Avvakum
1 media/Avvakum_thumb.jpg 2021-10-15T22:49:50+00:00 Abigail Wittenberg 128bc08460f70c88a9d5a6b9e30a0942fc682897 1 1 Icon of Archpriest Avvakum plain 2021-10-15T22:49:50+00:00 Abigail Wittenberg 128bc08460f70c88a9d5a6b9e30a0942fc682897This page is referenced by:
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Religion in Russian Prison Literature
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Xenya Currie
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Russian prison literature, or works written in the Russian language which pertain to experiences of incarceration, spans a long history, ranging from the seventeenth century to the present. Works in this literary tradition can be autobiographical, memoiristic, fictional, nonfictional; they can take the form of prose and poetry, novel and short story. Despite the great range of time over and circumstances in which works in this tradition have been written, various nodes of specificity emerge as continuous throughout many Russian prison texts. One such recurrent node is religion and appeals to religious belief, practice, and imagery. This is not to suggest that such appeals to religion appear in every single work in the tradition of Russian prison literature; rather, religion emerges as a relevant theme in various works throughout the tradition. This encyclopedia entry seeks to chronologically and non-comprehensively survey some such manifestations of religiosity in Russian prison literature.
17th Century
One of the first works in the tradition of Russian prison literature was Archpriest Avvakum’s The Life Written by Himself, written from approximately 1669 to the mid-1670s. Avvakum Petrov (1620/1–1682) was an Old Believer, an Eastern Orthodox Christian who opposed the reforms to the Russian Orthodox Church introduced by Patriarch Nikon in the seventeenth century. In the Life, Avvakum recounts his experiences of imprisonment, exile, and persecution for his religious dissent. Avvakum’s Life establishes a model of the Russian prison text, one identifiable aspect of which is religiosity, that will be followed by later writers. Avvakum’s engagements with religion are immediate—he begins the Life with an appeal to the “[a]ll-holy Trinity” (Avvakum 37)—and persistent: he frequently references Biblical passages, recounts praying for divine aid, and retells experiences of God working miracles through him. That Avvakum frames his text as an hagiographic saint’s life reveals his self-presentation as a saint and martyr. Key for Avvakum is the idea that “a true Christian [...] not only [...] live[s] in tribulations even unto death for the sake of the Truth, but passing away in ignorance of the world, [...] liveth forever in wisdom” (Avvakum 38). In appealing to this religious conviction and the ideal of Christ’s kenosis, Avvakum imbues his incarceration with religious significance, suggesting that despite his external imprisonment and suffering, he is in fact an internally liberated participant in divine wisdom.
19th Century
Fyodor Dostoevsky’s (1821–1881) 1862 Notes from a Dead House “was the first published account of life in the Siberian hard-labor camps” (Pevear xii). Dostoevsky’s semi-autobiographical account of his eight years of hard labor and military service after his arrest serves to humanize those who are incarcerated, a project imbued for him with religious significance. Although Notes from a Dead House’s fictional narrator Goryanchikov suggests throughout the text that his fellow prisoners are transparently legible to him, Dostoevsky’s spiritual transformation recounted in the appendix reverses this perception. A transcendent childhood encounter with the peasant Marey, who “could not have given [Dostoevsky] a look shining with more radiant love” (303) when comforting the frightened young Dostoevsky by praying that “Christ be with [him]” (302) and doing the sign of the cross, facilitates Dostoevsky’s recognition of the depth of Marey’s inner experience, regardless of his “dirt-covered” physical appearance (303). This revelation transforms Dostoevsky’s perception of those with whom he was imprisoned, such that “all the hatred and anger in [his] heart [...] vanished completely” (303). The emergent project, of affording both Dostoevsky’s fellow prisoners and Marey “respect for [their] human dignity,” is, for Dostoevsky, a deeply religiously-motivated type of vision (111).
20th Century
After the Ball entry
Vera Figner entry
Akhmatova entry
Solzhenitsyn entry -
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Religious Interpretations of Incarceration from Russia to Italy
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Though hailing from different countries and living nearly a century apart, Italian philosopher and poet Tommaso Campanella and Russian archpriest Avvakum Petrovich are united by the shared experiences of persecution as Christian heretics and extensive time spent incarcerated. In Campanella’s “On Himself”, and Avvakum’s The Life of Archpriest Avvakum, both men invoke themes of the physical world and nature, as well as suffering and what meanings it holds in a religious context. Throughout the texts, Campanella and Avvakum provide the reader with often contrasting, but sometimes similar views on these topics. While Campanella tends to rebuke the physical world and all it consists of, Avvakum is more focused on worldly matters, and sees constant signs from God on Earth.
Campanella and Avvakum perceive the physical world quite differently, with Campanella viewing the earthly realm with contempt, and Avvakum instead regarding nature as a wonderful thing, full of God’s gifts to man. Campanella’s disdain for corporality is expressed though the language he uses to describe his worldly experiences, which he contrasts with more positive descriptions of Heaven. This is illustrated though his characterization of himself as “mad to the mortal eye of the lowly world” (Campanella, line 3). Describing the world as “lowly” refers to both the actual position of the Earth and Campanella’s attitude toward it; he places the world under heaven in terms of spatial positioning as well as importance. Furthermore, in depicting the world as judging him with only a “mortal eye,” Campanella suggests that people on Earth have a limited capability for understanding, only possessing the ability to make superficial judgements without grasping the depth of one’s being. This is in stark opposition to his anticipation of being perceived in the afterlife by “the divine intellect of the celestial pole.” (4) Here, “divine intellect” implies not just a surface understanding, but a sort of omniscience and complete comprehension that he can never experience while alive. Additionally, he later describes his worldly struggles as a “dubious war” (9), which implies that he has little confidence in the value of his time spent in the physical realm. Campanella clearly sees his time on Earth as fruitless, and is unable to find joy in materiality.
Avvakum, on the other hand, makes no secret of his appreciation for the natural world, which he believes to be full of God’s power. For example, listing all of God’s creations in a certain environment is a recurring motif in his autobiography. When Avvakum is sent to walk alone through the mountains as punishment for his heretical views on the remarriage of widows, despite his lamentable situation, he still notes the awe-inspiringly high cliffs and the “endless abundance” of birds and woodland creatures (Avvakum, 59). The bountiful natural diversity of his surroundings is juxtaposed against the fact that Avvakum is abandoned and destitute, having barely avoided drowning in the river before his banishment. Still, even in this state, Avvakum finds solace in seeing all God has created for him. Later, he describes the natural world as “done for man through Jesus Christ our Light, so that finding peace he might lift up his praise to God” (78), which truly sums up Avvakum’s feelings about nature. Even the simple hunting and eating of a deer is a reminder of God’s benevolent presence: when hungry, “[Avvakum] entreated God, and Christ gave [him] a Siberian stag, a huge beast” (76). Crops do not merely grow in Avvakum’s world, but rather they flourish “in the care of God” (78). As opposed to Campanella who sees the mortal world as separate from the realm of the holy, Avvakum makes no such distinction. Rather than deriding Earth as nothing more than a lowly place untouched by God where he must wait out his suffering before arriving in Heaven, he sees the work of God in even the direst places.
Both Campanella and Avvakum find value and purpose in suffering, evidenced in how they describe their experiences with incarceration. However, Campanella seems to only revel in his own suffering as he believes he will receive salvation at the end of it, and while Avvakum does sometimes feel this way as well, he also sees his suffering as a deserved punishment for his sins. In saying “with wings clipped on earth, I fly to heaven” (Campanella, line 5), Campanella argues that his suffering on earth will be meaningless once he arrives in heaven. Any type of pain he endures on Earth can do nothing to harm his immortal soul, and if anything it is proof that he has so thoroughly rejected worldly ways that people on Earth punish him for his beliefs. Because of this, he welcomes suffering, saying that “nothing is lighter than a welcome weight” (11). This implies that due to his devoutness and his repudiation of the physical, any suffering he endures on Earth can not actually harm him. Moreover, rather than dwelling on the reasons for his suffering, Campanella believes it is simply an inescapable part of life for someone with his beliefs. Initially, he describes himself as “freed and chained, accompanied and alone, screaming, quiet… [confusing] the fierce crowd” (1–2) indicating that his feelings of separation from the rest of society transcend any changes to his material conditions. Here, Campanella argues that it does not matter whether he is a free man or an incarcerated one, as he is just as alone in his beliefs in both situations. Additionally, because he continues to confuse in both silence and shouting, Campanella is completely powerless to make others understand him, regardless of how he presents his information. It seems that Campanella has accepted that for him, the physical world consists of only suffering, so he turns his full attention to heaven instead.
Avvakum’s views on his suffering are more convoluted; while he does believe his suffering is virtuous, he also views it as a consequence of his sinfulness. On the one hand, when imprisoned in the Bratskij fortress, Avvakum says of his decision to not ask his jailor for clemency that “the power of God did forefend it,” and that “it was ordained [he] endure” (Avvakum 61) the dungeon. This mandate that Avvakum suffer is not given in response to any sinful behavior, rather it is intended to fortify him as a Christian. Later, he again reiterates that “it is ordained that we must suffer, we must suffer for the sake of the Christian faith” (65). Avvakum experiences his suffering as something that is done in the service of Christ, and therefore something that distinguishes him as particularly pious. Moreover, the use of the word “ordained” emphasizes the religious dimension of this mandate to suffer, it is not merely a command from authority, it is a holy order from God himself. However, Avvakum also sometimes conceptualizes his suffering as a punishment for his sinful nature. When his family’s chicken is crushed and killed, it is “because of [their] sins” (68), and when he is beaten for his heretical views in Moscow, is it “because of [his] sins, they almost beat [him] to death” (50). In general, Avvakum is of the belief that he possesses an inherently “sinful soul” (64) that justifies his abhorrent treatment at the hands of the Nikonians. Interestingly, in both cases Avvakum seems to tend to make dispositional, as opposed to situational, attributions when faced with distress; he suffers either because he is innately holy or because he is innately sinful, not because of the political landscape of his country or the actions of his persecutors.
Through their differing views on the physical world and suffering, Campanella and Avvakum present two different understandings of incarceration. It seems that Campanella copes with his incarceration by choosing to deny its significance. While he believes that physical suffering is transient, he views the mental agony of being misunderstood and isolated in his beliefs as a lifelong struggle. In this sense, it is irrelevant to Campanella whether he is physically imprisoned, as he feels trapped either way. This is clear in his assertion that he confuses those around him while both “freed and chained” (Campanella, lines 1–2). For Campanella, incarceration is merely one consequence of holding non-mainstream religious beliefs. However, Avvakum constantly finds significance in his incarceration, and for him, it is from this experience that he validates the righteousness of his beliefs. In his view, “for whom God loveth he chasteneth” (Avvakum, 62), and in this sense, his physical suffering is evidence that God cares about his doings. He sees his incarceration as a gift given by God, rather than simply the logical outcome of holding heretical beliefs. Overall, Campanella and Avvakuum both perceive incarceration through a religious lens, but Campanella concludes that imprisonment is an unfortunate consequence of his beliefs caused by those around him, while Avvakum sees his imprisonment as the work of God.
In “On Himself” and The Life of Archpriest Avvakum, Tommaso Campanella and Avvakum Petrovitch recount and reflect upon times spent incarcerated for holding non-mainstream religious beliefs, and in doing so, reveal their attitudes regarding the world around them. Campanella’s portrayal of the physical world as inherently consisting of unceasing suffering and misunderstanding at the hands of others serves to explain both the scorn he expresses toward his earthly experience and the reverence he shows toward Heaven. Avvakum, on the other hand, celebrates nature and materiality as creations of God, and rather than viewing the world as inherently causing suffering, he blames any misery he experiences on himself, whether it is because of his holiness or his sinfulness. Overall, in comparing the works of Campanella and Avvakum, the reader gains a better understanding of how one’s religious beliefs impact their perception of their own experiences with incarceration. Even among individuals with similarly maligned beliefs, their way of processing what has happened to them is deeply personal, and no one conclusion can be drawn about how incarcerated people as a whole understand it.
Bibliography
Avvakum, Petrovič,. Archpriest Avvakum: The Life Written by Himself. Trans. K. J. Brostrom. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan, 1979.
Campanella, Tommaso. Selected Philosophical Poems of Tommaso Campanella. Trans. S. Roush. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2011.