The Captive and the Gift: Cultural Histories of Sovereignty in Russia and the Caucasus

by Bruce Grant

The Caucasus region of Eurasia, wedged in between the Black and Caspian Seas, encompasses the modern territories of Armenia, Azerbaijan, and Georgia, as well as the troubled republic of Chechnya in southern Russia. A site of invasion, conquest, and resistance since the onset of historical record, it has earned a reputation for fearsome violence and isolated mountain redoubts closed to outsiders. Over extended efforts to control the Caucasus area, Russians have long mythologized stories of their countrymen taken captive by bands of mountain brigands. In The Captive and the Gift, the anthropologist Bruce Grant explores the long relationship between Russia and the Caucasus and the means by which sovereignty has been exercised in this contested area. Taking his lead from Aleksandr Pushkin's 1822 poem "Prisoner of the Caucasus," Grant explores the extraordinary resonances of the themes of violence, captivity, and empire in the Caucasus through mythology, poetry, short stories, ballet, opera, and film. Grant argues that while the recurring Russian captivity narrative reflected a wide range of political positions, it most often and compellingly suggested a vision of Caucasus peoples as thankless, lawless subjects of empire who were unwilling to acknowledge and accept the gifts of civilization and protection extended by Russian leaders. Drawing on years of field and archival research, Grant moves beyond myth and mass culture to suggest how real-life Caucasus practices of exchange, by contrast, aimed to control and diminish rather than unleash and increase violence. The result is a historical anthropology of sovereign forms that underscores how enduring popular narratives and close readings of ritual practices can shed light on the management of pluralism in long-fraught world areas.

Genres: History, Russia

216 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2009

Reviews

[Becca Levy · Rating 3 out of 5]

I liked the anthropological style of it - I had never really read historical anthropology before. It's very different from, say, linguistic anthropology. My main critique was that the author really didn't use many sources that were actually FROM the Caucuses. It seemed like the sources were mostly just Russian, which felt a little weird to me. If the goal is to understand the Caucuses, why are all the sources from the colonizers? It kind of seems like Grant just doesn't speak the languages he would need to read more Caucasian sources.

[Pfredrick · Rating 4 out of 5]

In my studies of Russia and the Caucasus, I have found Bruce Grant’s "The Captive and the Gift" to be extremely useful in grasping how Russians historically have come to understand their place in the Caucasus. As the book’s title suggests, Grant specifically delves into how the concepts of “captivity” and “gift-giving” have shaped “the last 200 years of Russian relations in the Caucasus” (pg. xiii).
In order to discuss the concept of captivity, Grant explores a plethora of Russian literary and cinematic works with plot lines involving someone being held captive in the Caucasus. Using classic pieces like Pushkin’s poem “Prisoner of the Caucasus” and Tolstoy’s short story “A Prisoner of the Caucasus,” as well as contemporary Russian films like 1996’s "Prisoner of the Mountains," Grant reveals how the concept of the noble, Russian soldier being held prisoner by Caucasians has become a fundamental part of the Russian outlook towards the Caucasus. Also, Grant’s decision to give a chronological list of examples drawn from Russian entertainment made a significant impact on my understanding of the topic. After reading this book, Grant’s argument that “the prisoner cycle enacts an art of emplacement by which Russian actors…generate a symbolic economy of belonging in the Caucasus” was quite clear (pg. 94).
The second concept Grant discusses is the “gift.” Throughout the book, Grant explains how Russians chose to define their occupation of the Caucasus as “gifting civilization” to the needy, inferior groups of Caucasian peoples who were (according to the Russians) unable to advance without the help of Russia. With this mindset, Grant proposes that Russians saw themselves not as occupiers, but rather as benevolent helpers of the Caucasians. To prove his claim, Grant offers ample evidence, beginning with the tsarist “gift of empire” and continuing on with the gifting of “hospitals, schools, and houses of culture” in Soviet times (pg. 41). These examples all helped to highlight the validity of Grant’s argument concerning Russia’s belief in its own superiority and moral greatness--traits historically used by Russia to justify its involvement in the region..
In this review, I focused mostly on how the book explains the Russian point of view on the Caucasus situation. While Grant does devote sections of his book explaining how the concept of “gift-giving” and Russian occupation have impacted the lives of Caucasian peoples, I personally believe the strength of the book lies in its content about the Russian experience. That being said, the book’s section about “Caucasian Reflections” is informative, clear, and useful for gaining a broader understanding of the region as a whole.
So, by using Russian literary works and films, Grant argues how, in his own words, the “consistent theme[s] of innocence abroad and the noble burdens of giving” have shaped the Russian mindset concerning the Caucasus (pg. 95). After reading the book, I have come to a better understanding of how and why Russians see their presence in the Caucasus as they do. Grant set up the book in an organized way that is easily followed. The book is not a quick read, but it offers great insight, proving itself beneficial to students of Russian history and recreational readers alike.

[Mackenzie Szymanek · Rating 4 out of 5]

In his book, The Captive and the Gift, Bruce Grant examines the relationship between Russia and the Caucasus by dissecting the complex “gift of civilization” and its consequent effects. He further argues that in order to “fully understand sovereignty and its many varied practices, one needs to consider how the taking of lives, lands, and resources could so quickly be narrated as forms of giving” (xiii). Rather than focusing on this issue solely through the Russian point of view, as is often done, Grant chooses to dig even deeper. He achieves this not only by relying on historical record and field research, but also by analyzing cultural works such as myths, pieces of literature, and film adaptations.

Starting with the story of Prometheus, Grant examines “the burdens of giving” and the ways in which attention is usually paid to exiled bodies (10). He then traces these themes through famous captivity tales like Pushkin’s Prisoner of the Caucasus and the many adaptations that came out of it. To him, these narratives remain incomplete without also taking into account the “longer-standing histories…of theft, gift, and kidnapping in the Caucasus,” so part of the book is also dedicated to explaining known practices in the region, like bride kidnapping and the exchange of bodies to settle blood feuds (17). In looking at these traditions, Grant argues that they clearly involve a certain level of ritual (as well as a code of conduct) that is often not taken into account by Russians and the world at large.

A large portion of The Captive and the Gift is also dedicated to dissecting language, particularly the way invading entities like to portray themselves as gift givers rather than conquerors. For me, this was one of the strongest parts of the book. Grant’s analysis of the conquering country’s use of language is complex, yes, but also well thought out and explained in a very understandable way. I also appreciated that he took a moment to step away from his focus on Russia and the Caucasus and examine how taking became framed as giving by an empire that might be slightly more recognizable to the average reader – that of England and Queen Elizabeth I. All in all, I enjoyed this book. Not only did it help me understand the relationship between the Caucasus and Russian on a much deeper level, but the book was also fairly easy to read. Unlike similar books that I have read in the past, Grant moved beyond simply exploring historical fact, and included resources from multiple disciplines as well, adding new layers to his argument.

[Kate Hendrickson · Rating 4 out of 5]

In Bruce Grant’s novel, The Captive and the Gift, he attempt to tackle the complicated relationship between Russia and the Caucasus region by investigating the histories that surround this region. Grant’s book begins and ends with the legend of Prometheus. Prometheus is an ancient Greek god who was banished to the mountains of the Caucasus and was punished by being chained to a rock and having an eagle come and eat his liver for it to only regrow every day in time for the eagle come eat it again. Grant uses Prometheus as the ultimate example of sacrifice that the people of the Caucasus region value. This metaphor runs throughout the entire book and is a constant reminder of the attitude that embodies the Caucasus.
Another metaphor that Grant uses is the image of the knot that represents the entanglement of the Caucasus region and Russia. Similar to this knot, Grant weaves the histories of the two regions’ involvement with each other and proves that these two histories are tied so tightly together that it is impossible to try and detangle the two. Grant also uses the knot metaphor to enhance the idea that these two regions cannot, no matter how hard they try, stay away from each other. Although there has been an intense, very violent history surrounding these two regions, Grant uses the idea of sacrifice and giving to note that they have also benefitted each other in many ways. Grant notes that many Soviet/Russian leaders were born in various Caucasian counties, including the infamous Joseph Stalin. And although Russia has had a constant, almost suffocating presence in the Caucasus region, that presence provided much needed protection from outside groups. Taking all of this under consideration, it is clear why Grant chose the knot metaphor, and it is effective in attempting to explain this complicated and involved relationship between the two regions.
In wrapping up the book, Grant returns to the tale of Prometheus and notes how these tales, along with those of Pushkin and Tolstoy, only brush the surface of the relationship. However, if read close enough, these stories can be the key in fully understanding this region.