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Remediating Protest, Emma Larson

Parody, Satire, and Political Humor: Bakhtinian Doubles Through Skaz

Mikhail Bakhtin in “From the Prehistory of Novelistic Discourse” explains that “there never was a single strictly straightforward genre, no single type of direct discourse…that did not have its own parodying and travestying double” (Bakhtin, 53). Perhaps presenting an intertextual formulation of his famous theory of polyphony, Bakhtin uses examples from throughout the history of literature to prove that even the most serious of discourses have a humorous underside that “force[s] men to experience beneath these categories [of straightforward genres, language, styles, and voices] a different and contradictory reality” (Bakhtin, 59). Bakhtin, in other words, is concerned with parody and demonstrates throughout his text that it, too, has a tradition, canon, and form that relies upon the “doubling” inherent in acts of mimicry.

In the Soviet Union, as cultural elites experimented with how satire could be used to both subvert and entrench the ideology and lifestyles of the bourgeoning state, parody became an irreplaceable aspect of the humor leveled against the new reality of communism. A clear example of this parodic satire can be found in the performance of Arkady Raikin in The Pumps and the Wheels. Delivering lines that express no more than that which a mid-level rabotnik would say on any given day, (“Yes, I called. Read this! When do we ship it? When do we do it? You realize the importance of this order?”), Raikin uses his performance to make fun of the Soviet Union’s bureaucratic inefficiencies. Though the words that Raikin says may be benign, his exaggerated actions, inordinate delivery, and unwavering bluntness, allow him to express the absurdity of the Soviet Union’s centrally planned economy. By mimicking the words and the linguistic system of that which he satirizes, Raikin brings to light a Bakhtinian double and sharply parodies the inefficiencies of the Soviet economic system writ large.

During such performances, Raikin demonstrates one of the traditions that became institutionalized in the Soviet parodic milieu in the 1920s and early 1930s: the art of skaz. Though more broadly concerned with how dialect, slang, and speech patterns are used to take on the persona of a particular character in traditional Russian oral narratives, skaz was widely used by Soviet humorists as a means through which to satirize the realities of Soviet life. By encouraging creators to mimic and make fun of a wide range of characters who highlight different absurdities of daily existence in the Soviet Union, skaz acts as a means through which to bring to light the doubling with which Bakhtin is concerned. In The Pumps and the Wheels, for example, Raikin provides an example of skaz by adopting the character of a Soviet bureaucrat and using his performance to elucidate a Bakhtinian double that pokes fun at the Soviet bureaucratic system.

Mikhail Zoshchenko’s short stories provide another example of the effectiveness wielded by skaz. In “The Galosh,” for example, Zoshchenko adopts the character of a petite bourgeoise who lives in rapture at the effectiveness of the Soviet state. “Those people, I thought, really know what work is! In other places, would they have really spent so much time on my galosh?” (Zoshchenko, 126). By mimicking the language of a malenki chelovek, Zoshchenko produces a Bakhtinian double that unwittingly makes fun of the object of his adoration. After all, the character holds on to “how marvelously our official machinery works” even after readers learn that in the process of finding his first galosh, he loses his second (Zoshchenko, 126).

It is interesting to note that skaz may have been such a popular form of satire in the Soviet Union because of the protections it provided its authors. Indeed, because skaz creators rely on state-sanctioned language and characters who often represent the state, nothing they write down can be described as explicitly oppositional or subversive. Raikin, for example, uses language that would have been found in workplaces throughout the Soviet Union and Zoshchenko creates characters who do little more than try to adapt to the new Soviet reality that surrounds them. Yet, close readings of works by both creators make clear that satire was their aim and their comrades stuck in the absurdity alongside them their audience.

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It is fascinating to read such a so-called thought-provoking exploration of the intersection between literature, humor, and political critique in the context of the Soviet Union. In my opinion, Emma offers a nuanced understanding of how humor served as a vehicle for social commentary and resistance during a time of political repression. One aspect that stands out is the concept of skaz as a form of satire that allowed creators to navigate the constraints of Soviet censorship. By adopting the state-sanctioned language and characters, authors and performers could subtly critique the absurdities of Soviet life without risking direct opposition to the regime. It tells us artists' ingenuity in using humor as a means of resistance within a repressive political environment. Furthermore, the analysis of works by Arkady Raikin and Mikhail Zoshchenko demonstrates the subversive power of humor in challenging authoritarianism. As Emma mentions in her blog post, through exaggerated performances and linguistic mimicry, these artists were able to expose the contradictions and ironies of Soviet society, providing both entertainment and social commentary to their audiences. Generally, the blog post provides valuable insights into the role of literature and humor in confronting oppressive regimes and highlighting the complexities of political critique in challenging times. It prompts readers to consider the enduring relevance of satire as a tool for social change and resistance in contemporary society.
Contents of this reply:
1. Parody, Satire, and Political Humor: Bakhtinian Doubles Through Skaz Mikhail Bakhtin in “From the Prehistory of Novelistic Discourse” explains that “there never was a single strictly straightforward genre, no single type of direct discourse…that did not have its own parodying and travestying double” (Bakhtin, 53). Perhaps presenting an intertextual formulation of his famous theory of polyphony, Bakhtin uses examples from throughout the history of literature to prove that even the most serious of discourses have a humorous underside that “force[s] men to experience beneath these categories [of straightforward genres, language, styles, and voices] a different and contradictory reality” (Bakhtin, 59). Bakhtin, in other words, is concerned with parody and demonstrates throughout his text that it, too, has a tradition, canon, and form that relies upon the “doubling” inherent in acts of mimicry.
  
  In the Soviet Union, as cultural elites experimented with how satire could be used to both subvert and entrench the ideology and lifestyles of the bourgeoning state, parody became an irreplaceable aspect of the humor leveled against the new reality of communism. A clear example of this parodic satire can be found in the performance of Arkady Raikin in The Pumps and the Wheels. Delivering lines that express no more than that which a mid-level rabotnik would say on any given day, (“Yes, I called. Read this! When do we ship it? When do we do it? You realize the importance of this order?”), Raikin uses his performance to make fun of the Soviet Union’s bureaucratic inefficiencies. Though the words that Raikin says may be benign, his exaggerated actions, inordinate delivery, and unwavering bluntness, allow him to express the absurdity of the Soviet Union’s centrally planned economy. By mimicking the words and the linguistic system of that which he satirizes, Raikin brings to light a Bakhtinian double and sharply parodies the inefficiencies of the Soviet economic system writ large.
  
  During such performances, Raikin demonstrates one of the traditions that became institutionalized in the Soviet parodic milieu in the 1920s and early 1930s: the art of skaz. Though more broadly concerned with how dialect, slang, and speech patterns are used to take on the persona of a particular character in traditional Russian oral narratives, skaz was widely used by Soviet humorists as a means through which to satirize the realities of Soviet life. By encouraging creators to mimic and make fun of a wide range of characters who highlight different absurdities of daily existence in the Soviet Union, skaz acts as a means through which to bring to light the doubling with which Bakhtin is concerned. In The Pumps and the Wheels, for example, Raikin provides an example of skaz by adopting the character of a Soviet bureaucrat and using his performance to elucidate a Bakhtinian double that pokes fun at the Soviet bureaucratic system.
  
  Mikhail Zoshchenko’s short stories provide another example of the effectiveness wielded by skaz. In “The Galosh,” for example, Zoshchenko adopts the character of a petite bourgeoise who lives in rapture at the effectiveness of the Soviet state. “Those people, I thought, really know what work is! In other places, would they have really spent so much time on my galosh?” (Zoshchenko, 126). By mimicking the language of a malenki chelovek, Zoshchenko produces a Bakhtinian double that unwittingly makes fun of the object of his adoration. After all, the character holds on to “how marvelously our official machinery works” even after readers learn that in the process of finding his first galosh, he loses his second (Zoshchenko, 126).
  
  It is interesting to note that skaz may have been such a popular form of satire in the Soviet Union because of the protections it provided its authors. Indeed, because skaz creators rely on state-sanctioned language and characters who often represent the state, nothing they write down can be described as explicitly oppositional or subversive. Raikin, for example, uses language that would have been found in workplaces throughout the Soviet Union and Zoshchenko creates characters who do little more than try to adapt to the new Soviet reality that surrounds them. Yet, close readings of works by both creators make clear that satire was their aim and their comrades stuck in the absurdity alongside them their audience.
It is fascinating to read such a so-called thought-provoking exploration of the intersection between literature, humor, and political critique in the context of the Soviet Union. In my opinion, Emma offers a nuanced understanding of how humor served as a vehicle for social commentary and resistance during a time of political repression. One aspect that stands out is the concept of skaz as a form of satire that allowed creators to navigate the constraints of Soviet censorship. By adopting the state-sanctioned language and characters, authors and performers could subtly critique the absurdities of Soviet life without risking direct opposition to the regime. It tells us artists' ingenuity in using humor as a means of resistance within a repressive political environment. Furthermore, the analysis of works by Arkady Raikin and Mikhail Zoshchenko demonstrates the subversive power of humor in challenging authoritarianism. As Emma mentions in her blog post, through exaggerated performances and linguistic mimicry, these artists were able to expose the contradictions and ironies of Soviet society, providing both entertainment and social commentary to their audiences. Generally, the blog post provides valuable insights into the role of literature and humor in confronting oppressive regimes and highlighting the complexities of political critique in challenging times. It prompts readers to consider the enduring relevance of satire as a tool for social change and resistance in contemporary society.
Contents of this reply:
1. Parody, Satire, and Political Humor: Bakhtinian Doubles Through Skaz Mikhail Bakhtin in “From the Prehistory of Novelistic Discourse” explains that “there never was a single strictly straightforward genre, no single type of direct discourse…that did not have its own parodying and travestying double” (Bakhtin, 53). Perhaps presenting an intertextual formulation of his famous theory of polyphony, Bakhtin uses examples from throughout the history of literature to prove that even the most serious of discourses have a humorous underside that “force[s] men to experience beneath these categories [of straightforward genres, language, styles, and voices] a different and contradictory reality” (Bakhtin, 59). Bakhtin, in other words, is concerned with parody and demonstrates throughout his text that it, too, has a tradition, canon, and form that relies upon the “doubling” inherent in acts of mimicry.
  
  In the Soviet Union, as cultural elites experimented with how satire could be used to both subvert and entrench the ideology and lifestyles of the bourgeoning state, parody became an irreplaceable aspect of the humor leveled against the new reality of communism. A clear example of this parodic satire can be found in the performance of Arkady Raikin in The Pumps and the Wheels. Delivering lines that express no more than that which a mid-level rabotnik would say on any given day, (“Yes, I called. Read this! When do we ship it? When do we do it? You realize the importance of this order?”), Raikin uses his performance to make fun of the Soviet Union’s bureaucratic inefficiencies. Though the words that Raikin says may be benign, his exaggerated actions, inordinate delivery, and unwavering bluntness, allow him to express the absurdity of the Soviet Union’s centrally planned economy. By mimicking the words and the linguistic system of that which he satirizes, Raikin brings to light a Bakhtinian double and sharply parodies the inefficiencies of the Soviet economic system writ large.
  
  During such performances, Raikin demonstrates one of the traditions that became institutionalized in the Soviet parodic milieu in the 1920s and early 1930s: the art of skaz. Though more broadly concerned with how dialect, slang, and speech patterns are used to take on the persona of a particular character in traditional Russian oral narratives, skaz was widely used by Soviet humorists as a means through which to satirize the realities of Soviet life. By encouraging creators to mimic and make fun of a wide range of characters who highlight different absurdities of daily existence in the Soviet Union, skaz acts as a means through which to bring to light the doubling with which Bakhtin is concerned. In The Pumps and the Wheels, for example, Raikin provides an example of skaz by adopting the character of a Soviet bureaucrat and using his performance to elucidate a Bakhtinian double that pokes fun at the Soviet bureaucratic system.
  
  Mikhail Zoshchenko’s short stories provide another example of the effectiveness wielded by skaz. In “The Galosh,” for example, Zoshchenko adopts the character of a petite bourgeoise who lives in rapture at the effectiveness of the Soviet state. “Those people, I thought, really know what work is! In other places, would they have really spent so much time on my galosh?” (Zoshchenko, 126). By mimicking the language of a malenki chelovek, Zoshchenko produces a Bakhtinian double that unwittingly makes fun of the object of his adoration. After all, the character holds on to “how marvelously our official machinery works” even after readers learn that in the process of finding his first galosh, he loses his second (Zoshchenko, 126).
  
  It is interesting to note that skaz may have been such a popular form of satire in the Soviet Union because of the protections it provided its authors. Indeed, because skaz creators rely on state-sanctioned language and characters who often represent the state, nothing they write down can be described as explicitly oppositional or subversive. Raikin, for example, uses language that would have been found in workplaces throughout the Soviet Union and Zoshchenko creates characters who do little more than try to adapt to the new Soviet reality that surrounds them. Yet, close readings of works by both creators make clear that satire was their aim and their comrades stuck in the absurdity alongside them their audience.
I really enjoyed your application of Bakhtinian theory to Zoshchenko's work! Especially compelling to me is the connection you draw between Bakhtin's conception of "two realities"—one of serious political discourse, the other its (my word, not his; is this, then, meta-silliness?) underbelly—and сказ. Despite its clearly being a form of lexical and literary mimicry, I hadn't considered situating сказ on the axis of parody in the Bakhtinian sense prior to reading your post. In that vein, your description of the real-world political implications of, or justification for, сказ of course evoked the relevant discussion we held in class. You gesture very effectively to Zoshchenko's subtle (at least per censors' guidelines) critique and сказ's function as both a vehicle for critique and a humorous guise—one that, whilst tempering, does not defang his stories. Thank you for this insightful analysis :) it was a joy to read and comment on!
Contents of this reply:
1. Parody, Satire, and Political Humor: Bakhtinian Doubles Through Skaz Mikhail Bakhtin in “From the Prehistory of Novelistic Discourse” explains that “there never was a single strictly straightforward genre, no single type of direct discourse…that did not have its own parodying and travestying double” (Bakhtin, 53). Perhaps presenting an intertextual formulation of his famous theory of polyphony, Bakhtin uses examples from throughout the history of literature to prove that even the most serious of discourses have a humorous underside that “force[s] men to experience beneath these categories [of straightforward genres, language, styles, and voices] a different and contradictory reality” (Bakhtin, 59). Bakhtin, in other words, is concerned with parody and demonstrates throughout his text that it, too, has a tradition, canon, and form that relies upon the “doubling” inherent in acts of mimicry.
  
  In the Soviet Union, as cultural elites experimented with how satire could be used to both subvert and entrench the ideology and lifestyles of the bourgeoning state, parody became an irreplaceable aspect of the humor leveled against the new reality of communism. A clear example of this parodic satire can be found in the performance of Arkady Raikin in The Pumps and the Wheels. Delivering lines that express no more than that which a mid-level rabotnik would say on any given day, (“Yes, I called. Read this! When do we ship it? When do we do it? You realize the importance of this order?”), Raikin uses his performance to make fun of the Soviet Union’s bureaucratic inefficiencies. Though the words that Raikin says may be benign, his exaggerated actions, inordinate delivery, and unwavering bluntness, allow him to express the absurdity of the Soviet Union’s centrally planned economy. By mimicking the words and the linguistic system of that which he satirizes, Raikin brings to light a Bakhtinian double and sharply parodies the inefficiencies of the Soviet economic system writ large.
  
  During such performances, Raikin demonstrates one of the traditions that became institutionalized in the Soviet parodic milieu in the 1920s and early 1930s: the art of skaz. Though more broadly concerned with how dialect, slang, and speech patterns are used to take on the persona of a particular character in traditional Russian oral narratives, skaz was widely used by Soviet humorists as a means through which to satirize the realities of Soviet life. By encouraging creators to mimic and make fun of a wide range of characters who highlight different absurdities of daily existence in the Soviet Union, skaz acts as a means through which to bring to light the doubling with which Bakhtin is concerned. In The Pumps and the Wheels, for example, Raikin provides an example of skaz by adopting the character of a Soviet bureaucrat and using his performance to elucidate a Bakhtinian double that pokes fun at the Soviet bureaucratic system.
  
  Mikhail Zoshchenko’s short stories provide another example of the effectiveness wielded by skaz. In “The Galosh,” for example, Zoshchenko adopts the character of a petite bourgeoise who lives in rapture at the effectiveness of the Soviet state. “Those people, I thought, really know what work is! In other places, would they have really spent so much time on my galosh?” (Zoshchenko, 126). By mimicking the language of a malenki chelovek, Zoshchenko produces a Bakhtinian double that unwittingly makes fun of the object of his adoration. After all, the character holds on to “how marvelously our official machinery works” even after readers learn that in the process of finding his first galosh, he loses his second (Zoshchenko, 126).
  
  It is interesting to note that skaz may have been such a popular form of satire in the Soviet Union because of the protections it provided its authors. Indeed, because skaz creators rely on state-sanctioned language and characters who often represent the state, nothing they write down can be described as explicitly oppositional or subversive. Raikin, for example, uses language that would have been found in workplaces throughout the Soviet Union and Zoshchenko creates characters who do little more than try to adapt to the new Soviet reality that surrounds them. Yet, close readings of works by both creators make clear that satire was their aim and their comrades stuck in the absurdity alongside them their audience.

This page references:

The Pumps and The Wheels