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Akunin and the Myth of Imperial Russia: Boris Akunin’s critique of post-Soviet Imperial Russian Nostalgia in The Turkish Gambit

 

Another knot in a string of conflicts between the West and the Russian Empire, the Russo-Turkish War went beyond an isolated conflict between two independent belligerents, it defined the social and political issues of the day. Though ultimately a Russian victory, it nonetheless stifled the “pan-Slavic” ambitions to obtain Constantinople and unite all the Slavs under one banner.  This is an issue that was not resolved by the Russo-Turkish war, and is still a relevant issue today for several reasons.  Beyond the repercussions of the continued tepid relationship between Russia and the West, this epoch is an instrumental rallying point for post-Soviet nostalgics that pine for the late Imperial era.  Furthermore, this war led to the rise in newspaper journalism and contributed to a vessel that steered the climate of social change in Russia while additionally stirring up emotions of nationalism and fear, traces of which can still be found throughout Russia and Europe.   The purpose of this paper is twofold, firstly, to examine how Akunin’s self-created newspaper excerpts in The Turkish Gambit give substance to the complex “Eastern Question”, in conjunction with the rise and opposition to “pan-Slavism”, as a conduit for understanding the vigorous political and social changes of the late 19th century, and secondly, how Akunin uses these excerpts juxtaposed with characters from the entirety of the novel to present his interpretation of the late Imperial Russia epoch which challenges the post-Soviet nostalgia for the “golden age” of Imperial Russia.

Unlike[ZS2]  previous wars fought by Russia, the information available was widespread and disseminated using new technology and a new profession, the war correspondent.  The Continent-wide implications of this conflict were brought to the forefront of the public’s attention by these individuals whose personalities often dictated public opinion.  Through the eyes of these reporters, journalists established themselves as the unofficial voices of the conflict, gaining authority by distancing themselves from the government, and bringing the war from the battlefield into the homes of the citizens.  Louise McReyonlds’ article, Imperial Russia’s Newspaper Reporters: Profile of a Society in Transition, 1865-1914, claims that “This authority derived in large part from the newspapers’ ability to give readers a firsthand view, in this case by transporting them to Cheniaev’s camp (pg. 279).”  Akunin embraces the eye witness accounts in his novel by using short excerpts at the beginning of each chapter ranging from a description of a visit by Tsar Alexander II to a field hospital to a Parliamentary vote in London.  Without a Russian reporter to give voice to Russian newspapers in the plot, Akunin uses these excerpts [ZS3] to provide an insight into the Russian viewpoint.  It is important to note that these excerpts are independent of the paragraphs themselves and contain not only the eye witness accounts for the readers, but more importantly allow Akunin to use journalism to establish social and political issues relevant to the relationship between Europe and Russia. 

These seemingly [ZS4] nondescript excerpts give Akunin the platform from which he can engage the reader with pertinent material that occurs outside the world of the characters in the novel.  One affair of paramount significance for the entire continent is “pan-Slavism” vs. Western efforts to contain “Russia’s Destiny”.  In essence, the Russo-Turkish war can be seen as a proxy war between Russia and the West over the issue of Russian influence in Southern Europe.  Fyodor Dostoevsky defines this struggle in his Writer’s Diary in June, 1876 “Again a tussle with Europe.  Again the endless Eastern Question in the news, and again in Europe they are looking mistrustfully at Russia…Yet why should we go running to seek Europe’s trust?...Can she ever trust us and stop seeing us as her enemy? (pg. 181).”  Dostoevsky presents the idea that pan Slavism is a necessity, and Russia’s “first step had to consist in the uniting of all of Slavdom, so to say, under the wing of Russia.  And this process of unification is not for seizing territory, nor for committing violence, nor for crushing the other Slavic personalities beneath the Russian colossus; it is for restoring them and placing them in their proper relationship to Europe and to humanity… (pg. 186).”  With the definition of “pan-Slavism” and the conflict between the West and Russia established, it is time to specifically examine Akunin’s use of journalism to portray them.  The aforementioned excerpts are taken from newspapers representing the West: Die Wiener Zeitung (Vienna), The Times (London) and La Revue Parisienne (Paris) and Russia: The Russian Invalid, The Government Herald, The Russian Gazette and The St. Petersburg Gazette.  These excerpts are an excellent use of journalism within a fictional entity to establish the context and background of a complex socio-political situation without having to directly state it in the story.  It is important to remember that Akunin is using these not just for context, but further to represent the ideological differences represented by the diverse geographical areas covered in these papers.  The overwhelmingly majority of the excerpts from the West range from at the very least hesitantly neutral in tone, all the way to outright condemnation of the Russian action and proposing interventionist measures to contain it.  In general, the Russian papers strongly support the war and the Tsar, and more so the implications that this war will have in the broader picture of pan-Slavic unification.  For evidence, the following are some examples of Akunin’s excerpts and their socio-political messages.  The Russian need to intervene on behalf of their Slavic brethren is shown on page 14 “Following the conclusion of an armistice…many patriots of the Russian land who served as volunteers under the leadership of the courageous General Chernyaev, have hearkened to the call of the Tsar-Liberator and at the risk of their lives…in order to be reunited with the Orthodox Christian forces and crown their sacred feat of arms with the long awaited victory (pg. 14).”  This undoubtedly parallels the Russian position earlier revealed by Dostoevsky’s texts.  The Western powers opposition to pan Slavism is defined by the article prefacing chapter thirteen from the Die Wiener Zeitung paper out of Vienna “The balance of power between the combatants in the final stage of the war is such that we can no longer disregard the danger of pan-Slavic expansion that threatens the southern borders of the dual Monarchy…This is no joke, gentlemen.  One would have to be an ostrich with one’s head buried in the sand not to see the danger hanging over the whole of enlightened Europe.  To procrastinate is to perish (pg. 184).”  And later when posturing against pan-Slavism fails and action is required, the article for the London Times expresses Western (British) resolve “At yesterday’s meeting of the cabinet, Lord Beaconsfield proposed a demand for six million pounds of emergency credits from parliament in order to equip an expeditionary force which could be sent to the Balkans in the near future in order to protect the interest of the empire against the inordinate pretensions of Tsar Alexander (pg. 150).” 

Of course[ZS5] , the excerpts are not the limit to which Akunin shows this conflict.  After the (wrongful) accusation of spying is leveled against the British reporter McLaughlin in absentia, the conversation between Fandorin and the Emperor further illustrates the tenuous and hostile nature of the relationship between Russia and the West.  “And his article last year…earned McLaughlin the reputation of a friend of the Slavs and genuine supporter of Russia.  Whereas in fact all this time he must have been acting on secret instructions from his government, which is well known for its undisguised hostility to our Eastern policy (pg. 158).”  This time Akunin uses a journalist to again reveal the hostility between the two regions.  From Akunin’s use of these excerpts and characters, he exposes the extent of the social and political conflict that runs much deeper than simple geo-politics.  This is not about borders, but about national identity and national destiny.

            Having[ZS6]  firmly verified the significance of the excerpts and their links to pan-Slavism and Western European thought in context of the “Eastern Question”, it must be asked, why does Akunin, instead of finding relevant headlines from 19th century newspapers and print, write his own prefacing excerpts?  A practical answer might be that it is simply easier to write your own variations which can emphasize views from specific areas to produce a better understanding of the 19th century political and social situation.  However that does not seem to fit with Akunin’s novelistic pattern.  For him, everything written is important, not in the least the seemingly innocuous contextual excerpts.  These excerpts go beyond simply establishing the context of the novel, and rather give voice to Akunin’s own, divergent, perception of Russian history.  Akunin’s projections of history, particularly his historical based works like the “Fandorin Novels”, have received a litany of responses, as seen in Elena V. Baraban’s article A Country Resembling Russia:  The Use of History in Boris Akunin’s Detective Novels: “While some praise Akunin for his treatment of Russian history, others accuse him of purposefully distorting the country’s past.  Of those who argue that Akunin’s texts are historically inaccurate, some accuse Akunin of xenophobia (Arbitman 218); others charge him with Russophobia and with creating caricature of Russian imperial history; and another critic argues that Akunin articulates ‘various opinions on the Russian past without giving clear priority to any one view’ (Klioutchkine 7).”  When reflecting on the aforementioned excerpts it is easy to see each of these different critiques; certainly the overbearing patriotism and near mythological portrayals of Tsar Alexander II found in the Russian papers are comical, whereas the acrid denunciations of Russia by the Western papers are categorically paranoid.  So what is their true purpose? 

            For Akunin, more so than perhaps any other contemporary Russian writer, the connections with the past is paramount for understanding Russia’s national identity.  Unlike many who, in their post-Soviet nostalgia for the late 19th and early 20th century pre-revolutionary Russian Empire, look at this historical epoch as the “golden age” of Russian civilization, Akunin uses his novels to challenge this idea, using literature to create a historical context from which readers can see the disparity between the Russian and European public domain, specifically newspapers, and the realities of individual character’s lives and their experiences.  From the previously cited article by Elena Baraban, “Through allusions and pastiche, Akunin highlights darker pages in the Russian social history of the nineteenth-century and creates a contrast between these facts and the post-Soviet glorification of Imperial Russia.”  Even a cursory browse of The Turkish Gambit cannot fail to call attention to the relationship between Akunin’s public history and the fictional realities of his characters. 

            However, in challenging the narrative espousing the glory of pre-revolutionary Russia, Akunin does not limit his critique to the Romanov autocracy, rather, his critiques encompass all social and political life from the late 19th century.  One of the pivotal figures who is both the target and exposer of Akunin’s historical Imperial Russia is the character Varvera Suvorova.  Varya, is Akunin’s embodiment of the late 19th century progressive youth.  A little over one decade removed from the reforms of Tsar Alexander II, the social climate in the novel is still adjusting to this change.  Like many young idealist of this period, she yearns for the principles of the Western left, and is representative of that social movement that is described by Dostoevsky in his June, 1876 article My Paradox which states “That the majority of Russians have really proclaimed themselves liberals in Europe is true, and it is even a strange fact…Why is it that in the course of our century, virtually nine-tenths of the Russians who acquired their culture in Europe always associated themselves with the stratum of Europeans who were liberal, with the left-i.e., always with the side that rejected its own culture? (pg. 184).”  Varya, as a representative of this movement, is rarely seen in a flattering light.  She is often the subject of Akunin’s subtle mockery, such as originally having an awkward “modern” relationship with her fiancé Pyotr devoid of any romanticism, yet later being flattered at the romantic treatises of the military officers, or setting off on a journey to meet with her fiancé completely unprepared, doing it to prove that she is capable of it, yet needing a timely rescue by Fandorin to escape a unsavory predicament, these being but a few of her contradictions.  For Akunin, this is a chance to contest the view of the loftiness with which some hold the progressive movement, showing it, though having positive qualities, as being fundamentally flawed.  Perhaps no scene exemplifies this better than a conversation between Varya and Fandorin on the 19th century political and social scene, where her idealistic views are easily deflected by the esteemed titular councilor in a brief verbal spar.  “’But the times we live in are so oppressive and of tyrannical arrogance and stupidity.’…”My dear Varvara Andreevna, I am tired of listening to whining about ‘these difficult times’ of ours.  In Tsar Nicholas’s times, which were far more oppressive than these, your ‘honest people’ marched in tight order and constantly sang the praises of their happy life.  If it is now possible to complain about arrogance and tyranny, it means that times have begun getting better, not worse.’”  While some might suggest that through Fandorin’s retort, Akunin’s critics are correct in proposing that he holds some level of veneration for Imperial Russia, later in the novel this assertion is proven incorrect. 

While perhaps naive to the ways of the world, Varya is a most astute observer of other people.  Akunin uses this perceptiveness to expose the popular view of Tsar Alexander II as the preeminent liberal ruler of 19th century Russia, specifically due to his reforms and emancipation of the serfs.  However, the halo that for many Imperial Russian nostalgics is firmly fixed over Alexander and reigns supreme over his rule is quickly removed by Akunin.  The excerpt which precedes chapter eight from The Government Hearld (St. Petersburg) boldly proclaims that “”Defying excruciating bouts of epidemic gastritis and bloody diarrhea, our Sovereign has spent the last few days visit hospitals…His Imperial Majesty’s heartfelt sympathy for their suffering is so sincere that these scenes bring an involuntary glow to the heart.  The soldiers throw themselves in their gifts with all the naïve joy little children, and the author of these lines has on several occasions witnessed the Emperor’s wonderful blue eyes moistened with a tear.  It is impossible to observe such occasions without experiencing a peculiarly tender reverence.” This is a wonderfully emotional scene instilling the vision of the sympathetic Emperor who is adored by and conversely adores his soldiers.  Yet this image of the charismatic leader is not to last. Varya, in an audience with the Tsar, makes many unflattering observations about the Tsar “The first observation:  Why, he was really old!... The second observation:  He didn’t look as kind as the newspapers said he was.  He seemed indifferent and weary.  He’d seen everything in the world there was to see; nothing could surprise him, nothing could make him feel particularly happy…The third observation, and the most interesting:  Despite his age and imperial lineage, he was not indifferent to the female sex.”  The second of these observations is the most pertinent.  Akunin juxtaposes Varya’s views of Alexander with the excerpts as an energetic and emotional leader, where in the latter it is clear that Alexander is not the man who the newspapers make him out to be.  In Varya, Akunin has the perfect vessel in which to dismantle the idealistic views that are typified by the patriotic excerpts.  This is clearly a moment of Akunin’s version of historical clarity in defiance of post-Soviet nostalgia. 

Akunin’s choice of setting most of the Fandorin Novels in the late 19th century is not by chance, he is directly responding to this post-Soviet glorification of the past, as extrapolated on by Baraban “Akunin’s treatment of Russian History is a critique of the idealization (or condemnation) of any particular period in history.  The multiplicity of historical truths and the open-ended (even individualized) nature of historiography asserted by Akunin’s novels acquire pertinence as a cultural and social commentary in post-Soviet Russia.  They counter attempts at (re-)establishing either Soviet myths or myths about a prosperous pre-revolutionary Russia.”’ Using the all-important excerpts which symbolize much that is currently held as a truthful view of late Imperial Russia by nostaglics in tandem with characters like Varya, Akunin crafts an independent history for Russia through literature, where he is able to redefine what the “golden age” of Russia really was, at least for himself.  These are Akunin’s attempts to destroy the mythological status of Imperial Russia and bring his own reality to this epoch.  Through literature, Akunin discards the subjective notions of two groups which are crucial for understanding the late Russian Empire.  This desire to shed new light on this complex epoch is conclusively documented in Baraban’s article that contends that “Akunin’s nineteenth century is not a “golden age” that can be emulated by contemporary statesman.  It is a time of misery, corruption, and social inequality…Akunin says that he is far from idealizing the Silver Age.  According to Akunin, the nineteenth century was far from rosy, as it is now often presented; “the charming time of Fandorin” was also marked by appalling poverty, ignorance, and infringement on the rights of the majority of Russians.  Many details in Akunin’s novels illustrate this position.’” 

            Boris Akunin’s The Turkish Gambit is so much more than simply a good detective read.  Within its pages are both a detailed examination of late 19th century geo-politics and a contemporary analysis of Imperial Russia’s “Golden Age.”  With his use of short newspaper excerpts, Akunin is able to create an entire world consisting of all the intrigue and politics of the late 19th century set against the narrative of individuals who reside there.  His use of public history juxtaposed with characters like Varvara Suvorova illustrate his own history of Russia, one that does not conform to the lionization of the late Imperial epoch done by many. 

 

Bibliography:

1.  Imperial Russia’s Newspaper Reporters: Profile of a Society in Transition, 1865-1914, Louise Mcreynolds, SEEr, VOL. 68, No.2, April 1990

2. The Turkish Gambit, Boris Akunin, c. translated by Andrew Bromfield Random House, Inc. copyright 2005

3. A Writer’s Diary, Fyoder Dostoevsky, translated by Kenneth Lantz, Northwestern University Press, copyright 2009.