261
Alexander Dymshils
REALISM AND MODERNISM
 

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p The diametrical opposition between realism and modernism came to light long ago. It made its appearance in Russia at the turn of the last century, when modernist ideas tirst began lo emerge in the work of the decadents and symbolists. These ideas were immediately challenged by the revolutionary literature which appeared before the October Revolution and the early works of socialist realism, the books of such writers as Gorky, Seralimovich. Demyan Bedny and Mayakovsky. This militant literary movement is one of Ihe most important sources of the great school of Soviet literature which grew up in the years immediately following the revolution and is now alive and flourishing.

p There has always existed a bitter ideological and aesthetic struggle between realism and modernism. It is a struggle of diametrically opposed world outlooks, artistic methods and socio-aesthetic altitudes towards life and art. The ideals of public service and responsibility lo the people, history and progress combat wilh Ihe concepts of withdrawal from life and an individualist, anarchistic, subjeclivisl approach to art. It is a clash between art dealing wilh carefully selected and well thought-out social subjects, using the images of Ihe different artislic media and helping to solve social and aesthetic problems on the one hand, and a capricious, wilful altitude towards life, arl, the reader and the spectator on the other. It is a struggle between art which has its roots in the people (in the case of socialist realism these roots are in Ihe people and Ihe Communist Parly), art which strives to give expression to 262 progressive aspirations and the revolutionary will of the people, and that which is based on “self-expression” and is becoming more and more subjectivist.

p The present-day advanced realism, socialist realism, and bourgeois modernism and formalism, have very definite traditions. Soviet art primarily draws on and develops all that pertains to a realistic perception and representation of life. At the same time, of course, it also recognises those styles and tendencies in our artistic heritage which played a progressive historical role and, although they were not themselves realistic, did not come into conllicl with realism.

p Whilst rejecting everything devoid of social or aesthetic value, Soviet art borrows on and re-fashions the heritage of the classical, realistic, romantic and even early naturalist and impressionist schools.

p Present-day bourgeois modernism also has its “ pedigree”. Its family tree bears the names of symbolism, acmeism, futurism, imagism and other schools, such as expressionism, cubism, suprematism, dadaism and surrealism. It is the offspring of all these “isms” which are openly a-social and anti-realist, and which have their roots in subjective idealism, individualism, acstheticism and formalism.

The struggle between realism and modernism frequently takes on complex forms. At one point realism incurred heavy losses, such as the case of the talented writer Leonid Andreyev who deserted the ranks of the realists for modernism. Modernism, however, turned out to be the true loser when it was deserted by all genuine, truly vital talent. The corpse of modernism still manages to capture a few living souls, but the more the revolutionary development of life and ideology progresses, the weaker becomes the hold which decadence exerts over the artist. Realism is on the offensive.

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p The interrelation of realism and modernism is a problem which has received a great deal of attention from Soviet specialists, with the result that much has been 263 written about it from all angles. The present article does not. of course, claim to deal comprehensively with this vast and complex subject. The author wishes simply to discuss a number of points connected with it.

p There was a period, a rather long one. when the Soviet approach to modernism of the first quarter of this century was. lor the most part, an erroneous one, not based on historical method and ignoring the dialectics of the struggle inside the various modernistic trends.

p It must be realised in dealing with the various modernist trends that their manifestos have always been based on much shakier social ideas than those of the realist schools. This does not mean that we are trying to make allowances for modernism, but the fact remains. It became evident when the first important modernist tendency in Russian literature, symbolism, began to decline, and was discussed by Alexander Blok, the first to make a conscious, public break with symbolism, in his article " Problems, Problems and Yet More Problems" written in 1908.

p “It was the custom (and, perhaps, still is) to link together people of very different kinds under the name of ‘decadence’ or ‘symbolism’,” wrote Blok. "Time itself has now shown sufficiently clearly that the tics of the many schools and movements which seemed to bind so firmly and strongly at night, turned out in the light of day to be nothing but thin leads capable of holding a puppy but not a grown dog.” There is a lot of truth in this figurative definition. It was the light of day, the 1905 Russian revolution, which showed how weak the links of such outstanding writers as Bryusov and Blok were with symbolism, and how strongly bound up with it were Merezhkovsky, Ilippius. Vyacheslav Ivanov and other less important bourgeois writers.

p When the problem is oversimplified and the writer firmly “registered” with this or that school and completely “dissolved” in a movement, the internal conflicts within modernism arc overlooked which resulted in the best writers breaking away from their environment (from both the broader bourgeois society and the more immediate artistic milieu).

p Blok provides an excellent example of the artist’s rejection of and break with decadence and his outgrowing of 264 symbolism. "Mystics and symbolists don’t give a damn for ’bloody problems’,” is one of Blok’s entries in bis diary for 1907. "They couldn’t care less that there are so many beggars or that the earth is round. They are sale under Hawing of their own ‘I’."’

p The poet’s revolt against the individualism of the decadents was the result of his search for links with life, his working out of a civic, position and a recognition of the power of art which has its roots in life and struggle. His diary lor 1912 contains entries full of admiration and res pect for the revolutionary art of Maxim Gorky and the first writers of the proletariat who collaborated in the Bolshevik journal Zvezda (Star). "Everything here is clear, simple and intelligible (because it is talented).... Thanks to Gorky and even to Zue:du. Here was suddenly something real after aeslhelicLsm, futurism, the apollonists and the bibliophiles.” Blok saw vital, militant realistic art as the direct antithesis of modernism. Kven earlier, in 1908, he had written to his mother: ”Due to the poison of decadence art has lost all its richness, clarity, vitality, liguraliveness, everything characteristic and typical. ...” It is evident that Blok’s rejection of symbolism was conscious and fundamental.

p Blok’s break with symbolism occurred fairly early on. but the process of disillusionment began even earlier. This was the case with many other writers at the beginning of the century, but they did not all succeed to the same extent as Blok and Bryusov in making such a clear break and joining the ranks of revolutionary writers in the Soviet period. However, a careful study of modernism shows that it is possible to discern positive as well as negative elements in it, vitality and sincerity alongside emptiness and affectation, a tragic search for truth as well as a calculated appeal to what was fashionable.

p True, living art was able to break the bounds of decadence and give birth to genuinely humane works, whilst art which was purely “aesthetic”, artificial and lacking in feeling, the product of bourgeois fashion, could not free itself of modernism.

The existence of diU’erent trends within modernism is not only explained by the fact that certain artists were on the way to rejecting and breaking away from it, but 265 that some of the early modernists still preserved links, however slight, with realism. Inspite of the fact that they had renounced realism, their work still showed certain realistic, elements which sometimes took a somewhat mystic, form. A good illustration of this is the early prose of Fyodor Sologub, a typical decadent writer. His early novels Had Dreams and The Little Demon contain elements of social criticism and realistic’ satire, which the author was later to renounce completely in his mediocre, reactionary trilogy The (treated Lei/end. Many such examples spring to mind, but the crucial point is not their quantity but the conclusion towards which they point. This conclusion is. namely, that the modernists frequently demonstrated links with realist literature which helped the best of them (for example. Bryusov with his “cull” of Pushkin and Tyutchev) to break awav from decadence and modernism.

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p An examination of the legacy of the modernist schools and trends shows us that their writers were frequently capable of overcoming decadence. The best of them took advantage of this, rejecting modernism and turning to revolutionary literature. Others remained bogged down in modernism. A third group, whilst occasionally managing to discard aesthelicism and formalism, did not succeed in ridding themselves entirely of the pernicious influence of bourgeois decadence.

p When we consider the prominent Soviet writers who began their creative activity within the ranks of decadent schools it is evident that their achievements must be seen not as resulting from this connection but in spite of it. It was not thanks to “isms” that they developed into the writers of the revolution, but rather because of their break with these “isms”. One only has to compare Bryusov with Mere/hkovsky, Blok with Zinaida Ilippius, Mayakovsky with Kruchonykh, Akhmatova with Georgy Ivanov, Sergei Gorodelsky with Georgy Adamovich. Yescnin with Kusikov or Zabololsky with Kliarms (who produced some fairly good children’s poetry but nothing of any importance for (he adult reader) to realise the truth of this statement. It 266 goes without saying that Blok and Bryusov occupy leading places in Russian literature, whereas Merezhkovsky and Ilippius “dissolved” without trace in symbolism, that Mayakovsky’s link with the futurists, whose abstruse creations now rest in peace, was brief and far from orthodox, that neither Anna Akhmatova nor Sergei Gorodetsky remained "only acmeisls”, whilst the "strict aemeisls”, Adamovich and Ivanov quickly degenerated into common imitators, that even during his flirtation with imagism Ycsenin was not a true imagist, and that Nikolai Zabololsky began to develop only after he had broken his early ties with the modernist group of “obercuty”.

p Just take Valery Bryusov’s magnificent poem “Work” written in 1917 on the eve of the October Revolution:

pWork is the one real joy I’ve met— On field and farm, and bench and tableWork till you’re bathed in scorching sweat, Work without counting gain or debt: Work hours and days while you are able!"

p The profound civic awareness of this poem by a writer who was for many years regarded simply as a decadent, was not simply a bolt from the blue. It was preceded by such poems as "The Bricklayer”, "The Dagger" and the profoundly anti-bourgeois “Contentment” which were written right at the beginning of the century. Bryusov’s path to revolution was a hard one. It lay in that constant struggle between social themes and acslhelicism which one observes in the poet’s pre-revolutionary works. It was this conflict which pointed the way to a break with modernism.

p When Mayakovsky was still a very young writer just beginning his career with the cubo-futurists, many superficial critics could not see the difference between him and Burlyuk or Kruchonykh, but it was immediately noticed by Maxim Gorky. Valery Bryusov, a most gifted poetry critic, wrote in his survey .1 Year of Hussion I’oetry (1914) thai Mayakovsky was taking his own path in literature: "It is a rather depressing job,” he wrote about collections of poetry by the futurists, "looking through dozens of books full of empty, formless poetry for the odd original line. . . . We must, however, in all fairness, repeat what we said earlier: most of the happy exceptions are to be found in 267 the poetry of Vladimir Mayakovsky. Although he has much in common with futurism in its extreme form, he also shows an original perception of reality, imagination and the ability to depict.” This was how Mayakovsky began, as a writer with original talent who was soon to take up a revolutionary position.

p In 1921 Alexander Blok wrote one of his most brilliant articles, "Without Divinity, Without Inspiration”, in which he launched a formidable attack on Gumilyov’s “Poets’ Workshop" and drew a line under the aesthetic activity of the aemeists. This dealt a severe blow to the very heart of this literary school and its formalistic principles. "Nikolai Gumilyov and certain other ‘aemeists’,” wrote Blok, "all indubitably possessing talent, are drowning themselves in a cold bog of heartless theories and various types of formalism; they lie in a deep, dreamless sleep from which it is impossible to awake them; they do not know, and do not wish to know, anything at all about life in Russia and the world in general; they ignore in their poetry (and, consequently, in themselves as well) that which is most precious—the soul." This was how Blok criticised the anti-humanist, aesthetic school of the aemeists, a school which was most typical of modernism. At the same lime he saw that Anna Akhmatova did not "fit in" this school, sensing warm, vital impulses in her poetry.

p During his period of allegiance to the imagists Sergei Yescnin honestly believed that he was one of them. lie collaborated with them in "The Stall of Pegasus" and "The Hotel for Travellers into the Beautiful”. But he gained nothing at all from this association. His "Marc Ships" is spoiled by images for their own sake and an unnecessarily complex poetic, form. Certain of his poems also suffer from the imagisls’ passion for bohemianism. Then he parted company with modernist experiments and turned to revolutionary poetry. This break with the imagisls was his salvation as a poet.

p The talented Soviet poet Nikolai Zabololsky began writing in the late twenties as a member of one of the last modernist groups, the so-called “obereuly”. But il was not with the book Posts or the poem "The Triumph of Agriculture" that he found his way to the realistic lyric. The grotesque, eccentric images of his early poetry linked 268 Zabololsky with artistic and poetic expressionism. He had a long way to go from this poetry al the end of the twenties to Ihe realism, the crystal clear poetry of thoughts, life and nature, of which he became .such a great master in later years. The only way was to sever all the ties that bound him with modernism. And this was what he did.

p Only by revolting against the “isms” and throwing oil’ their chains could these pools follow the path which was to make them great writers of works which will shine forever among the gems of Soviet literature. Blok. al though he became a romantic; poet and not a realist one, was always close to realism. Mayakovsky became (he founder of the poetry of socialist realism and it would be quile ridiculous to place him in the futurist tradition when Ihe whole spirit of his work is linked willi Ihe origin and development of revolutionary poetry.

p The question is a comparatively simple one in the case of poets wlio made a complete break with modernism, such as Blok, Mayakovsky, Yesenin and Zabololsky, but considerably more complicaled when one comes to think of those who only managed to transcend it sporadically. They have provoked a great deal of confused thinking, which sometimes takes the form of vicious, undeserved criticism or else inspires wild, ill-founded praise. When we are dealing with a writer who had a difficult life, plagued by contradictions, alternating between success and failure, we should examine his legacy wilh great care in order to separate the good from the bad, the progressive from the modernist and thai which is lasting from the merely transient.

p It is impossible, for example, to separate Rimbaud or Apollinaire from modernism, for Iheir connection with il was more than accidental. A I. Ihe same time one should not forget that the work of these great tragic poets who slruggled against decadent tendencies was not simply the product of modernism. One should sludy writers of this kind from a dialectic, Marxist poinl of view, detecting in their work signs of struggle and contradiction which were the result of the concrete historical circumstances in which Ihej’ lived.

p The same approach should be adopted in relation to Ihe work of certain important Russian modernist wrilers. II is 269 a fact thai Andrei Holy, a leading symbolist theoretician, Yelemir Khlebnikov, who was nurtured by the futurists. Osip Mandelshtam, a prominent acineist. Boris Paslernak or Marina Tsvelayeva are all modernist wrilers. Bui il is also clear thai Ihe besl of Iheir poetry resulted from their altempls to free themselves from modernism and turn to the traditions of the classics (as, for example, Bely in Asli, Pasternak in Ihe cycle Themes and Variations, and so on) and folklore (Khlebnikov). It would, of course, be absurd to claim that writers such as these were realists or antimodernisls. But il would be equally wrong to ignore that which is of value in their work.

p Andrei Bely was one of the most devoted theoreticians of symbolism, which may be seen from his books The Green Meadow, Arabesques and Symbolism. But this eminent writer who was conslanlly in search of new artistic paths (and in his pre-revolulioiiary writing more often than not found himself in a blind alley) did not entirely dissipate his talent in Ihe modernist school to which he belonged. Symbolism played the most important role in his work, but il was not the only element. lie too experienced moments of inspired writing which brought him close to the traditions of the classical writers. These were not limited only to his writing in the Soviet period when, towards the end of his life, he wrote his three volumes of memoirs which contain some excellent realistic portraits and sketches. They are also to be found in works which appeared before the revolution, such as the book of poems entitled Ash in which the poet’s indebtedness to Nckrasov is very apparent. At the same time his experiments with "musical prose" were exercising a harmful influence on many prose writers of the twenties (as was pointed out by (iorky). But nevertheless there were positive elements in some of his works (in Petersburg but not, of course, in the symphonies) echoes of which can be found, in a somewhat different form, in the works of such outstanding writers as Lyclia Seifullina. Leonid Leonov and Ysevolod Ivanov.

p Yelemir Khlebnikov’s works contain much that smacks of modernism, futurism and linguistic artifice. But Khlebnikov also made his individual contribution to revolutionary art in “Ladomir”, "Night Before the Soviets" and many 270 lyrical poems. His palh was a difficult one hindered by the Tellers of modernist Iradilions. Bui his development and conlribuliun lo Hie new arl cannot he denied. The must accurate assessment, ol Khlehnikov came from Mayakovsky, who saw him as a poets’ poet and realised that future poets would not ignore his legacy hut rather lake from it all thai was vital and reject (hat which was stillhorn and formalislic. Certain poets, unfortunately, have got carried away hy the least significant aspect of Khlebnikov’s writing, his attempts to free words from their meaning and create a "trans-sense language”. But there is no denying that his writing contains a considerable amount of pure, iiohle lyricism, striking imagery and rich language which derive from folklore, not from his experiments. In my opinion it is time for a serious study of Khlebnikov in order to separate the wheat from the chad’. Up till now he has frequently been misunderstood, and the random publication of his writings has simply served to reinforce the impression that he is nothing but an abstruse writer.

p Just as Bely and Khlebnikov have for a long time been unjustly rejected, so poels such as Mandelshlam, Paster nak and Tsvelayeva have recently become Ihe object of equally misguided praise. This is another illustration of the refusal lo apply concrete historical and critical principles when dealing wilh poels connected with modernism.

p Osip Mandelshlam was an acmeist poet for many years, and although not all the poems in his collections Stone and Tristia conform lo acmeisl requirements, he was closely bound up with the formalistic tendencies of this school. The idealistic nature of his views on art may be judged from his collected essays Poetry. But Mandelshtam also developed and broke away from Ihe acmeists, a process which was inlerrupted by the poel’s death in tragic circumstances. The slruggle between putrefying formalism and life-giving tendencies is presenl in his work loo. Here again an objective assessment of this process and a serious historical and crilical analysis is called for.

p The legacy of Boris Pasternak has not, unfortunately, been Ihe subject of crilical research to dale. However, earlier criticism of his work was on Ihe right track, 271 providing a basis for a serious evaluation. In 19,’$(> in a book entitled Skelches of Soviet I’ocls I lie critic A. Selivanovsky pul his linger on cerlain important contradictions in Pasternak’s work which are the result of his allempls to break away from modernism and his inability to renounce it once and for all. "In Pasternak’s poetry,” he writes, "we observe; two basic contradict ions which lie was constantly striving lo resolve, and this is what constitutes the mosl original, intimate side of his writing, his leitmotif. The first contradiction is Ihe conflict between the disharmony or ‘fragmentation’ of consciousness and the desire for clarity, uiiily of consciousness and inner harmony. ...” Selivanovsky correctly observes in Pasternak an "extreme pessimism" deriving from decadent, neo-Kanlian philosophy which the writer embraced early on in his life, and the urge towards "clarity and affirmation of life”. "And this contradiction,” the critic continues, "is connected with the other one, the contradiction between individualism and socialism. He wants the revolution to start ’educating him afresh’, but al the same lime equates his revolutionary feeling wilh self-sacrifice. He rushes forward to socialism only lo lind his way barred by individualism.”

p How accurate these remarks are and how far removed from more recent allempls lo define Pasternak’s talent in terms of his individualism and isolation. In all his best writing, such as "A Noble Sickness”, "Lieutenant Schmidt" and “Waves” Pasternak tried to rise above modernisl traditions. He was partially successful in this, but never quite managed lo overcome Ihese pernicious, putrefying traditions enlirely. Even during the war years afler he had completed the brilliant poem "Death of a Sapper" he did not succeed in discarding the idea lhat heroism is associated wilh self-sacrifice. There are overtones of this in the closing lines of this heroic poem:

pTo live and burn up is hal>itual, Hut life can only conquer death // you illumine and enrich it litj sacrificing your own self."

p From then onwards Pasternak’s story is a sad one. The poet gave way increasingly lo individualism and pessimism. Even then, though, when he came into contact with 272 life forces, he was still capable occasionally of rising "above himself" and writing such impressive lines as:

p t even hi/ I lie sli</ltlesl /’ruction Should i/ou I/our proper self transcend. Just he alivein thonahl and action. Alive and onli/ lo Hie end."

p However, il was an erroneous conception of life and the writer’s gloomy pessimism which were already gaining the upper hand, and not the life forces. Nevertheless il would be a grave error lo ignore the best of his writing and simply write it oil’ as the product of modernism. He should not. of course, be held up as an example to younger poets, but it would be equally mistaken to ascribe to modernism all that he achieved in the course of his struggle against decadence.

p Precisely the same attitude should be adopted towards the work of Marina Tsvelayeva. 11 is just as pointless lo flounder about in wild attempts lo find in her poetry links with the revolutionary, peasant, mournful and angry muse of Nekrasov, as il is to compare Pasternak with Lermontov, although there was a period when Pasternak tried in a limited way lo imitate Lermonlov’s lyrical style. Tsvelayeva did not even altempl to mould her style on Nekrasov. One should never lose sight of the fad that for a long time Tsvelayeva’s altitude towards the revolution was a negative one, and that her association with modernism was very close and detrimental. Likewise one should also hear in mind thai she paid heavily for her delusions and made an honest, brave attempt to break with modern ism and make a fresh slarl.

As has already been mentioned above, our poetry of the first quarter of this century has firm, solid revolutionary traditions. Il also contains phenomena which are entirely alien to our present and future. Finally it possesses phenomena arising from Hie struggle lo overcome reactionary, aesthetic, lormalislic modernism, which should not be overlooked. This is \\liv the isolated achievements of 273 Andrei Bely, Velemir Khlebnikov, Osip Mandelshlam, Boris Pasternak, Marina Tsvctaycva and other poets oi’ this kind will not be forgollen or ignored. But even Ihe besl of what they produced should not be held up as an example to our present writers, for it must always he remembered that I hey were not capable of making a full and final break with modernism.

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p The struggle between realism and modernism is one that has embraced all the arts. We were reminded of this once again at an inleresting international discussion of the novel which took place in Leningrad in 1963. Two conflicting points of view met in head-on collision, realism and modernism.

p In the opening discussions on the novel at the Symposium of the European Community of Writers we heard frequent references to two “zones” of development of the novel, two “zonal” approaches, namely, those of Western and Eastern Europe. The West, we were told by the supporters of this zonal Iheory, slood in direct opposition to Ihe spirilual world of Eastern Europe, with regard to the novel, and to the literary world of the European socialist countries. The fallaciousness of this geo-ideological theory gradually became more and more apparent. It became clear that there do not exist and cannot exist any geographical boundaries or limits to artistic ideology and creative art. Then the discussion lurried to another conflict, that between Ihe realist and the modernist novel. It became evidenl on closer scruliny that the realist novel had gained the upper hand all over Europe. Socialist realism not only reigned supreme in Soviet literature and the literature of the socialist countries, but was also brilliantly represented in West-European countries. One need only mention the names of such novelists as Louis Aragon, Andre Stil, Sean O’Casey, Jack Lindsay and James Aldridge, Hans Scherfig and Oivind Bolstad. The maslers of critical realism in the West enjoy far more widespread popularity among readers than the decadent modernist writers. Who is more popular with the average reader? Remarque, 274 Beckett, Leonhard Frank or Elisabeth Langgiisser? We could go on adding to this list writers such as Heinrich Böll, Hans Werner Kichter. Ilalldor Laxness, the Italian neo-realists and the I’"rench social novelists, all of whom are diametrically opposed to the anti novel ol’ the modernists.

p It is, thus, a clash ol’ different types of novel, not ol different “zones” that we are witnessing on the European literary scene. The realist novel, in the development ol which socialist realist novels have played a leading role, is not limited solely to the East European zone. It also enjoys success and popularity all over Ihe continent, and is represented in the literature ol’ many West-European countries. At the same time, of course, one must beware of minimising the threat which modernism constitutes to the arts, literature and the novel in particular. The two types of novel which we have been discussing are locked in deadly combat, for they represent two fundamentally dilTercnl attitudes of mind.

p There were many occasions during the Leningrad Symposium when I called to mind that brilliant book The Novel and the People written by Ralph Eox, an English Marxist who lost his life in the thirties lighting for the Republicans in the Spanish Civil War. This book was in many respects a prophetic one. Eox demonstrated how the socialist struggle and the revolution were giving now depth and breadth to the mental outlook of the novelist and enriching the epic content of the novel, lie gave a correct diagnosis of the fatal diseases of bourgeois literature and forecast the outcome. In the many years which have passed since The Novel and the People was written we have witnessed the socialist realist novel moving from one triumph to the next in the work of such writers as Mikhail Sholokhov and Leonid Leoiiov, Marie Pujmaiiova and Marie Majorova, Anna Seghers and Bodo Uliso, Emmanuil Kazakevich and Oles (ionchar, Bela Illes and Jaroslaw Iwaszkiewicz, Mikhailo Stelmakh and Chinghis Ailmatov . . . (that’s enough names—it’s impossible to give a full list anyway). We are also devoted readers of the latest works by European novelists of critical realism. In addition to those contemporary writers mentioned above, I should, of course, mention the great realist novelists of a generation 275 just gone by, such as Thomas Mann. Roger Martin du Card and Lion Feuchlwanger. In the Held of modernist literature we have: seen a further decline in the novel, the individual novelists as writers, and the form and content of the narrative. The modernist novel has taken on the form of the anti-novel. The plot has been superseded by a stream of subjective impressions; puppets and dummies have taken the place of real, live characters and style has been ousted by mannerism. Everything which went to make the novel such a great art form in the hands of the classics and of which we are so justly proud in the realistic novel —a bold outlook on life and a penetrating analysis of the laws of reality—has given way to fear of life and escape into a world of subjective, irrational ideas. The modernist novel has ceased to be an artistic whole and has become a fragmented reflection of the fragmented consciousness, the kaleidoscope of disconnected impressions. The novel has changed from a popular art form exercising a strong educative influence upon the reading public, into something totally isolated from the people as a whole and intended for a narrow circle of decadent “intellectuals”. We see realism coming into its own and modernism falling by the wayside. We see the ties between realism and the people growing stronger and wider whilst modernism eats away at its own roots.

p The questions of the dill’erent types of novels and their fate cannot be separated from the question of our attitude towards the traditions of the past, and the search for traditions. Here we find ourselves in disagreement with certain supporters of modernist views and tastes. At the Leningrad Symposium certain speakers from the West stubbornly insisted on the importance of the beneficial influence of Proust, Joyce and Kafka on succeeding generations. Some Italian, Erench and West-German writers even went so far as to assert that these writers started a new movement in ’literature. As champions of the realist novel we are bound to disagree with this. The creation of new, healthy, forward-looking literature capable of serving mankind can and must take place on the broad, solid base of great literary traditions. The legacy of the modernists is not capable of providing a launching pad for literary spaceships.

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p Far be it from us to oversimplify or degrade the works of Marcel 1’rou.sl, James Joyce or Fran/, Kafka. Lei us say straight away that they are all extremely original writers by no means similar to each other. What is more, their work contains some positive elements and, although it is fundamentally a product of modernism, docs not deserve to be dismissed out of hand. The Joyce of the Dublincrs which has many excellent realistic passages is not the Joyce of Ulysses which contains the seeds of the antinovel. The modernistic works of Proust contain many features which he inherited from critical realism. But all this is of secondary importance, since Proust’s writing is characterised not by his link with the realism of Flaubert but by his rejection of it. It is impossible to ignore the existence in Kafka’s work of social criticism, the tragic testament of the "little man" repressed by the heartless, bourgeois order. But the writer’s feeling of social helplessness and fear of life had a severely detrimental effect on his work, distorting and undermining his talent. (It should also not be forgotten that many of the works published by Max Brod after Kafka’s death were not intended by the author for publication.)

It is only fair and in the interests of a live, developing literature that the legacy of these writers should be subjected to a careful analysis in order to define the nature of the contradictions present in their work, and determine their historical position in literature. But neither the undoubted talent of these writers nor their isolated achievements can conceal the fact that their work is the product of modernism. And it is this which prevents their writing from serving as a model for the present-day, forwardlooking novel. The path leading to the present day from Tolstoi, Stendhal, Flaubert and Chekhov is shorter than the distance from Proust and Kafka, shorter not in time but in content. The modern novel is following the path of realism and draws, first and foremost, on realist traditions. It also embraces all that which is best outside realism (from the romantics, for example). At the same lime it rejects totally all that which is opposed to realism and on the side of modernism.

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p One of the most dangerous tendencies which results from an incorrect assessment of Ihe value of the modernist legacy is Ihe attempt to justify all its “isms” by viewing them as important literary break-throughs. This is done in a variety of ways. Some try to give futurism a place in modern literature by praising Mayakovsky highly, in spile of the fact, which was mentioned earlier on, that the great pool’s associalion with Ihis school was exlremely tenuous and short-lived. Others atlempl to hail surrealism and expressionism as progressive movements by acclaiming Ihe work of Ihe great poets Paul Eluard and Johannes Bechcr, whose early wriling was influenced by Ihese trends. It is, of course, well known thai Beclier broke away from expressionism after a few years and spent the rest of his life writing in the realist tradition. But the supporters of modernism are not interested in logical conclusions or historical facts.

p Its supporters advance yet another argument. “Isms”, they say, were cssenlial slages in Ihe development of great writers, a kind of launching pad from which the young experimenters rose to great heights. Bui how can anyone possibly be launched inlo realism from a decadent pad? Eluard, for example, who is often quoted in support of this poiiil of view, began experimenting as a rcalisl writer and developed towards socialist realism at the poinl when he renounced surrealism. II is not surrealism thai gave us Eluard as we know and love him. but realism which won him away gradually from surrealism.

p People who atlempl lo keep Ihe modernist flag Hying and resurrect dead “isms” frequently claim that arl musl not be “limited”, lhat one must adopt a tolerant, broadminded approach lo it. At the same time as demanding tolerance for modernjsm Ihey conlinue lo harangue realism in a most intoleranl fashion. By gelling rid of noxious modernisl Irends we are nol limiling arl but saving it from the spiritual deformation and decay with which decadence threatens all spheres of art. By getting rid of all that which has been poisoned by bourgeois society we are saving everything vital and guaranteeing thai it will prosper and llourish.

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Let it not be forgotten that realism and modernism are irreconcilable, sworn enemies.

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p The leading realist school of the twentieth century is undoubtedly that of socialist realism. Although it is still limited geographically, it plays a decisive role in the development of world literature. Socialist realism avoids all slogans and formulae. It is opposed to dogma on principle in both theory and practice. The struggle against dogma in aesthetics is, in particular, a struggle against the attempt to restrict realism and reduce it to a mere reproduction of externals.

p One of the important achievements of our aesthetic theory in this struggle is its assertion of convention. For a long time Soviet literature and criticism suffered from the contrast which was drawn between realism and convention. The attempt to remove convention (an organic property of art) from the framework of realism has never stopped and has produced some wonderful literary fruits. They illustrated clearly that convention is one of the basic components of art, and that only one form of convention, formalism, is opposed to true art.

p Realism in art has always been rich in form, genre and style. Bertolt Brecht has given some excellent analyses of the richness and variety of realism, and his comments sounded particularly apt and convincing during the period when art was being released from dogmatic restrictions. In spite of all their variety writers of the realist school always remain firm adherents to the most basic, fundamental principle, characteristic of realist art. They always have been and always will be social writers.

p There are no spheres of social life into which Soviet literature has not delved. Our art has memorably reflected the most characteristic features of life, remaining eternally indebted to it.

p There are no nooks or crannies in everyday life into which the realist writer cannot penetrate. Life interpreted not as a naturalistic reproduction, but as concrete social reality, the daily manifestation of social existence . . . 279 psychology . . . nature . . . the mysteries of the universe . . . the subconscious. All this lies open to the artist of socialist realism, which is amply demonstrated by the achievements of Soviet literature.

p New phenomena in the field of realism are not “ inventions” or caprice, but valid, new artistic solutions, which the writer arrives at through his vital links with life and a profound study of human existence. The writer’s social aclivily and philosophical background play an extremely important role in this process.

p The best products of Soviet literature were those which consciously broke new ground. This is clearly illustrated in Dmitry Furmanov’s diaries, Subjective Notes and articles by Alexander Fadeyev and Alexei Tolstoi’s discussions of the so-called "inner gesture”. Mayakovsky’s aesthetic views expressed in his essay entitled How Is Poetry Written? are a brilliant illustration of the writer consciously subjecting his artistic quest to the social task and the newideas born in the struggle for progress. Nikolai Aseyev, who produced some excellent criticism of Mayakovsky, wrote a wonderfully subtle and profound analysis of the poet’s process of writing the poem "About That" from the point of view of his originality. In one of his poems Aseyev stales with penetrating accuracy that Mayakovsky tackled so-called formal problems only after solving the main social and moral problems:

pThey say that your stanza’s a staircase
And analyse separate parts,
But foract all about its essence

Makiiif/ happier human hearts."

p Aseyev’s own theoretical works on poetry are also steeped in this consciousness of the secondary nature of formal problems and their subjection to social solutions and a study of life with all its demands. We find the same approach in Alexander Tvardovsky’s commentary to "Vasily Tyorkin" (and in Marshak’s articles on Tvardovsky’s poetry) and in Mikhail Isakovsky’s book on poetry.

p Each new discovery in realist art is dictated by life, as one might put it. Socialist realism is not a literary school in the narrow sense of a “magic” circle of standardised 280 prescriptions. If one can speak of schools within socialist realism it is only in the broadest sense of a stylistic tendency. Socialist realist writers remain extremely close to the traditions of old critical realism, whose great exponents, however different they may have been, were all united by a strong social and moral sense. This is what Gorky wrote about in his article entitled "The Destruction of the Individual": "The old writers had breadth of vision, a balanced attitude towards life and an acute awareness of life itself: they \vere interested in the world as a whole.”

p Just as realist art is as varied as the life which gives birth to it, life which is infused with the fervour of transforming the world, so modernist art can rightly be called monotonous. We are not speaking here of uniformity or a levelling of modernist artists. It is impossible not to recognise their individual nature. But modernist art by its very nature does not allow the artist to develop freely and impedes him from realising his creative potential.

p Modernist art also possesses its own form of "reflecting life" but this reflection is distorted by bourgeois society. Any artist who becomes reconciled to bourgeois society and takes on the role of its servant or advocate is doomed. This is what Gorky had to say about such artists before the revolution: "Either he stands openly on the side of the ruling classes or takes up a position between these classes and the people and fulfils the role of ’reconciling the social contradictions’.” He observed that the modernist artist becomes an individualist as a result of definite social laws, and that this individualist position leads him to subjective artistic solutions and arbitrariness in art.

p The subjectivism of the modernist artist is very closely connected with the answer to the philosophical question which Lenin defined as the "really important epistemological question”, namely, is the source of our knowledge of causal connections "objective natural law or properties of our mind, its innate faculty of apprehending certain a priori truths, and so forth?”  [280•1  Needless to say, subjectivisLs have always answered this question by denying the 281 existence of objective laws of nature and society, seeing man as the creator of these laws.

p Criticising the idealist Karl Pearson in .Materialism and Kmpirio-criticism Lenin defended those poets whom Pearson accused of having mistakenly regarded nature as man’s master. These poets, whom Pearson branded along with the materialists, were, of course, the realists and progressive romantics. Lenin noted yet another feature typical of the subjectivist way of thinking, namely, that the subjectivists (the philosophers of whom Lenin was writing and the poets and artists who supported these philosophers) concern themselves not with reality itself, but with their perception and impressions, which for them constitute a reality existing outside us. Thus the subjectivists, in their philosophy and their art, see the world generally as a "collection of impressions" and not as objective reality.

p This rift between talent and concrete reality alone is sufficient to deprive the work of art of much of its richness. Added to this the subjectivist approach often makes works tendentious in the most pejorative sense of the word. The artist’s impressions of reality turn out to be dressed-up, preconceived, arbitrary ideas. In this connection Gorky wrote that the modernist "is boring because he is always tendentious" when he serves the ruling classes in the bourgeois world, and that when he tries to take up a position between these classes and the people he is "compelled to take refuge from reality in fantasy and Utopian ideals which are entirely void of all social or educational significance"

p The literary career of Leonid Andreyev is an excellent illustration of the truth of Gorky’s words. Andreyev began writing as a democrat and critical realist and it was during this early period that he produced his best works which have survived up to the present day. Then he tried to take up a position between the ruling classes and the people, and his writing took flight into the, realms of fantasy and subjective imagination, in which he sought to render his impressions of reality by means of abstract, speculative notions. Towards the end of his life he broke away entirely from his former social convictions becoming a spokesman for the bourgeois reaction and thus ruining his talent which 282 became an instrument for the tendentious bourgeois press.

p The lack of variety in modernist art is due to its schematic nature. This is amply demonstrated by the socalled "romaii nouvcau” in France, which is characterised by schematic constructions taking the place of true knowledge of life and the broad powerful generalisations which we normally associate with the novel.

p All abstractionism, by its very nature, is based on schemes. We delect in it distorted “carcasses”’ of impressions totally subjectivist and arbitrary, instead of the living substance of reality. In contrast to realism, modernism is generally associated with various types of formal schools and minor schools with a strict set of prescribed artistic canons. One only has to take a look at the manifestoes and declarations of the modernist groups and groupings which were so abundant in the literature of the time of the revolution to see what an impeding effect they exercised on the development of the writers who adhered to them. Even really talented writers, such as Yesenin or Khlebnikov, were held back by their association with modernist schools. As has already been mentioned Khlebnikov fell under the influence of the futurists in their attempt to create a trans-sense language, whereas Yesenin suffered from the imagisls’ theory of the trans-sense image.

Realism as an art form has generally shunned and continues to shun all glossy declarations and manifestoes. Its exponents turn rather to the important task of analysing their own principles and the achievements of their colleagues. At the same time their work is extremely rich and varied. Not so with the modernists. They continue to proclaim their various declarations and manifestoes, doing their utmost to persuade people of the originality of their artistic quest. In actual fact, in spite of all these pretensions, their work is entirely standard in conception and execution. And this artistic uniformity is incapable of being concealed by the various formal devices to which they have recourse in a vain attempt to give their work vitality and originality.

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p The most cherished traditions of socialist realism are those of critical realism (and the inspired social criticism of progressive romanticism).

p The term ”critical realism" is a relative one, and its limitations are immediately apparent. Nevertheless, no other modern definition exists for literature which attacks the rapacious capitalist world from the position of progressive bourgeois democracy. It is understood that this definition is relative and that it is used to denote an extremclv wide range of phenomena with differing social roots and artistic principles. But, nevertheless, the term is a meaningful one since it pinpoints a most important factor uniting various writers who are struggling against the world of evil and violence, namely, the predominantly critical nature of their art. And it is for this reason that the term came to be accepted, after it had first been coined by dor ky, as one denoting an important social phenomena, namely, criticism as a weapon of the social struggle.

p Critical realism, which produced its greatest works in the nineteenth and at the beginning of the twentieth centuries, still exists in our day in a number of countries where the people are struggling against the capitalist yoke or against vestiges of a feudal order. It grows up and develops in countries where the people have already begun the process of throwing off colonial slavery (such as many countries in Asia, Africa and Latin America). Its historical role remains a progressive one in these given social conditions. Thus, if one takes a broad, historical view of critical realism, it becomes apparent that in capitalist countries it acts as the ally and helper of a higher form of realism, socialist realism.

p Bearing in mind all the divergences between critical realism and socialist realism, one must not see them as diametrically opposed methods, since they are linked by ideological and artistic blood ties. A great deal unites the work of these two types of realist writers in present-day conditions: democratic principles, humanitarian outlook (in one case based on general democratic, tendencies and in the other on consistent socialist democracy), and hatred of exploitation, violence and war. Moreover there is no 284 dividing line between critical realist writers and socialist realist writers. Some of the I’ormer come very close in their work to socialist realism, whilst others have come to adopt its ideological and artistic; lends as their own.

p When Gorky was defining Hie difference between critical and socialist realism, he approached the question dialectic-ally. He maintained that socialist realist art first and fore most affirmed the experience of the new society. At the same time he was perfectly aware that the experience of the new society came to life through struggle and that this struggle would be fruitless and meaningless if it were not accompanied by criticism of the past and the remaining vestiges of the old order.

p This particular aspect of Gorky’s definition deserves special emphasis in view of the fact that it is not fully understood by certain foreign critics, who maintain that Gorky excluded criticism from socialist realism and thereby transformed it into an apologetic, vindicatory exercise.

p Such an interpretation is far from the truth. Gorky bequeathed us an entirely different concept of socialist realism, according to which criticism is not eliminated at all, but serves to affirm the new order. This is quite logical. In the capitalist world criticism has the aim of undermining and destroying society, whereas in socialist society it works for the good of that society by struggling with vestiges of the past. Thus, socialist realism inherits the critical art of the past, but the criticism itself takes on an entirely different function.

p We are familiar with many Western critical realist writers who have remained true to its ideological and artistic tenets. Nevertheless, their path has been considerably enriched by contact with the socialist struggle. In an address at the Second Bitterfeld Conference (April 1964), Walter Ulbricht made the point that the Thomas Mann of the early period, when he wrote Buddcnbrooks was very different from the Thomas Mann who welcomed the foundation of the German Democratic Republic, just as the Heinrich Mann of the Professor Unrat period was worlds apart ideologically from the author of anti-fascist manifestoes of the united front. Our literary research has not yet made a serious study of the influence of socialist ideology 285 on a number of important writers (for example, such a major writer as Lion Feuclilwanger who made a profound study of Lenin’s essays, or Upton Sinclair whom Lenin called a "socialist of feeling”).

p A study of the process of transition in a number of writers from critical realism to socialist realism, .showing the various ways in which these writers went over to Hie highest form of modern realism, is of the utmost importance. It is by no means a purely academic exercise, since it is also of definite cultural and political significance.

p Modernist art, the art of bourgeois decadence, is unacceptable to the supporters of socialist realism. It is also unacceptable to the supporters of critical realism. This is how the literary critic, Herbert Kubly, describes today’s American modernist prose in the Saturday Review: "The generation of the Fifties and Sixties escaped... to the more ephemeral shores of their own subconsciousness, into the hallucinatory worlds of marijuana, and the mushroom, of heroin and lysergic acid, into the Reichian world of sex and deviation, into the mystical exercises of Oriental sects.. .. Their anti-novels speak to and for disassociated young, a generation grown up without faith and without values.”

p Herbert Kubly is an open supporter of critical realism, fie states: "Great novels ... are built upon a hero, an individual with whom the reader can identify, a man or woman presented in conflict with or against a background of his social group. They were read because people believed in the existence of good as opposed to evil.”  [285•1  Such an attitude makes it impossible for Kubly to accept the modernist anti-novel, at the centre of which the reader finds "anti-heroes who hale, curse and destroy”.

p The same fundamental spiritual barrier which separates modernism from socialist realism also divides it off from critical realism. The anti-novel and anti-drama, de- dramatisation and de-heroisation, subjectivism and irrationalism, the theatre of the absurd and the cinema of the "stream of life" and "stream of consciousness”, all the formalist and abstractionist schools are not only alien, but also 286 definitely harmful to realist art. Here ihere can be no talk of compromise or synthesis of any kind.

p At the same time the bourgeois world does all it can to foist on us the idea of the “synthesis” of realism and modernism, a “synthesis”’ in which realism is clearly swallowed, “gobbled” up without trace. A good illustration of this is to be found in a book by Ileinrich Liilzeler entitled Abstract Art (Meaning and Limits) published recently in (iutersloh, West Germany.

p The author of this book is an advocate of abstract art. He describes the aim of his review as follows: "to define the limits of abstract art and in so doing cultivate in the reader the ability lo appreciate non-representational paintings with his own eyes completely independently.”  [286•1 

p In spite of his fervent support of abstract art Liitzeler is forced to admit a "certain one-sidedness" in it, as he puts it. In Liitzeler’s very words, this is explained by the fact that the art of the abstractionists "is not capable of presenting society with a portrait of itself.”  [286•2  Whilst enthusing over the works of abstract art, their champion cannot help confessing lo the fact that it is essentially a-social and void of all social “usefulness”. "One cannot deny that abstract art finds its main themes outside society. These themes may be of interest to society and may fascinate it; but they do not explain it, nor do they make any contribution lo our analysis of and attempts lo improve society.”

p Then Liilzeler produces his theory of compromise. He advances the theory of three types of art and recommends that they be synthcsised. What are these three types of arl and how do they differ from one another? The difference, it transpires, lies in the role played by form.

p There is one type of art in which the arlist sacrifices form, namely, representational art (i.e., realism). There is another type of art in which form is of prime importance. Then "real phenomena frequently become raw material for the imagination and the spirit ... in their striving lo transcend limits and time”. It is not difficult to proceed from 287 this form (modernism) lo the third—abstractionism, where subjectivism reigns supreme. Liil/eler formulates this with the utmost clarity: "Form as an abstraction is totally independent; it is basically alien to all that is representational. It creates its own bonds from shape and colour.”  [287•1 

p Liitzeler sees abstract arl as the highest form of artistic activity. Bui al the same lime he is prepared lo acknowledge its shortcomings. Hence the proposed synthesis: ”Only through the interaction of all these (three types of artistic activity—Aulhvr.) can true arl be produced.”  [287•2  It is, however, impossible to ignore the dividing line between all the forms of bourgeois aesthetic decadence and realist art.

p A great deal is being written and said at the present lime aboul the limits of realism. The famous French philosopher and writer Roger Garaudy published a book with the title D’un realismc sans rivages (Realism Without Bounds). One cannot but agree with some aspects of this book, for example, certain penetrating observations about Picasso, and the trenchant criticism of naturalistic copyism. But the work also contains propositions which one feels bound to object to.

p There are not and cannot be any limiting factors in the relationship between realism and reality. Here realism is as unrestricted and omnipotent as human knowledge itself. But realism is, and always will be anti-modernist. It will never sel foot across the divide thai separales il from modernism.

p Realisl art is always humane. It is infused with a deep love for mankind, with the desire lo help society and promote progress. Formalism and abstractionism, on the other hand, are anti-humane. They despise the deep analysis of character, and turn Iheir attention instead to distorling man’s image. Naturalism is also anti-humane in that il porIrays masks instead of individuals and produces a superficial photograph without penetrating into the depths of human nature. Both formalism and naturalism are void of of all deep perception. Their perception is either 288 ”made strange" or blunled. and invariably cold and unemotional.

p Victor Shklovsky gives a very apt and original definition of the fundamental difference between naturalism (”bad literature”) and realism in his short essay entitled "The Sun Never Sets on the Great": "In bad literature we sim ply describe the person standing before us. We limit ourselves to what Hegel referred to in philosophy as ’ appearance’. In life we would probably see Akaky Akakievich Bashmachkin as a weak little man. But in great literature he arouses our compassion and we share in his tragedy, although this tragedy is nothing more than the loss of a coat. And then we see him revolt against his position, against humiliation and repression. He gains stature in our eyes and becomes himself.”

p This is the crux of the matter: man and our understand ing and portrayal of him. It is from this point, the attitude towards man and the understanding of the world as the world of social, human activity that Roger Garaudy launches his attack on naturalism in the book Realism Without Bounds. "Artistic activity,” he writes in his essay on Picasso, "is not something from which man is excluded as the naturalists believe.” "Being a realist,” he observes in the section entitled "Instead of an Afterword”, "does not mean copying reality just as it is: it means copying the activity which is inherent in this reality. Realism does not mean that you have to give a plaster cast or an exact copy of things, events or people; it means taking part in the act of creating the world which is in constant process of formation, and putting one’s finger on the pulse of its inner rhythm.”  [288•1 

p Thus the dividing line between realism and naturalism is drawn accurately and firmly. But, unfortunately, it immediately begins to get blurred. Those who advocate the idea of "realism without bounds" proceed from the perfectly correct assumption that all true works of art express the form of man’s presence in the world.

p However, they then go on to include anti-realist phenomena in the sphere of realism, on the basis that these too constitute part of reality! It could, of course, be held 289 that all sorts of subjectivist philosophical theories (even solipsism itself) are part of reality, mutilated reflections of it. But no one would seriously consider including such idealistic theories in a materialist world outlook.

Modern Marxist aesthetics uses the theory of reflection to establish the precise divergences between realism and the various modernist trends. Consistent application of this theory to the products of modern art is a safeguard against the indiscriminate inclusion in realism of anything that may for this or that reason seem worthy of the critic’s attention. The crucial difference between modernism and realism is the clearly expressed desire of the modernists to take flight from reality and the reproduc’tion of its true laws and complex contradictions. The modernist does not reflect or open up the world. He closes it up, subordinating reality to his own, generally anarchistic and limited point of view, whether it is some Freudian complex, the idea of the “irrationality” of life, the all-devouring "stream of consciousness" or the hopelessly pessimistic, final sen lence to man in all these countless “trials” which modernist literature of the twentieth century has held and is still holding with man in the dock.

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p In recent years certain theoreticians have consistently tried to persuade artists to “enrich” and “broaden” realism by borrowing from modernist art. They cite, in this respect, the literary heritage of Proust, Joyce (who was first held up as an example to Soviet prose writers, to no effect whatsoever, at the beginning of the thirties) and Kafka.

p Here one is bound to agree with the views expressed by the well-known Polish critic, Stefan Zolkiewski, in the article which he wrote criticising Roger Garaudy’s book, published in the weekly magazine Politika in 1963 (Nos. 45, 46). Proceeding from the assumption that "literature must seek new forms of expression for new problems and new times" the critic objects to people who would have artists follow in the steps of those who are nothing but “branches” which have fallen off the free of realism and 290 turned oil down the path of modernism. Talking about Polish writers he says: "We were laced with this problem long before Garaudy. And found a diiTorent solution to it. Not by glorifying Kafka and crowning him king of the basic tendency in literature, but by recognising that the genuine, basic tendency in literature (the mainstream of realism which is constantly developing and taking on new forms, as Zolkiewski writes—Author.) is capable of developing and also of absorbing and transforming artistic discoveries made outside it.”

p Much of what Stefan Zolkiewski has to say is debatable, but one is bound to approve of the spirit which underlies his remarks. The Polish critic’s article gives a clear piclure of the socialist realist artist as one engaged in a conscious, single-minded quest, and outlines the future development of socialist realism. "We are bringing about a cul tural revolution,” Zolkiewski declares, "and creating a special type of culture. We are creating it for an ideologically defined recipient. We are creating a culture rich in content, which meets the requirements of the type of person for whom it is intended. That person is the dedicated builder of socialism. Therefore the task, which we are solving each day, is that of selecting a certain content and certain values. One important condition of this selection is the choice of traditions. In Poland this means the cultural traditions of the revolutionary workers’ movement—both international and Polish—traditions connected with the national liberation movement, and the anti-religious, free dom-loving, humanitarian arid rationalist traditions of man kind. The cultural traditions of the proletariat are of special value.. .. The culture which we are creating is the culture of the masses.. . .”

I have quoted at such length because this passage seems to me to be highly relevant. The attempt to select traditions in the interests of the main line of literary development which is closely linked with the political problems being solved by the people, is undoubtedly a correct approach.

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p One of the most characteristic features of the literature of socialist realism is its striving towards the future.

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p The older form of realism, critical realism, also produced works in which I he central figure was a lighter and reform or, an advocate of new, .social ideals, concerned about the present and the future.

p The art of the socialist struggle has made communist man the bearer of the trails of the bright future. It is not without good cause that socialist literature is held to start with Gorky’s novel Mother, although this work was actually written some time before Soviet power was established. The character of Pavel Vlasov is historically three dimensional, in that he rejects the past conquering its vcsliges in himself, struggles in the present and blazes a new trail into the future affirming ils ideals.

p At the Lime when the book was written even such a sensitive crilic as V. V. Vorovsky, who also played an active part in the revolutionary struggle, took the view that Gorky’s revolutionary characters were not so much real people as heightened mythical figures. Vorovsky was wrong when lie wrote about Gorky’s character Pelageya Nilovna that "the figure of Nilovna was out of the ordinary, idealised and closer to that which could be rather than that which actually is in everyday life”. As it happened, everyday life showed that Pavel, Nilovna and the other characters in the novel were true to life, not idealised. It was this that gave; them their special value, even in comparison with the poetic, allegorical characters of Gorky’s early writing, such as Daiiko, for example, that legendary, almost mylhologised figure, somewhat similar to the myth of Prometheus. The legendary hero had an important role to play at the dawning of the new stage in the revolutionary movement, just as the beginning of the actual revolutionary struggle of the working class gave rise to characters in literature which were true to life.

p The concern of Soviet writers for the future and their portrayal of characters constantly striving ahead have always been an important feature of Soviet literature right from its early days. This was true of our literature even at the lime when the people had just begun the great task of building communism. Jusf as Gorky’s Pavel Vlasov was three-dimensional, as I put it figuratively, the same is true of (ialina Nikolayeva’s Bakhirev, Vadim Ko/hevnikov’s Baluyev, Chinghis Aitmatov’s "first teacher" and Mikhailo 292 Slclmakh’s Marko Bessmerlny. And can it not also he said that Davydov, one of the greatest creations of Soviet literature, exists in three types ol reality. And do we not i’ecl the breath ol I he future in works, which are smaller in size but of great philosophical profundity, such as the short stories ”The Fate of a Man" by Mikhail Sholokhov or ’“Sunflowers” by Vitaly Zakrutkin?

p Certain foreign theoreticians are today challenging Gorky’s idea that art should concern itself with the third reality, on the grounds that looking into the future is both alien to and dangerous for literature. Gorky’s views about the reality of the future and attempts to foresee it are criticised by them as being "highly dubious" and they do not consider it possible to give "artistic form to the results of this dubious fortune-telling”. In so doing they drastically oversimplify Gorky’s ideas which by no means entailed a detailed knowledge and description of the events of the future. What is more, in staunchly recommending realist writers to desist from looking into the future they arc going against the very essence of realism, threatening to turn it into naturalistic copying of reality.

p Roger Garaudy approaches this subject somewhat differently without attacking Gorky. lie writes: "To demand in the name of realism that a work of art should reflect present-day reality in all its entirety, and sketch an historical trajectory of the age and people, that it should express the main currents of that age and its future development, is a philosophical not an aesthetic requirement.” There is a great deal in this statement. Who wants a large encyclopaedia instead of a work of art? And who is suggesting that we should have textbooks on history, economics or philosophy in place of art? It is difficult to see to whom Garaudy’s remarks are addressed. At the same time it would, of course, be wrong to suggest that socialist realism should not concern itself with expressing man’s striving for the future.

p It would appear that this confused understanding of the relation of socialist art to the future arises through an insufficient appreciation of the strength and-scope of the growing connection between this art and scientific thought and achievements. It is sometimes said that the only demand that one should make of an artist is that he should be an 293 artist, that is. a person who is capable of expressing him self in artistic form and giving an accurate picture of our age. This is an unjustifiable limitation of the problem. The problem of "how to write" (we are, of course, taking it for granted that the person in question is a writer and not a mere dilettante) is not merely a question of talent but of his level of ideological development, degree of social commitment and understanding of that which best serves the present and future in art.

There are many excellent articles, books and letters by socialist realist writers on the subject of writing and literary talent. Mayakovsky, Becher. Gorky, Martin Andersen Nexo, Brecht. Afinogenov. Alexei Tolstoi and Marshak have all turned Iheir pen to it. Works of this kind, profound studies of the criteria and principles of new writing, exist in abundance. They offer a wide range of concrete suggestions, advice and exhortations. But underlying them all is the urge "to measure the quality of poetry by the commune" as Mayakovsky put it. This urge cannot allow writers to remain indifferent to ques’.ions concerning the future and to regard such questions as being “unartistic”. Nor can it permit the view that the main line of approach for the modern writer to the society of the future is in the creation of myths.

10

p A great deal has been written by foreign critics in recent limes about the creation of myths. This question is frequently treated as being separate from that of how to approach the myths of the past.

p The view is advanced that works of art in all ages are a function of labour and myth. By labour is meant actual strength, techniques, knowledge, discipline, social structure, in other words everything that has been or is being done. Myth, on the other hand, is used to represent a concrete expression of the knowledge of that which is lacking, that which still remains to be done in spheres of nature and society not yet mastered by man. The realism of our times is the creator of myths, an epic, Promethean realism.

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p It must be said straight away that only dogmatists (such as our revered educationalists ol’ earlier days with their gloomy struggle against the anthropomorphism of fairytales, legends and myths) would want to deny the artist the possibility of using and re-fashioning myths within socialist realism. But it must also be made equally clear that the creation of myths is not. and never will lie. the main path of socialist art.

p One should bear in mind the well known words of Marx in his Introduction to "Principles of the Criticism of Political Economy" which give an excellent forecast of the role which the creation of myths is destined to play in the age of scientific progress. "All mythology masters, subdues and fashions the forces of nature in the imagination and with the assistance of imagination. Consequently it disappears when these forces of natvire are mastered.”

p Popular myths were always the product of realistic thinking and cognition. They frequently embraced and reflected real phenomena, and in ancient times they were accepted not as invention, but as history delermining the social and aesthetic norms of the future. It is perfectly feasible that modern writers should have recourse to myths (we come across them, for example, in the tales and plays of Marshak). But the use of myths in modern writing takes the form of refashioning them. There are no grounds what soever for nourishing modern realist writing on the creation of myths (or for reducing it to the creation of myths alone).

p Realist writing has many examples of the “re-thinking” of myths. Russian revolutionary writing showed that new. revolutionary works could be written modelled on myth and legend, as may be seen from Gorky’s early poetry and poetic prose. But at that time the creation of myths was a matter of direct social expediency and, incidentally, also showed a critical attitude in relation to the myths of the past. Great modern writing is inspired by a vision of the new world and the future development of mankind. It gives expression to this not by creating myths, but by analysing and crystallising present-day reality in the process of its constant development, by the analysis and crystallisation of real, contemporary characters. Only writing which is based on advanced scientific thinking (including scientific 295 prediction) is capable of helping mankind to solve the great historical tasks before it. assisting in the building of a just society, and. most important of all. teaching man to be human.

“Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be,” says Shakespeare in Hamlet. Socialist realism is called upon to help people become nobler, purer and better than they are today. In our country it has already begun the task of educating people for the communist society of tomorrow.

11

p Let us now return once more to the question of the relation between realism and modernism in art today. Let us dwell for a moment on the comparative standing of these two types of art in the modern world. Let us ask ourselves which of the two represents the mainstream in human cultural development.

p Modernism arose quite naturally in the process of the disintegration of bourgeois art. It is a natural consequence of the age of imperialism. At the same time it has not be come the leading tendency in modern artistic development, for even during the age of imperialism and the proletarian revolutions democratic, socialist art gained sufficient strength to offer active resistance to decadence in art. With the entry of mankind into the age of transition from capitalism to socialism, illusions about the hegemony of modernist art are increasingly disappearing.

p Many bourgeois art theoreticians, historians and critics are doing everything in their power to spread the idea of a “flourishing” modernism. Suffice it to quote one fairly typical example of their argument.

p I have before me a series of weighty tomes entitled A History of Russian Literature by the Danish specialist Adolf Stender-Petersen. published in the German Federal Republic. In the second volume of this work (Munich, 1957) Russian prc-revolutionary modernism is presented to the reader as flourishing art full of spiritual strength, brutally stamped out by the revolution. "The proclamation of the dictatorship of the proletariat by the revolution meant the 296 end of a whole literary period,” writes Stender-Petersen. "But the literature which met with this tragic fate during and after the October Revolution was not decadent or weak, deserving nothing better. It would be unfair and historically incorrect to assert so. This was not literature which had exhausted its means and potential, and was thereby condemned to perish. Our examination of the history of its gradual development and rich flowering should show that we are dealing here with poetry which gave re markable evidence of its artistic wealth, literary imagination, depth and variety.”  [296•1 

p Thus the whole period of pre-revolutionary literature in Russia is called the age of modernism, in spite of the fact that it included Gorky and the Znaniije group, Maya kovsky and the Pravda group, Blok, Bryusov and other writers who had broken or were in the process of break ing away from modernism. Thus, we are asked to believe, Russian modernism was artificially cut ofl" in its prime at the time of "the spontaneous uprising against the power of the tsar" and the confirmation of “Sovielism”. (It is only fair to add that Stender-Petersen mentions en passant that Russian modernism did not manage to win tinsupport of the people who, in half-feudal, half-capitalist Russia, had not benefited from those "social corrcc tives" enjoyed by the nations of the West, which, it would appear according to Slender Pclerscn, gave them the " spiritual maturity" necessary for appreciating modernist art.)

p Is it really necessary to point out the extent lo which history itself gives the lie to this biased interpretation? The October Revolution did, indeed, deal a crushing blow to the conditions which had given birth to decadent art in Russia, but it was some time before this art itself disap peared entirely from the scene. What is more, the suggestion that modernism was “flourishing” is nothing but pure invention. One only has to read Blok’s article "Without Divinity, Without Inspiration" referred to above, to see what a state of inner crisis and spiritual emptiness pre revolutionary modernist poetry was in.

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p The statement that modernism is the leading tendency in present-day art is accompanied in the bourgeois press by the idea of the spiritual “parity” of realism and modernism. It is argued that once art of a modernist kind appears in bourgeois, imperialist conditions, it has the same right as realism to claim to be modern art: they are "two ambassadors of the great powers”, as it were. This is a profoundly mistaken argument.

p Some even see modernism as a sort of "third realism" (alongside with critical and socialist realism), a kind of third power of realism. Thus a certain Western specialist writes: "If I ... define tachisme as ’irrational anarchism’ or ’individual nihilism’ is it not also realism, as the direct expression of the contemporary bourgeois situation?" And further: "This realism ... is realism vegetating in static non existence, in the inability to connect the historical present with the historical future; it is not even capable of sensing the future, quite apart from seeing it or grasping it. It is the realism of passivity, of ’waiting for Godot’: absolute doubt and an eternal lack of purpose. In contrast to ’ critical realism’ and ’socialist realism’ this is the realism of the irrational, the realism of confusion, the realism of solipsism which sees the content of one’s own subjective consciousness as the only thing really existent.” It requires no great perspicacity lo see that this "third realism" is nothing but modernism, pure and simple. But it is typical of such discussions that modernism in "dressed up form" is put on the same level as Irue realism and regarded as an equally valid form of modern art.

p It would be wrong to expect modernist art to join with realism in its struggle against the bourgeois world for a world of freedom, democracy, toil, peace, equality, justice and happiness. The role of modernism is to rise in defence of the already doomed world of imperialism, militarism, exploitation and chauvinism. But there can be no doubt that individual modernist artists who leave the ranks of decadence and break the bounds of modernist art, will turn to the progressive world and swell its numbers as champions of realism. And we must do everything in our power to encourage this process. One must, however, exclude totally any possibility of peaceful coexistence between realism and modernism.

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p To recapitulate, the leading tendency in modern art is realism, or more precisely, socialist realism. Even in those countries where it has not yet become the predominant artistic method, it has won the hearts of the reading public, conquering their minds with its spiritual strength. Let us take even a small country with a great literature—- Denmark. Who are the big names in twentieth century Danish literature? The answer is. of course, Nexo, Kirk. Scherfig. Wulff and those other realist writers who have told the truth about their times and pointed to the people the path of historical progress, and not the countless followers of the modernist schools and trends floundering in the debris of their subjectivist self-expression, who have nothing to show us but their dead souls.

p The boundaries between realism and modernism are not like ordinary boundaries. They cannot be closed. They are spiritual boundaries which cannot exclude the possibility of a modernist invasion of socialist territory, and cannot prevent (in spite of the many attempts to do so) the development of realism and socialist realism on capitalist territory.

p The task of guarding the frontiers of realist art is just as vital as that of launching an attack from these frontiers on decadence. Socialist realist aesthetics instils its artists with a militant attitude towards two important positions: the initial position which is linked with the problem of selecting literary traditions, the problem of ideological, artistic “armament”, and the advanced position, that which is at the same time a “detachment” directed against bourgeois ideology and an "advanced post" for our spiritual influence on all those whom the logic of the events taking place in the world of today is turning from modernism to realism, from putrefying callousness to a deep love for man and mankind in general.

Thus and only thus do we conceive of the problem of realist art, the possibilities of which are boundless, but which in the present struggle of worlds and cultures is compelled to take the necessary measures to safeguard and fortify its spiritual boundaries.

* * *
 

Notes

 [280•1]   V. I. Lenin, Collected Works, Vol. 14, p. 159.

 [285•1]   Saturday Review, May 2, 1964, Vol. 47, No. 18, pp. 15, 26.

 [286•1]   II. Liilzeler, Abslraktc Malrrei, Bedetiliniy und Grcnze, Giitersloli, 19G:S, S. 114.

 [286•2]   Ibid., S. 182-83.

 [287•1]   Ibid.

[287•2]   Ibid., S. 183.

 [288•1]   Roger Gnnuuly, D’un rcnlisme sans riixiges, Paris, 1963, p. 244.

 [296•1]   A. Stender-Petersen, Geschichte der russischen Literatur Munchen, 1957, Band 2, S. 540.