Zelknik Article

Editors and Board of Trustees of the Russian Review
Russian Bebels: An Introduction to the Memoirs of the Russian Workers Semen Kanatchikov and
Matvei Fisher. I
Author(s): Reginald E. Zelnik, Semen Kanatchikov and Matvei Fisher
Source: The Russian Review, Vol. 35, No. 3 (Jul., 1976), pp. 249-289
Published by: Wiley on behalf of Editors and Board of Trustees of the Russian Review
Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/128404
Accessed: 09-01-2016 12:09 UTC
Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at http://www.jstor.org/page/
info/about/policies/terms.jsp
JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of content
in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms of scholarship.
For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org.
Editors and Board of Trustees of the Russian Review and Wiley are collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and
extend access to The Russian Review.
http://www.jstor.org
This content downloaded from 134.58.253.30 on Sat, 09 Jan 2016 12:09:35 UTC
All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
to the
Russian ebels:An Introduction
Memoirsof the RussianWorkers
SemenKanatchikov
andMatvei Fisher*
By REGINALD E. ZELNIK
I.
Booklengthautobiographiesof Russianworkers,in contrastto fragmentarymemoirs,have been rare occurences.Of the handful that
have been published,most are of genuine value in illuminatingthe
political historyof the pre-Revolutionarylabor movement.But only
two or three are of more than limited value to social historianswho
wish to makeuse of individual"casestudies"in orderto gain insight
into such old but still naggingquestionsas the role of peasantanteceof the Russianworkingclass and the socialdents in the "formation"
contrast
to purelypolitical)dimensionsof confronpsychological(in
tationbetween Russianworkersand the revolutionaryintelligentsia.'
The autobiographyof SemenIvanovichKanatchikovis one of the rare
publishedmemoirsof a Russianworkerthat devotesmorethan a few
cursoryparagraphsto the author'schildhoodand adolescence,to the
periodof his life beforehe began to adhereto a structuredset of poli*
A version of this essay will accompany a reprint edition of the Kanatchikovand

Fisher memoirs soon to be published by Oriental Research Partners. The author is
grateful to Victoria Bonnell, Terence Emmons, Laura Engelstein, Leopold Haimson,
Fred Weinstein, and Elaine Zelnik for their helpful advice and criticism.
1 S. I. Kanatchikov,Iz istorii moego bytiia, 2 vols. (Moscow, 1929-34); A. Fisher,
V Rossii i v Anglii. Nabliudeniia i vospominaniiapeterburgskogorabochego (1890-1921
g.g.) (Moscow, 1922); G. Fisher, Podpol'e,ssylka, emigratsiia.Vospominaniiabol'shevika
(Moscow, 1935). (Fisherwas known by several given names; see note 27 below.)
In addition to the memoirs of Kanatchikov and Fisher, the most valuable memoirs
and memoir fragments by Russian workers (excluding those that cover primarily the
post-1905 period) are: V. G. Gerasimov, Zhizn' russkogo rabochego. Vospominaniia
(Moscow, 1959), first published in 1906 and reissued under various titles in 1919, 1923,
1924, and 1933; V. S. Pankratov,"Vospominaniia,"in Rabochee dvizhenie v Rossii v
opisanii samykh rabochikh (Moscow, 1933), first published in 1905 and reissued in
249
250
The Russian Review
tical beliefs.2BecauseKanatchikovwas a first-generation

workerwho
remainedin his native village (Gusevo,Volokolamskuezd, Moscow
guberniia)until the age of 16, his memoirsprovideus with a unique
opportunityto examine in some depth the complex processes by
which a villageyouth was transformed,and transformedhimself,into
an industrialworkerwith an outwardlyurban culture, and then to
observehis metamorphosisinto a "conscious"revolutionaryactivist,
with, Bolshevikpoliticalaffiliationsat the time his memoirsbreakoff
in early 1905.3
MatveiFisher,4on the otherhand,was anythingbut a typical Rus1906 and 1923; "Staryirabochii,"Iz rabochego dvizheniia za Nevskoi Zastavoi v 70-kh
i 80-kh godakh. Iz vospominanii starogo rabochego (Geneva, 1900); P. A. Moiseenko,
Vospominaniiastarogo revoliutsionera(Moscow, 1966), first published in 1924 (a long
excerpt appearsin Rabochee dvizhenie . .. v opisanii samykh rabochikh;I. V. Babushkin, Vospominaniia Ivana Vasil'evicha Babushkina. 1893-1900 gg. (Moscow, 1955),
first published in 1925, republishedin English in 1957; the memoirsof K. M. Norinskii
and V. A. Shelgunov,in Ot gruppy Blagoeva k "SoiuzuBor'by"(1886-1894 gg.) (Rostovon-Don, 1921); S. P. Shesternin, Perezhitoe. Iz istorii rabochego i revoliutsionnogo
dvizheniia, 1880-1900 gg. (Ivanovo, 1940). An expanded list would include many otler
titles, mostly short fragments scattered in various journalsand collections.
Kanatchikov'smemoirs were first published in 1924 and reissued in 1929 and 1934.
However, there is some internal evidence that sections were originally drafted considerably earlier, perhaps only a few years after some of the events described (see, for
example, the footnote on p. 74 of pt. 1). Moreover, except for a few paragraphsthat
strike me as having been inserted artificially,for ideological purposes, there is an unmistakably fresh quality to the entire work. Fisher's memoirs were first published in
1922, only a year after the last events described took place, but more than twenty years
after the terminationof his Russian career (his life in England will be discussed only
briefly in this essay). A second edition was published in Moscow in 1935 as Podpol'e,
ssylka, emigratsiia. Vospominaniiabol'shevika. The subtitle "Memoirsof a Bolshevik"
is curious since Fisher officially joined the Bolsheviks (that is, the Communist Party)
only after returningfrom England to Russiain 1921. Revised and expanded, the second
edition has the advantage of including richer detail than the first about certain episodes
in Fisher's life. But there are disadvantagesas well: Several significant changes in formulation and phrasing in the 1935 edition appear to reflect the ideological rigidity of
the period in which it was published. The editor's rather defensive introduction (pp.
3-5), in which he apologizes for some of Fisher's "errors"and not fully Marxistpositions
(specifically,on the peasant question and on the role of the intelligentsia), further suggests that there may have been certain compromises on the part of the author that
were not requiredin the firstedition. There are even some details in the originalversion
that do not appear in the expanded one. For these reasons, it is the first edition that is
cited throughoutmy essay, though I occasionally draw on informationfrom the second
edition to round out certain aspects of Fisher's life. All references to Kanatchikov's
memoirs are to the 1929 (pt. 1) and 1934 (pt. 2) editions, respectively.
2 Not surprisingly,there are no examplesin the literatureof worker-memoiristswhose
careers were non-political.
3 The question of precisely when Kanatchikovbecame a Bolshevik is discussed below.
4 On the contradictoryevidence regardingFisher's given name, see n. 27.
Memoirsof Semen Kanatchikovand Matvei Fisher
251
sian peasant in his social backgroundand childhoodexperience.He

was the son of immigrantGermancraftsmenwho, while attending
Russianschools,spenthis childhoodandearlyadolescencein Germanspeakinghomes,firsthis parents'and then his godfather's.Although
he was raised in the countrysideand engaged in farmwork,his cultural environmentwas sufficientlyclose to the social frontier that
separatedurbanandruralRussiato allowfor a much smoothertransition to life in the industrialcity than was possible for a peasant like
Kanatchikov,whose formativeyears, however unique in certain respects, recapitulatea set of experiencesfamiliarto the great mass of
workersfromthe village.Thusin the one casewe have
first-generation
a sociallyprototypicalworkerwho followed an unusualcoursein his
development from the traditionalvillage to the politicized urban
workers'circle, while in the other case we have a socially (and culturally)atypical worker,but of a background(his Germanantecedents aside) more commonly found in the workers'circles of the
1890s. Differentbackgroundsleading to an apparentlysimilaridentity by the time they crossedpaths in Saratovin 1901,but also-as we
will see-with someimportantshadingsof differencein the characters
that evolved, which reflectthe differentpasts of the two men. Both
the similaritiesand contrastsmakethe readingof these memoirsside
by side all the moreenlightening.
Havingbegunin theirrespectiveways to adaptthemselvesto urban
industrialenvironments,Kanatchikovand Fisher soon found themselves in contactwith representativesof the revolutionaryintelligentsia just at a time when the interactionbetween intelligentyand politicizedworkerswas startingto have a majorimpacton the developing
characterof RussianMarxism.In its political,and in part in its social
confrontationof the 1890sand early
context,the worker-intelligentsia
1900s has been suggestively and convincingly analyzed by Allan
Wildman.5The autobiographiesbefore us provide an additionaldimensionto the picturepresentedby Wildmanby allowingus to look
moreclosely at the meaningof that confrontationin the lives of individualworkers,at the rolethat that encounterwith intelligentyplayed
in the dynamicsof theirpersonaldevelopment.Althoughthe theme of
workerattitudestowardintelligenty(inseparable,of course,from in5 A. K. Wildman, The Making of a Workers'Revolution: Russian Social Democracy,
1891-1903 (Chicago, 1967). Wildman's analysis is summarizedbelow,
252
The Russian Review
telligentsiaattitudestowardsworkers)is toucheduponin almostevery

workermemoirof the period, and severaleven delve into issues-or,
moreto the point,feelings-that transcendprogramaticdiscussionsof
strategyor tactics,I know of none as revealingas these of the deeper
emotionalstructurethat at once bound politicized workersto their
intelligentsiacomradesand kept them at a spiritualdistance.
Takentogether,then, the storiesof these two workers,read in the
contextof our independentknowledgeof the period and milieus describedtherein,enableus to broadenand deepen ourperspectiveson
what, at the riskof simplification,might be consideredthe two major
stages in the complex transitionfrom traditionalvillager to revolutionaryworkerthat a smallbut significantnumberof Russiansunderwent between the 1870sand the early twentieth century.The stages
I have in mindare,first,the sheddingof a peasantidentityin favorof
a new self-identificationas industrialworker,and second,the further
consolidationof that new identityinto a narrowerpoliticalidentification as revolutionaryor-to use the terminologyof the times that best
serves the purposes of this essay-"conscious" worker, an identification
that could only be fully realized through interaction,not always

comradely,with the intelligentsia.
I stressthe presenceof simplificationin this two-stagemodel. For
example,the notion of a radicalidentity transformationis strongly
suggestedby the life of Kanatchikovbecausethe changeswe observe
in his sense of self fromearlyyouth to full manhood,at the age of 26
when the narrativebreaksoff, are so extreme.Yet the temptationto
postulateso sweeping a metamorphosisin the lives of other workers
whosepersonalhistoriescannotbe reconstitutedin comparabledetail
must be resisted.I preferto think of Kanatchikov'slife as providing
materialfromwhich an ideal type of a peasant-to-worker-to-conscious
worker transitionmight eventually be synthesized in conjunction
with otherlife histories.But even then we would only be speakingof
a tiny fractionof the peasantswho became industrialworkers,most
of whom froze their new self-identificationat that point (if, indeed,
they arrivedat it at all) withoutenteringthe so-calledconsciousstage.
Conversely,the moretypicalconsciousworkerhad often enteredthe
urbanlaborforce not from an immediatelyruralbackgroundbut as
someoneroughlyapproximatingthe hereditaryworkerhypostatized,
253
so
usuallywith considerableexaggeration,in Soviet historiography,6
that if any transformationstill lay beforehim, it was mainlythe transitionfromworkerto consciousworker,the metamorphosisfrompeasant into workerhaving been accomplished,as it were ,by the previous generation.In Fisherwe have an intermediarycase, since he was
born into a situation that exposed him simultaneouslyto agrarian
and industrialways, though not to the cosmopolitanatmosphereof
the big city, which he first experiencedat about the same age as
Kanatchikov.Fisher was not exactly a hereditaryproletarian,but
neither did he have a well-defined peasant identity to overcome;
hence only his metamorphosisinto consciousworkerwas really problematic. All this should serve to remindus that those who traveled
either or both of the paths under discussioncould approachthem
fromone of severalby-roads,7and that the modelprovidedby Kanatchikov is useful mainly insofaras it transcribeswhat was the fullest
trajectoryavailable.Its importancederivesin part from its utility as
a limitingcase,in partfromthe richnessof physicaland psychological
detail presentedby the author.
Yet anotherdangerinherentin abstractingour two-stagemodel of
social and personal transformationis that, having adopted it as a
heuristicdevice, one may be tempted to overemphasizethe extent to
which the two transitionstranspiredin distinctphases,fully discrete
from one another.On the contrary,I propose to show that the two
majorperiodsof Kanatchikov'spersonalgrowth(to 1905)overlapped,
merged,and interactedat severalcrucialjunctures,and in ways that
6 The major scholarly work that stresses the growing importance of hereditary or
"family"workers in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries is A. G. Rashin,
Formirovanierabochego klassa Rossii: Istoriko-ekonomicheskieocherki (Moscow, 1958),
an expanded version of a study published in 1940. The debate over this issue, both
polemical and scholarly,has a long history, dating from the 1880s right up to the present. For a recent critical summary that challenges the Soviet view and the sources on
which it has been based by explicating the possible connection between the presence
of "hereditary"workers and economic backwardness,see R. E. Johnson, "The Nature
of the Russian Working Class: Social Characteristicsof the Moscow Industrial Region,
1880-1900" (Ph.D. diss., Comell University, 1975), pp. 117-23.
7 Two articles by T. H. Von Laue are particularly useful for constructing a social
typology of Russian workers that does justice to the multiplicity of existing strata
around the turn of the century: "RussianLabor between Fields and Factory,"California
Slavic Studies 3 (1964): 33-65, and "Russian Peasants in the Factory," Journal of
Economic History 21, no. 1 (March 1961): 61-80.
254
The Russian Review
contributedsignificantlyto the formationof his character.Indeed,

we will see that althoughthe problemof castingoff his peasantidentity had been functionallyresolvedeven before Kanatchikovmoved
from Moscow to Petersburgat the age of 18, this problemretained
some of its psychologicalcontent even when he was well on his way
and left
to redefininghimself as a "conscious"worker-revolutionary
its markon that second process of self-definitionas well. And conversely,the processof politicalself-definitionwas underwayeven before Kanatchikov'ssocialtransformationinto urbanworkerhad been
consolidated,for to a certainextentit was the transforminginfluence
of an urban political culture that facilitated his developmentof a
sense of himselfas somethingotherthan a peasant.Indeed, a characteristicfeatureof Russiansocial historyin the last two or three decades of the Tsaristregime is the extent to which the distinctionbetween social self-identification(becomingan industrialworker)and
political self-identification(becoming "conscious")was blurred in
the mindsof an importantstratumof the laborforce, that is, the degree to which the two notionscame to be fused, or confused.But all
this is best understoodif we begin to take a closer look at "Senka"
Kanatchikov'searlierlife.
At... timeshe felt a nostalgiafor the muddyparadiseof the village ...;
but in his later years,with increasingfrequencyand vehemence,he divorcedhimselffromthe Germanpeasantwhomhe condemnedfor being
vulgar,violent, and animal-like.
ErikH. Erikson,YoungManLuther
"My early childhood was not accompanied by any particularly outstanding events," Kanatchikov declares at the outset of his memoirs,
"unless one counts the fact that I survived... ." Kanatchikov was not
merely employing a rhetorical device. Among the dozen or more
children born to his mother he was one of only four who survived to
adulthood. Yet his family, while continually faced with the specter of
poverty, can by no means be counted among the very poorest of peasant households of the post-Emancipation period. His father Ivan, a
former serf, is described as an ambitious middle peasant who was always striving, without success, to become a kulak. Ivan's varied efforts to improve his lot sometimes exposed the rest of his family to a
fairly broad range of experience beyond the traditional cycles of vil-
255
lage life. At differenttimeshe dabbledin commerceand rentedland.

He taughthimselfto read (fairlywell) and write (poorly)and he sent
his childrento village schools. Still, most of Senka'searly awareness
of life outside the village was acquiredvicariously.Ivan had a genuine aversionto performingpeasantworkhimself,and until he lost his
health at the age of 50, mostof his life was spent far awayfromhome,
trying to supplementthe family income throughemploymentin the
city. Wheneverhe returned,Senkawas subjectedto countlessstories
of his adventuresin the capital,storiesthat were none the less stimulating to the boy's imaginationfor their confusion and embellishment: Ivan's encounterwith the peasant who saved the life of the
Tsarin 1866;spellbindingtales of the "nihilists"(nagilisty,Ivan called
them), Zheliabov,and the "Jewess"SofiaPerovskaia.
However much these wondrousstoriesmay have awakened Senka'sthirstfor traveland adventure,they were balancedby his father's
almostfanaticaldevotionto the village he had turnedhis back to and
to traditionalpeasant values that he preached much more than he
practiced.Despite his prolongedabsences,Ivan claimed to love the
and
land, their "providerwith water and food" (poilitsa-kormilitsa),
his
son
instructed
to
do
His
ambition
for
likewise.
his
son,
repeatedly
destinedto be thwartedby the shortageof land and the rebelliousness
of Senka,was thathe remaina goodpeasant,untaintedby the malevolent influencesof city life that Ivan claimedto know so well.
The contradictionbetween Ivan'sprofesseddevotionto the village
and his actual conduct is only one of a series of ambivalencesin his
characterrecalled by his son. Despite his experimentsin commerce
and cravingto enrich himself,we are told, Ivan was an honest and
just muzhik to the core. Despite his devotion to rural tradition,he
encouragedSenka'seducationalprogressand awakenedhis passion
for reading.His religiousfaith was genuineand deep, but lacked any
element of what Kanatchikovdisparaginglycalls superstition,and
he deeply disliked and distrustedpriests. On the darkerside of the
picture, Ivan was a prodigious drinkerwho usually preferred the
companyof his drinkingcompanionsto that of his family, and often
squanderedthe family'smeagerresourceson alcohol.He was a despotic husband and father who, when he was home, beat his children
and brutalized his meek and feeble wife to the point that young
Senka,his older brother lacking the courage, would try in vain to
protecther at the price of no smallpunishmentto himself.Although
256
The Russian Review
the cause of his mother'sprematuredeath (when Senkawas 14) was

officiallylisted as lung disease,Senkaattributedit to Ivan'smistreatment and held his father fully responsible. Notwithstandingthe
"positivefeatures"he ascribesto his father and his failureto present
us with more than the dimmest shadow of his mother'spure and
self-sacrificingcharacter,Kanatchikovtells us (in a manner that
evokesthe wordsof somememoiristsof the privilegedstrata):"Iloved
my motherintenselyand hated my fatherwith an animalhate."But
that hate, as the readershoulddiscern,was intermingledwith powerful feelings of gratitudeand awe.
After the shock of his mother'sdeath, Senkafound village lifewhich he now virtuallyequated with his father'sdespotism-empty
andunbearable.When,sometwo yearslater,Ivan was movedby economicnecessityto grantSenka'srequestto permithim to move to the
city, Senkawas overcomeby an exalted sensationof joy at the prospect of beginning an independentlife, independentof his father's
authorityand the routinesof the village. But as we follow Senkato
Moscow,we will see that his psychic ties to both father and village
were not so easily severed.
However powerful Senka'spersonalmotives for craving to leave
his village, it was a decision that made sense economicallyand was
commonenoughamongyoung villagersof the CentralIndustrialRegion in the 1890s.8This was, of course,a time of hungerin the countryside and economic opportunityin Russia'sburgeoningindustrial
economy.Senka'smarriedolderbrother,thoughfully involvedin agriculturalworkandde factohead of the Kanatchikovextended-family
(nine- or ten-member)householdin Ivan's absence, had long since
been spendinghis wintersat factoryworkto help compensatefor the
family'sshortageof land. And Ivan himself, as alreadynoted, spent
much of his life at urban(thoughapparentlynot factory)work,having abandonedit recently only because of his age. What launched
Senkaon his new career,then,was a confluenceof personalpreference
with historicalcircumstance,the latter facilitating the former. His
choice of destination(or,morelikely,his father'schoice)was an obvious one: the majorindustrialcenter closest to his home village-the
8 This and related questions are discussed in detail in Johnson, especially chs. 1 and
2. Johnsonemphasizes the strength of the Moscow workers'on-going relationships,direct and indirect, with their villages.
257
city of Moscow.His ultimatedecisionnot to returnto his village, as

we will shortlysee, was more complex.
Senkaarrivedin Moscowin the springof 1895. As if to underline
the absenceof a clean breakwith the past, he was driven there in a
horsedrawnwagon by his father who, having deliveredhimself of a
Polonius-likespeech on the virtues Senkamust display now that he
was on his own in strangesurroundings,deposited the sixteen-yearold youth at the medium-sizedmachineworks of Gustav List.9Nor
was Senka'sindependencecomplete on the other side of the factory
gates, for his apprenticeshipthere had been arrangedby his father
through Korovin,an old acquaintancefrom Gusevo village10who
workedat the factory,and whom Ivan delegated with responsibility
to look afterhis boy. Howeverexcitingand awesomea change Senka
had anticipatedin Moscow,the armof his village still reachedout to
him fromthe very outset of his stay there.
Kanatchikovrecalls in vivid detail the dazzling impressionproducedby his firstview of Moscow,especiallythe luxurioushomes and
plentifulshops.But his enthusiasmwas soondissolvedinto a "typical"
village boy's terror-nourished,no doubt, by his father's repeated
warningsof the evils of city life-at what seemed like a vast, impersonal, hostile world. He was quickly overtakenby feelings of loneliness and a desire to returnhome. The unbeckoningsight of the factory paintshopto which he was firstassignedalmostbroughthim to
tears.Still,the continuedexhilarationevokedby his new-foundif only
partial sense of independence, the heady realization,particularly
powerful when first experienced by rankled adolescents, that he
would no longer have to live in the shadow of his father'scaprice,
were suchthathe refusedto allowhis senseof lonelinessand estrangement to overwhelmhim.
At firstthe presenceof familiarfaces fromhis village seems to have
eased the initial strainsof transition,allowing Senka to absorb his
9 In the mid-1890s the List factory counted approximately800 workers(see Rabochee
dvizhenie v Rossii v XIX veke. Sbornik dokumentov i materialov, ed. L. M. Ivanov,
vol. 4, pt. 1 (Moscow, 1961), p. 413. This made it one of the largest machine works in
Moscow, but it was of relatively modest proportionsin comparisonto the giant machine
and metal works of Petersburgthat Senka would encounter a few years later.
10 Kanatchikov refers to Korovin as his family's zemliak, which could also mean
someone from a differentvillage in the same region. But it is clear from the context that
Korovin came from Gusevo. For an excellent discussion of the importance of zemliaki
in providing communitybonds to the workersof Moscow see Johnson,ch. 4.
258
The Russian Review
new environment gradually and recover from his fright at having

been cut loose from his moorings. He was reassured that his options
were still flexible by the presence of Korovin, who described his own
factory career as only a temporary means to his real goal: the accumulation of enough savings to purchase a two-storey home in the village.
At the same time, Korovin bragged about his successes as a factory
worker, thereby introducing Senka to the notion that the mastery of
factory skills was an attainable and worthwhile goal. Senka could
begin to test the strange waters of industrial life secure in the knowledge that the path of retreat was not closed.
But it was not long before Senka began to feel Korovin's presence
as a burden, for if, as a familiar figure from the village he helped put
Senka at ease, as a surrogate father representing Ivan in matters religious and moral he reminded Senka of the limitations of his rudimentary independence. Thus regularity in church attendance and the
proper observation of fast days continued to be live issues for Senka,
with lapses subjecting him to the risk of particularly ugly scoldings of
a very familiar type when Korovin was hungover from his bouts with
vodka. Such incidents brought together two major aspects of Senka's
prior village life, both of them closely bound to his ambivalence
about his father's authority, both presenting serious emotional challenges to him as he endeavored to redefine his way of life in the
months and years ahead.
The first was religion, or, more precisely, the traditional observance
of Orthodox ritual. Although, or perhaps because his father had stubbornly and sometimes violently insisted on the fullest observation of
Orthodox ritual and on occasion made use of this demand to brutalize
his family, Senka was still committed to his father's faith when he
arrived in Moscow. This religious sensitivity had at its focal point
Senka'sfear, impressed on his conscience by the birchrod, that serious
apostasy from ritual observance would subject him to the eternal
tortures of hell. Such notions served to bind him to the traditional
ways of his father and his village even after his departure, but their
negative associations with his father's brutality would also make
Senka particularly vulnerable to an erosion of his faith as his sense of
filial independence began to grow and his exposure to alternative
views of the world was broadened. And ultimately, the erosion of
religious commitment would mean the collapse of an essential component of his remaining identification with his village background.
259
The second was drinkor, more precisely, intoxication,sometimes

accompaniedby violent or abusivebehavior.Here was a characteristic of the (male)villagerindelibly imprintedon Senka'smind as the
most negativetraitof his fatherand,by extension,of the prototypical
muzhik.As a memorythat continuedto link him to his village past,
its function was strictly negative, serving as a constant reminderof
the coarsenessand brutalitythat might await him shouldhe revertto
the ways of his forbears.Suchtypes could of coursebe found not only
in their native villages, but also in the factories of Moscow, where
they inadvertentlyassisted Senkain delineatingthe type of worker
whose fate he should avoid. The problemwas more complex, however, since heavy drinkingand even brawlingfiguredheavily in the
lives of more citified workersas well, though in more sophisticated
forms. This more urbane style of dissipation would prove more
tempting to Senka, and the success of his struggle to resist it (or
shouldwe say the failureof his effortsto adopt it?) proved to be an
importantmilestonein his future development.
Two physical locations, the factory and his living quarters,provided the main arenasin which the initial phase of Senka'sstruggle
to redefinehis relationshipto the city and the countrysidewas acted
out. Senkaoccupied a "comer"in an apartmentsharedby a fifteenman artel', traditionallya collective of fellow villagers or zemliaki
living and workingtogether away from home. However in this case
(commonenough at the time amongworkersin the largercities) the
population of the artel' was regionally and occupationallydiverse.
Only Korovin,his son Vanka(like Senka, an apprenticeat the List
factory),and a third occupantwere Senka'szemliaki,while occupationallythe groupconsistedof unskilledday-workers,coachmen,and
a samplingof otherurbantrades,in additionto the handfulof workers fromthe nearbyList factory.Hence the apartmentconstitutedan
artel'onlyin the loose sense(but then a prevalentusage)that purchasing of food and payment of the cook were collective responsibilities
and mealswere eaten as a group.The memberswere all male and the
adults were either bachelorsor, if married,had left their wives behind in their respective villages. The entire environment,in which
the ubiquitouspresenceof Korovinfiguresheavily, smackedmore of
village life to Senka than of the city. This was particularlytrue at
mealtimes.Lunch, for which Senka would return from the factory
during his noon break, began with the traditionalshchi, devoured
260
The Russian Review
with wooden spoonsfrom a commonbowl, followed by a ritualized

racefor the scantypieces of meat at the bottom.Dietaryrequirements
were observed on fast days under the watchful eyes of Korovin
(though, apparentlyat the urging of his friend Vanka, Senka soon
began to evade his Sundayreligiousobligations.At most, it may be
conjecturedthat, what with the presenceof zemliakiand continued
exposureto familiarhabits, the artel'providedSenka,with comfortable surroundingsfromwhich to face the challengesof industriallife.
If the livingartel'presentedSenkawith few new urbanmodels,the
factory itself was quite anothermatter. True, a large proportionof
the workers,like Korovin,were still orientedtowardthe village. But
therewere others,especiallyamongthe moreskilled,who were either
city-bornor, a few years older than Senka,had already conquered
most of the psychologicalobstaclesto urbanindustrialidentification
which the young villager was just beginning to face. Such workers
influencedSenkain two distinctbut complementaryways. First, they
subjectedhim to his initialtaste of the ridiculeand generalmistreatment that veteranworkersenjoyedinflictingon their inexperienced
and awkwardcountrycousins.But more importantly,since ridicule
alone might just as easily have elicited a purely defensive or hostile
reaction,theirindustrialskillsand generalknowledgemade available
a new model of behaviorand achievementthat Senkacould strive to
emulate. And if my reading of Kanatchikov'srecollectionsof this
formativeperiod in his life is valid, it was the successfulstrivingfor
masteryover the unfamiliartechnologyof his new industrialworld
that enabled him, in the course of the next two years, to draw the
inner strengthand confidenceto turn his back on his village and, in
defianceof his father'swishes,begin to thinkof himself,with enormous pride, as a permanentworker.1l
Senka'sgrowinginvolvementin the developmentof his industrial
skillsmay be dated to his second month at the factory,when he was
transferredfrom the paintshopto the pattern shop and assignedto
workas an apprenticepattern-maker(model'shchik).This took place
11My understandingof Kanatchikov'stransitionfrom youth to adulthood, and especially of the role that the mastery of the newest technology played in enabling him to
redefine his identity and life tasks in a situation of weakened paternal authority, owes
much to the insights of E. H. Erikson,most notably his Identity: Youth and Crisis (New
York,1968); see especially pp. 31-39, 122-28, 316-17. My applicationof Erikson'sconcepts is a loose one, however, and by no means an attempt to fit Kanatchikov'sdevelopment into the precise stages of Erikson's"life cycle."
261
at a time when Senkawas still experiencingintense surgesof longing

for the village. In the pattern shop they became increasinglyrare.
The professionof pattern-makerwas one of the most highly skilled
and mentally demandingin Russia'sdeveloping machine industry.
Requiringas it did a combinationof draftingtechniquesand the expert use of precisioninstruments,both obtained throughclosely supervised on-the-job training, mastery of the profession generally
guaranteedthe workeremploymentat a respectablewage, even at
times of industrialcontraction.The pattern-makeroccupieda pivotal
positionin the processof machineconstructionthat was intended to
liberate the RussianEmpire from dependence on foreign manufactures. It was he who designed and produced the molds into which
were poured, in an adjacent shop, the molten metals that were
then transformedinto finishedmachinesor machineparts.As a specialist in an industrywhere the divisionof labor was well advanced
but not yet subdividedinto mindless,semi-skilledmachine-tending
tasks, the pattern-makercould not be considereda full-fledgedproletarian.He usuallyownedhis own precioustools which, as Kanatchikov would do for manyyearsto come, he carriedwith him whenever
he moved on to a new employer.In short,he retainedsomethingof
the auraof independenceand dignity associatedwith the semi-independentartisan.Thoughnot the highestpaid in the machineindustry,
his tradewas an elite one, conduciveto a high self esteem, attracting
the envy and admirationof other workers.At List'sthe patternshop
was viewed by all as the factory's"aristocratic"
workshop.
With the encouragementof a friendlysupervisor,Senkamade rapid
stridesin acquiringhis new skills.Withinthe firstfew monthshe had
learnedhis way aroundthe shop and was proficientlyperformingthe
auxiliarytasks of an apprentice,while carefullyobservingthe more
accomplishedperformanceof the older workers.Soon thereafterhe
was ready to begin his trainingin the designing and preparationof
molds,a taskhe undertookin extremelyhigh spirits.By now "strongly
attracted"to his new work,he began-awkwardly, at first,and with
mixedsuccess-to cut his own hardwoodtools.(Havingonce mastered
the use of the turner'slathe, he used it at times to makehimself amusing wooden knicknacks,a minor infringementfor which he occasionallygot into trouble.)Aftera full yearof intensiveapprenticeship,
Senkahad becomea fairlycompetentif still inexperienceddraftsman,
capableof translatinguncomplicatedpatternsinto usablemolds."My
262
The Russian Review
confidencein my own powerswas growingand becomingstronger."

How did this growingself-confidenceaffect Senka'smore general
view of himself and the world aroundhim? In the patternshop that
world consistedof two distincttypes of workers,with whom he was
now in daily contact: a peasanttype, whose industrialskillshe came
to questionas his own developedand whose dissolutemoresand village dialectshe began to findembarassing;an urbanizedtype of shop
who dressedin city style and drankin moderation,and
"aristocrat,"
whose self-disciplineand professionalmastery he grew to admire,
even envy. There were serioustensionsbetween the two groups,in
part because the peasantsattemptedto compensatefor their lack of
skillsby workinglongerhours(takingfewer breaks),therebysetting
a precedent that angered the more skilled, but mainly because the
"aristocrats"
amused themselvesby heaping all kinds of abuse and
scorn on the habits and appearanceof their more rustic co-workers,
much as Senkahimselfhad been mockedwhen he first arrived.The
polarizationin the shop was extreme,and Senkahad little choice but
to identifyhimselfwith one or the other group.As between the two,
his choice of the "aristocrats"
seemed obvious.To emulatethem was
to avert the threat of ridicule, display his growing skills, and find
socialsupportforhis tentativestepstowardsheddinghis peasantskin,
all at once. Thus the strivingfor masteryof new skills and the effort
to abandonpeasantways began to appearin Senka'seyes as part of a
single exercise, an indivisible process of self-transformationinto a
citified worker-"aristocrat."
But it is importantnot to confuse the specific model of workerto which Senkawas drawnwith our conventionalimage
"aristocrat"
of a "laboraristocracy,"that is, a well-paid,highly skilled, self-satisfied elite that would resistany effortsto fundamentallychallengethe
status quo as long as their traditionaljob-floorprivileges were respected. In general-though this is not the place to tackle the thorny
questionof why it was so-a laboraristocracyin, say, the Englishsense
never played the conservativerole in Russianlabor politics that it
of Senka'sshop seem to
did elsewhere.12Althoughthe "aristocrats"
12For an excellent discussion of the labor aristocracy in nineteenth- and early
twentieth-century England (though one that perhaps puts somewhat too much emphasis on wage rates in defining its subject), see E. J. Hobsbawm, "The Labour Aristocracy in Nineteenth-CenturyBritain,"in Labouring Men: Studies in the History of
Labour (New York, 1967; first published in 1964). A scholarly analysis of the labor
aristocracyphenomenonin Russiawould have to include, inter alia, an investigation of:
263
have had certaintendenciesin that direction,they were also pulled

in another,more militant directionby contacts with their counterparts in other Moscow factories. Of particularimportancewas the
Gopper(Hopper)factory,a somewhatlargermachineworkswhere,
toward the end of Senka'sfirst year of apprenticeship,labor unrest
was brewingand dissidentcircles of "conscious"workerswere forming under the militant leadershipof skilled pattern-makers.l3
Many
List pattern-makers
had acquaintancesamongthese Gopperworkers,
whom they lookedupon with a mixtureof respect and fear,referring
to them as "students"because of their reputed hostility to the Tsar
and disdain for religion. Senka too, when he began to meet these
workerson the streets, experiencedconflictingemotions of admiration and terror.But while sharingthe worker-"aristocrats'"
sense of
awe in their presence,Senkawas beginningto perceive the tentative
outlines of a new self-image, one that combined the skilled urban
workerand his technicalmasterywith the consciousworker-militant
who defiedconstitutedauthority.But he was not yet ready to take so
bold a step.
What held him back more than anything else was the continued
the absence in Russia proper of a strong legacy of traditionalartisan guilds; the closing
off of the craft union option to highly skilled workers because of the general illegality
of trade unions (before 1906); the absence (before 1906) of legal political parties; the
continued dispersal of skilled crafts in the countryside during years of industrial upsurge; the importantrole of foreigners and educated professionalsin supervisorypositions in Russian industry, thereby hindering the upward mobility of skilled Russian
workers and their social identification with their immediate superiors; the possibility
that wage differentialsbetween skilled and semi-skilled workers were particularlylow
in Russia due to a combinationof the shortage of capital in industry and the instability
of the labor market.Though the problemhas been largely neglected by Soviet historians,
there is an interesting passage in a recent Soviet history of the Russian working class
in which the authors affirm the relative weakness of the labor aristocracy in Russia
and attribute this to the "peculiarities"of Russia's capitalist development (Istoriia
rabochego klassa Rossii, 1861-1900 gg., ed. L. M. Ivanov and M. S. Volin [Moscow,
1972], p. 226). Without elaboration,they estimate the labor aristocracyas no more than
4 percent of the Russian proletariat in the early 1900s; Hobsbawm's corresponding
figure for England (p. 336) is 15 percent. The earliest mention of a "laboraristocracy"
I have seen in reference to Russia is in the report of an official commissionthat investigated the huge Krengol'mstrike in Narva in 1872 and concluded that the most militant
leadership was provided by highly skilled weavers who constituted a sort of labor
aristocracy.Rabochee dvizhenie v Rossii v XIX veke. Sbornikdokumentovi materialov,
ed. A. M. Pankratova(Moscow, 1950), vol. 2, pt. 1, p. 374.
13 See the report of the chief of Moscow guberniia gendarmesin Rabochee dvizhenie
v Rossii v XIX veke, vol. 4, pt. 1, p. 361, which also alludes to a "criminalcircle" organized by a pattern-makerat Moscow's Bromley machine works. The latter was soon
to be the scene of a majorand successful strike over the length of the workday. See ibid.,
pp. 412-13.
264
The Russian Review
inculcatedby his father. As long as

graspof the religion-cum-terror
it persistedit was highly unlikelythat he could identifyfully with the
consciousworker-militantwhose atheismfilled his soul with fearful
images of eternaldamnationand hellish torture.But technical mastery and growingpersonalindependencehad opened Senka'seyes to
change, and the ways of his father'svillage, alreadyburdensometo
him a year earlier,seemed even more open to questionthan before.
A total breakwith religion,the strongestlinkin the chain that bound
him to his past, would permithis furtherretreatfrom identification
of his shop,his zemliakKorovin,and
with the cruderpeasant-workers
his
father.
Senka
almost ripe for the picking when,
was
ultimately
toward the beginning of his second year of apprenticeship,Vasilii
Savinov,a 27-year-oldformerGopperworkerand veteranof factory
life in many parts of Russia,joined the pattern shop and began to
saturatehim with hithertounspeakableanti-religiousnotions. Even
before he had heard all his arguments,Senka began to fear they
would shatterhis faith.
Savinov,whose workbenchstood just three spaces from Senka's,
was no differentin appearancefrom the other pattern-makersSenka
had been learningto emulate.But as a personality-impetuous,agile,
free-wheeling,humorous,warm-he immediatelystood out in Senka's
eyes. Senkawas at once attractedand afraid.Was Savinov'sfriendly
tone, he wonderedalmost with hopeful anticipation,merely a subterfuge, part of an artfulplan to convertpoor Senkato his Godless
faith? If so it was an effective approach.The stranger'sbench soon
becamethe centerof jocularchatter,interwovenwith seriouspolitical
and religiousdiscussion,markedby the near absence of the heavy
cursingthat normallysalted workshopbantereven amongthe "aristocrats."It was humormost of all that broke the initial barrierbetween Savinovandhis curiousco-workers,with disparaginganecdotes
about priests-a genre, after all, in which even Senka'sfanatically
religiousfather had loved to indulge-taking precedence.Senkawas
impressed.
But things became more serious as Savinovbegan to close in on
Senka'smoreessentialvaluesby assaultingthe dogmathat lay at the
heartof his religioussensibility-infernalretribution:A workershould
realizethat his hell was here on earth,which was the paradiseof the
rich. The pains of hell were nothing more than the stratagemof
265
priests,whose functionit was to obscurethe truthfrom the common

people. Then,for the firsttime, Senkawas exposedto quasi-scientific
explanationsof such phenomenaas the originsof the earth and the
evolutionof man,none the less effectivefor the simplicitywith which
they were presented.It was a crash course in scientific atheism for
beginners.
Lacking the wherewithal to refute these distressing arguments,
Senkaboiled with rage at Savinov'sevil words,wonderedif he could
be a devil in disguise,but the moreflusteredand helpless he became
in the face of the new gospel,the morehe felt he was in the presence
of the truth.Questionshe had long consideredresolvedsuddenlybegan to turn slowly in his brain,"as if a piece of thin cold steel was
being thrustinto it."
world,the moralfoundations
My beliefs,my viewsof the surrounding
withwhichI hadlivedandgrownup so nicely,peacefully,comfortably
-suddenly beganto shake.... Shiversranup my spine-I becamecold
andterrified,
as if I werepreparing
to leapacrosssomeabyss.Butat the
sametimeI feltlightandfreewhenI remembered
thattogetherwiththe
old principleswouldalsodisappearthatterriblenightmarethatthreatenedme withthe torturesof hell....
Clearlya counter-religiousconversionexperienceof the first magnitude was underway,though one for which the previous years had
preparedthe groundmore fully than Kanatchikov'ssuggestionof a
bolt deliveredfrom the blue implies.
Once the initial breakthroughhad been made, other openingsfollowed swiftly. Senkabegan to meet frequently with Savinov,who
providedhim with a varied,eclectic diet of illegal readingmaterials.
These he devoured greedily, his appetite whetted by curiousity,
thoughan elementof fearpersisted.Someof the worksremainedvivid
to him decadeslater: translationsof Hauptmann'splay The Weavers
and the Polish radicalpamphletWhat Should Every WorkerKnow
and Remember?;Plekhanov'sdramaticrecollectionsof the 1870sThe
RussianWorkerin the RevolutionaryMovement.'4All writings that
14 The pamphlet Chto nuzhno znat' i
pomnit' kazhdomu rabochemu?was originally
issued in 1883 and reprinted by the Union of Russian Social Democrats in Geneva in
1895. Plekhanov's Russkii rabochii v revoliutsionnomdvizhenii (po lichnym vospominaniiam), a rich source of first-handinformationon the Petersburg labor movement of
the 1870s, was issued by Plekhanov as a pamphlet in 1892 (it appeared simultaneously
266
The Russian Review
elevated the workerto centerstage, these and othermotley readings,

coupledwith Savinov'scontradictorymixof militantatheism,vaguely
Marxistsocialism,and Tolstoyancommittmentto non-violentresistance to evil, were not the stufffromwhich to fashiona well-defined
ideologicalposition.But this was of little import.What counted for
Senkawas his exaltedsenseof havingentereda new road,a dangerous
but exhilaratingone that led for the firsttime towarda purposefullife,
comparedto which his previouslife had been but a dull and empty
routine.The religiouslink in the chain that held him to his past had
been weakened,thoughnot yet broken,and, as presentedby a "conscious"workersuch as Savinov,the assaultagainstreligionwas intimately bound to a broaderassault against constitutedauthorityas
well. Senka'sreceptivityto these ideas had grownin tandemwith his
developing sense of professionalautonomy and personal independence. The masteryof new skillswas heighteningthe attractiveness
of masteringa new worldview.15
Althoughhis spiritualtransformationwas still far from complete,
Senkawasted no time in translatingit into action, and the natureof
his initial moves is revealing.He withdrew from the artel-with its
disturbingremindersof his village past, previouslya sourceof solace
and security-and moved into a new apartmentwith a like-minded
comrade.Having cast off this crutch,he defiantlyrefused to attend
confession,abandonedhis observationof fast days, and shruggedoff
Korovin'sdesperateattemptsto returnhim to the righteouspath.
Yet these helter-skelteractionsbelied (or did they betray?)the incompletenessof Senka'sconversion.Despite his departurefrom the
artel',Senka'scontactswith Korovinand his companionshipwith his
son Vankacontinuedfor severalmonths.True,the continuedfriendin his periodical Sotsial-Demokrat,nos. 3 and 4), partly in order to show Russian
worker-militantsthat they had predecessors from whom they could draw inspiration.
All these works (including The Weavers) were extensively used by socialist agitatorsin
Russia in the mid- and late-1890s, especially Chto nuzhno znat'.
It is noteworthy that although Plekhanov'spamphlet (see his Sochineniia, III [Moscow and Petrograd, 1923]) had little to say on the subject, Kanatchikovremembersits
main impact on him as having been to clarify his father's confused stories about Petersburg "nagilisty."He follows this remarkwith the statement: "Now my emancipation
from my old prejudices moved forward at an accelerated tempo."
15 Cf. Erikson, Identity, p. 38: "A new generation growing up with and in technological and scientific progress as a matter of course will be prepared by the daily
confrontation with radically new practical possibilities to entertain radically new
modes of thought. This may form a link between a new culture and new forms of society, allowing for ways of balancing specializationwith new inner freedom."
267
ship with Vankawas not entirelyinconsistentwith Senka'snew mood

of defiance,since Vankahimself liked to evade his religiousobligations, albeit more in a mischieviousthan in a hereticalspirit. In any
case, a clean breakwith the past was not yet on the agenda,and the
strengthand resilienceof the psychologicalunderpinningsto his old
attachments,includingreligion,had not yet been put to the test. The
real challengeto Senka'snew ways would come when he was forced
to exposethemto the powerof his childhoodenvironment:the village
home to which he regularlyreturnedon majorholidays."'
Even before his returnto Gusevopreliminaryskirmishesbegan to
be conductedby mail. The correspondencewas initiatedby Korovin,
who made good his threatsto informIvan of Senka'sdeviance.Ivan,
in turn, stepped up his reproofsof Senka,firstby mail, then, during
the followingholiday visit, face to face.
During the visit Senkafelt himself deeply divided, torn between
the urge to brandishhis new beliefs aggressivelyand a spontaneous
tendency to sink back into his old ways, most clearly manifestedby
the sudden resurgenceof an impulse to cross himself. He dared to
argueaboutreligionwith his father,but felt constrainedin these debates to grant the possibilityof God'sexistence, a gesture that may
have reflectedhis own ambiguityas much as considerationfor Ivan's
feelings. On the whole, these "theological"discussionsseem to have
progressedwithout excessiverecriminationsfrom Ivan. Indeed, Senka'snewly discoveredcapacityto outarguehis fatherin this areaeven
evinceda measureof paternalpridein the old man-always something
of a priest-eaterin his own right-and may thereby have dissipated
the force of his reproval.Only when Senkahad returnedto Moscow,
and Korovinresumedhis letters of warning,would Ivan's anger be
rekindledand his own "edifying"lettersto his apostateson resumein
earnest.
What provedto be a greatersourceof tensionin the conversations
between the two Kanatchikovswas the issue, related to but distinct
from the religiousquestion,of Senka'sfuture;in effect, of his future
socialidentity.The two questionsconverged,and it was at theirpoint
of contact that the very quality of the father-sonrelationshipwould
16 On the return of Moscow factory workers-even those who had abandoned all
agriculturalwork-to their villages on major holidays in the late nineteenth century,
see V. I. Romashova, "Obrazovaniepostoiannykh kadrov rabochikh v poreformennoi
promyshlennostiMoskvy,"in Rabochii klass i rabochee dvizhenie v Rossii: 1861-1917,
ed. L. M. Ivanov et al. (Moscow, 1966), pp. 154-55.
268
The Russian Review
be determined.For Ivan, the questionof Senka'sfuturelife on earth

seemed even more emotionally charged than the question, with
which it was partiallyenmeshed,of his afterlife.What exercisedthe
old man most of all was his perceptionof Senka'scomplete indifference to their village home, to their peasanthouseholdand economy,
a charge,of course,to which Ivan himselfhad been open throughout
much of his adult life. Ivan'sfeelings on these matterswere heightened by his sense of his impendingdeath. The emotionalpeak of
Senka'svisit was reachedon one occasionwhen Ivan gravelyunveiled
to his waveringson a coffinhe had preparedfor himselfand pleaded
with him to marry,settle in the village, and take over the family
household before he died. Only then could Ivan die in peace, the
tranquilityof his afterlifeassuredby the knowledgethat he lived on
in the personof his dutiful son.
Shielded by distancefrom the lure of his new craft, Senka came
perilouslyclose to succumbingto his father'spleas, to abandoning
his resistance,as it were, to retracinghis father'sidealizedpath. But
insteadhe chose a middle course.Emotionallyincapablefor the moment of eitheracquiescenceor outrightdefiance,he retreatedbehind
an excuse for procrastinationthat he would find occasion to utilize
again:marriage-anindispensabledesideratumin Ivan'sprogramfor
him-was senselessand impracticableuntil he had fulfilledhis military obligations.
The tug of war continueduntil the Christmasholidaysof 1896-97,
nearlytwo years after Senkafirstarrivedin Moscow.In the interval,
Senka'sidentificationwith his new industrialworldhad grownapace.
His delight in the patternshop and in his successin meeting its challenges had transcendedits walls and begun to evolve into a wider
fascinationwith the massivepower of the machineindustry.Increasingly at ease in his new craft,he had begun to visit the factory'sother
shopsand acquainthimselfwith the part his own workplayed in tlhe
overallschemeof machineproduction.With its thickchainsand giant
cranes,its intenselyperspiring,darkened,rough-and-readyworkers,
it was the foundry-the locationwheremachinepartswere cast in the
molds preparedin his own shop-that excited him the most. Striking
too was the assembly shop, where Senka-presumablyon his own
time-would join other workersin proudlyobservingthe paintingof
the shiney finishedproduct:"a powerfulbeauty-the steam engine."
Having begun to comprehendthe functioning of the entire plant,
269
Senkanow found himself "possessedby the poetry of the great factory, with its powerfulrumblingsof metal, the puffingof steam machines,columnsof high chimneysexpellingcloudsof blacksmoke....
And the morethese imagesabsorbedhim, the morehis new industrial
life appearedas an infinitelymore attractivesubstitutefor life in his
village communityand amonghis kinfolk:
to the factory,to the peoplewho worked
I was drawnunconsciously
there,who werebecomingmy own people,my relatives.I felt impassionedby the factory,by its stempoetryof labor,whichwas becoming
dearerand closerto me thanthe quiet,peaceful,lazy poetryof torpid
villagelife.
A retrospectiveromanticization?Perhaps. But given the intensive
pressuresfromhis family to returnto the village, and takinginto account the conventionalwisdom of villagers'revulsionat the darksatanic mills, it is difficultto envision Senka'sresistanceto those pressuresin the absenceof similarsentiments.
Fortifiedand sensitizedby his renewedcommittmentto the industrial milieu, Senkadepartedwith Vankaand Korovinon his "fateful"
Christmasholiday. His sense of its fateful quality may have been
heightened from the outset by his knowledge that the visit was intended to decide the future of young Vanka,whose path up to this
time had, on the surface, closely parallelledhis own. For Korovin,
like Ivan,was determinedthat his son shouldmarrya village girl, and
the corollarywas eventual resettlementin the village. Since Vanka
lackedthe sparkof filialindependencethat energizedrebellionin his
friend, for Senka it was not unlike being a witness to the possible
courseof his own futurelife.
As it turnedout, Senkawas morethan a passiveobserverto Vanka's
accomodationto his father'swishes. He participatedfully in the preparationsfor the wedding,servedas Vanka'sbest man, and thoroughly
enjoyedthe attendantvillage celebrations.All that transpiredseemed
no doubt endowedwith the unchallengablepermanenceof natureitself. Predictably,in the courseof his two-weekholiday Senkafound
himselfunderrelentlessfamilypressure,this time fromhis sistersand
auntsin particular,to follow the joyfulexampleof his docile friendby
declaringhimselffor the sister,selectedfor him in advance,of Vanka's
homelybut healthy village bride. A single word of assent could well
have altered the course of Senka'slife, relegatinghis name to rural
270
The Russian Review
oblivion.Caughtup in the sweepof events,he apparentlycamewithin

a shadowof succumbing,but once againhe was rescuedby the argumentof impendingmilitaryservice.But this timethe experiencemade
him more resolute.After so close a call the fear that his luck would
finallyrunout, that anothersuchbrushwith fate mighttransformhim
into anotherVanka(thoughas it transpired,Vankawas not fated to
resettle in the village17)helped catapaulthim to a portentuousdecision.The way it was executedstronglysuggestshe continuedto doubt
his own strengthof will. When Easterapproachedthat springhe simply decidednot to returnto Gusevofor the holidays,as he alwayshad
done. He never returnedto confronthis family and communitywith
his choicedirectly.Fourmoreyearswereto elapsebeforehe returned,
and then only under orders from the police. However timidly, his
decisionhad been made.Saveforsomeboutsof nostalgiain the lonelinessof prison(1902),he wouldneverbe temptedby the "quiet,peaceful, lazy poetry"of Gusevoagain.
The Christmastrip was "fateful"in yet another,perhapsless farreachingway. Because he had failed to make appropriatearrangements to extend his stay for the extradays requiredfor the wedding
festivities, Senkareturnedto Moscowto find he had been dismissed
fromhis preciousjob at the List works.Althoughthis was a bitterpill
to swallow,we must resist the temptationto assigntoo much weight
to his resentmentover this blow in explainingSenka'ssubsequent
antipathyto management.On the one hand the forceof the blow was
quicklymitigated,for his skillswere now developedto the point and
demandfor themsufficientlyhigh to enablehim to findan even better
paid positionon the following day, and this despite the unfavorable
circumstancesof his dismissal.l8He was accepted at the Bromley
17 No doubt out of economic considerations,Vanka and his wife settled in the city
of Moscow, where he pursued a successful career at the List factory and kept out of
trouble both before and after the October Revolution. Kanatchikov,who apparently
saw his old friend on rare occasions, claims that Vanka was still working at the same
factory in the 1920s. And true to his father's memory, he was still attending confession
every year.
18The reader should take note of the ease with which Kanatchikov repeatedly
found new positions in Moscow and Petersburg in the course of the following years
despite his involvement in political activities. The blacklisting of unruly workers was
commonplacein Russianfactories, and Kanatchikovdid suffer from it occasionally,but
on the whole one is left with the impression that it was not carried out with great
efficiency in this period, at least not in highly skilled trades where the worker commanded a favorableposition in the labor market.
271
factory,where his anxiety was swiftly dispelled when, having been

duly tested by his new supervisor,he learnedthat his days of apprenticeshipwere over.The eighteen-year-oldrenegadepeasant,who still
regrettednever having rubbedhis face with onions to stimulatethe
growth of his facial hair, had attained the title and status of fullfledgedpattern-maker,at double his previouswage. So greatwas his
pridein his achievementthat, for the firsttime in his life, he felt himself to be an adult, a feeling he would hardlyhave sustainedhad he
returnedto his fatherin Gusevo.
So Senka'sdismissalturnedout to be an unexpectedblessing,to his
ego as well as to his purse-hardly the explanationof an ongoing
resentment.And conversely,even well before his dismissal,he had
been exposed to situationsat the List factory that begin to account
for what subsequentlybecamehis generalizedhostility towardmanagementand, most importantly,that shed some light on how it eventually came about-at this time the outcomewas still uncertain-that
Senka'sintenseidentificationwith the factory(clearlyhe was anything
but "alienatedfromthe productof his labor")was not translatedinto
a more general complacencywith the existing system of industrial
relations.For surely,havingchosento severhis ties with the countryside, he still was left with the remainingoption of emulating the
model of those skilledand successfulurbanworkerswho, even while
mouthingsomehereticalideason the shopflooror in the tavern,managed to keep out of troublewith the factory administrationand constructedtheirnon-workinglives aroundthe enjoymentof the distractions of city life which they were in a favorableposition to exploit.
Later we will see that for a brief moment,the outcome of his brush
with this alternativewas as much in doubt as the outcomeof his confrontationwith traditionalvillage life had been in Gusevo. Not the
least of the many virtuesof these memoirsis that they enable us to
observethe thoroughlyhumanvacillationsof a workerat these and
other crossroadsin his life. His ultimatechoice, as I will try to show,
while in part a matterof contingency,was heavily influencedby and
expressiveof certaindeeply ingrainedpredispositionsacquiredunder
the influence,both positive and negative, of his family life, and his
father'sexamplein particular,in Gusevo.Senkawas morethe creature
of his past, even as an urbanworker,than he imagined. But for the
moment,let us brieflyglance at those featuresof the factoryadmini-
272
The Russian Review
strationthat, even before his decisionto shun the path of careerism

and the pleasuresof city life, encouragedhim to distinguishbetween
his attractionto the factory as such and his feelings about its administrators.
Three featurescome quickly to mind, two of them obliquely but
significantlyrelated to Senka'squest for personalindependenceand
pride in his new professionalidentity. First, the fact that the factory
administration,typicallypatriarchalin its approachto its employees,
made concertedand continuouseffortsto imbue them with a proper
religiosity.From the vantage point of a budding heretic, this meant
that the owners and administratorsof the same enterprisethat was
socializinghim to the new industrialworld and thereby facilitating
his apostacyfromthe traditionsof his childhoodwere at the sametime
endeavoringto preservein him the religious mores that he was in
the processof rejecting,recreating,as it were, his old dependencyin
a new setting.Thissituationcouldonlylead himto distinguishsharply
between the elements that attractedhim to his industrialenvironment and the persons (or institutions)who controlledit and whom
he would come to identify quite simply as "the capitalists,"while
fusing his resentmenttowardthem with his hostility toward the official church.Herewere the elements for a protean distinctionbetween the "forcesof production"(positive)and the "relationsof production"(negative),but in which the contradictionbetween the two
had muchmoreto do with socialpsychologythan economics.
Second,and in a similarvein, the administration-aswas common
in suchpatriarchalsituations-coupledits concernwith its employees'
spiritualwell-beingwith an excessivepreoccupationwith theirmoral
conduct,oftennarrowlydefinedas the discouragementof debauchery.
A particularlyoffensive(thoughhardly effective) expressionof this
concern was the requirementthat every worker undergo a public
examinationof his private parts for signs of venereal disease (very
widespreadat the factory)while waiting on the payline on the eve
of majorholidays.It was as if one'spersonaland public debasement
was the preconditionto one's return to the conditions of childish
dependenceassociatedwith visits to the village. This humiliatingexperience-which Kanatchikovrecallsmost vividly in connectionwith
his departurefor the "fateful"Christmasholidaybeforehis dismissal
-had to have been the sourceof particularlydeep resentmentand in-
273
juredpridein the spiritof a youth in the processof strugglingtoward

a new definitionof adult identity, rooted in his new self-respectas a
craftsman.
Finally, on a somewhatdifferentplane, the issue of the length of
the workday(probablythe most provocativepoint of contentionin
Russianfactoriesin the mid-1890s)served not only to place Senka,
together with many co-workers,in direct conflict with the List administration,but also, more to the point here, to raise seriousdoubts
in his mind as to the administration'sown self-assuranceand hence
the legitimacyof its authority.Thoughfairly well paid for a sixteenyear old novice, Senkahad begun his apprenticeshipwith an exhausting 111/2-hour
workdaythat left him in a conditionto do nothingbut
in
the
evenings.Paradoxically,when he and the other patternsleep
makerswere grantedthreeeight-hourdays in honorof the coronation
celebrationsof May 1896,List'sbenevolenceservedto heighten their
dissatisfactionby highlightingthe contrastbetween the "sweetness"
of the eight-hourday and the rigorsof their normalroutine.A vague
hope that hoursmight soon be reducedwas alreadyin the air when,
shortly thereafter,the news arrivedof the great Petersburgtextile
strikeof May-June,1896.19In their first significantact of solidarity,
the List workersquicklytook up a collection(initiatedby Savinov)in
supportof the Petersburgstrikefund. Fromthis point on they began
to view morefavorablythe activitiesof the Gopperworkers,the "students,'"towardwhom they had been so ambivalent.These signs of
who had provided Senka
rapprochementbetween the "aristocrats"
with his firstpositivemodel and the awe-inspiring"students,"already
partiallydemystifiedby the day-to-daypresenceof the friendlySavinov, may have helped to propel Senkain the directionof activism.
Then, of particularimportancefor our understandingof Senka'sattitude towardhis employers,came List's decision, in the wake of the
Petersburgstrike, to reduce the workdayto ten hours.20Whatever
the actual casual relationshipbetween these events, what is note19 For a good analysis of the Petersburg events see Wildman, Making of a Workers'
Revolution, pp. 73-77. A large selection of the relevant documents has been published
in Rabochee dvizhenie v Rossii v XIX veke, vol. 4, pt. 1, pp. 218-337.
20 The 10-hour day was the central goal of the Petersburg textile strike. Although
not immediately successful, the strike led indirectly to the 1897 legislation introducing
the ll2-hour workday, effective Jan. 1, 1898 (Pol'noe Sobranie Zakonov, series 3, no.
14231).
274
The Russian Review
worthyis Senka'sperceptionof the concessionas a sign of weakness,

one that diluted whatever aura of sanctity and invulnerabilitythe
administration(as distinguishedfrom the factory) may have previously maintainedin his eyes. The well-knowncatastropheof Khodynkafield21(whichSenkamissedby a luckychance)and the ensuing
malaiseit caused among the Moscowpopulation,includingthe List
workers,were contemporaneouswith the events just depicted.All of
them became entangledin Senka'simpressionablemind, broadening
his still unformulateddistrustof those in authorityto include those
with politicalas well as economicpower.
Thushe arrivedat the Bromleyworkswith little inclinationto translate his euphoriaoverpromotionand the publicrecognitionof his matured skillsinto gratitudetowardhis new employers.Yet, to repeat,
even his hostility to managementdid not close off the possibilityof
followinga coursethat avoidedconfrontationand allowedhim to enjoy the fruitsof higherwages and the smallworldlypleasuresof city
life (in Kanatchikov'swords: meshchanskaiasvetskost').To put it
anotherway, the skilledyoung worker,potentiallya worker-"aristocrat,"having desertedthe rustichabits of the worker-peasant,could
lead the life outside the factory of a smalltimeurban dandy, while
within the factory he followed the path of many of his skilled colleagues;perhapsderidinghis employersand supervisorsin much the
samemanneras his fathercursedthe villagepriests,even engagingin
calculatedactsof protest,but withoutadoptingor actingupona "conscious"critiqueof the total system, any more than his father would
fundamentallyattackthe underpinningsof his faith. In short,the option of not becominga fully "conscious"workerwas still before him
and, despite the distancehe had alreadytravelled, Senka was preparedto test it.
The prototypefor such an existencewas embodiedfor Senkain his
closefriendStepka,a joiner'sapprenticeat List's.Handsome,stylishly
dressed,witty, alwayssuccessfulwith girls,Stepkawas a masterof all
the modishcity dances,was quick to learn the latest anecdoteswith
which to amusehis friends,charmedthe girlsfroma local candyfactory with his humor and guitar playing. Frequently and uncere21 The site of ceremonies celebrating the coronation of Nicholas II, at which hundreds of innocent spectators were crushed to death in a stampede set off by wildly
frantic police.
275
moniously,Kanatchikovrecountssomewhatdisapprovingly,but with
undertonesof envy echoing over the spanof years,Stepkasucceeded
in "tearingoff the flowersof pleasure."
Senka'smood at the evening partieswhere most of this transpired
was an amalgamof embarassmentand jealousy,as he alternatedlong
periods of helpless withdrawalwith awkwardefforts to imitate his
comrade.Sometimeshe would curse himself for his inability to put
himselfat ease in the companyof girls,but he was willing, even anxious to try. He began to pay more attention to his appearance,purchased fashionableclothing, and found a teacher to instructhim in
the latest Moscow dances. His programof "worldlyself-education"
(svetskoesamoobrazovanie)even included the acquisitionof a book
on dancing and good manners self-taught (Samouchitel tantsev i
khoroshegotona), replete with advice on such mattersas the impropriety of using one's table napkinfor nose-wiping.The shedding of
peasantways, afterall, could involvemorethan the acquisitionof industrialskills.
Senkamade some progressin the art of dancing,but it led to no
discernibleabatementof his discomfiturewith girls, Stepka'senthusiastic assistancein this area notwithstanding.For a few months,
Senkaforcedhimselfthroughthe motionsof gay revelry,even participating in one of the ritualizedbrawls over women that frequently
broke out among rival groupsof workersat the vecherinki,but the
eventualoutcomeof all these endeavorswas failure.
Not unlikehis breakwith the villageat the time of Vanka'swedding,
the terminationof Senka'sbrief and ill-fated career as urban dandy
was associatedwith an event that stunnedhim with the shockof recognition. During the Easter holiday of 1897, his first holiday away
from the village, Senka donned his holiday best and accompanied
Stepkato a Moscowtavernwhere they indulged in a huge alcoholic
fling. Afterhoursof noisy revelryand enormousquantitiesof vodka,
beer, and cigarettes(still a non-smoker,he acceptedthe cigarettes"to
be sociable"),the half-stupefiedSenkadiscoveredhimself staggering
up the stairsof his apartmentbuildingin a state of nauseaand confusion.Overcomeby shame,with a "tortured,remorsefulconscience"he
tottered into the apartmenthe now shared with a marriedcouple,
determinedto conceal his conditionfrom the wife, a pious woman
whose respect he had earned for his uncommonsobriety.When he
276
The Russian Review
awokethe next morninghe cleanedthe "tracesof my crime,""myfirst

fallinginto sin,"fromthe stairwayandsolemnysworeto himselfnever
againto toucha dropof vodka.The oathwas kept,in spiritif not to the
letter. Althoughhe would engage in casualsocial drinkingfrom time
to time,he would neveragainpermithimselfto descendinto the condition of alcoholicdepravity.Of broadersignificance,his Easterdebauch,which markedthe end of Senka'ssecondyear in Moscow,also
marked the end of his painful and short-livedflirtationwith meshchanskaiasvetskosf,the pursuitof a life of petty urbandistractions.
From this point on, though a moderateinterestin good clothes and
the basic social gracesremainedwith him, the model of the hedonistic urbandandy would be repellent.To become a serious,militant,
dedicated,and "conscious"workerwas now the only choice that lay
before him, barringthe now unthinkablechoice of returningto the
countryside.
Kanatchikovhimselfwas to lookbackon this abridgedphase of his
careeras a sort of spiritualbattle between the angel Savinovand the
diabolical,seductiveforces of meshchanstvo(represented,we would
add, by Stepka)for possessionof his soul, the temporarytriumphof
the latterbeing accountedfor by Savinov'sfortuitousdeparturefrom
Moscow.This picture seems inadequate,for insofaras it suggests a
battle of equals,it fails to take into accountthe deep, involuntaryresistancesto masteringthe hedonisticstyle of life that Senkaclearly
manifestedand presentsin the guise of a yieldingto temptationwhat
appearto have been more like strainedacts of willful experimentation. That the spirited peasant youth could attain the mastery of
complexindustrialskillsand attunehimselfto the "poetry"of factory
life with such aplomb,and yet prove so inept at masteringthe techniques of easy social intercourseand effortlessdebauch, betrays a
deeply troubledconsciencepredisposedto censureSenkawhen face
to face with the prospectof succumbingto hedonisticgratifications,
particularlyin regard to drink and relationshipswith women. To
speculateon the sourcesof this psychologicaldispositionis riskybut
necessary.
In largepart,I would argue,it was rootedin the negativemodel of
life in his father'shousehold, in childhood memories of gruesome
scenesof paternaldepravityassociatedwith intoxicationand the brutalizationof his mother.With respect to drinking,we have already
277
noted the role of such experiencesin Senka'saversionto the peasant

modelof behavior,andhis disgustat the sight of himselfin an extreme
state of inebriation,as it turnedout, was not to be mitigatedby the
mere fact that the drinkingwas taking place among more sophisicated urbanworkers.With respect to relationshipswith women, we
may be on shakierground,but the salientpoint seems to be the total
absenceof any modelof a soundand warmrelationshipbetween man
andwomanin Senka'schildhoodexperience,the relationshipbetween
his father and motherhavingbeen characterizedinstead by physical
dominanceand fearful submissionand ultimately, as Senka experienced it, by murder.We have watched Senkabalk at the prospectof
marriagein the village,correctlyperceivingit as the firststep into the
abyss of village life. To this we can now add the possibilitythat the
fear of marriedlife itself played an independentrole in stiffeninghis
resistance,the two aspectsmeshingin that both evokedthe specterof
replicatingthe life of his father.
Furtherevidencethat he generalizedhis resistancesto village marriage into a more sweeping rejectionof settled family life in any setting, including the working-classmilieu of the city, is suggested by
his subsequentcareer. His discomfiturein the presence of women,
thoughit eventuallyreceded,continuedwell into his politicalperiod.
Kanatchikovadmitsthat until his firstencounter,in 1898,with a couple of Petersburgfactory women who sharedhis militantviews, his
he acceptedthe prevailingwisdomamonghis fellow
"consciousness,"
workersthat the femaleworkerwas a "creatureof a lowerorder,"who
lackedall interestin "highermatters,"an obstacleto the development
of the males with whom she came in contact. It was almost as if he
could only envisionwomen as part of a peasantand, by extension,an
animalmilieu. Moreover,while claimingto have finallytranscended
these prejudices,he extendedits basic animusinto a doctrinairedefense of bachelorhoodas a necessaryconditionfor the evolution of
working-classconsciousness,shiftinghis ground,of course,from the
ideologicallyindefensibleone of femaleinferiorityto the ideologically
palernotionthat it was impracticalfor the workerto servetwo godshis family and the revolutionarycause. Kanatchikovrecalls that for
many of the "conscious"workersin his circles, himself clearly included, a negative attitudetowardthe family,marriage,even women
in general, was viewed as a necessity and close relationshipswith
278
The Russian Review
womenas an "attackon theirpersonalfreedom,"potentiallyentailing

"theloss of a comradefor the revolutionarycause.""Toraisea family
meant, at best, to add the sufferingsof their dear ones to their own,
and at worst-to abandonthe revolutionunder the weight of family
burdens."
These sentimentswere partiallyrooted in the social and political
realitiesof the times,as witnesstheirwide acceptanceamongactivist
workers(and,incidentally,in intelligentsiacircles)not only in Senka's
times, but as early as the 1870s.22But broad historicalexplanations
are often most convincingwhen they convergewith the lines of an
individual'spersonalhistory,and it is impossibleto ignore the subterraneantunnel that leads from Senka'spainfulfamily life through
his rejectionof village marriage,his adoption of his co-workersas
surrogate "relatives," his embarrassment in attempting to socialize
with girls,andfinallyemergesin his generalizedobjections,embedded

in a politicalconstruct,to marriagefor "conscious"workers.Whether
or not this chainof experiencewas sufficientlytypicalof the past lives
of otherworkersin Senka'sbroadmilieu to help account,in conjunction with practicalpolitical considerations,for the breadth of their
antipathyto marriage(orwhether,in practice,theirresistanceto marriage was really so widespread)is a difficultbut valuablesubjectfor
furtherresearch.
Finally,it is possiblethat Senka'salmostreflexresistancesto the life
of mundanerevelryandpleasuremay alsohave representeda formof
unconsciousobedienceto the stricturesof his father,makinghis outwardrebelliousnessmoreinwardlyacceptable.It will be recalledthat
in earlieryears Ivan had often spokenof the evil temptationsof the
city life he knew so well, a warning that the impressionableSenka
had surelyinternalized,while perhapssuspectingthat his fatherhad
22 For workers,see Plekhanov,Russkiirabochii,which Kanatchikov,as already noted,
had read. See also the memoirs of Plekhanov'scomrade the revolutionaryPopulist, M.
R. Popov, who tells of members of workers'circles in Rostov-on-Don (1877) who complained that their participation was causing friction with their wives and of conflicts
between single and married workersbecause of the latter's timidity during the Thornton textile strike (Petersburg, 1878). Popov, Zapiski zemlevol'tsa (Moscow ,1933; first
published in 1907 and 1920-21), pp. 83, 96-97, 177, 187.
One can hardly help noticing the conflict between such testimonies, including of
course Kanatchikov'sadvocacy of working-class bachelorhood, even abstinence, and
the stress that Soviet historianshave placed on the rise of the "familyworker"as a development that facilitated the growth of revolutionary class consciousness and militancy among workers.
279
yielded to these temptationshimself. But the point here is broader

than any specificwarnings,for it seems to me that anyonewho patiently samplesthe textureof these memoirswill be drawnto the conclusionthat his father'sreligiousand moralstrictures,howevertransformedinto a secular,even atheistmorality,continuedto functionin
Senkaas a voice of conscience,tendingto represswhatevertemptation
he had to exploithis rejectionof religionand the village for material
or sensualadvantage.Having painfullytriumphedover his terrorof
Ivan'shell below, Senkawas best preparedto devote himself to the
noble task of conqueringSavinov'shell on earth.His internalconflict
ended definitivelywith the shameevokedby his Easterfiasco,but its
echoes could be heardagainin the irasciblesensitivityevincedwhenever, in the years ahead, he witnessed signs of the happy-go-lucky,
pleasure-seeking,rowdylife amonghis fellow workers.Thus did vestiges of his father'sawesomepresenceremainwith Senkawell beyond
the periodwhen he had ceased to identify himself as a peasant.
Senka'ssecond fateful holiday, like his first,was immediatelyfollowed by the loss of his job, thoughthis time there was no directconnectionbetween the events.At mostit mightbe notedthat his transfer
to a thirdfactory-the Mytishchenskiirailroad-carworksneara village
on the outskirtsof the city-provided him with an excellent opportunity to resumehis political evolution unclutteredby the social and
personalrelationshipsthat had caused him so much anguish in the
previous month. Not that his experimentswith consciousnesshad
ceased entirelyin the periodof his experimentswith meshchanaskaia
svetskost',for he had continued his active participationin quasiseditious,for the mostpart anti-religiousdiscussionswithin the walls
of the Bromleyworks,and occasionallyoutside them as well. But his
transfertorehim awayfromStepka'smilieu,therebyloweringthe risk
of recidivism,while the apparentconnectionbetween his dismissal
and the Bromleyadministration'sdiscovery of his subversiveideas
was nothingless than a badge of honor.
Moreconfident,in his skillsas well as in his courage,than ever before, Senkawas barely distressedat having to change jobs. Industry
was flourishing,highly skilledworkerswere at a premium.The Mytishchenskiifactory was a new one: shiny, clean, of imposing sizemade to orderfor a buddingpoet of modernindustry.The age structure of the workforcewas also much to Senka'sliking, without the
280
The Russian Review
heavy baggage of old tradition-boundveterans(stariki),and the pattern shop in particularwas dominatedby young and independent
spiritscut in Senka'sown mold.Havingexecutedthe supervisor'stests
with sufficientcompetenceand ease to earnhim a wage that doubled
his earnings at Bromley'sand quadrupledhis apprentice'spay at
List's,Senkawas now in "seventhheaven."
In the political-ideologicalrealm,however, Senkawas still too insecurenot to feel the need for an olderauthorityfigureto fill the vacuum left by Savinov'sabsence.He soonfoundone in the personof his
metal workerand strikeveteranwho had
new landlord,a "conscious"
the
notorious
Gopper factory. Vasilii Klushin
recently worked at
sharedwhat was by now Senka'smilitantatheismand adheredto a
fanatical,if typicallyill-defined,politicalradicalism.Underhis influence, Senkasoonresumedhis readingof politicalliteratureand began
to broadenhis culturalhorizonsto include both Russianand West
Europeanclassics(e.g., Pushkin,Heine). Senkaquickly and proudly
gainedthe olderworker'sconfidence,and reciprocatedin kind.
Yet Klushindid not provide him with an unequivocallypositive
model.In his personallife he remindedSenkathat someof the characteristicshe had found so disturbingin his peasant father and other
villagerscould also be found in a "conscious"worker,for Klushintoo
was a heavy drinkerand, during his drunkenrages, an inveterate
wifebeater.Senkaoften found himself in the unsettlingposition he
had come to know so well in Gusevo:protectorof the innocent,selfsacrificingwomanfromthe blows of her senselesslyviolent husband.
Andeven as a politicalmodelKlushinwas not an unambiguoussource
of inspirationto his disciple.Klushin'smood was proneto pendulumlike swingsbetween an almostmindlesslyoptimisticfaith in the coming of a libertarian,egalitarian"heavenlykingdomon earth"and a
cynicalpessimismaboutthe likelihoodof everarousingRussia's"dark,
darkworkingpeople."These sharpvacillations,combinedwith a bitter-sweetsense that his most gloriousdays of activismwere already
behind him, left Klushinin the postureof a sort of parlormilitant,
reluctantto involvehimselfactively in the local labormovement.
Fromhis intensecontactswith KlushinSenkasoonextrapolatedthe
outlinesof yet anothervariantin his growingtypology of workers,a
type he alreadyhad dimlyperceivedbefore and which he was to encounter again in his Petersburgyears: the "culturedworker-loner,"
281
a well-read,experienced,but now isolatedolder man, no longer willing to exposehimselfto risks,but still worthyof esteemby virtueof his
readinessto pass on his knowledge,experience,and personalcounsel
to younger,greenerworkers.
Senka'syouthful energy, his romanticyearningfor a more adventurousinvolvementin the world aroundhim, and the recentrejection
of the leadingalternativeway of life, conspiredto makesuch a model,
however admirable,inadequateto his personalneeds. Furthermore,
despite his recent exposureto the classics,the shallownessof Senka's
meagereducationalbackground,limited to the rudimentsof reading
and writingacquiredat the village school,made the masteryof complex political/economictexts (andhere we anticipatehis latermalaise
in the presenceof intelligenty)highlyproblematic.Furtherchallenges
in this area still awaitedhim, but for the momentface-to-faceverbal
encounterswith his peersprovideda moregratifyingformof encounter than the ennervatingstrugglewith complextexts that fascinated
Klushin.Most of his time away from the workbenchwas therefore
spent in verbal"combatwith humaninjustice,"enlightening"unconscious"workers,defendinghis "ideals."All these activitieshe came to
equate with "reallife"(zhivaiazhizn'),which he counterposedto the
"mind-boggling"(golovolomnye)theories with which he wrestled
under Klushin'sfriendly supervision,theories he feared might lead
him down the endlesspath of pessimism.In due courseit shouldbecome clearthat this discomfiturewith theorywas but a preludeto the
more anguishedfeelings of inadequacySenkawould experienceduring his manyencounterswith authenticintelligenty.
Senka'stour of duty at the Mytishchenskiifactory ended when a
hostile supervisordismissedhim on the pretextthat there were errors
in his work.Accepting this explanationat its face value, Senka-for
whom professionalpridewas now inseparablefrom sense of personal
identity-sufferedenormoushumiliation;it was with an immeasurable
feeling of relief, even delight, that he laterlearnedthat the chargeof
incompetencewas only a subterfugeandthe realcauseof his dismissal
had been, in effect, his dangeroustalk. For Senkadismissalon those
groundswas virtuallya triumph,andcertainlyno disgrace.He left the
factorymore self-confidentthan ever, more assuredthat he was now
a fully independent"adult."
His remainingmonthsin Moscow followed what was alreadybe-
282
The Russian Review
coming a well-establishedroutine: employmentat anotherfactory,

dismissal,a new job;a new companionshipwith a like-mindedyoung
morereadingand the discoveryof new authors,most
pattern-maker;
notablythe radicalpoet NikolaiNekrasov.
In part because he finallyfell victim to effective blacklisting,but
more broadlybecausehis Moscowroutineno longer seemed to offer
adequaterangefor Senka'sfurtherdevelopment,he beganto growincreasinglyinfatuatedby the lure of Petersburg,a city his father had
used to feed his youthfulfantasies,and which he now envisionedas a
andled a more
"promisedland,"whereworkersweremore"conscious"
"spiritedcomradelylife" than in the more provincialatmosphereof
Moscow.In the fall of 1898 the accomplishednineteen-year-oldpattern-maker,sure of his skills,his valor,his adulthood,needing only a
congenialmilieuin orderto place the seal of completionon his voyage
to "consciousness,"packed his tool box and a single suitcase and
boardedthe trainto the capital.
It would be misleadingto describethe fifteen months that Senka
Kanatchikovwould spend in Petersburg-until his residence there
was abruptlyterminatedby arrestand exile-as having played a decisive role in his personaland politicaldevelopment,for the general
patternof his future growthhad alreadybeen fixed in the course of
his yearsin Moscow.Instead,his Petersburgperiodshouldbe understood as one of consolidation,hardening,and roundingoff of his previously acquired identity of "conscious"worker, and the further
planing of some of its roughersurfaces.The first real sign that circumstancesmight expandthe identity of "conscious"workerinto the
even riskier,irreversibleexistencebeyond the law of a professional
revolutionarycame in any event with his initial encountersin the
capitalwith the revolutionaryintelligentsia.Confrontingthe intelligentsia certainly introduced a new and important conflict. If in
Moscow Senka'stransformationrevolvedin large part aroundan internaldialoguebetween Senkathe peasantand Senkathe conscious
worker,in Petersburga new, less polarizeddialoguewas launchedbut not yet completed-between Kanatchikov(as we may now refer
to him) the consciousworkerand the simultaneouslyattractiveand
unattainablefigureof Kanatchikovthe full-fledgedworker-intelligent,
drawnfromthe model of the radicalintelligentsia.But this new contest servednot so much to introduceanotherelement into Kanatchi-
283
kov's evolving self-identityas to test and ultimatelydefine its outer

limits.The courseof this complexinterchangerecapitulatedin microcosm some importantaspectsof the broaderinteractionbetween the
"conscious"stratumof the Russianworkingclass and its intelligentsia
counterpart,a problembest illuminatedwhen we introducethe story
of MatveiFisher.Finally,there were new complicationsin Kanatchikov's relationswith his father during his Petersburgperiod, but I
shall postpone discussionof these until our examinationof his reaction to his father'sdeath.
Let us brieflyreview the most significantof Kanatchikov'sexperiences in the capital.Upon arriving,he settled in with the Bykovfamily, distantrelativesof his fatherwho inhabitedthe heavily industrialized areanearthe city'sNeva gate (Nevskaiazastava).With its "forest of enormousfactorychimneys,"ubiquitousindustrialnoises, and
bustling crowds of harriedpeople, it was an area calculated to rekindlethe industrial"poetry"in Kanatchikov'ssoul. His firstjob, however, was in a metal factory in the Vyborg district on the northern
bank of the Neva river, and because of its distancefrom the Bykov
apartmenthe was forcedto resettlein new quarters.
These he shared with two other men from his factory, devout
(RomanCatholic),and fromhis perspectivelimited"grey"workersof
a type thathad earnedhis scornin the past and whose habitswhetted
againhis thirstfor more appropriatecompanionship.Soonhe moved
in with a somewhatmorecompatiblecomrade,but even then his circle
of acquaintanceswas too limited, their life too dull and uniformto
satisfy his "romanticorientation"(Kanatchikov'sexpression).An attempt to breakthe boredomof theirroutineby beatingup an abusive
foremanproducedKanatchikov'sfirst direct confrontationwith the
police and resulted in a ten-day jail sentence, foreshadowingmuch
longertermsyet to come.
Despite this incidentKanatchikovwas soon able to move on to one
of the most sought-afterfactory jobs in Petersburg,at the Germanowned Siemens-Halskeelectricalmachinepartsplant on Vasil'evskii
Island.Conditionsthere were reknownedfor their excellence,wages
were adequate,and the administrationmade a special effortto treat
its workerswith a degree of respect that Kanatchikovhad never encounteredfromany of his six previousindustrialemployers.The factory soughtand attracteda highly skilledand civilizedtype of worker
284
The Russian Review
-including many Germansand other foreigners-who took pride in

his fancy clothingand personalcleanliness;some even came to work
on bicycles, a sort of status symbol for workersin that period. But
Kanatchikov,while no doubtpreferringthis atmosphereto the cruder
milieuof the "greys,"by now was well beyondbeing seducedby these
favorableconditionsand moreurbanestyle of life. Insteadhe took a
room with two of the workerswho sharedhis special "higherinterests."Throughthem he now enteredinto his initialcontactswith radical intelligenty,encountered-forthe firsttime and to his greatastonishment-"conscious"female workers,and had his first tastes of life
in the more or less organized"circle"of consciousworkers-kruzhkovshchina.
These contactscontinuedto developand expandeven afterKanatchikov'sreturnto the Neva gate areain the fall of 1899.Eversince his
arrivalin the city a year earlierhe had been determinedto settle in
this, the capital's industrial region par excellence, and word had
finally come from his relatives that a position was now available there,
at the Neva machine works.23Kanatchikov's description of workingclass life in this region, virtually an industrial city within a city (though
actually stretching far beyond the city limits through the industrial
villages to Petersburg's south and southeast) is still among the best
available in the literature.24Many of the rich complexities of Russia's
young industrial life that Kanatchikov had already encountered in
relative isolation, spread out over time and space, were concentrated
here in a kaleidoscope of contradictions. Some of his former experiences and impressions seemed to rush before him here in the brief
course of a few dazzling months. He again witnessed and was again
repelled by the "hooliganish" conduct of masses of "dark,"illiterate
peasant-workers-the fighting, drinking, and cursing that he so abhorred. He blanched at the lack of culture, the religious devotion, the
persistent rural prejudices even of workers, women in particular,
whose ties with the village were relatively weak, yet noted with a
certain pleasure, as he had in Moscow, that even the most "backward"
23 Kanatchikovfollows the prevailing custom of Petersburg workers by referring to
the Neva works throughout his book as the "Semiannikovskiizavod," after the name
of one of its original owners.
24 A brief historical description of the region, valuable despite its propagandistic
character,is available in N. Paialin, "Shlissel'burgskiitrakt (Nevskaia zastava),"Bor'ba
klassov (Nov., 1934).
285
workerswere often willing to heed and join in the most outrageous

remarksabout their bosses, the police, even the priests, as long as
God and Tsarwere exempted.2 He fended off the pessimisticarguments of his old cousin Bykov who, in much the same manner as
as evidence of the
Klushinbeforehim, interpretedall this "darkness"
in
even
of
revolution
while
Russia,
hopelessness
sharingKanatchikov's
general iconoclasmand, like Klushin,earning his affection and respect. Yet with all the time he spent absorbingthis rush of impressions, many of them not unfamiliar,Kanatchikov'sattention was
increasinglydevoted to his recently formed kruzhokand the "conscious"workerswho comprisedit.
There the main activity, of course, was intellectual self-development, both politicaland broadlycultural.Under the influenceof his
new comradesKanatchikovwidened the range of his reading to include the latestillegalperiodicals,aboveall the worker-oriented,antiintelligentsiaRabochaiamysl', which produced a mixed reaction,26
as well as sociallycriticalbelles-lettres,includingmore of Nekrasov's
He also
poetry and the incisive tales of MikhailSaltykov-Shchedrin.
resumedhis readingof the classics,thoughhe now joinedhis friends
in condemningPushkin("agentleman'swriter")for his lack of commitment. With little enthusiasm(too "lordly")he attended his first
serious concerts, as well as some popular theatrical performances.
Finally, he attempted to further his intellectual development in a
more formal mannerby enrolling in the Kornilovschool, the most
well-knownof the ImperialRussianTechnicalSociety'sevening and
Sundayschoolsfor workers(alsoknown as the smolenskieklassy).27
25 It is important to bear this distinction in mind when evaluating the reaction of
Petersburgworkers to the events of "Bloody Sunday," 1905.
26 A thorough analysis of the complex history of Rabochaia mysl' may be found in
Wildman, ch. 5. Kanatchikov'sdescription of the mixed reaction this paper produced
in his kruzhok strongly supports Wildman's view that the publication both attracted
rank-and-fileworkers by summarizing their concrete grievances in print and disappointed many worker-militantsbecause of its lack of revolutionarybelligerence (before
1901). Kanatchikdv'swillingness to grant the positive features of Rabochaia mysl', despite its condemnationby Lenin in What is to be Done? and elsewhere, is a good indication of the essential honesty of Kanatchikov'smemoirs, despite their date of publication. The first example of excitement and enthusiasm evinced by workers on seeing
their grievances and struggles summarized in the press was on the occasion of the
Thornton strike in Petersburg, 1878 (to be discussed in my forthcoming book on the
factory workersof Petersburgin the 1870s and early 1880s).
27 The basic work on
Sunday schools for workers in Russia is Ia. V. Abramov, Nashi
voskresnye shkoly. Ikh proshloe i nastoiashchee (St. Petersburg, 1900). The growth of
286
The Russian Review
It was his experience at the Kornilov school that finally drove home
to Kanatchikov, in disturbing and almost traumatic fashion, that however impressive his intellectual growth had been since his arrival in
Moscow, a barely literate peasant youth, some four-and-a-half years
earlier, he still was far from being able to crack the intellectual barrier
that separated the real intelligentsia (revolutionary or otherwise) from
all but a tiny handful of even the most "developed" and "conscious"
workers. Kanatchikov's honest but only partially successful effort to
compose an introspective account of this agonizing experience is not
unsimilar in tone to his earlier attempt to describe his social failures
in Moscow, that is, there are half-articulated suggestions, never fully
expounded, that the obstacles to success were in part psychological
rather than purely mechanical. As in the previous case, there are
grounds to speculate-though no way to "prove"-that deeper mental
blocks interfered with this otherwise talented youth's ability to perform the tasks assigned him, in this case the completion of simple
written assignments. His main explanation is simple, plausible, and
perhaps even sufficient: the inadequacy of his earlier education in the
village school; his lack of experience in writing since that time. To this
he adds the roughness of his hands, accustomed to handling only a
chisel or a plane. Yet to this reader these explanations do not go far
enough. By now, after all, Kanatchikov was reading, albeit with difficulty, complex texts, including the classics; he had been writing
letters (admittedly, simple ones) to his father since 1895; his work in
designing patterns must have involved more than a passing acquaintance with a finely controlled use of pencils. Moreover, if we look at
the actual events in question it is clear that his failure at the Kornilov
school was of more than a routine character, say the incapacity to
comprehend what was expected of him in a given writing assignment
(he knew precisely what he wanted to say) or the drafting of a poorly
composed or incoherent paragraph. Instead, he sat at a table for three
or four evenings in a tortured state of mind without being able to do
anything more than scribble disjointedly on sheet after sheet of blank
the Technical Society's schools in the capital from the early 1870s to the twentieth
century may be followed in the society's journal, Zapiski ImperatorskogoRusskogo
TekhnicheskogoObshchestva. In the 1890s the Kornilov school was notorious for the
radical views of several of its teachers, including N. K. Krupskaia.For a recent summary, see IstoriiarabochikhLeningrada,ed. S. N. Valk et al., 2 vols. (Leningrad, 1972),
1: 147.
287
paper.In the end he was left with a gnawingsense of shame-his most

recurrentemotionat timesof stress-that a "conscious"workershould
prove so inadequateto this task. To his disgrace,after four years of
he had discovered,as Kanatchikovputs it
flowering"consciousness"
with revealingexaggeration,that he was still illiterate.
The suggestion,then, is that there were deeper obstacles to the
successful maturationof his intellectual growth than the concrete
barriersKanatchikovdescribes.Just what they may have been, and
how they operatedthen and later, cannot be fully ascertained.But
these questionscan be partiallyilluminated-the moreso in that his
unsuccessfulperformanceat the schooltookplace in the contextof an
assignmentdelegated by and meant to be performedfor his intelligentka-teacher-throughexaminationof the broaderproblem of his
interrelationshipswith the intelligentsia,both in Petersburgand in
his yearsof exile followinghis arrestin January1900. Before turning
to this problem,most usefully discussedin tandemwith the careerof
our secondmemoirist,MatveiFisher,a finalword mustbe said about
the relationshipbetween Kanatchikovand his father as Ivan's life
finallydrew to a close, a period that spans Kanatchikov'slast year in
Moscow,residencein Petersburg,and firstmonthsof imprisonment.
Kanatchikov'srelationswith his fatherhad begun to grow warmer
once his definitive break with the village was accomplished.The
dangerof replicatinghis father'slife now behindhim, he could begin
to accept the positive,more affectionateside of his filialfeelings with
greater equanimity,the affectionmingling with pity in the face of
Ivan'sdefeat. At their firstencounter,in Moscow, after the "fateful"
holiday, Kanatchikovwas struckby the extent to which his father
had aged in a few shortmonths.Perhapshis perceptionof his father's
feebleness was enhanced by his sense of his own growing powers.
Though as always he blamed the "despotic"Ivan for the ongoing
familyquarrelshis fatherdescribedto him,this time he foundhimself,
againsthis better judgment,feeling an involuntarysympathyfor the
"lonely,suffering,forsakenold man."But the prospect of assuaging
familytensionsand contributingto the household'sbatteredeconomy
by returningto Gusevoto "becomea peasant"was by now unthinkable.
Conversely,the old manwas now resigned,or willing to feign resignation, to his son'sdecision,made no furthereffort to dissuadehim,
288
The Russian Review
and avoided criticizinghis new way of life. His submissivenesswas

made easier by the kindness and attentiveness of his son's "freethinking"comrades,who went so far as to observeOrthodoxdietary
law in his presence.True,Kanatchikovwas laterto learnof his father's
continuedanxietyoverthe directionthat his life had taken.Ivan once
confessedto a neighbor:"I'mamazedat the kind of child I've sired:
he drinksno vodka,smokesno tobacco, doesn'tplay cards,and also
wants to have nothingto do with peasants."In short-almost a mirror
image of the father,with every feature reversed!But beneath these
soundsof despaircouldalwaysbe hearda resoundingnote of paternal
pride that his son had had the strengthto strikeout on the riskypath
of independence.Ivan'sambivalencemay well have served to facilitate the rebellionof a son whosefilialpiety was never entirelyabsent.
Only one moretime beforehis death was there an explosiveresurgence of Ivan'surge to reasserthis paternalauthority.This occurred
when, having gotten wind of his son'sembroilmentwith the authorities in Petersburg,he wrotehim two despairingletters.In the firsthe
withheld fromrevivingthe questionof his son'sreturnand confined
himself to urginghim to mend his ways in the city-pray and attend
church, obey his employers,and generallykeep out of trouble, as
Ivan claimed to have done duringhis own Petersburgdays. In the
second, however,he threatenedto withdrawhis son'spassport(still
within the powers of the peasant head of household at that time),
force him to returnhome, and beat him with a birchrod"inthe presence of honest people." This ominous threat to recreate their old
relationshipof dominanceand subordinationfrightenedyoung Kanatchikovmomentarily,but he quicklyand wisely perceivedthat it was
an idle gesture,a last eruptionof soundand fury that could be easily
appeased.A ten-rublenote enclosedin a pro formaletter of conciliation quicklyput an end to this threatfromthe past.
A few monthslater, when Kanatchikovwas in prison,a letter arrived from Gusevoannouncinghis father'sdeath. Kanatchikov'seloquent evocation of his feelings at the time reveals how strong the
bond was that still tied him to his fatherand his past, despitehis history of rebellion,his independentway of life, his painfullywon social
and politicalmetamorphosis:
The lines of the letterbegan to jump,to flow together.Sobs mountedto
289
my throatand chokedme. I triedto restrainmyselfwith an effortof will.

In vain!With sobs I threwmyselfon the cot and, buryingmy face in the
pillow, gave vent to the floodof tearsI had been holdingback.The depth
of my grief was immeasurablelFor the firsttime I felt how deeply I had
loved my father.Past injurieswere effaced and disappeared.With my
father'sdeaththe lastthreadthat had tied me to my home, to my village,
was torn away. At first this filled me with a feeling of melancholyand
loneliness.But in the depth of my soul anotherfeeling was simmering
and growing-a feeling of freedomand proud independence.While my
fatherwas alive, dimly, unconsciously,but stirringwithin me nonetheless had been somekind of vague feeling of "obligation,"
"responsibility."
Now all this was torn away and vanished forever.Of all the feelings I
experienced,the most painful was the sense that I was now alone, with
myself, with my thoughts,feelings and doubts.
A lucid summary, except perhaps for a single blindspot. The feeling of
"obligation" and "responsibility," albeit in the transmuted form already noted, would remain with Kanatchikov long beyond his father's
death.
(This article will be completed in the October 1976 issue-Ed.)

Zelknik Article

Enviado por

Dados do documento

Título original

Direitos autorais

Formatos disponíveis

Compartilhar este documento

Compartilhar ou incorporar documento

Opções de compartilhamento

Você considera este documento útil?

Este conteúdo é inapropriado?

Direitos autorais:

Formatos disponíveis

Zelknik Article

Enviado por

Direitos autorais:

Formatos disponíveis

Editors and Board of Trustees of the Russian Review

A version of this essay will accompany a reprint edition of the Kanatchikovand

The Russian Review

tical beliefs.2BecauseKanatchikovwas a first-generation

Memoirsof Semen Kanatchikovand Matvei Fisher

sian peasant in his social backgroundand childhoodexperience.He

The Russian Review

telligentsiaattitudestowardsworkers)is toucheduponin almostevery

that could only be fully realized through interaction,not always

Memoirsof Semen Kanatchikovand Matvei Fisher

The Russian Review

contributedsignificantlyto the formationof his character.Indeed,

Memoirsof Semen Kanatchikovand Matvei Fisher

lage life. At differenttimeshe dabbledin commerceand rentedland.

The Russian Review

the cause of his mother'sprematuredeath (when Senkawas 14) was

Memoirsof Semen Kanatchikovand Matvei Fisher

city of Moscow.His ultimatedecisionnot to returnto his village, as

The Russian Review

new environment gradually and recover from his fright at having

Memoirsof Semen Kanatchikovand Matvei Fisher

The second was drinkor, more precisely, intoxication,sometimes

The Russian Review

with wooden spoonsfrom a commonbowl, followed by a ritualized

Memoirsof Semen Kanatchikovand Matvei Fisher

at a time when Senkawas still experiencingintense surgesof longing

The Russian Review

confidencein my own powerswas growingand becomingstronger."

Memoirsof Semen Kanatchikovand Matvei Fisher

have had certaintendenciesin that direction,they were also pulled

The Russian Review

inculcatedby his father. As long as

Memoirsof Semen Kanatchikovand Matvei Fisher

priests,whose functionit was to obscurethe truthfrom the common

The Russian Review

elevated the workerto centerstage, these and othermotley readings,

Memoirsof Semen Kanatchikovand Matvei Fisher

ship with Vankawas not entirelyinconsistentwith Senka'snew mood

The Russian Review

be determined.For Ivan, the questionof Senka'sfuturelife on earth

Memoirsof Semen Kanatchikovand Matvei Fisher

The Russian Review

oblivion.Caughtup in the sweepof events,he apparentlycamewithin

Memoirsof Semen Kanatchikovand Matvei Fisher

factory,where his anxiety was swiftly dispelled when, having been

The Russian Review

strationthat, even before his decisionto shun the path of careerism

Memoirsof Semen Kanatchikovand Matvei Fisher

juredpridein the spiritof a youth in the processof strugglingtoward

The Russian Review

worthyis Senka'sperceptionof the concessionas a sign of weakness,

Memoirsof Semen Kanatchikovand Matvei Fisher

The Russian Review

awokethe next morninghe cleanedthe "tracesof my crime,""myfirst

Memoirsof Semen Kanatchikovand Matvei Fisher

noted the role of such experiencesin Senka'saversionto the peasant

The Russian Review

womenas an "attackon theirpersonalfreedom,"potentiallyentailing

with girls,andfinallyemergesin his generalizedobjections,embedded

Memoirsof Semen Kanatchikovand Matvei Fisher

yielded to these temptationshimself. But the point here is broader

The Russian Review

Memoirsof Semen Kanatchikovand Matvei Fisher