Rozanof’s book on the war, “The War and the Popular Awakening,” has been out of print for some time, and presumably his publisher has no paper. Novikof’s popular novel on the present point of view with regard to the Revolution is also unobtainable. Many good books of previous years have not been reprinted through the dearness or scarcity of paper. On the other hand, certain more obscure publishers who have managed to hoard up paper can carry on their business in full swing. The chief commercial event of the year in the literary world has been the purchase by Seetin of the Niva, the extremely popular weekly. As Seetin already owns the Russkoe Slovo and several other papers and literary enterprises, he is becoming somewhat of a literary king, an interesting figure in modern Russia, for he started life as a peasant, became an itinerant hawker of penny books for the people, and is now a man of great power in Russia.
M. Protopopof, now Minister of the Interior, a man of large commercial interests, is now, backed by certain banks (previously of a strong German complexion but now said to be decently metamorphosed), starting a large new Petrograd newspaper (name not yet decided). There were many blunders in the advertisement of this newspaper enterprise. It was stated that Korolinko would be editor and that Léonid Andreef and many other popular writers would contribute. But Korolinko fought shy of it and the other writers one by one disclaimed interest in the publication. Maxim Gorky was asked to edit it but found out apparently that it was not revolutionary in tendency, was capitalist rather than labour, and that the object was international trade prosperity, and he withdrew entirely. Now A. V. Amphiteatrof, the Italian correspondent of the Russkoe Slovo and author of a great number of curiously interesting historical studies, is to be the editor. He is an Italophile and favours much more friendly relationship between Italy and Russia; in politics he may be said to be Radical and has got into trouble with the Government upon occasion. It will be interesting to see whether the enormous capital behind this paper will give it the chance of success that the same amount of capital behind a new paper in England would give. In Russia large capital is considered fair prey by all who can get itching fingers near it.
These notes give an indication of literary currents and tendencies in the autumn of 1916, in the midst of the war. It should be added that, despite the great rise in prices of all things in Russia, the price of books remains almost as cheap as ever. Reading certainly increases, and consequently makes the general cost of publication less. The most characteristic of the new war phenomena of Russia is still the cry “Gazette, Gazette!” flung up at the trains from the fields wherever you travel. You are asked to throw your old newspapers out of the train window, that the people in the villages may read them. This cry will hardly die down when the war is over. But will the gazette satisfy? Will not books have to follow, and more substantial, better books, because of what the peasants have learned from reality? Russia is waiting for new national writers.
An interesting phenomenon in the life of contemporary Russia is the position taken up by Maxim Gorky as a challenger of the national and traditional ideas in Russian life and literature. He has become the spokesman of a considerable number of working men and middle-class Russians, but has at the same time brought upon his head the wrath not only of old-fashioned people but of a great number of liberal and progressive thinkers. His campaign began when he returned to Russia at the beginning of 1914 and launched his attack on Dostoevsky. The war seemed to cause a lull in his activities, but last winter he resumed his verbal warfare with more energy than ever. His point of view is, that Dostoevsky is bad for Russia, because his outlook was concentrated on suffering and death. Russia must turn her back resolutely on Dostoevsky and seek life. Russia must cease to be mystical, suffering, melancholy, and must become clear-minded and mistress of her soul. The challenge raised a great clamour. At first not many sided with him; but since the appearance of “Two Souls”[3] and “A Letter to the Reader”[4] in the journal Lietopis it becomes evident that he has some following. He has raised a question, and many Russians are considering it for the first time.
The Russian which Gorky attacks is just that which is spiritually interesting to us in England—the mystical and unpractical Russia. Russia on pilgrimage, artistic Russia; and that which he wants Russia to be is just what would have least spiritual interest for us—Russia optimistic, cocksure, businesslike, well-dressed, smart, and Western. He writes:
“The Russian seeking-after-God comes from an insufficiency of conviction in the force of reason—from the need of a weak man to find some guiding will outside himself.
“The turning to mysticism and romantic fantasies is a turning towards stagnation, and is contrary to the interests of a young democracy, poisoning and enfeebling it, giving it a passive attitude towards reality, and suggesting doubt in the force of reason....
“The mind of the ancient East weighs most heavily and murderously on our Russian life, and has an influence immeasurably deeper on our psychology than on that of Western Europe....
“We Russians have two souls; one, derived from the wandering Mongol, is that of the dreamer, mystic, idler, believer in fate; the other is the soul of the Slav, which could burn up bravely and clearly, but cannot because of the other.”