Corinne Nordt Russian Identity and the Matreshka Doll Is the

Corinne Nordt Russian Identity and the Matreshka Doll Is the matreshka doll a lie? Although Japanese in origin, tourists buy up this ubiquitous figure, interpreting it as traditional Russian folk art. Even I fell victim to this deception as I strolled along Nevskii Prospekt looking for the perfect and uniquely Russian memento. Today the matreshka is sold as a traditional Russian souvenir; however, not only did the doll not start out that way, but its modern meaning differs drastically from its original significance. The identity of the matreshka doll is illusive, both when considering its origins as well as its portrayal of Russian values. The same can be said about Russian identity. Russians are divided about whom they are, how they should live within society, and their place in the world. Neither East nor West, but somewhere in between we find what it truly means to be Russian. The compilation of these factors reveals the real Russian identity and from this we can see how the matreshka doll actually represents national character. The matreshka doll consists of a set of figures that stack up inside of one another in descending size. The largest figurine opens up, revealing a smaller one, which in turns reveals a yet smaller figurine, and so forth, with the “typical set contain[ing] three to twelve dolls” (Holmes 1). The name itself highlights maternity and reproduction, advertising the importance of the family and female roles in Russian culture. Marketed as the perfect Russian souvenir, both tourists and Russians flock to markets to buy into this scheme. Nordt 2 The real origin of this doll, however, would perhaps make customers think twice about purchasing this “Russian” object. With market pressures calling for a new Russian souvenir as Russia connected to Western capitalist societies, Sergei Maliutin and Vasilii Zvezdochkin, inspired by “a nesting doll recently imported from Honshu island of Japan,” created the first Russian version of this doll in the late nineteenth century (Arutyunov 1). Consisting of eight dolls, the figure was meant to symbolize the important Russian sobornost’ idea of a “united and happy family” (Billington 148-­‐49). Notably, there is no father figure in this happy family (more on this later). The Japanese nesting doll depicts Daruma Bodhidharma, a Buddhist monk (Arutyunov 1). This Japanese doll in turn was an adaptation of Chinese nesting boxes, which “date back to the Song Dynasty, around 1000 AD” (Tea Collection). Today this idea has been transformed into the Russian matreshka doll, with designs varying from the traditional series of kerchief-­‐covered motherly figures to satirical depictions of politicians, athletes, and celebrities. The original Chinese art of a nesting boxes were thus transformed into a market-­‐pleasing Russian memento. In this, Russia faces an interesting paradox. Bowing to Western market-­‐
pressures, the matreshka emerged based on an Eastern art form. Merchants rejoice in profiting in a Western-­‐style economy, while consumers revel at the exotic oriental Nordt 3 piece they think of as Russian. So what is the doll: Western or Eastern? More importantly: what is it to be Russian? The Myth of St. Petersburg encapsulates this latter dilemma. This myth, among other things, describes not only the Western-­‐Eastern binary image of St. Petersburg, but also transitively that of Russian identity “in people's consciousness and art” (Antsiferov 1). Scholars describe St. Petersburg as a fake or artificial city that has stolen architecture, art techniques, and even language from Western European cities while lacking a Russian originality of its own (Emmerson 1). The city seems entirely separated from Muscovite culture, which displays a more Eastern, and thus “more Russian,” culture than St. Petersburg. Russians had considered the city to be “the capital of the Russian Empire, but not truly the capital of Russia” (Emmerson 1). Peter the Great founded the city as “a window to the West,” forcibly moving the Russian capital from Moscow despite considerable controversy. For many, Moscow was still considered the capital of Russia, because it was regarded as a city that accurately captures Muscovite culture and history. Nordt 4 Some argue that such a hodgepodge compilation of Western culture in St. Petersburg produces a uniquely Russian environment, citing Peter the Great’s aspirations for Russia as he connected it to the West (Emmerson 1). This important piece of St. Petersburg history could in fact justify a Western identity for the city, but not for all of Russia. In the first sentence of his seminal novel Petersburg (1916/1922), Andrei Bely poses the question: “What is this Russian Empire of ours?” Throughout the novel the character of St. Petersburg exposes and reveals itself, and yet no clear answer is ever given. This suggests that its identity is something ethereal that cannot quite be put into words nor classified. When I asked my host mother Zinaida Dmitrievna this question, her reply was simple: “Russian is Russian.” She refuted it as either completely Western or Eastern, but simply accepted that it was something of its own born from the delicate combination of the two. St. Petersburg, or rather Russia, is many things, but it is not and can never be classified along with anything other than itself. This idea has a parallel in the formation of Russian identity. Nordt 5 For two centuries the Mongols ruled Russian territory and demanded tribute from the Russian people. During this time Moscow emerged as the Russian capital, uniting neighboring tribes against Mongol control. Moscow was the nation’s capital for centuries. At this point in history, Russia was a predominately Byzantine society where aristocrats donned thick robes and long beards, while during the Renaissance Western European society made striking advances in technology and philosophy. When Peter the Great united Russia with the West, much, although not all, of the old Muscovite culture was forcibly eradicated and the aristocracy became enchanted with Western culture and language. The West, however, was less charmed by the copycat nation claiming inclusion in Western culture. While Russia was connected to the West and received countless societal imports such as architecture, literature, and the French language, it was never able to become a completely Western society because many of its powerful Eastern cultural features were embedded into everyday Russian life. Although it is a developed nation and in many ways “Western,” Russia today still retains cultural quarks attributed to its Eastern history. Russia is neither a Western nor an Eastern nation. Its national identity cannot be either of these two contradictory choices, but rather something else entirely. Russia’s history and culture is deeply connected to both sides of the spectrum. By defying classification Russian culture is unique. It is hard to imagine one souvenir, therefore, able to capture the entirety of society and its values. The matreshka doll, however, achieves the encapsulation of Western and Eastern Nordt 6 cultures by being a medley of the two. Although not a uniquely Russian idea, this adapted art form presents many aspects of Russian culture. The doll displays the Russian historical practice of appropriating art forms from other nations, such as architecture and cuisine. The doll also presents intricate social practices within Russian culture; namely family values. Returning to my earlier point about the lack of a father figure in the original matreshka doll, I argue that this absence raises an important question about how the souvenir reflects Russian values, specifically family values. The famous set depicts many women ranging in age and size. However, only one male is portrayed: a young brother character. It is unlikely that the two craftsmen were promoting feminism in 1890 when they chose not to include a patriarch in the family depiction. More probably, this was an accidental projection of conservative family values, suggesting that the men were too occupied with masculine objectives to pose for the artist. Nevertheless, this feature still exists today as most traditional dolls include only women, perhaps with what is meant to be wide birthing hips. The etymology of the name asserts its association with maternity and reproduction. The Nordt 7 shape of the doll further parallels the standards of the “ideal Russian woman” with emphasis on “a small but solid core” (Buckley 80). Where are the men, the patriarchs, to take advantage of this celebration of female fertility? Male figurines seem reserved for comical or contemporary depictions of Soviet leaders, politicians, athletes, or other famous individuals. The traditional dolls, intended to display Russian culture, are of nameless peasant women in traditional costume. Thus, the designs of the dolls separate men from women, yet the doll originally was meant to show a united family. The modern matreshka doll fails to relate an important aspect of ideal Russian life, opting instead to display the reality of gender segregation. Current Russian politics and national attitudes suggest a socially conservative culture. In fact, scholars now argue that popular sentiment is moving even farther to the right, specifically in regards to gender rights. In a recent survey of five hundred Russians, “79 percent of men and 67 percent of women believe the woman's role in society lies in her domestic responsibilities toward her husband and children” (Dumancic 1). Work outside of the home tends to be reserved for heterosexual men in Russian society. In the ideal family, women are still expected to Nordt 8 remain at home, despite the modern ideas of other nations who are pushing for an increase of women in the workplace and an increasing amount of women working in large urban centers. The matreshka doll, therefore, accurately represents as aspect of traditional Russian culture as well as the cross-­‐cultural influences paramount to the nation’s identity. Although no word or object can fully encompass all of Russia, the matreshka doll does in fact come close, although for non-­‐traditional reasons. Meant to reflect the beauty of Russian art and culture, the doll accurately displays the appropriation of foreign art forms and feminine repression intrinsic to Russian history. It does so, however, in such a truly artful way as to properly glorify the culture, with all of its paradoxes, quarks, and intricacies. The matreshka encapsulates the confusion behind historic identity as well as modern societal pressures. As one of the most recognized Russian souvenirs, it can easily be purchased at practically any shop on Nevskii Prospekt and beyond. Nordt 9 Works Cited Antsiferov, Nikolai. Petersburg in Reality and Myth, 1924. Print. Arutyunov, S. “Three nesting dolls.” Three nesting dolls. Around the World, July 1980. Web. 30 Aug. 2015. Bely, Andrei. Petersburg. Bloomington: Indiana UP, 1978. Print. Billington, James H. "Conclusion." Russia in Search of Itself. Washington, D.C.: Woodrow Wilson Center, 2004. 148-­‐49. Print. Buckley, Mary. Post-­‐Soviet Women: From the Baltic to Central Asia. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1997. Print. Dumancic, Marko. "Russia's Conservative 'Family Values' Are a Sham." The Moscow Times. N.p., 7 Sept. 2014. Web. 08 Sept. 2015. Emmerson, Charles. PublicAffairs. N.p.: n.p., n.d. 1913: In Search of the World Before the Great War. 7 May 2013. Web. 31 Aug. 2015. Holmes, Gillian S. "Matreshka Doll." Encyclopedia.com. High Beam Research, 01 Jan. 2001. Web. 08 Sept. 2015. Lantsova, Zinaida Dmitrievna. Personal interview. June 2015. Matreshka Dolls Russian Politicians. Digital image. BlogGang.com. N.p., n.d. Web. 08 Sept. 2015. "Moscow Office | Burgess." Moscow Office | Burgess. N.p., n.d. Web. 08 Sept. 2015. Tea Collection. "A History of Nesting Dolls." Studio T Blog. N.p., 30 Aug. 2010. Web. 30 Aug. 2015.