and now for me to recognize the election as invalid—that contradiction does not fit in my mind and my conscience.”26
All the leading papers wrote about the scandal, fueling Gorky’s popularity. Here it was, a clear sign of crisis of power: the tsar tried to punish a writer, but instead only increased his appeal.
In the final analysis, Nicholas II lost this small skirmish with Gorky. But, naturally, he did not even notice his defeat—it was about some “despicable tramp.” The revolution of 1917 was fifteen years away.
. . .
On Stalin’s order, the legend about the great friendship between Lenin and Gorky was created in the Soviet Union, based on several cleverly cropped quotes from Lenin’s writings on and to Gorky. But a close reading of the texts reveals a much more complex picture. It was not a friendship of equals. Lenin, who was two years younger, nevertheless behaved like a strict, demanding teacher dealing with his talented but errant student.
Lenin never stopped lecturing and chastising Gorky. In one letter, we find: “Why are you behaving so badly, chum? You’re overworked, tired, nerves on edge. This is unacceptable … No one to supervise you and you’ve let yourself go?” In another, “What are you doing? It’s terrible, really!”27 And so on.
In one of his articles, Lenin quotes Gorky as telling him, with an “inimitably sweet smile” in private conversation, “I know I’m a bad Marxist. We artists are all slightly irresponsible.” Lenin comments sarcastically, “It’s hard to argue with that … but then why does Gorky take on politics?”28
Lenin scolded Gorky before the Bolshevik revolution for his “ideological vacillation” and propaganda of “incorrect” (from Lenin’s point of view) philosophical theories; after the revolution, when Lenin was leader of Russia, he was irritated by Gorky’s endless attempts to save intellectuals who had offended the Bolsheviks and were threatened with prison or execution. He learned that Gorky divulged Lenin’s confidential views, expressed in private conversations with the writer, to the “counterrevolutionaries.”29 That was too much.
Their relationship ended with the Bolshevik leader pushing Gorky out of Russia in 1921, writing, “Leave, get treatment. Don’t be stubborn, I’m asking you.” As one of his Party comrades said of Lenin, “Ilyich loved anyone the party needed. Tomorrow, if that comrade should take the wrong position, Ilyich would drop all relations with him, and he would be ruthless toward him.”30
Lenin never really praised Gorky by using the lofty words he found for Leo Tolstoy or even Chernyshevsky. Gorky reluctantly admitted that. In his memoirs, quoting Lenin’s reaction to his political novel
Lenin wrote, “Literary work should become
Lenin formed this politicized utilitarian view of culture early and retained it throughout his life. Gorky tried many a time to persuade him that this was a mistake. He was the only major writer Lenin knew well, and Lenin valued the opportunity to talk with him, but he never yielded on any point.
Gorky took his revenge for Nicholas II’s persecution with his pamphlet
Gorky settled his accounts with Lenin, too, but in a different way, writing a seemingly loving essay after his death; in fact, it was a polemic against Lenin. It is Gorky’s masterpiece, on which he worked for almost ten years.
For Gorky, Lenin was a politician par excellence (“while I have an organic revulsion for politics,” noted Gorky). Earlier, when Lenin was alive, Gorky spoke even more frankly about him in the press: “A talented man, he has all the qualities of a leader as well as the requisite absence of morality and ruthless attitude toward the life of the masses.”
In his memoirs, Gorky analyzes Lenin in a more nuanced way. His Lenin admits, “I know little of Russia.” Nevertheless, he believes that he has a very good understanding of the Russian people: “The Russian masses have to be shown something very simple, very accessible. Soviets and communism are simple.”
Gorky’s Lenin is secretive (“He, like no one else, knew how to keep quiet about the secret storms of his soul”) and cruel: “ ‘What do you want?’ he would ask in surprise and anger. ‘Is humanity possible in such an unprecedented, fierce fight? Where is there room for soft-heartedness and magnanimity?’ ”
Gorky stressed Lenin’s “untrusting, hostile” attitude toward intellectuals. For Gorky, Lenin is a “strict teacher,” and the leader’s words remind him of “the cold sparkle of iron filings.” Then Gorky makes an about-face and, commenting on Lenin’s hidden pride in Russia and Russian art, which he had noticed, calls Lenin a “great child.” The errant student finally put his late teacher in his place. The writer had the last word.
Gorky’s unusual portrait of Lenin is the only psychologically perceptive depiction of the revolutionary leader made from life. It is worth comparing it to the no less unusual portrait of Nicholas II painted by one of the great Russian artists, Valentin Serov, in 1900.
Like Gorky, Serov was a masterful portraitist. His picture of Nicholas is important because of the artist’s unprecedented closeness to the model: for the first time in the history of the Romanov dynasty, the monarch posed obediently for many hours and days, fulfilling all the painter’s demands. (In 1920, the artist Natan Altman spent 250 hours in the course of six weeks in the Kremlin, sculpting Lenin’s bust while the Bolshevik leader worked, mostly ignoring Altman.)32
Serov was called prickly, capricious, and mean—both as a man and as a portraitist. Stocky, clumsy, hands always in pockets, Serov occasionally interrupted his grim silence to utter a gloomy aphorism through gritted teeth clenching a smoldering cigar.
His habits and looks did not keep Serov from becoming the favorite portraitist in prerevolutionary high society, and for almost a decade (1892 to 1901) he was the unofficial court painter of the Romanovs.
Serov was feared for his outspokenness, but he was respected for his honesty and sure mastery. A contemporary noted, “Patience and meekness were needed by anyone wanting to be painted by Serov.”33
Nicholas II ordered his “private” portrait as a gift for Empress Alexandra. In it, he is seated, leaning forward, his hands clasped wearily on the table, gazing quietly. He wears a shabby military tunic. (Nicholas II was known for wearing old, patched clothing at home.) It depicts Nicholas as a person sympathetically, even as it underscores his main political liability: the lack of energy and leadership.
Both Lenin and Gorky liked to talk—they had verbal diarrhea. While Serov and Nicholas II were famously taciturn, their relationship during work on the portrait turned into a mini-play.
