by Serge Persky
IV
VIKENTY VERESSAYEV
Veressayev is well known in France for his "Memoirs of a Physician,"a work that has been translated into almost every language. However,his reputation in Russia is not based on this book, which isconsidered his masterpiece, but rather on his stories and tales. Letus, however, first take a glance at the life of this author, a lifeso closely connected with the subjects of his works that it forms anindispensable commentary on them.
Veressayev, whose real name is Vikenty Smidovich, was born in 1867,in Tula. His father was a Pole and his mother a Russian. His father,a very pious and strictly moral man, was a well known and well likedphysician. In 1877, the boy entered the local school and receivedhis degree there seven years later. In 1884, he left for theUniversity of St. Petersburg, where he enrolled in the department ofhistorical sciences. Four years later, when he was twenty-four and ahalf, he received his degree of licentiate of letters.[5] Most ofhis class-mates became school-teachers, but he preferred to pursuehis studies. Medicine tempted him. He left for Zhouriev (formerlyDorpat, already famous for its department of medicine) and enteredthe university, where, at the end of six years, he received hisdoctor's degree.
[5] On the continent of Europe, a university degree between that of bachelor and of doctor.
Two years before, in 1892, a cholera epidemic had broken out inRussia. Young Smidovich, then a fourth-year student, asked to besent immediately to a province in the East, where the epidemic wasspreading like wildfire. He remained there several months, in factuntil the plague had gone. As a doctor's assistant in an infirmaryorganized in one of the mining districts of the government ofEkaterinoslav, he witnessed a peasant revolt in which severaldoctors were killed and others cruelly burned by the exasperated andignorant mob. Veressayev has traced these sad events with tremendouspower in his story, "Astray."
His doctor's degree in his pocket, he went to Tula, where hepractised for several months, but soon the position of house-surgeonwas offered to him in the Botkin Hospital in St. Petersburg. Heremained there seven years, till 1901, when, by order of theMinister of the Interior, who has charge of all hospitalappointments, he was forced to retire from office and was expelledfrom St. Petersburg and forbidden to reside in either of the twocapitals, Moscow or St. Petersburg. The reason for this was, thatthe name Veressayev appeared on the petition of the "intellectuals"which had been given to the Minister of the Interior, protestingagainst the brutal attitude of the police during a studentmanifestation in the Kazan cathedral on March 4, 1901. This petitionbrought severe punishment to almost all the people whose names weresigned to it. Veressayev went abroad; he visited Italy, France,Germany and Switzerland.
Gifted with poetic inspiration, he had begun writing at an earlyage. He was not more than fourteen when he translated some poems ofKoerner and Goethe into Russian verse. Later, when at college, hewrote some short prose tales, which were published in variouspapers. But it was in 1896, when the "Russkoe Bogatsvo," the largeSt. Petersburg review, had published his two important stories,"Astray" and "The Contagion," that renown came to him. It came sosuddenly that it troubled him and was almost a blow to his modesty,which is one of the sympathetic traits of his personality.
In fact, there came a time when the attention of the literary world,especially among the younger generation, became so wrapped up in hisworks that Gorky and Tchekoff sank to a second level. Thisenthusiasm was caused by the fact that Veressayev's works answered ageneral need. They brought into the world of literature a series ofcharacters who summed up the rising fermentation of new ideas andseemed to be spokesmen, around whom the Russian revolutionary forcesgathered,--forces which, up to this time, had been scattered. An eraof struggle for liberty began.
It is rather important, I think, for the proper understanding ofthis period to say a few words concerning its history.
The struggle of the younger generation against the autocracy beganabout 1860, at the time of the freeing of the serfs, a period knownin Russia as the "epoch of great reforms." These ameliorations,which extended into almost every domain of Russian life, left intactthe autocracy, which, under pretence of protecting itself, foughtsuccessfully against all activity and thus brought about, among theyounger generation, a general movement towards freedom andsocialism. But the autocracy found its best help in the ignorance ofthe people. Urban commerce, little developed at that time,practically interested only the peasants--which means nine-tenths ofthe population of Russia. It was natural, then, that the peasantsshould become the principal object of the revolutionary propaganda,and that tremendous efforts should be made on all sides in order toawaken them from their dangerous sleep.
The peasant uprisings in the history of Russia, especially the tworevolts directed by Stepan Razin in the 17th century, and Pugachevin the 18th, proved the fact that the masses could unite in ageneral insurrection. This time, the "intellectuals" joined. As theyadvocated a sort of communism, periodic redivisions of landaccording to the growth of the population, and as they harped on thetradition that land was a gift of God which no one had a right toown, we can easily see that the agricultural proletariat wouldwelcome with open arms the socialistic ideas.
Although this popular movement did not affect many people, it wasattacked with such pitiless cruelty, that the revolutionists decidedto have recourse to the red terror in order to fight the whiteterror which was cutting down their ranks. The secret goal of thismovement was to replace the autocratic regime with politicalinstitutions emanating from the will of the people. In order toaccomplish its reforms more quickly, this party, which called itselfthe "Popular Will," incited several attempts at murder; Russia thenwitnessed dynamite outrages against imperial trains and palaces, andfinally, the assassination of the Emperor Alexander II. For a momentthe autocratic regime seemed to totter under these sudden and fierceblows, but it soon recovered. The white terror proved to bestronger than the red. Many executions and banishments helped tocrush the partisans of the "Popular Will;" then, when the movementhad been checked, the authorities began to repress even theslightest desire for independence on the part of the press, theuniversities, or any other institutions which could do good to thepeople. Dejection and disillusion dominated this period from 1880 to1900, which has been so faithfully portrayed in the works ofTchekoff.
Nevertheless, in spite of the fact that their ideals had come tonought, those of the red terror had not disappeared, and hoperemained in their breasts.
Tchekoff was still living when new symptoms of fermentation appearedin Russia, and he could have alluded to this in his later works. Buthe did not have a fighting nature, and, in his solitude, he lookedat conditions with melancholy scepticism. There was need of a man, awriter--like Gorky several years later--born right in the midst ofthis movement, who would be the very product of it, and for whom itsideas would be a reason for existence.
Veressayev was this man and writer, and it is as much by hispolitical opinions as by his literary talents that he gained such awide-spread reputation. If his works are not always irreproachablefrom a literary standpoint, they are always accurate in describingexactly what the author himself has seen and lived through.
* * * * *
Veressayev, in three great stories, gives us the three phases of themovement between 1880 and 1900. These three stories, "Astray," "TheContagion" and "At the Turn," are of such extreme importance, thatin the following pages there will be a detailed analysis of each ofthem.
The two protagonists of the story, "Astray," are Dr. Chekanhov andhis cousin Natasha. The former is at the end of his moral life, thelatter is on the threshold, and both of them are "astray," becausethe one has not found the road on which to travel through life, andthe other is just beginning to look for it. The entire existence ofChekanhov is dominated by the idea that it is _his duty to serve thepeople_, which was the basis of the activity of the "narodnikis."According to him, the "intellectuals," who represent a small andprivileged fraction of the population, are the debtors
of the peopleand ought to pay their debt by giving the people knowledge andcomfort. This theory is burned into his very soul; it is the leadingthought that directs all of his actions. At this epoch, few menshowed such absolute devotion. From 1880 to 1890, after the cruelsuppression of the movement of the "narodnikis," there was a stop inthis revolutionary activity. Unaware of this pacification, Chekanhovmakes great exertions; as a doctor, he combats disease and savesseveral people. But how exhaust the source of this evil, thismisery, which is increased by a despotic social order? Chekanhovspends his energy in vain; where else shall he apply his strength?
The famine of 1891! Dr. Chekanhov speaks only of his despair: "Aterrible malady beats down on one after another of the inhabitants;it is an epidemic of typhoid caused by the privations which left usnumb and weak." In 1892 an epidemic of cholera broke out. In spiteof the prayers of his parents, the young man rushes off to the mostinfected district. One day, he penetrates into an infected hovel.The children are sprawling everywhere, the mother is foolish andstupid, and the father, weakened by prison labor, has come down withcholera. The wife forbids the doctor, whom she accuses of poisoningthe sick, to approach her husband. Scorning the danger, in order toencourage the sick man, the doctor drinks out of the very cup whichthe invalid has used. Nothing counts with him as long as he caninspire confidence and save people from death.
"What good is there in love between good and strong people," addsChekanhov, after having noted down this cure in his "Journal,""since it results only in miserable abortions? And why are thepeople held down to work which is so rough and unpleasant? Whatmotive supports them in their painful labor? Is it the desire topreserve their infected hovels?"
At the end of these reflections could not Chekanhov, absolutely indespair, have abandoned his task? No, he knew how to keep up hisdevotion. Sacrificing his life for others, Chekanhov begins to lovelife again. He says to himself: "Life is good ... but will it be fora long time?" We do not catch the answer.
Furious voices are heard, and a savage and cruel mob calls him apoisoner and hurls itself upon him, beating and striking him.
Exhausted by the blows and jeered at by those whom he had consideredhis brothers in need and for whom he had put himself in constantperil, he lies stretched out on his bed, suffering severely; but henourishes no grudge against his tormentors; on the contrary, hisapostle-like character is moved with pity at the thought of theseuncultured and ignorant beings so unconscious of the evil that theyare doing. And several days before his death he writes the followingtragic words in his "Journal," almost terrifying in theirsimplicity:
"They have beaten me! They have beaten me like a mad dog because Icame to help them and because I used all my knowledge and strength,in one word, gave all that I had. I am not thinking now about howmuch I loved these people and how badly I feel at the way they havetreated me. I simply did not succeed in gaining their confidence; Idid succeed in making them believe in me for a while, but soon amere trifle was enough to plunge them back among their dark shadowsand to awaken in them an elemental, brutal instinct. And now I haveto die. I am not afraid of death, but of a tarnished life full ofempty remorse. Why have I struggled? In the name of what am I goingto die? I am only a poor victim stripped of the strength of an idealand cared for by no one.... It had to be so, for we were alwaysstrangers to them, beings belonging to another world; we scornfullyavoid them, without trying to know them, and a terrible abyssseparates us from them."
It is interesting to note how Chekanhov is regarded by the newgeneration and especially by the woman he loves, his cousin Natasha.She believes in him, she expects a gospel of life from him; butChekanhov cannot respond to her; he adheres to such vagueexpressions as: "work," "idea," "duty towards the people." He saysto her: "You want an idea which will dominate you entirely and whichwill lead you to a definite goal; you want me to give you astandard and say: 'Fight and die for it.' I have read more than you,I have had more experience than you, but like you, _I Do Not Know_,and that is our torture." According to Chekanhov, all of hisgeneration are in the same position: it is _Astray_, without aguiding star, it is perishing without realizing it.... Finally, inorder to avoid the pressing questions of Natasha, who would like towork and sacrifice herself for the poor, he points out to her thesalutary work of the village school-mistress. A few days later hedies, welcoming death with joy.
* * * * *
While the people who were ending their existence and those who werebeginning it were so carefully looking for a field of action, theuncultivated ground of Russian life was gradually being cleared bythe slow evolution of an economic movement. Between 1895 and 1900,as a result of the natural development of national commerce, thenumber of city workingmen grew to vast proportions and they formedan important class, which, on account of its situation, was muchmore qualified than the peasants to interest itself in the ideas ofsocialism and liberty. So from the very midst of the people certainindividuals appeared capable of adopting progressive ideas; Marxismawaited them, the theory which is the basis of European democraticsocialism. This doctrine was nothing new in Russia. But formerly,the proletariat of the cities had been very little developed and theMarxian doctrines had been of theoretical interest only.
"The Contagion" has for its heroine Natasha,--the Natasha that wehave already met, but how transformed! She has at last found herbearings. If, in 1892, she was waiting for the right road to beshown to her, in 1896 she was enthusiastically following the newroad opened by the doctrines of Marx.
In Zharoshenko's famous picture, "The Student," Uspensky notessomething new in this type of femininity. He calls it "the masculinetrait"; it is the mark of thought. He sees there the harmoniousfusion of a young girl and an adolescent boy, with an expressionneither feminine nor masculine, but exceptionally human. And thistransforms Zharoshenko's "Student" into a luminous personification,unknown up to this time, a type which synthesizes "le type humain."
In the work of Veressayev this student is Natasha. Reflection hasripened her mind since her last talk with poor Chekanhov. She hasbecome a regular "mannish woman," having seen and thought a greatdeal. She has traveled; she has lived in St. Petersburg and in thesouth of Russia. Full of courage and energy, she claims to be fullysatisfied with her lot; she begs her companions to follow the roadshe has found, and when they refuse she becomes angry with them. Incompany with her comrade Dayev she vigorously attacks theconvictions of the men of Kisselev, who see sufficient safety in theworkingmen's associations; she rises up, in the name of Marxism,against the "narodnikis," whom she considers ingenuous idealists;she refuses to endorse the theories of the "intellectuals," whooppose the thought of any great work, since they believe thatsmaller deeds are more immediately realizable. When one of them, adoctor, Troitsky, ends his conversation with her with these words:"It is not necessary to wear one's brains out trying to solvedifficult problems while there is so much immediate need and so fewworkers," she puts an end to the discussion. Shrugging hershoulders, in a trembling voice she answers: "How can you live andthink as you do? New problems confront us, and you stand before themand do nothing, because you have lost confidence. I can't work anylonger with you, because it would mean dedicating myself blindly to'spiritual death.'"
Veressayev does not show us how she solves the problems of which shespeaks. The adepts of this sort of social apostleship usuallypropagate their ideas among the workingmen, help them, and play apart in conspiracies. Natasha offers herself up. But the censorshiphas not allowed Veressayev to carry his subject on, and he haslimited himself to showing us Natasha in company with her friendsand disciples, giving herself up to oratorical tilts, discussingprinciples, and uttering long discourses full of passion, faith, andjuvenile impatience,--discourses which unfortunately are mistaken intheir reasoning.
* * * * *
In realizing from the socialist ideal the logical and inevitableconsequence of capitalism, which continues according to a lawindependent of human will, the Marxi
an doctrine dissipates thedoubts and consolidates the faith of those who adopt it. Accordingto this faith, the socialists do not have to create socialism, theyonly have to cooeperate in the historical process which willinevitably make socialism grow. In thus recognizing the supremity ofthe law of history, socialism, utopian up to this time, becomesscientific and, under its new form, it is no longer subject to theinfluence of personal opinions, no matter how full of genius theymay be. But this "scientific socialism," which, on account of thebackwardness of political economy, could be only a step ahead, wastaken by the younger generation of Russia as the "dernier mot" ofthe science. The result was, that several narrow and exclusivedogmas were grafted on this doctrine. Thus, the theory of "classstruggle" transformed itself into the absolute negation of allcommunity interests between the diverse social strata. The"materialistic"--or rather "economic"--point of view, according towhich the products of spiritual activity in the history of humanitylose all independence, being only the consequences of economicorganization, generated scorn for all idealism; and the proletariatcharacter of the socialistic movement impelled society to divideinto two hostile and irreconcilable parts, one of which is made upof the proletariats, the other of the elements opposed to socialism.To this last party the enormous mass of half-starved peasants joineditself. The peasants, according to the Marxian doctrine, cannotunderstand socialism until they have become proletariats themselves,instead of becoming miserable landed proprietors. And this"proletariazation" of about 100,000,000 peasants, the ferventMarxists consider a fatal and desirable event in the near future.
These theories, carried to excess, were sure to excite a reaction.It manifested itself by a neo-idealistic movement, which found theprincipal cause of social progress in the tendency of humanity toattain supreme development and perfection. Then there were the"narodnikis" who considered the "proletariazation" of the Russianpeasant impossible and inopportune. There were also the variousgroups of Socialists who applauded the criticism that Bernstein madeon the Marxian orthodoxy. So several deviations were made from theoriginal theory; there were grave dissensions and interminable andbitter controversies. All this occupies a large part of "At theTurn," one of Veressayev's novels, in which these events are tracedwith almost stenographic exactitude.
The characters are, Tanya, a fanatic Marxist; her brother, Tokarev,whose soul is a field for spiritual battles; and Varenka, a villageschool-mistress. There are several eccentric characters around them,such as Serge, a young apostle of a somewhat Nietzschean egoism,Antsov and others. Tanya is none other than Natasha of "Astray,"with this great difference, however, that Tanya has found truthalready formulated for her, and does not have to grope about for it.Nevertheless, the essential characteristics of the two girls are thesame. They both have the same joyous self-denial, the same love oflife, the same courage in face of difficulties, and also the samefaith in a better future. Tanya has lived during the whole winterwith her comrades in a region devastated by the famine, and she hasspent there all that she possesses. At Toliminsk, where she arrivesafter a long walk, she speaks of her meagre living and tells amusingstories without suspecting her wonderful heroism.
But this young girl, full of the joy of life and ready for anysacrifices, is pitiless towards her theoretical adversaries and hasabsolutely no compassion for them. The passage in "Crime andPunishment," in which Dostoyevsky depicts one of his heroes in thefollowing manner: "He was young, he had abstract ideas, and was,consequently, cruel," perfectly fits Tanya. Veressayev tells thefollowing incident: "One day, when she was at the station, somepeasants rushed down from the platform. A railroad guard struck oneof the peasants. The peasant put his head down and ran off....Tanya, knitting her brows, said: 'That's good for him! Oh, thesepeasants!' And her eyes lighted up with scorn and hate...."
Just as Tanya brings Natasha to our mind, so does Varenka make usthink of Dr. Chekanhov; the same feeling of duty governs them both.But, while Chekanhov wanted to devote himself to the social problem,without ever succeeding in doing so, because he did not exactly seethe principles, Varenka was able to devote herself to her workwithout mental reservation. However, she refuses to, because she hasnot enough enthusiasm for this sort of research. Her understanding,which is deeper and broader than Tanya's, sees the error, thenarrowness of her doctrine; she cannot admit it, and, fired by adesire to devote herself body and soul to some useful work, shechooses the laborious profession of a school-mistress in thevillage. But this humble and unpleasant career does not satisfy her.Little by little ennui and anguish drive her to suicide.
Between Tokarev, Tanya's brother, and Varenka, the contrast iscomplete. While still a student, he had accepted, with all the ardorof youth, the idea of duty, and he desired to give himself up to thecause of justice and truth; but, having encountered many obstacles,he felt, when he had reached his thirtieth year, that the sacredfire was going out.
He now dreamed only of his personal happiness, and of poor theoriesthat justified this egoism. An assured material existence, comfort,a happy domestic life, work without risks, without sacrifices, butuseful enough in appearance to satisfy the conscience, attracted himirresistibly. He then went to work to tear out his former ideas,which had taken a pretty firm root. Urged on by his conscience,which protested, he forced himself at times to resurrect hisyouthful enthusiasm; he thought a great deal about morals, aboutduty, and he read many books treating this subject; he says: "Ifeel that something extremely necessary has left me. My feelingsabout humanity have disappeared and nothing can replace them. I reada great deal now, and I am directing my thoughts towards ethics. Itry to give morality a solid basis and I try to make clearer tomyself the various categories of duty.... And I blush to pronouncethe word, 'Duty.'"
Nevertheless, Tokarev tries, at times, to justify his inclinationstowards peaceable bourgeois prosperity to the struggling youth whosurround his sister Tanya. These cruel young people, however, answerhim only with sarcastic remarks, and caustic arguments, and do nothesitate to express their doubts as to the sincerity of hisopinions. To his conscience, they are like a living reproach fromthe past. Once he also was intolerant towards others as these peopleare towards him to-day. And that is why he suffers under theircondemnation of him. He defends himself weakly, and after one of hisoratorical tilts, he falls into such spiritual depression, that healmost thinks of suicide.
These, then, are the three main characters of Veressayev's novel. Inthe background we have the secondary characters. We have the proudproprietor and his wife, both of them liberals; we have thepedagogue Osmerkov, who does not like talented people because theybother everybody; and then there are the respectable inhabitants ofGniezdelovka, Serge's father and mother, who are entirely absorbedwith their household and with cards.
* * * * *
"The Comrades" is a variation on this theme: old school friends, whoformerly had been wrapped up in a great ideal, are now living a lifeof shabby prosperity, and they feel that they have deteriorated,although they do not dare to confess it to each other.
And Veressayev profits by this to generalize on the causes of thisfatal fall after the unselfish enthusiasms of youth. He sees themespecially in a mysterious force: "The Invisible," already studiedby Maeterlinck, Ibsen, Tchekoff, and especially by de Maupassant;and he sees them in the unhappy conditions of Russian history, whichcreated a social and political organization favorable only to thosewho crawl along and not to those who plan.
* * * * *
Let us now analyze the stories in which Veressayev describes thelife of the people.
The story of "The Steppe" is as follows: One beautiful autumnevening two men meet on the steppe. One of them, the forger Nikita,is returning to his native land; he is wounded in the leg and it ishard for him to walk. He is looking for work. The other is aprofessional beggar.
The beggar, who is never hungry because he has no scruples, offersNikita something to eat. After resting a short while, the travelerscontinue on their way. In
the first village that they come to, thepilgrim beggar makes a speech to the inhabitants and sells themcertain "sacred properties" which he keeps in his bag. Afterpocketing gifts of money and various other things, the false pilgrimpursues his way, still accompanied by Nikita. On the road once more,he offers to share with his comrade the fruits of his "work," butthe latter refuses.
"What a fool!" cries the beggar, and bursts out laughing. ButNikita, indignant, gives him a heavy blow and leaves him for good.
"For a Home" and "In Haste" gave Veressayev an opportunity to noteone of the characteristic traits of the ambitious villagers: theirstrong desire to preserve their homes and to propagate the race.
In the first of these stories, two old people, Athanasius and hiswife, want to marry their daughter Dunka, but the "mir,"--theassembly of peasants,--egotistical and inflexible towards people whoare growing weak, oppose them. "We have not enough land for our ownchildren," is the answer of the "mir." Dunka remains unmarried, anddies at an early age. Her mother soon follows her. Old Athanasiuslives alone in his freezing "isba," which is in a state of ruin,while the neighboring isbas, solid and austere, "spitefully watchhim die."
In the last story, we have a widower who is the father of fivechildren, and is therefore looking everywhere for a woman with somebodily defect, because he knows that other women will not want tohave anything to do with him.
It is the same wish to preserve his home that makes a peasant go tothe city to earn his living while he leaves his family in thecountry to take care of the house.
* * * * *
The peasant is, besides, entirely engrossed with the difficulties ofexistence. Necessity often urges him to desperate acts.... Some, whoare almost starving, ingratiate themselves with the raftsmen. Theyforce wages down by asking only 5 copecks (5 cents) a day.... Ifthey are contented with this absurd pay, it is because they avoidseeing how their little children are suffering at home. "It's hardliving at present; there is not enough space; ground is scarce andthere are too many people." "Men haven't room enough," says asad-looking man with prominent cheek-bones. "But," he goes on, "theytell me that sickness has struck our village, and that the men arelosing blood! Is that true?" "Yes, it's true!" "So much the better!That will clean out the people; it will be easier to live then," heconcludes, thoughtfully. (From "In the Cold Spell.")
In almost all the work of Veressayev a voice proclaims that theRussian peasant is near his end; that he is not useful to any one.The poverty of the villages is painted in the most sombre colors.The people are unanimous in believing that the struggle for life hasbecome terrible. "On what will you live?" one asks the other. "Theearth does not nourish us. The holdings are small; in summer, onemust cultivate, and in winter the cottages have to be closed whilewe look for work or charity. What is there to eat? Hay! Let us thankGod that the cattle have enough of that. Oats? We have to give fourhectoliters and two measures of our oats to the common granary....And taxes and clothes? coal-oil, matches, tea, sugar? Tell me, howcan one live?"
The unfortunates even go so far as to bless war and epidemics."Everything went better then. Men lived peacefully in the fear ofGod, the Lord took care of every one. War, smallpox, famine came andcleaned out the populace; those that remained, after having got thecoffins ready, lived easier. God pitied us. Now there is no morewar; He leaves us to our own poor devices."
Speeches like this abound in the works of Veressayev. A dullsadness, bordering on despair, breathes forth from the pages. Itseems, at times, as if the Russian peasant could never awake fromhis torpor, because the author represents him as full of infiniteegoism, without any spirit of solidarity, sacrificing everything forlove of his sorry little house and his morsel of ground, which isinsufficient to nourish him. But we must remember that the Marxianpoint of view, which the author takes, explains in part the horrorof such pictures.
According to Veressayev the poor peasants can better their positiononly by getting rid of their land, in order to become freeproletarians. But if the peasant class is unfortunate, it is so, forthe most part, because it is the most exploited and the mostoppressed. It is not, then, the getting rid of their land that willbring the peasants salvation; on the contrary, they must fight forit against their oppressors. The peasants are beginning tounderstand the necessity of this struggle, and their late uprisingsin several provinces have shown that they lack neither solidaritynor organization.
In the story called, "The End of Andrey Ivanovich," which is aboutthe working class of Russia, we see the transformation of a peasantinto a "city man." In his new surroundings, it is true, thewine-shop plays an important role, but schools are organized therewhich inspire a taste for reading, and "thought" gradually awakens.
Andrey has not yet rid himself of his rustic unsociability; however,he is beginning to become civilized, and is receiving city culture.He tries to free himself from his misery, from his degradation. Hebeats his wife when he is drunk, but, at the same time, he getsangry at a friend when he beats his mistress.... According to hisown confession he reads many useless things, nevertheless he canbecome interested in a serious work. If he drinks to excess, it isto "drive away the thoughts" that torment him. He wants to analyzeevery question and find out what is at the bottom of it. He is thespiritual brother of Natasha, Chekanhov, and Tanya.
The sequel to this story is "The Straight Road." This time we aretransported into the world of factory workers, a world lamentablefor its misery, despair, and crime. Andrey Ivanovich's wife,Alexandra Mikhailovna, being without resources after the death ofher husband, with a little daughter in arms, enters a book-bindingestablishment, belonging to a man named Semidalov. But the foreman,a vicious and evil-minded man, reigns as despot. It is he who givesout the work. The young girls who listen to his advances are sureof being shown partiality; the others are badly treated. AsAlexandra wants to live honestly, her work in the shop is made veryhard. Her best friend, Tanya, who inadvertently spilled oil on somepaper and could not pay for the damage, had to give herself to theforeman. Finally Tanya despairs and ends by drowning herself.Alexandra is saved, thanks to a "loveless" marriage with thelocksmith, Lestmann. She accepts this union so that she will nothave to starve and can remain "straight." Thus, the "straight road"which Alexandra wanted to follow has forced her finally to sellherself, to marry a man whom she does not love.
* * * * *
Each page of Veressayev's work exists merely to throw light on thisor that social question, considered from a well defined point ofview. The secret of his success rests mostly in the frank, sinceremanner in which he has approached certain problems. At the sametime, all of his work breathes forth a deep and tender love forthose who suffer. In reality, there is not a single book byVeressayev which might not be a confession; all that he writes hehas already experienced himself, and his work vibrates with adelicate and personal emotion. It is only necessary to read "TheMemoirs of a Physician," which is almost an autobiography, in orderto perceive the moral relationship that exists between Veressayevand the heroes of his stories.
This book is the confession of a physician from the time of hisearly studies. The young man is astonished at the number of maladiesthat exist and by the unbelievable variety of keen suffering thatnature inflicts upon the human species, man. Soon he is obliged tomake a discovery that stuns him: that medicine is incapable ofcuring many evils. It only gropes about, trying thousands ofremedies before it arrives at a sure result. The scruples andanxiety of the student increase, especially after an autopsy on awoman in the amphitheatre, when the professor announces that thewoman has succumbed because the surgeon, who was operating, swooned,and ends by saying: "In such difficult operations the very bestsurgeons are not safe from accidents of this kind." After this, theprofessor shook hands with his colleague and every one left. At thattime, doubt entered the mind of the young man. And so, within aperiod of ten years, he passes from extreme optimism to the samedegree of pessimism.
We follow him in the hospi
tals, where he is scandalized by thebrutality of the teaching, which makes use of the unwilling bodiesof sick people. "Not being able to pay for their treatment inmoney, they have to pay with their bodies." Finally, the studentbecomes a doctor himself. Full of faith and knowledge, he startspractice in a small market-town of central Russia. But his work sooncools him down; in the clinic he had studied mostly exceptionalcases; now he is disconcerted by simple and every-day sicknesses.His ignorance leads to the following tragic case:
One day, a poor and widowed washerwoman brings him her sick child,whom she does not want to take to the hospital because her twooldest children died there. The child is a weak boy of eight yearswho has caught scarlet-fever. At first, the inside of the throatbegins to swell, and, to prevent an abscess, the doctor ordersrubbings with a mercurial ointment. The next day, he finds the boyall aquiver and covered with pimples. "There is no mistake," hesays, "the rubbing has spread the infection into the neighboringorgans and a general poisoning of the blood has taken place. Thelittle boy is lost.... All that day and night I wandered about thestreets. I could think of nothing, and I felt crushed by the horrorof the thing. Only at times this thought came into my mind: 'I havekilled a human being!'" The child lived ten days more. The nightbefore his death Veressayev comes to see him. The poor mother issobbing in a corner of the miserable room. She pulls herselftogether, however, and taking three rubles out of her pocket, offersthem to the trembling doctor, who refuses them. Then this womanfalls down on her knees and thanks him for having pitied her son."I'll leave everything, I'll give up everything," sobs thedoctor.... "I have decided to leave for St. Petersburg to-morrow inorder to study some more even if I die of hunger!"
Once the resolution was made to pursue his studies in a morepractical manner, he becomes the house-surgeon of a hospital. Buteven there a mass of problems disturb him. He sees how dangerous thesimplest operations are; he is frightened by the unrestraint of thedoctors, who try new methods on the sick, methods the effects ofwhich are not known, methods that result in the patient's beinginoculated with more sickness. Medicine cannot progress withoutdirect experimentation, and experience is gained at the expense ofthe more unfortunate. Nevertheless, Veressayev does not argueagainst this way of working; he shows the facts, and leaves it tothe reader to decide. On the other hand, he does not hide his fearof the common ignorance of all doctors. Every individual differsfrom his neighbor. How distinguish their idiosyncrasies? Once thescope of a sickness is known, what remedy shall be used? Some saythis, others, that. How shall one choose? Veressayev has felt all ofthis; he has tried to harden himself against the unreasonableingratitude of some, the scepticism of others; he realizes thatpatience, resignation, and heroism are needed in order to struggleagainst and support the mortifications in the career of a doctor.How much easier it would be not to consider medicine as infallible;to study it as an art rather than as a science. But people prefer tobelieve that doctors know everything. They do not want to see thereality, and this is the reason why sad, and at times tragicconflicts arise between patient and physician.
Finally, what could the most perfect medical science and thecleverest doctor do against the enormous mass of sickness andsuffering that are the inevitable result of the social evils, ofwhich poverty is the most conspicuous? How can one tell a man thathis trade is running him down and that he does not get enoughnourishment? How can one order a man to eat better food, to get moresleep and more pure air? First, and most important, is the necessityof curing the social organism.
It is easy to see why this book made many enemies for its author.There is too much frankness and conscientiousness in these studiesnot to anger those who have their greatest interest in concealingthe truth! The upright man who sees primarily in medicine a means torelieve human suffering, cannot realize without sadness the manyabuses hidden under the name of this science.
* * * * *
"In the War," recently published, is the story of Veressayev'scampaign in Manchuria. In this work, the author has paintedvividly the peregrinations of his moving hospital, and also theterrible sufferings of the Russian army. By the thousands, thestarved children of the campaign, the Russian foot-soldiers,stoics and fatalists, sacrificing their lives for a strange andincomprehensible cause, pass before the eyes of the reader. And inthe background, detaching themselves from the crowd, in their goldand silver embroidered uniforms, are "the heroes of the war, thesevultures of the advance and rear-guard, who enrich themselves atthe expense of the unfortunate soldiers." A number of these greatchiefs, whose infamy was evident at the end of the war, since theyhad shown themselves incapable of dealing with the foreign enemy,had distinguished themselves by the ferocity they exhibited inquelling internal troubles. As to the military doctors, thegreater number of them went into the campaign only for commercialgain. Among the nurses who accompanied them, aside from those whowere real heroines of goodness and devotion, there were many whoprostituted themselves shamefully.
Corruption, carelessness, disorder, and cowardice are shown on everypage of this story, as well as the terrible suffering endured by thewounded in the hospitals. The wounded were the real martyrs of thisfrightful campaign.
* * * * *
Veressayev, like all of his heroes and heroines, wants to help thepeople, and for this reason he gets in touch with the revolutionistswho consecrate their work to political and social regeneration,under the various titles, "narodnikis," Marxists, Socialists,idealists and so on.... Which of these does he prefer? We do notknow. We find the influence of Marx in his ideas, but we cannotaffirm that he is an absolute Marxian. It seems as if Veressayev,troubled by the innumerable divergencies of opinion, asks himselfsecretly: "Will this war lead to the unity of opinion and program,so necessary for victory, or by its quarrels will it only retard theharmony so much sought after?"
It is not discussion that will finally lead to unity, but ratherlife itself, with all its realities.
It would be most interesting to read a sequel to the three famousnovels of Veressayev--"Astray," "The Contagion," and "At theTurning"--in which he would give us the psychology of his formerheroes under present conditions. To-day, the people are not"astray"; the field is big enough for every one to find the placethat best suits his ideas, tastes, and temperament. Dr. Chekanhov,if he were living now, instead of being maltreated by the people,would certainly be their well beloved champion, and perhapsrepresent them in the Duma; the timid Tokarev, in spite of hisaversion to the ideas of the revolutionists, could find a place inthe liberal party of the Reforming Democrats, or at least among theOctobrists; the unfortunate Varenka would not be worn out by herwork as school-mistress, for she would be supported by the peasants.The peasants themselves are not the miserable and resigned creaturesof Veressayev's earlier stories. Certainly, liberty is not yet alegal thing in Russia, and the Duma is still an unstableinstitution, but the end of absolutism is near, for a great eventhas taken place in the empire of the Tsar, namely, this awakening ofthe feeling of human dignity, and the spirit of revolt among thelower strata of the Russian people, which in the past, by itsunconsciousness, formed the granite pedestal of autocracy. Thestruggle is terrible, but confidence in final victory redoubles theenergy of the strugglers. A certain Russian was right when he said:"Formerly, life was formidable, but now it is both formidable andgay."
In reading the works of Veressayev, Tchekoff, and other painters ofmodern Russian society, it is easy to note that not one of themanticipated this sudden change of scenery on the Russian politicalstage, a change which, however, was being prepared in the souls ofthe peasants. But let us not reproach them! Russia will alwaysremain an enigma.
There is a very old story about the son of the peasant IlyaMurometz. After remaining lazily resting in his "isba" for thirtyyears, he suddenly arose, and began to walk with such fury that theearth trembled. How could these writers conceive the time when thislazy giant would make up his mind to walk? It is enough to have theassurance that now, n
o matter what happens, since he _has_ arisen,he will not lie down again.
