P. 411-470
In this section of the book (chapters 16 to chapter 27 p.411-470), Grossman vividly depicts the utter trepidation felt by the Soviet soldiers in House 6/1 in the first part of the section. Grossman writes: “Maybe the Germans would appear any moment out of the far corners of the cellar. Maybe they were about to appear through the hole in the ceiling” (413). The Soviet soldiers were full of stark apprehension for the Germans. During this period of apprehension and terror, struggles of love and power start to form in House 6/1.
It is interesting to note the way Grossman portrays the role of Katya Vengrova, a female Soviet radio-operator in House 6/1. In World War II, the role of women is often overlooked as the majority of soldiers were men. In the Soviet Army, however, more than 800,000 women were found on the front lines. In House 6/1, all the men become obsessed with Katya as they start joking about who will be the first one to sleep with her. Grossman describes Grekov’s feelings towards Katya: “I’ve never met a girl like you before. If I’d met you before the war, I’d have made you my wife” (414). In times of war, is there time for feelings such as love and compassion? All too often, World War II is characterized by vast destruction and bloodshed. Grossman, however, aptly alludes to feelings of affection in this section that characterize the soldiers’ nostalgia for love and relationships. Despite having to put on manly façades for the war, the Soviet soldiers still are attracted to Katya. What does this illustrate about the human psyche in terms of love and war?
In this section, a power struggle also starts to form between Grekov, the house manager of House 6/1 and Krymov, the commissar. Krymov declares: “Grekov, you’re going too far. You’ve lost all sense of proportion….My orders were that, if necessary, I should demote you and take command myself. Why force me along that path” (425)? Thus, Krymov accuses Grekov of losing his cool and threatens to strip him of his power. Grekov, however, is a stubborn-minded character who wields a great amount of control over the other soldiers in the House. Grossman describes Grekov: “He was very different....He never threatened people or shouted at them, but they obeyed him. He just sat there, smoking and chatting away like one of the soldiers. And yet his authority was immense” (414). Why do you think the soldiers in House 6/1 respect Grekov so much despite his stubborn temperament? Does he exhibit the qualities of a Machiavellian leader? Who do you think is a better leader Krymov or Grekov and why?
After the account of the events associated with House 6/1, Grossman turns to the arrival of Viktor, Lyudmila and Nadya in Moscow. As Viktor’s life in Moscow progresses, his thoughts revolve around trivial things such as rations and “petty bourgeois concerns” (467). Grossman writes: “He was ashamed at being so preoccupied with things like rations. He had grown dull....Why had these trivialities, these petty-bourgeois concerns suddenly become so important? Why had his spiritual life in Kazan been so much purer, so much more significant? Why was it that even his scientific work—and his joy in it – was now contaminated with vanity and pettiness?....Why, now he was back in Moscow, were the things he recalled so trivial and insignificant? Why did he think so often of people he had no respect for? And why were the most talented people, the most trustworthy people, unable to help him” (467, 470)? Thus, Grossman marks Viktor’s arrival in Moscow with a sudden turn to the commonplace and the mundane. Viktor begins to question his living conditions and his spiritual faith. Indeed, he now associates his scientific work with a sense of frivolity. Why do you think this transition in Viktor’s life has occurred? Do you believe that the people Viktor admires the most share the same ideology as Viktor? And what about the relationship between Sokolov (the mathematician in Viktor’s lab) and Viktor? Do Viktor’s Anti-Stalinist feelings have an effect on the relationship between the two academics?
Well, that’s all I have for this post. Thanks for an awesome year guys. The discussions we had were insightful, passionate, and edifying. Thanks for putting up with all of us and our sometimes tangential discussions, Mr. Heubeck. (Also, thanks for the myriad of extensions. They saved us all.) I will certainly miss Lockwood’s “Death is Dead” mantra and Tino’s ardent admiration of Rush Limbaugh :) Good luck to you all next year!
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
David
At the beginning of this section, Viktor is very conflicted about whether or not he should sign a letter incriminating two men, Doctor Levin and Professor Pletnyov, in the murder of the great writer Aleksey Maximovich Gorky. Nothing could have made him believe that either had killed the great writer (834) but under the pressure and threat of the State looming over him, he decides to betray his friends. Thinking logically or idealistically about what he “should” do would only prolong the torture of making the inevitable decision to save himself, rather than two innocent men (in a sort of better them than me attitude). It seems like this is a statement on basic human nature – that even the best of men (Viktor) will ultimately choose to save themselves rather than stand up for what they know is right – especially when “an omnipotent hand (the State) strokes your hair and pats you on the back (gives you benefits).” (835) Obviously this echoes The Lives of Others. Truly, “both good men and bad men alike are capable of weakness.” And now, Viktor, who had been so proud of his courage and uprightness, has now too betrayed people. (840) Resultantly, “his human happiness, his work, his beloved science, his love for his mother, his grief for her – everything has vanished.” (840) I think we all agree that this is a distinguishing quality of any totalitarian state.
After the Russian forces route the Germans at Stalingrad however, things begin to change. “The war had given way to peace – a poor, miserable peace that was hardly any easier than the war. “ (858) This statement reminds me of the Tony Judt piece about recognizing evils in all of its forms, and not just in obvious ones such as Stalinism, or war. Perhaps this inability to return to normalcy is one of those evils. The book focuses on the post-war experience of Alexandra Vladimirovna, Spiridonov and company. Vladimirovna wonders about what the future holds in store for her, for she has “no idea” and wonders why the destinies of her loved ones were so confused, so obscure. (861) After all, the only thing that all of them had hoped for, the only thing that they all had wanted was happiness, but now that the war is over, happiness certainly is not promised. Ultimately she concludes that men can forge their own happiness, and that “fate, nor history, nor the State…can affect those who call themselves human beings” by the rationale that “no matter what life holds in store, they will live and die as human beings.” (862) Clearly this indicates a triumph of human will over the abstract concept of fate and destiny. “Life has to go on” and indeed it will, in spite of everything. The same idea is reflected again when she states to Stephan that “it” (up for interpretation, but probably a reference to all the lives lost in battle, and the oppression/terrorism of the state) doesn’t matter. It’s life.” (867)
Finally, the final chapter serves as something of a capstone to the book. We move away from any of the characters we have previously met, and simply follow a short anecdote of an old woman as she reflects on her difficult life, and a tenant and her husband walking into a village. By focusing the last chapter on new, nameless and faceless characters, he seems to be reminding us that this (Life and Fate) is a story about all those people stuck under Stalinist rule – that the experiences of the Shaposhnikov family were not particularly unique or isolated events. Instead, this is a story about those millions forced to live under totalitarian regimes. This book simply serves as a poignant reminder and tribute to all of their lives.
After the Russian forces route the Germans at Stalingrad however, things begin to change. “The war had given way to peace – a poor, miserable peace that was hardly any easier than the war. “ (858) This statement reminds me of the Tony Judt piece about recognizing evils in all of its forms, and not just in obvious ones such as Stalinism, or war. Perhaps this inability to return to normalcy is one of those evils. The book focuses on the post-war experience of Alexandra Vladimirovna, Spiridonov and company. Vladimirovna wonders about what the future holds in store for her, for she has “no idea” and wonders why the destinies of her loved ones were so confused, so obscure. (861) After all, the only thing that all of them had hoped for, the only thing that they all had wanted was happiness, but now that the war is over, happiness certainly is not promised. Ultimately she concludes that men can forge their own happiness, and that “fate, nor history, nor the State…can affect those who call themselves human beings” by the rationale that “no matter what life holds in store, they will live and die as human beings.” (862) Clearly this indicates a triumph of human will over the abstract concept of fate and destiny. “Life has to go on” and indeed it will, in spite of everything. The same idea is reflected again when she states to Stephan that “it” (up for interpretation, but probably a reference to all the lives lost in battle, and the oppression/terrorism of the state) doesn’t matter. It’s life.” (867)
Finally, the final chapter serves as something of a capstone to the book. We move away from any of the characters we have previously met, and simply follow a short anecdote of an old woman as she reflects on her difficult life, and a tenant and her husband walking into a village. By focusing the last chapter on new, nameless and faceless characters, he seems to be reminding us that this (Life and Fate) is a story about all those people stuck under Stalinist rule – that the experiences of the Shaposhnikov family were not particularly unique or isolated events. Instead, this is a story about those millions forced to live under totalitarian regimes. This book simply serves as a poignant reminder and tribute to all of their lives.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Adam B.
Fear.
In a society where there are no rules, no laws, no restraints on the power of the state, all is left up to fate. Everything that the characters in Grossman’s novel hold dear, everything that they posses can be suddenly taken away, leaving the citizens in constant fear. When Viktor learns that the house manager wants to talk to him, he goes into his a panic as thoughts race through his mind and his head begins to spin; “was it about their excess living space? Viktor’s out-of-date passport? Or was it a check-up by the Military Commissariat? Or perhaps some informer had told them that Yevgenia had been living there without being registered” (759). All of us would go mad, I bet, living in such world filled by constant threat.
Yet, one thing in Viktor’s unpredictable life is certain beyond a doubt. As Viktor remarks, “they already know everything” to which Lyudmila responds “of course they do. They’re all spying on us… What’s there to be surprised about?” (760). He remembers Krymov, “as pure and dedicated a Communist as anyone,” who had been arrested and no one seemed shocked. This brings Viktor “back to his student days. How he had talked!”It raises the question of whether there is any justice in the Communist system. With all the injustice seen in this novel alone, there is no need to list them.
After a few weeks of living in this constant fear , Viktor’s nerves are tested. Everywhere he went, “his feeling of terror grew more and more oppressive” (760). He must live his life with so many daily fears. At times, “Viktor looked at his wife, wondering what the two of them would be like in ten of fifteen years” (761). In such madness as this, how long could you last? Compared to life in the U.S., it would certainly be quite a contrast.
However, things turn around quickly for Viktor Shtrum. One day the phone rings while he is sitting in his living room. His wife picks up the phone, unable to recognize who is calling. But as it turns out, it is just your friendly neighborhood comrade Stalin. This alleviates Viktor’s fear temporarily. At least, until he remembers that he has to visit the house manager, then he no longer goes about his life merrily.
The section also includes a window into Viktor’s imprisoned life. Set in the prisons, it portrays his terrible strife. This section ends with a wonderful quotation about life and fate. Thinking of his dead friend he realizes “that’s my fate too… I’ve got nowhere to go… it’s too late” (788).
In a society where there are no rules, no laws, no restraints on the power of the state, all is left up to fate. Everything that the characters in Grossman’s novel hold dear, everything that they posses can be suddenly taken away, leaving the citizens in constant fear. When Viktor learns that the house manager wants to talk to him, he goes into his a panic as thoughts race through his mind and his head begins to spin; “was it about their excess living space? Viktor’s out-of-date passport? Or was it a check-up by the Military Commissariat? Or perhaps some informer had told them that Yevgenia had been living there without being registered” (759). All of us would go mad, I bet, living in such world filled by constant threat.
Yet, one thing in Viktor’s unpredictable life is certain beyond a doubt. As Viktor remarks, “they already know everything” to which Lyudmila responds “of course they do. They’re all spying on us… What’s there to be surprised about?” (760). He remembers Krymov, “as pure and dedicated a Communist as anyone,” who had been arrested and no one seemed shocked. This brings Viktor “back to his student days. How he had talked!”It raises the question of whether there is any justice in the Communist system. With all the injustice seen in this novel alone, there is no need to list them.
After a few weeks of living in this constant fear , Viktor’s nerves are tested. Everywhere he went, “his feeling of terror grew more and more oppressive” (760). He must live his life with so many daily fears. At times, “Viktor looked at his wife, wondering what the two of them would be like in ten of fifteen years” (761). In such madness as this, how long could you last? Compared to life in the U.S., it would certainly be quite a contrast.
However, things turn around quickly for Viktor Shtrum. One day the phone rings while he is sitting in his living room. His wife picks up the phone, unable to recognize who is calling. But as it turns out, it is just your friendly neighborhood comrade Stalin. This alleviates Viktor’s fear temporarily. At least, until he remembers that he has to visit the house manager, then he no longer goes about his life merrily.
The section also includes a window into Viktor’s imprisoned life. Set in the prisons, it portrays his terrible strife. This section ends with a wonderful quotation about life and fate. Thinking of his dead friend he realizes “that’s my fate too… I’ve got nowhere to go… it’s too late” (788).
Ian's Post
Ian T; pages 471 to 508
The most important sections of the reading from page 471 to 508 are Liss's inspections of the concentration camp facilities beginning on page 471, his meeting with Obersturmbannfuhrer Eichmann on pages 476 to 484, and Grossman's discussion of anti-Semitism on pages 484 to 487.
The cold efficiency of the camp programs and facilities that Liss inspects at the beginning of the reading mirrors the Nazi officials' callousness and inhumanity. Liss is first impressed by the efficiency of Voss engineering works, but he is dissapointed by the chemical firm in charge of producing drugs for the concentration camp. The comparison of the two firms demonstrates the German's proficiency in mechanics, and their incompetence in matters of health. This comparison hints that the Germans' mechanic, ultra-rational outlook overpowers their ability to appreciate life and human emotion.
The Nazi inhumanity is made clear in Liss's inspection of one of the gas chambers being constructed at the camp. Liss praises the efficiency of the chamber and says, "It was capable of transforming life itself, and all forms of energy pertaining to it, into inorganic matter" (474). The gas chamber is representative of the Nazi's ability to destroy life and humanity and turn it into "inorganic matter."
The meeting between Liss and Eichmann is also worth noting. Liss first believes Eichmann to be a blindly devoted idealist, but he realizes that Eichmann is much smarter than that after Eichmann forgets to make a toast to the success of the Nazi party. Liss then describes the four types of Nazi officials. He says the first type of Nazi is unintelligent, dogmatic, and blind devotionalist. The second category is made up of "intelligent cynics" (482), who see the faults of the party but follow blindly to maintain their positions. The third category is comprised of top officials who are free from the party idealism, and able to think objectively about Nazism. The fourth group is the industrialist who profit from Nazism. It is interesting that Liss believes Nazis become less attached and emphatic about the party as they ascend in ranks. Liss is afraid of Hitler because he believes Hitler combines the rationality of members of the third party with the dangerous dogmatism of the first.
Grossman's discussion of anti-Semitism is the last important section of this reading. In chapter 31, Grossman argues that anti-Semitism is a result of the failures of various governments that seek to blame their problems on another group. Grossman writes, "It is a mirror for the failings of individuals, social structures and State systems. Tell me what you accuse the Jews of - I'll tell you what you're guilty of" (484). He then writes, "And in accusing the jews of racism, a desire for world domination and a cosmopolitan indifference towards the German fatherland, National Socialism was merely describing its own features" (484-485). Grossman believes that many countries, but specifically Germany, used anti-Semitism as a tool to transfer its peoples frustrations towards their government onto another group of people. The strategy clearly worked in Germany, as ignorant masses blamed Jews for the problems that Nazism caused.
The most important sections of the reading from page 471 to 508 are Liss's inspections of the concentration camp facilities beginning on page 471, his meeting with Obersturmbannfuhrer Eichmann on pages 476 to 484, and Grossman's discussion of anti-Semitism on pages 484 to 487.
The cold efficiency of the camp programs and facilities that Liss inspects at the beginning of the reading mirrors the Nazi officials' callousness and inhumanity. Liss is first impressed by the efficiency of Voss engineering works, but he is dissapointed by the chemical firm in charge of producing drugs for the concentration camp. The comparison of the two firms demonstrates the German's proficiency in mechanics, and their incompetence in matters of health. This comparison hints that the Germans' mechanic, ultra-rational outlook overpowers their ability to appreciate life and human emotion.
The Nazi inhumanity is made clear in Liss's inspection of one of the gas chambers being constructed at the camp. Liss praises the efficiency of the chamber and says, "It was capable of transforming life itself, and all forms of energy pertaining to it, into inorganic matter" (474). The gas chamber is representative of the Nazi's ability to destroy life and humanity and turn it into "inorganic matter."
The meeting between Liss and Eichmann is also worth noting. Liss first believes Eichmann to be a blindly devoted idealist, but he realizes that Eichmann is much smarter than that after Eichmann forgets to make a toast to the success of the Nazi party. Liss then describes the four types of Nazi officials. He says the first type of Nazi is unintelligent, dogmatic, and blind devotionalist. The second category is made up of "intelligent cynics" (482), who see the faults of the party but follow blindly to maintain their positions. The third category is comprised of top officials who are free from the party idealism, and able to think objectively about Nazism. The fourth group is the industrialist who profit from Nazism. It is interesting that Liss believes Nazis become less attached and emphatic about the party as they ascend in ranks. Liss is afraid of Hitler because he believes Hitler combines the rationality of members of the third party with the dangerous dogmatism of the first.
Grossman's discussion of anti-Semitism is the last important section of this reading. In chapter 31, Grossman argues that anti-Semitism is a result of the failures of various governments that seek to blame their problems on another group. Grossman writes, "It is a mirror for the failings of individuals, social structures and State systems. Tell me what you accuse the Jews of - I'll tell you what you're guilty of" (484). He then writes, "And in accusing the jews of racism, a desire for world domination and a cosmopolitan indifference towards the German fatherland, National Socialism was merely describing its own features" (484-485). Grossman believes that many countries, but specifically Germany, used anti-Semitism as a tool to transfer its peoples frustrations towards their government onto another group of people. The strategy clearly worked in Germany, as ignorant masses blamed Jews for the problems that Nazism caused.
Andrew K.
In this section of the novel (Part III: Chapters 25-40) the tides of war have turned at Stalingrad and the Russian army is now driving the Germans back. However, the Russians are not glorialized over the Germans – Russia is described by Grossman as “terrible and somber” and “steel-clad” (712). There is little pity towards defeated German prisoners, and nationalism seems to have surged among the Russians. Nationalism is a profoundly un-Marxist idea, and yet very few question its importance. “Russian” is often used as a compliment (as “true American” is sometimes used today). “You can’t overestimate the importance of nationality,” Getmanov says (716), and he goes on to describe the inferiority of the Kalmyks to the Russians. Darensky agrees despite having never felt any antipathy towards the Kalmyks.
The only one seemingly immune to this surge of nationalism is Viktor, who once said “There was no German physics, American physics or Soviet physics.” (754) Viktor refuses to attend a meeting to discuss his failures as a Soviet and his daughter observes sarcastically that he hasn’t “gone off to repent”, to which Yevgenia says to her, “Well, there isn’t a single drop of Slav blood in you. You’re a true Hebrew maiden.” (704) In doing so, Yevgenia mocks the notion of a ‘true Russia’ as opposed to the rest of Russia, with its Jews and its Kalmyks and its Tartars, all inferior to the true Russia. I still find it absurd that Viktor is labeled as a Jew when he doesn’t believe in God (697). But in his refusal to accept nationalism, Viktor is being a true Socialist more than the Stalinists. Viktor says on page 699 that “The greatest tragedy of our age is that we don’t listen to our consciences. We don’t say what we think. We feel one thing and do another… Socialism, first of all, is the right to a conscience. To deprive a man of his conscience is a terrible crime.” It is clear that Viktor believes himself to be a true Socialist more than those who support the current regime. However, Viktor is far from invulnerable: when he hears the results of the meeting “It was as though the State, in its fury, was able to take away not only his freedom and peace of mind, but even his intelligence, his talent and his belief in himself. It had transformed him into a grey, stupid, miserable bourgeois.” (757)
Interestingly enough, Grossman shifts focus to the Germans for several chapters. Grossman sees Nazism as profoundly inhuman, however, in defeat, the German people are beginning to recover their humanity. He describes this time as “the first hours, after ten years of complete inhumanity, of a slow return to human life” for millions of Germans. (732) Only of a few, such as Lenard, is it suggested that “There was too much of him… that was dedicated only to the State; now it was too late for that to be made human.” (741) In portraying the Germans as sympathetic characters, Grossman is taking another shot at nationalism – Germans are no worse than Russians, even if Nazism is far worse than Communism.
On a final note, I will admit that I read the scene where the German soldiers receive little fake Christmas trees and sing O Tannenbaum through tears. World War Two is still close enough to home to have the same Christmas carols, so it still hurts.
The only one seemingly immune to this surge of nationalism is Viktor, who once said “There was no German physics, American physics or Soviet physics.” (754) Viktor refuses to attend a meeting to discuss his failures as a Soviet and his daughter observes sarcastically that he hasn’t “gone off to repent”, to which Yevgenia says to her, “Well, there isn’t a single drop of Slav blood in you. You’re a true Hebrew maiden.” (704) In doing so, Yevgenia mocks the notion of a ‘true Russia’ as opposed to the rest of Russia, with its Jews and its Kalmyks and its Tartars, all inferior to the true Russia. I still find it absurd that Viktor is labeled as a Jew when he doesn’t believe in God (697). But in his refusal to accept nationalism, Viktor is being a true Socialist more than the Stalinists. Viktor says on page 699 that “The greatest tragedy of our age is that we don’t listen to our consciences. We don’t say what we think. We feel one thing and do another… Socialism, first of all, is the right to a conscience. To deprive a man of his conscience is a terrible crime.” It is clear that Viktor believes himself to be a true Socialist more than those who support the current regime. However, Viktor is far from invulnerable: when he hears the results of the meeting “It was as though the State, in its fury, was able to take away not only his freedom and peace of mind, but even his intelligence, his talent and his belief in himself. It had transformed him into a grey, stupid, miserable bourgeois.” (757)
Interestingly enough, Grossman shifts focus to the Germans for several chapters. Grossman sees Nazism as profoundly inhuman, however, in defeat, the German people are beginning to recover their humanity. He describes this time as “the first hours, after ten years of complete inhumanity, of a slow return to human life” for millions of Germans. (732) Only of a few, such as Lenard, is it suggested that “There was too much of him… that was dedicated only to the State; now it was too late for that to be made human.” (741) In portraying the Germans as sympathetic characters, Grossman is taking another shot at nationalism – Germans are no worse than Russians, even if Nazism is far worse than Communism.
On a final note, I will admit that I read the scene where the German soldiers receive little fake Christmas trees and sing O Tannenbaum through tears. World War Two is still close enough to home to have the same Christmas carols, so it still hurts.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Evan's Post
The beginning of Part Three opens with Krymov’s decommission as an officer on the Stalingrad front. As he is led into the bunker and is promptly asked to turn in his weapon and papers, a hopeless confusion and a feeling of personal injustice match his distinct surprise. In a sense, he is now free from the collective brutality of the Red Army, free from witnessing horrific, despicable, inhuman acts of war, free from fighting for a cause that he does not wholeheartedly believe in.
So why, then, does Grossman included the ominous ending line, “These words were no longer those of a free man.” (616)? What is he trying to say about how the totalitarian system operates, and how the freedom is valued and understood?
The following torture scene and breakdown in the Special Section at the Front HQ effectively illuminates the power and truth behind Grossman’s brooding, frightening statement on 616. The burdens of fear, uncertainty, paranoia, and mistrust have become agents of oppression and psychologically destruction. Krymov’s individualistic spirit has been utterly crushed, and has left him in a state of almost psychotic desperation. “He had become another being. Everything in him had to change. He had lost his freedom.” (617) In other words, Krymov’s identity has been erased. The things that made him who he was–thoughts, opinions, ideas, and attitudes– have all been stripped away. Because of his devotional hesitance concerning the ideals of Bolshevism, he is now to be conditioned to receive Leninist and Stalinist ideological understandings openly, and to adapt to them with absolute faith.
So why is this idea of changing the nature of man, of altering his personal sense of individuality and opinion, so essential to the success of totalitarianism as a utopian system? More importantly, how are the other major characters in the novel affected by this relentless political strictness, this oppressive inflexibility, as well as the attempts of the men in power to convert an entire nation into a universally accepted, sincere, unadulterated, idyllic Communist state?
Finally, I want to propose a question concerning Grossman’s repetition of the line “He had lost his freedom” (617, 618, etc) Why do you think he chose to repeat this line several times throughout this section of the novel? What is the significance of this repetition in the context of the central themes of the novel, and how does it apply to the lives of characters like Viktor, Lyudmila, Novikov, etc. as they continue to struggle with retrieving and reinventing their identity and individualistic spirit?
I look forward to your thoughts and insights.
So why, then, does Grossman included the ominous ending line, “These words were no longer those of a free man.” (616)? What is he trying to say about how the totalitarian system operates, and how the freedom is valued and understood?
The following torture scene and breakdown in the Special Section at the Front HQ effectively illuminates the power and truth behind Grossman’s brooding, frightening statement on 616. The burdens of fear, uncertainty, paranoia, and mistrust have become agents of oppression and psychologically destruction. Krymov’s individualistic spirit has been utterly crushed, and has left him in a state of almost psychotic desperation. “He had become another being. Everything in him had to change. He had lost his freedom.” (617) In other words, Krymov’s identity has been erased. The things that made him who he was–thoughts, opinions, ideas, and attitudes– have all been stripped away. Because of his devotional hesitance concerning the ideals of Bolshevism, he is now to be conditioned to receive Leninist and Stalinist ideological understandings openly, and to adapt to them with absolute faith.
So why is this idea of changing the nature of man, of altering his personal sense of individuality and opinion, so essential to the success of totalitarianism as a utopian system? More importantly, how are the other major characters in the novel affected by this relentless political strictness, this oppressive inflexibility, as well as the attempts of the men in power to convert an entire nation into a universally accepted, sincere, unadulterated, idyllic Communist state?
Finally, I want to propose a question concerning Grossman’s repetition of the line “He had lost his freedom” (617, 618, etc) Why do you think he chose to repeat this line several times throughout this section of the novel? What is the significance of this repetition in the context of the central themes of the novel, and how does it apply to the lives of characters like Viktor, Lyudmila, Novikov, etc. as they continue to struggle with retrieving and reinventing their identity and individualistic spirit?
I look forward to your thoughts and insights.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Ned's Post
Hello my fellow comrades,
Recently in class, we have been discussing the destruction of the individual: the effects a totalitarian government has on society, one that creates a uniform societal model, an ideal view of the world, which controls the fate of one’s life. In the book “Life and Fate,” Grossman leads us through a sequence of stories, like the fate of the Shtrum/Shapashnikov family and the life in the camps of Soviet Russia and Nazi Germany, which both shed light on this very idea. This theme directly relates to what we first were discussing earlier this fall. Berlin, along with ideas of Vico, warns us of the ideal path, the claim that there is only one means to an ultimate utopia.
“They fell into an uncomfortable silence. Viktor felt a shiver of fear, the fear that was always lurking in his heart – fear of the State’s anger, fear of being a victim of this anger that could crush a man and grind him to dust” (Grossman 569).
Here, Viktor feels an explicit unease between himself, his peace of mind, and this man, Pyotr Lavrentyevich. As we know by now, Grossman loves to insert many minor characters, adding deliberate tensions between them and the various protagonists. Similarly, on page 572, we learn of Anna Stepanovna’s dilemma at the Institute. Without much explanation, she was ordered to resign from the laboratory. She “saved the Institute. She looked after everything during the bombing. And now she’s being dismissed purely on administrative grounds” (573). Only separated by a few pages, we see two distinct examples of the Soviet State devalue the merits and worth of the individual.
Although this theme has been present in some of our previous discussions and readings prior to mine, I thought I would bring this specific dialogue to the fore. Near the end of chapter 53, I was caught by a particularly striking description of Kovchenko: “He bowed his head. He was no longer a professor, a doctor of science, a famous scientist who had made a remarkable discovery, a man who could be forthright and independent, arrogant and condescending. He was just a man with curly hair and a hooked nose, with a stooped back and narrow shoulders, screwing up his eyes as though he was expecting a blow on the cheek.” (575) According the Soviet State, Kovchenko is not a man of value, a man whose accomplishments should speak to his deserved status in society. In their minds, Kovchenko is no different from any other “stooped back[ed and] narrow shoulder[ed]” member of society. Kovchenko should not necessarily have all the ‘bells and whistles’ attached to his profession, but it becomes terribly apparent that he is not seen as an individual and a productive member of society.
My question to you all: where have we seen a similar destruction in the book so far, whether in this section of the book or in one preceding mine? How does Grossman use specific events and characters to develop this idea? I look forward to hearing what you all have to say!
Nedwin out.
Recently in class, we have been discussing the destruction of the individual: the effects a totalitarian government has on society, one that creates a uniform societal model, an ideal view of the world, which controls the fate of one’s life. In the book “Life and Fate,” Grossman leads us through a sequence of stories, like the fate of the Shtrum/Shapashnikov family and the life in the camps of Soviet Russia and Nazi Germany, which both shed light on this very idea. This theme directly relates to what we first were discussing earlier this fall. Berlin, along with ideas of Vico, warns us of the ideal path, the claim that there is only one means to an ultimate utopia.
“They fell into an uncomfortable silence. Viktor felt a shiver of fear, the fear that was always lurking in his heart – fear of the State’s anger, fear of being a victim of this anger that could crush a man and grind him to dust” (Grossman 569).
Here, Viktor feels an explicit unease between himself, his peace of mind, and this man, Pyotr Lavrentyevich. As we know by now, Grossman loves to insert many minor characters, adding deliberate tensions between them and the various protagonists. Similarly, on page 572, we learn of Anna Stepanovna’s dilemma at the Institute. Without much explanation, she was ordered to resign from the laboratory. She “saved the Institute. She looked after everything during the bombing. And now she’s being dismissed purely on administrative grounds” (573). Only separated by a few pages, we see two distinct examples of the Soviet State devalue the merits and worth of the individual.
Although this theme has been present in some of our previous discussions and readings prior to mine, I thought I would bring this specific dialogue to the fore. Near the end of chapter 53, I was caught by a particularly striking description of Kovchenko: “He bowed his head. He was no longer a professor, a doctor of science, a famous scientist who had made a remarkable discovery, a man who could be forthright and independent, arrogant and condescending. He was just a man with curly hair and a hooked nose, with a stooped back and narrow shoulders, screwing up his eyes as though he was expecting a blow on the cheek.” (575) According the Soviet State, Kovchenko is not a man of value, a man whose accomplishments should speak to his deserved status in society. In their minds, Kovchenko is no different from any other “stooped back[ed and] narrow shoulder[ed]” member of society. Kovchenko should not necessarily have all the ‘bells and whistles’ attached to his profession, but it becomes terribly apparent that he is not seen as an individual and a productive member of society.
My question to you all: where have we seen a similar destruction in the book so far, whether in this section of the book or in one preceding mine? How does Grossman use specific events and characters to develop this idea? I look forward to hearing what you all have to say!
Nedwin out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
