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4 Evdokiia Rostopchina Evdokiia Rostopchina (1811–58), one of the few recognized women poets of her generation, has been the subject of numerous biographical accounts by memoirists and literary critics. One finds, however, a surprising uniformity among these biographies.1 The same episodes repeatedly reappear in the same way, almost in the same words, like scenes from a saint’s life. This “official biography” has in turn shaped ideas about Rostopchina’s work, influencing her literary reputation. It is worth examining the standard version of Rostopchina’s life—the choice and interpretation of events, as well as the assumptions about gender inherent in them. Could these episodes be interpreted in other ways? Are there excluded or underemphasized circumstances that might give us a different understanding of her life and work? I suggest that in addressing these questions we may gain a richer, more complex, and truer appreciation of Rostopchina as a poet. One often-repeated scene from Rostopchina’s life concerns her initiation into literature. Petr Viazemsky, the well-known poet and critic, while visiting the family of the eighteen-year-old Rostopchina (née Sushkova) came upon her poem “Talisman.” He secretly copied it, then without Rostopchina’s knowledge or permission published it in Anton Del’vig’s al’manakh, Severnye tsvety (Northern flowers) for 1831.2 This story differs from accounts of how contemporary men poets entered literature, in its suggestions of a virgin birth.3 As a powerful male spiritual force impregnates Mary without her knowledge or permission, so a powerful male literary force sweeps the equally innocent Rostopchina into literature . As Mary therefore cannot be accused of the sin of lust, so Rostopchina cannot be accused of the sin, for a woman, of literary ambition. This connection between lust and literary ambition—for women— 88 emerges even more clearly from another frequently recounted episode: the scandal that erupted when “Talisman” appeared, and Rostopchina’s relatives discovered that she, an unmarried woman, was the author of a published poem.4 Rostopchina’s brother Sergei writes, “Everyone found that for a well-born young unmarried woman (blagorodnaia baryshnia) to occupy herself with composition was indecent and to print her works was absolutely shameful!” (S. Sushkov, “Biograficheskii ocherk,” 1: vi). Although Rostopchina had been “seduced” into literature without her knowledge, her family treated her as a fallen woman— as if the published poem, the evidence of her fall, signified an illegitimate child. The poet’s grandmother demanded that she swear on an icon that she would never again write poetry. Instead, Rostopchina agreed not to publish any more poetry until after she was married, when presumably poetry writing, like sex, was considered permissible for women. It is hard to imagine such a scene greeting a man poet on his literary debut. Although we invariably find this episode recounted with amusement, as an indication of the quaintness of old-fashioned Russian high society, no one has speculated on the effect it may have had on Rostopchina ’s feelings about herself as a woman poet. A third, often-recounted story suggests that, just as Viazemsky can be credited for Rostopchina’s literary debut, so another powerful male literary figure, Nikolai Gogol, can be credited for her most politically courageous act as a writer. This was the publication of “Nasil’nyi brak” (The forced marriage, 1845), in which Rostopchina used the allegory of a forced marriage to protest Russia’s forced annexation and oppression of Poland.5 It was Gogol, we are told, who encouraged Rostopchina to submit the poem to Faddei Bulgarin and Nikolai Grech’s conservative literary daily, Severnaia pchela (The northern bee), assuring her that no one would understand the allegory. Rostopchina did so, and the poem passed the censorship, appearing in the December 17, 1846, issue of the paper.6 Within a few weeks, however, people became aware of the poem’s allegorical meaning. According to Rostopchina’s daughter, Lidiia, the police destroyed all the copies of the offending issue they could find, using subscription lists to retrieve those held by subscribers. Nicholas I threatened to close down the newspaper, and one of its two editors, Nikolai Ivanovich Grech (1787–1867), was asked by the Third Section (Nicholas I’s secret police) to explain in writing how he could have accepted such a poem for publication. The other editor, Faddei Venediktovich Bulgarin (1789–1859), without being asked, also wrote an explanation, no doubt feeling vulnerable because he was Polish. Evdokiia Rostopchina 89 [18.225.31.159] Project MUSE...

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