In this thought-provoking book, an internationally acclaimed scholar writes about the passion for ideology among nineteenth- and twentieth-century Russian intellectuals and about the development of sophisticated critiques of ideology by a continuing minority of Russian thinkers inspired by libertarian humanism. Aileen Kelly sets the conflict between utopian and anti-utopian traditions in Russian thought within the context of the shift in European thought away from faith in universal systems and "grand narratives" of progress toward an acceptance of the role of chance and contingency in nature and history.
In the current age, as we face the dilemma of how to prevent the erosion of faith in absolutes and final solutions from ending in moral nihilism, we have much to learn from the struggles, failures, and insights of Russian thinkers, Kelly says. Her essays―some of them tours de force that have appeared before as well as substantial new studies of Turgenev, Herzen, and the Signposts debate―illuminate the insights of Russian intellectuals into the social and political consequences of ideas of such seminal Western thinkers as Schopenhauer, Nietzsche, and Darwin.
"Both critics and admirers of Russian thinkers have remarked on their tendency to develop Western ideas to their logical (and often absurd) extremes." (p 6) I have to agree on some level, but isn't that the definition of scientific thinking? The Germans jump-started metaphysics in the 19th century, but it was the Russians who carried it through. I'm trying to speak apolitically if that's even possible here. This collection of essays is meant to mirror Herzen's From Another Shore and to some extent Dostoevsky's A Writer's Diary, both of which were ominously prescient of Russia's 20th century.
Of the four sections in the volume, I enjoyed the second most, "Insights and Ambivalences" for its literary criticism and conversation about Dostoevsky, Tolstoy and Turgenev. "The Chaotic City" is fascinating and a worthy chapter for a fan of St. Petersburg's intellectual history.
In the third section, the chapter on Bakunin the anarchist is fascinating. "We will become our true selves only when the whole world is engulfed in fire." As an archetypal nihilist and rebel, he was a man of vocal angst and auditory vigor with no action. I enjoyed learning about empiriocriticism and Lenin's stand against it. Kelly proves that at the turn of the century, there were still very few Bolsheviks and Social Democrats in Russia, and the intelligentsia still had a rather strong grip on reality. For them, the autocracy had larger faults than socialist democracy, but they knew neither were perfect.
The one thing that really set apart the wiser of Russian writers was pluralism, and Herzen seems to have been a true pluralist. He wasn't a pessimist like Schopenhauer or Nietzsche, nor an optimist, but more of an "anti-pessimist." (p 327)
My only gripes about the book are usual ones for a set of essays on a theme. Kelly shows bias from time to time, as in her small mentions of Nietzsche and Freud without exposition. There's a bit of redundancy and over-explanation in areas, making this a slow read. Also, I wish I'd heard more on Dostoevsky's maniacal nationalism, Turgenev's anti-nationalism, and Herzen's personal life and his publications. All aside, for a Russian philosophy enthusiast, this book is an orgy. I look forward to the sequel Views From the Other Shore.