Bernstein’s fame, reputation, and personality have for the most part been seen as excessive and problematic. This perception militated from the start against his position in time, place, and tradition as a serious composer being influential or even accepted. Yet from the golden moment of opportunity for American composers in which he grew to adulthood to his barely noticed final works, he was following a diligent route of creative output that may yet bear fruit at greater distance from the man himself, though it would be difficult to claim that, taken as a whole, it has yet done so.

While Tolstoy is best known as a novelist, many become acquainted with his works through musical adaptations. These multinational adaptations span different genres and vary in their degrees of fame, sophistication, and resemblance to the original. This chapter adopts the analogy of a theme and variations to consider the symbiotic relationship between source texts and adaptations. The characteristics unique to literature vis-à-vis music are also discussed to illustrate the advantages and challenges of setting literature, in particular prose, to music. The chapter examines works in each genre with musical analyses and offers genre-specific commentary. In addition to instrumental music, ballet, and opera, musicals are included because they bridge high art and more popular genres and have been instrumental in revitalizing many classics of Russian literature. The chapter concludes with a discussion of operatic adaptations, using Prokofiev’s War and Peace as an example. The opera illustrates many challenges typical of setting sprawling prose texts to music of various genres, such as reducing the number of scenes and characters as well as reimagining the text. The appendix includes a list of adaptations; as many works on the list are not well known, they may be further examined by scholars.

The October Revolution in 1917 profoundly shocked the cultural ecosystem. The new authorities recast notions of freedom, of the arts, and of the public. Links between and among audiences at different levels that had thrived in the prerevolutionary cultural market were dismantled. Over time the government imposed strictures on culture requiring alignment with political directives. By 1934, the official policy of Socialist Realism was mandatory and compliance enforced by rewards and terror. The early years of revolutionary ferment yielded aesthetic innovation of the highest order, yet the mounting pressures took their toll on creativity. Writers, artists, and performers responded variously. Some took cover in works employing irony and in the (somewhat) safer terrain of children’s literature. By seeding children’s literature with values counter to those practiced by Soviet officialdom, selected writers and artists spread counter-values to a new generation. They worked with the guile of the fox, the flight of the firebird, and, perhaps, the recklessness of the Fool. By keeping alive Russian stories of wise Fools, sentient animals, and magical powers, their creators carried forward folkloric traditions barred from the reigning Socialist Realism. In doing so, they protected limited public space for artistic innovation.

In the dark hours of the 1930s, authors and illustrators drew succor from the compassion in folklore. Goodness is closely allied with Foolishness in Russian folklore; each derives from an amalgam of innocence and kindness. In tale after tale, hapless heroes selflessly help troubled creatures and later reap multiples of the assistance rendered. Authors and illustrators sought sanctuary in this unrealistic parallel world, revisiting and updating tales of talking animals, exotic times and places, and Fools whose wishes are granted. The hidden meanings – their potent messages about the good, the bad, and the wily – slipped under the censors’ radar, reaching adult readers as well as children. Successive new editions of Petr Ershov’s Little Humpbacked Horse (1834) reached wide Soviet audiences. Andrei Platonov developed a remarkable collection of fairytales in the 1940s, while his teenaged son was imprisoned in the GULAG. Sergei Prokofiev’s Peter protected the wolf from hunters. Kornei Chukovsky created a ménage of friendly animals and a kindly Russian Dr. Dolittle to tend them. Daniil Kharms penned a tale of inclusion and tolerance in 1929, as Stalin’s hold on the arts tightened. These and other works countered the cruelty and cynicism of Socialist Realism.