Of White Whales and Brazen Cavalry: Understanding The Bronze Horseman through Melville.

Running throughout the verse of Alexander Pushkin's The Bronze Horseman, are themes of power and control, and an effort by the main character Evgeny to defy them. These themes of natural, earthly authority, and divine control are also found within the text of Herman Melville's American epic Moby Dick, as well as Captain Ahab's struggle with them. A knowledge and understanding of the themes inherent to Moby Dick, allows a Western reader to more fully understand The Bronze Horseman.

In Pushkin's poem, the first conflict that Evgeny is affronted with is the control that nature holds with its seemingly unstoppable forces. The primary natural contributor to his problem is the great flood of Saint Petersburg. Right at the beginning, Pushkin reveals that this is based on an actual flood that happened, and how he used newspaper articles to accurately portray the ordeal. This storm and the resulting flood are referenced and described right at the beginning of Part I, even before the main character, Evgeny is introduced to the poem. Because the storm is described in such detail early on in the poem, it allows the reader to develop an idea of the setting in which the narrative takes place. This is especially true because the description of the storm immediately follows the introduction of the poem, which details the city of Saint Petersburg itself, including its proximity to the sea. This is similar to how Melville opens Moby Dick, with a description of water and the vital role that it plays within the human condition. This philosophical discourse on water is acts for the benefit of the story much the same as the description of the storm in Pushkin's work. It sets up the story for the reader, and gives them a setting to place the story in. It also hints at what might events are to follow. If a Western reader is familiar with the role that water plays in Moby Dick, they might see the effect that the storm will have beforehand.

This theme of natural power is again developed by Pushkin further on in the poem, when he describes the storm in detail after the introduction of Evgeny into the story. The storm, and the effects that it has on the city, create a vivid picture of destruction of an unbridled natural force. Nature is made to be some sort of antagonist against Evgeny. This is the same in Moby Dick when Melville depicts the white whale, Moby Dick as a terrible beast. Since whales are natural creatures, the whale's wrath is in a sense an unleashed force of nature like the storm in The Bronze Horseman. Melville writes “...there was enough in the earthly make and incontestable character of the monster to strike the imagination with unwonted power.”, this shows that although Moby Dick has a level of spiritual significance which will be discussed later, he is a creature of this earth, and like the storm completely natural. In The Bronze Horseman, Pushkin turns the storm into an anthropomorphism of a bandit to show the devastation that it causes to the city as it sweeps to and fro. Again, a reader who is familiar to Moby Dick would recognize these same qualities given to the whale.

As a character, Evgeny is somewhat similar to the hero of Melville's Moby Dick, Captain Ahab. Both men are heroes in the sense that they are the main character in their respective stories. This does not mean however, that they are filled with goodwill and deeds as is typically associated with the term. Of these men, Ahab is definitely the darkest. Evgeny seems to be just a normal man in the wrong place at the wrong time. Pushkin writes that the storm washed away Evgeny's house, which apart from his lover Parasha, is really all that he possessed. Here in lies the similarity to Moby Dick and Captain Ahab. Ahab too has a wife away at home that he leaves to go on his quest, and the natural force of the story, Moby Dick, took from Ahab his leg on a previous voyage. While the loss of a leg may not seem to be a complete and utter loss such as what Evgeny lost, it is described how the loss of his leg damaged Ahab much more deeply than just a severed limb. Melville writes that “Ahab and anguish lay stretched together in one hammock, rounding in mid winter that dreary, howling Patagonian Cape; then it was, that his torn body and gashed soul bled into one another; and so interfusing, made him mad.”. This utter anguish and hate that Ahab felt towards the whale, resulted in an absolute loss of humanity which is, similar to the destruction of Evgeny's home at the hands of the gale. If a Western reader is attempting to understand the utter contempt that Evgeny expresses as is captured by Pushkin, it helps to make a parallel with that and the fiery wrath of Ahab against Moby Dick.

Since both Ahab and Evgeny are both overcome with a passionate rage due to great loss, they both create a scapegoat figure to place blame upon. In Ahab's case, the blame for his injury is put solely on the wrinkled white brow of the Moby Dick. He becomes so wholly obsessed with vengeance for the loss of his leg, that he eventually forfeits his ship and the lives of his crew in order to satisfy his lust for revenge. It also seems that Ahab also sold his soul to the devil in order that his quest be fulfilled, as is evidenced by the ominous presence of his personal boat crew. These men are described as being devils, descendants of the children that were begotten when angels had relations with the daughters of men, as is described in Genesis. In this way, it seems that Ahab's anger is directed somewhat at God as well. Comparatively, Evgeny's anger is less directed at first, whereby he runs aimlessly around the city until he comes to a halt at the foot of the Bronze Horseman statue. When he sees the statue of Peter the Great looking out across the Neva with arm extended, he realizes that Peter is to blame for his loss. The geographical location of Saint Petersburg is the reason for the floods and poor weather, and the terrible storm is the reason for Evgeny's loss. Evgeny is angry at Peter for constructing the city where it is, and his arrogance and building in a place so unsuited for a city. While Ahab spent every waking moment hunting Moby Dick, it seems that Evgeny sought to flee from the horseman, when Pushkin writes “So all night long, demented, / wherever he might turn his head- / everywhere gallops the Bronze Rider / pursuing him with thunderous tread.”. He tries to flee from the Rider after he unleashes his built up rage against it, whereas Ahab hunts down the whale and then spits forth his anger. 

 

The manner in which each of the men lets loose his fury against the target of his woe is also interesting to compare. Ahab managed to drum up within his own self, and the hearts of his men, a great fever pitch to strike out at Moby Dick. This anger was eventually set loose against the whale in a surge of fiery zeal and hate driven by the point of his lance. At this point, Ahab's rage had blinded him completely and he no longer cared for anything or anyone, he only desired to satiate his thirst for revenge, when he says “Sink all coffins and all hearses to one common pool! and since neither can be mine, let me then tow to pieces, while still chasing thee, though tied to thee, thou damned whale!THUS, I give up the spear!”. After finishing off Ahab, the whale proceeded to destroy the rest of his crew and sinking his ship. Compared to Ahab, Evgeny's rage was let loose in a much less violent manner, but not with less contempt. He quietly says “take care... you marvel working builder”. This meek response seems to indicate that Evgeny is begrudgingly giving in to Peter and his city, and admitting that he won the conflict. This can be affirmed because although it was damaged, the city of Saint Petersburg remained, and Evgeny's house was completely destroyed. Looking at how Ahab expelled his revenge, and seeing the total ruin that it brought upon everything around him, one can compare that to the damage Evgeny suffered. The result of his rage was only his eventual death in the cold. Again, the weather and character of Saint Petersburg show Peter's victory over the man by his ability to maintain a city in that location. A reader familiar with Ahab's revenge would see the marked difference in the way the revenge was handled, and who the outcome affected.

Melville's Moby Dick and Pushkin's The Bronze Horseman, are two examples of revenge against an overpowering foe. To a reader who is familiar with Melville's work, the actions and conflicts undertaken by Ahab and his crew can be utilized to help understand the feelings and actions portrayed in Puskin's poem. While The Bronze Horseman is in no way an allegorical retelling of Moby Dick (in fact it was written in 1833, 18 years prior to Melville's work), it can be understood by looking at it through the literary lens of Moby Dick.

The Idyllic Melancholy of Youth: Nostalgia and Homesickness in Russia.

I have not updated this in a while, partially to myself becoming more involved in my studies and partially from watching Firefly (excellent show by the way, shame Fox canceled it). The urge to compose another entry came upon me today when I was returning from lunch. Occupying the lot next to the University is a primary school, and their exercise yard is right by the fence. As I walked by, I glimpsed a few boys playing in the school yard and I was instantly hit with a sense of nostalgia and memory of my youth.

Recently, some arborists had cut off the upper branches of one of the trees in the school yard, and they had left the trimmings in a large pile in the corner by the university's fence. Nearby to this pile were 5 boys playing with sticks, and one was actively breaking off another one from a large branch within the pile. As I watched, I saw one twirling two sticks in his hands as if they were swords. He walked with the confidence of a hero of old, chopping at the long grass as if it were enemies in his path. Seeing this, I immediately started to recollect playing as a child, and doing the same thing as that child was doing now. The other boys were talking amongst themselves seemingly planning what course of action to follow in order to deal with the vile foe they were facing. One boy picked up a stick and pretended to load and fire it like a Kalashnikov (what else).  Clearly these boys were inheriting the world that I had created so many years ago, and now they were creating their own ideas. Expanding on what is the curious world that is the imagination of an 8 year old boy. What new worlds had they created? Who were they portraying? What epic struggle were they enveloped in, and who were they antagonizing in their minds as the primary enemy? I was captivated by this imaginary world I had once lived in myself, but now was confined to observe through the clouded perception of  adult reality and responsibility.

Soon enough I had passed by and was once again seeing life through my (somewhat) adult perspective. This left me with an intense feeling of nostalgia and homesickness. The homesickness was really only there because thinking of my past reminds me of the places which it took place. So within this article, the matter of homesickness is of little or no relevance. What really piqued my interest was this feeling of nostalgia, and longing for the past. When I was a boy, I lived in this life of mixed existence, where the lines between imagination and reality were blurred. The worlds I created, and the things I did within my imagination sometimes seemed as real to me as playing with friends in our so-called "real" life. It is also interesting to note how easily an imaginative child can switch between the world of their mind, and the physical realm. Imagination to me, seems to be some sort of reflection of our inner consciousness, perhaps similar to dreaming while awake. There are no limits within the scope of our imagination, and the ability to do anything is a very appealing notion. Through our imaginative play, we can develop behaviors and social attitudes that will be useful for interaction with other people in the future. This sort of play usually results in physical activity, allowing the child to develop early on, a healthy lifestyle. It is for this reason that I sometimes fear for today's young generation of youth, who due to an excessive amount of artificial stimuli, seem to be lacking imaginative tendencies.

I am sure that the ability to create these environments inside one's head is not going away (as it seems to be intrinsically linked to our unique human characteristic of critical thought.), rather, most of today's children are not given the opportunity to learn how to fully utilize this ability. They are not encouraged to go out and play, instead they are provided with everything they need to have fun without the need to create it themselves. They can now satisfy that desire of their growing minds to play with artificial environments on a screen, with pre-conceived images that are tangible to the physical eye. As such, children no longer have the desire to leave the couch and run around, and the problems of childhood obesity become evident. This dire turn of events is why when I saw Russian children playing in the manner that I used to brought me such nostalgia. It is something that, sadly, I am observing less and less of this in Western culture, and I hope that parents will begin to encourage imaginative play in their children. While this can, in some cases, be attributed to a lack of good parenting and the disintegration of the family unit, it may also be a result of over-parenting. Perhaps parents should cease to fill their child's schedule with courses and programs that they insist will create a well rounded individual who will be successful in life. While I agree that specialist programs teach children valuable skills, I do not agree with saturating the child with them. Children need to be allowed to discover some aspects of humanity on their own, and the imagination is a great tool for this.

With all this in mind, I look back to my own upbringing and how I was encouraged to use my imagination. While I could usually entertain myself, and I did not have access to the plethora of readily available electronic stimuli such as the modern child, I had my own distractions, and I did not always desire to use my imagination on my own accord. When this happened, I can thank my parents for encouraging me (forcefully or otherwise [that's another issue with today's parent, they are too soft. But that is another discussion entirely]) to go out and play even when I went kicking and screaming. In those situations, I usually ended having a memorable play time none the less. In short, the imagination of a child is a valuable tool in his or her's development as a human being. It should not be replaced with electronic gadgets or a full load of programs and study. I think it is best if the child is allowed to discover themselves, with help from the parents as example.

Now excuse me while I immerse myself in a land of my own construction, free from this philosophical rhetoric.

Sensory short circuit: An analysis into the sensory effects of Culture Shock.

They say that when you visit a foreign environment, it is natural to experience a phenomenon known as Culture Shock. This is supposedly a physical and psychological reaction of your body to being immersed in something that it is not used to. Upon reflection on this idea, it sounds reasonable indeed. When you move object A into environment B, whereas environment B is  different than environment A, object A will react differently than when it is in its natural environment. For example, when a ground squirrel is taken from its natural home of earthen tunnels, and placed accordingly on the surface of an antarctic ice shelf, it will freeze to death within a short span of time. The same would happen if an Emperor Penguin was placed in the middle of the Sahara in August. With this principle established, It would appear that when I am removed from my native environment and put into another one I should also experience some sort of adverse effect on my body. 

This change however is not one of climate, but one of varying mental stimuli. This stimuli comes in all five of the senses as well as an emotional reaction. The first of these sensations, come from the olfactory sense, that is, smell. Russia carries with it a very different smell from that of Canada. This smell is one of old stone and mold crumbling concrete, mixed with the lingering scent of tobacco. These old smells cling to the past, and conjure up memories of days gone by in Russia's story of tumult. Canada seems to reek of new life and freshness. One can walk down a Canadian street and feel free, without an oppressive weight bearing down from the centuries of regimes that have risen and been toppled. 

The second sense that is triggered by immersion in a new environment is that of optical perception, or, sight. One of the major things that triggers different sensations is language. While language may seem better suited to fall into the auditory section, the constant bombardment of written text that we experience in everyday, especially urban, life carries with it a whole other spectrum for which our brains have to analyze language. Another visual stimulation here that is not native to Canada, is the Lada. Those cars are cool! 

                                                                               Cool Russian Lada.

 The third sense that is stimulated, is the auditory sense, or, hearing. This is the sense where language comes largely into play. Everywhere from the street to the Metro to a smoky PECTOPAH, one can hear the Russian language in full use. When I had first arrived in the country, this seemed to my ears and brain as inane babble and arcane machines from the foundry of a mad god. Now however, as my mind and body adapt to this environment, I am starting to recognize words and separate the sentences apart. This is truly in part to my active pursuit of learning the language, but also the immersion that I am in has changed the way my mind hears words thus expanding my horizons.

Fourthly, the sensation of touch has to be covered in this dialogue. There is a feeling of grime that covers this city, and I do not believe that it stems from uncleanliness as its unique quality, as all large cities have a dirty feel to them. The grime here feels as if it is oozing from the history and memory contained within the walls, streets, and monuments of the land. As I scrape back the layers of grime, I learn more about the past and thus enrich my future. Who knew dirt could be so exciting.

The final one of the five senses to be stimulated by cultural change, is that of taste. What can I say, Russian food is good! Here you can eat well for very little, and it is especially good if you happen to enjoy a hearty rye bread and soup. Oatmeal is also good, as are various sugary treats. Russian blinni pancakes (basically crepes) are also quite appetizing. But my favourite thing is Chooda yogurt. It is tasty, generously sized, and with a great price of 27r how can you go wrong!?

The final aspect of cultural adaptation that I will discuss at present, is the emotional side of the mind. When you enter a new environment as autonomous creatures (Calvinists, do not start on this one) you feel more than just physical change. As social human beings, we have attachments to various things from our native environments, such as family, friends, and various things that stimulate the aforementioned senses. When we are taken away from these familiarities, we then can suffer from the symptoms of so-called "culture shock" (of which numerous publications have been written and since I am no psychologist, I will ignore here). Nonetheless, we can be emotionally effected by immersion in a different cultural situation, and depending on our mental and emotional fortitude we will either fall into shambles, or emerge stronger in character. 

Judging from the past hour or so that I have just spent composing this rather peculiar look into cultural differences and their ability to affect our sensory perception of the world, I would say that it is time for me to go to sleep and contemplate how to face the new challenges of the coming day. All in all, I am glad that I am a human being blessed with the opportunity to study in this marvelous city instead of a ground squirrel freezing to death on the Weddell Shelf.

Time! We don't have time to be wasting time talking about time!

Classes begin this morning, with Language at 10.45 followed by History at 11.40. After lunch we have a three hour block of literature. The schedule is very much reflective of typical Russian organizational style, in that it is subject to change at any time. This philosophy of organization is evident in other aspects of my experience here so far. One of these has been in the idea of a queue. Lines do not seem to be a regular part of Russian culture, in fact, they seem to prefer a mass of people slowly pushing towards the said objective. These facets of Russian life surprised me as I was raised with the notion that all Russians still live with a Soviet mindset, and are very strict about order and temporal precision. This is apparently not the case for most, as things happen when they happen, and if they happen after their scheduled time has passed, no one is really all too concerned about it. For instance, the bus that we were going to take to Church on Sunday morning was late. When we were about half way there, it was 11.00, when Church was supposed to start, however when we arrived at Church around 11.15, the service started a few minutes after that. In the west we care a great deal about keeping to schedules and running things with as much order as possible, and while this is an effective and efficient method of completing tasks, it does seem to develop stress in the individuals tasked with fulfilling them. The Russian way however, seems to give myself stress when approaching it from a western perspective, but as I get more and more immersed in the culture, I start to appreciate this apparent neglect of schedule as somewhat relaxing. This does not mean that I will abandon all sense of keeping time in the future, as I do like to keep to the clock.

New Horizons

I have arrived here in Russia, and from the first impression that I received, it is a very interesting place. The first person that I saw as I walked into the tunnel was a Russian border police officer, with a very large peaked hat. Following the dimly lit brick hallway, I came to the top on an old rickety escalator that smelled of machine oil that led into Passport Control. Here I joined into a mass of people pressing to get through the customs line. The line, or lack thereof, seemed to be totally random and advancement through said 'line' depended entirely upon pushing your way through the mass. Not surprisingly, My group and I found ourselves at the back of the mass, while we triple checked our immigration forms before going through. When I finally arrived at the passport control window, I handed the woman my passport and completed immigration form. She simply glanced over it, stamped it, and handed it back to me with the side of the immigration form needed to leave the country (can't lose that!) After this, I merely picked up my bags from the conveyer, and walked out. Leaving the airport, I was shown the Polkovo hills, from which the German artillery was positioned surrounding the city during the Siege of Leningrad in World War II. Travelling towards the city, we passed a museum dedicated to the siege itself, which we will be visiting soon. Upon arriving at the school, I took my bags to a room, and proceeded with various registration tasks. After a brief tour around Narvsky Square, and a tasty supper of stuffed crepes at Teramok, I returned to the dorm to shower and sleep. It was much appreciated. Already my excitement for my time here in St. Petersburg is starting to blossom, and I look forward for what else this trip has in store.

On the eve of a journey.

Here now on the eve of my departure to St. Petersburg Russia, I sit and ponder the future. What will happen in these four months? What historic places will I visit? What communist era relic will stir in me some new leftist tendencies (gasp)?  When I have passed safely through the veritable wall that is Russian customs, and into the expanse that is the Pulkovo airport, what smells will waft into my nostrils? what sights and sounds will stimulate my sensory receptacles? When facing such new and foreign prospects (and I don't mean the great Soviet boulevards) such as these,my character is sure to be effected, in some way or another, for good or ill. All I can do is to hope and pray that when I emerge from the belly of the bear, and have been vomited back safely upon Canadian soil, I am stronger in mind, body, and spirit.


Philosophical musings on life aside, here is an awesome song by Turisas, a Finnish Folk/Viking metal band:

Turisas - To Holmgard and Beyond


Holmgard is the old Norse name for a city which was founded by Swedes travelling to the East. The city is now called Veliky Novgorod, and it is situated between St. Petersburg and Moscow.