Reading Journal 8

(On Gladkov's Cement.)

Considering all of the negative references I had heard directed at socialist realism in passing during research on Sofia Gubaidulina, I had expected Gladkov's writing to be one-dimensional and biased-feeling. It may still have a pinch of the latter, but compared with Gorky, the scene painted is so much more realistic and fault-admitting. As Dr. Volynska remarked in class, it's a wonder that it was published when it was, and even more so that it more than survived in the coming years. It was notably contradictory to what was expected of socialist realism, just from the list given in class:

• reality is not as it should be
• focus on individual stereotypes
• tragedies abound--rape, Nurka's death, and Serge's family being torn apart, to name a few
• not all is known (just by the fact that it takes an entire book of conflicts to get one factory restarted)
• dogma is not truth: Nurka dies from lack of love (Soviet dogma fails)
• hero and heroine both have major flaws
• outcome not at all inevitable, or even expected; constant conflict throughout
• human beings change and are not class-determined (Serge's father hates his possessions, the Cossack leader shows mercy, and the working class members often do not live up to their assumed great humanity)
• while the overall style is clear and rational, Gleb's words sometimes aren't, particularly as he comes to grips with the new Dasha
• the evolution of Gleb comes post-indoctrination, not parallel to it

While the other approximate half of the list does seem to apply, it was much more interesting to notice these, because, especially if one is expecting something highly propagandistic, such deviations actually lend the story much more 'true' realism and credibility; trust in the author's honesty is much more feasible. This is especially so since Gladkov, by having Nurka die from her mother's own description, "lack of love," especially in the face of her absolute commitment to the Soviet cause and her work in the Women's Section, apparently disagrees with Kollontai's replacement of the nuclear family with communal child-rearing. Finally, the admission that some organs of the communist regime do not always make the best decisions--evidenced by corruption in Chapter 15 and the opposition within the state that Gleb must overcome to get the factory finally working again in the end--is strikingly realistic. Unfortunately, from reading Solzhenitsyn, we know that this warning message fell on deaf ears, only to be turned into an excuse for more waves of arrests under the accusation of sabotage and misuse of resources, while the higher-ups actually guilty of these things tended to survive much longer before being offed by Stalin.

In terms of gender relations, this book is both encouraging and tragic. I see it as good that Dasha is able to become more fully human, and eventually bring Gleb around to affirming this without giving up his own strengths, but actually thus giving up some of his weaknesses and becoming more fully human himself. What's disheartening is that the overwork and misguided trust in the commune that Dasha follows through to the end destroys her daughter literally and also puts an end to what had developed into something good between her and Gleb. On the trust in the commune I remarked in an earlier journal that I'm actually in favour in some respects, but the description given in the book of the lady in charge of raising Nurka makes Dasha's trust in her seem foolish. I guess this amounts to my disagreement with either implicit trust or implicit distrust in such a system: if you can build a relationship with someone such that you can trust them to help you raise your child--indeed, isn't this a large part of the traditional marital relationship?--then the world is better for it. But entrusting someone you actually believe is a scoundrel, or shying away from trusting anyone, I see as divergent from furthering the humanity of oneself and others in the world. This is also why I think the "open relationship" proposed by Kollontai complicates things: we see it play out here in Dasha's inexplicable sexual relationship with Badin after his unwanted advances and betrayal are so vividly juxtaposed with her courage in Chapter 8, in that Dasha's unrestricted sexuality makes it difficult for her to perceive accurately the truth of the situation: that she is not having sex with Badin, the man, but rather with his position, as symbolic of the revolution she is so passionate about.