Why did American classic writer Theodore Dreiser go to the USSR?
The young Soviet state also needed an outside perspective – recognition of its chosen path by famous, influential foreigners. And Theodore Dreiser, with his proletarian background and his literature depicting the hardships and deprivations of a person fighting for a better lot, was potentially an excellent ally.
The road East
In 1927, Dreiser received an invitation from the Soviet organization ‘International Workers' Aid’ to visit the USSR and take part in the celebration of the 10th anniversary of the October Revolution. The writer, who had been dreaming of going to Russia since the early 1900s, nonetheless accepted the invitation with certain conditions. The American was least interested in officialdom: parades, conferences and organized tours. He longed to see how ordinary people lived in the new state, what difficulties workers and peasants faced, the state of the countryside, how factories operated, how the national republics were developing. He immediately made it clear that he wanted to stay in Russia much longer, that he insisted on freedom of movement and choosing his own route, as well as the right to ask any questions. And, to top it off, he requested a secretary-translator. Dreiser was assured that all conditions would be met and that the trip would be fully paid for.
Only one question remained. "What if my opinion turns out to be unfavorable?" the American asked. "We'll take the risk," they replied.
On October 19, 1927, Dreiser sailed east from New York and, on November 4, he arrived in Moscow. In total, the writer spent 2.5 months in Russia. He first lived in the capital, then in Leningrad (now St. Petersburg) and then traveled deep into the country. He visited Perm, Novosibirsk, Nizhny Novgorod, Kiev, Kharkiv, Donetsk, Rostov-on-Don, Tiflis, Baku, Batumi and traveled along the entire Black Sea coast.
From his first days there, he kept a daily diary. The result of his observations would later be two works – ‘A Russian Diary’ and the book ‘Dreiser Looks at Russia’. The latter was never fully published in the USSR. Even during perestroika, in 1988, only a few essays from this collection were printed. Later, the missing chapters were published in various magazines. And this is not surprising. Despite the generally favorable tone, despite his sincere acceptance of much of what was happening, Dreiser was still able to grasp and sense the approaching twilight: the degeneration of creative spirit in art, the triumph of mediocrity and bureaucracy, the paralyzing fear that stifled the seeds of innovation. In the late 1920s, such observations – which pointed almost directly to the repressions already unfolding – were impossible. In the late 1980s, such perceptiveness from a foreign visitor seemed too bitter.
Art, daily life, contrasts
What did he like? The genuine enthusiasm, the spiritual uplift of a society building a new life. Dreiser was convinced time and again how sincerely people were willing to put up with current difficulties for the sake of a better future – not even their own, but their children's. What disheartened the writer was that, sometimes, he encountered duplicity: honest acceptance of inevitable obstacles on the path to progress – acceptance precisely as difficulties, even if temporary – was passed off as the desired state of affairs. For example, the American was truly overwhelmed by the impression of a workers' dormitory. "Perhaps, 20 families live here, in two buildings. Each family has one or two rooms, depending on the number of family members. No less than three people to a room, more often five or more. The furnishings are so wretched, so dismal and disorganized, that there are simply no words. <…> There is no bathtub. There is one communal bathtub on the ground floor of the house where 12 families live. And a kitchen for every six families."
He was given a separate tour of this kitchen – to convince the guest that Soviet women experienced no inconvenience from this state of affairs and even found many advantages in it: there was company, solidarity and mutual assistance. They explained that Russians had a communal way of life and collectivism in their blood. But, they failed to convince the writer. He could not abandon the thought that such a way of life could not be "the embodiment of the future communist dwelling" and that the revolution had been necessary precisely to abolish it, not to preserve it.
How amazed the writer was when he realized how total and pervasive communal coexistence had become in Russia. Even famous directors Vsevolod Meyerhold and Sergei Eisenstein were forced to share their living space with a huge number of people. The saddest realization, however, was that the recognized masters of art were constrained not only by walls, but also by rigid ideological frameworks. Dreiser writes that ideology does not allow either Meyerhold or Stanislavsky to fully develop; that they are shackled by propagandistic tasks.
In contrast to the theater, which was going through hard times, Dreiser noted successes in cinema. "I managed to see some films in America," Dreiser remarked. "‘Battleship Potemkin’, ‘Ivan the Terrible’, ‘The Power of Darkness’, ‘The End of St. Petersburg’. In my opinion, they are made very talentedly (I dare say that, in terms of their merits, these motion pictures far exceed the quality of our Hollywood ones). In the Soviet Union I watched several more films. Such as ‘Storm’ and ‘Peasant Women of Ryazan’. Both movies are made at the highest professional level. I confess, I consider them the best in world cinema."
For him, the loss was the vanished literary tradition in the Soviet Union. To his disappointment, he did not meet writers in the USSR of the caliber of the 19th-century masters. "Compared to Gogol, Turgenev, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, Chekhov – in short, with the entire famous galaxy of Russian writers of the past – contemporary Soviet writers look much more modest," the American wrote bitterly.
The full version of the article is available (in Russian) on the ‘Russky Mir’ website.