic means of representation or as a world outlook, he rejects both thede approaches as "onesided" and insists that 'soCialist realism is an arrtistic method. In the 1930's much of the discussion about socialist realism was -ofe-Purely scholastic, academic, often hairsplitting, nature, though at timed the political essence of the whole concept would 'break through. Thus the critic Isaac Musinov, who was later tb- bbcome one of thevictims of Zhdanoir''s witch-hunting, in 1934 offered the T:ollowing formula of socialist realism which seemed to have little to do with art: "The main object of socialist realism is the struggle foe the destruction of the world of prop erty and the triumph of socialism." As time went on, this social-political aspect of socialist realism came more and more to the fore. This was largely the result of the fact that with the principle of socialist realism came to be coupled the notion of partiynostrr or partymindedness, lir notion which can be traced back to an article by Lenin, written in 1905, about the principle of party literature. . � MOSCOW'S PUZZLING POLICY OF SOCIALIST REALISM' - STAT �5 Whether Lenin had in mind party literature in the narrow sense of the word and the conditions then prevailing in Russian life, or was visual- izing literature of the future, remains a moot point. At any rate it ao.happened that Lenin's principle of partiynost' came to br inseparahly,associated,with the principle of -socialist realism. To be a good Soviet writerr it was-no longer enough to be a socialist realist: it was necessary also to be "par,tyminded." The partymindedness of Soviet lit- erature came to be particularly stressed during the so-called Zhdanov era, that is, after World War II. It was during this period that it became in- creasingly clear that socialist realism in practice boiled dawn to the cur- rent Party line. Both in imaginativeliterature and in literary criticism and scholarship,' only that was admissible which conformed to the general line of the Party at the givth-ribtient. Rabid anti-Westernism, assertion of Soviet priority in almost ekriere�field of human endeavor, and the cult of Stalin became the salient features of a socialist-realistic work of litera- ture. When de-Stalinization get in and the cult of the individual was de- nounced, the criteria of socialist, realism were revised overnight, and many of the literary works produced between 1946 and 1953, and regarded previous- ly as models of socialist realism, were dismissed as idealized distortions of reality. A During the so-called "thaw" in Soviet literature, works like Ehrenburg's novel of that name.contained an implicit admission that social- ist realism, as understood during the post-war period, meant an inevitable decline of art:. In some Communist countries outside the U.S.S.R, writers, Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Or- Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 � ��;:j-'; �*, STAT MOSCOW'S PUZZLING POLICY OF SOCIALIST REALISM -6 and artists in general, went even further: in Poland and in Hungary the � adoption of socialist realism in the early Thirties came to be regarded as the deathknell of all true art. The result was that Soviet critics and scholars were henceforth to adopt a defensive, apologetic attitude in. the debate about socialist realism. But the principles of socialist real- ism and partymindedness were by no means abandoned. They were firmly re- asserted, as the mainstays of Soviet literature and art, by Nikita 'thrush- chev in the summer of 1957. His statements to Soviet writers and artists, widely publicized, were described by Soviet writers as "historic" and "pro- grammatic", and are now looked upon as directives which must guide the course of Soviet literature. Despite the subject's fascination for communist officials, howl- evertasatisfactory definition of socialist realism, either in theory or in practice, is still lacking. Since cultural coexistence has become part of the official policy of the Soviet government, there has been a growing tendency to try to reconcile socialist realism with the critical realism of the past (and of the present as far as non-Communist countries are con- cerned), even though at the same time Lukacs's views are being refuted as Previsionism." Let us take two typical recent pronouncements. V. Shcherbina, in a paper already quoted, writes that socialist realism must not be di- vorced from, or opposed to, critical realism, and that the cognitive and artistic value of much of contemporary non-Russian realistic literature must be fully recognized. Shcherbina is even ready to admit the existence in Soviet literature of currents other than socialist realism. He also 3 MOSCOW'S PUZZLING POLICY OF SOCIALIST REALISM - 7 ^ speaks disparagingly, in the wake of Lukacs, of "naturalistic pseudo- realism." In a recent volume of studies of socialist realism, V. Ozerov 4 also speaks of the latter as the culmination of old realism, as its successor and continuator. At the same time he comes dangerously close to admitting the purely ideological differentia of socialist realism when he describes it as "a Plealisti6-7 method fertilized by the ideas of socialism," or sees the "newness" of Soviet art in the novelty of its representational material. At times Shcherbina and Ozerov contradict each other, once more demonstrating in what confusion the whole subject is still wrapped. Thus, while Shcherbina insists that it is a fallacy to speak of the demands that socialist realism places on the artist, Ozerov writes that, instead of a long enumeration of various "characteristics" of socialist realism, it would be better to mention "the main demands which it makes upon writers, and in the first place the demand for truth, revealed and interpreted in the light of the socialist ideal and of the Communist partymindedness." What "partymindedness" in art is, no one has as yet explained satisfactorily. The elastic, adjustable nature of socialist realism as understood by Soviet literary lawgivers is best illustrated in the statements recently made by Mikhail Sholokhov, the celebrated author of And Quiet Flows the Don. 4 Last April Sholokhov spent a few days in Prague, where he was received and interviewed at the Union of Czechoslovak Writers. The interview was pub- lished in Literary News, the official weekly of the Writers' union. Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 "1-.� = ���,..� � 7 -Ihmal2M� � � ." .4;1, ^, .��� � a 15 - , .����.� Ne-� =.� , � MOSCOW'S PUZZLING POLICY OF SOCIALIST REALISM - 8- -' To the first question -- "What he thought of socialist realism?" -- Sholokhov replied as follows: "Theory is not my forte. I am just a writer. But I shall tell you a little story. Not long before his death, I met my friend Alexander Fadeyev. I asked him the same question. I asked him what would he answer if he were asked a-straightfor- ward question about the meaning of socialist realism. He said: "If someone were to ask me this, to the best of my knowledge I would have to reply: 'Devil knows what it really is.' Maybe Fadeyev was joking. If I were to answer for myself I would say that, to my mind, socialist realism is that which is in favor of the Soviet regime and is written in a simple, comprehensible, artistic language. This is not a theoretical assumption, but the experience of an author. The theoreticians are there to prop it up with their scaffolding and to drive in theoretical wedges." Sholokhov's reference to Fadeyev, who had always been one of the staunchest supporters of the Party line in literature and was regarded as -one of the meat thorough exponents of socialist realism at its best, and who committed suicide a few mogths after the debunking of Stalin, is highly significant. His own crudely simplified definition of socialist realism has an almost mocking ring. But even more irreverent was Sholokhov's answer to the next question. Asked whether he considered his own works as representative of socialist realism, Sholokhov replied: � . q' � - = � .1.,`,-",Cr STAT MOSCOW'S PUZZLING POLICY OF SOCIALIST REALISM - 9 'When you ask me this question I recall that at first my works were proclaimed by Marxist theoreticians to be those of a kulak writer; later, I became for them a 'counter-revolu- ionary' writer; while in recent years it has always been said that I have been a socialist realist all my life." It would be difficult to describe more succinctly the elastic- ity of this famous formula. It is significant that while this interview of Czech writers with Sholokhov was reprinted in the official Polish Communist paper (Trybuna Ludu), not a word of it was breathed in the Soviet press. Soviet critics, on the other hand, are fond of quoting the state- ment which Sholokhov made in his speech at the Second Congress of Soviet Writers in 1954, when he said: "...our enemies abroad say that we write at the dictate of the Party. Things are somewhat different; each one of us writes at the dictate of his heart, but our hearts belong to the Party and to our people whom we serve by our art." One may only guess at the degree of conviction in Sholok- hov's remark. Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT THE ARTIST'S ROLE, AS DEFINED BY COMMUNIST LEADERS Communist have made no secret The theme first consideration constantly stressed of intellectuals. "The pringiple of party literature," V.I. Lenin once declared, By Henry V. Burke leaders, from Lenin to Mao Tse�tung and Khrushchev, of their determination to control the creative arts. that close adherence to party doctrine must be the of writers, painters and composers, therefore, is in Communist pronouncements governing the activities "consists in the fact that not only may literature not be an instrument of gain,for individuals or groups, but also in that it may not be an individual matter at all." Instead, the Communist party's founder added, "literature must become a component part of organized, planned, unified party work." Nikita Khrushchev broadened Lenin's concept in this series of statements: "The Ilighest social purpose of literature and the arts is to arouse the,people to a struggle for new successes in the building of Communist:" �-� of the most important principles is the indissoluble con� nection of Soviet literature and art with the policy of the Communist party." r � � Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 - "'"�.:t 7 ' "Z%��71`41.1�7"?--'71.-..,!;.��.��:. = � s����:...��''',4,`:' THE ARTIST'S ROLE, AS DEFINED BY COMMUNIST LEADERS - 2 "Our people need works of literature, art and music whioh reflect the glory of labor... The me-ehod of socialist realism insures unlimited possibilities for the creation of such works." Khrushchev was particularly frank in outlining the role of news- papers and magazines in a Communist society. "We cannot let the press organs fall into unreliable lands," he asserted. "They must be in the hands of the workers that are the most loyal, most reliable, most staunch politically, and most devoted to our cause." The Chinese communist leader Mao Tse-tung has stressed that "art for art's sake, art which transcends class or party, art which stands as a bystander to, or independent of, politics" cannot be allowed to exist. "When we say literature and art follow politics," he added, "we mean class politics." President Kuo Mo-jo of the Chinese (Communist) Academy of Sciences, pointed out in 1958 that "literary style... mainly involves ideology and the ideological method." Chou Yang, vice chairman of the Chinese Communist party's central propaganda department, recently endorsed the Soviet line that literature is primarily an ideological weapon when he said: "Under the leadership of the Communist party, Chinese literature has always regarded socialist realism as the most correct principle of creation, and looked upon Soviet works as models." Communist newspapers and theoretical journals have been even more pointed in their cultural ediats. � -:�..;_':;�` � THE ARTIST'S ROLE, AS DEFINED BY COMMUNIST LEADERS - 3 "The most important task of Soviet writers," according to Bolshevik, "is to preach the ideas of Communism and to show the advantages STAT of the Socialist (Communist) system." "The form of (artistic) presentation," said the Teacher's Gazette, "as well as stylistic beauty and poetical images... must all be subordi- nate to the principles of Marxism-Leninism." "Only that artist is free in his creation," Culture and Life asserted, "who is versed in the laws of the historical development of society and who with all his heart is devoted to his people, to the Com- munist party, and to the Communist society." Pravda, not forgetting the potential influence of motion picture films, has decreed that "Soviet cinema art has not and cannot have any interests or tasks other than the interests of the state and the tasks of educating the people, and the youth particularly, in the spirit of the great ideas of Lenin and Stalin." # # # Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 ���� Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT "sk ..����11:01 � ��� -* `V. � 1' � - : � . r - � - � , � POST-STALIN LITERARY "THNU" ENDS WITH NEW CONTROLS By Vera Alexandrova (Vera Alexandrova, formerly editor-in-chief of the Chekhov Publishing House in New York, is recognized as an authority on the USSR's literary history.) The Boris Pasternak case probably has done more than anything else since the death of Stalin to dramatize and clarify the Communist Party's position on cultural matters. . This elderly Soviet poet and novelist, a symbol of stalwart individualism in the midst of censorship alla regimentation, captured the world's admiration and sympathy to a degree few writers have experienced. Pasternak's 1958 ordeal, however,*as this review will show, was merely the culmination of a chain of circumstances which began some four years before. In March, 1954, a year after Stalin's death, the Soviet magazine Znamya published a novel entitled The Thaw. This book by Ilya Ehrenlqurg was to become a rallying point for those ,seeking relief from the Communist Party's program of making Soviet literature a propaganda tool. "ThawM thus rapidly became a popplar byword and was applied to the brief post-Stalin period of relaxed .party pressure on literature during which the pent-up need of Soviet writers for greater creative free- dom unmistakably began to break through to the surface. Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 If Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT POST-STALIN LITERARY "THAW" ENDS WITH NEW CONTROLS 2 However, by the end of .the year, the Communist Party had suc- ceeded in strengthening its control and partially restoring its shaken cultural authority. This was the atmosphere in which the Second All- Union Writers Congress was held in December 1954. A faint breath of free- dom still persisted in the literary air. A new "thaw" began after Khrushchev's speech at the closed session of the 20th Communist Party Congress in February, 1956, with its shocking. exposure of Stalin's crimes. This second "thaw," which lasted more tfhan a year, was halted by the direct intervention of Khrushchev himself, who arranged two conferences with writers, artists and composers in May, 1957, and followed these up with a speech on the tasks Of literature and art at a meeting of leading Communist Party workers.' The three Khrushchev talks were reworked into a long article, "For Close Ties Between Art and Litera- ture and the Life of the People," which first appeared in the magazine Kommunist in August, 1957, and was later reprinted in all literary journals throughout the Soviet Union. Khrushchev's statements were built upon a single idea: the will of the Communist Party is the genuine expression of the will of the people; hence the "party spirit" in literature, that is, absolute adherence by writers to the party's directives, is the only expression of their true loyalty to the people. Any show of independence by a writer is an expres- sion of a hostile attitude toward the people. This decree, which was soon proclaimed to be a "party document," became Moscow's mandatory credo for all Soviet writers. A new literary freeze had begun. _ POST-STALIN LITERARY "THAW" ENDS WITH NEW CONTROLS - 3 During the second literary "thaws" which had preceded the 1957 edict by Khrushchev, there appeared an inspired novel by the young writer Vladimir Dudintsev, Not By Bread Alone. This work was serialized in the magazine Novy Mir,in August, September and October, 1956. Dudintsev's novel depicts the struggle of the talented "indi- vidualist" inventor Lopatkin, who designs a machine that is to simplify production methods and cut costs in the manufacture of metal pipes, against the inertia and bureaucracy of the Communist industrial administration. "No matter how hungry I might be," says Lopatkin, at one point, "I would always exchange my bread for a spark of faith." And because Lopatkin; does not surrender, he acquires devoted friends and emerges a victor from the unequal struggle. Both the general reader and other writers welcomed Dudintsevis novel with great enthusiasm. A meeting held at the Central Writers' Club in Moscow at the end of October, 1956, to discuss the novel was filled to overflowing. All the speakers were unanimous in their praise. Only one month later, however, people cautiously began to dis- sociate themselves from Dudintsev, who was now accused by the party of "bias in favor of individualism" and "inability to realize and appreciate the strength of the collective" (Literary Gazette, November 24; Izvestia, December 2, 1956). At the March, 1957, plenum of the Executive Committee of the Writers' Union there was no longer any trace of the initially favorable response to Not By Bread Alone. In a later comment, Dudintsev described the plight of Soviet writers as being comparable to that of the child whose every movement is closely controlled by strict parents, Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 � 4111����........ Amitawassetifignesmonmens 50:V. STAT POST,STALIN LITERARY "THAW" SENDS WITH NEW CONTROLS - 4 - In 1958 Vsevolod Kochetov 14rote a novel, "The Yershov Brothers" (published in the magazine Veva-, June-July, 1958),-which was conceived as a kind of anti-Dudintsev production, and is todayrecognized_ as such. It is centered around an ideal family of hereditary proletarians, the Yershov brothers, and bristles with political tirades in the spirit of Khrushchev's "party document." Kochetovis novel, as might be expected$won the highest praise of the literary authorities. Kammunist (Simplot, 1958) characterized it as an "'acute and timely' book honoring the image of a truly conscious builder of Communism." A further accolade to Kochetov by Izvestia (on October 2, 1958), described his book as a "party novel" -- the highest term of Communist praise. In the light of the party's response to these two novels, it becomes clear why the epic work of Boris Pasternak, Doctor Zhivago, could not appear in the Soviet Union. Dr. Zhivago is permeated by feelings which the Communist Party and its literary censors .have been trying for decades to destroy or at least to suppress. Foremost among these feelings is hunger for freedom and a sense, of maes dignity and independence. These ideas pervade the entire book. "The main misfortune, the root of all the evil to came," says Dr. Zhivago, "vas the loss of confidence in the value of one's own opinion. People imagined that it was out of date to follow their own moral sense, that they must all sing in chorus, and live by other people's notions, notions that were being crammed down everybody's throat." POST-STALIN LiTbRARY "THAW" ENDS WITH NEW CONTROLS - 5 But these thoughts do not lead Pasternak and his heroes to pessimism and despair. The novel ends on this note of hope: "Although victory has not brought the relief and freedom that were expected at the end of the war, nevertheless the portents of freedom filled the air throughout the postwar period, and they alone defined its historical significance." # # # Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 3 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 � �-�`- - STAT COMMUNISM'S SINGLE STANDARD FOR LITERATURE AND THE ARTS By Arturo Valente Part I Leji Most scholars looking for an explanation of modern Communism's rather exacting requirements for writers and other creative artists sooner or later find themselves engaged in a study of the 1917 Bolshevik revolu- tioi4L It is in this eventful period of Communist development, one quickly realizes, that the party's present attitude toward the expression of divergent viewpoints began to take definite form. ParadoxicOly, the first official actions of Lenin and his asso- ciates upon gaining control of the Russian government on, November 7, 1917 were to deny to others the opportunities for self-expression which had made their own revolutionary movement possible. Although Marx, Engels and Lenin had depended to a great extent on books, pamphlets and articles to spread their own theories, one of Lenin's first moves after seizing power was to stop the publication of all newspapers and periodicals not committed to Bolshevism. Proposals that the new Russian government include repre- sentatives of other political groups were quickly rejected and it was not long before the freely elected Constituent Assembly was forcibly disbanded for refusing to accept the Bolsheviks' insistence on absolute control. Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 COMMUNISM'S SINGLE STANDARD FOR LITERATURE AND THE AR2S (Part I) -2- From this rather abrupt and prophetic beginning has come the monolithic Commmisit party as it is known today. Shrewdly and inexorably, Lenin and his successors have applied the principles of centralized power to every aspect of Soviet life, seek- ing at all times to create the image of an all-wise party leadership which can do no wrong and which therefore demands unhesitating loyalty from each of its subjects. In actual practice, the concept of Communist reality im- plies far more than mere obedience; the citizens of a Communist state are expected to concentrate their entire beings on the building of Communism as blueprinted by the party. Writers, painters and composers who accept these conditions with- out question, and have skill in their crafts, are handsomely rewarded. They are provided with country homes, good incomes and the privileges of travel. Authors, for example, have the Soviet writer's union to supervise their affairs and make sure that whatever they write is in keeping with party ,policies and objectives. The outward benefits of conformity are demon- strably attractive. Conversely, any artist ghose vision is broader than the party's is on dangerous ground the instant he gives first priority to his own per- sonal reactions to the world around him. Anything resembling what the party calls a revisionist tendency is quickly spotted, as in the case of Boris Pasternak's Dr. zwatlea, and the artist finds his work branded as unfit for Communist audiences. If the writer or other creative worke4 COMMUNISM'S SINGLE STANDARD FOR LITERATURE AND THE ARTS (Part I) -3- again as in the case of Pasternak, is not sufficiently amenable, he is ex- pelled from his union and faces the uncertain future of all non-conformists in a conformist society. Soviet officials, from Lenin to Kbrushchev, have made no secret of their position on the intellectual's role under Communism. "The high- est social purpose of literature and the arts," says Khrushchev, " is to arouse the people to a struggle for new successes in the building of Com- munism." Lenin's edict that "literature must become a component part of organized, planned, unified party work" was strikingly similar. In other words, as the Soviet intelligmtsia is constantly re- minded by party newspapers, magazines, central committee proclamations and other policy outlets, the artist's work is only useful to the extent that it fits the desired ideological grooves. Critical observations, satire and other thoughtful ventures cal- culated t6 stimulate the people's curiosity as to whether Communism is indeed the best of all possible solutions to life's problems are, of course, forbidden. Those who even skirt such questions are risking con- demnation as revisionicts, dogmatists, formalists or worse. This intellectrAlly cloying aspect of Communist life, it is commonly believed, has been the greatest single deterrent to the creation of a meaningful body of literature in the Soviet Union, Commnnist China and the satellite countries of Eastern Europe. Since the ideological content of music and painting is relative- ly nebulous, it is writers as a class who feel most keenly the pinch of Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT 6 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT r." � . '" � � OXAMUNISM'S SINGLE STANDARD FOR LITERATURE AND THE ARTS (Part I) party discipline, the never-ending political surveillance of their activi- ties. This is undoubtedly what Vladimir Dudintsev, the troubled author of Not By Bread Alon2, meant when he maid: "Alas, I constantly.feel that I am on a leash. . .such as those sometimes used for guiding infants." This, it might be added, is by no means an unusual reaction for writers in Com- munist states. Far across the Eurasian continent, the Chinese editor Chin Chao-yang is on record with the observation that today's writers in his country "are apprehensive, ill at ease and always cautious, lest someone grab them from behind." One typical solution to the Communist-controlled intellectnplq: dilemma has been to follow the party's orders in public but to do the work that rePlly interests them in secret. As the noted Soviet affairs commentator Edward Crankshaw wrote recently: "Today there are painters (in the Soviet Union) whose rooms are stacked with the products of their imagination, their visual curiomity, their preoccupation with western developments of the past hundred years. It is the same with the novelists, the playwrights and the poets. In- numerable manuscripts lie hidden in desks and are never taken out except to be read to small groups of friends." In any event, it has became fairly obvious that great works of art 'cannot be prOduced to meet rigidly prescribed formulas'. It is. only logical, therefore, that modern Soviet fiction abounds in stereotyped, r- wooden characters and that -many readers turn, in despair, to the older P Russian-classics. Even the party is dissatisfied with "the inage of the - TA 40.0 1.7 FieriMr4s.,....104=r3 � � Plg,"6' ;It COMMUNIST'S SINGLE STANDARD FOR LITERATURE AND THE ARTS (Part I) -5- new Soviet man" as various writers, to the best of their ability, have managed to portray him. The single-minded, ideologically pure builder of Communism, as party officials seem to want fictional heroes to be charac- terized, just doesn't seem real -- even on paper. A similar deadness has been noted in the "people's art" of Com- munist China, North Vietnam and the more repressed countries of Eastern Europe. Communist officials, moreover, seem exceedingly fearful of the personal liberties necessary to correct this situation. The upsurge in literary activity which preceded the 1956 Hungarian revolt, the somewhat radical trends which developed in the Soviet Union during the post-Stalin "thaw," and the outspoken criticism which erupted in Communist China at the time of Mao Tse-tung's brief "hundred flowers" experiment still serve as ominous object lessons to the party's disciplinarians. In simpler terms, it appears that Communism's own leaders have accepted as proven fact that their doctrine and way of life cannot with- stand the unrestricted probing of independent minds. * * * * * � Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 40. � STAT COMMUNISM'S SINGLE STANDARD FOR LITERATURE AND THE ARTS By Arturo Valente Part II "Few Of Our Young Peo le Are Becoming Writers" The Soviet Communist Party's monolithic stand against any- thing resembling an objective literary examination of the nature and results of its rule, as demonstrated recently by the suppression of Boris Pasternak's Dr. Zhivago, raises a number of questions about the future course of literature in all Communist-dominated societies. These questions, which presumably aptly equally to the vari- ous regimes which have acknowledged Moscow's self-appointed i.ole as ideological leader of the Communist bloc, deal with the most basic concepts of human thought, expression and social development. Can a vibrant, meaningful culture, for example, be built up-, on a foundation of censorship and the imposition of arbitrary literary and artistic rules? Party spokesmen, judging from their periodic decrees and ex- hortations, appear to think that it can. They are, at least, obligated to a defense of this viewpoint, in mlich the same way that writers are obliged to follow their advice if they expect their works to be approired fdi 'publication. > � --�� � ,,C7, � :z Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 � fc-s7.p.rt COMMUNISM'S SINGLE STANDARD FOR LITERATURE AND THE ARTS (Part II) - 2 Those taking the opposite viewpoint feel rather strongly that no intellectual culture of any permanent value can come from the maze of restrictions which confront the creative artist living under a system which requires him to-be, first of all, a propagandist for the party's political program. Critics of the Communist method point to the writer's historic role of social catalyst, in helping to shape man's understanding of his environment, as a prime example of the need to let the creative artist speak from his own mind, heart and experience. The cultural future looks dark indeed, these critics say, if the crea- tive arts are to become only a supporting chorus for the politicians in power. Most readers, by now, are familiar with the Communist party's tendency to regard the thinking man with distrust. They have noted the official Soviet line that advocacy of any theory or viewpoint not sanctioned by party councils constitutes revisionism and therefore be. comes punishable as a crime against the party. This formula, they have observed, seems to apply In all areas under Commtnist rule� Mainland China, North Vietnam, the Soviet Union and the satellite countries of Eastern Europe. The line of demarcation between party approval and disapproval, to compound the average writer's dilemma, is not always easy to antici- pate. Vladimir Dudintsev, for example, was condemned for his provocative attack on Communist bureaucracy in Not By Bread Alone, even though Premier and Party Chief Kbrushchev himself took a remarkably similar stand in his I th.,Piiara COMMUNIMS SINGLE STAMARD FOR. LITERATURE AND THE ARTS (Part II) - 3 - 1957 demand for a reorganization of Soviet industry. Even writers like Ilya Ehrenburg, who ucually- manage to conform satisfe.ctorily, seem to harbor an inner resentment because they must do so. In any event, schol- ars say Ehrenburg made some devastating points against the Soviet system in his 1957 article, Lessons of Stendhal, under the cover of e rathPr skillful symbolic association of certain Stendhal quotations Lith the conditions. of today. Soviet attempts to influence the course of literature ere by no means confined to the areas Moscow now controls. Soviet sponsor- ship of such affairs as the Tashkent conference strongly indicates a de- sire to internationalize the concept of literature as propaganda. This 1958 meeting, ostensibly a forum for mutual discussion between the writers of Africa and Asia, was held, in the Soviet city of Tashkent. "The conference," according to a delegate from India, the liter- ary critic and scholar Durga Bhagvat, "was just an elaborate technique,to exploit persons from the academic class for the propagation of a partic- ular political philosophy." "The author," Miss Bhagvat wrote after returning to India, "was valued but not the person. His writings were regarded as important, but there was no attempt at any critical appreciation of his writings. The various forms of literature were important, but the contents must alweys be the usual propaganda stuff. The conference was concerned with vara)us forms of writing more from the point of view of their utility than the basic aspect of creativeness of literature." Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT aarrowl. V rt COMMUNISM'S SINGLE STANDARD FOR LITERATURE AND THE ARTS(Part II) - 4 - .11�0�411i1�11, The Communist cultural trend, as Miss Bhagvat has indicated, is apparent. Both on the national and international fronts, "party.... mindedness" is the first requisite for the hopeful Communist writer, painter or composer. It is interesting, however, to note that the manuscript of the Soviet-banned international best-selling novel, 2.1..12.1timm, has become a popular black-market item in the USSR. This would seem to indicate that the reading public in the so-called "first country of Communism" is by no means entirely satisfied with the voluminous party-approved literature now in circulation. What, then, is the real future of Communist literature? One of the speakers at the 1958 Soviet Communist youth congress may have provided the answer in a single sentence. Ilide cannot help but feel disturbed," Secretary S. Pavlov of the Moscow city committee said, "by the fact that very few of our young people are taking up the'profession of writing." * * * * * .1' SI' .4b � �, � � � CONNUNISM'S SINGLE STANDARD FOR LITERATURE AND THE ARTS By Arturo Valente Part III "To Tell About The Future Is Not An Easy Task" 11.0.11�1411.mmi����.. Shortly after the 1917 Bolshevik revolution brought Communism to Russia, a Soviet writer named Yevgeni Zamyatin produced a book about life in the far-off future -- a time when the entire world was ruled by a single power. Zamyatin's novel, We, was centered around the love story of a dedicated space scientist and a girl who had become a rebel against the all-pervading, oppressive nature of "the single state." The scientist, to simplify the story, finally rejects his sweetheart and removes all possibility of future temptation by undergoing a brain operation which renders him mentally incapable of rebellious thoughts. The implications of Zamyatin's visionary masterpiece, which is supposed to have influenced the writing of George Orwell's satirical classic, 1984, were apparently considered too provocative for Soviet audiences. At any rate, recent reports say the book is no longer obtain- able in the USSR. Modern writers of Communist science fiction, however, have been given formulas far less likely to create ideological doubts in the minds of their readers. The recommended approach, it will be seen, is closely linked to the party's general attitude concerning all matter&lof potential Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17 � CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 � COMMUNISM'S SINGLE STANDARD FOR LITERATURE AND THE ARTS (Part III) - 2 influence on popular thinking. For this reason, although "future" fiction is not usually included in serious literary studies, the subject merits further examination. EY way of illustration, here are condensed plot summaries of four recent Soviet offerings: 1. Aelita, by Alexei N. Tolstoy. A Soviet expedition lands on Mars and helps the Martian proletarians defeat their "capitalist" oppressors. 2. Menni, the Engineer, by A. Bogdanov. This is an account of early Martian history, when the people were suppressed by'" capitalists." Mbnni comes to recognize the "evils" of capitalism, but it is his son, Netti, who does the most to advance Communist principles on the planet. 3. The Planetary Guest, by G. Martinov. A space ship from a remote planet lands on earth, its passengers revealing that their ancestors conquered the problems of space long ago -- primarily because they had adopted Communist methods. 4. Engineer Garin's Hyperboloid, by Alexei Tolstoy. This story about a mad scientist's plan to conquer-the world with his "death ray" employs a typical Soviet "cold-war" theme. The evil scientist is sponsored by American capitalists but iS finally defeated by a Communist. These stories, apart from their obvious straining for -broad propaganda effects, suggest other and more interesting aspects of the writer's problems in a Communist society. In dealing with the future, especially, Communist writers are faced with almost insurmountable obstacles -- for their books andstories cannot, under any circumstances, presume to predict the course of party policy. A � � - - � COMMUNISM'S SINGLE STANDARD FOR LITERATURE AND THE ARTS (Part III) - As the New York Timest specialist on Soviet affairs, Harry 3 STAT Schwartz, pointed out recently, Soviet fiction is notable for its "reluc- tance to speeulate on what life actually would be like under a future 'Comtunist utopia." "Even the dullest Soviet author," Schwartz noted, "is aware of the dangers of such fantasies. Communism is nominally the goal of all Soviet striving and its supposed future benefits are the justification for the many sacrifices that were and are now required of Soviet citizens. Yet the official picture of just what Communism will be like is exceedingly vague." Therefore, Schwartz concluded, any Soviet writer who presumed to speculate in detail about the USSR's future "would be running grave political risks. Only someone of Nikita S. Khrushchev's stature may today dare to talk on this topic." Knowing this, the USSR's science fiction writers, in particular, are faced with a task of formidable proportions. They must write popular pieces about the future, giving Communism the credit for all possible achievements but avoiding any speculation as to what political shapes their system will assume. Even the official Soviet newspaper Izvestial in the course of a recent demand for more and better Communist fiction, was forced to admit that "to tell about the future is not an easy task." Izvestia might have added that it is equally difficult for Soviet writers to produce satisfactory works about the present. The Moscow Literary Gazette, on January 24, 1959) put its editorial finger on the Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 � � � \. Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 ��� COMMUNISM'S SINGLE STANDARD FOR LITERATURE AND THE ARTS (Part III) - 4 problem by pointing out some of the party's major objections to writing which is too factual and too realistic in its approach. "These works," Literary Gazette charged, are written in such a realistic way that "the life of the communist in the struggle for building communism appears monotonous and du11.!!. 4 MUSICAL CENSORbiiir POSES PROBLEMS FOR COMMUNIST OFFICIALS By Marcel Grilli (Mr. Grilli is music critic for the Japan Times of Tokyo) Music, because it is an art form which defies measurement by the same sort of ideological yardstick used to assess the work of writers, has long been a problem for Communist cultural censors. The difficulties these doctrinal experts encounter in drafting a Usafe" line for authors, for example: are compounded to a formidable degree when they attempt to spell out the party's regulations for com- posers. Words, it becomes obvious, are vastly' easier to regulate than the subtler messages which may be contained in symphonies, sonatas or 0 I concertos. Nevertheless, since the Communist party requires that -ell artistic expression be monitored: controlled and disciplined, no excep- tion can be made for music. These introductory remarks may help to explain the confusion which attended promulgation of a significant 1958 Moscow decree which purports to 'contain the latest party line for musicians. Although approved by the party's ruling central committee on May 28, the new regulations proved to be so complicated that it was not until June 8 that Pravda (the party's principal press organ) was able to publish them; along with an attempted clarification. - Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT MUSICAL CENSORSHIP POSES PROBLEMS FOR COMMUNIST OFFICIALS 2 The interval of two weeks was needed for the preparation of "an overall and profound analysis" and for developing the theses of musical development according to the new prouncement -- a task assigned to Pavel Satyukov, the editor of Pravda. This document, that was to clarify ob- scurities and reconcile the irreconcilable, turned out to be as voluminous and riddled with contradictions as such official dicta are wont to be. In order to find whatever meanings might be hidden in the directive -- appar- ently part of the general reversals of Stalinist policies instituted by Premier Khrushchev -- one has to reexamine the zig-zag track of Soviet musical esthetics and the governing Communist policy of "socialist realism." The one consistent Soviet cultural policy throughout the years has been enforced subservience of music and the other arts to the practical problems of revolutionary development. Such atie-up of art and politics has been a standard practice in many totalitarian countries, so the Soviet Union was hardly original in formulating its needs for a kind of "politically suitable" music. Since the mid-1930's the Soviet Communist Party has been sending out a stream of directives intended to maintain its concepts of the ideolo- gical significance of music. Through disciplinary action and heavy penalties the USSR's leading composers have been repeatedly Dulled back from "devia- tionise through subjective expression or stylistic connection with modern movements in the West. Instead, Soviet composers have been ordered to work with themes of social significance which would also be immediately compre- hensible to a wide audience. In the case of Prokofiev, Shostakovich and � 0 dt'jr1-47 , � �!): MUSICAL CENSORSHIP POSES PROBLEMS FOR COMMUNIST OFFICIALS 3 Khachaturian, to mention three composers whose works are most performed and admired abroad the accusations of "deviationism" from the "true esthetic principles of Soviet art" have been recurrent and vociferous. Each time the necessary genuflections and expiations had to be performed before the artist could resume his work. (The case of Prokofiev may be excepted; in many ways his was an unusual case. Less manageable than either of his two confreres, he was certainly a more independent spirit. For a time he continued to write as he pleased under the cover of an occasional "Ode to Stalin" or a "Peace Oratorio," which contained a sufficient number of party-line allusions to make the music acceptable). The great musical "purge" of 1948 involved eight top composers, including Nikolai Miaskovsky (who died in 1950)) Prokofiev, Shostakovich, and Khachaturian. A prominent Soviet critic recently ranked these four composers as "the great masters of Russian music in the Soviet period." �f. But in 1948 they were confronted by Alexander Zhdanov, then the chief Soviet cultural inquisitor. The immediate spark that set off Moscow's attack at that time was an opera entitled The Great Friendship, by a minor Georgian composer, Vanno Muradelli. This work, dealing with Stalin's years of friendship with Lenin, had obviously been intended as a noble tribute, but the touchy subject managed to offend Communist Party leaders at a "closed" performance in Moscow in November 1947. The decree that followed on February 10, 1948, however, was directed at a far wider field. "Formalise was the key word and its many meanings all bore accusations of failure to serve the cause of "the great ����.: Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17 � CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 t STAT MUSICAL CENSORSHIP POSES PROBLEMS FOR COMMUNIST OFFICIALS epoch of of socialist reconstruction." The dissident composers were accused of employing the advances in musical style developed by such "decadent" and "corrupt" "Western" musical leaders as Stravinsky, Schoenberg, and Hindemith. Again Shostakovich and Khachaturian saw fit to recant their "errors" and speedily made their peace with the party bureaucrats. Prokofiev� long in poor health, maintained his tongue-in-cheek attitude, but on the whole led a quiet existence until his death of cerebral hemorrhage at the age of 61 in March, 1953, a week after Stalin's passing. (Prokofiev's last formal work, it might be noted, was a Sinfonia Concertante which is merely a rehash ofaprevious cello concerto written twenty years earlier.) Two important points now emerge from the new decree and the voluminous commentary published in Pravda on June 8, 1958: (1) the decree admits that Muradelli's opera, The Great Friendship, which had occasioned the previous decree of 1948, really did not deserve the label of "formalism in music," and (2) that it had been wrong to describe such composers as Prokofiev, Shostakovich, and Khachaturian as "representatives of anti-popular formalistic trends." Also admitted to have been "un- justifiably severe" were past denunciations of a number of other dis- tinguished composers and of two additional operas of 1951, namely, Konstantin Dankevich's Bogdan Khmelnitskyl based on the history of the 17th-century Ukrainian people's war of liberation, and German Leontievich Zhukovsky's Ot vsevo serdtsa ("From the Bottom of the Heart"), whose plot MUSICAL CENSORSHIP POSES PROBLEMS FOR COMMUNIST OkiliCIALS 5 was drawn from a novel by Maltsev. Stalin had become the scapegoat, and the Party's previous musical line was ascribed to the fallen dictator's "subjective approach" and to the "negative influence" exerted by such "anti-Party" traitors as Molotov, Malenkov, and Beria. So far, so good. The very next day, on June 9, 1958: messages from Soviet musical personalities endorsing and praising the new party ruling began to appear in the columns of Pravda. It was recalled that many composers who had suffered under Zhdanov's cultural dictatorship had later been awarded prizes and had their compositions performed after Stalin's death. One of these messages, from the veteran Yuri Shaporin, composer of the monumental opera, The Decembrists (begun in 1925 and not completed until some thirty years later) spoke eloquently of "the direct- ness and high-principled attitude" of the party's decision, which, in the words of Shaporin, had "exposed the mistaken evaluations of musical works � which were formed under the conditions of the personality cult." Prokofiev had once described some of his musical colleagues as "babes in arms", and evidently Soviet composers again are naively reading into the new decree what they wishfully hope to see there. For example, Shostakovich was on hand to welcome the new pronouncement -- "a yard- stiCk of national interest," he called it euphemistically, against which artists could measure their advances in creative work. On the general subject of party prepared yardsticks, Shostakovich had previously clarified his views in Pravda on March 27, 1957/ when he wrote: "I consider this a great benefit and a great advantage for the artist because g - � e �� - ' . - � .=�,-; ..?��� � %;; C:;.� ,102, � .00 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 -���,��� � STAT MUSICAL CENSORSHIP POSES PROBLEMS FOR COMMUNIST OFFICIALS 6 it saves him from the self-delusion of individualism and the risk of straying off to the byways that lead to decadence: turgidity, and hack work...." Such a statement on the part of the leading Soviet composer is all the more revealing since it came at a time when Shostakovich was preparing for the premiere of his Eleventh Symphony: a musical re-evocation of episcodes of the abortive Russian revolt of 1905: an overly long work whose main features are its fanfares, populnr march tunes, and patent cliches. Also indicative was a Radio Moscow broadcast in August of 1958 reporting that Shostakovich had turned to musical comedy in an effort to attune his creativeness to the new artistic experiments encouraged by the Khrushchev regime. Like the revised view of Jazz, this appeared to be a consequence of the official tendency to woo the rank-and-file of Soviet aficionados of musical stage works away from the Italian and French operatic repertoire, which remains extremely popular throughout the U.S.S.R. For it must be admitted that, in spite of strenuous efforts on the part of the directors of Soviet opera houses to popularize modern native works, few of the operas produced by contemporary Soviet composers have managed to win a permanent place in opera-goers' hearts. As a matter of fact, repeated appeals have been made to win official Communist approval for some relaxation of rigid party ukases and party sanction for policies more in favor of bolder attempts by composers, librettists, and producers to find new forms. This was tacitly conceded in the June 8 Pravda editorial which not only called for more and better operas on contemporary subjects, t?' MUSICAL CENSORSHIP POSES PROBLEMS FOR COMMUNIST Ok.DICIALS 7 but also for a greater tolerance on the part of critics towards composers searching for new formal solutions. Such developments would also seem to be all to the good. But the verbatim translation of the new party-approved dictum is far less ebullient than the journalistic commentaries. For example, there is an explicit acknowledgment that the -previous 1948 resolution had correctly related the task for the development of music to the concept of socialist realism and had properly condemned formalistic tendencies in music. A network of linguistic contradictions allows loopholes that make previous criticism seem to be in error, but nevertheless still upholds the "important party rulings" and the "important party documents" in which the original criticism appeared. Finally, the demands of composers, musicians, and producers for freedom from party restrictions and discipline are peremptorily rejected. � Pravda itself has admitted that the danger of "unhealthy and alien" musical phenomena and "incorrect tendencies" still exists. The party newspaper also points out an inclination to "false originality," an enthusiasm among young composers for formal experimenting "without a healthy and realistic ground," and the existence of Uncritical attitudes towards "decadent modern art." All these are condemned without mincing words. What, then, is the concrete and factual residue left after the verbiage is sifted from the 1958 decree? There is a pretense at legalizing the rehabilitation of previously censured composers. A few freedoms which NOM-, ''���� -:"Ifs4 � � � - ,�:�-����� r.1,,.�.�dh � � )4, � re54:e7;1` Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17 � CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 9 STAT MUSICAL CENSORSHIP POSES PROBLEMS FOR COMMUNIST OH,ICIALS 8 the composers had been winning for themselves were also grudgingly conceded. But there is no evidence of relaxation of discipline imposed on music as a utilitarian tool in a political organization. The extent to which com- posers may benefit by the breakthrough achieved after Stalin's death is very strictly delimited. No Soviet composer who wishes a measure of material success can afford to ignore these boundaries. * * * * * PASTERNAK'S FELLOW AUTHORS SPEAK THEIR NUNDS By Henry V. Burke When Soviet actions in the Boris Pasternak affair reached an ideological point of no return in late October of 1958, it was not sur- prising that authors in other counties were among the first to voice their opinions. The situation in which the famed Soviet poet and novelist sud- denly found himself -- the recipient of -increasing praise throughout the non-Communist literary world but faced with rapidly mounting pressure in his own -country -- quite naturally had a special kind of impact on those individuals who, in one form of another, felt themselves to be Pasternak's spiritual colleagues. Who better than another writer could sense the full import of , Pasternak' -personal ordeal? The whole Pasternak episode was, after all, the most dramatic kind of revelation of what any artist faces if he happens to live in a society which -regards all manifestations of the creative , imagination as potentially dangerous. In this context, the fact that authors living in the Soviet. .Union either kept silent or joined in the Communist attacksyon Pasternak gives added significance to the words and actions of those other writers who were in a better position to comment as individuals. Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT t.t4 PASTERNAK'S FELLOW AUTHORS SPEAK THEIR MINDS - 2 - It is something more than a coincidence, one might add, that virtually every author outside the Communist blco arrived independently - . - � at almost the identical conclusion about Pasternak's abrupt rejection of the Nobel award. Here, for Oca1tiiii4,7are the winners in literature: comments of three former Nobel prize 'is � r., "I don't believeRfAterriak refused,the Nobel prize of his -own free will." -- Albert Camus of France. "Knbwing the RITISSian0 way of life asVre..doi we may well think that Pasternak had no alternative butrto reject this prize." 7- Bertrand Russell of Britain. "The rejeCtionE, -Which no doubt was made pmder pressure,. does not alter his (Pasterriak'S) world stature as a writer.- It does rep.e,ct, most unfortunately, upon his government and his compatriots.", Pearl, al& of the United States. The noted Britishauthcit Stephen Spender termed PasternWs- expulsion from the Soviet Writers' Union "a disgrace to civilization." Similar reactions came from Franeh author Andre'Nhurois, who,called the reprisal against the.�Sovdet poet ahd novelist a "scandaloue-development, and President Tatsuzo Idhikawa of the Japanese Writers' -Unieni, who char- acterized PaSternak's treatlient in the USSR as "deplorablea, ,z.. A number dt world-r&howned authors felt so strongly about. the Pasternak case that they sent indivicual or group messages of protest to Soviet officials. s _ . _ � itg'1)... , PASTERNAK'S FELLOW AUTHORS SFELk THEIR EdNDS \J- - 3.-- Iceland's Halldor Illjan Laxness, winner of both the Nobel and Stalin prizes, directed this appeal to Soviet Premier and Party Chief Nikita Khrushchev: "Turning to Your Excellency, I implore you as a level-headed statesman to use your influence in :litigating the malicious onslaughts of sectarian intolerance upon an old; meritorious Russian poet, Boris Pasternak. Why lightheartedly arouse the wrath of the world's poets, writers, intel- lectuals and socialists against the Soviet Union in this matter? Kindly spare the friends of the Soviet Union an incomprehensible and most unworthy speotaelow" More strongly worded protests came from authors in Britain, the international P.E.N. organizations .the Authors' League of America, and various national committees for cultural freedom. A number of prominent Austrian writers signed a resolution protesting Soviet actions against Pasternak and saluting "our great Russian colleague in his hours of Solitude to which the anti-intellectual - terror of the rulers of his country has condemned him." Italy's National Union oetiiiters dispatched this appeal to the , Soviet Writers' Union in MOSeow: ' � "The Union expresses its painful shook and its protest against the attitude taken by you concerAihi Boris Pasternak. Such steps whibl " we dormot consider 'justified, even� as 'a political aid doubtlessly dediperate seribUsly violate the professional dignity or writera-and.hre in � open contra/notion to the unanimous decisions of the recent internatibnal � 5 L' . 1.0 � '5 e�R., ,Aer Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 - ����silior PASTERNAK'S FELLOW AUTHORS SPEAK THEIR yams writers' congress held in Naples and which were approved also by your official delegation." A group of Indian writers issued a statement charging that "it is the Communist rulers who are imparting political considerations to a purely literary affair. ,Literary men,all over the. world disapprove of this tendency of mixing politics with literature. Me hope the Russian government will have some consideration for the opinion of writers and will in deference to that stop their ill treatment of the great Russian writer, Boris Pasternak." Sharp criticism of the Soviet campaign against Pasternak also came from authors and academicians in Latin America. Among ,the first to protest was the Brazilian novelist and,poet_Jorge Amado, himself a former winner of the Stalin prize. Amado asserted that "Pasternak's expulsion from the Union of Soviet Wrtiers demonstrates that schematic, sectarian and dogmatic elements still dominate in the Soviet ..Union, trying to impede literary creation and to impose a.single school of thought, just as, in the Stalin era." .The Brazilian Association for Treedom of Culture declared, in a particularly forthright statement that "any attempt to prevent an artist from giving voice to his art is an irreparable crime against humanity." The Sladish, Association of Writers cabled the USSR's Union of Writers that "in our firm opinion, it is_ your and our commOrn. task to guard .freedom of.speech and the writer's right to speak, out on the great questions _ of our time. Therefore, an author must,be able tp.feel certain that his criticism of circumstances in his own,country will be met by counter� criticism, not reprisal." STAT t:r.::��- PASTERNAK'S FELLOW AUTHORS SPEAK THEIR MINDS � 5 From these randomly selected examples of world literary reaction, it is apparent that the Soviet campaign against Pasternak for presuming to write objectively of life in the USSR was uniformly regarded as an official repudiation. of the artist's inherent right to express himself. Any attempt to seek out the real reason for the Soviet Union's official attitude, however, must go beyond the overt political campaign conducted against Pasternak and those who honored him with the Nobel award. One must first examine the original Soviet decision to ban Pasternak's novel, "Dr. Zhivago," and then consider the strenuous efforts made to prevent its appearance in other countries. Soviet literary censors, in rejecting the manuscript of "Dr. Zhivago" when it was first submitted for publication in the USSR, put their objec� tions into a surprisingly simple, frank and revealing statement. "The thing that disturbed us about your novel," Pasternak, "is something that neither the editors nor the by cuts or alterations. We mean the spirit of the novel, they wrote to author can alter its general tenor, the author's point of view...The spirit of your novel is that of non� acceptance of the Socialist (Communist) Revolution." * * * * * Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 �������������1110 acoliMiWr- �� -- I � - � STAT � � DR. ZHIVAGO "HAS NO INTEREST FOR US" By Arturo Valente As anticipated) one of the questions raised by newsmen during Soviet Deputy Premier Aaastas Makoyan's early 1959 visit to the United .States concerned Boris Pasternakts much-discussed novel: Dr. Zhivago. Makoyants ansver, when asked if this world-famous book would ever be published in the USSR, was simplicity itself. "It has no interest for us," the Soviet official replied. From an official and party point of view, Makoyants statement was undoubtedly true, it having already been decided that Dr. Zhivago was not suitable reading for residents of the Soviet Union and its areas of primary influence. A few months before, however, spokesmen for the Soviet Communist Party were giving every indication that they considered Dr. Zhivago a subject of the greatest possible interest. This was the period, late in 1958, when award of the Nobel prize for literature to Boris Pasternak set off a nation-wide campaign to discredit both book and author. In view of the more recent Soviet stand that Dr. Zhivago and qitoris Pasternak are unworthYof serious discussimbit might be interesting to coriiider some of the Communist Partyts possible reasons for wishing to wash its hands of the whole matter. - - � I t, 41, V,;;;;;�,;�45 A Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 I. DR. ZHIVAGO "HAS NO INTEREST FOR US" Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 � ,�-�� �-� 4,1- � , - 2 - Back in 1956, long before Dr. Zhivago became an international best-seller, Boris Pasternak's manuscript was weighed against the stand- ards of "Communist realise which govern all cultural endeavors in the Soviet Union. Editors of the Soviet literary monthly, Novy Mir, after consid. ering the manuscript in their capacity as party examiners, expressed them- selves as shocked by both the tone and content of Pasternakts panoramic survey of Russian life before, during and after the Bolshevik revolution. "The thing that disturbed us about your novel," Pasternak was informed in a 10,000-word letter of rejection, "is something that neither the editors nor the author can alter by cuts or alterations...The spirit of your novel is that of non-acceptance of the socialist (Communist) revolution." While the tone of Novy Mirts letter was remarkably temperate, in relation to the party's later attacks on Pasternak, its long-delayed publication by the Soviet Literary Gazette in 1958 prompted many non-: Soviet readers to take a second look at their copies of Dr. Zhivago. Just what, they wondered, were the Communists so disturbed about? In addition to the author's obvious feelings about the fundamen- tal importance of the individual, and his right to freedom of thought, a number of specific pvsages must have seemed highly improper to Communist party officials. Here are some examples: "You:know, it looks as if I'll be forced to resign from my jobs. It's always the same thing -- it happens again and again. At first Oar& 4.* p. . r:. DR. ZHIVAGO "HAS NO INTEREST FOR US" - 3 - STAT everything is splendid. 'Come along. We welcome good, honest work, we welcome ideas, especially new ideas. What could please us better? 1)o your work, struggle, carry on.' Then you find in practice that what they mean by ideas is nothing but words -- claptrap in praise of the revolaion and the regime. I'm sick and tired of it. And its not the kind Of thing good at." * * * "Marxism is too uncertain of its ground to be a science ,Sciences are more balanced, more objective. I don't know a movement more self-centered and further removed from the facts than Marxism." � * "His;(Strelnikov's) alliance with the Bolsheviks is accidental. So longreethey:need him, they put up with him...The moment they don't need him they'll throw him overboard with no regret, and crush him; as they have done with other military experts." "To conceal failure by every means that terrorism can suggest, it is necessary to make people learn not to think and to judge, forcing them to see things that did not exist and proving the contrary of what everyone coula * * * "The worst evil and the root of future evil were a loss of confidence in the value of one's own opinion.. .We thought it was necessary to sing in chorus and to live on absolute concepts imposed from above." * * * Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 ,,,..-s,r-:;,-�tfte-.44.W.S.'�,:W:-.4,-;..,1�..;rti2kse:4 � Nt.7,4"...i..�:'!"- -� '- � � - DR. ZHIVAGO "HAS NO INTEREST FOR DS" ' -4-. "What was conceived as a' noble and lofty idea has become .ria]. and and crude...Russian enlightenment has become the Russian revolution." * * * "The idea of social betterment as it is understood since the October revolution doesn't fill me with enthusiasm. It is far from being put into practice, and the mere talk about it has cost such a sea of blood that I am not sure the end justifies the means." * * * "The great majority of us are required to lead a life of constant, systematic duplicity." * * * "Civic institutions should be founded on democracy; they should grow upfrom below...You cannot hammer them in from above like stakes for a fence." * * * "Life is never a material, a substance to be molded. If you want to know, life is the principle of self-renewal, it is constantly renewing and remaking and changing And transfiguring itself! It is infinitely beyond your or ray obtuse-theories about it." # # # '���� i!�.�.�,A� � . 4 '*�:, WHY KHRUSHCHEV DISTRUSTS THE SOVIET INTELLECTUALS By James H. Billington From The New York Times Magazine Reprinted by permission The current Soviet campaign to humiliate and defame Boris Pas- - ; ternak is only the latest and most dramatic illustration of the con- tinuing tension between the Soviet regime and its intellectuals. What- ever Nikita S. Khrushchevls successes in material construction and foreign policy, he has not yet found a formula for dealing with this troublesome element in Soviet society. A recent trip to the U.S.S.R. provided me an opportunity to learn -- through formai and informal talks in a number of intellectual centers -- something of the outlook of the Soviet intelligentsia. While the picture was often depressing, there seemed little doubt even in those days before Pasternak received -- and refused -- the Nobel Prize, that this lonely and craggy figure is closer to the thinking people of the U.S.S.R. than is Khrushchev or any other recent political leader. 1958 by The New York Times Company Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 ��;�2.2.�,-� � ,"-:".1:�' .2. . � � � WHY KHRUSPEBEV DISTRUSTS THE SOVIET INTELLECTUALS .0.m.111211 -� e.d. � � i'Ll�&6' - 2 - WHY KIMUSHCIEV DISTRUSTS THE SOVIET INTELLECTUALS Khrushchev's problem in determining what to do about Pasternak is part of the broader dilemma of the despot posing as a reformer. On the one hand, he must grant his cerebral servants enough freedom to Pro- duce the things the regime needs; at the,aame time, .he must make it clear that they are still on a leash. . . In this period of uncertainty in which attempts are being made to tighten the leash .on wri,tera.r..if not to.terrorize them, intel- lectuals seem to feel perplexed. and, increasingly antagonistic 10 "thee -- the Communist Party supervisors of ,intellectual life. "We hardly, know what they believe, let alone what we are to think 9T teach,". one young . Soviet teacher said of the recent changes in the official histories of the U.S.S.R. � These feelings of discontent are in many ways recent developments. Late in 1956, at the end of the officially sanctioned "thaw" in Soviet... intellectual life, apparently many still spoke with gratitude of the days "since the birth of Khrushchev" -- a pun, since the words for Khrushchev and Christ sound somewhat similar in Russian. Now the general attitude seems closer .Go that of a writer, who . said, in discussing Khrushchev's denigration of Stalin: "Comrade Khrush- chev seems to have gotten the idea that the rumblings he made after his -- revelations were unqualified cheers fort him. He is like the master .of � ceremonies in a bad comedy show. When he suddenly receives an uproarious reaction from the crowd he congratulates himself on his great wit without noticing that his suit has just come apart at the seams." * - 3 - One of the surprisingly large number of young-writers who knew and admired Pasternak (and who had some familiarity with '!Doctor Zhivago" despite the official ban-on its publication in the U.S.S.R.) pointed out with considerable feeling that Pasternak, in contrast to Khrushchev, neither benefited from the terror of the Stalin era nor waited until the master was dead to make his attitude clear. This same writer pointed to the "moral dignity" of Pasternak's long literary silence, and to such past incidents as his reading of nonpolitical poems at "literary evenings" almost entirely devoted to grovelling odes to Stalin. Khrushchev's most serious problems with the intellectuals are probably not, however, those that follow from his exposed ideological position so much as those that result from his determination to "overtake and surpass America," to use the official slogan of current Soviet con- struction (or "keep ahead of the Chinese," to use one of the unofficial ones). One of the many jokes about this slogan tells of the economics professor who, after explaining that America is inevitably declining, asks his class what is the future goal of Russia and is answered in chorus: "Overtake and surpass America." This very determination renders the ambitious politicians increasingly dependent on the intellectuals' talents at a moment when their ideological hold over the thinking community has been weakened. Who makes up the intellectual community in the U.S S.R.? Its official members are the professional scientists, writers and professors who work for the Academy of Sciences, the Union of Writers and the higher - . � � 1 � �-�-e' � � ?.1.-71.1)44 �=.14��e4 � ' � ,, �� - A _ Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 ...mmummlW WHY KHRUSHCHEV DISTRUSTS THE SOVIET INTELLECTUALS - 4 - camo������ state schools. These full-time intellectuals are often better paid and more publicly honored than their counterpartsdri.the United States, th6ugh they pay a price that few thinking people can ever fully tolerate: acceptance of their task as essentially serviceto the state. ::. It was with the obvious intention of fostering the impression that all is well on this intellectual assembly line that a meeting was arranged for me in Moscow at the Union of Writers -- the organization from which:Pasternak:Was recently expelled. Seated at the head of a table in the palace that was Tolstoy's model for the Rostov estate in "liar:And Peace" was the writer Boris Polevoi and a small entourage of "literary figures." After a cordial welcome, Polevoi said: "So you wanted to see� ; well, here he is.," Thereupon a door opened and the first of several promi- nent young writers whom I had asked to see entered.otcue for a brief and rather wooden discussion. This unedifying parade was accompanied by much effusive camaraderie among Polevoi and the permanent members of his literary semi- nar, who engaged in some mock sparring over such pressing matters as which really was the best novel of some obscure Soviet writer, ."You see," said Polevoi, throwing his arms out expansively lest I miss the point, "we have many arguments among ourselves." "Yes"; "Certainly"; "All the time" came the reprise from the chorus. -gt;:kAt. STAT ": ' - ". ;- ';',17 � � * sr�r . ...-74; � guy.. ,,..A;���� .� ii�J".4.r��.C4.6:1�7�� f.);,.." � . � i..ITR1/4'1X 4 � . WHY.KHRUSHChEV DISTRUSTS THE SOVIET INTELLECTUALS At this and similar meetings (especially with large visiting delegations) a flattering illusion of contact is created and an earnest effort made to disarm potential critics with brief displays of friendli- ness and free discussion. However, smaller informal meetings or follow- up discussions are almost invariably ruled out, often by the simple methOd of putting off the initial meeting until the final day of a visitor's stay. But even in these formal meetings it is often possible to dis- cover more than the Communist stage managers probably intend. One writer will tell you in the course of his recital that he is now preparing an edition-of his selected works-- "very selected", -- another that he has suddenly developed a passion for translating after previously saying paintedly that he had never had any ability or interest in foreign lan- guages. Others convey a great deal simply by silence, by a look, or by including-- as most whom I met did� the names of Pasternak and other unorthodox contemporary figures among those whose work has made the deveat impression on them. In these rare "moments of truth," in official meetings and in even more rewarding chance encounters, one slowly comes to realize how much fuller the intellectual and creative life of Russia is than that which is represented by its official Communist overseers. The intellectual community in the Soviet Union today includes not only professionals, but many of the growing number of educated lay- menres well. The very word intelligentsia is a Russian one with past connotations of high purpose ami deep concern. Even today the word kulturny ("cultured") is generally esteemed to be a far higher compliment Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT WHY-KHRUSHCHEV DISTRUSTS THE SOVIET INTELLECTUALS -6 than partiny(?qarty-spirited"). "To be kulturny you must live honorably," a Moscow cab driver explained, "and to be'intelligentny you must be able � to read' between the lines." There is little doubt that he -- and many other Russian members of this uniquely philosophic profession -- are both more "cultured" ahd more 'intelligent" than most of the regime's paid philosophers. I � -.- Soviet intellectuals in this special sense are today the very old and the very young. While the very old -- Pasternak and many of the best scientists, writers and historians -- have their roots in pre-revolu,- tionary-Russial the post-war generation of intellectuals represents a new source of vitality. Their unorthodox "rotten moods" have-perplexed the regime, which denounces them vigorously, but rather implausibly, as per�. zhitki -- "survivals of the past." They are in essence the Saviet Union's version of the angry young men-- though their anger has a moral and selfless quality-about it. They find unity in a common revulsion toward those whom one writer called "petit bourgeois Communists" -- men who survived the Stalin era and prize above everything else this animal survival. If these young intellectuals have no unifying positive vision, they do have a common idea of hell: the bovine life of the middle-aged bureaucrats who, without honor, humor or embarrassment, swarm in their inelegant beach pajamas over-imitation baron- ial palaces along the Black Sea. A second comm6n characteristic of this rising student generation is its almost insatiable curiosity about the outside world. A student to whom I had given a copy of"an'American newspaper later told me that he had cut it into 75 pieces in order to give each of his classmates some of it. WHY KHRUSIEHEV DISTRUSTS THE SOVIET INTELLECTUALS - 7 A young musician insisted that Van Cliburn was received with such unprece- dented warmth not only because of his =kcal virtuosity, but because of a widespread desire to demonstrate in some way the popular thirst for expanded contact with the United States. In any event, whenever informal meetings were possible, young Soviet intellectuals asked questions not ohly about Little Rock and unem- ployment, but others revealing broader horizons than many might have thought possible under Soviet methods of indoctrination. They seem genuinely inr. terested in knowing if, and why, educated Americans still believe in God, or if, and why, different universities teach the same subjects differently. When I assured a group of Moscow University studentsthat no one: regulated the content of my courses at Harvard, the spokesman of the group nodded and said, with a tone of reverence that would be hard to duplicate in the free world, "Da svoboda slov!" ("Yes, freedom of speech!"). Expanded intellectual horizons are, to a very considerable degree, the accidental creations of Khrushchev's policies. Although Khrushchev clearly intended to let out the leash only when necessary to produce results in areas oflpriority concern to the regime, he appears to have stimulated independent thinking in many unwelcome areas. Ardhitects, for instance, have at last been encouraged to cease building pretentious civic monuments and get on with long-overdue housing projects. But several architects who had been sent abroad to study foreign techniques seemed less interested in the specific methods they were sup- posed to have studied than in the ideas they had picked up in free countries: Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 _ .4 ;.� � ....or WHY-NHRUSHOHEV DISTRUSTS THE SOVIET INTELLECTUALS - 8 - of tailoring, construction more to individual needs and tastes, of build- ing more harmoniously intoithe landscape and, above all, of emphasizing. lightness and simplicity The bordeom and exasperation induced by official ideology is illustrated by one of the_many jokes told about the regime's attempt to drape itself in the mantle of a "return to Leninism." Lenin, it seems, arose from the grave arid.-went in search of a newspaper that would tell him what had happened in the U.S.Ka. since his death. When he asked for Pravda (Truth), Sovetckaya Rossiya (Soviet Russia) or Thud (Work), .I���wM, �������� the news vender explained to him: "There is no Truth left; Soviet Russia has been sold out; all that remains is Work." This story is typical not only in its expression of discontent, but also in its resignedly submissive conclusion. This technically trained student generation seems politically naive and even indifferent; but its members are at least bent on doing their work well -- without frills, without cant, 'arid, above all, without interference. To an observer, this no-nonsense attitude may seem a natural and insignificant development; but to the Soviet leaders -- whose political position is still dependent on their ideolozicoll pretensions -- it apparently seems to be part of some insidious plot, a kind of creeping pragmatism which bids fair to threaten the "leading role of the party" in all walks of life. This struggle between party bureaucrat and scientific specialist seems to have been almost literally built into the new Moscow University, which dominates the horizon of the capital for miles around. These new buildings are for the exclusive use of the favored scientific faculties, WHY KHRUSHOHEV DISTRUSTS THE SOVIET INTELLECTUALS - 9 but they are built in the heavy, Mtsco-Vite style which man scientists openly refer to as "the Empire style in the time of the plague." All 115tudy is free, but engraved on the wall of the main auditorium is Stalin's ominous warning that scientists must be not only skilled specialists, but faithful and active party men as well. At the other end of the intellectual pole from the creeping pragmatism and skepticism of the scientist is the .half-hidden interest of many intellectuals in the broader questions of meaning and purpose. While the educated classes, on the whole, do not appear anxious to return to any formal religion, I did notice some evidence of renewed interest in religious ideas. One student explained that the riotous stu- dent demonstrations of support for the novelist Dudintsev two years ago were more on behalf of the title of his work, "Not by Bread Alone," than for the author or the book itself. In the re-examination of long-neglected elements in Russia's past during the past few years, the attention of the thinking classes has been focused largely on the tortured but deeply reli- gious figure of Dostoevsky. A new edition of his works and a new motion picture version of "The Idiot" seem to be enjoying more popularity and provoking more thoughtful discussion than almost any other recent cultural productions. In such delicate subjects as the exploration of Russia's past, "they" (the party bureaucrats) are, of course, ever alert to see that cul- tural activities either support an ideological point or contribute to the prestige of the Soviet state. There was something both amusing and depress- ing about a young Communist archaeologist who pointed with great solemnity -- Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 .0 STAT WHY KHRUSWHEV DISTRUSTS THE SOVIET INTELLECTUALS - 10- to some birchwood account records that had been dug up at great expense. "These prove," he announced rather defensively, "that we Russians weren't illiterate back in the twelfth century, and that we didn't get our culture from the church, . either." If the Soviet intellectual community is in frequent conflict with its party overseers and is increasingly populated by inquiring young men who can "read between the lines," nonetheless its contribution to the state remains immense. The undeniable material progress that Russia has made in the Soviet period would have been unthinkable without the cooperation of many pre-revolutionary intellectuals and the development in more recent years of an impressive new generation of scientists and technologists. Although Soviet science almost certainly owes a theoretical debt to Germany, England, and the United States for its recent advances in such fields as rocketry, jet aviation, and nuclear energy, these still are substantial national achievements, in which most Soviet intellectuals take considerable pride. The intellectuals' sense of identification with the fate of their native land is exemplified by Pasternak's anguished plea not to be exiled from Russia. Particularly since the upsurge of wartime nationalism, the regime seems to have benefited from the general desire to stick together, almost no matter what, while the motherland got back on her feet. However, after more than 13 years, many now seem to feel that it is time for a new period to begin. Both the vitriolic campaign against Pasternak and Khrushchev's new program to remedy the students' "separation from life" by imposing on � WHY KHRUSHCHEV DISTRUSTS THE SOVIET INTELLECTUALS - 11 - them obligatory service. in a factory or on a farm indicate that the re- gime is determined to tighten the leash. But it is unlikely that Khrushchev can ever preside over a full-blown return to Stalinism, herring himself done so much to shatter the myth of infallibility. Thus, it appears likely that the Soviet leadership will have to grant some further grudging con- cessions to the group on which it depends for the realization of its plans. Vindictive personal injustices -- such as forcing Pasternak to decline the Nobel Prize -- undoubtedly will continue. But as all who have recently seen Pasternak attest, he has developed a noble indifference to his personal fate as long as he can in some way give witness to his ideals within his native Russia. If some party bureaucrat, such as his principal tormentor Surkov, the widely disliked secretary of the Writers Union, should succeed in imposing even more brutal sanctions on Pasternak, they would probably do the cause which Pasternak serves more good than harm. Indeed, the vast uproar already made about "Doctor Zhivago" has, no doubt, done far more to stimulate curiosity about a novel still unpublished in the U S.S.R. than to call forth any genuine indignation over it. When I concluded my visit in the Soviet Union in the fall of 1958, I did not feel any great optimism about the ability of these inquir- ing young intellectuals seriously to affect the politics or policies of the Soviet state� at least in the near future. Nonetheless, I left with a distinct feeling that Soviet creative life has a richness and depth which the regime has been unable fully to control and the world fully to appre- ciate. Akall:1544. _ 4 � _ � r � . ��A"Z�. Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 '!'"��4".��������,'...� � �� 1...r.,-,����ma � � -$-..::�3-:.4�� WHY KHRUSHCIEV DISTRUSTS THE SOVIET INTELLECTUALS -12- .01.�412110 � . ft-4.e.r#44"."1 � ,��� �:kt � Though I did not See Pasternak, 'Ineverthelesi felt some sense of his presence in many talks with Russian thinkers. Outstanding young - writers, who are among his closest friends and admirers, have long been heartened by his adherence to poetic values in an age Of political doggerel. Some of the unorthodox aesthetic ideas they axperessed -- of experimenting with' blank verse or pOeticizing the Russian language by elim- inating harsh gutterals -- represent the sort of thing he himself might do if he still had yoUth and.a chance to publish. In talking with many others who have no real understanding of Pasternak's literary work, I found that he-stands as a witness to the proposition that it is possible to have lived through all that Ruseia has experienced in this century and yet still speak truthfully about important questions. ' One cannot leave the U.S.S.R without some feeling of respect for the forests of cranes atop buildings going up, for the new dams and hoSpitals, for the hypnotic statistics of physical construction. But some- how one feels that these are not what thinking young' Russians really care about; that this building is for them a massive calisthenic exercise held- in the half-light prior to the dawn. But is there to be a dawn? In search of an answer one turns inevitably to Pasternak-- and to the many others whose names and fates may never be known. It is possible that in Pasternak and "Doctor Zhivago" one sees only the last reflections on a lonely mountain of a sun that has already set. But perhaps his is also the perspective of Prospero -- the wondrous final creation of the Shakespeare whom Pasternak has so long and so lovingly translated. For Pasternak "the cloud-capp'd towers, the � WHY KHRUSHCHEV DISTRUSTS THE SOVIET INTFMCTUALS STAT -13� gorgeous palaces" of Soviet construction may already seem an "insubstantial pageant faded" and man "such stuff as dreams are made on." As he recently said: "The proclamations, the tumult, the exm. citement are over. Something new is growing, imperceptibly and quietly as the grass grows. It is ripening as fruit does, and it is growing in the young. The essential thing in our age is that a new freedom is being born." END This article appeared in the magazine section of the No- vember 9, 1958, issue of The New York Times. The author, an assistant professor at Harvard University, recently returned from a visit to the U.S.S.R. He teaches Soviet history and modern Russian intellectual history. The article has been abridged. It has been cleared for republication in English and in translation outside the United States and Canada provided credit is given to the author and The New York Times and the following copyright notice is carried: */--1958 by The New York Times Company This clearance is for five years only and expires November 25, 1963. � � u�s����-- � � �� s 4x� - - - � - -a4�-� � "r� � ..1.4,Z.-��43:VZ.?1:4..�-�� +�-'4�4��'�!i, cf � Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT 4 to r to THE LESSON OF PASTERNAK By Ignazio Silone From The New Leader Reprinted by permission The great storm around Boris. Pasternak has now abated. Now we can put into perspective some of the things revealed by it. What, above all, is the true significance of the pretests that have been voiced in all parts of the world against the grave threats and persecution to which Pasternak has been subjected in the U.S.S.R.? These protests, in my view, constitute the most fitting reply to the abject rationalizations which the poet himself was forced to submit in rejecting the Nobel Prize for Literature. The first reason given by Pasternak for his rejection referred, as we know, to the particular psychology of the national society-to which he belongs and which, realistically, he must take into account. But the intense emotion and the rising storm of pro� test engendered throughout the civilized world by this episode demon� strate that there exists, at least potentially, a society larger than the national society to which Pasternak, as a man and as a consummate artist, fully belongs. Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 � � r Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 - �,-; car.mirrIla � a, . � �'--"- _J'._ - � ���- * - � - �t,��� THE LESSON OF PASTERNAK � V-g;19'. _ 2 - THE LESSON OF PASTERNAK All of us knew, in discussing the Pasternak affair, that we were not arbitrarily interfering in the internal affairs of a foreign country. Pasternak is our colleague; he belongs to us as much as to the Russians; he is part of what Goethe called Weltliteratur. The boundary- less society of artists and,Stee.men_felt outraged and wounded by the ignoble behavior of the Sovietcultural'bureaucracy. We had the right and the duty to intervene. Pasternak unexpectedly gave a name and a face to the cause'of the freedom of art. With him our dignity and our honor as writers were at stake. Now the simple fact that a novel has been the center of the'world's attention must impress upon us the impor- tance which true art can still assume in the life of the people. After Budapest, after Warsaw, we now have "Dottor Zhivago." Anyone who, in the future, speaks of the role of the intellectuals in our time will not be able to ignore these func9ar,ental events. In this sense, the Pasternak case has served as a touchstone which no Western literary circles can refuse to recognize. The cowardice, the ambiguity; the subtle distinctions, the hypocritical' evasions of "equi-distance" ' have again- laid bare the malaise which still afflicts many' Western writers when they are confronted-with the need -to assume a reSponsibility that endarigers.their tranquility. This'is a lesson to keep in mind. The Pasternak 'case has also enabled us to See tdre clearly the' present status of cultural life in the Soviet Empire* airei* knew that the "thaw" was a short-lived one. We knew that the cultural insti- tutions, the publishing houses, the writers' and artists' associations, er � � - 3 - the editorial' offices of the reviews remained unchanged, with the same. directors who had been placed there by Andrei Zhdanov. But we never could have predicted that the insolence of these gentlemen could take .� this form, which, to us, appears mad. To be sure, even now we are not, in favor of a rupture of cultural relations with the Soviet Union; we remain, now as always, partisans of a free circulation of men and ideas. But we shall not easily forget the names of the Soviet men of letters who promoted the shameful campaign against Pasternak and who led the Moscow Writers Union to request that the Government deprive Pasternak of the right to work and live in the U.S.S.R. We must wait for one of these gentlemen to appear at some international conference in Venice, Rome, Zurich, or Paris, to ask him to account for his ignominy. Of course, shameful attitudes have been taken by other writers, recently and in the distant past. But the literary history of no country knows a more de- grading spectacle than that of an assembly of Boo writers condemning a novel without having read it. Not even the Spanish Inquisition, in its darkest period, descended to It would seem that famous ones, did not join in such depths of violence and stupidity. certain Soviet writers, including some the general outcry against Pasternak. We must hope that more will be known about this, and soon. But the question that arises is this: Taking into account the conformism of the Writers Union; is it conceivable that it could hae been convened, and that it would have taken these mad decisions, without an explicit order from the supreme political authorities? No, this is unthinkable. Haw; therefore, � Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT \. THE .-LESSON OF PASTERNKK Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 �����311k � � -�*:..1,-tcf:447::4.1,'S�r:".'�`-'1,-:. - . can we explain the fact that these decisions were, not implemented!? The �. apparent repentance, 1t, appears to me, was dictated by the information, which had in the meantime been received by Nikita S. Khrushchev on the: internal and international repercussions of the scandal. Jib must have noticed that' the Zhdanovists of the Soviet culture apparatus had forced his, hand, and he offered Pasternak the possibility of an accommoaation. Pasternak's letter to Khrushchev was rather disappointing to many-Admirers of "Doctor Zhivago." But who can judge? We must exercise our imagination to conjure up the lynch atmosphere to which Pasternak was exposed, during a period of some ten days. To be sure, it is an embana rassing letter. Fully five times, despite the brevity of the letter, Pasternak repeats that his statement was written freely, without violence, without blackmail, without suggestions from others. "I have not been subjected to threats or to constraint," we read . . . "Nothing can force me to act against my conscience . . . ." "I have given up the prize .with- out constraint by-anyone." And so on. Would,this not seem too much for a free man in an atmosphere of serenity? The letter is basea voon a glorification of Pasternak's native soil which ominously recalls the notorious sentiment of "Blut and Baden," in sharp contrast with the internationalist tradition of the founders of Russian Communism almost all of whom knew exile, and with the work of Pasternak himself. Nobody leaves his own-country with a light heart, but if need be, one can in fact emigrate. Before being Italian, German, Russian, one is a man. � : NOMA; ,,..7)72:�Ltr�F�VgVzj'.'; THE LESSON OF PASTERNAK � 5 Finally, the references in Pasternak's letter to the circum- stances through which "Doctor Zhivago" came to be published are not truthful. And the publisher, Feltrinelli, has done well to refrain from setting the record straight -- for how, after all, can one engage in polemics with a prisoner? But we may be permitted, through an asso- ciation of ideas, to recall an episode from the period of the great Stalinist trials: A defendant, forced to confess that he had met Leon Trotsky's son in a Copenhagen hotel, gave a fictitious name -- so that from the falseness of this detail, the falseness of the entire testimony could be deduced abroad. Alas, in these days, Pasternak was so deafened by the hysterical shrieking cf the Moscow writers that he failed to perceive that, because of the alert sounded by international opinion, he was stronger than his adversaries. But "Doctor Zhivago" will survive all polemics; this is the revenge of which no dictatorship can deprive the poet. END This article appeared in the January 5, 1959, issue of The New Leader, a liberal magazine published weekly in the United States and containing articles on international and national affairs. The author is known throughout the world as a leading Italian novelist. The article has not been abridged. It has been cleared for republication in English and in trans- lation outside the United States and Canada pro- vided credit is given to the author and The New Leader. P...11t3,-!..e., � Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 g-,111M.MI PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" "My greatest wish, a quiet life" By Max Hayward From Encounter Reprinted by permission Boris Pasternak's novel, "Dr. Zhivagolu was first mentioned in the Soviet press during the thaw after Stalin's death. For almost 20 years Pasternak, once a leading figure in the Russian literary world, he.d published practically nothing. Then in April 1954 ten magnificent poems, described as "poems from the novel in prose, 'Dr. Zhivago," appeared in the magazine Znamya issued by the Soviet Union of Writers. In an intro- ductory note, signed "The Author," Pasternak wrote: "The novel will probably be completed in the course of the summer. It covers the period from 1902 to 1929, with an epilogue relating to the Great War for the Fatherland. "The hero, Yu A. Zhivago, a physician, a thinking man in search of truth, with a creative and artistic bent, dies in 1929. Among his papers written in younger days, a number of poems are found, which will be attached to the book as a final chapter. Some of them are reproduced here." Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT - �,�. _ 2. � y c=11-.1^ -F! - PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" -2 What happened in the two years between the summers of 1954 and 1956 remains shrouded in mystery. Soviet writers on visits abroad gave contradictory reports on whether and when Pasternak's novel would be finished. The author himself remained silent except for the occasional publication in Soviet periodicals of a solitary poem: or a critical ar- ticle on translations from Shakespeare. During the minor freeze-up in the autumn of 1954, marked by the condemnation of Pomerantsev's article on "Sincerity in Literature" and the removal of the poet Tvardovsky from the editorship of the magazine Novy Mir, the poems published in Znamya were mildly criticised by Soviet critics as "lacking in vitality" and "failimgto answer the call of the present day." Details of a literary intrigue are rarely ventilated in the pages of the Soviet press. We must therefore rely for our knowledge of the destiny of Pasternak's novel in that period on an official interview given to the Italian Communist paper, L'Unita (22nd October, 1957): by the secretary of the Union of Writers of the U.S.S.R.: a poet, a prominent literary bureaucrat and a member of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, Alexeyi Surkov. Surkov, who, according to L'Unita: at last gives us the true story of "Dr. Zhivago," stated that Pasternak had sent the manuscript of his novel to one of the Soviet publishing houses. The "whole collec- tive" -- by which the firm's editorial board is probably meant -- read it. They sent a private letter to- Pasternak explaining the reasons for their disagreement with him. Surkov pointed out that he could not blame those who had read this book, as he had done himself, for believing that it 7 - PASTERN&K'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" - 3 - put in doubt the validity Of the October Revolution which is described as if it were the greatest crime in Russian history. According to Surkov, Pasternak seemed to agree with some of the criticism contained in the letter and spoke of his intention to revise the text. Surkov also stated that Pasternak had sent a telegram to his Italian publisher asking him to return the manuscript (which had been used for preparing an Italian translation) to Moscow for revision. The-important part of Surkov's statement lies in the information that the novel has been condemned by a group of Writers, including Surkov himself, which explains why it has not yet appeared in the Soviet Union. What Surkov did not say in his interview with L'Unita was that, at the same time as he presented his novel to the Union of Writers for publica- tion: Pasternak had given the copyright for all translations into foreign languages to the publishing firm of Feltrinelli in Milan, who arranged for publication in English: French and German as well as an Italian ver- sion. Feltrinelli is himself a rather prominent member of the Italian Communist Party. His representative visited Pasternak in the summer of 1956 and brought the manuscript to Italy. In the year that passed between the conclusion of the agreement between the author and his Italian pub- lisher and Surkov's visit to Italy, there was plenty of time for a Russian edition to appear, perhaps even a revised one, and then of course the Italian publisher would have taken into consideration any revisions. .As nothing of the kind happened: Feltrinelli decided to stick to his original agreement with the author and refused to stop the publication of the Ital- ian translation. In a statement to the press he made it known that Surkov � �:. � � � ":07.6.,ri�-�4;"�c-f� 1.1) Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 � PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZH/VAGO" � � ��� A A ���� .11�MmarIO c'� - -4. 4" � Ot.tInVf11. tet.zt - had visited him, accompanied by an official of the Italian Communist Party, and that the two used every means. of persuasion, including Surkov's- expressed concern for Pasternak's personal safety, and various kinds of threats to force Feltrinelli to alter his decision. Prtssure was also applied to the other foreign publishers, and telegrams signed by Pasternak were received by them asking them to abandon publication. However, in a statement to foreign journalists made at his residence near Moscow in December 1957, after the appearance of the Italian translation, Pasternak expressed no regret that the novel had appeared, and put the blame for "all this nonsense" on the Soviet literary authorities who could have avoided it by permitting publication in the U.S.S.R. The situation is bedevilled by the fact of a personal rivalry between Surkov and Pasternak, of which Surkov makes no secret in his public statements. This may be seen in, for example, Surkov's attack on Pasternak in Pravda of 1st December, 1957, in which he condemns attempts to "canonise" Pasternak and other writers of similar outlook. However, Surkov must be keenly conscious of the opprobrium which would fall on him if he had to bear sole responsibility for the decision to suppress "Dr. Zhivago." He was careful to get a unanimous decision from the board which sat in judgment over the novel. Recently, verses by him were published side by side with some of Pasternak's in the Literaturnaya Gazetal probably an attempt to establish an alibi. Nevertheless, it is hardly possible that the recent efforts to stop publication abroad could. have been made only at the instigation of Surkov or other litterateurs who were moved by professional jealousy. Of A 4. STAT ..ationclaa PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" - 5 course, such jealousies would-be used by the Party in order to get the active support of Surkov and 'people like him for the effort to silence Pasternak. Butt the decision must have been taken at a higher level than the Union of Writers and from more general motives than literary jealousy. The reaion for the attitude of the Soviet authorities must there- fore be sought in the first place in the contents of the novel itself and, in the second place, in the personality of the author. Surkov'S argument that the novel was rejected because of an alleged slander on the October Revolution is not quite convincing. To begin with, there is no outright condemnation of the October Revolution as such in the novel, and the question whether the Revolution was a crime or not could never have been put by Pasternak. He does not think or speak in such categories. But even if -- by implication -- Pasternak's novel can be interpreted as an attack on the October Revolution, it does not follow that it would have been rejected outright for publication in the summer of 1956. There was, at that time, a hint in the air of an open discussion of the fundamentals of the Communist creed. Those responsible for the publication of literary works were bold enough to allow Dudintsev's novel "Not by Bread Alone" to appear in the monthly journal Novy Mir, and the Moscow writers were preparing for the second issue of "Literaturnaya- Moskva," 1956, which contained a number of bitter attacks on the policies of Government and Party. Historians were working out a revised version of the October Revolution and of the history of the Party. If misrepre- sentation of the October Revolution had been the only -- or the main -- fault of Pasternak's novel, the appearance of the novel could have been Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 \. Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" - 6 - made the opportunity for reasserting the Party line in literature. The fact that those responsible did not take this print the novel, shows that there was more to It is clear that those who read "Dr. 1956 thoughtthat; from a Party point of view, view, but decided not to it than Surkov admits. Zhivago" in the summer of the damage which would be done to the regime by its publication in the U.S.S.R. would be greater than any advantage which could be derived from exposing and criticising its shortcomings after it had appeared. There must be something in the novel, the suppression of which seemed necessary to those responsible for Soviet cultural policy even at the cost of compromising, in the eyes of the world, the reputation for liberalism which they were, at that time, trying to establish, :reative work can go Pasternak's and at the risk of destroying the blaim that artistic on unimpeded in the Soviet Union. early poetical work (his first two volumes of poems were published. in 1917 and 1922) can be regarded as a totally new depar= ture in Russian poetry. Perhaps his early ambition to become a composer (he had been a pupil of Scriabin) and the diversity of his interests in general account for the fact that the imagery of these poems is that of a fleeting; momentary association of ideas which remains unimpeded by common-sense knowledge or artistic prejudice. He would compare the eye- lid of the sleeping Helen of Troy to "a dear old apron," or say: "...The rain is fumbling on the doorstep. The rain smells Of vine-bottle corks and if you think of it," he would add, "the writings of the gentry on equality and fraternity had smelled exactly like that." Some of this imagery is impressionistic. Some of it arises from a play with � STAT � . � iT.L.4`.0.- -*V PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" - 7 alliterations and from semantic riddles. It strikes the reader for a moment as incomprehensible: sometimes as gibberish. It is only by letting the words produce the full aura of associations in the mind that the images cone alive and, after a short period during which they seem artificial and capricioub, one suddenly realises that their fleeting spontaneity could never have been the result of artifice but only of a vision which had possessed' the poet. This is why it is right to say that Pasternak's po- etry, as recorded in the few- volumes of verses which he has published, has not been his life-work, but a series of accidentally preserved samples of that poetical vision which goes on uninterruptedly as long as he breathes, and which is the very essence of his life. Realising.the identity of the poet and the human isn Pasternak's personality, we begin to appreciate the silliness of the suspicion that he could use his poetical gift for a political aim. From his parents (his father was an eminent painter and his mother an accomplished musician) Pasternak inherited the gift of poetical sight and a very elgbOrate rhythmic expression. But these gifts and tal- ents are only the pterequisites of his poetry. The poetry itself is the sum total of the events of his every-day life, of waking and going to sleep, of acting and eating. To make use of his talents for a political or, for that matter, any other extraneous purpose, would mean and concentrating certain images, certain verbal expressions, rhythms, in order to produce a desired effect on his readers. selecting even certain The Com- munist Party demands of the poets in the Soviet Union that they do this in order to produce enthusiasm for the Communist cause. This is the sense a. Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" 8 of all Party directives on poetry. What would this mean in the case of Pasternak? It would mean the suppression of some, and the wilful inter- ference with others, of the free associations of ideas and emotional reactions which constitute his poetical vision. For one whose creative moments are rare and summoned up by a deliberate effort of will this might perhaps be possible. For Pasternak and any poet of this type such an interference would mean an intolerable mutilation of all his vital activi- ties. Looking out of the window would become torture indeed if the process by which the sight of branches of trees and of the buildings and the drops of rain on the glass are transformed into a rhythmic expression of all they mean to the poet, was interfered with by a censor, who would select out of it what he believes they should mean to the reader. Pasternak's silence lasting for 20 years can only be explained as a passive resistance to such interference with his poetical life. Perhaps, in a paradoxical way so characteristic of Soviet con- ditions, Pasternak's claim for the recognition of his independence as,a poet provides an explanation of the surprising fact that he was never physically molested, imprisoned or banished under the Stalin regime. Stalin may well have believed that if nothing could be obtained from Pasternak in support of the regime, not much need be feared from him which would endanger it. Stalin knew that the stick and the carrot might be effective with Alexei Tolstoy or Ilya Ehrenburg� but would be of no avail with Pasternak. At the same time, he must have sensed what the Soviet poets and writers whom his apparatus controlled thought of Pasternak's towering superiority. It is in keeping with what we know of PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZHINAGO" - 9 - Stalin's character to assume that he held Pasternak in reserve as a kind of bogy for the controllable poets and. writers so that he could say: "If ever I allow freedom of creative work to anyone, I will allow it to Pasternak. He, at least, will produce genuine poetry whereas you, who have been serving me with your tkhaltural (pot-boiling) might make use of such freedom to serve another master." .However this may be, the fact remains that Pasternak lived in terror and frustration between the middle 1930's and the beginning of the Second World War. During the war, he remained in Moscow and. witnessed the peculiar atmosphere which prevailed in the city between October and December 1941. This period has been described more than once as a kind of crisis of liberation.* As Pasternak states expressly in his novel, the beginning of the war produced a powerful liberating effect on the mentality of the sensitive Soviet,citizein. It was probably at that momenti. when in the midst of physical privation an4 fear some natural freedom and moral courage could be recovered, that the idea of "Dr. Zhivago" was hatched. The decision to write the novel as it has been written: without fear or scruple, and to press for its publication, cannot have come easily to Pasternak. This is revealed in the first of the poems included in the Appendix to the novel. In this poem the poet is about to play the part of Hamlet. He is already on the stage and from the dark auditorium he feels the touch of a thousand opera-glasses focused on him. He prays the *Compare, for instance, such other witnesses as M. Koryakov in "The Liberation of the Soul" 5he1thov Publishing House, New York, in Russiaj and YuLia Neuman in her poem on the year 1941, described as a "pure year," because "in that year of camouflage and blackout, chicanery crumbled like plaster and we saw our neighbours without masks" fLiteraturnaya Moskva," vol. II, Moscow, 195E7. Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 PASTERNAK' S '1DR ZHIVAGO" Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 ,�41, � fr.: � � ." � - 10:- Father to spare him the ordeal. He admits that he. is rea4y, to accept the destiny of Man and that he loves the life which has been ,given to him. He is ready to fulfil the human drama and to play his part:in life. But he begs God to spare him this appearance in social isolation before a hostile and uncomprehending humanity. The order of life is, however, pre-established and the final goal of the path of his life is unavoid- able. "I am alone: everything is drowned in pharisaic hypocrisy. To live one's life is not all that easy' (is not like crossing a field, as the Russian proverb goes). It was inthismood that "Dr. Zhivago" was conceived. Pasternak's attitude towards the revolutionary events which are the setting of his novel was that of an "obyvatel" -- an untranslatable word which Russians have used since the nineteenth century to describe those among them whose attitude towards politics was exactly that of ordinary people everywhere towards the weather. For them, political conditions and circumstances were to be taken account of solely in order that they should not interfere with their personal lives. It would be sheer lunacy to attempt to interfere with these events, to jeopardise or even render more difficult personal achievements by the vain attempt to change political circumstances, just as it would be lunacy to try and influence the weather to suit our ends. "Obyvatelshchina," or the attitude of the "obyvatel," is .a typically Russian phenomenon. This form of aloofness from all things . political and social is not the result ok a narrowness of heart and mind like that of a German "spiesser." While the "obyvatel's" behavior .41�����1111.� � .4 � , � , .4,..v.V411W.W.^Wift14.74144.0. � ' . -1.2.t7r PASTERNAK S "DR ZPilVAGO" - 11 towards State authority and, in particular, every kind of police, may appear submissive and cowardly, he is capable of great personal courage and spirit of sacrifice in all personal relations and in personal mis- fortunes. His submissiveness is resilient. An "obyvatel" will enjoy official festivities, march to music in demonstrations when required, and perform all the ritual imposed on the politically reliable citizens by Authority, while remaining inwardly as aloof towards this authority, be it the Tsar or the Communist Party, as one is towards the frost or the rain, or to the causes of disease and death. The "obyvatel" has often been a rather despicable figure in Russian literature, or a figure of fun, especially in so-called "progressive" writings, but much attention has been focused on him and his human qualities ever since Pushkin's "Tales of Belkin" and Gogol's "Overcoat." The key position in Russian literature of Gogol's "Overcoat" is beyond doubt. It is the source of the stream of writings in defence of the dignity of the small man. But it is surprising that another feature % of this story has not been pointed out by the many literary historians who have discussed it. The little clerk in "The Overcoat," whose precious garment had been stolen after he had starved and saved for months to pay for it, turned for help to the Head of his Department. His Excellency gave him a dressing down: the little man went home and died. In a grotesque and whimsical epilogue, the ghost of the clerk returns to earth and disrobes His Excellency, at night in a blizzard, of his magnificent beaver-collared overcoat. It is going too far to interpret Gogol's story as a symicolic vision of the vengeance which the humble and oppressed would Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17 � CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT .� Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 � ���������... PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" � ts.1.- .4-1;.��%; , � t,�c:-���� ;��-� � . 12 wreck on all the EXcellencies almost a century later, a vision born in Gogol's schizophrenic mind and of the significance of which he was him- self possibly not conscious? In any event, the "obyvatel," while remaining an object of derision and blame became, at the same time, a pet of Russian literature, which prided itself on asserting the dignity and intrinsic value of the poor and humble. This attitude-terminated in the long gallery of Chekhov's heroes -- most of them "obyvatels," or "superfluous" men, and most of them redeemed as human beings. While this process of the gradual rehabilitation of the "obyvatel" went on in Russian prose, poetry remained essentially untouched by it. There, the polarisation of trends was characterised by the contrast between civic poetry and an attitude of "ivory tower" and "art for art's sake." Both trends had their roots in nineteenth-century romanticism. In both cases the poet claimed to serve a cause, either that of "increasing ar- tistic values in the world," or of "contributing to social progress." Abusive allegations of philistinism were flung backwards and forwards between the two camps. Revolutionary heroics took over the traditions of romanticism without having undergone purification by the realistic vision so noticeable and so beneficial in Russian prose writing. � Mayakaysky came as a Victor Hugo of the Russian Revolution. At their best moments, Russian poets were painfully.conscious of their alienation from the source of real poetry. This is why Pushkin, who would write poetry as he breathed air, towered above them as a demi-god whose works would for ever remain unsurpassed. .����Arlin, � 1 ..;%"1�"--,,pr4q4Y.21* "�-��,� -r�Z�4��;:. , �� ;-�14- � ' STAT , 'r:�� PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" -13- In his rehabilitation of the "obyvatel" attitude which ends in an apotheosis, Pasternak takes his bearings from Pushkin. He makes his hero, who has found a temporary refuge with his family in the wastes of the eastern Urals, read and comment on Pushkin: "The fabulous is never anything but the commonplace touched by the hand of a genius. The best object lesson in this respect 'is Pushkin. What an ode to honest work, duty and the common round: The words 'bourgeois' and 'obyvatel' have only become terms of abuse nowadays, but Pushkin forestalled the implied reproach in his 'Family Tree': 'A bourgeois, a bourgeois is what I am!' and again in 'Onegin's Journey': Now my ideal is the housewife/My greatest wish, a quiet life/A fat tureen of cabbage soup." The message of the novel is, to a large extent, an elaboration of this simple but surprising thought. The comparison of "Dr. Zhivago" with Tolstoy's "War and Peace," which has already been made in the press, can only cause misunderstanding. Both epics are, of course, attempts on a large scale to reflect the char- acter of an epoch, but this is the only ground for comparison. Tolstoy's novel was a reconstruction of a period based on certain preconceived ideas concerning the character of historical development and its real causes. "Dr. Zhivago" is an account of personal experience, and the unity of vision achieved by Pasternak is not conditioned by a theoretical approach to historical data as it was in the case of Tolstoy. It is the 4. " r : ...rvt Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 � -6 1 , , 4;. st:- � , � - SZ=F40:0014,40rionAtiprr. -?vgiftwagrinalemszawass PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" - unity of personal reminiscence and of poetical perception. Even had the novel not been so obviously autobiographical, it would have been personal and lyrical in this sense. It is focused on one of the protagonists, Dr. Zhivago, who is both the main hero and almost the narrator of the novel. Zhivago's personality is so close to the author that their relationship can be compared to that of Proust and the "I" of "A la Recherche de Temps Perdu." The character emerges gradmily and, even towards the end of the novel, it has still the same myopic vagueness of design which is characteristic of introspective self-knowledge. But of course, Pasternak's hero should not be identified with the author him- self. He is something of Pasternak's super-ego, whose purity of purpose, dignity and humanity Pasternak obviously admires and can hardly hope to attain. For this admiration, Pasternak takes vengenance on his hero by reducing his social effectiveness to a minimum, by making him one of the great "superfluous men" of Russian Zhivago goes through life world, but also without leaving an literature. uncorrupted by the wickedness of the imprint on it by his intentional ac- tions. The women he loves -- and who love him even more -- he loses and is unable to help. He is no father to the children whom they have by him. In spite of his psychological insight and his goodwill towards his fellow- men, he is unable to help them in their tragedies, and the story of his personal relations as a whole is that of failure and disaster. It has been said that Pasternak referred to Turgenev's Rudin as to a distant literary ancestor of Zhivago, but he seems to have more in common with .�11, =r= tar.rraw17;: PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" - 15 - Dostoevsky's "Idiot" and certain Chekhov characters. There is the same inability to transform knowledge and intention into action; and the same final triumph in failure, the triumph of the uncompromising attitude to reality, which will not be bribed by the promise of wordly success. This final justification and apotheosis of Zhivago's way of life comes towards the end of the boa and finds its most powerful expression in the lament of Lam, the great love of his life, over his dead body in Moscow in 1929. No Russian'writer before Pasternak has made this point clearer concerning the superfluous man. Unlike Dostoevsky's hero, however, Zhivago is not a Jesus-like figure. He is more like an apostle, one of those disciples who could not keep awake during the vigil of Gethsemane, referred to in the last poem at the end of the novel. Zhivago's character develops against the background of the dissolution of Russian society which culminated in the revolution of 1917. His attitude towards the great social changes is that of a sympathising and enlightened "obyvatel." Although the problems of the historical destiny add of the social development of Russia were present inhis, mind from early youth, Zhivago never thought he could influence them directly by his actions. He did not seek contact with those who believed they could do so, and it is clear from his casual encounters with them that his attitude towards their belief was, at the best, pity for ignorant enthusiasts. This does not mean that he was indifferent to the Revolution. It affected him most profoundly, and his attitude towards political events is stated in the novel with extreme clarity. In a scene with Laval long before their relationship had developed into a liaison, Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" - Zhivago philosophises about the political conditions in Russia in the high summer of 1917/ and expresses the typically "obyvatel" attitude to them, as if they were uncontrollable in the sate way as the forces of nature itself. He says: "Last night, I was watching a public meeting. What an sme7ing spectacle: Old Mother Russia is on the move. She cannot stand still any longer; she walks and . cannot stop walking; she talks and cannot stop talking; and it is not that the only speakers are the people; stars and trees have come together and are holding parleys; the flowers of the night are philosophising, stone buildings are taking part in public meetings." The idea appeals to tare, who says that she understands the trees and the stars who take part in meetings. She knows what he means and herself had such ideas. This objectivist, or naturalist attitude towards the social and revolutionary turmoil establishes the first intimate link between Zhivago and Laza, which then develops into the great love story of their lives. It is remarkable that another eminent Russian poet whose later tragic destiny means so much to Pasternak -- Marina Tsvetaeva -- had pointed out Pasternak's peculiar attitude to the Revolution as early as 1924 in a review of his second book of poems, "My Sister -- Life." There Tsvetaeva.wrote of Ppsternak's perception of the Revolution: "Pasternak did not take cover hiding from the Revolution in one of the other of the basement j STAT t. PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" -17- haunts of the intelligentsia. (There are no base- ments in the Revolution, only open squares in open fields.) Pasternak and the Revolution did actually meet. He saw her for the first time in the distance in the glow of fires shooting into the air like a corn sheaf. He heard her in the groaning flight of the roads. The Revolution reached him and was assimilated by him like everything in his life, through nature. Pasternak will say his word about the Revolution as the Revolution herself will say it at some future time. In the summer of 1917 he marched in step with her and listened to her attentively." Paradoxically, the more revolutionary events tended to inter- fere with Zhivago's personal life, the more conscious became his attitude of passive makes this historical aspects of submissiveness to their blind elemertal power. Pasternak point again and again by-combiniug every glimpse of the happenings of the autumn of 1917 with some entirely personal his hero's life. During the October days when indiscriminate shooting makes movement in the streets of Moscow practically impossible and visitors who drop in remain stranded for days in Zhivago's flat, a note of poignancy is introduced by the record of a seemingly alarming although, in the end, innocuous illness of his little son. When at last Zhivago is able to get out into the streets, he is once more overwhelmed, as he had been the summer before, by a feeling:of-the-cosmic unity of natural and social upheavals: Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 te-ta Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" "There wad'dome kind of siMilarity between what was going on in the moral and in the physical world, between occurrences near and faraway, on earth and in the atmosphere. Somewhere the last isolated shots of a broken resistance resound. Bubbles of weak: almost extinguished fires flare up and dissolve somewhere on the horizon and the blizzard chases the snow in rings and funnels of similar pattern along the steaming and wet pavements under Zhivago's feet." It isinthismooderatZhivago gets hold of a news-sheet announcing the appointment of the People's Commissars and the first decreee of the Soviet government. He realises the momentous character of the news: "...the greatness and the eternal signif- icance of that moment shook him and knocked him out." Zhivago enters the doorway of a block of flats to take cover and read the news. By one of his craftiest tricks, at exactly that moment Pasternak interrupts the story of Zhivago's reaction to what he is reading in order to introduce an unexpected personal element. There, on the stairs of an unknown house, he lets Zhivago meet a youth, a half-brother of his wham he had never met before and who plays a peculiar part in the con- struction of the novel, appearing at critical moments like the envoy of Destiny, who suggests and determines the line of behavior. By this device the author seems to remind us that historical events may be judged only in the light of their impact on individuals. And as if to drive this � 4A; 1 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 7 ps, � V,y�,; .PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" STAT -19- lesson home, Pasternak makes another :seemingly casual digression. On his way home, Dr. Zhivago takes advantage of .the darkness to steal a log of wood from a heap of demolition timber guarded by a sentry and brings it home, where fuel has been used up during the days of street fighting. At home, Zhivago comments on the significance of the news: "...the main thing is the streak of genius about it all.liadanybody been given the-task of creating a new world: of beginning a new era, his first definite need would be to have the decks suitably cleared for action. Before getting down to the construction of new epochs he would have waited for the old to finish. He would have needed a round number, a new paragraph, a blank page. And here, look at it, this unprecedented thing, this miracle of history, this revelation, has been dropped in the midst of the continuing day-to-day life with a complete disregard for its course. "The miracle has begun, not from the beginning, but from the middle. Not at a date which had been fixed in advavel but on an ordinary week-day in the very midst of the tramway traffic in the city. This is what strikes one most as a feat of genius. Only the very greatest can be so out of time and place." 71,e:1�114-.4. ' Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part- Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT estm. PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" -20- The greatness of the-revolutionary events and Zhivago's enthu- siasm about them does not mean, however, that he approved of any of the intentions of the Revolution. Years later, after the whole family had fled from starving and typhus-infested Moscow to the Urals, where they hoped to settle down as market gardeners, Zhivago's father-in-law comments on what Zhivago said in the first days of the October Revolution. Zhivago tells his father-in-law that now that they have come into a part of the world where their relatives had owned a large property before theRevo- lution, they must be quite honest with each other about their hopes, desires and aspirations: "We must agree- beforehand on the way in which to behave in certain circumstances) in order not to be ashamed of each other and not to put each other to shame." What Zhivago means is obviously the attitude they should adopt in case of a counter-revolutionary coup (White Guard detachments were roaming quite near the station where the conversation took place), and whether they would, in this eventuality, claim any part of the property to which Zhivago's wife might be entitled. Zhivago's father-in-law, Gromeko, answers: 'Do you remember that winter blizzard night when you brought the news-sheet with the first decrees? Do you remember how that was absolutely final? Its uncompromising character subdued us: but such things live in their original purity only in the heads of their - PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" - 21 7 creators, and that only on the first day of their announcement. By the next day, the Jesuit hypocrisy of politics turns everything inside out. What can I tell you? This philosophy /hat is, communis.27n is alien to me. This government is against us. I was not asked whether I agreed to this general break-up. But they trusted me and the way I behaved, even if I acted under pressure, puts an obligation on me." The old man explains to Zhivago that he is not going to claim any rights in the property of his in-laws, but will merely use his con- tacts in order to settle on the land and make a living out of it. "The history of private property in Russia," says old Gromeko, "has come to an end. And we personally, the Gromekos, had already said good-bye to the passion for acquisition in the Nineteenth Century." This is the style in which Pasternak speaks of political reality affecting the private lives of his heroes. There is no criticism or discussion of the intentions, aspirations and political manoeuvring of those who claimed to direct revolutionary events. What concerns Pasternak is: what Should a man like his hero do when faced with such changes, in order to preserve his moral integrity, and to survive without breaking up his personal identity? Zhivago is contrasted with another character who appears in two different aspects. Pavel Antipov is a working-class boy, an orphan, brought up by a family of railway workers, a gifted, tormented mind who, Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release @ 50-Yr 2014/06/17 � CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 �-� STAT PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" 22 after completing his university studies and marrying a girl whom he considers socially superior to him, becomes an intellectual. The girl is the same Lara who later, when abandoned by him, becomes the grand amour of Zhivago. While Zhivago is the type of "obyvatel," Antipov is the "activist" par excellence. Pasternak sums up his character at the end of the first volume, in the following words: "Two features, two passions were characteristic of him: his thinking was uncommonly clear and correct and, to an equally uncommon degree, he.had the gift of moral purity and justice, and his feelings were warm and noble. But what stopped him becoming the kind of scholar who blazes new trails was that his brain lacked that talent for the arbitrary, that force which by unpredicted discoveries shatters the barren harmony of sterile predictions. "And. so far as doing good was concerned, though he was a man of principle, he was lacking in that unprincipledness of the heart which knows nothing of generalizations, concerning itself solely with individual instances, the heart whose greatness rests on the very littleness of its actions. "From his early childhood, Pavel longed for the very highest and brightest ideals. In. his view, life was a huge arena in which, honestly IND PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZBIVAGO" - 23 - adhering to the rules, men were competing in their progress to greater perfection. "When he found out that this was not so, it did not occur to him that he had been wrong in having a much too simplified idea of the world order. his obviously refers also to the failure of Pavel's marriage to Laraj Having buried his grievance deep in his soul, he began playing with the idea of some time becoming supreme judge in the contest between life and the dark forces which corrupted it. He daydreamed of drawing his sword in defence of life and so of avenging it. "Disappointment made him bitter. Revo- lution armed him." Antipov turns up in the novel under a new identity and a new name, Strelnikov, as a leader of the Red Army forces in the Urals. Zhivago is arrested while wandering on the railway line by some Red Army men who believe him to be a spy. He is brought to Strelnikov, who realises that a mistake has been made and that Zhivago has been taken for somebody else. Strelnikov tells him that he will be freed, but asks him why he happens to be in this remote part of the Urals. Is he by chance the heir of the owners of the local factories? Zhivago admits that "his wife was, indeed...but what has this to do with it?" He has come to the Urals to find peace in the wilderness. Strelnikov presses Zhivago, asking him why he has not joined the Red Army, since he is a doctor. VaigalW. � bt, � � e+,,' � � � .ffin. Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" "After all, you are a doctor, an Army doctor at that, and this is war-time. This concerns me directly. A deserter.. .The Green Partisans are also looking for quiet in the forests. What is your reason for not being in the Arny7?" Zhivago: "I was wounded twice and invalided out of the Army" Strelnikov/Antipov: "And now, I expect, you will produce a certificate from the People's Commissariat of Education or from the People's Commissariat of Health to attest that you are a completely dependable Soviet citizen, a sympathiser, and politically reliable. This, my dear sir, is the Last Judgment on earth. Beasts of the Apocalypse, winged and sword-bearing, are roaming about and not sympathising and politically reliable doctors. But I have told you already that you are free and I shall not go back on my word. But this is only for this time. I feel that we shall meet again and then the conversation might turn out differently. Be on your guard." The threat does not affect Zhivago, and he answers: "I know all you are thinking of me. From your point of view you might be quite right. The debate into which you are trying to draw me, I have _ 24 � _ � tr�rwiarok, � 4 PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" 25 been carrying on all through my life with an imaginary accuser and, you will admit, I have had plenty of time to come to a conclusion of sorts. Allow* me to go if I am indeed free and, if I am not, dispose of me. I do not have to justify any of my actions to you." The two men part at this point and the significance of their encounter only becomes evident much later in the course of the narrative, when the second meeting between them takes place in the same area many months after the first. Zhivago has, in the meantime, become the lover of Antipov's abandoned wife. He has been kidnapped by Red Partisans and has gone through the most cruel and inhuman campaign ever fought in the Russian Civil War, that of the Siberian Partisans. After his return to the Urals, in a fit of despair he has let the woman whom he loved go away to the Far East in order to save her from possible political complications in which he might become involved. He lives alone in the house where they had been happy together, and there he meets Strelnikov/Antibov again. Strelnikov's position has also changed in the meantime. Like so many of the ex-officers employed in the Civil War as defenders of the Soviet power, he was denounced As a traitor and a price was put on his head. He went into hiding in the forestsj but is hounded down and, as a last resort, cones to the lonely house inhabited by Zhivago. The meeting of the two men marks the highest point of the drama in which they are involved. They establish a kind of brotherhood which calls to mind the last scene in Dostoevsky's "Idiot," the scene in Rogozhin's house near the corpse Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 .0���11:111, PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" -26- of Nastasia Filipovna. Strelnikov shoots himself in the night, and Zhivago remains alive to go back on a long trek through Russia to Moscow, where he vegetates for a few years as a kind of free-lance educationalist and then ends up an intellectual tramp, an outcast of a society whose standards he cannot accept. The contrast between the two characters -- Zhivago and Strelnikov/ Antipov -- is the central ideological theme of the novel. It is the contrast between the "obyvatel," who possesses the qualities of heart necessary to do the microscopic good of which alone he feels that man is capable in this world, and the "activist" or fanatic. Both perish in the social turmoil ruled by laws which have nothing to do either with the emotions and the common-sense of Zhivago, or the high ideals and the stilted theories of Strelnikov/Antipov. Pasternak leaves us in no doubt where his sympathies lie in the contest between these two characters. Speaking of Antipov and his like earlier in the novel, he says: "For them, transitional periods, worlds in the making are ends in themselves. They are not trained for anything else, they don't know anything else. And. do you know why there is this incessant whorl of never-ending preparations? It's because they have no specific natural talents, they are not gifted for anything. Man is born to live, not to prepare for life. Life itself -- the gift of life -- is such a breathtakingly serious thing -- so why substitute this childish harlequinade of adolescent phantasies, these schoolboy escapades?" c .1-- � .2: STAT 6 Ir PASTERNAK1S "DR. ZRIVAGO" - 27 - Because of this talent for life Zhivago is loved, by all those to whose happiness he has been so tragically impotent to contribute. There is no selfish egotism in this man, as Pasternak shows. Weak and doomed to failure as he might appear when judged by the results of his ventures, his hero, the great "superfluous man," is the bearer of that tolerant, merciful attitude towards other human beings on which alone a human society not doomed to self-destruction can be founded. It is in the poetry at the end of the volume that this point is made most clearly. These twenty-five poems are, in a sense, the most important part of the work. Taken by themselves, however, they would have been only samples of personal, erotic and devotional lyric. By attaching them to his one hundred and forty thousand-word novel, Pasternak demonstrates the live connection of these poem with at least one possible set of individual human circumstances: those of his hero's life. Who are the people to whom Pasternak is sending his message, and whom the Soviet authorities are now so eager to prevent hearing it? TtAr are neither Communist "activists" nor revolutionaries who would rise up in arms in order to overthrow the Soviet regime and, in this sense, any accusation that the novel is "counter-revolutionary" is absurd. The people to whom Pasternak appeals are the Russian "obyvatel" of our days, mainly intellectuals and also the small, unimportant people who neither join actively in Party and Government campaigns nor resist them actively; and who, by their very passivity, preserve a certain degree of integrity of judgment and of emotional spontaneity. Such people, in fact the overwhelming majority of the population of the -", Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 4 3 e Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 IP 41, t.4 ^ � . _ � i'4?t:e.3` 4 STAT PAWIRRAK'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" - 28 - U.S.S.R., have been taught to believe for the last 40 ylars that they,are in every respect inferior to the selected active fighters for a better society. In the official view, those who dare tC fight for social ideals may perish when they go wrong, but they have nevertheless led a conscious, purposeful life and they are far above any loyal and well-intentioned "obyvatel." The latter is destined for ever to remain a mere object of political action and it is his duty patiently to endure every discomfort and to acojuiesce in the praise with which the "activists" reward their own efforts for the establishment of general happiness. � It is to this mass of passive sufferers, and mainly to those whose passivity is intentional, that Pasternak addresses his message. He does not urge them to activity, to an organized resistance, of which they are probably not capable. What he does is to instil in them a sense of dignity'ariduperiority over the "activists," a superiority which 116 claims for his hero and of which he himself is so justifiably conscious. But; although-in no vulgar sense subversive, the novel certainly contains a most devastating criticism of the very foundations of official Soviet enthusiasm. The real danger it presents to the regime is that it destroys the position of moral superiority of the political "activists" and restores the confidence of those who are seeking nothing more than their right to love nature and to follow in their actions the inclinations of their heart. The compelling power of Pasternak's argument is not based on any theoretical view, but on a direct poetical Vision of Soviet society and of the mechanism by which its ideological foundations are maintained. PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZRIVAGO" - 29 - In a scene towards the end of the novel, two friends of Dr. Zhivago, Dudorov and Gordon, are talking, and one of them whohas just completed his first stay in a concentration camp and has been restored to his position as a university teacher explains how grateful he is to his G.P.U. interrogator and to his experience in prison and in the camp for having helped him to grow in stature. Pasternak describes Zhivago 'S reaction: "Dudorov's reasoning appealed to Gordon precisely because it was so hackneyed. He nodded in sympathy and agreed with everything. Dudorov said. He was touched by the very triteness of Dudorov's words and thoughts, and he took the second-hand nature of these copybook sentences as a sign of their human universality. Dudorov's virtuous words were in the spirit and it was just because they were so transparently sanctimonious, revolted by them. A man who is idealises his bondage. This is of the times, so pre-ordained, that Zhivago was not free always how it was in the Middle Ages and the Jesuits always made play with it. Zhivago could not stand the political mysticism of the Soviet intelligentsia which was the height of its achievement, or, as they would have said in those days, the spiritual ceiling of the epoch. "I found it painful to listen to you, Dudorov, when Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 � - STAT ��3. PASTERNAK/S "DR. ZHIVAGO" 30 - you told us how you were re-educated and grew in stature while you were in gaol; it was like listen- ing to a circus horse describing how it broke itself in.'" It is hardly probable that such literary bureaucrats as Surkov could understand and estimate all the dangers Pasternak's novel presents for the ideological foundations for the regime. But they must instinc.;.- tively realise that once a work of art of such spontaneity has reached the public, they will not be able to look their readers in the eye when repeating the hackneyed conventional phrases with which they fill their writings. The situation is made even more complicated by the well-known tendency of the Russian reader to identify himself with a literary type, sometimes without a shadow of justification. How many junior lieutenants of the Red Army have thought of themselves as Prince Andrey of "War and Peace"? How many passive, lazy, submissive, forever frightened "obyvatels," having read "Dr. Zhivago," Will identify themselves with Pasternak's hero and become less manageable through having their self-respect and human dignity restored to them, as more than one hundred years ago Gogol tried to do for the oppressed and humiliated of his day in "The Overcoat"? �����1�;;�� - _q4rk - - �����!.'; �-� 234;;�����,1".� 4157.1::tirt7,4 � ,z� � 7-�-;,..-,!1;:: , , PASTERNAK'S "DR. ZHIVAGO" I q_ - 31 - This may well be the reason why the "activists" of our day are trying tc prevent the Russians from reading the greatest novel which has been written in their tongue in this century. far, �'" END This article appeared in the May 1958 issue of Encounter, a monthly journal of opinion published in London. The writer, an outstanding scholar in the field of Soviet affairs, was one of the translators who rendered "Dr. Zhivago" into Eng- lish. He is presently at the Russian Research Center at Harvard University on a fellowship. The article has been cleared for republication in English and in translation outside the United States and Canada provided credit is given to the author and Encounter. Abridgment rights were not obtained. � Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release . 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 = \. , , \.� STAT We must eliminate the gap between the wishes of the unsophisticated masses and the superior claims of Socialist culture." -- 1958 directive of the Hungarian Communist Party Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release . 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 2. � t t 1�116~PiPM...grdiormr=,.... STAT Tibor Dery, often referred to as the intellectual leader of Hungary's 1956 freedom uprising, was given a nine�year pri�n sentence in November, 1957, for what the Kadar regime called "leadership of an organization aimed at overthrowing state order." Long a prominent Hungarian writer, the aging Dery had been expelled from the Communist Party in the summer of 1956 for making statements critical of party practices. GYORGY LUKACS: HUNGARY'S HERETICAL MARXIST By Paul Landy (Mr. Landy, one of the writers who left Hungary after that country's unsuccessful 1956 independence uprising, has written numerous articles on Eastern European affair's.) Hungary's famous Marxist theoretician, writer and philosopher Gyorgy Lukacs, is one of the best examples I know of what happens to Communist subjects whose thinking ranges too far from the party's ideo- logical position at any given time. This aging, internationally known scholar, who was exiled to Rumania after the Hungarian uprising, recently was denounced anew because he refused to recant his "revisionist" ideas concerning the rights of individuals in a Marxist state. Specifically, Lukacs was attacked for making "wrong" statements about the Hungarian anti-Soviet rebellion of 1956 and for harboring various views on Marxism not in keeping with the party's interpretation. As an object lesson to those intellectuals who still imagine that a certain amount of free thinking is permitted in Communist-ruled countriess Lukacs1 experiences are particularly noteworthy. Now in his mid-seventies, Lukacs' career has embraced the whole period of Soviet Communism. A scholarly student of both Marxism and literature who has produced a number of works on both subjects, he was one of the founders of the Hungarian Communist party) served as cultural Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 �11. � .411�14M11, 44,vg.taWigneMERIEMEMERgiosmagex GYORGY LUKACS: HUNGARY'S HERETICAL MARXIST - 2 - commissar in his country's short-lived 1919 Communist regime and, more recently, was Minister of Culture during the administration of Imre Nagy. Never a strict conformist to narrow party concepts, Lukacs was often at logger-heads with Marxist theorists in the Soviet Union, where he lived for a number of years. Perhaps because he was so highly regarded by European students of Marxism, Lukacs escaped open attack by reigning Communist officials until the upsurge of Hungarian resistance to Soviet rule in 1956. Regarded by some as the spiritual father of the Petofi literary group which helped spark the popular uprising in Budapest, Lukacs ex- pressed views' about that movement which he has consistently refused to renounce, despite the party's determined efforts to force him into con- fessing his past "errors." Inquisitors of the current Kadar regime, apparently on Soviet orders, have attacked the venerable philosopher for insisting that the Hungarian freedom revolt was a. genuine revolution, and not, as the regime claims, a counter-revolutionary plot sponsored by fascist or "imperialist" agents. They were particularly infuriated by Lukacs' statement, in October of 1956, that "real democracy, embodied in revolutionary youth, is capable of sweeping away the remnants of Stalirism. The enhancing of democratic freedom ad self-autonomy is the real basis for determining the Hungarian road to socialism." For expressing such heretical views, and because he was also ,a member of the Nagy government, Lukacs was exiled to Rumania along with Hungary's freedom premier and other associates. -4446.4;7.3.0 .er.� . , ..4 . � A � GYORGY LUKACS: HUNGARY'S HERETICAL MARXIST - 3 - Although spared the death penalty imposed later on Nagy, General Pal Maleter and other leaders of Hungary's uprising, Lukacs was brought back to his homeland in 1957 and given an ultimatum to recant his views and lend his support to the regime's activities. Lukacs' refusal to cooperate was followed by a series of ideo- logical attacks in the party press and the imposition of whet can only be described as "internal exile." Whether or not Lukacs has been under actual house arrest, as reported, he is obviously being treated as a traitor to the Communist state. His future, barring a pressured confession, is no more promising that that of any other Communist subject who has been branded as a revisionist. Revisionists, of course, are those who refuse to accept every Communist party ideological pronouncement as un- questionable truth. In the field of literary criticism, Lukacs' belief that "the task of Marxist science is to consider literary works objectively" is anathema to those Soviet and satellite leaders who have condemned Boris Pasternak and other writers for committing the crime of thinking for themselves. The Hungarian philosopher has been subjected to a particularly sharp series of attacks for rejecting the party's right to control litera- ture and for daring to state that Lenin himself had no such permanent intention. Ironically, the dilemma of Communism's official spokesmen has been intensified because, in spite of the campaign to discredit his views, Lukacs is still admired and respected by individual intellectuals through- out the Soviet bloc. 77. ' �-�,:" Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 # # # STAT Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 wzmirvatmegiewsnowseswermwimillanrAIMIREIGNEM STAT �":� 4:7 LET THE AUDIENCE DECIDE: (A Hungarian Dramatist's Conclusion About Theatrical Propaganda) By Janos Torok (Mr. Torok, a young playwright and director who was intimately associated with Hungarian theatrical life for six years, left Hungary after his country's unsuccessful 1956 freedom revolt.) I entered the Hungarian theatrical field in 1949 -- the year the Communist regime nationalized all the theaters which until then had operated under private management. Materially, nationalization benefited our theatrical people. The regime poured money into the theater. There was no unemployment among us. Theaters were opened throughout the provinces, in towns that had never before had a permanent, resident theatrical troupe. These provincial theaters were fully staffed, which meant security for actors and actresses who had grown accustomed to a , precarious existence between jobs. The pay was good -- as a director, I earned between six thousand and seven thousand forints per month, or nearly ten times as much as the average laborer. And two of those twelve months were for vacation, with full pay. We were important to the Communist regime -- state funds were lavished upon us. Half a million forints was not too great a sum to spend on the stage sets for a single play. A playwright who was com- missioned to write a new work would receive an advance payment of thirty thousand forints, sometimes more, against his potential royalties. Even Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 la Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 � LET THE AUDIENCE DECIDE! SIND without a specific commission, he could apply to the Writers' Union for the loan of a sum like ten thousand forints, which was provided with- out interest and deducted in easy instalments from his future income. If the playwright wanted to work in the quiet of the country, the 'Union would see to that too -- arranging minimal rates at one of the several luxury retreats set aside for the "new aristocracy." The theater was a� spearhead of Communist propaganda. That was why we belonged to the "net aristocracy." Consider what this meant in terms of practical economics. A ticket for the best seat in a Budapest theater cost eighteen forints -- the rates of admission were deliberately kept reasonable, to encourage attendance. It cost the management thirty- six forints per seat to raise he curtain each night. In view of the plays we were presenting, a' theater would lose fourteen thousand forints per performance-- and continue night after night. Our theaters were' operating at a loss. The principal ingredient of a theatrical production is a' play. But the playwright was operating at a loss too -- a loss of integrity and individuality. The substantial advance he received was for a play � written to order. Here is how it worked: the leaders of the Writers' Union, or the manager of a theater, would suggest the theme for a play. Union leaders and theatrical managers, if not Communist Party members I themselves, were responsible to the Party and acutely responsive to the' Party line. The manager of one theater at which I worked in Budapest was a former trade union leader, qualified for this post only because he had taken part in amateur theatricals. In other words, he was not qual- ified at all, except as an acquiescent supporter of the regime. The play , � � '''..*.������� ��� A Att.' STAT LET THE AUDIENCE DECIDE! - 3 proposed 'by such a figurehead had to be written fast -- while the theme he suggested-was still politically valid. The most successful play- wright was the lone. who could turn out a play overnight, or in a week's time. Otherwise the play-night not be accepted, much less produced -- so rapidly did the Party line change. The fact is that a playwright's economic security depended upon his political versatility� the skill and speed with which he could custom-tailor the desired product. It was hackwork. Some will argue that many plays in the theaters of the free world too, by and large, are tailored to suit the public taste. This misses the point. Under our system, plays were written to suit the offi- cial taste. A direbtor and his cast would struggle to breathe vitality into... the script they were given. Then the entire Party secretariat would appear at the dress rehearsal �.and the subsequent comments might delay an opening night for an entire week, while adjustments of script and presentation were made. A theatrical performance, anywhere, is a dynamic thfng -- adjust- ments are always made, both:Ibtfore and after the opening night. An audi- ence fails to grasp the meaning of a piece of stage business -- you adjust the gesture or the scene to sharpen its dramatic truth. A line of dia- logue, which you thought so telling, falls flat -- you rewrite it. But we were doing, the opposite., Let the audience decide? We were adjusting dramatic truth to official4ruth. The bureaucrat's criticism replaced the weight of audience response. -And so, when we presented our glittering, expensive, custom-built fabrications, the spectators -- whose taxes paid for the subsidized theater -- stayed away. , L � .."1� Per � 7,1"-a4 YPP. ' Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT LET THE AUDIENCE DECIDE! - 4 What 'happened in Moscow determined political validity in capitals like Budapest -- and these capitals were always behind the Moscow trend, which veeed without warning. Often in disgust a playwright dropped his efforts at originality and turned to adaptations of Soviet plays. . Such adaptations were safer to produce, and theater managers accepted them somewhat more readily than they accepted Hungarian originals. Adaptation of a Soviet play for stage or radio -- this was especially well paid. It did not matter that Hungarian audiences were largely in- different to such Soviet exports. They were by no means indifferent to the real merit of Russian dramatic art, which at its best is truly great. The dazzling Moscow theatrical company, like the Moscow ballet, won wide enthusiasm in Budapest. The classics of the Russian stage, presented as accomplished Soviet troupes present them, draw large audiences everywhere. But Soviet propaganda plays, however well adapted, and staged, cannot hold a Hungarian audience. On the screen and on stage we saw the heroics of the Bolshevik Revolution as that revolution is now officially portrayed -- the guerilla warfare, the triumph of partisan elements over organized military might. Hungarian authorities distributed free tickets to trade unions, to youth groups, to university students, to students at the Dramatic Arts Academy and the Institute of Cinematographic Arts. I don't suggest that nobody used those free tickets, even though theaters in Budapest were half-empty when propaganda plays and films were- shown. Seeing those plays and films, students and young workers learned the tactics of street fighting -- and applied the lesson to'advantage dur- ing the uprising. 1. LET THE AUDIENCE DECIDE! - 5 I have sometimes been asked why so many Hungarian theatrical personalities, individual artists who unlike myself took no active part in the revolt and were not sought by the hated secret police, left Hungary when the opportunity for flight came. There is no question about the privileges we had in Hungary-- we were among the elite. I guess those of us who left, regardless of whether we had fought in the streets or not, simply did not want to be puppets in an official showcase any longer. We were tired of the subter- fuge required of those who wanted to strike even the slightest note of originality and were willing to let the audience decide. We had enough of doctrine instead of dramatic art. We wanted a chance to be ourselves, professionally and personally. I don't want to draw a picture of pure idealism. I imagine each of us wants to succeed in his field, be well paid again and enjoy public prestige-- I know I do. Whatever the country we are in, it is clearly not going to be easy. For stage or radio or television, one has to learn the language of the audience and the practices of the profession. That can be done. Hungarian actors and directors and writers have achieved success abroad in the past. Success or not, we want a chance to show what we can do -- and let the audience decide. Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 11" Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 ...1411111 Yi�--;!-; 1 LITERARY OMENS IN EASTERN EUROPE By Paul Landy (Mr. Landy is a former Budapest writer and editor who left Hungary after his countryts unsuccessful 1956 freedom,re- bellion and now makes his home in Austria. He has written numerous articles about current conditions in Eastern Europe.) Gradually, almost unnoticed as yet but promising to become pro- foundly significant, a new organization is taking shape in Eastern Europe. It is a sort of "Council for Mutual Cultural Assistance" which, with its sub-committees and inconspicuous communiques, bears a certain resemblance to the well-known Communist Council of Mutual Economic Assistance. Its undeclared but recognized purpose is to stifle and channelize intellectual ferment, to set the tone and pace of cultural development -- and to decide the measure of freedom to be allowed in the creative arts. What seemed to be solitary developments in the field of so- called "cultural exchangel." have now become part of an emerging pattern. The meeting of Soviet and satellite historians in East Germany last year, for example, was followed in quick succession by conferences of Communist architects, film and theater experts, representatives of the entertainment industries, jazz composers, circus and variety show directors. The communique issued after the Prague conference on entertainment and jazz, on October 29, 1958, called on Socialist musicians "to compose songs for the people which are imbued with the spirit of our Socialist present." � ����;:,r-; :.' � � - . Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 STAT LITERARY OMENS IN EASTERN EUROPE r-� ��� _ iciect"ItliljelEallajanntENSWIEMEMENIMP � 2 The visits of writers and cultural delegations to other Bloc countries have set a hitherto unprecedented pace. In one recent ten- month period, for instance, 12 official delegations, seven groups of artists and 370 cultural experts visited Soviet Russia from Hungary alone. Additionally, East German and Czech cultural functionaries have lectured Hungarian artists and writers on the lofty ideals of Socialist realism. In 1959, from all indications, the output of publishing com- panies will be more tightly coordinated than ever before. Soviet, East German, Hungarian and other Communist-controlled countries have arranged for scores of joint publications and for the "comparing, exchanging and coordinating" of publication lists in advance. These measures are in- tended to repair the cultural facade of the Communist bloc, which was cracked by disintegration in the post-Stalin period. Hungary, perhaps better than any other country, demonstrates the interdependent relationship between "brotherly criticism" by Soviet spokesmen and the internal anti-intellectual drive. Recently, in a review of Hungarian theatrical life, the Moscow Literary Gazette warned that "no good can come for the building of Com- munism from such plays as "Teahouse of the August Moon" (which proved highly popular with Budapest audiences) or from the decadence of French existentialist plays." The Moscow critic added: "Some Hungarian theatrical workers are kow-towing to the decadent American theatre and are full of aamiration for the art of Broadway." - � ���-� � 4 6 2$�:::-." - LITERARY OMENS IN EASTERN EUROPE - 3 - Somewhat later, Elet es Irodalom interviewed Balint Magyar, the famed director of the Theater of the Army. Magyar defended his presenta- tion of non-Communist plays by explaining that "our program expresses the ideals of humanism." Party critics immediately attacked Magyar's stand and charged that the Theater of the Army was not worthy of its name. As a result, three Budapest theater directors, including Balint Magyar, and five directors of provincial theatres were fired. Hungarian theaters now play heavily-subsidized propaganda plays, such as "Blindfolded," which concerns a young student who "turned against his own class during the counterrevolution." The recently-published Communist cultural directives reaffirm that no totalitarian society can tolerate free expression. The general dilemma of creative artists is that of conforming to a myth of unknown proportions, which is commonly called "socialist realism." Ever since Maxim Gorki coined the term in the early thirties, Communist theorists have been arguing and differing as to the precise meaning, and content of these two vague words. There is still no clear cut general definition of whether they denote a method, trend or theory. But every "apparatchik" seems to know what socialist realism is not. In theory at least, writers, painters and playwrights are supposed to be their own censors. But the State, which has all the printing and publishing facilities, has built up an elaborate structure of control to make sure there are no slips. A writer can write and submit any manuscript. Its publication, however, depends on the opinion, first of the trained copy-reader, then on officials in the Ministry of -'�2�� Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 0 STAT 40. LITERARY OMENS IN EASTERN EUROPE - 4 Culture and the Party's Agit-Prop Department. The same applies to all aspects of the creative arts. Recently, the Party also criticised the Fund of Creative Arts; which buys paintings. This organization bought: almost exclusively, landscapes and still life, paintings and drawings which "are permeated with naturalism and imliressionism." Later.,- Nepszabadsag rebuked the School of Modern. Arts, where there are merelY 11 Party members out of 150 students. The young painters were accused of indulging in anti- realistic experiments. "The Party does not demand that every writer create in the ' spirit of socialist realism," Communist cultural directives specify. "But it cannot tolerate a literature which advocates hopelessness, dis- illusionment, paralyzes the thinking of the people or nurtures nation- alist, chauvinist and. bourgeois remnants in the minds of the people." The choice of subject or approach, therefore: is limited and the indi- vidual artist is at the mercy of the Party's control-organs. There are varying penalties for deviation from the approved line. Some offenders are merely rebuked, such as the promising young essayist, Mihaly Suekoesd, who wrote an enthusiastic introduction to a Hemingway novel: but forgot to point out "the author's ingrained pessimism and decadence;" or Gyula Illyes, the greatest living poet of Hungary, who, ea after a silence of two years, published a slender volume of :his trans- lations of Chinese poems. He was reprimanded: however, becalle neg- lected to praise the "new China" in his introduction and because he failed to include works by Communist poets. - ' .� ,T,��� � � - 71� LITERARY OMENS IN EASTERN EUROPE - 5 - Other offenders are fired, such as Tames Toeroek, a young and too original Radio Budapest script writer: and Geza Hegedues, director of a firm which dared to publish the poems and essays of "compromised" authors. Some, such as Endre Gellert, Kossuth prize-winning director of the National Theatre, who committed suicide in September of 1958: cannot endure the intolerable strain of Communist censorship. But the majority of those who can be called truly creative artists, while forced to assume a cooperativeexterior: continue to think and dream in private, hoping for a future time when they can work and produce as self-respecting individuals. * * * * * , Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 � a Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 - a, %;;AWEE��5ggemennionaminewmaz � � � PL-r � - �-�i� ��� SATELLITE THEATERGOERS REBEL AGAINST BOREDOM By Paul LandY (Mr. Landy is a former Budapest writer and editor who left Hungary after his country's unsuccessful 1956 freedom up- rising. From his vantage point in Vienna, he is currently specializing as a commentator on East European affairs.) STAT Recent visitors to the satellite capitals of Eastern Europe have been surprised to find excited crowds lining up to buy tickets for perform- ances of non-Communist films, plays and musicals. Communist officials, however, have their own reasons for permit- ting this seemingly paradoxical state of affairs. For one thing, satellite leaders apparently feel that the grant- ing of minor entertainment concessions is a relatively harmless way of allowing the people an escape valve for their pent-up irritation and boredom. Members of the Communist ruling apparatus, despite their in- sistence that "all is calm and under control," seem to realize that the boredom which appears to be an unavoidable accompaniment of the party's dictatorship must be prevented from developing into a more serious type of social unrest. There is boredom with party jargon, boredom with the disparity between word and deed, boredom with the whole heritage of a Communist decade. The satellite regimes appear to be trying to counter this sense � � � �3. � ara'.4 1.2p4 � ,t, ,1* Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 zr.z.4A-� 4 � �%-r.f...1. t..�� ' SATELLITE THEATERGOERS REBEL AGAINST BOREDOM 2 of irritation and isolation from the rest of the world partly by economic concessions and partly by a more liberal attitude toward popular entertain- ment. Communist officials, however, are finding that a solution for their self-created problem is far from simple. An impressive list of facts points up the inherent dilemma of entertainment circles in the Communist states. Plays and films which ' receive official praise and recognition have proved to be flops, while films and theatrical products condemned for their "petty-bourgeois and decadent tendencies" have had popular runs. In Poland, out of a total of 3,400 motion pictur,e theaters, only 96 have been profitable. In Hungary: 300 film theaters were on the verge of closing until a 30 per- cent increase in the price of tickets and a system of government sub- sidies saved them. In Bulgaria, the biggest box-office successes have been the locally produced -"Legend of Love," "Year of Love" and "On A Little Island." However, these very films were censured by the Party's Central Committee for "undermining Communist ideology: distorting and wrongly representing the character of the people's revolutionists." What, on the other hand, has been the fate of works rich in Communist ideology? Some Hungarian provincial theaters which tried to conform with party guidance and filled their repertoires with Soviet productions and other straight propaganda plays finished their seasons in virtual bank- ruptcy. The National Theater of Miskolc/ largest provincial town in A -^ � � � � ,-�-� - � "- L.,���� - '� " J 4 STAT SATELLITE THEATERGOERS REBEL AGAINST BOREDOM 3 Hungary, played consistently before houses a quarter or half-filled during the last season. On one occasion only seven theater-goers turned up for a performance of "One Night" by Gorbatov. The Kecskemet Theater finished its season with a 50,000 dollar (one million forints) deficit. The National Theater of Gyor was given high official praise for its "excellent performances of Soviet and Czech plays." But the box-office results were so appalling that the manager resigned in the middle of the season. This theater went bankrupt despite heavy subsidies. Conversely, those theaters and playhouses in Hungary and Poland whose managerG bowed to popular demand have played to full houses. In Poland, 19 modern "western" plays had successful 1958 runs. In Hungary the plays of Tennessee Williams, Thornton Wilder and John Osborne, as well as pre-war operettas and light musical comedies, are unrivalled as box-office hits. Party spokesmen have repeatedly scolded directors of cultural centers and theaters for saying "we go bankrupt with modern Socialist plays, for works with topical themes can be neither artistic, nor suc- cessful, so let's turn back to bourgeois entertainment." The University Playhouse in Budapest has tried both ways. A series of shows about revolutionary songs and poets were producd for small audiences. The next program concentrated on popular folk songs and a recital of Burns' poems. As Nepszabadsag remarked, the directors "avoided with painful cautiousness the modern Soviet and Hungarian Socialist works, assuming that in doing so they could avoid the empty - � -��"6,7-i."4` � �". , � Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50 Yr 2014/06/17 � CIA-RDP81- 4 Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release � 50-Yr 2014/06/17: CIA-RDP81-01043R003400130004-2 ,::-.;4:1;:::12e.f.:_ii!