What do a censored Spanish classic, a mathematics textbook from Tsarist Russia, and the first national education textbook from Poland have in common? They are all part of the British Library’s European Collections, spanning from antiquity to 1800. These fascinating books do more than preserve history – they provide valuable insights into the intellectual, political, and cultural dynamics of their era, offering opportunities for research and discovery.

As part of the Doctoral Open Day on 31 January, we are showcasing a selection of remarkable books. Each tells a unique story – of censorship, of scientific progress, of the development of national identity. Here, we explore some of the fascinating books you may encounter during the Doctoral Open Day.

Poland: Enlightening the Nation

In 1773, the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth established the Commission of National Education (Komisja Edukacji Narodowej, KEN), the first state-run educational authority in the world. Its goal was to create a modern, secular education system that was accessible to all social classes, moving away from the traditional church-dominated schooling.

Krzysztof Kluk 1739-1796, Paweł Czenpiński, 1755-1793, Botanika dla szkół narodowych, etc. (Dzieło, ... podług Prospektu ... Pawła Czenpinskiego, ... przez ... Krzysztofa Kluka ... napisane; od Towarzystwa do Xiąg Elementarnych roztrząśnione, etc.)., w Warszawie 1785 (Warszawa, 1785) 988.d.29.

A prime example of KEN’s publishing efforts is Botanika dla szkół narodowych (‘Botany for National Schools,’ 1785) by Krzysztof Kluk and Paweł Czenpiński. This textbook was designed to teach practical botany, bringing Enlightenment ideas into the classroom. The book was one of many created by KEN’s Society for Elementary Books, which commissioned mathematics, science, and literature textbooks to standardize education across Poland.

Russia: The First Mathematics Textbook

The first Russian textbook on mathematics by Leonty Magnitsky, Arifmetika (‘Arithmetics’), was written in the early Slavonic language and published in 1703. Its first edition of 2,400 copies was extraordinarily large for that time and served as the primary mathematics text for instruction in Russia until the mid-18th century. The book was in effect an encyclopaedia of the natural sciences of its day. It emphasized the practical applications of mathematics, demonstrating how it could be used in various real-life situations, from laying a brick wall to calculating loan interest. The origins of the manual lie in Peter the Great's establishment of the School of Navigation in Moscow, and the subsequent appointment of Magnitsky at the school's helm.

Leonty Filippovich Magnitsky, Arifmetika (Moskva, 1703) 8531.f.16

Hungary: The First Gold-Painted Book

This is the second work published about Hungarian history, although published outside the country. It tells the story of the Magyars from the earliest times to the 1480s and is illustrated with lavish hand-coloured woodcuts, that have retained their brilliance through the centuries. This Augsburg edition, printed on vellum, is the very first printed book in history known for using gold paint.

Johannes Thuróczy, Chronica Hungarorum (Augsburg, 1488) IB.6663

Romania: A Scholar-Prince’s Masterpiece

Among our most treasured Romanian books is Divanul sau gâlceava înţeleptului cu lumea (‘The Wise Man’s Parley with the World’, 1698), written by Dimitrie Cantemir, a scholar, philosopher, and Prince of Moldavia.

Printed in both Romanian Cyrillic and Greek, this was the first secular book published in Romanian. It discusses morality, philosophy, and the human condition, presenting a dialogue between reason and worldly desires.

The copy comes from the collection of Frederick North, Fifth Earl of Guilford, a noted philhellene and collector of early printed Romanian books. The front cover is in its original binding, made of red goatskin over pasteboard. It features a panel design showcasing the coat of arms of Dimitrie Cantemir, with corner tools incorporating floral motifs and bird designs.

Dimitrie Cantemir, Divanul sau gâlceava înţeleptului cu lumea (Iaşi, 1698) C.118.g.2.

Italy: The Beauty of St Mark’s Basilica

A magnificent and exhaustive work documenting the Basilica of St Mark in Venice, undertaken with the support of John Ruskin, following disputed restoration work to the Basilica's south facade in 1865-75. One of 16 volumes, this volume contains 69 hand-coloured engraved plates that painstakingly represent every detail of the floor of the Basilica. Ferdinando Ongania was a publisher and editor who worked with John Ruskin on a project to document the Basilica of St. Mark in Venice. Ongania also ran an antiquarian bookshop in St. Mark's Square and supplied Ruskin with books.

Ferdinando Ongania, La Basilica di San Marco in Venezia. Dettagli del pavimento ed ornamenti in mosaico della Basilica di San Marco in Venezia (Venezia, 1881)  Tab.1282.a./ Tab.1283.a.3.

Spain: Censorship and Forbidden Texts

Censorship was an everyday reality in Habsburg Spain, where the Inquisition closely monitored books. Even seemingly harmless works like Don Quixote were subject to scrutiny.

Our copy of the 1650 edition El Parnasso Español, y Musas Castellanas de D. Francisco de Quevedo Villegas was censored according to the Index of 1707, with passages inked out due to their “disrespectful references to the clergy”. Interestingly, Spanish censors had strict rules against religious criticism but showed little concern for nudity or crude humour.

Lost Books: Replacing What Was Destroyed

During World War II, a German bombing raid on the British Museum (where the British Library was then housed) destroyed many books. One of these was Zeeusche spectator over de boedel en het testament van capitein Willem Credo (‘The Zeeland Spectator on the Estate and Will of Captain Willem Credo’, 1734).

After the war, the British Library painstakingly reconstructed lists of lost books, marking them with a ‘D’ for ‘Destroyed’. Now, decades later, we have finally been able to replace this book and restore it to our collections, removing it from the list of war losses.

Gerard Bacot, Zeeusche spectator over de boedel en het testament van capitein Willem Credo onder toezigt van Gerard Bacot Predikant te Koudekerk en syn vrou Paulina Credo nevens een Journaal of DAg-Lyst van een bedroefde reis naa het vermakelyk Alphen (Amsterdam, 1734)

Why These Collections Matter

These books are not only historical artifacts – they are invaluable resources for research. By preserving both original texts and modern scholarship, the British Library provides a gateway to exploring the past. Whether you’re investigating the development of education, scientific advancements, or literary censorship, our European Collections offer a wealth of material to uncover.

If you’d like to explore these fascinating books and more, visit the British Library and discover Europe’s intellectual heritage, from antiquity to 1800! And if you are a new doctoral student whose research interest is more contemporary, why not join us for our session on Global Languages, Cultures and Societies on 14 February.

Etty Hillesum in 1939 (Image from Wikimedia Commons)

This year to mark Holocaust Memorial Day we have been looking at diaries and other autobiographical documents. As my colleague Olga Topol writes in her blog post, “The diaries of these individuals are not merely archival records; they are powerful reminders of the human capacity for resilience and creativity in the face of adversity.”

One remarkable example of that resilience are the diaries written by Etty Hillesum in Amsterdam. She acknowledges the horrors of the Second World War and the Holocaust, but manages to rise above them and does not let the horror dominate her writings. She records the growing evidence of “the interrupted life” around her. She writes it all down, starting on 9 March 1941 and ending on 10 October 1942 with the wish “One should like to be a balm on many wounds.”

She writes very openly about love, sexuality, about her struggle to find God, to root out hatred, including hate towards Germans. More than anything else she wants to serve others. She gets a job at the Jewish Council helping Jewish citizens navigate the laws imposed on them by the German authorities. When the deportations of Jews to the Westerbork transit camp started, she volunteered to accompany them.

Jewish citizens of Amsterdam obey the order they received in the post to come to the Olympiaplein in Amsterdam South to be transported to Westerbork. Image from an edition of Het Verstoorde Leven: Dagboek van Etty Hillesum, 1941-1943 (Bussum, 1983) Blog post author's own copy

Jewish people were told they were going to work in Germany, so many went. Those who didn’t were either taken from their homes or had to go in hiding. Many people did not have the means to hide, and Etty felt she could not abandon them, so she voluntarily went to Westerbork, out of solidarity.

Aerial photo of Westerbork Transit Camp, Drenthe, Netherlands taken in March 1945 (Image from Wikimedia Commons)

At Westerbork she worked as a social worker, which allowed her to travel many times between the camp and Amsterdam. She had ample opportunity to go into hiding to save herself, but she refused to do so. Inevitably, on 7 September 1943, Etty and her family, who had arrived in Westerbork a while earlier, were put on a transport to Auschwitz. One of Etty’s friends who saw her off writes in a letter to friends that Etty was “her normal cheerful self, having a word of encouragement and kindness for all she met”. Etty wrote a postcard to another friend and threw it out of the train. It was found by farmers and posted. It says that “they had left the camp singing”. As soon as they arrived in Auschwitz on 10 September, her parents were sent to the gas chambers. On 30 November the Red Cross reported Etty’s death. Her brother Mischa died on 31 March 1944, and her other brother Jaap died on his way back to the Netherlands after having been liberated from Bergen-Belsen.

Before Etty went to Westerbork she gave her diaries to her friend Maria Tuinzing, who passed them on to a writer, Klaas Smelik. He and his daughter Johanna, who transcribed the diaries, started looking for a publisher for them in 1947. No-one wanted to publish them; they were considered “too philosophical”.

It was only in 1981 that the diaries were published in Dutch as Het verstoorde leven (An Interrupted Life). Since then, interest in and research into Etty Hillesum and her work have only grown. There are conferences, books and two museums; one in her birth town of Middelburg which opened in 2020 and one in Deventer. Translations of the diaries into French, Italian, English, German, Danish and Finnish followed.

Etty Hillesum’s diaries with a page of her handwriting. Reproduced in Judith Koelemeijer, Etty Hillesum: het verhaal van haar leven (Amsterdam, 2022) YF.2023.a.27.

Why not let the diaries speak for themselves?

The sky is full of birds, the purple lupins stand up so regally and peacefully, two little old women have sat down on the box for a chat, the sun is shining on my face — and right before our eyes, mass murder. The whole thing is simply beyond comprehension. (8 June 1943)

And if there were only one good German, then he would be worthy of protection against the whole barbaric gang and because of that one good German one should not pour one’s hatred onto a whole people. (15 March 1941)

And if God does not help me to go on, then I shall have to help God. — The surface of the earth is gradually turning into one great prison camp, and soon there will be nobody left outside. … I don’t fool myself about the real state of affairs, and I’ve even dropped the pretence that I’m out to help others. I shall merely try to help God as best I can, and if I succeed in doing that, then I shall be of use to others as well. But I mustn't have heroic illusions about that either. (11 June 1942)

Despite everything, life is full of beauty and meaning.

Marja Kingma, Curator Germanic Language Collections, specialist Dutch.

References/further reading:

Etty Hillesum, Het verstoorde leven: Dagboek van Etty Hillesum, 1941-1943, 18e druik (Amsterdam, 1986) YA.1988.a.1992 (English Translation by Arnold J. Pomerans, An Interrupted Life: the Diaries and Letters of Etty Hillesum 1941-43 (London, 1999) YC.2004.a.8709.

Etty Hillesum, Drie brieven van den kunstschilder Johannes Baptiste van der Pluym (1843-1912): met twee reproducties, uitgegeven en van een toelichting voorzien door A.C.G. Botterman-v.d. Pluym. (Apeldoorn, 1917 [i.e. Haarlem, 1943]) Cup.406.b.78. (Letters written to David Koning from Westerbork in 1943 and published clandestinely the same year.)

Philippe Noble, ‘De dagboeken en brieven van Etty Hillesum in Franse vertaling: Het dubbele filter’ In: Filter: tijdschrift over vertalen, Vol. 9, nr 3 (2002) pp. 37-48. YF.2007.a.229

Oord, Gerrit van, ‘Het dagboek van Etty Hillesum in Italië’ (Nijmegen, 2002) In: Filter: tijdschrift over vertalen, Vol. 9, nr 3 (2002) pp. 49-56.

Veel mooie woorden: Etty Hillesum en haar boekje Levenskunst,edited by Ria van den Brandt and Peter Nissen (Hilversum, 2017) YF.2018.a.20211.

Spirituality in the Writings of Etty Hillesum: Proceedings of the Etty Hillesum Conference at Ghent University, November 2008, edited by Klaas A.D. Smelik et al. (Leiden, 2010). Supplements to The Journal of Jewish Thought and Philosophy, vol. 11. YD.2012.a.877.

Klaas A.D. Smelik, Reading Etty Hillesum in Context: Writings, Life, and Influences of a Visionary author (Amsterdam, 2018) YD.2018.a.3834

The Lasting Significance of Etty Hillesum’s Writings: Proceedings of the Third International Etty Hillesum Conference at Middelburg, September 2018, edited by Klaas A.D. Smelik (Amsterdam, 2019) YD.2021.a.1416. Also available online free of charge.

Etty: de nagelaten geschriften van Etty Hillesum, 1941-1943, edited by Klaas A.D. Smelik, Gideon Lodders, Rob Tempelaars. 2nd ed. (Amsterdam, 1987) YA.1989.a.8106.

For centuries Lithuania was an important spiritual and cultural centre of Jewish life. The biggest Jewish communities were in Vilnius (‘Jerusalem of the North’) and Kaunas, the second biggest city in Lithuania. Before the Nazi invasion in June 1941, around 240,000 Jews lived in Lithuania; only several thousand – around 5% – survived the Holocaust.

In the interwar period Kaunas, a temporary capital of Lithuania, had a flourishing, vibrant and dynamic Jewish community. At one point a third of the inhabitants of Kaunas – 33,000 people – were Jewish. The city had around 40 synagogues and prayer houses, including the Slobodka yeshiva, one of the largest and best known yeshivas in Europe.

Gerardas Bagdonavičius, The Old Synagogue in the Old Town, 1930. Reproduced in Aliza Cohen-Mushlin, Synagogues in Lithuania: a catalogue (Vilnius, 2010). YD.2011.b.2062

The Jewish educational network consisted of numerous Yiddish and Hebrew schools. There was a flourishing artistic and music scene. The city had a Yiddish and a Hebrew theatre, several daily Jewish newspapers, sports clubs and youth organisations. Jewish political organisations were thriving. Social welfare organisations and charitable societies took care of those less fortunate; the Kaunas Jewish Hospital cared for both Jewish and non-Jewish patients. In 1920 the Central Jewish bank was established in Kaunas, leading a network of 85 Jewish banks.

Posters advertising cultural events in Lithuanian and Yiddish, image from Hidden history of the Kovno Ghetto, general editor Dennis B. Klein (Boston, 1997). LB.31.c.9499

Football match in the Kaunas Maccabi Stadium between the Kovas Club of Šančiai and the Maccabi Sports Club, April 25, 1926, image from Žydųgyvenimas Kaune iki holokausto (Vilnius, 2021). YF.2023.a.2399

Central Jewish Bank. Image from Wikimedia Commons

During the Nazi occupation the Kaunas Jewish community was almost completely destroyed. How to commemorate those who perished in such tragic circumstances?

The 11th Kaunas Biennial, which took place in 2017, explored the theme of monuments. What is a monument? Is our understanding of monuments changing? Is there a need for different kinds of commemoration? During the biennial the participating artists created, among others, a number of site-specific performances and installations referencing Kaunas’ Jewish past.

The artist Jenny Kagan, whose parents survived the Kaunas Ghetto, in her installation Murmuration, using a video projection and LED lighting, evoked the memory of the lost Jewish community. A brightly lit up building of a former Hasidic synagogue (the lights followed the rhythm of street lighting) on closer inspection turned out to be empty and derelict. The emptiness of the building is reminiscent of an empty sky from which starlings, known for their murmurations, quickly disappear, their numbers drastically declining.

Murmuration, from Yra ir nėra = There and not there: (im)possibility of a monument (Kaunas, 2018) [awaiting shelfmark]

Paulina Pukytė curated several performances and installations for the 11th Kaunas Biennial. One of them was At Noon in Democrats’ Square. Every day at noon, from 15 October to 30 November 2017, in the Vilijampolė district of Kaunas, a singer stood facing the empty space which once was Demokratų Square. The singer sang two songs in Yiddish: Yankele and My Yiddishe Mame. The performance lasted 7 minutes.

At Noon in Democrats’ Square, from Yra ir nėra

Vilijampolė, also known as Slobodka, on the right bank of the Neris River, was the site of the Kaunas Ghetto where thousands of Jews perished during the Holocaust. On 29 October, 1941, the day of the so called ‘Great Action’, around 27,000 Jews were forced to assemble on Demokratų Square. Men, women and children stood there for hours while a selection took place. Those deemed strong enough to work were temporarily saved; the rest, 9,200 of them, were executed the next day in Fort IX, part of the city‘s fortifications turned into a temporary prison.

At Noon at Democrats Square was a commemoration of those who perished as a result of the ‘Great Action’.

Paulina Pukytė, the chief curator of the 11th Kaunas Biennial, is an interdisciplinary artist, writer, curator and critic, and lecturer at the Vilnius Academy of Arts. She will talk about the (im)possibility of monuments at the Holocaust Memorial Day event, held at the British Library on 27th of January.

Ela Kucharska-Beard, Curator Slavonic and East European Collections

References and further reading:

Paulina Pukytė, Kas yra = Something is (Vilnius, 2021) [awaiting shelfmark] 

 Arūnas Bubnys, Kaunas ghetto 1941-1944 (Vilnius, 2014). YD.2016.a.992 

 Martin Winstone, The Holocaust Sites of Europe : an Historical Guide (London, 2015). YC.2016.a.6368 

 Nick Sayers, The Jews of Lithuania: a Journey Through the Long Twentieth Century (London, 2024)

Monument to children murdered in Babi Yar, Ukraine (image from Wikipedia)

‘Field of Burial’ where the ashes of murdered and cremated prisoners were scattered, Maly Trostenets, Belarus (image from Wikipedia)

In 1961, a young Soviet poet Yevgeny Yevtushenko visited the Babi Yar ravine in Kyiv. He was taken there by a fellow writer Anatolii Kuznetsov. A native of Kyiv, Kuznetsov experienced Nazi occupation as a child and knew about the tragedy in Babi Yar firsthand. Both authors were shocked to see that there was no sign in memory of 33,771 Jews who had been murdered by the Nazis just in two days in September 1941. Possibly over 100,000 more people, among them prisoners of war, Soviet partisans, Ukrainian nationalists and Roma people, were killed there in the following months. However, the Soviet authorities were reluctant to collect and disclose records of those crimes. On the same day, Yevtushenko wrote a poem:

No monument stands over Babi Yar.
A drop sheer as a crude gravestone.
I am afraid.
Today I am as old in years
as all the Jewish people.

Cover of Yevgeny Yevtushenko, The collected poems 1952-1990  (Edinburgh, 1991) YC.1991.b.6558

The poem was published in the influential Moscow newspaper Literaturnaia gazeta (‘The Literary Newspaper’) but was severely criticised by the authorities and Communist Party officials for presenting Jews as the main victims of the fascist Germany.

Immediately after the end of the Second World War, Stalin designed his own antisemitic campaigns such as the prosecution of members of the Jewish Anti-fascist Committee and the Night of the Murdered Poets, the campaign against ‘rootless cosmopolitans’and the so-called ‘doctors’ plot’. Although the campaigns stopped with the death of Stalin, antisemitism in the Soviet Union was strong, and the official party line was not to accept the Holocaust as a concept. Instead, all victims of genocide and atrocities were put together under the ideologically loaded term ‘peaceful Soviet civilians’.

However, in the time of the Khrushchev Thaw artists were hopeful that their voices would be heard in the new political climate. In 1962, Dmitri Shostakovich wrote his Symphony No 13 for bass soloist, bass chorus, and large orchestra with lyrics by Yevtushenko. Although the symphony does not have an official title, it is known as ‘Babi Yar’. Anatolii Kuznetsov tried to publish his autobiographical book also under the title of Babi Yar. The book was seriously cut by censors but was eventually published in 1967. After defecting to the West, Kuznetsov managed to publish the book in full in 1970.

Anatolii Kuznetsov, Babii Iar: roman-dokument (Frankfurt am Main, 1970) X.900/6037

However, neither Yevtushenko, nor Kuznetsov were the first to write about Babi Yar. Probably the first poem (lost and rediscovered only in 1991) about the murder in Babi Yar was written by a Jewish-Ukrainian poet Liudmila Titova in 1941:

The order was supported by the threat of execution,
They obeyed but were shot.
Not a single candle was lit that night,
Those who could, left and hid in the basement.
The stars and the Sun hid in the clouds
From our world that is too cruel.

Liudmila Titova (image from Wikipedia)

In 1943, another Ukrainian poet and at that time a Deputy Chairman of the Council of Ministers (Commissars) of the Ukrainian SSR, Mykola Bazhan,wrote his response:

The grave wind blew from those ravines —
The smoke of mortal fires, the smoking of burning bodies.
Kyiv watched, angry Kyiv,
As Babi Yar was thrown into flames.
There can be no atonement for this flame.
There is no measure of revenge for this burning.
Cursed be the one who dares to forget.
Cursed be the one who tells us: “forgive me...”

Only in 1991 was a Ukrainian Jewish poet, Yurii Kaplan, able to compile a small anthology – Ekho Bab’ego IAra (‘The Echo of Babi Yar’) where he managed to include other pieces of contemporary poetry.

Page from Literatura ta Zhittia, N 2, zhovten’, 2007.

Cover of Ekho Bab'ego Iara : poeticheskaia antologiia (Kyiv, 1991) YA.1996.a.9243

In 1946, Ilya Ehrenburg, a prominent Soviet writer, published a poem under the title of ‘Babi Yar’ about the genocide of his people:

My child! My blush! 
My countless relatives! 
I hear how you call me  
from every hole.

Together with another Jewish Soviet writer Leonid Grossman, Ehrenburg compiled and tried to publish a volume of eyewitness accounts documenting the atrocities during the Holocaust on the Soviet territories occupied by the Nazis.

During the war, frontline soldiers sent Ilya Ehrenburg a huge number of documents found in the territories liberated from the occupiers and told in their letters what they had seen or heard. Ehrenburg decided to collect the diaries, suicide letters, and testimonies related to the Nazis’ extermination of Jews and to publish the ‘Black Book’. A couple of extracts from the book were published in a magazine in 1944. However, after the end of the war, the publication was delayed several times. In November 1948, when the Soviet Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee was closed, the set of the ‘Black Book’ was scattered, the galleys (printer’s proof) and the manuscript were taken away. Ehrenburg’s daughter later gave the manuscript and other documents to the Yad Vashem archives and the book was published in Russian in 1980. However, that was not the full text. The first full Russian edition appeared only in 1991.

The Complete Black Book of Russian Jewry : [prepared by] Ilya Ehrenburg and Vasily Grossman, translated and edited by David Patterson ; with a foreword by Irving Louis Horowitz and an introduction by Helen Segall. (London, 2002) YC.2002.b.953

The book documents atrocities that were committed on all occupied Soviets territories, such sites as Fort IX in Kovno (Kaunas), the Rumbula and Bikernieki Forests in Riga and Maly Trostenets near Minsk and Zmiyovskaya Balka near Rostov-on-Don.

Analysing the policy of ‘forgetting the specificity of Jewish suffering’, Izabella Tabarovsky of the Kennan Institute, points out that “by 2006, Yad Vashem, the world’s leading Holocaust Museum and research institution, found it had barely 10-15% of the names of the 1.5 million Jews who had died in Ukraine (in contrast to 90% of European Jews whose names were known)”.

At the Holocaust Memorial Day Fragments of the Past: Holocaust Legacies and Commemoration, Professor Jeremy Hicks will give a talk on ‘ Representations of the Holocaust in Soviet Cinema’, which will examine further the creation of silences and gaps in memories of Holocaust.

Katya Rogatchevskaia, Lead Curator, East European Collections

References/Further reading:

Maxim D. Shrayer (2010). ‘Poets Bearing Witness to the Shoah’ in Studies in Slavic Languages and Literature (ICCEES Congress Stockholm 2010 Papers and Contributions), edited by Stefano Garzonio. PECOB: Portal on Central Eastern and Balkan Europe. University of Bologna. Pp. 59-119.

Ekho Bab’ego IAra: poeticheskaia antologiia, [sostavlenie i vstupitelʹnaia statʹiia IU.G. Kaplana]. (Kyiv, 1991). YA.1996.a.9243

A. Anatoli (Kuznetsov), Babi Yar: a Document in the Form of a Novel, translated by David Floyd. (London, 1970) W67/8178

Izabella Tabarovsky. Don’t Learn from Russians about the Holocaust. Published: February 2, 2017 

The Holocaust stands as one of the most tragic chapters in human history. Yet, through the voices of children who lived through its horrors, we are offered a glimpse into the quiet courage that endured even in the darkest of times.

The diaries of youth, written in ghettos and concentration camps, are personal testaments to the strength of the human spirit. The young writers found ways to express their creativity, and hope, leaving behind a legacy that preserves their voices.

The stories entrusted to paper carried immense emotional weight for the survivors or their families. Many of these diaries remained unpublished for decades, with some only reaching readers in the 21st century. The British Library holds examples of these works, including memoirs and writings of young people from the Terezín ghetto in German-occupied Czechoslovakia.

In the Living Quarters - a drawing by Bedrich Fritta of the Terezin (Theresienstadt) ghetto, source: Wikipedia, public domain

Terezín, the ‘Model’ Ghetto

Terezín, called by the Germans Theresienstadt, a Nazi ‘camp-ghetto’ in operation from 1941 to 1945, was portrayed by the occupier’s propaganda as a ‘spa town’ for elderly Jews. In reality, it served as a transit hub for deportations to extermination camps such as Auschwitz and Treblinka.

It was a chilling symbol of Nazi deception, serving as a stage for efforts to obscure the true nature of their genocidal actions, including a 1944 Red Cross visit carefully orchestrated to portray the ghetto as humane.

The truth, however, lay in its devastating death toll and its role as a waypoint on the road to extermination.

Despite these dire circumstances, Terezín became a centre of remarkable cultural activity. In the face of oppression, artists, musicians and writers produced works of art, music and literature, while children found ways to express hope and imagination through secret schooling, painting and poetry.

The boy who loved Jules Verne

Petr Ginz, born in Prague in 1928, was a talented young writer, artist and editor. By the time he was a teenager, he had written multiple short stories and novels inspired by his favourite author, Jules Verne. His adventure novel Návštěva z Pravěku (‘A Visit from Prehistory’) where engineer Gérard Guiness and his son Petr confront the mysterious creature Ka-du, reflects his belief in courage and ingenuity. Illustrated by Ginz himself, it is the only surviving novel out of several that he wrote.

Illustration from Petr Ginz, Návštěva z Pravěku: roman, (Prague, 2007) YF.2008.a.22831

In Terezín, Ginz became the editor of Vedem, a clandestine magazine created by boys in the ghetto. Writing under the pen name ‘Akademie’, he contributed essays, stories and illustrations. The Diary of Petr Ginz 1928-1944, written between 1941 and 1942, provides an account of life under Nazi oppression. It was later published by his sister Chava Pressburger ensuring his voice would not be forgotten.

Cover of The Diary of Petr Ginz 1928-1944

Ginz was a prolific illustrator. His linocut, Moon Landscape, created around 1942, depicts an imagined view of Earth from the Moon, reflecting his fascination with exploration and the cosmos. In a tribute, Israeli astronaut Ilan Ramon carried a copy of this drawing aboard the Space Shuttle Columbia in 2003, symbolically fulfilling Ginz’s dream of reaching the stars. Tragically, both Ginz and Ramon lost their lives prematurely – Ginz perished in Auschwitz at 16, and Ramon died when Columbia disintegrated upon re-entry – but their stories highlight the importance of preserving history and art.

Petr Ginz, Moon Landscape, source: Wikipedia, public domain

The writings and art of Terezín’s children

In 1995, the Jewish Museum in Prague published the anthology Je mojí vlastí hradba ghett? (‘Is the Wall of Ghettos My Homeland?) which features writings and artwork created by children in Terezín. The collection includes texts from Vedem and other works, offering insight into the emotional and psychological worlds of young people living in extreme conditions.

Cover of Je mojí vlastí hradba ghett? Básně, próza a kresby terezínských dětí, edited by Marie Rút Křížková, Kurt Jiří Kotouč and Zdeněk Ornest (Prague, 1995) YA.2000.b.2154

The testimony of Hana Bořkovcová

Hana Bořkovcová, a renowned Czech author, also left behind a powerful diary, Píšu a sešit mi leží na kolenou: deníky 1940 - 1946 (‘I Write, and the Notebook Lies on My Lap: Diaries 1940–1946’ (Prague, 2011) YF.2012.a.13806.

Published posthumously in 2011, her writings chronicle her family’s experiences, from their life in Prague’s Jewish community to their deportation to Terezín when she was 16 years old, Auschwitz, and a labour camp in Kurzbach. Her diary concludes with her post-war life, including the birth of her son.

Bořkovcová’s account is striking for its sensitivity and strength. Her observations about life in the Jewish school and among young Zionists offer a rich cultural and social context, making her diary a valuable resource for readers and historians alike.

Documenting the unimaginable

In 2012, Michal Kraus published his diary, originally written in Czech, which was later translated into English and published in 2016 under the title Drawing the Holocaust. His entries are marked by stark realism and are accompanied by detailed drawings. Kraus’s meticulous documentation provides an unflinching account of the brutality of the Holocaust and its impact on those who survived. The diary also reflects Kraus’s struggle to return to a ‘normal’ life after the war.

Michal Kraus, Drawing the Holocaust: A Teenager’s Memory of Terezin, Birkenau, and Mauthausen (Cincinnati, 2016) YKL.2016.a.8040

A story saved in the walls

Helga Weissová’s diary is another remarkable testament. Starting at age nine, she documented her life during the Nazi occupation of Czechoslovakia. Like Petr Ginz, Helga was sent to Terezín before being deported to Auschwitz and other concentration camps. Her diary is accompanied by her drawings, which vividly depict her experiences. Before her deportation, Weissová entrusted her diary to her uncle, who hid it within the walls of Terezín. After the war, she recovered and expanded it to include her harrowing memories from the camps. Published decades later, her work offers a powerful narrative.

Cover of Helga’s Diary: a Young Girl’s Account of Life in a Concentration Camp (London, 2013) YC.2013.a.16374

The importance of remembrance

As we commemorate the 80th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz on January 27, 2025, it is imperative to reflect on the significance of these personal narratives. Auschwitz-Birkenau was the largest Nazi concentration and extermination camp, where over a million people perished. Just like Petr Ginz, many of those who lost their lives in Auschwitz were first imprisoned in Terezín before being transported to their deaths. The diaries of these individuals are not merely archival records; they are powerful reminders of the human capacity for resilience and creativity in the face of adversity. Their writings challenge us to remember the past and to educate future generations about the dangers of hatred and intolerance. By reading and sharing these stories, we preserve their voices and the lessons they left behind for a better, more compassionate world.

Olga Topol, Curator Slavonic and East European Collections

As a scholarly discipline, anthropology was a relative latecomer to the Balkans, unlike its counterparts, ethnography and ethnology, which were well established in the region since the 19th century. The first serious anthropological studies of the region were carried out during the interwar period, which saw the establishment of the Kingdom of the Serbs, Croats and Slovenes (1918-1929), later the Kingdom of Yugoslavia (1929-1941). This new kingdom, which emerged in the wake of post-First World War imperial collapse, merged multiple communities who had long lived under Austro-Hungarian, Venetian and Ottoman dominion into an ethnically and culturally diverse modern state.

Croatian women washing linen. Illustration from Vera Ehrlich’s Porodica u transformaciji — Studija u tri stotine jugoslavenskih sela (Zagreb, 1971) YA.2001.a.13905

One of the key anthropological studies to emerge in this period was the work of a remarkable Croatian-Jewish scholar, Vera Ehrlich (1897-1980). Born in Zagreb, Croatia, then a province of Austria-Hungary, Ehrlich was a precocious young woman, composing her first critical works in 1916 aged 19 and later studying psychology in Vienna and in Berlin. She married Ben Stein, a noted doctor, and together the couple worked on the psychiatric study of child development, publishing numerous articles on the subject.

Market day in Travnik, Bosnia. Illustration from Porodica u transformaciji...

In the 1930s, Ehrlich turned her attention to her own country, Yugoslavia, simultaneously “East and West, traditional and modern … backward and progressive”. She was particularly interested in the status of women in Yugoslav society. In 1937, a group of her Bosnian Muslim students invited her to write about the condition of women in their communities and together they drew up a survey to research the domestic life of Bosnian Muslims. Ehrlich later extended the scope of her research to Serbia, Montenegro and Macedonia, which had among the highest rates of female illiteracy and maternal and infant mortality in Europe and where archaic practices persisted such as bride abduction. For Ehrlich, the study of Yugoslav society, with its geographic and demographic diversity, social complexity and economic disparities – “the co-existence side by side of primeval and modern conditions of life, and of customs (which in other countries centuries or thousands of years have separated from each other)” – afforded unique opportunities for comparison and analysis.

Woman with great-grandchildren, Herzegovina. Illustration from Porodica u transformaciji...

Ehrlich began her investigation of rural family life on the eve of the Second World War, sending surveys to local schoolteachers and doctors based in 300 villages across Yugoslavia, covering Muslim, Catholic and Eastern Orthodox communities in different stages of socio-economic development. The surveys sought to define the nature of family relationships concerning personal authority and the individual positions of members within the family hierarchy, and to study the conditions relating to courtship, marriage, childbirth, childrearing and other key aspects of family life.

Spinning wool, Herzegovina. Illustration from Porodica u transformaciji...

The advent of war following the 1941 Axis invasion of Yugoslavia and the establishment in 1945 of the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia under Josip Broz Tito changed the social fabric of the country – and indeed Ehrlich’s own life – forever. Her survey of 300 villages on the cusp of a traumatic and transformative period of war and socialist revolution was, as she later observed, “a film of forms of life that were soon to disappear…. the survey of peasant family life in Jugoslavia [sic.] has acquired a certain documentary importance, not originally anticipated”. The information she collected, documenting the twilight of an ancient patriarchal order, later formed the basis of her seminal work, Porodica u transformaciji — Studija u tri stotine jugoslavenskih sela (Zagreb, 1964), published in English translation in 1966 as ‘Family in Transition: A study of 300 Yugoslav villages’. It remains the most extensive and detailed anthropological analysis of pre-war Yugoslavia. The British Library holds a copy of the 1966 English-translation and a second enlarged edition of the original published in 1971.

Lake Ohrid, Macedonia. Illustration from Porodica u transformaciji...

In the study, Ehrlich documents the ‘zadruga’ – the South Slav patriarchal family – offering a detailed analysis of the relations between different family members, family and community social problems, and the variety of family types, including what she terms ‘tribal’, ‘Oriental’ and regional varieties. She analyses the effect of contact with neighbouring cultures and describes the processes of family transition and transformation in response to socioeconomic change.

Folk dance (kolo), Dalmatia. Illustration from Porodica u transformaciji...

Although predicated on male authority and governed by rigid protocols, the traditional patriarchal family as she observed it was nevertheless characterised by relative stability and low levels of abusive and socially irresponsible behaviour, such as alcoholism and domestic violence. Issues such as the latter became prevalent, she observed, during the transition phases from the patriarchal system to the modern nuclear family unit, when pre-industrial societies developed into market economies, with their attendant volatilities.

Making coral necklaces, Dalmatia. Illustration from Vera Ehrlich’s Family in Transition: A study of 300 Yugoslav villages (Princeton, 1966) X.800/2138

Ehrlich herself was not immune to the tragedy of her times. She narrowly dodged the Gestapo, who tried to seize her fieldwork notes, and lost her husband following his capture and internment in German concentration camp in Serbia. Armed with little more than her data, jealously preserved in a battered suitcase, she survived a series of miraculous escapes before fleeing across the Adriatic Sea to Italy in 1943, in a small boat under enemy fire.

At market, Herzegovina. Illustration from Family in transition...

From 1945 to 1950, she used her psychiatric training as a United Nations social worker, helping with the repatriation of Yugoslav refugees from German camps, all the while continuing her anthropological research. A scholarship led her to the United States, where she gained a doctorate in social anthropology from the University of California at Berkeley, and for the next ten years she worked as a lecturer in Slavic languages and literature and research fellow in anthropology. In 1960, she returned to Yugoslavia and became a professor in anthropology at the University of Zagreb, lecturing and touring around Yugoslavia and internationally until her death in 1980. She published numerous other works in her lifetime, including U društvu s čovjekom — tragom njegovih kulturnih i socijalnih tekovina (‘In the company of man - tracing his cultural and social heritage’; Zagreb, 1968).

Montenegrin woman in traditional costume. Illustration from Porodica u transformaciji...

Ehrlich is remembered for her pioneering contribution to Balkan anthropology and for her unique scholarly portrayal of a now-vanished society. Her work was crucial in raising awareness about the condition of women and families – especially in rural areas – within Yugoslavia’s ethnically diverse territory and in highlighting the challenges they faced. In doing so, she paved the way for the postwar activism of the Yugoslav Women’s Antifascist Front (AFŽ), a state-sponsored women’s organisation which organized mass postwar campaigns to achieve female emancipation through combating illiteracy and reducing maternal and infant mortality through improved sanitation and better education in rural areas.

Croatian peasants. Illustration from Family in transition...

Savka Andic, Acquisitions South team

References:

Chiara Bonfiglioli, ‘“An Age Fated to Vanish”: Vera Stein Erlich’s Anthropological Records of Interwar Yugoslavia. Contribution to the web-feature ‘European history – gender history’, in Themenportal Europäische Geschichte, 2016, <www.europa.clio-online.de/searching/id/fdae-1676>.

Vera Stein Erlich, Biografija i bibliografija, Rev. za sociologiju, Vol. XIV (1984), JY° 3-4 : 339-342 UDK 92 V. St. Erlich Pregledni

Vera Stein Ehrlich, Jugoslavenska porodica u transformaciji : Studija u tri stotine sela. (Zagreb, 1971). YA.2001.a.13905

Vera Stein Ehrlich, Family in Transition: A study of 300 Yugoslav villages (Princeton, 1966). X.800/2138

Žene kroz povijest: zbornik radova sa znanstvenog skupa Dies historiae 2012. - Žene kroz povijest održanog 5. prosinca 2012. godine [edited by Matea Jalžečić and Petra Marinčić] (Zagreb, 2014).

Join us on Monday 27 January 2025 for the event ‘Fragments of the Past: Holocaust Legacies and Commemoration’ and explore how the Holocaust has shaped memory, identity, and culture. Bringing together scholars, historians, and artists, this conference examines the Holocaust’s profound and enduring impact, as well as the varied methods used to preserve its legacy.

From antisemitism in post-First World War Hungary, the Jewish Resistance to the Holocaust, and the commemoration of hidden killing sites in postwar Poland, to Soviet depictions of the Shoah in film and contemporary counter-monument approaches, the programme offers insights into Holocaust memory and its ongoing significance.

‘Fragments of the Past: Holocaust Legacies and Commemoration’ event poster

The conference is organised by the European Collections section of the British Library in partnership with the Polish Cultural Institute. The event is open to all, and attendance is free, but registration is required. Booking details can be found here.

Programme:

Date: 27 January 2025
Location: Eliot Room, Knowledge Centre
Time: 2 pm – 5 pm

• Antisemitic versus Jewish Humour in Budapest Post-WWI
  Prof. Dr Béla Bodó, Department of East-European History, University of Bonn
  
  
• The Jewish Resistance to the Holocaust
  Dr Halik Kochanski, Writer and Historian, Fellow of the Royal Historical Society
  
  
• ‘The grave […] has been planted over with potatoes’: Transnational Jewish Fight to Commemorate Holocaust Killing Sites in Poland in the First Postwar Decades
  Dr Janek Gryta, Lecturer in Holocaust History, University of Southampton
  
  
• Representations of the Holocaust in Soviet Cinema
  Prof. Jeremy Hicks, Professor of Russian Culture and Film, Queen Mary University of London
  
  
• There and Not There: (Im)Possibility of a Monument
  Paulina Pukyte, Interdisciplinary Artist, Writer, Curator, and Critic, Vilnius Academy of Arts
  
  
• Poetics of the Archive in Marianne Rubinstein’s ‘C’est maintenant du passé’ and Ivan Jablonka’s ‘Histoire des grands-parents que je n'ai pas eus’
  Dr Diane Otosaka, Postdoctoral Research Fellow in Holocaust Literature, University of Leeds

Usually around the start of a new year we look back over our previous year’s blogging before turning our faces to the future. This time we’re actually looking back over 2023 as well as 2024 because BL blogging activity was suspended for a while following the cyber-attack on the Library in October 2023, so we couldn’t do a review of that year at the time. And to break up the prose, we include some wintery scenes from the BL’ s Flickr stream.

Reindeer from Sophus Tromholt, Under Nordlysets Straaler. Skildringer fra Lappernes Land (Copenhagen, 1885) 10280.eee.13.

Both years saw our usual excitement over the annual European Writers’ Festival held in May. In 2023 we featured an interview with Greek Cypriot writer Anthony Anaxagorou,  winner of the 2024 RSL Ondaatje Prize, while in 2024 we published a series of posts, beginning with this one, profiling some of the authors featured in the festival. As usual, literature featured in many other posts. We celebrated the award of the 2023 Nobel Prize in Literature to Norway’s Jon Fosse and mourned the death in 2024 of Albanian author Ismail Kadare. We were proud to learn that our Curator of Italian, Valentina Mirabella, was one of the judges of the 2024 Premio Strega, a major Italian literary prize, and she wrote about her experience for us.

A theme that ran through both years was the work of the Endangered Archives Project to preserve cultural heritage from Eastern and Southeastern Europe. Our coverage included posts on the indigenous peoples of Siberia, minority communities in Bulgaria, an important Serbian family archive, and material relating to the Ukrainian writer Taras Shevchenko, who was also the subject of a small display in our Treasures Gallery. 

Polar scene from Die zweite Deutsche Nordpolarfahrt in den Jahren 1869 und 1870, unter Führung des Kapitän Karl Koldewey, edited by Alexander Georg Mosle und Georg Albrecht (Leipzig, 1873-4) 10460.ff.11.

Events in the library are a regular source of inspiration for our blog posts. In 2023 we highlighted events commemorating two colleagues who died in recent years: a symposium on Italian Futurism was dedicated to the memory of Chris Michaelides, former curator of Italian and Modern Greek, who did much to build our collection of Futurist books. The Graham Nattrass Lecture, in memory of the former Head of Germanic Collections is an annual event, and in 2023 marked the 80th anniversary of the arrest and execution of members of the German resistance group ‘Die Weisse Rose’. A conference on European political refugees in Britain generated posts on the same topic, including one on how the then British Museum Library became ‘a lifeline of books’ for Polish refugees from Soviet and Nazi occupation. On a lighter note, we celebrated the BL’s annual Food Season in May 2024 with a post introducing a selection of cookbooks from around the continent.

In summer 2024 we went a bit sports mad with both the European Football Championships and the Summer Olympics taking place. We highlighted the world-beating football tactics of the Hungarian ‘Golden Team’ in the early 1950s and the ‘Miracle of Bern’ that saw them unexpectedly beaten by West Germany in 1954’s World Cup, as well as exploring why the Dutch fans show symptoms of ‘orange fever’ at international matches. Our Olympic posts included explorations of the political side of the supposedly apolitical games in Czechoslovakia and the two German states during the Cold War, and a look at the Baltic States’ love for (and proud record in) basketball.

The northern lights, from Emmanuel Liais, L’Espace céleste et la nature tropicale, description physique de l’univers (Paris, 1866) 10003.d.10.

But not all our blog posts are driven by events and unifying themes. As ever, we continued to write about items from our vast and varied collections, from Georgian manuscripts to contemporary Queer writing in Poland, via a Russian Braille edition of The Hobbit, French caricatures from the Franco-Prussian War, and pamphlets from the Cypriot independence campaign.  We also explored stories of the Slovenian Enlightenment and the first Professor of Spanish in Britain, and discovered the hidden but crucial role played by women in underground publishing under the Polish Communist regime.

As we head into 2025 we would like to wish all our readers and contributors a very happy new year. We look forward to bringing you another year of stories and discoveries from the Library’s European Collections.

Susan Reed and Hanna Dettlaff-Kuznicka, European Studies Blog Editors

Ice-skating, from A.J. van der Aa, Ons Vaderland en zijne Bewoners (Amsterdam,1855-57) 10270.f.5

On Friday 15 November at the British Library conference European Political Refugees to the UK from 1800, I spoke about a little-known group of ordinary people who travelled to the UK from occupied Netherlands, between 1940 and 1944, called ‘Engelandvaarders’, or ‘England Farers’. It sounds simple enough, but it was a very dangerous undertaking and many did not make it.

One of those whose attempt failed was Binnert Philip de Beaufort (1919-1945)

Binnert Philip de Beaufort (1919-1945), from the fourth edition of his book Kerstmis in Scheveningen (Hilversum, 2021) YF.2022.a.7493.

Binnert had been on a mission to take some important papers to England via the Southern Route, which led from the Netherlands through Belgium, France, Spain and Portugal. Almost a thousand England Farers took this route to England. He set off for England in 1942, but when he arrived in Brussels he was betrayed, arrested and taken back to the Netherlands where he was imprisoned in Scheveningen Prison. This prison held people persecuted by the Nazis: Jews, gay people, Jehovah’s Witnesses and members of the resistance. The last group gave the prison its nickname Het Oranjehotel (‘The Orange Hotel’). Oranje refers to the Dutch Royal Family, particularly Queen Wilhelmina, who had taken refuge in London, from where she was one of the leaders of the resistance.

The so-called ‘Oranjehotel’, the prison in Scheveningen. (Image from Wikimedia Commons)

It was from the Oranjehotel that 250 prisoners were taken to the dunes, executed and buried there. Binnert knew he was going to be among them. So did his friends outside the prison. They hatched a plan to get him out. Binnert was admitted to a hospital nearby, from where he managed to escape in May 1943. He went into hiding for fourteen months, and this is when he wrote his account of his time in prison, about Christmas 1942. In December 1944 it was published anonymously and clandestinely in Amsterdam by Th. E. Nije as Kerstmis in Scheveningen (‘Christmas in Scheveningen’).

Title page of Kerstmis in Scheveningen (Amsterdam, 1944) X.809.4019.

Nije was a small printers house and publisher, who was acquainted with a larger publishing house, owned by the family with whom Binnert had stayed.

In February 1945 Binnert was walking down the Kalverstraat in Amsterdam when he ran into some German police who shot him. Although he managed to climb onto the rooftops, he fell and died. He was buried in the dunes, amongst many other resistance fighters. This burial place was later made into the Cemetery of Honour in Bloemendaal. 

Kerstmis in Scheveningen tells the story of how Binnert became aware of his strong Christian faith. Faced with enormous pressures of the endless interrogations, the hunger and cold and terrible conditions in prison he found strength in the words ‘As long as God is with me, who can be against me?’ Christmas 1942 was very challenging for him. On 23 December the Germans had taken away 500 inmates, including his two cellmates. He did not know where they had been taken. His block was almost empty, and he felt lonely. On Christmas Eve he was again taken for interrogation to the Binnenhof, or Inner Court in the centre of The Hague. His technique of getting through these long hours of questioning was to concentrate on something else, mainly his faith. On the way out of the building he had to pass tables groaning under all sorts of Christmas treats, whilst he had hardly eaten anything. That evening he was at a particularly low point, but his spirits were lifted by the arrival of a new cellmate and Christmas parcels from the Red Cross. After having eaten, Binnert felt inspired to read the Nativity story to his cellmate. However, other prisoners wanted to hear this too. Standing on a little stool so he could talk through an air vent, Binnert found himself preaching a Christmas sermon. Other prisoners told Christmas stories and the evening ended by all of them singing ‘Silent Night’. The carol reverberated throughout the prison. It was a true spiritual experience, and it gave him strength to sit out the next five months, before his escape.

Kerstmis in Scheveningen was printed in 3000 copies. Proceeds went to various resistance groups in support of their work. This was how the publishing of clandestine titles worked. Nearly 1100 individual book titles were printed clandestinely, ‘with much trouble and danger’, as stated on the title page of Kerstmis in Scheveningen. Both amateur and professional printers risked their freedom and indeed their lives in making these books. Some print runs were tiny, around 25 copies, some were large, counting thousands of copies. Their aim was the same: to give the readers hope, as well as to raise funds for the resistance. That is also why not many titles appeared in later editions after the war, but Kerstmis in Scheveningen did see a second edition. In 1945 the publishing house De Bezige Bij (‘The Busy Bee’) published a new edition with a tribute to Binnert. In 1960 a third edition appeared, published by Buskes in Amsterdam and in 2021 a new, fourth edition was published by Verloren, with a prologue and a biography of Binnert by Esther Blom.

Cover of the fourth edition of Kerstmis in Scheveningen

Kerstmis in Scheveningen captures the spirit of those who resisted the Nazi occupation like few other titles. It shines a light on the involvement of young people; some of whom paid with their lives. It is part of a very special collection of almost 600 clandestinely published books held by the British Library.

Marja Kingma, Curator Germanic Collections

Further reading:

Agnes Dessing, Tulpen voor Wilhelmina: de geschiedenis van de Engelandvaarders (Amsterdam, 2004) YF.2005.a.31442.

Dirk de Jong, Het vrije boek in onvrije tijd: bibliografie van illegale en clandestiene bellettrie. (Leiden, 1958) 11926.pp.34.

Anna Simoni, Publish and Be Free: a Vatalogue of Clandestine Books Printed in the Netherlands, 1940-1945, in the British Library (The Hague; London, 1975) 2725.aa.1

With Christmas fast approaching, I thought I would share one of my favourite seasonal reads, Noch’ pered Rozhdestvom (‘Christmas Eve’, also known as ‘The Night Before Christmas’, 1832) by Nikolai Gogol'. This whimsical and uproarious folk tale comes from a collection of eight short stories written in Russian and collected in two volumes, Vechera na khutore bliz Dikan’ki (‘Evenings on a Farm near Dikanka’, 1831-1832), which catapulted the author to fame almost overnight. If you like the sound of a winter story featuring flying dumplings and a witch hiding her suitors in rubble sacks, then read on, you are in for a treat. This delightfully eccentric and cliché-free narrative is certain to put you in a festive mood.

Cover of Vechory na khutori bilia Dykanʹky by Nikolai Gogol' (Kyiv, 2008) YF.2009.b.2030

Opening pages of Noch’ pered Rozhdestvom by Nikolai Gogol' (Kyiv, 2008) YF.2009.b.2030

However, you may wonder how the author of Mertvye Dushi (‘Dead Souls’, 1842) came to write such a lighthearted and, dare I say it, frivolous piece. To answer that question, we need to travel back to December 1828 when a young aspiring writer hailing from the small Cossack town of Sorochyntsi arrives in the metropolitan St. Petersburg to seek his fortune. Unable to secure a decent paying job in the civil service, Nikolai soon becomes disillusioned with life in the capital and the workings of the Russian bureaucracy. The disappointment with St. Petersburg coincides with his newfound appreciation of the homeland he left behind and the craze for all things “Little Russian” sweeping the capital’s literary scene at the time. Gogol' is quick to capitalize on this trend and eager to bring the beauty of Ukraine to the Russian reading public. Yet for all the enthusiasm with which the liberal circles received Gogol’s work, the nation reflected in Vechera was not Russia but Ukraine. Far from smoothing over this difference, the author deliberately accentuated it.

There is undoubtedly more to the joyous and seemingly carefree tone of Vechera than first meets the eye. The Ukrainian-Russian glossaries appended to each volume clearly underline Ukrainian linguistic separateness and cultural uniqueness, creating a boundary between the Ukrainian and imperial cultures. The narrator, Rudy Pan'ko, regularly engages in intense self-descriptions, offering equivalents for what his Russian audience may find unfamiliar. This is evident in Noch’ pered Rozhdestvom when he attempts to explain the tradition of house-to-house caroling: ‘‘Among us it is the custom to sing under the window on Christmas Eve carols that are called kolyadki. The mistress or master or whoever is left in the house always drops into the singer’s bag some sausage or bread or a copper or whatever he has plenty of (...) They often sing about the birth of Christ, and at the end wish good health to the master, the mistress, the children and all the household’’, or when he elucidates on the meaning of the word ‘German’: ‘‘By ‘German’, we mean any foreigner, be it a French, Austro-Hungarian, or Swedish subject - no matter, we will still call them ‘Germans’.’’ (English translations by Constance Garnett, ‘Evenings on a Farm near Dikanka’ (London, 1926), 12266.g.2. and Anna Summers, ‘The night before Christmas’, (New York, 2014), YKL.2016.a.6326; emphasis mine). Pan'ko clearly wants his Russian readers to be mindful of the divisions between the two worlds.

Glossary listing popular Ukrainian terms and their Russian equivalents

The great success of Gogol's work also owed much to its Romantic handling of folklore and the perfect balance of the familiar and exotic in depicting Ukraine. As a number of scholars have pointed out, Noch’ pered Rozhdestvom contains many staples of the traditional Ukrainian nativity play, vertep. It opens with the devil swimming through the starry sky and burning his hands on the moon he had just stolen. As the story is set on the night before Christmas, the evil spirit is allowed to roam freely around the Ukrainian village of Dykanka and torment its denizens before he must return to hell on Christmas Day. He unleashes a blizzard hoping to thwart the village blacksmith's advances on the beautiful Oksana as he resents him for producing a painting depicting the devil's defeat. However, Vakula is determined to win the village belle over, even if it means battling Satan himself. Amid carol singing, holiday gluttony (think kutia, varenyky, palianytsia, varenukha) and drunken revelry, he manages to trick the devil into flying him to St. Petersburg, where he hopes to get a pair of empress’s heels for Oksana, who has promised to marry him on this condition. Without giving too much away, Vakula finally makes it to St. Petersburg and is immediately overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle of the city. He seeks refuge in the company of Zaporozhian Cossacks, who reluctantly take him along for their audience with the empress...

Too busy to read this Christmas? Gogol’s Ukrainian folk tales have been adapted into numerous films and operas. The most renowned adaptations of Noch’ pered Rozhdestvom include the eponymous 1961 film directed by Alexsander Rou and the 1913 silent movie by Władysław Starewicz. The 1951 Russian animated feature film directed by Valentina and Zinaida Brumberg is also available in the public domain.

Official poster for the 1961 Noch’ pered Rozhdestvom film by Alexander Rou (Image from Wikipedia)

Gogol's Noch’ pered Rozhdestvom celebrates Ukraine and its rich heritage. It is fun and edifying but also mischievously subversive. Will the pious Cossack Vakula manage to win the affection of the most beautiful girl in town? Or will the devil reign supreme on this holy night? A perfect tale for the holiday season, this wonderfully bizarre work will leave you with a sense of warmth and quiet wonder long after the last page is turned. Z Rizdvom! Merry Christmas!

Hanna Dettlaff-Kuznicka, Interim Curator of Slavonic and East European Collections

References:

Edyta M. Bojanowska, Nikolai Gogol : between Ukrainian and Russian nationalism (Cambridge, 2007) YC.2007.a.11089

Christopher Putney, Russian devils and diabolic conditionality in Nikolai Gogol's Evenings on a farm near Dikanka (New York, 1999) 5761.407700