Konstantin Nikolaevich Leont'ev was a Russian writer, philosopher, critic, and publicist. Like almost all important nineteenth-century Russian authors, Leont'ev came from a family of landowners. He was trained in medicine at the University of Moscow and served for three years as an army doctor in the Crimean war. After the war he took the post of family doctor on a country estate in the province of Nizhnii-Novgorod, married, and published his first novel, Podlipki (1861). In 1863 he entered the Russian diplomatic service and worked for eight years as a consular official on the island of Crete and the Balkans. After a cure from dysentery, he underwent a spiritual crisis and spent a year (1871–1872) in a Greek monastery on Mount Athos. Soon after he left the consular service, and he returned to Russia where he worked as a journalist in various cities and a censor of literature in Moscow. In 1887 he decided to renounce the secular world, was officially divorced from his wife, and retired to the Optyna Pustyn' cloister in the province of Tula. Shortly before his death he took monastic vows and died a monk in the Trinity-St. Sergius Monastery near Moscow.
Although Leont'ev can be considered one of the brilliant representatives of nineteenth-century Russian culture, on a par with Alexander Herzen, his work is not very well known. His novels and stories have hardly been translated and his philosophical and political views only scantily studied. The main reason for this seems to be his odd, maverick-like personality, which expressed itself in views so paradoxical and extreme that it is almost impossible to weld them together and to integrate them with the main ideas of his age.
Leont'ev was torn between an amoral aestheticism and the intense desire for saving his soul by the ascetic renunciation of the world. The protagonist of almost all his novels (among which, apart from Podlipki, V svoem kraiu [In my own land, 1864], and Egipetskii golub' [The Egyptian dove, 1881–1882]) is a narcissistic superhero (more or less identical with Leont'ev himself) who takes delight in all things beautiful and considers it his duty to lead a poetic life. "Ethics does not coincide with aesthetics: otherwise it is impossible to approve the beauty of Alcibiades, of a diamond, of a tiger." Which is better: "the bloody and spiritually exuberant age of the Renaissance, or contemporary Denmark, Holland, Switzerland—humble, prosperous, moderate?" (Sobranie sochinenii, Vol. I, p. 282; 414). However, the hero is dissatisfied with his actual self as he realizes his own limitations and the vanity of his sensuous experience and of the world he has enjoyed so much.
It is this latter attitude that made Leont'ev severely criticize contemporary writers such as Fëdor Dostoevsky, Lev Tolstoy, and Vladimir Solov'ëv. In the essay "Nashi novye khristiane: F. M. Dostoevskii i graf Lev Tolstoi" ("Our new Christians: F. M. Dostoevsky and Count Lev Tolstoy, 1882) he ridiculed the rose-colored Christianity of these authors. By promising paradise on earth (just like the utopian socialists), Leont'ev stated, they introduced heretical, humanistic elements into their religious views, making God a diluted God of love instead of a God of fear. However, in another essay he made a brilliant analysis of Tolstoy's novels, in particular praising War and Peace.
Leont'ev is best known for his aesthetic approach to history and his uncompromising criticism of his own age, which according to him, was dominated by equality and its unavoidable counterpart mediocrity. Just as such thinkers as de Maistre, Comte Joseph de Maistre, Thomas Carlyle, Friedrich Nietzsche, and John Stuart Mill, Leont'ev rejected the industrial revolution of the nineteenth century, which had led to democracies in which there was no place for great men and intense, creative contradictions. In his collection of essays Vostok, Rossiia i slavianstvo (The East, Russia, and Slavdom, 1885–1886), which includ
Konstantin Leontiev’s Against the Current (Protiv Techeniya) is a provocative and intellectually rich collection of essays that challenges the dominant liberal and progressive ideologies of the 19th century. A prominent figure in Russian conservative thought, Leontiev remains a controversial and often underappreciated philosopher whose works grapple with questions of culture, civilization, and morality. In Against the Current, Leontiev critiques the rapid modernization and Westernization of Russia, advocating instead for the preservation of cultural distinctiveness, religious orthodoxy, and hierarchical social structures.
At its core, the book reflects Leontiev’s belief in the cyclical nature of civilizations, a concept he developed in response to Western theories of linear progress. Drawing on historical and cultural analysis, Leontiev argues that societies pass through three stages: simplicity, flourishing complexity, and eventual degeneration into homogenized mediocrity. For Leontiev, the Western model of liberal democracy, with its emphasis on individualism and equality, represents the final, degenerative phase of civilization. He warns that Russia, by emulating the West, risks losing its spiritual and cultural identity.
One of the strengths of Against the Current is its incisive critique of liberal universalism. Leontiev challenges the Enlightenment ideal of progress, questioning whether the pursuit of equality and material prosperity truly leads to human flourishing. His reflections on the dangers of cultural homogenization and the erosion of spiritual values resonate with contemporary debates about globalization and cultural preservation. Leontiev’s emphasis on the aesthetic and moral dimensions of civilization sets his work apart from more materialist analyses, offering a perspective that is both philosophical and deeply personal.
The essays in this collection also highlight Leontiev’s literary prowess. His writing combines sharp analytical insights with vivid and often poetic language, reflecting his background as both a thinker and a novelist. Leontiev’s metaphors, such as his comparison of civilizations to organic entities that grow, blossom, and decay, illustrate his ideas with striking clarity.
However, Against the Current is not without its limitations. Leontiev’s staunch conservatism and rejection of liberal values can alienate readers who view progress and equality as non-negotiable principles. Moreover, his tendency toward cultural pessimism and his admiration for authoritarian structures may be seen as reactionary, even by contemporary conservative standards. While his critique of Western liberalism is compelling, his vision of an ideal society—rooted in orthodoxy, autocracy, and a rigid social hierarchy—raises important ethical and practical questions.
From a scholarly perspective, the book is a valuable resource for understanding the intellectual currents of late Imperial Russia and the broader conservative reaction against modernity. Leontiev’s ideas, while controversial, are an essential part of the intellectual history that shaped Russian thought in the 19th and 20th centuries. His influence can be traced in the works of later thinkers such as Ivan Ilyin and contemporary proponents of Russian Eurasianism.
In terms of structure, Against the Current is a collection of essays, which allows readers to engage with Leontiev’s ideas on a variety of topics, from aesthetics and politics to religion and culture. While this format provides breadth, it can also feel disjointed at times, lacking the cohesive argumentation of a single monograph. Nonetheless, the diversity of topics makes the book an engaging and multifaceted read.
In conclusion, Against the Current is a significant contribution to the canon of Russian conservative thought. It offers a profound and often unsettling critique of liberal modernity, inviting readers to reconsider the assumptions underlying Western cultural and political values. For scholars of Russian intellectual history, political philosophy, and cultural theory, Leontiev’s work provides a challenging yet rewarding perspective on the tensions between tradition and modernity.