Background

Mikhail Sholokov is another in the long line of Eastern European writers who I had never heard about before starting this project because, well, that’s how Western education rolls. Sholokov was born in a rural portion of Russia known as “the Don” after the local river. That was about all he seemed to need in life. He fought in the army, made powerful friends, but his life and his work eternally revolved around his humble farmland beginnings and everyone around him.

However, those powerful friends and patrons push him into a slightly different realm that he might have liked. One of Sholokov’s friends was Joseph Stalin (who made time for some light reading while organizing a despotic regime that murdered approximately 9 Million critics and opponents). Sholokov used his influence with old Joe to earn concessions for his community, justice for persecuted neighbors, and punishment for the corrupt (and in one case–defending the local XI from having their best player abducted by CSKA Moscow). However, he didn’t exactly kick up a fuss about the wider injustices (if it wasn’t in the Don, for Sholokov, it wasn’t on). It’s hard to tell whether his closeness with Stalin encouraged soviet government, newspapers and schools to lift him up to the position of a laureate, or if those who opposed Stalin kept him off of shelves and confined to a controversial corner where he was accused of plagiarism.

Either way, Sholokov won the 1965 Nobel Prize for giving “expression to a historic phase in the life of the Russian people” through his work Quiet Flows the Don.

Works

From “Family Man” a short story of a father who fought with the Tsar’s forces against his own sons who had left home to join the Soviets. In this scene, the father Mikishara narrates what happens when he finds his son as a prisoner of war among his own battalion.

“The Cossacks roar with laughter.

” ‘Make them soak in their own blood Mikishara! It is obvious you’re taking pity on him, on your own Danilka. Strike him again or we’ll make your blood flow!’

“The captain came out on the porch; he was swearing but his eyes were laughing. When they began to slash them with their bayonets, my heart couldn’t bear it. I started running down the street. I looked back and saw them rolling my Danilushka on the ground. The sergeant stuck his bayonet in his throat but only Khrr came out”

Message

In both his work and his life, Sholokov’s devotion and dedication to Cossaks on the Don (both good and bad) brings to mind so many specifics that outsiders are left only to observe and ponder the culture. If I were to extrapolate that out into a message I might say “Live locally. It’s the immediate that matters.”

Position: #4 Center Back

There’s a lot in the plot of Quiet Flows the Don that reminds me of Tolstoy’s epics, albeit without the bourgeoise or occasional redeeming features of the protagonist. To be fair, I watched the 1957 adaptation rather than reading the book, but in small selections and a conversation with a former Russian student it sure seems to be an accurate adaptation of both tone and characters. With that Tolstoy-lite label and the uncertainty over his authorship or willingness to approve of Stalin’s worst traits, I’m left shrugging. Sholokov would clearly care about defending his territory, but he also seems like a player who has the unswerving allegiance of the coach without a whole lot of reason why.

So there you have it, an ultra HOT TAKE (about an author who has been dead for forty years). Feel free to challenge me in the comments below. (Also, I know that my numbers/colors aren’t matching for Sholokov…but until such time as someone tells me it matters, I’m going to show myself some grace and let it be)

Next Time, 1985 Honoree Claude Simon

Hooray a representative of Africa! And he’s…no…wait…white again.