A noted literary scholar traverses the Russian canon, exploring how realists, idealists, and revolutionaries debated good and evil, moral responsibility, and freedom.
Since the age of Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, and Chekhov, Russian literature has posed questions about good and evil, moral responsibility, and human freedom with a clarity and intensity found nowhere else. In this wide-ranging meditation, Gary Saul Morson delineates intellectual debates that have coursed through two centuries of Russian writing, as the greatest thinkers of the empire and then the Soviet Union enchanted readers with their idealism, philosophical insight, and revolutionary fervor.
Morson describes the Russian literary tradition as an argument between a radical intelligentsia that uncompromisingly followed ideology down the paths of revolution and violence, and writers who probed ever more deeply into the human condition. The debate concerned what Russians called “the accursed questions”: If there is no God, are good and evil merely human constructs? Should we look for life’s essence in ordinary or extreme conditions? Are individual minds best understood in terms of an overarching theory or, as Tolstoy thought, by tracing the “tiny alternations of consciousness”? Exploring apologia for bloodshed, Morson adapts Mikhail Bakhtin’s concept of the non-alibi―the idea that one cannot escape or displace responsibility for one’s actions. And, throughout, Morson isolates a characteristic theme of Russian how the aspiration to relieve profound suffering can lead to either heartfelt empathy or bloodthirsty tyranny.
What emerges is a contest between unyielding dogmatism and open-minded dialogue, between heady certainty and a humble sense of wonder at the world’s elusive complexity―a thought-provoking journey into inescapable questions.
Gary Saul Morson is an American literary critic and Slavist. He is particularly known for his scholarly work on the great Russian novelists Leo Tolstoy and Fyodor Dostoevsky, and the literary theorist Mikhail Bakhtin. He is Lawrence B. Dumas Professor of the Arts and Humanities at Northwestern University.
Astonishingly engaging, critically astute, masterfully composed. And I don't dish out heaping praise sloppily. Each calm paragraph by this experienced scholar, a Bakhtin expert, balances insight, furthers reflection, and suggests relevance. Literary innovations and political upheavals preceded us by, as Pushkin's pioneering verse signals, two centuries. My highlights accumulated as I contemplated eerie, daft, reverberating parallels between privileged "activists" 1960s through now and sly revolutionaries ("intelligentsia"~proto-Bolshie coinage) advocating hate "by any means necessary" on a pressganged march towards 'socialism' without our human face, a bloody embrace of Red, ideal, pitiless ideology.
Trained in doctoral research for my "terminal" English lit degree, I'm familiar with tenured protocol Morson practices. What amazes me--among much in these engrossing arguments he patiently, subtly, marshals--emerges from his skill in explication without simplification. By gradually inserting and elucidating core contents germane to, say, the seminal if shoddy utopian potboiler "What Is to Be Done?"
Without recourse to plot summary. Rather, via a guided process of growing familiarity, as the realist tradition of this nation's classic fiction reveals ethical truths teaching us too, today. Through deft, densely assembled, yet vivid, clearly composed chapters, Morson keeps a reader (who in my case confesses an acquaintance with but a short shelf of its classic canon only in translation, if usually on a single go) aware of how his/her progress into analyses of set-texts advances into humane insights.
Therefore, without potted recital, facile theory, or patronizing popularization, perceptibly, a mature and thoughtful perspective on great thinkers of the pre-Soviet span and CCCP regime widens. I felt as if I'd enrolled in his grad seminar at Northwestern. Yet (as if in a diss. dream), I could keep step as a tenderfoot, credit to confidence in a patient professor whose sharp presentation paced itself nimbly.
Its introspective tone, reasoned lessons, and consistent equanimity reward quiet concentration. Ease into these careful interpretations. This isn't a volume to race through. I spaced out portions daily, rather than gulping down rich material beyond my comprehension. A few apt passages will generate intellectual nourishment, and plenty to ruminate. This compresses solid, poised, profound knowledge.
It concludes gracefully, calling up Isaiah Berlin's fox, Bakhtin's prosaics, Chekhov's equanimity, Svetlana Alexievich's dialogues. Life as a modest quest, open-ended. In ambiguity, levity, polyphony: inviting one's search for moral meaning, inarticulate speech of our heart, sensed but "still" inaudible.
Published when he turned 75, in his acknowledgments, he thanks an editor for encouraging him, a decade ago, for shifting from his 19th c. specialty to cover the tumultuous and portentous chaos after. I agree. This tome probably sums up his career. Despite borrowing it for Kindle--easing notetaking-- from the library, I wound up buying it, a token of humble appreciation. to facilitate future reference.
A Constructivist cover design dissuaded me: was that subtitle a craven tagline à la "how the Russians' 'secret history' brays this or saved Western civilization by that" formulaic come-on marketed to dumb down Big Ideas as podcast portions or blog bites? But looking up Morson--who's broadened his range into current events, without betraying intellectual gravitas--I've trusted his wiser bonafides.
P.S. When in 2018 I advised fellow-travellers curious about translations and audiobooks in this genre, I commended Morson's "The Pevearsion of Russian Literature" in Commentary magazine (2010), his critique of "Potemkin" facades set up by Pevear + Volonkhonsky. Long before finding this article, I'd arrived at similar conclusions, if on grounds of instinctive taste, rather than acumen. In "Wonder," he cites renderings by Constance Garnett customarily (although Ann Dunnigan for "War + Peace" 1988).
I did pause to peruse his former collaborator, Princeton's Caryl Emerson (Cambridge Introduction to Russian Literature, 2008; reviewed GR) for coordinates before I plunged deeper. It sketched contexts orienting me. Refreshed, I returned to "Wonder" less prone to my callow hunches or shallow vagaries.
This is Prof Morson's impeccable take on Russian authors and their take on the perennial questions of philosophy. From traditional humanism questions of purpose, happiness and grief to empirical questions on morality and perception, Prof Morson hand holds us through 100 years of answers coming out of Russia.
The book's enlightening detour into the political and social background of 19th century Russia gives us further insight into how famous Russian authors thought about the classic questions of philosophy. I've barely scratched the surface of Russian literature so a lot of references were alien to me but irrespective of that the scholarship in this book leaves a lasting impact and contextualizes the great tradition of Russian literature with the larger global trends of 18th and 19th centuries.
I was particularly fascinated by the concept of Russian Intelligentsia, how the intelligents were not what the word might merely suggest on surface but parts of a broader semi monastic order of orthodox ideologues who advocated for extreme austerities and intense collectivization.
While many of these ideas today might seem blatantly stupid if not outright genocidal, one should be reminded of how the Soviet Union's philosophy of Marxism-Lenninsm had many of the world's great leaders in its thrall and how top down state LED collectivist growth schemes were considered a worthy if not better alternative to American capitalism. It also makes you appreciate how despite sensational levels of coercion and censorship great Russian authors like Tolstoy, Chekhov, Turgenev did use fiction to propose the Bolshevik Party-based philosophy. All in all a great book
One of the best books I have read in a long time. With eloquence and clarity, it demonstrates the power of literature (in this case, mostly Russian literature) to pose the ideas and dilemnas that are the most ponderable in life. Highly, highly recommend.
Addenda: after thinking about it more, although I think there are many good reasons to like this book, perhaps the best for me is this: the allure of finding a defining principle/cause for life is strong; the authors discussed here demonstrate so well the false promise of that. However certain you are, the subtleties of the opposing point of view linger in the background. A life of certainty may be at odds with a life well lived.
Easily one of the most important books I’ve read in a while. Somehow, it succeeds in being:
1) A remarkable argument for the importance of realist novels 2) An introduction to Russian realism, with special importance on Chekhov, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, and Grossman (and the criticism of Bakhtin) 3) An intellectual history of 19th and 20th century Russia, as Morson uses the two poles of Russian literature (revolutionary and realist) to enter into the real-world developments of the last two centuries 4) A philosophical text in its own right. It seems that Morson has taken a few notes from Bakhtin, as he successfully uses literary criticism to present a full-fledged philosophy of life. And, I might add, he makes a compelling case for a certain kind of pluralism.
Couldn’t recommend more highly. I cannot wait to pick up another Morson book—and my next work of Russian realism…when I have a few months to spare…
Morson tackles Russian civilization through merging literary criticism, philosophy, politics and the arts. He is critical of the utopian bent of the Russian Intellectuals and is favorably associated with the big reformers Ivan the Great, Peter the Great and Lenin/Stalin. The big questions; Good and evil, God, progress, are discussed. No real stance is taken regarding Russian national prospects or the future in general.
Amazing! Russian thought has always been rooted in the big questions of life and the soul, the opposite of the refined, polite small talk of Western Europe. Russian authors took a big turn towards the end of the Enlightenment (not to say that they were ever on the same track), which narrowly defined happiness as the sole objective of existence. Professor Morson masterfully explains why this is, citing anecdotes from their unique history and literature. He explores and makes accessible the major themes of Russian literature -- meaning vs. happiness, the value of suffering, the importance of personal freedom and self-determination, how to find belief in a secular world, and many others.
From the book: "The greatest Russian writers do not tell us what life's meaning is, but they show us what the discovery of it looks and feels like. That is because meaning is not a proposition we could learn, as we master the binomial theorem. If there were such a proposition, we would all already know it. It would be the first things we had been taught. In Karamazov Madame Khokhlakova implores Father Zossima to prove that something beyond 'the menacing phenomena of nature'--something truly meaningful--actually exists. 'There's no proving it,' Zossima replies, 'but you can be convinced of it.' The distinction is crucial: some things cannot be adequately addressed from a third-person perspective. Physicalism and materialist philosophy notwithstanding, the world as described 'from nowhere' is incomplete. As it leaves out consciousness, the third-person perspective bypasses meaning. Meaning cannot be learned by scientific demonstration or mathematical proof. Strictly speaking, one does not know it, one senses it; that is why it isn't proved, but rather convinces. And it convinces only if one leads the right sort of life. When Madame Khokhlakova asks exactly what sort of life, Zossima replies: a life of 'active love. Strive to love your neighbor actively and indefatigably. In so far as you advance in love, you will grow surer of the reality of God and of the immortality of your soul. If you attain to perfect self-forgetfulness in the love of your neighbor, then you will believe without doubt.'"
Loaned to me from a friend of my grandparent, and read, more or less, in a week.
The title and subject matter immediately caught my eye. A deep dive into Russian literature with an emphasis on the greats like Tolstoy, Chekhov, and Dostoevsky is something that interests me greatly.
Unfortunately, I ran into the same issue that I have with Nabokov. When an author, or in this case, a professor, is very well learned on a certain subject, they can fall into two pitfalls. The first is a kind of elitism in their prose that suggests that only experts can access the book. In this book, it appears as prose crafted inside an English graduate program. You end up getting the kind of DFW-esque writing that makes reading a painful process.
The second pitfall, and by far the worse one, is the need of the author to condense all of the material in his brain into 500 or so pages. So, there's never a coherent structure to the novel, and it seems like you are being force-fed an entire lit course into just a few pages. Made for a terrible reading experience.
Here's another timeless lesson: a great subject combined with a deep well of knowledge can never save bad writing.
I also think critics are somewhat useless people, but that's beside the point
I was disappointed by this -- too much of it, for my taste, was stuck in a Cold War framing of "Chernyshevsky is bad because he wants revolution and pretends to have certainty and is a bad artist, other and more famous writers are good because they have wonder and ask questions and care about dialogue, and lots of their work is a critique of Chernyshevsky and his epigones." Some major issues that were not addressed: 1) nothing at all about the social history of Russia and why revolution seemed so important, and so necessary. 2) Tolstoy and Dostoevsky were themselves fanatics of a sort! Dostoevsky a crazy anti-Semite, Tolstoy a Christian anarchist. Are they really all that different from Chernyshevsky? I'm not sure, but I don't think that Morson really poses this question properly because he wants, in my read, to turn them into liberals.
I don't want to be mean, Morson is clearly a deeply learned and humane scholar, but this book didn't do it for me.
The subtitle describes the book much better than I ever could do! The author demonstrates how the various major authors of 19th Century Russian literature (especially Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Chekhov, and -- to a lesser extent -- Turgenev) examined life in their novels, depicted life in their novels, and challenged their readers to engage with asking life's questions in their novels. He compares and contrasts these writers with those who followed after in the Soviet years. -- An utterly amazing volume! I suspect the subject matter will limit its broad appeal, but this is a timelessly relevant book: the questions these Russian greats dared to pose have not changed, and we (readers or not) must find our own responses to them. Most highly recommended!
One of my favorite works of literary criticism I’ve read recently. An exploration of the golden age of Russian Literature and its echoes and disconnects with the literature and history of the Soviet Era, how Lenin and Stalin did and did not relate to Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky, and the well and lesser-known lights and how Grossman, Solzhenitsyn, and other Soviet luminaries did and did not channel their Russian antecedents. It’s suffused with discussions of the important questions and how the Russian authors agreed and disagreed on the answers, how their characters interacted with them. An absolute joy to read.
A challenging read for someone who’s read as little of Russian literature as I have. But very interesting. I find Morson’s approach to the realist novel convincing— he thinks it is the best genre of literature for considering ultimate questions.
Finished an insightful investigation of Russian literature and political thought, WONDER CONFRONTS CERTAINTY: RUSSIAN WRITERS ON THE TIMELESS QUESTIONS AND WHY THEIR ANSWERS MATTER (2023), by Gary Saul Morson, professor of humanities at Northwestern University. The peddlers of certainty--19th-century socialists, terrorists, Intelligentsia, Soviet communists Lenin, Trotsky, Stalin--were certain humans would be "happy" if materials produced and owned by the bourgeoisie were redistributed to the working class proletariat. And they were willing to censor, murder, torture, starve, imprison, and exile anyone who dared disagree with them.
Those who resisted them in their writings--the Russian masters of realistic fiction--fostered "wonder," the themes and questions about what it means to be human and what makes life meaningful. Because humans are unique, the answers to those "timeless questions" will be unique, not definitive. Morson emphasizes the "dialogic" thoughts of philosopher, Mikhail Bakhtin. What's important in life is our engaging with one another through conversation: learning from and appreciating each other's infinite variety of life experiences. Russian literature offers its readers the opportunity to "converse" (so to speak) with great writers and their literary characters, and benefit from their weaknesses, failures, strengths, and insights: Tolstoy's Anna Karenina, Dostoevsky's Karamazov brothers, Zamyatin's I-330, Solzhenitsyn's Ivan Denisovich, and many, many more. I found the book very helpful in reframing my own understanding of Russian literature that I've been reading the past three and half years.
An extraordinary book, well worth reading and keeping for second and additional experiences. Amidst a great stand of trees, Gary Saul Morson helped me see the forest in Russian literature. Although a lay person in the humanities, I have enjoyed, indeed loved, nineteenth century, Soviet, and current Russian literature. I have read Anna Karenina five times, War and Peace four times, as well as Turgenev, Oblomov, Chekhov Gogol and Lermontov. Current favorites include Grossman, Pasternak, Sholokhov, Solzhenitsyn, Shishkin, Stepanova, Bulgakov and Ulitskaya. All have allowed me glimpses of the currents and countercurrents in Russian literature, but without Morson’s perspective I failed to recognize the significance of various points of view in Russian thought. In my opinion classic and modern Russian literature is eye-opening for one attempting to understand Russian current political, social, economic and religious efforts (and I might add other expansionist regimes, namely China and Iran) to regain power and prominence once enjoyed. Indeed, as William Faulkner wrote, “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.” Professor Morson is also a philosopher who draws upon literature to reveal conflicting historic forces in personal, societal, and international relations, but leaving it to the reader to consider solutions. In the words of Isaiah, “Come now, and let us reason together.
This book was amazing in so many ways. It clears delineates the difference between the dangerous thinking of the utopians and the profound questioning of the great readers. The first way of thinking leads to the totalitarian horrors of the Soviets and Nazis while the second leads to a deep empathy for each individual. I recently read Prosaics by Professor Morson and Poland to read his other books. I consider him to be an important thinker who adds a lot to literary theory.
Title is slightly click baity (read baity?). Overall very good and broad discussions. The most interesting parts were the juxtaposing how a country that produces such deep writers can also produce things like the Soviet Union, which has always been one of the most interesting parts of Russian history.