From word art to literature

In 988, Vladimir converted to Orthodox Christianity. In 1703, Peter the Great founded St. Petersburg. At first glance, nothing brings these two events together, yet each of them will have a decisive impact on Russian literature. The first revolution was therefore religious; the monks put writing at the service of the evangelisation of a people who had hitherto been devoted to paganism. Slavon was chosen because if this liturgical language, still used today, has not been spoken for a long time, it has the undeniable advantage of being read by the greatest number, in that we could hastily bring it closer to Latin. The oldest book to have come down to us, the Novgorod Codex, a wooden and wax tablet dating from the tenth century, presents various psalms, the second, theEvangeline of Ostromir, is a parchment illuminated by the deacon Gregory in the eleventh century. Over the centuries, however, the fixed language had to adapt to the current one, and so Old Russian was born, which can be found in rare texts, including The Tale of Igor's Campaign, Sviatoslavitch's military journey in the 12th century. The Kiev Rus' is under strong Byzantine influence and the literates have little desire to protect the local folklore, yet the legendary characters and other bogatyrs (valiant knights) continue to live their lives in bylines, free verse poems transmitted orally. From this ancient period, we must finally remember the Chronicle of the Past Times of the monk Nestor. But already the Tatar-Mongolian invasion of 1226 and the reconquest in the 16th century were already looming, Ivan the Terrible designates himself as the sole heir of Vladimir, his reign is troubled and yet an opening towards the outside world is then taking shape which will be confirmed, in the following century, by the arrival to power of Peter the Great. The man travelled a long way, his willingness to reform and to draw inspiration from Western models was such that it had an impact on the whole of society, including literature. The alphabet was simplified, schools were created, Saint Petersburg was built on stilts and French culture first invaded the streets where these gentlemen walked freshly shaved, before overwhelming the world of letters where love, hitherto decried, became fashionable. A first generation of authors, in the strict sense of the word, is born. Like Antioch Cantemir (1708-1744) and Vassili Trediakovski (1703-1769), they were inspired by the translations of Greek and Latin masters, and did not hesitate to devote themselves to this delicate art, the former dedicating himself to Fontenelle's Entretiens sur la pluralité des mondes (Talks on the plurality of worlds ), which earned him censorship, but opened the doors of philosophy to him, the latter being interested in and completing the work of Paul Tallemand, Voyage de l'isle d'amour (Journey to the Isle of Love). The vocabulary was enriched, poetry was structured, and metrics were adapted to the particularities of the Russian language, which was the subject of a first Grammar Treatise in 1755, written by Mikhail Lomonossov. Alexander Suvarokov (1717-1777) was the founding father of classical theatre and the creator of the first satirical review, The Worker Bee. While his style lacks finesse, as well as his irascible character, his comedies and tragedies, Khorev, Sinav and The Tutor, to name but a few, delight an audience hungry for entertainment. Catherine II made him director of the Imperial Theatres and under his leadership the first national theatre company was formed, headed by the actor Fyodor Volkov. Finally, the ode was perfected by the grace of Gavrila Derjavine (1743-1816), who did not hesitate to dedicate hers to the Empress as much as to God, not skimping on lyricism or humour, her personal touch.

The art of the novel

The big missing element is of course the novel, although some people try to do so. The Turk of Polish origin, Fedor Emine (1735-1770) was inspired by French successes, from Rousseau to Fénelon. His short career earned him at most the reputation of being the first Russian novelist, even if his fame is not really there. Following him, Mikhail Tchoulkov sketched out another approach, the novel of manners, with La Jolie Cuisinière published in 1770, whose only merit lies in its desire to restore popular speech. In the end, it was by working to preserve it, by collecting stories and other songs, that he made his mark on the memory. A member of the Academy, founded in 1783, Mikhail Kheraskov attempted a final, more intellectual attempt, but his prose was too poetic. Thus, for The Rossiade, which celebrates the deliverance from Russia, and Vladimir

, his poem on the baptism of the Grand Prince who became a saint, he is willingly compared to Homer, but not really to Father Prevost. Fades ersatz of the French novels that the literate delight in, or lacks the salt of imagination, still the recipe does not take, for the moment. Classicism gives way to Romanticism, and is perfectly illustrated in the work of Vassili Joukovski (1783-1852), the author of Rouslan and Ludmila. Despite an incredible family history, his mother having been torn from the harem of the Turkish governor of Bendery, himself the natural son of a nobleman who had him adopted by one of his protégés, the man enjoyed a significant career and encouraged as much as possible the coming generation, the generation through which Russian literature finally managed to break free from Western standards. In 1815, the Arzamas Circle, which he led around the European Romantic style, welcomed a poet in the making: Alexander Pushkin. Although our country respects him for his short stories, such as The Queen of Spades, and for his novels, Eugene Onegin and The Captain's Daughter, we underestimate the love that his fellow citizens continue to have for this freedom-loving man and to disregard his poetry. Perfectly aware of French culture, he cultivated his bilingualism and was inspired by European classics without ever trying to imitate them, playing with the censorship he was subjected to throughout his life. Pushkin lost his life in a duel in 1837, a tragedy that inspired the anger and disarray of Mikhail Lermontov, then aged 24, which he put into words in The Death of a Poet addressed to Nicholas I. Three years later, the author published, still successfully, his masterpiece, A Hero of Our Time, a portrait of a disillusioned young man who oscillates between heroism and cynicism. The romanticism of the theme cannot hide the lucidity shown by the writer who, although he does not talk about himself, as he defends himself, seems to paint a very realistic fresco of a society entirely turned towards futility. Ironically, it was also in a duel that Lermontov died the following year. Political satire? The question also arose during the first performance of Nicolas Gogol's play Rezior, which fortunately ended with a burst of laughter from Emperor Nicholas I who was present in the hall on that evening in 1836. Yet the author does not seem to be in search of scandal, until then his short stories cultivated rather the art of the grotesque or the fantastic fibre(Les Soirée du Hameau, published by Folio), but he condemns himself to a long exile of twelve years which he uses to work on his great project, the one he will never stop taking up again, Les Âmes mortes. Begun as a farce, this novel nevertheless becomes critical of Tsarist Russia. Finally authorized by censorship, it was published in 1842, the year from which Nicolas Gogol sank into a mysticism destined to become madness. Unbeknownst to him, perhaps, the writer prefigures the path that will henceforth be the one taken by the greatest: realism. Thus, Ivan Turgenev (1818-1883), in his collection The Memoirs of a Hunter, which miraculously escaped the censors in 1852, but still earned him a month in prison, does not hesitate to denounce the precarious conditions of serfs in Russia. Ten years later, Pères et Fils provokes just as many reactions, the author featuring a nihilist character, Bazarov, who opposes family traditions. A fervent Westerner, Turgenev has nothing in common with Fedor Dostoevsky who, despite his years in the Gulag, becomes a convinced Slavophile.

The must-haves

Born in 1821 in Moscow and died in 1881 in Saint Petersburg, Fedor Dostoevsky produced in sixty years a work that made him one of the most famous writers of his country, a work that reflects his life, violent, intense, where extremes coexist not without difficulty. The son of a doctor, he falls prey to the alcoholic wanderings of a father who cannot control his rage, and who, according to rumours, dies murdered by the mujiks he mistreats. The truth would be quite different, it is to a stroke that Mikhaïl Dostoïevski would have succumbed, but the announcement of his death triggers in the young Fedor, then 18 years old, an attack which has all the symptoms of the great evil that will not leave him in peace, epilepsy. Enlisted under family pressure in a military career, while he undoubtedly preferred the escape offered by books, he finally resigned in 1844 to devote himself to writing his first novel. Published two years later, Les Pauvres Gens earned him immediate recognition from the literary world, but also some critics who targeted more particularly his lack of manners at social events. Indeed, Fedor has become accustomed to frequenting various circles, including that of the Fourierist Mikhaïl Petrachevski, who is gradually becoming politically opposed to Nicholas I. In April 1849, the Emperor was worried about a possible insurrection and had all the members of the group arrested. Dostoyevsky was sentenced to death and, on 22 December of the same year, suffered the horror of a mock execution on Semenovsky Square. At the last moment, his sentence is commuted to forced labour, and for four years he will be exiled to Siberia, a terrible period, although softened by a few strong encounters and meagre favours, which will inspire his Carnets de la maison morte, to be discovered by the Babel publishing house in a new translation by André Markowicz. In 1854, Dostoyevsky regained relative freedom, and in 1860 the right to settle in Saint Petersburg. In spite of tumultuous love affairs-the prevalent misery-this period coincided with the writing of many of his masterpieces, Mémoires écrits dans un souterrain (1864), Crime et Châtiment (1866), Le Joueur, also in 1866, and L'Idiot , which was published in serials from 1868 to 1869. The writer enjoyed a growing influence, although in his personal life he accumulated torments, and his writings foreshadowed what would become in 1880 his ultimate novel, The Brothers Karamazov, the culmination of an admirable talent and a destiny that would tragically come to an end the following year. In this tale, embellished with the suspense typical of thrillers, three brothers are alternately suspected of having killed their odious progenitor, as an echo to the original drama, but above all as a pretext to paint a Russia in full upheaval. This country, which seems to forge men as much as it crushes them, also gives birth to Leo Tolstoy (1828-1910), another sacred monster of Russian letters. A titanic physique, ultra-sensitive childlike, his life resonates strangely with that of Dostoyevsky, his contemporary, whom he will never meet. He too finds himself an orphan, penniless, and frequents the social salons out of envy, then the battlefields by choice. It is between two confrontations, on the borders of the Caucasus, where he joined his elder brother, a career soldier, that the desire to put into words the memories of his youth, not so distant, comes to him. His first text, Enfance, was well received and was immediately published in the magazine Le Contemporain. During the siege of Sebastopol, where he proved his bravery, he put the finishing touches to his second opus, Adolescence. The trilogy ends with Youth in 1856, the same year he exchanged his uniform for civilian clothes. Weary of war, he now occupies the intellectual terrain, without abandoning his rough manners and outspokenness, which earned him many reprisals. As he embarks on a new struggle, one in which he ardently wishes for the abolition of serfdom, Leo Tolstoy also shows his contradictions, those he feels when his desire to write is confronted with his desire to exist in the world. His marriage to the very young Sophie Behrs in 1862, a mythical union of forty-eight springs and as many winters, will raise further questions, but will encourage him to complete the writing of his undisputed masterpiece, War and Peace. A monument to Russian literature, the fruit of several years of work, this novel is one of those irracontables, one can hardly specify that the plot takes place from 1805 to 1820, but embraces with the same ardour several episodes in the life of the country, that the protagonists are numerous, and that it deals with themes dear to the author, serfdom and secret societies, the latter not hesitating to enamel his subject with personal reflections. Those who are concerned about the scope of this reading may first turn to another classic by Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina, a portrait of a faithful mother and wife whose devouring passion for a young officer will lead to drama. Finally, the curious who would like to rub shoulders with a capital work jointly praised by Fedor Dostoevsky and Leo Tolstoy, will willingly turn to Ivan Goncharov's Oblomov

(Folio editions), another incisive portrait, that of a man who delights in his lethargy. The second half of the 19th century, decidedly fruitful, greeted the birth of two other great authors, Anton Chekhov (1860-1904) and Maxim Gorki (1868-1936). The first had an agile pen, but the seriousness of a life of hard work can be measured by the hundreds of texts he wrote, while at the same time practising his profession as a doctor. From a childhood under the control of a father who combines brutality and bigotry, to an adolescence during which his family abandons him in Taganrog, leaving him with the heavy burden, at 16, of liquidating moribund affairs, the man retains gravity and a sense of responsibility, those that will incite him to write for the newspapers, winning thanks to the words he effortlessly lines up, and without suspecting his potential, the kopeks that his family, which he has finally joined in Moscow, need to survive. At the age of 25, Chekhov became a doctor and, ironically, sick with tuberculosis. A letter from a famous writer influenced his destiny, his talent was revealed to him and it was through a short story, The Steppe, and a play, Ivanov, that he kept his two promises: to abandon his pseudonyms and to devote himself more seriously to his second vocation, his "mistress", writing. The triumph was immediate, crowned with the prestigious Pushkin Prize in 1888, the public adoled him while he continued to evoke the mediocrity of existence in his private letters. Success did not wrench him from his despair, but did not take anything away from his humanistic impulses: whether it be towards his friends or his patients, Chekhov was present for his loved ones, but remained as if absent, indifferent to himself. At the end of 1889, he took the radical and misunderstood decision, particularly in view of his state of health, to go to the island of Sakhalin, where a sadly renowned penitentiary was located. A duty of conscience that will take the form of a 500-sheet report that he writes before finally agreeing on a short European journey. On his return, however, responsibilities once again overwhelmed him, and he still found time to write Une morne histoire in 1889, Le Duel in 1891, La Salleno 6 in 1892... In 1896, his play La Mouette, which is now one of our classics, was presented for the first time, but the public remained insensitive to the implication of this ode to freedom. Two years later, thanks to a new troupe, the play was a success and with it the love that took the form of the actress Olga Knipper. A belated but frustrating passion, recurring absences and illness too often drive away the loving hearts. Anyone who thought that he would be forgotten as soon as he left this world was mistaken, today Uncle Vania, The Three Sisters or The Lady with the Little Dog still live in our libraries. Chekhov will not experience the 1905 Revolution, the one that sounded the exile of his friend Maxim Gorky. At the time, the latter was already recognized as a writer, and for a long time the texts he published in the greatest magazines were noticed internationally, and were even brought together in 1898 under the title Sketches and Stories. A decisive impact, confirmed by his play Les Bas-Fonds in 1902. Was it in the throes of a difficult childhood that forced him to give up his studies and made him aware of the misery of the roads that man drew his will to highlight the Russian people? Oscillating between realism and romanticism, Gorky liked to paint little people as legendary figures, an optimism that resonated with his political commitment and, above all, with his increasingly assertive desire to change the world. These revolutionary connections and then the incitement to overthrow the monarchy he wrote after joining the Bolshevik Party forced him to take refuge abroad where he finished The Enemies, published The Mother, first in an American magazine in 1906 and then in Berlin the following year, and reflected on The Confession (1908) which so displeased his friend Lenin. In 1913, thanks to an amnesty, he returned to his native land, but entered into a more or less latent dissonance with his former comrades. The twenty-three years he had left to live would be tinged with censorship, new departures, renunciations, no doubt, but always with that commitment that defines him so well. Even today, the reading of his autobiographical trilogy, Childhood, Earning my Bread and My Universities, remains fundamental.

From the silver age to the darkness

On the other hand, the beginning of the 20th century, known as the Silver Age, witnessed an effervescence of currents in -ism. Symbolism, in the first place, whose manifesto Dimitri Merejkowski had signed as early as 1893 and which he and his wife Zinaïda Hippius never ceased to theorize, was carried by Alexandre Blok, whose most famous text, Twelve, was published bilingually by Allia, and by his "enemy brother" Andreï Biély, the author of La Colombe d'argent (published by Noir sur Blanc). Acmeism, on the other hand, rejects all mysticism and instead advocates a return to the clarity and materiality of the world. It is proclaimed by Nikolaï Goumilev in 1912, soon joined by Anna Akhmatova and Ossip Mandelstam, three souls who will know fatal fates. Futurism, represented by Vélimir Khlebnikov, frees language from its obligation to signify, concentrates on the form and sound of the word. The October Revolution in 1917, which saw the overthrow of the Tsarist regime and the seizure of power by the Bolsheviks, did not interrupt the enthusiasm of the poets, on the contrary the young Vladimir Mayakovsky joined Futurism and became the emblem of the avant-garde. Serge Essénine, for his part, published Radounitsa in 1916, a bitter love song to nature to be rediscovered, under the title La Ravine, published by Héros-Limite. His last poem, written in his own blood, was discovered in the room of the Hôtel Angleterre where, on December 28, 1925, he killed himself. Three years later, Mikhaïl Cholokhov published the first part of Don paisible

, which won him a Nobel Prize for Literature in 1965. A priori, writers enjoy relative freedom, yet the arrival of Stalin and the socialist realism he imposed, this doctrine that requires a work to reflect and promote communism, signals the end of freedom of expression. Exile, labour camp, more or less voluntary suicide, the fate of intellectuals is delicate. Some continue to write, manuscripts circulate under the mantle, they are the famous samizdat publications, or remain in drawers while waiting for more favourable, even surprising circumstances. This is how The Master and Margarita appeared only 26 years after the death of Mikhail Bulgakov, which occurred in 1940, or how Doctor Zhivago was distributed in pirate version by the CIA in 1958, which did not prevent Boris Pasternak from being forced by the authorities to refuse the Nobel Prize which was awarded to him the same year. The story of the manuscript of Life and Destiny, the masterpiece of Vassili Grossman (1905-1964), is chilling, so much so that it reflects what man has had to endure in terms of suffering and disillusionment, a pain that resonates with the career of the dissident Alexander Solzhenitsyn, who took advantage of a relative relaxation of censorship to publish, in 1962, A Day of Ivan Dissovich, a text that explains the existence of camps in the interior of the country, earning him the Nobel Prize in 1970... and the forfeiture of his nationality. A literature, known as Gulag literature, which will also be expressed in the sublime Récits de la Kolyma by Varlam Chalamov (1907-1982), which is urgently needed from Verdier. This long century of drama takes a breather with perestroika and the end of censorship in 1992. If freedom is never acquired, Russian literature has been reborn and continues to be exported, new names conquer the shelves of bookshops, Andreï Guelassimov evokes the Chechen war in The Thirst (Babel), Svetlana Aleksievicth is the first Russian-speaking woman to be awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2015, postmodernist Vladimor Sorokin tackles totalitarianism in La Glace (Points editions), Victor Remizov evokes Russia's hold on Siberia in Volia Volnaïa published in paperback by 10-18 in 2019, and the classics continue to amaze readers.