Saturday, Nov. 26- 1927- Leningrad-Hotel Europe
On Saturday morning at 10 a.m. we arrived in Leningrad. The head of the Leningrad VOKS and another representative met us at the station. There was an automobile waiting and I was carried off in grand style to the Hotel Europe. Enroute I was struck by the beauty of the city, the broad streets and fine buildings, the air of smartness and alertness which Moscow lacks. The hotel proved to be much more imposing and comfortable than the notorious Bolshaya Moskovskaya in Moscow. Lackeys opened the car doors. We entered the handsome lobby through revolving doors. There was an air of grandeur and obsequiousness and order soothing to a soul harrassed by the shabby lobbies, wretched service and leaky plumbing, despite the ancient magnificence of the rooms, in the ‘Grand Hotel’. Each of us (three) was given a spacious room with bath and then we went up to the restaurant on the roof for breakfast. This was a really charming place with potted plants and bright colored walls and shaded lamps. A brisk reporter promptly appeared and interviewed me as I ate my breakfast of cold meats, rolls and cocoa.
After breakfast, I was taken for a ride about the city in an open car. I do not think I have ever seen a more beautiful city. The gray fog which habitually hangs over Leningrad partially enveloped the wonderful old buildings and the domes of magnificent churches. The marble columns of buildings and monuments were coated with frost which gave the stone a wonderfully soft tone. We passed the Winter Palace which has been restored this year to its original colors of white and dark green. We stopped at the great Cathedral of St. Isaac.1 Inside within the lofty dome was a steel scaffolding erected before the revolution for the purpose of constructing a number of pictures in mosaic work. Only eight of the figures were finished when the revolution stopped the work. Now money cannot be spared to complete it so the scaffolding which spoils the interior of the cathedral is to be torn down. A priest took us up to the altar where four great mosaic-work pictures were placed on either side of the golden doors leading to the inner shrine which weighed 300 poods of gold.2 We stepped into the inner shrine, but my secretary had to stand at the door, because no woman is permitted to enter here. There were slabs of malachite, a green stone, and other valuable stones in the walls. There was an object under a glass case on the altar which made me ask ‘Is that a bird’s nest?’ It proved to be a crown of thorns brought from Jerusalem. While very rich and magnificent, the general interior of the church is not inspiringly beautiful.
Outside as I drive we passed many interesting neighborhoods and finally a rubber factory employing 7,000 workers. There were bridges over canals, churches, broad mains. Finally we swung into a court and came to the home of VOKS,—rooms in a very beautiful mansion near the Neva river. After visiting a while here with the representatives, we crossed the river to the Fortress of Peter and Paul.3 First we went into the old church which has a very high slender golden spire and were shown the tombs of the czars and their wives of the last three centuries. They are of marble with golden crosses. Crossing the courtyard through the snow we entered the ruined fortress which ran along the water’s edge. Inside ranged cell after cell, in chill monotony, each a large stone room with a high barred window, an iron cot, an iron table and a washbowl in the corner. In each heavy iron door was a narrow slit with glass in it through which the guards could see into the cell, and a small door on hinges through which the food was passed. Here the prisoner was completely isolated, no sound came to him through the thick stone walls, but the prisoners learned to communicate with one another by tapping on the walls. One cell was used for solitary confinement because the adjoining rooms were warehouses and the prisoner could not even communicate by tappings. Another cell was used to confine prisoners for punishment. A solid wooden door could be dropped over the window so that the room was in complete darkness. Here was the cell of Vera Figner, of the Decembrists and other famous revolutionists.4
On the way home we passed what seemed to me the most beautiful church I have yet seen. It was a Tartar Mosque with a large cone shaped dome curiously made of china blue and white material like porcelain and at each corner two miniature cone shaped domes of similar workmanship.
In the evening our assidious hosts bundled us off to the opera ‘Evgeni Oneega’, which was so boring in spite of good music by Chikovsky, that we left at the end of the first act.5 The plots of the old Russian operas are very insipid. Cabaret was in full swing in the roof restaurant and here we met our hosts. An imitation jazz band was making a great racket and the guests were bravely trying to dance the fox trot and Charleston. Here was “NEP” and the new bourgeoisie in full bloom.6 The NEP men are the private concessionaires—(their wives, sweet hearts and children whom the communists here hate & watch because they feel that they tend to undermine the communist regime. They are spied on and taxed for their gayeties.
Sunday, Nov. 27-1927- Leningrad - Hote Europe
Gray and damp.
In the morning we drove about 15 versts out of Leningrad to Tsarskoye Selo (Czar’s Village) now known as the Children’s Village.7 Here is the summer palace of the Czars and the town itself is made up of handsome homes where officials of the Imperial Government lived, among them 15 Jewish families which were granted the permanent privilege of living here by one of the Czar’s because of military services performed by their ancestors. There is an extensive park, pavilions, churches, army barracks and finally the palace itself, which is not more imposing than many of the other buildings in the town. I did not like it at all. The whole thing—village and Palace, had the air of a cheap resort. The palace is now a museum and is kept as the last czar left it suddenly on Monday, July 30, 1917. On his desk is a large loose leaf calendar pad whose last leaf is this date.
Our tour of the hundreds of rooms occupied the better part of two hours and my conclusion at the end was that it was the worst palace I have ever seen, a tremendous effort to expend as much wealth as possible in order to create an atmosphere of grandeur, yet resulting in bad taste and ugliness depressing to contemplate. I could understand quite clearly why it was necessary to get rid of these people. The rooms of Nicholas were particularly unharmonious, cluttered up with furniture, bric a brac, and rugs, very broad Turkish divans which were out of keeping with the rest of the furniture, walls simply covered with paintings and photographs, as if he had made an effort to display all the presents he had received. His bathroom proved to lack, as all the other bathrooms in the house lacked, a real bathtub. There was a great tiled swimming pool but if the poor man wanted a bath he was compelled to take a sponge with the aid of a porcelain bowl and pitcher on a stand. The only comfortable beds in the palace I found in the sleeping room of Catherine, which was a broad soft looking bed and in the little bedroom of the sailor assigned as playmate to the last young heir to the throne, Nicholas III.
On the second floor were the children’s rooms. Besides in one of the grand reception rooms downstairs, one of the Czars (Alexander II a doting father) had ordered to be constructed a grand slide for his children. Here also were large toy automobiles and other playthings which gave the room a queer look. Yet he was Tzar and could order it. On this same second floor were class rooms for children of different ages. Perhaps those of the relatives of the Czar as well as his own, one or two of them really artistically decorated and furnished. Also the living rooms of the daughters of the last czar, their wardrobes and the extensive rooms of the last heir, who although a lovely child, was a cripple were interesting. There were several rooms full of his playthings, toy animals, mechanical toys, automobiles, ships, engines, wardrobe after wardrobe of the poor child’s uniforms, his bedroom with a very uncomfortable looking little bed, his bath room, with only a bowl and pitcher in it, and a toilet, and on the tables all his braces and straps which he had to wear.
The boudoir of the last Czarina was a bewildering maze of furniture and objects. It looked more like the boudoir of an actor or stage manager than that of a Czarina. The various dressing tables and bureaus were crowded with small ornaments, vases, and photographs and the walls were covered with small photographs and paintings. The guide assured us that the room was as she had lived in it. Her wardrobe occupied a large room and was full of hideous long gowns of satin, velvet and lace and large hats, which would not be likely to excite the envy of a modern shop girl. The czar’s wardrobe of uniforms was even more extensive. There must have been hundreds of different uniforms for all his different orders.—K.P.— Shriners Elks, etc.8
There were also rooms full of royal presents, a wonderful display of large plates presented to Nicholas by the peasants on one of his tours, and presents from foreign governments.
It was a relief when it was over and we went down to the entrance hall again where a bright open fire was burning. A sled drawn by two gray horses and driven by a soldier stood at the entrance and we were given a fast ride about the grounds. The flying hoofs kicked snow into our faces and as we dashed through the grounds, now a public park, the indignant pedestrians, not accustom to being disturbed by vehicles, stepped off the paths into the deep snow and hurled curses at us; one old woman even suggested that we be hung to a tree—of which gave me a Tzar-like feel. I was stirring the proletariat to ire.
Then we drove home in the car. On the outskirts of the city are the houses of peasants who work the land, log houses which look fairly good, many of them new and with trimmings on windows and doors of carved wood painted in bright colors. But the country about is flat and desolate looking, vast stretches of snowy plains.
In the evening we went to the State Circus. This is a permanent building, with seats constructed in a circle about the pit and very lofty ceiling about half the size of the old Madison Square in N. Y. The program changes weekly, the management making contracts with traveling troupes, the majority of which are foreign. The State Circus comes under the general Department of Education, and under the sub-department of theaters.
The actors, if Russian—are limited to about 10 roubles a day: If foreign they have to be paid foreign rates and are so paid. I was interested by one thought. If a Russian Circus actor had a good idea for an act—and only recieved 10 roubles a day, wherever would he get the money to stage it? The particular act which prompted this thought was called an “American Attraction,” although it was really Italian. And the reason for calling it an “American Attraction” was that Americans despite their Russian war record are so popular in Russia whereas the Italians are not. But anyhow the “American Attraction” consisted of an immense cannon—possibly paper maché from which a young man dressed as an aviator was shot high in the air and landed in a net—perhaps 75 feet away. I was fascinated. But, I said, supposing now a Russian circus actor had such an idea. How would he get the money to finance it. Finally I got it cleared up. He would go to the local Soviet of his city or state. If the idea were approved—that is if it were good for the Russian people, the local Soviet would either finance it itself—or get the state to do it. So you see how things are done in Russia today.
But to return: Our seats, were the best, and located in a box near the pit, cost 3.50 (roubles).
The program was excellent, not one poor act. There were about ten numbers and three intermissions during which the spectators went into the buffet and drank tea and beer and ate sandwiches and apples. The crowd was more proletarian and rough than the usual theater crowd in Russia. Nonetheless:
There were marvelous acrobats, jugglers, performing horses and riders, two very funny clowns, one a dwarf, and as the final climax, the so-called ‘American attraction’. The great cannon was moved on a large auto truck and it took some time to prepare for the act, placing the cannon at just the right angle, etc. During this time some of the spectators sat holding their ears. But the report was not loud. I think springs did the work.
One thing I noticed—the same silly clownings that tickle an American audience tickled these Russians. The laughter was loud: the applause noisy.
While so different from one’s childhood memories of the traveling circus in tents, there was a similar atmosphere, and the odors arising from the dust and smell of horses in the pit were reminiscent of American circus days.
We then returned to the hotel and I slept soundly in the huge queer room which had been assigned me.
Monday, Nov. 28-1927– Leningrad – Hotel Europe
Another gray and slushy day. And the usual Russian breakfast—cold meats & hot chocolate. I am entirely surrounded by VOX-men—the Leningrad branch of the Soviet Society for Cultural relations. I do not know their names—but they provide cars, arrange interviews & tours. Come & get you at the proper hour, usher you in and out of cars & so on and so forth. It would be easy for a fool to get a false impression of his importance. And so often—nearly all the time—and in the midst of it all, I wish I were out of Russia and at home—in 57th Street—in the little house at Mt. Kisco.
At 10 a.m. interview with Ivan Ivanovich Kandrataev, Vice President of the Leningrad District Soviet. He Is a plain looking young man who was a metal worker before the Revolution. And then questions & answers:
Are you elected from this district?
I am elected by the local Soviet and by the Congress of the Soviets as Vice President of the region.
What are your activities?
I am, the administrat of the city and of the gubernia, like the governor of a state. I direct the work of the local Soviets, but as Leningrad has no city Soviet, this is the regional Soviet.
Do you have control of factories, stores, etc.?
Yes, there are two classes of industries: those of state importance and those of local importance (here 35% are of general or state importance. The industries in Leningrad Gubernia are valued at 300 million roubles. There is a separate production and supply department. The general state industries here are ship building (commercial), construction of machines, turbines, textile manufacture, etc. Our local industries are to sustain local needs; shoe factories, paper, building materials, but more and more the government is giving the Leningrad district more heavy industries to operate. The Leningrad Soviet has much initiative in the management of its industries. We receive many orders from the government to supply materials, machinery, etc. Unfortunately, we are unable to fill all these orders because of lack of materials and money and machinery. We use the bulk of our capital for extension of industry. Our 15 millions profit last year was all put back into industry, as our demands are growing so fast.
Did using this 15 million in this way cause you to be glad?
Of course, we neglected many fields, but if we had 150 million profit we would put it all back into industry, because we must satisfy the demands of the country. If we had more money we would invest in new commercial enterprises, i.e. new factory for artificial silk. We have been built a new wood turning factory as heretofore we have had to buy these things abroad. In the chemical industry, we must import from Germany, and if we had the money we would like to build a large chemical plant. But it will come.
Does this industrial development program take from the building of workers houses, sanitariums, and other social needs?
Yes, it affects our social welfare work, but still we set aside a certain percent for this work, too, because the city is growing in industrial population and so the demands of the workers are growing.
You yourself are a worker. What difference do you notice in the energy of the worker today as compared with under the czar?
In the whole mass you feel a great enthusiasm. Worker feels that he is the boss, that his wish is the wish of the government. The whole administration is changed. The worker, even if he is not politically intelligent feels this. Under the czar, the welfare of the worker was not the business of the state; under the czar the worker had no interest in production.
What about women in industry now as compared with former times?
There are many more women workers now.
Does not this cause unemployment?
Yes, of course, but the enlargement of industry is decreasing unemployment. There are 136,000 unemployed in Leningrad. Of these, 96,000 are women of which number 60% are seeking employment for the first time.
How soon do you think you can liquidate unemployment?
It is difficult to answer, on account of the abnormal conditions, because not only national but international conditions affect the question. Also the increasing demand of women to work in industry. But nevertheless we are short of skilled workers and must train workers to fill these needs.
What do you do to train this 136,000 unemployed?
There are special labor collectives (labor schools) in which 11,000 workers are studying various trades in a 7 to 8 months course. These students are then put in factories as apprentices.
Are only young workers? No, both young and old. For the youth are special industrial schools in the factories.
Are the unemployed hungry?
Here are the figures from the report of the Leningrad Soviet. They receive a subsidy from the government (35 roubles for a man with a family) and from the trade unions 28 roubles and all the usual trade union benefits; also only a nominal fee of five kopeks for living quarters. That we also organise communal work on streets, and railroads, heavy work for men and lighter for women, for which they receive 1:60 to 2.00 roubles a day–but many prefer the subsidy to work! (This is only an example to show they are not starving). About 60% of these unemployed are members of families, some of whom work. Still there is a significant part really hungry, and another part deliberately idle because there are certain people whom you can’t make work. And what can you do with them. They have the vote!
Why not take the vote from a man who does not want to work?
Our business is to see that the unemployed are not starving. Many unemployed are wives of workers and they refuse communal work and want to go into industry, or they do not want to accept dirty work.
What is the Soviet Government going to do with the loafer?
If he consistently refuses to work, we can take up the matter of putting him out of the union. But we are more patient with qualified workers who do not want to accept unskilled labor.
What becomes of the loafer eventually—beggar or bandit?
There is very seldom such an occurrence. Among the criminal element we are doing educational work and there are special institutions in which they are taught to work.
What about the housing of labor? In Moscow I saw that the living conditions of the workers are very bad. In new quarters even they are living five and seven in one room without separate bath. Doesn’t the government want to raise the standards of the workers? Isn’t it better for workers families to have separate quarters?
When the workers made a revolution, they didn’t do it for bathtubs but for political power. We are poor, there are many tasks before us. We can satisfy the cultural demands of the workers only through the broad masses themselves. But we feel it is necessary to do all this. The conditions in Leningrad are better than in Moscow. For instance, before the revolution, even the most cultured people not only did not have private baths, but they had only a toilet in the yard. We would gladly build three room apartments with bath, but we must spend 12,000 roubles for such quarters, and with this same money we can supply housing for many more people. Furthermore, the Russian is accustomed to the public bath (banya-steam bath) and prefers it to the private bath.
The demand for education on the part of the worker is tremendous since the revolution. Before the revolution it was only the church for the woman and vodka for the man. If we had to deal with a people already educated the problems would not be so great.
What about roads?
Our program is modest, we use the U.S. as an example, there is a department for the improvement of auto connections, but we need machinery to construct roads and we havent it yet.
Will the auto be collectively or privately owned?
Privately owned, just as apartments and houses may be privately owned—for the life of the worker. He can sell—or will his house. On his death such a thing is usually sold & the proceeds divided equally among his wife & children. A car could be sold. But of course people with a home or a car pay higher taxes—much higher than do others.
Kandrataev then called the head of the Commission for Construction of Workers Dwellings of the Presidium of the Leningrad Soviets and asked him to show me what is being done by this department. He was a fair, rosy faced young man who seemed very eager to show the new workers houses. The Soviets furnished a car to take us about.
We went first to a large apartment house constructed by a cooperative building group. On the outside, it was a very attractive structure, the plaster tinted in soft colors of gray, lavendar and red. The building had 415 rooms and cost one million roubles. It was finished only a short time ago and the courts were not yet in order. The apartments were 1, 2 and 3 rooms without private bath. There was but one bathroom to each section, that is, one bath to 40—persons, and each entitled to only 2 hours per week! It is proposed to keep these bathrooms only for the children and build steam baths (banya) in the courtyards, because, so they say, Russians prefer them!
I can never understand that—the herd instinct in these people—but it is true. They appear to have to work and live in groups. Their village, factory and apartment life is communal
One thing that illustrates this was to be seen right here in these new apartments for workers.
Each corridor or section also had a community kitchen. Here the large cook stove was full of pots and pans, soup boiling, meat cooking, and about the stove stood half a dozen women neighbors stirring and watching their various kettles. The hours from 5 to 8 in the evening were reserved for the working women to do their cooking.
The first apartment we looked into was two rooms, the walls of course were fresh and attractively colored, but the furnishings were of the most heterogenous and cheapest. Five people, a man and wife, grandmother and 2 children lived here. In the second two room apartment lived 4 people, husband, wife and 2 children, in the third, 1 room, of a three room apartment, lived 5 people, husband, wife, grandmother and 2 children. The husband and wife both worked and earned between them 115 roubles a month, paid 13.98 per month rent and found it difficult to live. Across the hall 6 people lived in two rooms, the husband and wife earned together 100 roubles, paid 27 roubles a month rent and according to the grandmother who was at home, they were very well satisfied. It was always a mystery in a Russian home for me to understand where they all sleep. But in one of the small rooms was a crib, two children’s beds and a couch and in the other room, the woman pointed with pride to a good new ‘double bed’. ‘Of course, we are satisfied,’ she said, ‘before we slept on the floor in a little damp room. Now we have a nice warm, light clean place, two rooms and look at our beautiful new bed!’ How a husband and wife can sleep on these narrow beds is a wonder to me. I should think they would have to strap themselves together.
On each floor of the building was a large alcove for social life, a ‘Lenin corner’. If I have not explained before now the nature of the “Lenin Corner” I should. It is the seat or centre in every apartment house, club, factory, shop, school, theatre—anywhere where a group of employes or residents or citizens can be gotten together where the young and the old are instructed not only in the doctrines of Marx and the virtures of the communal life as practised here in Russia, but the dangers of a world war against Russia, the need of the mass sticking together, learning to use rifles, bombs and also to practise first aid & and self help in times of disaster. And everywhere in these places pictures of Lenin and Stalin (no longer any of Trotzky. He is out). And cartoons or lithographs—(most lurid in color of enormous, hog like plutocrats with their fat heels on the necks of the chained workers lying at their feet. And other cartoons of red workers in solid array—their guns leveled, their bayonets sharply pointed, repelling an oncoming horde of plutocratic soldiers. And mottoes—“All for one; One for all” “Down with Plutocracy”. “Remember the White Guards; the Red October”. And maxims or quotations from Marx and Lenin. And always pictures of Marx and Lenin. And a statue of Lenin. I figure the Lenin Statue Population of Russia to be at least 80,000,000. And often actual revolvers, guns, bombs, bullets and the like, with cards or small strips illustrating the proper use of the same. And gas masks—with details of their proper use. And always some comrade to come nightly and lecture or explain—firing the masses with pictures of the danger in which they stand. Here also educational programs are undertaken—illiteracy liquidated for one thing. There may also be lectures on dietetics, sanitation, the care of children or the house—even lessons in some trade or art. Maybe a radio with lecturer, speeches or patriotic songs coming over that. Never, never, anywhere have I seen the equal of it. There is something strange, almost mystic in the fever of these people to consolidate their gains—make themselves sure that what they have attained shall not be taken away from them. And always in every house, shop, store, school, factory, club, theatre a communist or two—members of the party in good standing whose business it is to see that sentiment in each group is rallied to the Soviet idea. They are what are known as Party workers & in order to get up in politics and so attain power & position (the only avenue to power and position in Russia) one must be a communist in good standing in the Party—ready to do any duty assigned one—with a long record of services rendered in one field or another. It is like party workers in any close organization anywhere. One must work hard, do anything in order to get up. And so, in these” Lenin corners” every where, these party workers shine. I wondered all the time I was in Russia what this propaganda for communism, was, faith in the future of the party & the worker in Russia forbodes for the future of the whole world. I wonder.
In this building the dormitories of the factory students, those young workers—many of them orphans because of the great war—who are being taught by the Soviet Government to be skilled workers. They have also almost a religious regimen to endure—early or at least regular hours, respectable habits, diligence in the prosecution of their political as well as their practical studies. And all watched by the local Soviet which gives them their chance in order to see that they are going in the proper mental & moral direction. Could the Catholic church do more—I ask you.
We found one of the boys at home in the long, clean room with several comfortable iron cots in a row. He was a sturdy, dark faced boy of 16 with bright brown eyes and a turned up nose. He said he came from White Russia, that his brother works in a factory in Leningrad and that much his family was too poor to take care of him, his brother later sent for him to come to the factory school. He was studying to be a machinist, 4 hours work and 4 hours study a day, received 22 roubles a month and paid 2 roubles a month for his room. Every three months his wages were increased and he hoped in a few years to be earning good wages, perhaps 200 roubles a month. He was writing a letter to his family, and after some shyness and hesitation, consented to let us read it. He wrote a beautiful hand, and began his letter ‘My Dear Ones’. He wrote how satisfied he was in the school, how nice his living conditions were compared with what he had known at home: ‘I live with two other boys in a large, clean room heated with central heating, I have a comfortable bed, and find it very nice after sleeping on the floor at home’. Can you wonder that the young Russian worker is for Soviet Russia—or that he is likely to do as he is told—if necessary fight & die for his native land.
We next visited some attractive looking new buildings which I had noticed the first day, very large cement houses joined together with arches with large courts inside, and colored in attractive shades. Nearby were the old working class houses, of old Russia, old frame one-story structures falling to pieces. But inside the new buildings I encountered the familiar Russian smell, a pungent odor combined no doubt of cabbage, sheepskin and tobacco. In a 3 room flat 2 families were living, they had a separate or rather communal kitchen in the flat and a toilet, but no bath. A neighbour was visiting and she invited us to come over and see her room. I commented on the hospitality of the people everywhere. We followed her to her room in another adjoining building; it was also part of a three room apartment. She lived in this one room with her husband and daughter who was in high school. Once there though She complained bitterly that her daughter did not have a separate room and called attention to the damp wall. (These houses were built, as is a large part of Leningrad, on marshy land, and dampness must be a great problem). We tried to escape from her complaining. ‘Thank you,’ she said ‘for coming and examining the conditions, and I hope you will be able to do something about it’. She thought we were an inspection commission.
The head of the department said that the building program for next year would provide housing for 15,000 people.
In the evening I went to the Sovkino and was given a private showing of three pictures.9 These related—one to rural or village life in Russia—a really beautiful picture—the best cinema photography I have ever seen. I want to have it shown in America. The other two related to the Red-White wars between 1918 and 1922—When Denikin, Yudenich and other paid mercenaries of English, Japan, France & the United States invaded war worn Russia. (A fine reward for all their earlier fighting for the Allies).10 They were interesting pictures—very—one in particular of a red sailer who afterwards became leader of a regiment was now cut off from the Main Army & tried to make his way to the Black Sea in order to aid the Red Army there. It showed how he was made a fool of by an attractive woman bandit & her band—and what he did to her afterwards— killed her.
A second war picture related to the secret service men or spies—of the two opposing armies red & white—and how a red spy finally got the best of a white one, although in the beginning it looked as though he was sure to lose his life.
Tuesday, Nov. 29- 1927- Leningrad - Hotel Europe
In the morning I went to visit the rubber factory, ‘The Red Triangle’, the largest in Russia. We were shown into the office of the Red Director (one who has risen from the workers and been trained by the new government) Alexander Adamovitch Isnen, a short, heavy set man with curling moustaches, heavy arched brows, keen eyes, his broad face shrewd and good natured. He walked with a limp and was shabbily dressed in a baggy old gray suit and dark shirt. He had worked 21 years in this factory as a worker and only since the revolution rose to be Chief Director.
The factory employs 16,000 workers. Here the whole process of rubber production is carried out—tires, gloves, machine goods,—God knows what, but the largest production is rubber overshoes. Rubber tires are manufactured in small quantities, only enough to supply the needs of the country. From the political point of view the line of work of all factories is the same.
Is this only a branch of the rubber industry of Russia?
Yes, it is one of 4 such plants of the All-Russian Rubber Trust, 1 in Moscow, another in Odessa. Our system of organisation is different from a United States plant. We do not sell our products, we only produce and have no connection whatever with the sale. The government arranges the selling.
Do you employ foreign specialists?
Of our 108 engineers all are Russian, but we have had specialists from America and we make regular trips to America for investigation and study.
Would it not be better to divide such a big plant instead into smaller ones on account of transport?
If the raw materials were Russian products, it would be better if the plant were more centrally located, but 90% of the materials are imported, mostly by water.
Would not Odessa be a better place, it is an open port all the year?
But Odessa is also far from the center and our port is open enough during the year. In technique we are up to date in general world methods. Last year we would have liked to buy a half million roubles worth of material in America, but we had no money to spare.
Is what Rykov says true about production being two and one half times dearer in Russia than elsewhere?
No, not quite so much. It is some dearer here.
And Why.
Because we have many expenses unknown abroad. For every rouble of production, we spend 32% for the social welfare of our workers, insurance, vacations, pregnancy of women, cultural work.
What is your salary?
225 roubles and a 4-room apartment. There are certain workers who receive more than I do.
How much does the best technician receive?
600 roubles a month and quarters.
And the lowest paid worker?
60 roubles. We have the piece work system here, and there are only about 18 workers getting as low as 2 roubles a day. We have an 8-hour day and if the work is dangerous or injurious 6 hours.
You were a worker under the czar. Is the worker now better qualified and more intelligent than before?
The qualifications of workers in 10 years could not change much, but we have technical schools for the training of a new army of qualified workers who will take the places of the old ranks. Before the revolution, 60% of the workers in this plant were illiterate, now only 1%. 51% of the workers are men and 49% women.
How do women compare in productive power with men?
We have here a kind of production which demands the work of women, which requires not so much physical strength as delicate craftsmanship. In that respect of course they are better than men—they can do little, delicate things which men cannot do as well.
Do you consider women as valuable as men?
Certainly. There is no difference in pay as in capitalist countries, where women are used for work because their wages are lower.
What about the social life in America (question of Director).
The basis of the American government is the welfare of the masses and American workers are the best off in the world.
Question by the director:
“When you consider what Russia accomplished in spite of the fact that the capitalist system had never developed here, that we had an imperialist war, revolution, civil war and famine, under an administration of simple workers, what do you think she could have accomplished under the Soviet power if she had had the industrial development of America before the revolution? I answered that I knew that Russia had accomplished wonders & could & would do more. However since he proceeded to attack America I answered at length about the unselfish work of scientists in America and the achievements of American financiers in building up industry, 50% income tax, gifts of rich men to country, improvement of social conditions to a high point . . . “And perhaps the next step” I added” will be the Soviet system, and I believe if this system were put to the masses in America, they would accept it.”
Are not the above steps being taken merely to intrench capitalism and deceive the masses?
No.
The Director then personally conducted us through the factory. In all it is 40 versts in length.11 I did not of course go through the whole plant, but we walked for almost two hours and saw the process of preparing the raw rubber and all the different products being manufactured: tubing, water bags, tires, combs, parts of telephones, waterproof cloth, rubber balls and dolls, overshoes enough for all Russia, with the new Ford system of 8 to 36 persons working on the whole process on one overshoe. At one point the Director blandly led me into this room where a score of girls were innocently rolling rubber protectors or “overcoats” for males on black sticks. This reminded me of the story of the fellow who came into a drug store and bought one, then came back in 30 minutes and bought two, then half a dozen, and finally all in a dingle came back and bought 6 dozen. He said he had decided to stay all night. We went on down the aisle, the Red Direcor shouting with laughter over this story. Trevas my red guide was also very much interested in this branch of the production as I noticed.
When we had returned to the Director’s office, he ordered tea and platters of bread and bologne and I started off on the subject of his salary again.
Is it true that you receive only 225 roubles?
Well, besides I have the right to use one of the factory automobiles day or night for business or private purposes.
Why does a Soviet director receive 225 and not 1000 roubles?
Marx has said that ‘life develops the mind’. If I as a director would get ten times more than the workers, it would withdraw me from their psychology.
Do you want to be near the workers as a Communist or as a person?
Our policy is to develop ourselves along with the intellectual development of the masses.
If you had the choice would you rather be at the bench or here in the director’s chair?
Personally, I think under our conditions it is easier to be a worker than to direct a factory.
That is not answering my question.
I am a member of the Party, by birth a worker, but by present conditions a director. I must decide where I am more useful and work there. I consider that I can be more useful to the government as a director than as a worker.
But as a human being, what is your wish? Put aside all your duty to the Party, etc. etc.
Very well, I put aside all considerations of the Party, etc. etc. Here is Janen, a man. Let Mr. Dreiser answer one question: can you as a writer believe that it is possible to look on a man only from the human point of view and independent of his environment?
Yes. I see the man as a unit in a mass. There is the mass & there is the unit. And cannot blend them.
Why are you a writer?
I was born a writer.
Then I was born a director.
I laughed but Aside to Trevas with whom I made a bet that Janen would not answer my question: I said Give me five kopecks. And he paid.
Since he once more proceeded to attack America as a gross, material, reactive land I launched into a patriotic oration about the debt Russia owes to America for her industrial technique, machinery, etc.
Yanen: There is a proverb: Nothing existed in the beginning. God made the first man and hung him on the wall to dry. From where did America learn the capitalist system? America is an international nation. Her capitalists, her financiers, her scientists, came from every country in the world. Her capitalists, as you say, were nothing at the beginning, so that is why America is a democracy. They were poor immigrants, who risked all in coming to the new world, and there the rich natural resources gave them the opportunity to develop and create industry. Without them where would your capitalists be?
But without our capitalists, our money geniuses, our inventions & what not else where would America be. I answered and I traced the rise & services of various financial giants—Col. Cornelius Vanderbilt & the rail roads, Jay Cooke & the financing of the Civil War; John D. Rockefeller & oil; Pullman & the sleeping car; Carnegie & the steel industry & his libraries, Ford & his car; Hearst; Crocker, Stanford & others, the Union Pacific; Armour & the meat industry—a long list. I showed briefly what they had done for a land that needed to be developed and was developed quickly by genius functioning individually and for gain. I insisted that the big brain had powers & capacities for service which the little one had not & which it must reflect—though I hold no brief for exploitation and least of all tyranny. The lion and the lamb should lie down within reasonable distance of each other—but he would not agree with me. The capitalist must be hobbled—or harnessed like a horse & compelled to draw the heavy earthly burdens for the little man. Here in Russia it was so. If a man wanted position he must serve and for the same wages as the little man. I agreed that this might be made true if the proletariat continued to maintain an armed dictatorship and could not be outwitted by the strong man with the big brain. It might even be possible by catching all people young (ala the Catholic Church) to psychologize the strong brains as well as the weak ones into believing that communism was right—the only truth—but I was not sure. Nature was by no means entirely collective or entirely individualistic. Here & there was an individualistic animal; also a collective herd. Both did well, only the individualistic animal preyed & thrived in the herd.
“And should exterminated” he added.
“All right,” I replied, “catch your children early—before the religionist or the individualist get them & train them to ‘kill the individualist’.”
“We will catch the individualist & train him to believe in communism.”
“It is the only way you will down him” I replied. But I wrote in his book. “I have talked with and learned from an able man”. He wanted my address so that if ever he was permitted to enter America he could look me up.
In the evening we went to the Sovkino again and saw two excellent pictures: ‘Storm’ and ‘Ryazanskiye Women’.12
‘Storm’ is a story of the civil war in the south. A Russian sailor takes part in the October Revolution in Petrograd and then commands a detachment of red soldiers in the fighting in the south. On the march they capture a small group of bandits who are led by a woman. This woman is young and attractive and daring. She begins to use her charms on the sailor and against the advice of his assistant, the commander permits her to sleep in their room. A relationship thus begins between them, looked upon with distrust by the young assistant. In one of the captured towns, she organises her bandits, all of whom have accompanied the army, to rob the old owner of the house in which they are quartered. The young assistant officer discovers them in the execution of the crime and is killed by the woman. When the commander learns of the murder he is stricken with remorse and gives himself up to his men as a traitor who sold his friend for a woman. The soldiers do not want to punish him; the woman leader and the bandits are led out, and the sailor himself gives the order to shoot them. The plot is interesting and clearly worked out, the photography is good and the general technique very good.
The second picture is a gem. I have never seen more beautiful photography. The story is compelling, the characters and scenes very realistic. The story takes place in a village in Riazansky Gubernia. The leading figure is a big, stern old peasant with a long beard and keen, cruel dark eyes who rules his household with an iron hand. His eldest son has already been killed in the war which is going on in the year 1916, and he has taken unto himself the widow who lives with him and his wife. The younger son is of marriageable age and the daughter, a willful girl with some of the strength of character of her father, is in love with a blacksmith and goes to live with him without the consent of her father, which of course makes their marriage illegal in old Russia. The father prepares to marry off his son and calls the marriageable women of the countryside to his house to choose a wife. Only by chance a girl who lives with her aunt in an adjoining village and whom the young man had already seen and admired, is brought for inspection. The old man likes her himself and she is chosen. There is the gay wedding, and they are very happy, but shortly after, the young husband is called away to war and the father and the three women are left do do the farm work. After three years, news comes that the boy has been killed; the old man at once begins to pay open court to the young widow, this is noticed by the other two women and brings their hatred down on the head of the unwilling girl. The time comes when the old man attacks and violates the girl and she gives birth to a baby. News comes that the son is alive and is coming home. The girl is in a terrible position, scorned and hated by the two women and taunted and despised by the whole village as an immoral woman, she awaits the arrival of her husband in terror. When he comes, although the women know the truth, they tell the son that his wife has been untrue to him, and has a child by some unknown man. He throws her from him and in desparation she runs to the river bank, near which a spring festival is taking place, and throws herself in the river. When her body is carried into the cottage, the erring sister comes in and takes the child, telling the son that she will take it to the new Soviet children’s home and that he should speak to the father of the child, their father, about it. She goes out down the road. The son, realising the truth, goes toward his father with upraised arm. Except for the little incident of the Soviet children’s home in the picture, it is artistically perfect. The sweep of the grain fields rippling in the sunlight, the villagers in their picturesque costumes, the village streets, make lovely pictures. And like every serious picture of Sovkino, it has its social purpose.
After the program, the manager of Sovkino theaters, Timofaev, showed us the club of the 400 workers employed by the Leningrad Sovkino which directs 800 movie theaters in the gubernia. It was an extensive club with all the activities and sections to be found in every workers club connected with his place of work: wall newspapers, Lenin corner, radio, meeting hall, library, shooting circle and medical training corps, work with the villages, aid of homeless children, etc. It is to be noted that everything in the life of the worker centers about his place of work: first the job itself, then his insurance department at the place of work, the local of the Communist Party, the medical dispensary, the cultural department, then his trade union club which not only has educational circles but also has entertainments, etc., he also votes from his place of work. Timofaev said that he had just come from a factory meeting of 800 Young Communists who had gathered to discuss the kind of pictures needed. It was a big debate in which the Sovkino representatives took part. The evening before there had been another big meeting of workers in the Red Triangle Rubber Factory at which the workers expressed their demands as to pictures, and criticised the past achievements. For instance, they needed more pictures about young people, or about village life. From all these demands, the manager said that Sovkino sifts out a general public demand and trys to comply with it.
Wed, Nov. 30th 1927 - Leningrad, Hotel Europe.
Leningrad is in some ways more—in other less interesting than Moscow. Its streets are so much wider & more regularly placed—and in consequence and because of its division into islands and the width of some its waterways—the vistas are more striking. Water links always achieve perspectives for a city which a lack of them presents.
As for my entourage—the group which has been assigned me here is vigilant & genial but a little boring. There are so many fixed things the Soviet is determined the foreigner must see—usually (always, I might say) things which relect glory on the Soviet labors. In consequence I am hauled here & there all to speedily. As for touching or sensing the intimate, commonplace life of the city—not a taste. And as for time to idle out about & dream in out of the way places—not an hour.
And now as to Trevis—my chief guide. What a sly, opourtunistic Jew. I am sure that at heart he is no more a communist than I am—but he talks it all the time. Also I think he is making money on the side. He claims he is only receiving 225 roubles a month but, unless I miss my guess, there is a rake-off for him in the bills he compiles & keeps so carefully. But if you talk to him—oh, what service the grafters & private concessionaires—are, these snakes worming their way into the heart of this great Soviet System. They ought to be shot. But that he is a grafter in a petty way I not only guess but have pretty good reason to know.
At about 11 this day we started out on our at times—to me—tiresome rounds. Museums—God—what a pest they can become. And today was to be—(principally) Museums. There was—(1)
The Hermitage, a museum of art treasure just adjoining the Winter Palace. Our guide, Alexander Vasilevitch Suslov, a man of cultur gave very interesting information about the different works of art. The first rooms were devoted to old ornaments and jewelry excavated in the Crimea and dating back to the fifth and sixth centuries B.C. They were made of pure gold in intricate designs, some so miniature that they could hardly be seen. There was a display of crown jewels, diamonds, pearls, rubies, emeralds, which might easily be sold to buy tractors without robbing the world of art treasures. A large part of the enormous collection of cameos of Katherine the Great was on exhibition, some of them done by the Empress herself. Due to her devotion to art, there is a marvelous collec. of foreign paintings, for instance, 40 Rembrandts, Rubens, Raphael, Leonardo De Vin, Corot, room after room of rare pictures. Passing the border of the old museum, we entered the palace itself which is now also a museum. From the windows of the salon of Katherine, I had a sudden beautiful view of the river and on the other side the church near the Fortress of Peter and Paul, its slender tall spire shining radiantly in the light of the hitherto unseen sun of Leningrad. On the other side, the window of the great rooms looked out on the square, which was the scene of the greatest battles of the revolution in 1917 and where now the official demonstrations are held, as in the Red Square in Moscow.
When we had finished our tour, I sat down to rest in the entry below.
From the Hermitage we went to the studio factory of Sovkino. This is the largest of the Soviet Moving Picture Studios in Russia just now—although a large one is being built in Moscow. This one covers about seven acres and is a small imitation of the same thing in Hollywood. They are getting ready to do great things so they say—and already you get a sense of how seriously they take themselves. Large salaries are not allowed nor palatial homes for directors or movie queens—(the chief director—Mr. Greenfeld—a Jew—only gets 300 roubles a month.—The highest star 300 roubles a week)—but just the same there are cars, office boys, sub-servient sub-assistants—a great show & clatter of direction— and so as much as anywhere they feel their oats. You cant get in unless you are somebody. They may “Tovarisch”: (English—“Comrade”) each other all they please—but I notice that a “comrade” in a lower position takes off his hat & bows & scrapes about as much as he does anywhere. Equality— a better day for the poor dub—he is going to run things—we’ll wait & see.
The main building is very large and was before the revolution a great amusement palace with skating rink and other amusements. Now the rink is the main studio, and here 40 scenes can be taken at one time. There were sets standing for street scenes and interiors while on the side small scenes were being taken, close-ups etc. for instance, close-up of a Red Army officer with a revolver. The property rooms were like a vast junk shop, all kinds of furniture, pictures, dishes. In a separate building, rooms had just been completed which were especially light for their sculptor to make furnishings, statues, etc. on order for the sets. Using plaster on wood he was able to imitate very well stone structure.
By the time we returned to the comfortable offices, the director, Greenfeld, had arrived—a small, shrewd, middle-aged man, Jewish, speaks English fluently, and was much amused at my request for vodka and my surprise that a kino factory could run without it. He says he works about 16 hours a day, has been in the work only 3 years. Finally, vodka was found and I drank it in my tea, thus discovering a wonderful drink. We then went to the studio and had our pictures taken.
At 6—as usual we had dinner in the hotel dining room. I tried to persude someone to take me to a simple Russian restaurant in Leningrad—but no—foreigners must see only granduer—and what pinchbecks—left over granduers.13
At seven P.M. I have an interview:
Interview with Platon the Cardinal of the Russian Reformed Greek Church. This was at my request and was arranged for me by the Leningrad branch of VOX—the Soviet Society for International Cultural relations. The reason I desired to talk with Platon was this. I heard that backed by Soviet influence he was trying to reform the Greek church from within;—to swing it—as near as possible, into some position where its adherents would be at least not inimical to Socialist Soviet intellectual and social programs. Also I had heard that he was in part successful—that so far he had succeeded in capturing 1/3 of the followers of the Orthodox Greek Church and that whether he personally proved successful or not it was likely that the movement headed by him would cause the remainder of the Orthodox Greek leaders—communicants, to adopt or accept a more liberal—or less dogmatic religious viewpoint. Hence the following:
Platon, when he came, was dressed in simple long black robes. His long brown hair fell to his shoulders and above his long beard was a calm, beautiful face with large, brilliant gray eyes. He had that Christ-like expression so often noticed in priests.
---- How many people did the old Russian church represent?
80% of the population.
Was this the national religion?
Yes, it was obligatory on all citizens.
Do you represent the whole Russian church or only one part?
Only one part.
What % of the entire population are now adherents of your part?
32% of the religious population are my adherents.
What per cent of the population believes in the old church?
Two thirds in the old church, one third in the reformed church.
What per cent of the present population adheres to the churches?
50% of the former adherents.
You mean in other words, 50% of the former 82%.
Yes.
Why did your part separate from the old?
After the October Revolution, the situation of the church was not in conformity with the new order. The leaders of the old church thought to use the old church to build Christian life in accordance with the old faith. This leadership of the church came in conflict with the new form of government. As a result, there came a full break with the old church and this aroused a political terror on the part of the government. The general lines of the old church after 1917 were laid out in decisions of a Congress of the old church. Tikhon, the leader, showed that he wanted to save Russia. After this discussion, some of the leaders of the church addressed in 1922 a petition to Tikhon in which they stated that if he continued the old policy it would have a very bad influence on the Russian church. The Patriarch replied that until the calling of the new Congress he would abdicate from his seat. I must say that this petition was inspired by the wish to organise a church which could satisfy more adequately the living needs of the masses.
What were the new principles of this movement?
The so called reformed church is a result of a movement which began in 1905 and these people were its successors. In order to understand the line of the church movement it is necessary to remember that the better representatives of the new church in 1905 wanted to change the superstitious mind of the people and give less emphasis to formalities. The new leadership had a new social outlook as well as new religion view and for this reason a certain number did not join the new reformed church. The religious mass was reactionary and conservative in their political point of view; some of the leaders were an arm of the czarist government and so were opposed to the idea of a political change. The illiterate masses belived that the new church was a political attempt of the Soviet Government to destroy their church. In the present situation the government is not interested in my church and my church has no connection with the government.
Will the state allow your church to develop as you wish, or does it interfere?
I shall continue with my explanation. The old church realized that it must repair the old mistakes, and in answer to the anathema of Tikhon made a statement that it legalized the social revolution and supported the Soviet Government, and so the Soviet Government gave full legal rights to this reformed church, and after six years we can say that there is no interference of any kind on the part of the Soviet Government, and on our side also no interference with the government.
What does the new church offer which the old church refused to give?
I must say that the old church did not and does not refuse to give the church reforms, but in the political struggle which came after the October Revolution of 1917, the Orthodox leaders were so busy with politics & have been since that as yet they have done nothing toward real reforms. The old church was generally led by priests in monasteries and episcopates who had lost ideological contact with the masses. They still wanted to hold the direction of the church and make martyrs of themselves if the government persecuted them. One of the ideals of the new church is to liberate the believing masses from this influence of the monastic group. But that does not mean that the new movement is entirely against monastics, for in general it supports the system. But in regard to marriage among the priesthood, the Congress of the new church made it possible for married priests to become lawfully high dignitaries.
“Is that what you consider one of the important reforms of the new Greek church?”
“I know what you are thinking. And I will answer you presently. Dogmatically this is an important reform. Married priests were not permitted to aspire to the highest places of the church. With this dogma the synod of the new church does not agree.”
Two days ago, the Plenum of the Holy Synod, in preparation for the next Congress, was finished. At this, a resolution was passed concerning married priests—that there should be no difference between simple priests and high dignataries in their rights to marry. Of course, this organisational question is not by any means the principal difference between the new and the old. One of the principal aims of the new church is to educate the people, decrease illiteracy and in general bring the masses nearer to culture. As to dogma, we stand on strict eastern forms and close contact with the Eastern Greek church.
Then there has been no change in dogma?
None. Mine is a purely orthodox church. The orthodox Eastern churches have their official representative to the new Holy Synod of my church, and by them he is considered the real representative of the real Russian orthodox church.
------ Do the dogmas of the Greek church coincide with the Roman church of the west generally?
Many are the same, but the Roman church departed somewhat from the old beliefs. The Eastern Greek church represents more closely the fundamental principles of Christ.
“To you the Pope at Rome is not the divinely authorized Vicar of Christ on earth?”
“No”
“And never has been”
“No.”
“Your general sacrements are about the same?”
“Yes”
“Confession?”
“Yes”
“Communion”?
“Yes”
“Baptism?”
“Yes”
“Marriage”?
“Yes”
“By the way is your reformed church growing or is it failing?”
The reformed church, as far as recognised as the real representative of the orthodox church, is getting stronger. The old church is only recognised by the Soviet Government in July 1927 and now will be legalised. But at present there is a conflict for power among the leaders. In the reformed church there cannot be this struggle for power because the plan of the new management places it not in one head but in all the high dignitaries, and the body of followers has a voice in electing the high priests.
Then you are sovietizing the church?
No, we are only returning to the old customs of the church when the dignitaries were the elected representatives of the congregation.
------- That was only for 300 years, after Christ
But the church itself never destroyed the system, it was the state which put her own high officials into the church in positions of power. Now that the church is again free from the domination of the state it can again put in this system.
------- Does your church do any social welfare work?
In every one of our church organisations of my faith there is a body of followers who do welfare work in their own community. Besides, the followers themselves must take care of the church, do the cleaning, etc. They must also do intelligent Christian charity, help their neighbors —
--------- What is intelligent Christian charity?
The old church did not try to give material support to the followers, but we try to organise brotherly material help.
--------- How will you help materially? With hospitals etc. like the Soviet Government.
The Christian religion demands an attitude of brotherly love among its followers in an intimate way but we consider all the charitable organisations of the old church harmful. Therefore, when the government wanted to take away from the church the right to organise charitable institutions, we agreed with the state.
-------- How then do you help?
We don’t consider this a special problem and do not take active part in the organisation of institutions, but teach brotherly love. For example, when the earthquake occurred in the Crimea, we did not give direct aid, but when the government made an appeal to the people, the church proposed to collect money in the church and give to the fund. During the famine, the government demanded help from the churches. The old church said, if we give church treasures for famine relief we must do it officially through our church and not give these treasures into strange hands—but the new church said, it is good that the state has organs to help the famine, and we will help through them.
“In other words the church seeks to support the state instead of demanding that the state submit to the church?”
“Yes”
“But is not this abdicating the supreme rulership and direction of the God you worship?”
“No, The ideologic view of the new church is different. We see the spirit of God,—his hand—in certain necessary social changes—changes that oppose evil and aid good. Thus we feel that certain social improvements can spring from the will of the people,—can even be created by social revolution and that this can bring about a society or social condition not unlike the reign of God on earth which will come some day. This belief in the social revolution is an important fact because this is why some are leaving the new church, because they say that revolt is not right, that it is never right for classes to go against one another. But we say that revolt of the oppressed against their oppressors is a natural development, and we are against not the oppressed but the oppressors; in this we follow the old prophets of the Bible.
--------- Is your church content to leave the education of the children to the state or do you want—to influence it?
We think thus: that the intellectual development of the individual must be voluntary and not in any way forced, and therefore as long as the state takes care of education we think it dangerous — as long as that education is in line with the social welfare of the mass to dictate the religious principles which must govern.
“Yet the church expects at some time to influence the individual (when he is grown)?
The church does not leave the child without its influence. It gets this through the Christian family. The child is also permitted to participate freely in the mysteries of the church. When the child is grown and has attained cultural development he begins to take an interest in all sides of life, and it is then that church must on its side make its propaganda.
------- But suppose the child is educated in the modern way, science, Darwin, history, philosophy, how will the church approach him when we are, what will it offer?
If a person so educated has not at the same time lost interest in the church, the church has all kinds of materials to present of a scientific nature in which he can find truth. Social academics of religious science which will produce religious scientists exist.
------- But You maintain belief in the direction of a divine Power.
“Yes.”
“Yet in my reading of the present Soviet or Communistic faith it does not believe in the direction of a divine power. There is a public sign in Moscow which reads “Religion is the opiate of the people”.
“I know of it. None the less we believe that the direction of the divine power is visible in many—most of the idealistic principles of the present regime”
“But the present Soviet regime will not trust the education of the child to any religion—yours included.
“That is true”
Do you agree with that?”
We are a practical church organisation and have not taken up the question. But my personal opinion is that such training in general culture, true cultural development, as is now given in Russia does not conflict with religious — education.
“But if the education of the child were in your hands, how would you proceed to educate it.”
“Naturally the principles & dogmas of our faith could not & would not be ignored. But since we are faced by a condition which gives a general and helpful education to the child we content ourselves with work—or perhaps better yet the influence of the church in the home. When the child is old enough We give all material for and against to him and the child decides for himself, for we believe that the individual must develop himself.
--------- Don’t you believe that when a man is educated in the Soviet schools that your dogmas will conflict with his education and contradict them?
I answer so:
If a man finishes a broad cultural and material education and cannot agree with our dogmas, then it means that the church will die. But if we could believe that such a thing could happen, we could not go on with our work, for the need of a faith in something will always remain.
------- Don’t think that I am asking silly questions. I have always believed that religious emotions need not conflict with science. In the United States the Catholic Schools confine the education of the child to subjects which will not conflict with religious dogmas, in short only practical subjects are taught.
“So I understand. But as you see for yourself there is no possibility of such a situation here. We are not permitted to educate—merely to influence the child—if we can.
“And still you believe religion will not die”
“I am sure of it. Indeed as regards the eternal conflict between the Hegelian theory and the religious theory, between the theory of the divine mind and the materialistic mind, if the thesis of materialism predominates, an antithesis will arise in the matter of the spirit.
---------- Will there be then, do you think, a new interpretation of life from two points, the spiritual and material?
“I have studied philosophy, but it is difficult in a few words to discuss these questions. I think it is better to finish first our discussion of the church movement . . . Now the minority is with us because we don’t want big crowds. What we want is well trained and cultured people who will spiritually understand and accept our faith. Our material conditions are bad; the old church organises a material boycott against our church, and even deprives our followers materially when possible, so we are very poor. But our organisation is very strong and has connections with foreign churches and nucleuses in Greek orthodox churches abroad. So with full faith and peace we face the future.
Thursday Dec 1-1927- Leningrad-Hotel Europe
Although the day started badly, (there was not enough on our program to make it worth while spending another day in the city) nevertheless I had a very interesting day. In the morning we went to the Leningrad Public Library, which, with the Library of Congress, is counted the second largest in the world, 4,600,000 books. After the revolution, the acquisition of large private libraries doubled the number of volumes. The building itself is very old, in fact, the entrance to the administrative offices was so dilapadated that I was sure we were making a mistake. However, as we progressed in our journey through the many rooms, the appearance greatly improved and the library began to wear an ancient dignity and grandeur. The endless leather bound volumes were closely placed on shelves reaching to the ceiling, and rare books stood or lay in glass cases, for instance the entire library of Voltaire, purchased by Katherine after his death. There were many original manuscripts of Russian writers like Tolstoy and Dostievsky. I inquired about the philosophy department, but it was so vast that I had to ask for some specific branch, so I chose witchcraft. I was led into a room and the director of that department, and his assistants began to bring me aged volumes of magic, sorcery, etc. in French, Latin, Greek, and I had some difficulty in escaping from the eager helpfulness of the librarian, for I had no time to pore over these fascinating old books. There was a special exhibit in one room of material from the October Revolution, placards, manifestoes, newspapers, etc. which would have been interesting to examine. Through a window above we looked down on the long reading room full of people sitting at the tables or waiting in line at the desk. However, it is quite evident that the reading room is not large enough for the patrons. A new building which will be finished in the course of a few years is now in process of construction to house this great library. As we went out, I met the chief librarian who is the father of the head of VOKS—a little plump man with eye-glasses who comically resembles his son.
One of things about this library that impressed me was the Sovietizadon of the same. In the office of the librarian—a large portrait of Lenin. Also one of Marx. In the reading room—(main), portraits of Stalin, Bukharin, etc. In one of the great chambers an exhibition of posters, pictures, pamphlets, books etc relating to the “Red October” and its triumph. In the library at large a special department filled with books relating to socialism, communism and the new Soviet ideology. In short the kow-towing of the intelligentsia to the workingman & peasent with the gun. And all the employes—from director down, extremely civil to everybody—especially the proletariat—everybody a Tovarisch—or Comrade, to everybody else; Marks, Engel, George etcetera, great & finest thinkers on this business of living & thinking—in short the intelligentsia kowtowing at present to brother farmer & worker, since they happen to be armed and directed by idealists who tell them that they are all there is to this business of living— that bread, potatoes and art come first for the worker—artisan really— and last for everybody else.
Oh, Aristotle—where art thou?
Our guide was a very solicitious and energetic young man; he insisted on my seeing the Academy of Sciences, and I didn’t feel the slightest interest in it. But he had already telephoned the director that we were coming so I reluctantly submitted on the condition that we would escape as soon as possible. Fortunately no more important personage than the assistant director wasted his time on me. I asked him a few polite questions and he (a very energetic looking man with fiercely curling fair moustaches) disposed of me quite efficiently by packing us off to Pushkin’s House. The main reason for my impatience with libraries, academies and museums was the fact that it was the first sunny day in Leningrad and the city looked so radiant with the bright sunlight shining on the snow and on the golden domes and spires that it seemed a crime to go inside. The chauffeur had put down the top of the car, and we went off to Pushkin’s House again on condition that we would not stay long. The museum had been moved only recently to a very attractive gray stone building with large windows. The director himself very graciously conducted us about; I was glad to learn that the museum was devoted not only to Pushkin but also to all the Russian writers of his period. There were portraits and original manuscripts of all my favorite Russian authors, but the main exhibit was about Pushkin, which showed the different periods of his life from childhood to death. It seems that his grandfather was a negro, a page in the czar’s court, and in his portrait one sees a resemblance to Pushkin. There were also pictures and articles concerning the duel in which he was killed by the husband of his wife’s sister.
When we came out again the winter sun, which had circled low along the eastern sky, was almost setting. We crossed the bridge and drove for some distance to another part of the city to the Buddhist Temple. It is surrounded by a high wall, an exact reproduction of the temples in India, Siam and Mongolia. A friendly little Mongolian who came out at that moment agreed to show us the interior. Strange and impressive as was the outside of the fine structure, the inside made a tremendous impression on me as I entered and saw facing me a great idol of brass. The walls of the temple were hung with long strips of oriental silk and wierd paintings of Chinese looking figures were on either side the door. Here in Leningrad, old St. Petersburg, I had hardly expected suddenly to be transported to a mystic Indian temple.
As we drove back across the city in the early twilight, we passed a red wagon with a coffin standing on it and behind a few mourners walking. The coffin was wrapped in red cloth,— the funeral of a Communist. Not far beyond this in the snow loomed up the blue & grey dome of the Mohamedan Mosque with its twin minarets standing before the church on a broad platform—quite the lovliest single building I have seen in Russia thus far. The early evening sky was so sleepy—with a faint pink glow on some clouds just above the horizon. Something at once gay & sad in the air. I fell to thinking of America—New York & singing Victor Herberts “Kiss me—Kiss me.” R. K. who was along said—“Ah, that brings back California. I felt a touch of homesickness—ached if you will believe it to be out of Russia.”
At 7 P.M. we went to the theatre for Young Spectators. This is one of those propagandist ideologic theatres fostered by the Soviet Regime and intended to effect a change of social psychology in the mind of the young. All of these things—as I was beginning to feel, were redolent (odoriferous if you will) of the Catholic church & it’s policy toward the young—its desire to color permanently the psychology of the same. I have said—and repeat—that the Soviet Central Committee got rid of one iron dogmatic faith only to erect a second & to me more dangerous one in its place.
However that may be I was enthusiastically greeted by the Director, Alexander Briantsev, a little man with a round fair face, mild blue eyes and a scant little beard which looked absurd on his childlike face; the stage director, Eugene Hackel, a thin young fellow; and a more sophisticated looking man, with a Shavian face, Waldemar Beyer, the decorator. The entry was buzzing with boys and girls ranging in age from eight to fourteen. The play of the evening was Schiller’s ‘The Bandits’, and the stage director was eager to give me the outline of the plot before the play began. He had revised it somewhat for the children, had written a prologue to each act which connected the play with the life of Schiller, and was very proud of the results. The theater was exceedingly well built for the young audience, the broad seats in a semi-circle like an amphitheater, so that no spectator was far from the stage. I liked the stage sets very much, the scene was very quickly changed by shifting long silver pillars, swung on ropes into different positions, and some slight change of properties. But my first impression of the play itself was very bad. It seemed to be old fashioned declamation, but after the first act, I began to get accustomed to the shouting and came to the conclusion that the style of acting suited the play. Judging from the deafening applause, the laughter, sighs and tears, the young audience liked it. At the end of the first act, the stage director took us back to the director’s tiny office. He introduced me to the pedagogical head of the theater, who studies the needs of the children and their reactions to the plays. There are forms which the children fill out giving their opinions and these, as well as observation of the spectators during performances, are the basis for their conclusions.
After the play, we returned to the director’s office. On the way, we went behind the scenes and met the actors still in their grease paint and costumes. They gathered about and greeted me. One girl stepped up and said, ‘We want to go to America’. I told them we would be very glad to see them all in America as they were good actors. In the little office of the director we were served tea and perozhniye (french pastries) and I asked a few questions.
------- What morals do you teach the children?
Not only communism but general principles of personal conduct, not to strive for personal good fortune but for the benefit of the community. But our chief aim is not to teach morals but to give pure art. Every community is made up of human beings and we must teach them to live together. Our theater is ‘for young spectators’ and we try to get our inspiration from our audience. We were the first, but now we have many followers.
------- Does the Soviet Government wish to make this kind of theater a part of the educational plan?
This is a provincial theater and so does not get direct support from the center, but our local Soviet supports us. (The theater costs the government 250,000 roubles a year). We try to educate the spectator so that when he grows up he will be trained to go to the new theater. The local Soviets try to organise more of such theaters and apply to us for advice so that the general idea will spread.
-------- From where do the actors come?
First the founders were a small group, including the actors, who had been dreaming of this idea a long time. We at first got money from the Central Department of Education in Moscow, and then after two years from Leningrad. During the famine, we got only bread and herring. For two years the actors gave 30% of their salaries to the theater fund. The director had been a teacher in a childrens school and had been a well known stage manager. Besides this first group there is a whole line of actors who come to the director and apply for places, but we cannot take casually, we take only specially qualified graduates of Actors’ Universities and those who have the ideal of the children’s theater. We have no school, but all actors receive special training here. In the craft of the actor it is necessary to follow one school. We follow the system of Stanislavsky as do most of the Russian theaters, including Meierhold.14 We do not imitate him, but accept his discovery of the fundamental principles of the theater. The art of the actor has different expressions, he must convey emotions to the audience, his speech must be perfect. The rythm of the actors should be the same, and so vocal training is very important, especially choir training. The third requirement is motion—the actor must be nimble, graceful, and for this we have rythmic gymnastics, physical culture, dancing, fencing, acrobatics. Every day before rehearsals they have two lessons. According to the trade union law, the actor’s working day is 6 hours, but our actors work 8 hours and even more. There are special meetings every week to discuss all aspects of the work.
In the matter of stage setting, We do not create special settings for each play but have a certain stage setting which we adapt. It is an original idea for a stage and was worked out by myself (director). We chose this particular building because of the possibilities of the stage. I decided upon the amphitheater and arena because I had always the idea that for the youth the stage must have a dynamic character and demand the freedom of the actor. So it was necessary to find a form of stage that would not restrict the actor’s expression or dynamics. To give an uninterrupted view to every spectator, the circle is necessary. Of course, such a stage is poor for a play which demands many changes of scenery, so we added some principles of the medieval stage.
We then fell to discussing the present craze in Russia for Sovietizing all plays—twisting the psychology so as to inculcate communistic ideals. Seeing a stage setting for Uncle Toms Cabin & inquiring when & how that was done, I finally asked—“How does your production of it differ from the American standard. Have you preserved it intact?”
“No” was the reply—and I immediately sensed international complications.
Here We must adapt plays to audiences. In Uncle Tom’s Cabin the attention should not center on Tom who is a passive character but on the active hero, George. But of course certain traditions of the book must be kept, only the direction is changed. “You dont say”, I thought and added aloud
-------- I’m afraid that when my government hears of this there will be trouble. I shall do my best to prevent war.
Sinclair does not exist in the play. The sentimental part is thrown out. Eva doesn’t exist —
--------- I’m afraid that I can’t prevent war! Shelby is a good man to his negroes until he sells Eliza and her daughter (not son). There are their adventures during the flight and Tom, Eliza and her daughter are sold at auction. George, Eliza and her husband run away, and the engineer of a factory (invented) helps them. He appreciates George who is a clever worker, and Mr. Legree buys the daughter and Tom. Tom and George help Eliza and her daughter to escape. (There is no ice) —
--------- (I’m not even sure — that I want to prevent war!)
But there are three real wolf hounds, and at this point all the audience cries bitterly (we had to drop the music to decrease the weeping). LeGree flogs Tom. The daughter of Shelby gives Tom a revolver. LeGree sells the dying Tom, and the little negro boy (Ben) takes the revolver and kills LeGree.
Leningrad, Friday, Dec. 2-1927 Hotel Europe
In the morning I visited the Red Putiloff—the Great Engine Works of Leningrad. This was built, so I understood, in 1835. Before the war— under the Czar it employed 35,000 men. Today, under Communism it employs 11,000. Two years ago it employed only 9,000. They make engines, tractors—an exact copy of Fords—also some special machinery— on order. They make very large & I am told powerful engines yet with this plant here capable of housing 35,000 men orders for engines are given to the Baldwin Co. in the U.S.A. (Phila Pa) and some big company in Switzerland. I looked over the Plant which is more or less meaningless to one not of a mechanical turn. I did not like the idea of deliberately stealing the Ford Tractor & copying it. Afterwards I talked with the Red Director—the man who looks after the interests of labor & tried to get a general idea of the state of the work here. As usual he painted a fair picture of progress—but knowing about the foreign orders for engines I could not believe it. Also he stated that the technical directors were German & Finnish—a fact which is not promising.
There are too many foreign directors in Russia—and too many local labor authorities over them—for that is what it comes to. The emphasis is always on the rights and the proper care of labor—never as it seemed to me, at least not sufficiently, on the labor or productive power of the workers—the technical skill & speed. The tempo of the place was slow. Too many men fooling their time away over one small job—six men for instance pushing a small hand-car accross the yard—a hand car with 3 small logs on it. One man could have done it. And when I inquired as to the whyness of it—all I could gather was that there were certain union rules which made groups in certain cases obligatory—and that these rules would first have to be modified by the union leaders at Moscow before anything could be done here.
But the director (for the general state of affairs) had the usual excuses. Insufficient machinery; no money to buy more—or not enough—or not fast enough. Not sufficient technical men in Russia. “Well, then”, I asked, “what about, —temporarily—reducing the building program for laborers— all the millions paid on the new apartments and cottages with all improvements and putting that money into machinery “. “All well enough to suggest but the state of the worker was so bad that his housing improvement could no longer be delayed. Besides he would not work as well as he did if his physical state were not improved. Besides the revolution had been based on a program of improvement for him & so it was only right & just that the first expenditures should be in his behalf. “But supposing all this expenditure on everything but this very necessary machinery results in the inability of Russia to meet all the needs of all the people—is not that likely to bring on unrest & counter revolution?” “No—because the general state of men in Russia was not so bad but that—knowing that the Central Government was doing all it possibly could for him with what it had, but that he would be content to wait until it could catch up.”
“And so no real danger to the Communist goverment lurks in this slow or delayed service”. “I think not”. I left him after another explanation as to why America would not loan Russia money—our American Banker goverment. Also why Sacco and Vanzetti were hanged in Massachusetts—the very peculiar Elements which might explain why the American people—in the main—was indifferent to their fate.15 He shook his head. I am sure he was convinced that I was a materialistically infected bourgeois—or blood-sucker, not fitted to either grasp or sympathize with the ills of the underdog.
P.S. This interview lasted from 1130 to 5 P.M. After dinning at the Hotel Yevro Parsky—with my five guides & mentors I left at 11—accompanied by Trevas and Ruth Kennell for Leningrad. There was, I learned afterwards, a sharp quarrel between Trevas and Ruth because she would not sleep with him. Her statement to me was that she was sure—unless she chose to yeild to him—which she did not, that he would force her out of her position as travelling secretary to me—he having more pull with the Cultural Relations Society than she did.
1. One of the largest domed churches in the world, St. Isaac’s stands in the central part of St. Petersburg next to the Neva embankment. Built between 1818 and 1858 by the French architect Montferrand, it was constructed in memory of St. Isaac the Dalmatian, a Byzantine monk whose feast day, 30 May, coincided with the birthday of Peter the Great. The Soviets transformed the cathedral into a museum in 1931.
2. A pood, is a Russian unit of weight equal to about thirty-six pounds.
3. The fortress built by Peter the Great on Hare Island (Zayachy Ostrov), it is the historic heart of St. Petersburg. For more than two hundred years it was officially called Fort St. Petersburg, but it later acquired the name of the two apostles to whom the fortress’s cathedral had been dedicated. Dreiser describes seeing the tombs of the czars, who from Peter the Great to Alexander III were buried in the church. Until 1917, the fortress also contained the prison that Dreiser describes.
4. Vera Nikolaevna Figner (1852–1942). A revolutionary and sister of the famous tenor Nicholas Figner, she became a legendary figure for the Soviet government. She had been exiled in 1904 and had spent her time abroad lecturing about her experiences in the years before the 1917 Revolution.
The Decembrists were those who took part in the failed uprising of December 1825; they were subsequently executed or exiled. Among other famous revolutionists jailed at the fortress were Maxim Gorky (1868–1936) and Lenin’s brother Aleksandr I. Ulyanov (1866— 87), who was imprisoned there before he was hanged for his part in an attempt to kill the czar.
5. Evgeny Onegin is Pushkin’s famous novel, written in verse. Tchaikovsky wrote an opera based on the novel.
6. The New Economic Policy was the state program in effect during the 1920s; it moved away from a strictly communist economy to a modified socialist-capitalist system.
7. Town in Leningrad (St. Petersburg) oblast. The Pushkin Memorial Museum and the lycée attended by the children of nineteenth-century nobles are both located there.
8. K.P. stands for Knights of Pythias, an American fraternal order similar to the Shriners and Elks.
9. The Soviet film studios in Leningrad were known as the Sovkino.
10. Anton Ivanovich Denikin (1872–1947) was a Russian general during World War I. After the Russian Revolution he was jailed for supporting a revolt against the socialist government, but he escaped and established an army in the south of Russia. Denikin’s White Army (as opposed to the Red Army) was a powerful anti-Bolshevik force until 1920. Nikolay Nikolayevich Yudenich (1862–1933) was a Russian general during the Russo-Japanese War and again during World War I. In 1919 he commanded the White Army units based on the Baltic; his attack on Petrograd in that year was beaten off by the Red Army. Both generals were supported by the British and French with troops, supplies, and weapons during 1918 and 1919.
11. A verst is a Russian unit of distance that equals approximately 3500 feet.
12. Storm over Asia, directed by V. I. Pudovkin (1928); Women of Ryazan, directed by Olga Preobranzhenskaya (1927).
13. A pinchbeck is something sham or counterfeit.
14. Vsevolod Meyerhold was an actor and director who founded the Society of New Drama in Russia in 1902. In 1920 he became head of theater in the people’s commissariat for education. He began his own theater in Moscow and had a working studio with student directors, one of whom was Sergei Eisenstein.
15. Nicola Sacco and Bartolomeo Vanzetti were Italian immigrants and political radicals convicted of murder and robbery, despite conflicting evidence and testimony. Their case became a cause célèbre in the United States during the 1920s and sparked demonstrations and riots; the two men were electrocuted on 23 August 1927.