Vasilii Makarovich Shukshin 1929-1974

Prose writer, film director, and actor

Biography

Born in Srostki, Altai region of Siberia, 25 July 1929. Attended village school, 1937-44; Biisk
Automobile Technical College, 1944-45. Worked on kolkhoz in Srostki, 1945-46; held various
casual labouring jobs throughout the USSR. Served in the Navy, 1949-52: declared unfit for
active service on account of a stomach ulcer. Returned to Srostki to recover; also obtained school
leaving certificate. Teacher of Russian language and literature at Srostki Youth College. Married:
1) Mariia Shumskaia in 1954, one daughter; 2) Lidiia Nikolaevna Fedoseeva in 1964, two
daughters. Moved to Moscow, 1954; attended All-Union Institute of Cinematography, 1954-60;
graduated from faculty for Directors. Member of the Communist Party, 1955. First publication in
journal, Smena, 1958. First collection, Sel’skie zhiteli [Village Dwellers] published, 1963; first
feature film, Zhivet takoi paren’ [There Lives Such a Lad], 1964, which won Golden Lion
Award at Venice Film Festival. Recipient: Brothers Vasil’ev Prize, 1967; USSR State Prize,
1971; Lenin Prize, 1976 (posthumously). Died in Kletskii, Volgograd, 2 October 1974. Buried in
Novodevich’ii cemetery.

Vasilii Shukshin is not easily categorized as a writer. He has often been labelled a derevenshchik
(Village Prose writer), the rural settings and themes of his work contributing to this image.
However, Shukshin displays a degree of versatility and a sense of irony uncommon among the
traditional derevenshchiki. He represents a halfway-house between Village Prose’s reverence for
the traditions of rural Russia, and the total irreverence displayed by more recent writers such as
Evgenii Popov.
Shukshin began his literary career while still a student at the All-Union State Institute of
Cinematography in Moscow. He learned how to write concisely and evocatively under the
tutelage of the film director Mikhail Romm and was first published in the journal Smena in 1958.
His early works are simple village vignettes dealing with everyday rural life. Yet even at this
stage he displayed an interest in the unusual villager, the eccentric or chudak. This figure was to
recur in various forms throughout Shukshin’s literary and cinematic career.
Shukshin’s eccentric is always male and stands in stark contrast to the female characters, who
are invariably stereotypes: either idealized mother-figures, the typical love-interest, or caricatures
of the nagging wife. The chudak is an eternal dreamer, searching for an escape from the
monotony of real life. This escape manifests itself in different ways. The hero of the short story
“Odni” (“Alone”) 1963, forgets the drudgery of the working day by playing his balalaika. His
wife, however, considers his musical interests to be a distraction from his work as a harness-
maker, and tries to prevent him from playing whenever she can. So he is forced to wait until she
leaves the house before he can enjoy the sense of transcendence he attains with his music. In the
later story “Mil’ pardon, madam!” (“Mille pardons, madame!”) 1968, the protagonist, Bron’ka
Pupkov, finds his escape in telling a particular tall tale. Bron’ka regularly accompanies visiting
city people on hunting trips and likes to tell the story of his failed assassination attempt on Hitler
during World War II. The story has no basis in reality, and, perhaps for that reason, affords its
teller a sense of release from ordinary life, the opportunity to dream out loud in front of an
audience. In “Srezal” (“Cut Down to Size”) 1970, one villager, Gleb Kapustin, takes particular
delight in humiliating visiting intellectuals from the city. His wish is to be heard and regarded as
a force to be reckoned with, despite his rural background. Yet, his knowledge of current issues is
drawn from magazines, television and radio shows and is consequently patchy. Gleb, however, is
oblivious to this minor detail, and achieves his sense of escape when he baffles the city folk with
– what he believes to be – his superior knowledge.
Although Shukshin’s literary forte is generally considered to be the short story, he also wrote
successful novellas and cinenovellas, the most important of which is Kalina krasnaia (Snowball
Berry Red). This tale of an eccentric ex-convict, who tries to escape his old lifestyle and start
afresh away from the city, is probably Shukshin’s best-known work. As a film it enjoyed huge
success in the Soviet Union as well as some acclaim abroad. Other novellas include Do tret’ikh
petukhov (Before the Cock Crows Thrice), an extravagant parody of the Russian fairy tale, and
Tochka zreniia [A Point of View], which describes a matchmaking from four different points of
view. The latter two works represent Shukshin’s mature oeuvre; in later years he displayed a
marked shift from the realities of everyday life to an interest in the fantastic, the unreal. He
developed a talent for satire and parody, and an increased sense of irony. This new style is also
apparent in his only play, Energichnye liudi (Energetic People).
Aside from his shorter works, Shukshin wrote two historical novels, neither of which received
great acclaim. It has been argued that Shukshin was not an accomplished novelist; his longer
works, in particular Liubaviny [The Liubavins], resemble a series of short episodes strung
together, lacking cohesion and structure. Liubaviny tells of a Siberian family and their difficulties
in coming to terms with the new Soviet regime being enforced in their village in the early 1920s.
It follows more than one generation of the family and spans several decades. The novel was
written in two stages, the second half of which lay unnoticed in Shukshin’s archive for 13 years
and was only published in 1987. His other novel, la prishel dat’ vam voliu [I Came to Give You
Freedom], is a reinterpretation of the Sten’ka Razin legend. The novel covers the build-up to, and
carrying out of, the Cossack and peasant rebellion led by Razin in the 17th century. The work
was to become an obsession for its author as he battled with the authorities to have it accepted as
a film project. Thwarted by censors and ill health, he never achieved his dream of writing,
directing, and starring in the film version. Shukshin died in 1974, at the age of 45, leaving more
than one unfinished project.
During his lifetime, Shukshin’s works were given a mixed reception in the Soviet Union.
While some critics admired the refreshing style and humour of his works, others were appalled
by his frank depictions of village life. Shukshin tried to maintain a dialogue with his readers and
film-goers, publishing a number of articles in answer to criticism from the public and established
critics. Following Shukshin’s premature death, critics were able to interpret the author’s works as
they wished and there was a deluge of books and articles, underlining his supposed Soviet
orthodoxy. In death Shukshin took on the role of popular hero; poems were dedicated to his
memory, a book of Shukshin’s sayings was published, and a Shukshin museum was opened in
his home village. In the Soviet Union of the 1970s and 1980s he was virtually canonized; in
Russia today, although still respected, he is considered somewhat passé. His reception in the
west has been muted by comparison. Chapters in text books of Soviet literature are devoted to
him (see Geoffrey Hosking, for instance), and there has been a small number of journal articles
and American PhD dissertations over the years. A significant figure in the development of
Russia’s literary and cinematic traditions, Shukshin now deserves serious re-evaluation.

NICOLE CHRISTIAN

Snowball Berry Red

Kalina krasnaia

Cine-novella, 1973

Snowball Berry Red was first published in 1973 in Nash sovremennik and attracted limited
interest. However, when the film version (in which Shukshin starred) was completed in early
1974 and screened in the spring, it caused a furore in the world of Russian cinema. The critic Lev
Anninskii regarded this work as Shukshin’s “creative testament”.
The story begins with the release of Egor Prokudin from prison. The hero relishes his new-
found freedom and enjoys the fact that it coincides with the coming of spring. Egor manages to
get a lift into town and en route discusses poetry, happiness, and world outlook with the morose
driver. Instead of making a fresh start on his arrival in the city, Egor returns to his old criminal
gang. He encounters a mixed reception; Guboshlep (Fat Lip), the gang-leader, is frosty and
disapproves of Egor’s post-prison exuberance. Lucienne, a former flame, is the only gang
member who is truly pleased to see him. The meeting is soon broken up when the police try to
raid their hideout. Egor escapes after receiving some money from Guboshlep and unsuccessfully
tries to find refuge with former girlfriends. Then he remembers his prison penfriend, Liuba
Baikalova (in the film version, played by Shukshin’s wife, Lidiia Fedoseeva), and he decides to
visit her. On first meeting they form an instant understanding. Egor accompanies her to her
family’s house and, after an initial uneasiness, the parents and brother accept him. Egor is
anxious to make a good impression and appreciates their hospitality. The next day, however,
their country kindness becomes too stifling for Prokudin and he escapes to town where he spends
a great deal of money on an attempt at an orgy of pleasure. This too fails and Egor decides to
return to Liuba and make a genuine fresh start. He finds a job on the collective farm as a tractor
driver and his life begins to take on a semblance of normality; this is soon to be shattered by two
events. One evening, Egor goes with Liuba to visit an old woman (he claims he is doing a prison
friend a favour). Egor wears dark glasses and asks Liuba to pretend they have come from the
social services to check up on the woman’s situation. After the meeting Egor admits that the
woman is his mother. His guilt at having abandoned her without word and then leading a
criminal life is overwhelming, and he breaks down. Second, Egor receives a threatening visit
from one of Guboshlep’s men, urging him to return to the gang. Egor refuses, but the gang soon
catches up with him and the consequences are fatal. Guboshlep comes in search of him,
interrupting his work in the fields, and Egor Prokudin meets his death at the hands of his former
friend and leader.
One of the most prominent themes of the work is Egor’s search for a sense of release. His
release from prison is merely a step in the right direction, his main wish is to find release for his
soul. He coins the term “festival of the soul” (“prazdnik dushi”) and tries to achieve this dream
throughout the story. These fine words, however, do not ring true, as Egor’s attempts to fulfil his
dream are steeped in confusion. He tries to create his festival on the one hand through honest,
hard work supported by the love of a good woman, and on the other by flirting with every
attractive young woman, and organizing an (unsuccessful) orgy of drinking and debauchery. In
creating a rural idyll with Liuba Baikalov, Egor makes a significant advance in his personal
renaissance. However, it cannot last; Egor realizes that he will not escape his past. The
persistence of his gang forms only one proof of his irrepressible past. The visit to his mother
allows him to comprehend the impossible nature of his situation. Shukshin explained his hero’s
thoughts: “… when he saw his mother, he understood everything in an instant: in life, he would
never find that festival, that peace, there was no way he could ever atone for his sins before his
mother – it would torment his conscience forever”. Perhaps for this reason, it has been suggested
that Prokudin meets his death willingly, voluntarily, as though in this manner justice will be
served.
The depiction of criminality and an underworld life were quite a novelty in Soviet literature of
the 1960s and 1970s. The publication of Solzhenitsyn’s Odin den’ Ivana Denisovicha (One Day
in the Life of Ivan Denisovich) in 1962 caused considerable controversy, and few writers wished
to tempt fate with similar works for a number of years thereafter. When it became clear that the
hero of Snowball Berry Red was an ex-convict, discussions ensued. Certain officials were
undecided about the suitability of the subject-matter for a film. However, plans went ahead, if in
a somewhat sanitized form, and the criminal, Egor Prokudin, became not only widely known, but
also immensely popular in Russia.
In spite of the serious issues addressed in the work – the criminal underworld, rehabilitation of
an ex-convict, the search for spiritual release in a faithless society, and death — Shukshin’s
talent for comedy shines through. Prokudin appealed to the public by virtue of his humour, his
zest for life, the scrapes he finds himself in and his ingenious ways of getting out of them.
While the publication of the story aroused little interest, the film provoked a good deal of
debate. It was considered worthy of coverage by the journal Voprosy literatury, which invited a
number of critics to comment on both film and scenario. Two camps emerged: those who
criticized its sentimentality, the banality of the characters and the unbelievable nature of certain
scenes; and those who appreciated the warmth of the characters, the serious issues addressed and
the emphasis on faith. In spite of the harsh criticism, the work won the approval of the public.
Paradoxically, Shukshin’s untimely death in October 1974 contributed to its success; the public
linked Egor’s tragedy with that of Shukshin and the author achieved the status of a national hero.
If the work is at times marred by moral platitudes or melodramatic overtones, the overwhelming
impression is of a varied and pacy story-line. More significantly, Shukshin made a valid point
about the loss of spirituality in Soviet Russia. He noticed a void that the deprivation of religion
created, which could not be filled by communist doctrine.