The title (taken from Anna Akhmatova’s christening of a group of her students) could’ve just as easily been *The Mystical Chorus.* Volkov persuasively shows the requisite religious fervor with which art has been pursued in Russia since Tolstoy--an issue that is reigns relevant, as Putin/Medvedev tighten their grip over current Russian culture and media.
For a State that was officially "sans religion," headed by a government that dealt with artists as violently as any persecuted religion (Andropov, the head of the KGB under Brezhnev and, later, General Secretary of the Communist Party in the early 80s, employed the terms “culture” and “ideology” synonymously), pursuing art in Soviet Russia was akin to practicing a forbidden religion or being a political dissident. As Louis Menand points out in his foreword to the NYRB's edition of *To the Finland Station,* history, too, took on a religion-like status in this supposedly (and violently) secular society: "[History:] was an idea indistinguishable from faith, and for many people Marx was its prophet." (p. xiii)
As seminal of a role as art plays in my life, it’s hard imagine the extent of the commitment an artist had to make in pursuing their work under the eyes of the KGB and the Soviet State. Volkov does a wonderful job illuminating innumerable artists’ struggles and the significance of their work, often exposing artists that never found their way into deserved recognition in the West.
Volkov’s knowledge of Russian culture is immense and personal, which makes for a rich study. He also avoids the trap of stale historiography by following the breadcrumb trail of themes, artists, and genres, rather than sticking to a chronological trajectory. This can feel a bit tangential and be hard to follow at times, but, as a whole, I preferred his style to a more “traditional” history narrative, as it often feels more like listening in on an impassioned conversation, rather than reading a historical text.
While essentially a gloss on what seems like every major and secondary artist in Russia since Tolstoy, I’m not sure that this is the place to start for readers that are just beginning their study of twentieth century Russian culture, as I sometimes had a hard time digesting the minutiae all the while keeping the “big picture” in mind, and I have studied a fair bit of Russian history and culture. That said, Volkov’s wit (kudos to Antonina Bouis, the translator, for conveying this), forceful opinions (biographical bits are often almost gossipy at times), and vast knowledge of the subject matter, make *The Magical Chorus* a wonderful read.