Published online by Cambridge University Press: 20 January 2017
In this article Andreas Schönle explores the treatment of ruins in the Romantic period, in particular the propensity toward holistic reconstruction, rather than preservation of architectural heritage. He argues that the Romantic disregard of extant heritage harks back to the Sentimentalist infatuation with the fleetingness of life and dramatization of loss, that this melancholy feeling stoked a sense of national victimization, and that it legitimated an imaginary reinvention of the past and the constructedness of collective memory. The Church of the Tithe in Kiev serves as a case study illustrating that the Romantic commitment to totality has resulted in the significant destruction of architecture. Depictions of its ruins in travel accounts and in the writings of Vadim Passek and Andrei Murav'ev evidence a marked desire to exacerbate the sense of loss rather than to describe and valorize the remains. This disregard of heritage reprises the Sentimentalist infatuation with melancholy prominently deployed by Nikolai Karamzin. A comparison with Eugène Viollet-le-Duc in France and Augustus Pugin in England indicates that in Russia the invention of a national style of architecture required a much more radical imposition upon the historical landscape.
I wish to thank my anonymous reviewers, whose queries and suggestions have contributed to sharpening my argument in important ways.
1. This article spans the periods referred to in traditional Russian periodization as Sentimentalism and Romanticism. These terms will be adopted here conventionally, as period labels more than content descriptors. Suffice it to say that for our purposes Sentimentalism explores the complexity of the self and of self-consciousness, while Romanticism seeks to embed, or dramatizes its inability to embed, this newly discovered self into some vision of totality, be it nature or the nation, for example, which fosters the elaboration of ideological constructs. The concept of Romanticism is itself highly fraught and disputed. It ranges from approaches that are affirmative and celebratory, emphasizing oneness with nature, the monistic texture of the world, its organicist evolution, healing, and reconciliation to theories that foreground alienation, irony, the infinite regression of self-consciousness, and the disjunction between language and the real. For a reasonably comprehensive discussion of the various understandings of Romanticism, see Simpson, David, “Romanticism, Criticism and Theory,” in Curran, Stuart, ed., The Cambridge Companion to British Romanticism (Cambridge, Eng., 1993), 1–24.Google Scholar For a discussion of Russian Romanticism, see Leighton, Lauren G., “On a Discrimination of Russian Romanticism,” Russian Romanticism: Two Essays (The Hague, 1975), 1–39 CrossRefGoogle Scholar, as well as Dmitrij Chizhevskij, History of Nineteenth- Century Russian Literature, vol. 1, The Romantic Period (Nashville, 1974). Emphasis in this article will be on the ideological dimensions of Romanticism, as “dramas of displacement and idealization,” in a critical vein adumbrated, for example, by Jerome J. McGann in his The Romantic Ideology: A Critical Investigation (Chicago, 1983), 1.
2. Collective memory will be understood here in the sense pioneered by Maurice Halbwachs as a framework that both sustains individual memory and enforces a certain group unity by selecting among available recollections and reconfiguring their meaning dynamically in response to the needs of the present. See Apfelbaum, Erika, “Halbwachs and the Social Properties of Memory,” in Radstone, Susannah and Schwarz, Bill, eds., Memory: Histories, Theories, Debates (New York, 2010), 77–92.Google Scholar
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8. Ibid., 294. Emphasis in the original. In the story, Liza becomes the victim of Erast, a man raised on European Enlightenment literature, who, in his relations with her, initially forms the project of an asexual friendship based on rational self-control. This Enlightenment-inspired self-determining lifestyle wreaks havoc on Liza's existence. Erast represents the intrusion of western intellectual paradigms into Russia. For a reading of this story as a parable of the rise of modernity in Russia, see Schönle, Andreas, “Mezhdu ‘drevnei’ i ‘novoi’ Rossiei: Ruinyu rannego Karamzina kak mesto ‘modernity,'” Novoe literatumoe ohozrenie, 59 no. 1 (2003): 125-41.Google Scholar
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26. Ibid., 86.
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28. Shchenkov, ed., Pamiatniki arkhitektury, 45.
29. Ibid., 53-58.
30. The edict On the Prohibition to Restore Monuments of Antiquity without the Permission of the Emperor (1842) reveals the extent to which Nicholas I intended to control and shape restoration works. Shchenkov, ed., Pamiatniki arkhitektury, 97.
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32. The attempt to synthesize classicism with the vernacular tradition in various media was Olenin's lifelong aspiration. See Wortman, “Solntsev,” 21.
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35. Olenin instructed the architect N. E. Efimov to conduct a careful examination of the foundations, the techniques, and the materials used and to study extant parts of the St. Sophia Cathedral in Kiev to propose a reconstruction based on analogical principles. His instructions reveal an interesting terminological fluctuation, as he glosses the term vozobnovit’ (to renew) with the French restaurer (to restore). Efimov's project was submitted to the tsar in 1827 but was rejected. See Shchenkov, ed., Pamiatniki arkhitektury, 78-82.
36. Shchenkov, ed., Pamiatniki arkhitektury, 45.
37. Quoted ibid., 112.
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44. Gavriil R. Derzhavin, Sochineniia (St. Petersburg, 2002), 412.
45. Other writers who expressed this sense of vacuity include Petr Chaadaev, who bemoaned in 1829 that in Russia there is “not even a home; nothing which attracts or awakens our endearment or affection, nothing lasting, nothing enduring,” and Nikolai Gogol', who concluded in his Selected Passages from Correspondence with Friends (published 1847) that “our spaces remain just as empty, sorrowful, and unpopulated, everything around us is just as homeless and unfriendly, as if we still had no home, no roof of our own, but stopped homeless somewhere on a public road.” Petr Chaadaev, The Major Works of Peter Chaadaev, trans. Raymond T. McNally (Notre Dame, 1969), 28, and Nikolai Gogol, Selected Passages from Correspondence with Friends, trans. Jesse Zeldin (Nashville, 1969), 100. Translation amended by me.
46. My reading here resonates with Giorgio Agamben's interpretation of Sigmund Freud's famous 1917 essay “Mourning and Melancholia,” in Collected Papers (London, 1950), 4:152-70. Focusing on Freud's admission that in melancholy it is not always clear what particular loss set off the melancholic withdrawal, Agamben contends that “melancholy would be not so much the regressive reaction to the loss of the love object as the imaginative capacity to make an unobtainable object appear as if lost.” In so doing, “the strategy of melancholy opens up a space for the existence of the unreal.” Giorgio Agamben, Stanzas: Word and Phantasm in Western Culture (Minneapolis, 1993), 20.
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56. Passek, Putevye zapiski, 29-30.
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58. Ibid., 22-23.
59. Ibid., 35.
60. Ibid., 39.
61. Shchenkov, ed., Pamiatniki arkhitektury, 10.
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66. A. N. Murav'ev, Puteshestvie po sviatym mestam russkim v dvukh chastiakh, 4th ed. (1846; reprint, Moscow, 1990), 2:109. Emphasis added.
67. Ibid., 2:107.
68. A. N. Murav'ev, “Razvaliny Korsuni,” Tavrida (St. Petersburg, 2007), 20.
69. Ibid., 25.
70. Ibid., 76.
71. Ibid., 77.
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74. M. N. Zagoskin, Roslavlev, ili russkie v 1812 godu (Moscow, 1980), 198. For a more extensive discussion of this novel and its treatment of ruins, see Schönle, Architecture of Oblivion, 56-62.
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