Beyond the flesh alexander blok, zinaida gippius, and the symbolist sublimation of sex

Beyond the Flesh



Beyond the Flesh
Alexander Blok, Zinaida Gippius,
and the Symbolist Sublimation of Sex

h
Jenifer Presto

T h e

U n i v e r s i t y

o f

W i s c o n s i n

P r e s s


Publication of this book was made possible with support from the College of Arts and
Sciences at the University of Oregon.
The University of Wisconsin Press
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Copyright © 2008
The Board of Regents of the University of Wisconsin System
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
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without written permission of the University of Wisconsin Press, except in the case of
brief quotations embedded in critical articles and reviews.
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Printed in the United States of America

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Presto, Jenifer.
Beyond the flesh : Alexander Blok, Zinaida Gippius, and the Symbolist sublimation
of sex / Jenifer Presto.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-0-299-22950-4 (cloth : alk. paper)
1. Blok, Aleksandr Aleksandrovich, 1880–1921—Criticism and interpretation.
2. Gippius, Z. N. (Zinaida Nikolaevna), 1869–1945—Criticism and interpretation.
3. Symbolism (Literary movement)—Russia. 4. Sublimation (Psychology) in literature.
5. Sex in literature. I. Title.

PG3453.B6Z69575 2008
891.71'3—dc22 2008011968


For Ruth and Salvatore Presto

h



Yet even if he had loved her, could he have wished for
a more perfect union with his beloved than in these deep
and mysterious caresses, than in the creation of an immortal
image—a new being which was conceived and born of them
like a child is born of its father and mother as if he and she
were one?
Nevertheless, he felt that even in this union, chaste as it
was, there was danger—perhaps greater than in a union
of ordinary carnal love. They both walked on the edge of a
chasm, where nobody had walked before, mastering temptation and the attraction of the abyss.
—Dmitry Merezhkovsky, The Resurrection of the Gods:
Leonardo da Vinci (Voskresshie bogi: Leonardo da-Vinchi) (1901)

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Contents
Illustrations

xi

Acknowledgments

xiii

A Note on Transliteration and Abbreviations
Introduction
Beyond the Flesh: Russian Symbolism and the Sublimation of Sex

xviii

3

I. Poetry against Progeny: Blok and the Problem of
Poetic Reproduction

19

1. Unbearable Burdens: Blok and the Modernist Resistance
to Progeny

21

2. Recurring Nightmares: Blok, Freud, and the Specter of
Die Ahnfrau

41

3. Reproductive Fantasies: Blok and the Creation of

The Italian Verses

70

4. A Time of Troubles: Blok and the Disruption of
Poetic Succession

106

II. Writing against the Body: Gippius and the Problem
of Lyric Embodiment

133

5. Style “Femme”: Gippius and the Resistance to Feminine Writing 135
6. The Dandy’s Gaze: Gippius and Disdainful Desire for
the Feminine
ix

160


x

Contents

7. Eternal Feminine Problems: Gippius, Blok, and the Incarnation
of the Ideal
190
8. Body Trouble: Gippius and the Staging of an Anatomy

of Criticism

217

Afterword
The Return of the Repressed: Illegitimate Babies and an
Unwieldy Body

241

Notes

251

Index

317


Illustrations
Portrait of Alexander Blok by Konstantin Somov

61

Caricature of Zinaida Gippius by Mitrich (Dmitry Togolsky)

158

Portrait of Zinaida Gippius by Léon Bakst

162

Photograph of Zinaida Gippius taken at the Moscow studio of
Otto Renar

198

xi



Acknowledgments
This book on gender and Russian symbolism began as a doctoral dissertation on Zinaida Gippius, written under the direction of James Bailey
and Clare Cavanagh at the University of Wisconsin–Madison. I am extremely grateful to my dissertation co-chairs, as well as to David Bethea,
Judith Kornblatt, Gary Rosenshield, and Yuri Shcheglov, for the advice
and encouragement I received on this project during my years at Wisconsin. At Wisconsin, this project also benefited from the generous support of a University of Wisconsin Dissertation Fellowship and a Social
Science Research Council Dissertation Write-Up Fellowship.
Although three of the chapters in this book started as thesis chapters,
this book would not exist in its present form had it not been for the
support of a number of individuals and institutions. An NEH summer
seminar on gender and identity in Russian literature, led by Stephanie
Sandler at Amherst College, afforded me the opportunity to consider in
a more formal way the implications of gender theory for Russian literature and culture through stimulating discussions with the other members of the seminar. An Andrew W. Mellon Postdoctoral Fellowship in
the Slavic Department at the University of Southern California gave me
the necessary time to begin reconceptualizing the dissertation, as well
as the opportunity to offer a graduate seminar on Russian symbolism.
My interactions with faculty and especially graduate students in Slavic
and comparative literature at USC during that fellowship year and for
several years to come were instrumental in shaping this project. And
a Marilyn Simpson Research Grant in the Humanities at USC allowed

me to make research trips to a number of libraries. But of all the institutional support I have received, I am most indebted to the Comparative
Literature Program and the Russian and East European Studies Center
xiii


xiv

Acknowledgments

at the University of Oregon. My colleagues Anindita Banerjee, Kenneth
Calhoon, Lisa Freinkel, Julie Hessler, Katya Hokanson, Alan Kimball,
Yelaina Kripkov, Leah Middlebrook, and James Rice were most welcoming when I decided to make the move to Oregon. Moreover, Kenneth
Calhoon, then director of the Comparative Literature Program, kindly
granted me a release from teaching my first term at Oregon that allowed
me to complete the revisions to this book.
In addition to these individuals and institutions, there are a number of people who had a direct impact on this book. I am indebted to
Steve Salemson, former associate director of the University of Wisconsin
Press, for taking an interest in the project and to Gwen Walker, acquisitions editor at the press, for remaining committed to the project, as well
as to the deans of the College of Arts and Sciences at Oregon for granting me the necessary research funds to help offset publication costs. I am
extremely grateful to the press’s external reviewers, Catherine Ciepiela,
Sibelan Forrester, and an anonymous reader, for their insightful comments on the manuscript and for their suggestions as to how to improve
it. I am also very thankful to Eliot Borenstein, Clare Cavanagh, and
Stephanie Sandler for generously sharing with me their reactions to the
manuscript as well as to Yelaina Kripkov for helping me to decipher a
number of difficult Russian passages. Besides benefiting from the suggestions of a number of friends and colleagues, this book has been significantly improved by the expertise of several graduate students. Peter
Huk, Elena Vassileva, and Elina Yuffa assisted me with research at the
early stages of the project. Later, Thomas Dolack helped me to reformat
the manuscript, and Alexander Kashirin checked the translations and
the Cyrillic passages for accuracy. Lastly, I must express my gratitude to
Adam Mehring for ushering this book through the production process,

to M. J. Devaney for her meticulous editing, and to Blythe Woolston for
compiling the index.
Several of the chapters in this book appeared in print in an earlier
form: chapter 1 appeared as “Unbearable Burdens: Aleksandr Blok
and the Modernist Resistance to Progeny and Domesticity” (Slavic Review 63, no. 1 [2004]: 6–25); chapter 5 as “The Fashioning of Zinaida
Gippius” (Slavic and East European Journal 42, no. 1 [1998]: 58–75); chapter 6 as “The Androgynous Gaze of Zinaida Gippius” (Russian Literature
48, no. 1 [2000]: 87–115); and chapter 8 as “Reading Zinaida Gippius:
Over Her Dead Body” (Slavic and East European Journal 43, no. 4 [1999]:
621–35). I thank the editors of Slavic Review, published by the American


Acknowledgments

xv

Association for the Advancement of Slavic Studies, of Slavic and East
European Journal, published by the American Association of Teachers
of Slavic and East European Languages, and of Russian Literature, published by Elsevier Science, for granting me permission to reprint this
material in revised form.
Finally, I would like to acknowledge those people who have been
most instrumental in my decision to dedicate myself to Slavic studies.
John Fletcher gave me my first introduction to the Russian language
through the independent study course in Russian that he organized in
the Enfield, Connecticut, school system in conjunction with professors in
the Russian Department at Smith College. Joan Afferica, Maria Nemcová
Banerjee, Alexander Woronzoff-Dashkov, and Igor Zelljadt, my professors in Russian studies at Smith College, nurtured my interest in the
field and have continued to take an interest in my work. David Bethea,
Eliot Borenstein, Clare Cavanagh, and Stephanie Sandler have been encouraging and supportive of my research, even if it has departed from
their own notions of scholarship. Anindita Banerjee, Eliot Borenstein,
Kathleen Dillon, Julie Hessler, Katya Hokanson, Hana Píchová, and

Irina Voskresenskaia have provided me with much needed friendship,
moral support, and intellectual conversation. And my parents, Ruth and
Salvatore Presto, have helped me throughout the years in immeasurable
ways. I owe them the greatest debt of gratitude not only for their unflagging love and support but also for fostering in me a sense of creativity.
I dedicate this book to them.



A Note on Transliteration
and Abbreviations
In order to make this book accessible to readers both outside and inside the Slavic field, I have employed the Library of Congress system of
transliteration in the body of the text with some modifications, rendering the endings -ii and -yi as -y and omitting the Russian soft sign. In
those instances where a close English equivalent exists for Russian first
names, I have opted for the English variant. I also use the conventional
spellings of well-known Russian authors’ surnames. However, I have
followed the standard Library of Congress system when transliterating information that would be essential for specialists: namely, Russian
titles, quotations, and all bibliographic information in the notes, including authors’ names.
All translations are mine unless otherwise indicated in the notes. For
the sake of economy, I have included most references to the works of
Blok and Gippius within the body of text rather than in the notes. Below
is a list of abbreviations of the primary texts from which I cite:
BBB

Aleksandr Blok-Andrej Belyj, Briefwechsel (Munich: Wilhelm
Fink, 1969)

Dnev

Zinaida Gippius, Dnevniki, ed. A. N. Nikoliukin, 2 vols.
(Moscow: NPK Intelvak, 1999)

IIA

Temira Pachmuss, ed., Intellect and Ideas in Action: Selected
Correspondence of Zinaida Hippius (Munich: Wilhelm Fink,
1972)

xvii


xviii

A Note on Transliteration and Abbreviations

PABR M. A. Beketova and V. A. Desnitskii, eds., Pis’ma Aleksandra
Bloka k rodnym, 2 vols. (Leningrad: Akademiia, 1927, 1932)
PBKh

Zinaida Gippius, Pis’ma k Berberovoi i Khodasevichu, ed. Erika
Freiberger Sheikholeslami (Ann Arbor, Mich.: Ardis,
1978)

SS

Aleksandr Blok, Sobranie sochinenii v vos’mi tomakh, ed.
V. N. Orlov, A. A. Surkov, and K. I. Chukovskii, 8 vols.
(Moscow-Leningrad: Gos. izd-vo khudozhestvennoi lit-ry,
1960–63)

Soch

Zinaida Gippius, Sochineniia: Stikhotvoreniia, proza,
ed. K. M. Azadovskii and A. V. Lavrov (Leningrad:
Khudozhestvennaia literatura, 1991)

Stikh

Zinaida Gippius, Stikhotvoreniia, ed. A. V. Lavrov (St.
Petersburg: Akademicheskii proekt, 1999)

ZK

Aleksandr Blok, Zapisnye knizhki, 1901–1920, ed. V. N. Orlov
(Moscow: Khudozhestvennaia literatura, 1965)

ZL

Zinaida Gippius, Zhivye litsa, ed. A. N. Nikoliukin (Moscow:
OLMA-PRESS, 2002)


Beyond the Flesh



Introduction
Beyond the Flesh: Russian Symbolism
and the Sublimation of Sex

Ordinarily the meaning of sexual love is supposed to lie in

the propagation of the species, for which it serves as a means.
I consider this view incorrect—not merely on the basis of any
theoretical considerations, but above all on the basis of facts of
natural history. That propagation of living creatures may take
place without sexual love is already clear from the fact that it
does take place without division into sexes. A significant portion
of organisms both of the vegetable and of the animal kingdom
propagates in a non-sexual fashion: by segmentation, budding,
spores and grafting. It is true that higher forms of both organic
kingdoms propagate by the sexual method, but the organisms
which propagate in this fashion, vegetable as well as animal in
part, may likewise propagate in a non-sexual fashion (grafting
in the vegetable world, parthenogenesis in the higher insects).
Moreover, setting this aside, and recognizing as a general rule
that the higher organisms propagate by means of sexual union,
we are bound to conclude that this sexual factor is connected not
with propagation in general (which may take place also apart
from it), but with the propagation of higher organisms.
Vladimir Soloviev, The Meaning of Love (Smysl liubvi) (1892–94)

Until recently, scholars have been resistant to acknowledge the importance of the role of gender and the body in Russian modernism.1
To some extent, this reluctance to make the body part of the corpus
of Slavic criticism can be attributed to the fact that many of the early
Russian modernists, influenced by the antiprocreative theories of the
nineteenth-century Russian religious philosopher and poet Vladimir
3


4

Introduction

Soloviev, demonstrated an ambivalent attitude toward the body and
sexuality that has reinforced the tendency among Slavists to privilege the metaphysical over the physical and the otherworldly over the
bodily. So pervasive, in fact, was the skepticism about matters of the
flesh among some of the Russian symbolists that it might be argued that
they were preoccupied with the eradication of sex. For instance, in her
essay “Amorousness” (“Vliublennost’”) (1904), the symbolist poet Zinaida Gippius dedicates herself to an explication of what her husband
Dmitry Merezhkovsky had identified as “‘the transfiguration of sex into
a new Christian amorousness’” (Dnev, 1:258). “In genuine amorousness,
even of today, which has barely arisen in humanity and is still powerless,” she contends, “the very question of sex already melts and dissolves; the contradiction between soul and body disappears, leaving no
place for struggle, and sufferings ascend to that height where they must
turn into happiness” (Dnev, 1:260). Gippius intimates here that the tensions between body and soul would necessarily wither away once the
sublime state of amorousness was achieved.2 Yet, in spite of the markedly utopian orientation of the Merezhkovskys’ notion of sublimated
eros, Gippius’s own poetic practices would seem to reinforce the notion
that the question of sex remained unresolved and that body and soul
were destined to remain in constant conflict. She continually pitted the
body against the soul, the ethereal against the material, not only in her
artistic writings but also in her everyday life, and, in this regard, she was
not unique.
Among the symbolist works, Merezhkovsky’s historical novel The
Resurrection of the Gods: Leonardo da Vinci (Voskresshie bogi: Leonardo daVinchi) (1901) may be the most influential artistic expression of sublimated eros. In this novel, which constitutes the second part of his trilogy
Christ and Antichrist (Khristos i antikhrist) (1905), he presents a portrait of
the Renaissance artist that was to have a profound effect on Sigmund
Freud. In Leonardo da Vinci and a Memory of His Childhood (Eine Kindheitserinnerung des Leonardo da Vinci) (1910), Freud expounds on the idea, articulated nearly a decade earlier by the Russian symbolist, that Leonardo’s
prodigious accomplishments in the realm of art and science were made
possible by his denial of ordinary carnal love.3 “In reality,” Freud observes, “Leonardo was not devoid of passion; he did not lack the divine
spark which is directly or indirectly the driving force—il primo motore—
behind all human activity. He had merely converted his passion into a
thirst for knowledge; he then applied himself to investigation with the

Beyond the Flesh

5

persistence, constancy and penetration which is derived from passion,
and at the climax of intellectual labour, when knowledge had been won,
he allowed the long restrained affect to break loose and to flow away
freely, as a stream of water drawn from a river is allowed to flow when
its work is done.”4
Although in recent years Freud’s psychoanalytic reading of da Vinci
has clearly eclipsed Merezhkovsky’s novelistic rendering, it is Merezhkovsky and his fellow Russian symbolists who can be credited with
putting into practice a distinctly symbolist notion of sublimated eros.
Similar, in some ways, to the writers, artists, and intellectuals associated
with the Bloomsbury group in London, the Russian symbolists were
involved in untraditional unions that privileged artistic creativity over
procreation and were often tolerant of extramarital affairs, both heterosexual and homosexual in nature. This was the case not only for Gippius and Merezhkovsky, who were involved for many years in a mystical ménage-à-trois with Dmitry Filosofov, but also for other famous
symbolist couples such as Alexander Blok and Liubov Mendeleeva and
Viacheslav Ivanov and Lydia Zinovieva-Annibal. The writers’ fascination with sublimated love influenced not just their unorthodox marriage
practices and their views about childbearing but also the ways in which
they envisioned the creative process.5 Although symbolist writers such
as Konstantin Balmont and Valery Briusov, who were more inclined
toward the decadent mode, sought inspiration for their art in ecstatic
moments or migi, many of the other writers found creative inspiration in
the obverse, that is to say, the denial of procreation and the body.6
This book is devoted to an examination of the latter creative method,
a method I am calling the symbolist sublimation of sex, drawing on
Gippius and Merezhkovsky’s notion of sublimated eros as well as
on Freud’s more or less contemporaneous psychoanalytic concept of

artistic sublimation.7 By employing this term to describe the symbolists’ creative project, I do not mean to imply that Russian symbolism
“was merely filling the same roles and performing the same sociocultural and psychological functions that psychoanalysis had come to fill
in German- and English-speaking countries,” as Alexander Etkind has
recently suggested in his discussion of psychoanalysis and Russian
modernism in Eros of the Impossible: A History of Psychoanalysis in Russia
(Eros nevozmozhnogo: Istoriia psikhoanaliza v Rossii) (1993). Rather I want
to point to the fact the Russian symbolists were engaged in a particular
modernist enterprise that was concerned with transcending the problems of gender and sexuality.8 This study maintains, however, that while


6

Introduction

the symbolists displayed a great deal of skepticism about procreation
and the body, typical as Freud would argue of creative artists in general
and as Edward Said would claim of modernists in particular, they were
not content merely with thinking through the body in their essays and
philosophical writings.9 Instead, they actively sought to work through
their problems with the body by forging a creative link between their
erotic lives and their artistic works. In such a fashion, they created a
modernist poetics that paradoxically ended up putting the figure of the
body—if not the body itself—at the center of artistic practice.
But while the symbolists can be credited with putting the figure of the
body at the center of artistic discourse, it would be overstating matters
to claim that they were only engaged in the merging of art and life, body
and text, or corpus and corps. Since the appearance of the poet Vladislav
Khodasevich’s important essay on Russian symbolism, “The End of Renata” (“Konets Renaty”) (1928), which shows how the plot of Briusov’s
novel The Fiery Angel (Ognennyi angel) (1908) coalesced with the tragic
love triangle involving Briusov, Andrei Bely, and the lesser-known

decadent writer Nina Petrovskaia, it has become somewhat of a critical
commonplace to assert that all the Russian symbolists were involved
in the blurring of the boundaries between art and life known as zhiznetvorchestvo, or life creation. “The symbolists,” Khodasevich claimed, “did
not want to separate the writer from the person, the literary biography
from the personal. Symbolism did not want to be just an artistic school
or a literary movement. All of the time it attempted to be a life-creating
method, and in this was perhaps its greatest unfulfilled truth, but its
entire history, in essence, flowed toward this truth.”10 Although Khodasevich’s model of life creation can explain certain aspects of symbolist
aesthetic practice, such as the tendency among some writers to emplot
their lives within their artistic narratives, it does not account for the full
range of the symbolists’ mythmaking methods. Many of the symbolists
were just as concerned with pitting art against life and creativity against
procreation as they were with conflating art and life, and oftentimes
these two seemingly antithetical impulses could exist simultaneously
and to varying degrees within any one artist. This antagonistic relationship between the symbolists and the events of real life is something that
has sometimes been glossed over in contemporary criticism on Russian
symbolism, but it was central to the movement and should be acknowledged as an important variation on Khodasevich’s formulation of life
creation. And one of the key ways in which this antagonism manifested