With the war between the nations ongoing since 2014, the recent escalations in Russia’s invasion of Ukraine have become topical. However, Russia’s invasion is not only limited to the subject of land but also seeks to dominate the subject of Ukrainian culture and arts.
Pursuing imperialist ideals and attempting to revert to the geography of the Soviet period, Russia launched a full-scale invasion of Ukraine on February 24, 2022. Yet the battle Ukrainians fight is not for their land alone. Burying the Ukrainian origins and inspiration behind their works, Russia has promoted many iconic figures as their own. The list of such artists is lengthy, but a particularly discernable one is the author Mykola Hohol (1809–52) – famously and internationally known as Nikolai Gogol.
Does Crime and Punishment sound familiar? How about The Metamorphosis? Fyodor Dostoyevsky and Franz Kafka are only two of many authors whose works and writing styles have been influenced by and attributed to Mykola Hohol. French author and literary critic Eugène-Melchior de Vogüé once even said “we all came out of Gogol’s Overcoat”, referencing one of Hohol’s most recognised works.
Needless to say, Mykola Hohol is a dignified body in the literary sphere. Which makes it all the more important that his origin as a Ukrainian is recognised. Hohol was born and raised in central Ukraine, not venturing out and into Saint Petersburg until the age of nineteen. We commonly identify artists by the location of birth and ancestry, not by language or later abodes.
Do we not still refer to Samuel Beckett, the author of Waiting for Godot, as an Irish novelist despite his work being written in French? And what about Eva Hoffman, who wrote about her experiences as a Polish person in Lost In Translation while using the English language? It removes a significant amount of context and identity to ignore the place of origin of an artist, diminishing the complexity of their art itself.
Although Hohol wrote in Russian, the influence of his place of origin is undeniable. Ukrainian settings, folklore, history and mentality are abundant in his work; ignoring his Ukrainian roots is ignoring the essence and subtle nuances within his art. One conspicuous example would be his short story collection, Evenings on a Farm Near Dikanka (1830). He deliberately sets this work in Ukraine and explores village customs, dress, superstitions and ideas unique to this context. Hohol’s birthplace – as with all artists – significantly contributes to his lived experiences and ideas that manifest into the art he created.
It is crucial to also recognise the reasons that may have contributed to Hohol’s decision to write in Russian. In the early 19th century, the Ukrainian language was often reduced to being an “illegitimate” language or even viewed as a kind of Russian dialect. There were frequent attempts from the authorities at the time – the Russian Tsars – to censor and refuse to publish works that were written in Ukrainian, all in an attempt to establish one national language. So, Hohol and other Ukrainian authors were forced to make the difficult political decision between having their work reach an international audience or writing in Ukrainian.
It can be argued that Hohol also identified as Russian – as well as Ukrainian – for similar reasons. Partaking in and becoming a subject of discussion in Russian high society, Hohol and his literature were often accused of being too devoted to Ukraine and not fond enough of Russia. In 1844, he was asked: “In your soul, are you a Russian or a Ukrainian?”.
Initially, he responded defensively and interpreted the question to be an attack on his character and morals. This response is very telling of the political climate of the time, where Ukrainian links were viewed as an imperfection in Russian identity and, by extension, a moral issue. Two months later he re-addresses this by writing that he “would grant primacy neither to a Little Russian [Ukrainian] over a Russian nor to a Russian over a Little Russian. Both natures are generously endowed by God”. Hohol embraces these two identities here, yet his struggle between celebrating his Ukrainian identity and grappling with the political repercussions of it is very clear. Considering the conventions at the time, Hohol likely felt the need to conform to Russian identity, yet he still did not reject his identity as Ukrainian despite this.
So, why and how does Russia neglect the significance of Hohol and other iconic artists as Ukrainian? As mentioned previously, Russia’s imperialist and nationalist ideals seek to assimilate Ukraine and its culture into the Russian nation. Russia describes Hohol as a Russian author, and his place of origin – Ukraine – is often mentioned indirectly or in passing, if at all. In school curriculums and lesson plans accessible online, Hohol is directly described as a Russian author – even claimed as a “glorious son of Russia” – and Ukraine is occasionally referred to as a “distant” inspiration for parts of his work. Even the Russian Encyclopedia classifies Mykola Hohol as Russian, and Ukraine is only mentioned in relation to Hohol’s general interest in historicism, stating that his “history studies went in parallel with the development of artistic and historical ideas”.
While there are infrequent acknowledgements of his Ukrainian origin, it is often addressed using the term “Little Russian” rather than Ukrainian, creating a limited distinction between the two countries and continuously keeping Russia at the forefront when discussing the author. And even in the cases where his birthplace is mentioned in this way, there are still claims of Russia being his “homeland”. While a few more recent Russian sources do delve into the significance of his Ukrainian identity more deeply, googling “Is Nikolai Gogol Russian or Ukrainian” in Russian still produces quite a significant number of results that go so far as to ridicule the idea of his Ukrainian status.
On a broader scale, however, Russia protests the Ukrainian identity of cultural figures by utilising this method of intentional ignorance and also that of physical force. Russia has not shied away from destroying and removing historically significant works of art, especially not since their invasion in 2022. UNESCO has verified that between February 2022 and June 2023, Russia has damaged 112 religious sites, 22 museums, 94 buildings of historical and artistic interest, 19 monuments, 12 libraries and 1 archive. The attack on Ukrainian culture does not end there, as Russian troops are estimated to have stolen 2000 Ukrainian artworks already by May 2022. And where they can’t carry away the work, there is still an attempt. For example, Russian forces were unable to dismount the monument to the Ukrainian poet Taras Shevchenko in December 2022, so instead left a plaque rebranding him as a Russian poet. Both through deliberate ignorance and physical force, Russia has continuously been stealing and relabelling Ukrainian artists and culture.
Mykola Hohol is just one Ukrainian artist from a pool of names that have been promoted as Russian. Erasing the origins of these individuals, a fundamental part of their identity, is not only a political move but an active disregard of the quality and context of their work. Ukraine is not just fighting a harrowing war for land but for its culture.