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titania7
07-Oct-2008, 10:04
Although he was not nearly as famous as many of his fellow Russian writers of the same period, Fyodor Sologub most assuredly had a permanent impact on Russian literature. In the words of Yevgeny Zamyatin, author of the novel, We, "Cruel time will erase many, but Sologub's place in Russian literature is assured."

Born in 1863 in St. Petersburg, Russia, Fyodor Teternikov (later Sologub) was a symbolist poet, short story writer, novelist, and dramatist. His mother was an illiterate housemaid and his father, who died when Sologub was just four years of age, was a shoemaker. Sologub was educated at The Teacher's Institute and taught school, mostly mathematics, in St. Petersburg and various provincial towns for over 10 years. In the 1890s, Sologub joined a circle of Symbolist poets who had moved to St. Petersburg. Sologub was very much interested in exploring the world of evil "within oneself." His verses are metaphysical, filled with vivid imagery and, by turns, melancholic and fantastic. His first book of poems, Poems, Book I, was published in 1896. Sologub's two most important collections of short stories, Shadows and Decaying Masks feature mostly children as their protagonists. Sexual undertones in many of these stories led some to vilify Sologub, calling him a "Russian pornographer."

It isn't hard to believe that Sologub might have had unusual sexual proclivities, for there are certainly aspects of his most famous work, The Little Demon, that are somewhat perturbing. Having finished this book yesterday afternoon, it is quite fresh in my memory. It tells the story of Peredonov, a depraved teacher who eventually drives himself into a frenzy with his hallucinations and twisted delusions. Peredonov, in the beginning of the novel, is trying to get promoted to the position of school inspector. From the start, we are aware that Peredonov is both demented and obtuse ("He did not always immediately react to what was funny, as his brain worked slowly, sluggishly.") At the same time he is clearly a paranoiac ("as always, if people laughed in his presence and he didn't get the joke, he concluded that they must be laughing at him.") It would be unlikely that even Nikolai Gogol could have created a more vividly imagined, absurd, and hilariously villainous character than the unforgettable Peredonov. For fun, he enjoys such sadistic activities as watching as others are flagellated and rubbing his pet cat's fur with thistles. On one occasion, he devours a bag of raisins intended for cooking purposes and blames the "theft" on the cook (he even puts the empty bag in the pocket of her jacket). He invents a story that one of his pupils, Sasha, is a girl and does his best to ensure that several of his students are flogged by personally visiting their parents' homes and making up outlandish stories about them.

Sasha Plynikov, who turns out to be a boy, after all (though he is cruelly tormented by his classmates for seeming "girlish"), ends up in a provocative affair with a young woman named Lyudmila. They engage in such erotic, fetish-driven activities as kissing each others' hands and feet obsessively, and Lyudmila insists upon dressing Sasha in women's clothes. The high point of Sasha's forays into dressing as a woman takes place at a masked ball, which Sasha attends in the spectacular guise of a geisha girl. This is such an extravagant scene in the novel that it will definitely not be forgotten.

Peredonov's fiancee is his cousin, Varvara, a haggard, slovenly woman with a sullen temperament ("as usual, she was looking very scruffy, with her grey, grease-spotted blouse, filthy skirt, and worn-out slippers. Her hair was uncombed and hung over her eyes.") Even though Varvara is not a character one can easily empathize with, it is puzzling, considering Peredonov's despicable behavior, that she is so eager to marry him. However, she is. Indeed, she is so anxious that she gets a friend to help her forge a letter. In the letter, Varvara--or rather Varvara's friend--impersonates a princess who has promised to help Peredonov get his promotion if he will but marry Varvara. Peredonov is unaware of the trick Varvara plays on him, and, falling right into the trap, marries her. Throughout all this Peredonov has sightings of a small, rascally "imp"--a little demon, of sorts. At first the sightings of this creature are not frequent. However, as the novel goes on, he begins to see it constantly. As things progress, he starts to become so paranoid that he has fantasies about stacks of playing cards ("Obscure, terrifying shapes silently walked up and down--kings and jacks waved their sceptres, they whispered to each other, tried to hide from Peredonov and crawled towards him under the pillow.") Even when Peredonov cuts all the eyes out of the figures in the playing cards, they still torment him ("He felt that the blinded cards were making faces at him, grinning and winking with the gaping holes where once there had been eyes. Perhaps they've discovered a way of seeing through their noses? Peredonov wondered.")

Towards the end of the book, Peredonov becomes increasingly disturbed by Volodin, a friend who often comes to visit him and Varvara. Volodin, who is often referred to as resembling a sheep (he even bleats!), is not a major character in this book, but he is an essential one. He keeps Peredonov company because he "finds his ridiculous actions amusing" and enjoys listening to his "stupid remarks." But in the final chapter, his keeping company with Peredonov proves fatal.

The words of the title of this book, The Little Demon, refer to Peredonov, not the evil "spirit" that he sees. Sologub used the Russian word Nedotykomka, which is used to describe a person who is moody and overly sensitive.

This is a decadent little book with a certain pungent charm. It is certainly worth a read--maybe even a second read. It is thought that Sologub was trying to portray, through this novel, the sense of imperfection in the world. In the beginning paragraph he sets the stage for the ensuing betrayal, duplicity, and deceit with the lines:

"A stranger to this town, looking upon the idyllic scene, would have thought all was perfect peace and harmony. Appearances, however, are deceptive."

Sologub's other works include two lyric dramas, The Gift of the Wise Bees and Conquest of Death, several plays (among them, Nocturnal Dances), and a trilogy of novels entitled The Created Legend. His personal life was marred by tragedy. His wife, the playwright Anastasiya Chebotarevskaya, whom he married in 1908, committed suicide in 1921, following the Revolution. Sologub died in 1927.

One can find a paucity of information on Sologub online.
You can discover a few things about him here:

Fyodor Sologub (http://kirjasto.sci.fi/sologub.htm)

For those of you who love Russian literature--or who, perhaps, enjoy reading books by writers who are somewhat obscure--I recommend taking a look at Sologub's work, particularly The Little Demon. The last time I was so taken by a Russian writer was six or seven years ago, when I read Oblomov by Ivan Goncharov.

Titania

The Little Demon: my rating: *****


"Only children lie;
adults are mistaken."
~The Little Demon, Fyodor Sologub

Liam
07-Oct-2008, 22:50
Hi Titania:

Thank you for posting this. I have never picked up Sologub's The Petty Demon although I do have a copy of it at home, but I have on the other hand read The Creative Legend in its entirety, as well as some of his short-stories (strong stuff) and poetry (pretty weak).

One story that stands out, even now, in my memory is called The Maggot--about a northern boarding-school for girls, with a sadistic headmaster and his wife taunting one of the girls (somebody's "poor relation") to death. (Yes, you have read it correctly).

The story begins with the girl (whose name was Vanda, I think), breaking the headmaster's favorite drinking cup by accident. He comes home, throws a fit, and begins assaulting the "culprit" verbally. In the end, he says he will probably not punish her, as "the maggot" will come to her in the night, enter her belly and suck the life out of her, which, in his opinion at least, should be more than sufficient.

At this point the girl begins to have nightly visions/hallucinations involving the aforementioned maggot; she can feel something growing inside her belly, and has a weird sensation, upon waking up one night, of a warm and slippery "something" trying to slide in between her lips and into her mouth.

I won't reveal the ending (although in Sologub's universe things rarely, if ever, end "well"), but the story filled me with utter DREAD, which even the darkest passages from H. P. Lovecraft have never managed to do.

I had to translate it for school as part of a translating contest (I did not win, heh-heh), and since I was heavily into psychoanalysis at the time, I gave it a kind of Freudian interpretation, concluding that everything that transpired ultimately had to do with molestation, the maggot being an obvious phallic symbol, etc., etc.

The Created Legend, which is the text Sologub is primarily known for (although don't quote me on this), is probably the strangest book I have ever read. A kind of trilogy, it starts out in an undefined area of pre-revolutionary Russia (Drops of Blood), then moves to an imaginary 18th century island kingdom (The Queen Ortruda), before literally merging both times and places in the third volume (Smoke and Ashes).

Reading the first book was enough to permanently freak me out, what with the naked women swimming in the river, licentious postmen spying on them from behind some bushes (LOL), and mysterious crazy doctors digging up children's corpses with the intention of bringing them back to life.

The only equivalent I have ever found to Sologub's prose was in cinema: the films of the Canadian filmmaker Guy Maddin. If you have seen any of his movies, but preferably Archangel (1990) and A Brand Upon the Brain! (2006), you will know what I'm talking about. Surreal imagery, coupled with sinister melancholy, producing, in the end, a strangely poetic meditation on politics and the human place therein, Sologub's Legend is the weirdest novel, or a trilogy of novels, I have ever chanced to come across.

titania7
08-Oct-2008, 08:08
Hi Liam:

Glad you appreciated the Fyodor Sologub post. I can't tell you how fabulous it is to come across someone who's actually read his work! You're the first person I've met who ever has, believe it or not. I met a woman from Russia a few years ago who knew nearly all the Russian writers, but when it came to Sologub, she said she hadn't ever heard of him (and I believe she was from Petersburg).

I had concluded (perhaps wrongly?) that The Little Demon was Sologub's best-known work. It's the only work of his I've ever seen at a book store, at any rate (and it wasn't easy to find). I see that some of his other works are available at amazon, however. Thus, perhaps I'll be able to afford to add to my Sologub collection soon.

I would've liked to read your Freudian interpretation of "The Maggot." Too bad you didn't win the contest. I'm sure you did a great job on your translation, Liam.

The Created Legend sounds like a must-read. I'm rarely freaked-out by anything (Polanski's film, "Repulsion," being an exception). So, it would be interesting to see what an impression the book makes on me. I haven't read a great deal of H. P. Lovecraft. But I do like Robert Bloch (if you've ever read "Enoch," you will know what I mean when I say Bloch is a little twisted).

As for the films of Guy Maddin, I confess I'm completely unfamiliar with him. I'll have to look him up. These days it seems I'm finding less and less time to watch movies. I don't watch any television at all--but still, I only seem to manage to see 2 films a week, at most. Currently, I'm watching a film adaptation by Claude Chabrol of Ruth Rendell's novel, The Bridesmaid. It's quite a chilling little movie. Definitely recommended. Chabrol has always been a favorite of mine, and Rendell is perhaps my favorite "mystery" writer (I even hate to put her in the "mystery writer" category, because she can be downright brilliant sometimes). If you ever have the urge to check out Rendell's writing, Liam, don't miss One Across, Two Down. I think you would find it most enjoyable.

I'm pleased we now have a thread for Sologub, as I'll definitely post comments about more of his work as I peruse it. I would love to hear your thoughts on The Little Demon, too--after you've read it, naturally ;).


Best,
Titania


"Writing has laws of perspective, of light and shade, just as painting does, or music. If you are born knowing them, fine. If not, learn them. Then rearrange the rules to suit yourself."
~Truman Capote

Backwords
13-Nov-2009, 22:31
Any Sologub fans?

This early soviet era author is much closer to my heart then any of his more famous contemporaries, and for that matter the old Russian writers as well, but he's not for everyone.

The Petty Demon is a lovely piece of work.

Liam
14-Nov-2009, 03:22
This early soviet era author...
Hmm, I wouldn't call him that, exactly. Most of his major works, written in the general Symbolist vein, were published well before 1917.


The Petty Demon came out in 1907.

Backwords
15-Nov-2009, 23:38
That's true excepting one thing, although he was anti-revolutionary he was intellectually an early representative of the forthcoming soviet intelligentsia. The anti "poshlust" spirit he worked from is key to the soviet intellectual milieu.

But just on the face of it for me he must belong more to the soviet era in that he is, like Blok, closer to the moderns, to Bulgakof and Pasternak then to the old school.

Intellectually the soviet era can be dated as far back as the 1870s.