Two free events in the British Library Pigott Theatre (booking necessary)

Afternoon symposium: Collections in French at the British Library

Evening event: The World Library: William Marx, with the participation of French Ambassador Helene Duchene and Sir Roly Keating, CEO of the British Library, followed by a discussion with Artemis Cooper, F.R.S.L.

https://thebritishlibraryculturalevents.seetickets.com/tour/rendez-vous-at-the-british-library

French Collections at the BL - Illustration by Clo'e Floirat

To conclude a year of celebrations marking the 120th anniversary of the Entente Cordiale, enjoy an afternoon exploring of the wealth of collections in French at the British Library.

Listen to acclaimed author Michel Pastoureau, and renowned academics, writers, and translators talk about their current research and projects based on manuscripts and printed collections in French; hear Curators talk about their work, discover hidden treasures, and seize the chance to visit out of hours the newly opened Medieval Women exhibition! 

The programme can be found here. 

There will also be the opportunity to see two pop-up exhibitions in the Knowledge Centre: ‘Postcards for Perec’, curated by Linda Parr and ‘When Marianne and Britannia meet’, ] curated by Guillaume Périssol and Charlotte Faucher.

The talks will be followed by a separate evening event introduced by the French Ambassador and Sir Roly Keating, CEO of the British Library, with the chance to hear Professor William Marx, from the Collège de France, talk about ‘The World Library’, followed by a discussion with Artemis Cooper, F.R.S.L. - and a message from Kate Mosse!

The events are free, but booking is essential.

These two events are generously supported by the department of Higher Education, Research, and Innovation Department of the French Embassy, the French Studies Library Group, and Mark Storey, Friends of the Nations’ Libraries Trustee and book collector.

   

 

When Alvydas Šlepikas’ book Mano vardas – Marytė (‘My name is Marytė’) was published in Lithuania in 2011, it caused a nationwide discussion. Beautifully written and based on historical facts, it was the most read novel in Lithuania in 2012. Since then this multi-award winning book has had numerous editions in Lithuania and has been translated into many languages. Its excellent English translation by Romas Kinka was published under the title In the Shadows of Wolves.

Cover of Mano vardas – Marytė (Vilnius, 2018) YF.2019.a.12103

Cover of In the Shadows of Wolves (London, 2019) Nov.2022/1050

Mano vardas – Marytė tells a story of a group of ‘wolf children’ from East Prussia (vilko vaikai in Lithuanian, Wolfskinder in German) who found their way to Lithuania. Who were the wolf children and why, for decades, was their existence surrounded by silence?

During the Second World War, in August 1944, the Royal Air Force heavily bombed Königsberg, the capital of the enclave of East Prussia, then part of the territory of the German Reich. The mediaeval city, home of the philosopher Immanuel Kant, was almost completely destroyed. A month later the Red Army reached this part of Germany. The battles continued until April 1945. With adult men fighting on the front, the civilian population consisted of women, children and elderly men. Once in East Prussia, the Soviet soldiers took revenge on the civilians for the atrocities committed by the Nazis during the war. Towns and villages were plundered and turned into wasteland; brutal killings and mass rapes were widespread. Famine soon followed, so severe that cases of cannibalism were recorded.

Map of East Prussia in 1939. Image from Wikimedia Commons

Postcard of Königsberg before the Second World War from Königsberg in alten Ansichtskarten (Würzburg, 2001) YA.2003.a.25095

Königsberg in August 1944. Image from Wikimedia Commons

Thousands of children became orphaned. They witnessed unimaginable horrors: killings, rapes, death of their siblings – one by one – from starvation, hypothermia and typhoid. Sometimes mothers approached farmers from neighbouring Lithuania, who were allowed to come to East Prussia and sell their produce, and offered their older children as farm workers in exchange for food; it gave those children – and their starving siblings – a chance of survival. Some children were sent out in search of food by their families, or volunteered themselves, crossing the border with Lithuania by stowing away on trains or crossing the frozen Nemunas river. Traumatised, they hid in the forests and moved, on their own or with younger siblings in tow, from village to village, begging, stealing, foraging for food and looking for shelter.

Some Lithuanian farmers took pity on these vokietukai (little Germans), and took them in as farm workers. Those children who still had families in East Prussia took hard-earned food across the border to share with their starving mothers and siblings. The lucky ones were adopted by Lithuanian families and treated as their own. The not so fortunate ones were exploited as cheap labour. The children were split from their siblings and had to move from place to place, from family to family, uprooted again and again. Whatever their situation, the wolf children were still grateful they had something to eat and a place to stay. The price they had to pay for survival, however, was their identity. The title of Šlepikas’ book is a Lithuanian phrase the main protagonist, a girl called Renate, is taught by her mother: my name is Marytė. She repeats it again and again when she gets to Lithuania. Being German is dangerous so German Renate becomes Lithuanian Marytė.

Two brothers from East Prussia, begging for food in Vilnius in May 1947. ‘Wolf children on Lithuanian farms’, from Imagining Lithuania: 100 years, 100 visions: 1918-2018 (Vilnius, 2018) [awaiting shelfmark]

German children adopted by Lithuanians were often given new Lithuanian names and new identities. Sometimes helpful priests falsified parish records. The adoptive parents and their families risked severe punishment by the Soviet authorities and lived in constant fear of the truth coming out. As a result most of the wolf children received very little schooling; many were illiterate and ended up living in poverty. It was only after the fall of communism that their identities could be safely revealed. Some of the wolf children only found out that they were German when they were elderly. With no original documents or with documents containing wrong or incomplete information, they faced an uphill struggle to find their German roots. Some managed to find relatives in Germany; for some it was too late. Having forgotten their native language, some re-learnt German to be able to communicate with their families. There were stories of happy reunions but sometimes wolf children were met with suspicion from their German relatives, or outright rejection. They were often uneducated, didn‘t know the language; they were seen as a possible burden.

For decades after the war, the wolf children of East Prussia didn’t get much attention in Germany, either. The country had to reckon with its Nazi past and the accompanying guilt; there was reluctance about presenting Germans – even innocent children – as victims of war. In addition, the wolf children who managed to get to Germany were unwilling to talk about their experiences, too traumatic to revisit. 

In any military conflict children can become collateral damage and erased from history. Mano vardas – Marytė gives voice to those who, for decades, have been forgotten. The book is not just a story of loss and unimaginable suffering but also of love, resilience, and hope against all odds.

Ela Kucharska-Beard, Curator Slavonic and East European Collections

References and further reading:

Norbertas Černiauskas, ‘Wolf children on Lithuanian farms’, in Imagining Lithuania: 100 years, 100 visions: 1918-2018 (Vilnius, 2018) [awaiting shelfmark]

Sonya Winterberg with Kerstin Lieff, The wolf children of Eastern Front: alone and forgotten (Barnsley, 2022)

Population displacement in Lithuania in the twentieth century, edited by Tomas Balkelis and Violeta Davoliūtė (Leiden, 2016). YD.2016.a.1761

Displaced children in Russia and Eastern Europe, 1915-1953, edited by Nick Baron (Leiden, 2016). YD.2017.a.1602

Sigita Kraniauskienė, Silva Pocytė, Ruth Leiserowitz, Irena Šutinienė, Klaipėdos kraštas 1945-1960 m.: naujos visuomenės kūrimasis ir jo atspindžiai šeimų istorijose (Klaipėda, 2019). YF.2021.a.9595

Christopher Spatz, Ostpreußische Wolfskinder: Erfahrungsräume und Identitäten in der deutschen Nachkriegsgesellschaft (Osnabrück, 2016). YF.2016.a.15325

Ruth Maria Wagner, Königsberg in alten Ansichtskarten (Würzburg, 2001). YA.2003.a.25095

On 15 November we are hosting a conference on European Political exiles and émigrés in Britain. This is one of a series of blog posts on the same topic. Conference details can be found here. Attendance is free, but registration is required.

If you were asked to name the most famous German political refugee in 19th-century Britain, you’d probably choose Karl Marx or Friedrich Engels. But at the time, Marx and Engels were comparatively little known outside a relatively small faction of communists. In wider émigré circles and among the British public, a far more familiar name was that of Gottfried Kinkel, an academic, writer and revolutionary who had arrived in London in November 1850 after making a dramatic escape from Spandau prison.

Gottfried Kinkel in the early 1860s (Image from Wikimedia Commons)

Marx would no doubt be delighted to know that his fame today far eclipses Kinkel’s because he thoroughly despised Kinkel, considering him to be a self-aggrandising third-rate writer and thinker. And since Marx was never one to nurse his dislikes quietly, his letters and other writings, especially the posthumously-published Die großen Männer des Exils (Heroes of the Exile) are full of vitriol against Kinkel and his allies.

While Marx’s dismissal of Kinkel’s work was doubtless based on genuine conviction, it’s not hard to see an element of envy there too. In the decade following his arrival in London, Kinkel began to make quite a name for himself as a teacher and lecturer, and was respected by other revolutionary exiles, especially those of the middle class, in a way that Marx could only dream of. At the end of the 1850s, Marx’s loathing would be further exacerbated when both men became involved with newspapers.

 

First Issue of Kinkel’s newspaper  Hermann, 8 January 1859. NEWS14565

In 1859 Kinkel founded a newspaper for Germans in London, naming it Hermann, after the ancient Germanic leader who defeated the Roman army. Hermann did not appear in a vacuum. Various German papers had been published in London since 1812 in an attempt to serve a growing German community and the arrival of political exiles after 1848 had led to a number of new Anglo-German newspapers with a more radical slant, most of them short lived as was the case with many such ventures. A few issues of Marx’s own Neue Rheinische Zeitung (‘New Rhenish Journal’) had been edited from London in 1850, but Marx had been involved with later London titles as a contributor rather than an editor. Now, with Kinkel promoting his own newspaper (which Marx and Engels cynically referred to as ‘Gottfried’), Marx felt more strongly the need for a similar platform of his own.

First issue of Das Volk, 7 May 1859. NEWS14239

A solution appeared in the form of Das Volk (‘The People’). This was founded in May 1859 by the Communist Workers’ Educational Association to replace a previous title, Die neue Zeit (‘The New Age’) which had recently folded. Again, Marx was initially only a contributor, but he very much approved of the paper (and of its strong opposition to Kinkel) and gradually sought to increase his influence on it. Although never officially its editor, he was effectively carrying out the role by mid-July, with Engels helping the venture financially. As Das Volk became increasingly a mouthpiece for Marx’s ideas it began to lose readers, and it closed in August. Marx, with typical self-confidence, blamed the paper’s demise on its readers’ failure to appreciate the quality of his work. He was also convinced that Kinkel was deliberately working to sabotage potential rivals to Hermann.

Whether by fair means or foul, Hermann certainly thrived. Kinkel’s name was seen as a guarantee of quality to many fellow exiles as well as to other Germans immigrants and even to some British readers. Although the paper promoted broadly liberal politics, it also reported on arts and culture and, crucially, on the activities of German clubs, organisations and institutions in Britain. Das Volk had initially also covered the latter, but this declined under Marx’s control, alienating readers who wanted a more general newspaper for their community. Kinkel and Herrmann also made much of the celebrations in November 1859 of Friedrich Schiller’s centenary, an event that transcended political allegiances and helped unite Germans in Britain in a show of cultural pride.

Illustrated page from Hermann issue 44, 12 November 1859, with portraits of Schiller’s parents and wife as part of an article about the 1859 London Schiller Festival 

Hermann would survive, under different editors and with changes in its political direction, into the 20th century, the longest run of any Anglo-German newspaper. Only the ban on German publishing in Britain on the outbreak of war in 1914 put an end to its appearance.

Susan Reed, Lead Curator Germanic Collections

References/further reading:

Christine Lattek, Revolutionary Refugees: German Socialism in Britain, 1840-1860 (London, 2006) YC.2007.a.3912

Susan Reed, ‘A modest sentinel for German interests in England: The Anglo-German Press in the Long Nineteenth Century’ in Stéphanie Prévost and Bénédicte Deschamps (eds.), Immigration and Exile Foreign-Language Press in the UK and the US: Connected Histories of the 19th and 20th Centuries (London, 2024) [Not yet catalogued]

On 15 November we are hosting a conference on European Political exiles and émigrés in Britain. This is one of a series of blog posts on the same topic. Conference details can be found here. Attendance is free, but registration is required.

For those forced to leave their homeland, a library is far more than just a building filled with books—it becomes a lifeline. Traditionally, libraries have served as essential repositories of knowledge, but during times of upheaval, exile and displacement, they transform into symbols of cultural survival. For many Polish people who found themselves in London after the Second World War and throughout the communist era, these cultural spaces provided not only archives of their heritage but also comfort, community, and hope for a better future.

The Polish diaspora in London stands as a testament to the power of cultural institutions. Polish libraries, archives and publishing houses in the city have been pivotal in preserving cultural heritage, fostering identity and offering emotional and intellectual sustenance to exiles and migrants. These organizations, both large and small, played a crucial role in helping Polish people stay connected to their roots despite being far from home. The establishment of the Polish government-in-exile in London further solidified the community’s presence, spurring the growth of cultural and educational institutions.

Even before these organizations fully developed, displaced Poles found refuge in the reading rooms of the British Museum Library (later the British Library), which became a vital support system for the Polish diaspora. As exiles fleeing Nazi and Soviet occupations arrived in the UK, they found themselves cut off from their homeland and the cultural materials that connected them to it. The British Museum Library became an essential resource, providing access to Polish books, newspapers and historical documents that were otherwise inaccessible during the war.

The library played an especially important role in supporting Polish intellectuals, writers, and journalists working in exile. Among them was Mieczysław Grydzewski, a prominent journalist and editor, who relied heavily on its resources. Grydzewski edited Wiadomości Polskie (later Wiadomości), a journal that served as a critical platform for Polish writers and intellectuals throughout the war and post-war years. For Grydzewski and others, the British Museum Library was indispensable in their efforts to maintain Polish literary and journalistic traditions while in exile.

Mieczysław Grydzewski at the British Museum Library. Illustration from Listy (Warsaw, 2022) YF.2023.a.3958

Faced with limited access to Polish literary works in wartime London, Grydzewski often had to transcribe passages from books only available at the Library. By the end of 1940, his reliance on these resources was so great that the institution allowed him to set up an additional desk in one of its corridors, where a secretary assisted him in copying texts. Together, they diligently transcribed important passages from authors such as the chronicler Jan Długosz (see the book: Vita beatissimi Stanislai Cracoviensis episcopi. Nec nō legende sanctorum Polonie Hungarie Bohemie Moravie Prussie et Slesie patronorum, in lombardica historia nō contente. (Kraków, 1511) C.110.d.8.) and many modern writers. These excerpts were then prepared for typesetting and publication, ensuring that Polish literature and history continued to reach the diaspora despite the conflict.

Other distinguished Polish scholars also relied on the British Museum Library during this period. Maria Danilewiczowa, who would later become director of the Polish Library in London, conducted much of her research there, as did General Marian Kukiel, a historian and military figure whose work on Polish military history greatly benefited from the Library’s extensive collections. Similarly, Stefan Westfal, known for his linguistic analysis of Polish (Rzecz o Polszczyźnie (London, 1956) 012977.l.4.), and Tadeusz Sulimirski, who edited a journal Biuletyn Zachodnio-Słowiański, drew heavily from the British Museum Library’s resources. Their research contributed to the preservation and enrichment of Polish intellectual life in exile.

Biuletyn Zachodnio-Słowiański (Edinburgh, 1940- )PP.3554.nem]

The British Library’s holdings include many valuable works essential to maintaining Poland’s cultural memory. Among them are rare historical texts, literary works, and political documents preserved from before the war. The library’s Polonica collection is particularly rich, encompassing key texts in Polish history, literature, and law, as well as works by 19th-century Polish poets and political figures who fought for the country’s independence. During the communist era, post-war émigré publications, including materials related to the Solidarity movement and other dissident groups, connected the diaspora with ongoing struggles in Poland. Today, after democratic changes, our contemporary collections continue to keep the Polish diaspora in touch with current developments in the country.

Olga Topol, Curator Slavonic and East European Collections

 

On 15 November we are hosting a conference on European Political exiles and émigrés in Britain. This is one of a series of blog posts on the same topic. Conference details can be found here. Attendance is free, but registration is required.

Dimitrije Mitrinović (1887-1953) was a noteworthy figure in the cultural and philosophical circles of the early 20th century, who left a lasting impact on both European thought and the communities he engaged with.

Mitrinović in 1920 (Image from Wikimedia Commons)

Born in Bosnia-Herzegovina, Mitrinović’s early activism centred on the struggle for independence from the Austro-Hungarian Empire and the vision of a united Yugoslavia. His educational background in art history in Munich further cultivated his intellectual pursuits.

With the outbreak of the First World War, he relocated to England in 1914, securing a position with the Serbian Legation in London. Mitrinović quickly integrated into influential cultural circles on the European continent and in England. He contributed extensively to The New Age, a radical journal, writing under the pseudonym M. M. Cosmoi, where he addressed ‘World Affairs’. His commentary often reflected his vision of a new stage in human development, emphasising the importance of recognising the complementary roles of various ethnic, religious, and social groups. He believed that societal conflicts could be resolved through intermediation, guided by a deep re-evaluation of historical wisdom in fields such as religion, philosophy, psychology, and the arts.

In England, Mitrinović established himself as a private philosophy teacher in London’s Bloomsbury. He gathered a significant library filled with annotated works, which he shared with his followers. This collection was crucial for those studying with him, as it facilitated an exploration of diverse intellectual traditions.

Front cover of an essay about Mitrinović by Nenad V. Petrović (Windsor, Ontario, 1967), X.900/10994.

He also founded the English Branch of the International Society for Individual Psychology in 1927, focusing on the teachings of Alfred Adler. The group’s practical approach to psychological studies led to the creation of the Chandos Group and later, in 1931, the New Europe Group.

The New Europe Group advocated for a federal Europe with a decentralised political system and a renewed cultural consciousness. This vision expanded with the formation of the New Britain Movement in 1932, which proposed comprehensive societal reforms, including national changes, financial restructuring, and workers’ control through national unions.

Title page of Andrew Rigby, Initiation and Initiative: an Exploration of the Life and Ideas of Dimitrije Mitrinović (New York, 1984; X.529/70412), which draws from Predrag Palavestra, Dogma i utopija Dimitrija Mitrinovića: počeci srpske književne avangarde (Belgrade, 1977; X.989/88735) and the Archives of New Atlantis Foundation, Ditchling, East Sussex.

While the New Britain Movement dissolved in the mid-1930s, the New Europe Group persisted into the 1950s, promoting cultural activities through the Renaissance Club, which hosted lectures and concerts.

From the late 1930s, Mitrinović focused on fostering personal development, gender studies, spiritual growth and mutual self-exploration among a close circle of friends and associates, all aspiring to the ideal of the ‘cosmopolitan citizen’.

A portrait of Mitrinović in London, from Andrew Rigby, Initiation and Initiative...

After Mitrinović's death in 1953, a group of his closest friends established the New Atlantis Foundation (later renamed the Mitrinović Foundation), to preserve and promote his cultural and social philosophy, carrying his legacy forward. One of the Foundation’s early actions was to donate a substantial portion of Mitrinović’s annotated books to the University of Belgrade. This collection is held at the Svetozar Marković University Library in Belgrade. In 1994, the Foundation donated the Mitrinović Library to the University of Bradford, where it remains an important resource for researchers in Special Collections. The Mitrinović Archive, including documents from the New Europe Group and related organizations, was also donated to the University of Bradford in 2003 and 2004.

Title page of Certainly, future, edited by H.C. Rutherford (New York, 1987; YC.1988.a.9005), a selection of Mitrinović’s articles originally published in the journals Bosanska vila (1913), The New Age (1920-21), New Britain (1933), Purpose (1934), and his editorials published in New Britain, New Europe, New Atlantis and Eleventh Hour (1933-35).

Mitrinović’s intellectual legacy, preserved through the activities of the Mitrinović Foundation, continues to resonate with those interested in the intersection of culture, philosophy, and social change. His efforts to foster dialogue, personal transformation, and cultural re-evaluation remain significant, highlighting a vision of a more integrated and conscious society.

Milan Grba, Lead Curator South-East European Collections

References/further reading:

Dimitrije Mitrinović, The Religion of Logos and Sophia from the writings of Dimitrije Mitrinović on Christianity. 12th New Atlantis Foundation lecture, 1966 (London, 1968), X.0529/21.(12.).

Dimitrije Mitrinović, Sabrana djela [Collected works], edited by Predrag Palavestra (Sarajevo, 1991), 3 vols. ZF.9.a.10589.

Dimitrije Mitrinović, Lectures 1926-1950 (Bradford, 1995), YC.1996.b.2972.

Predrag Palavestra, Dogma i utopija Dimitrija Mitrinovića: počeci srpske književne avangarde (Belgrade, 2003), 2nd rev. ed. YF.2006.a.13809.

Dimitrije Mitrinović, Treća sila (Čačak, 2004), YF.2006.a.22892.

Andrew Rigby, Dimitrije Mitrinović: a biography (York, 2006), 2nd ed. YK.2007.a.20791.

Dragana Mihailović, Stvaralačka kritika Dimitrija Mitrinovića (Belgrade, 2008), YF.2011.a.1677.

Slađana Milenković, Pesničkim stazama Dimitrija Mitrinovića (Sremska Mitrovica, 2009), YF.2018.a.5443.

Andrew Rigby, ‘Mitrinović, Dimitrije (1887–1953)’, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, (Oxford, 2013), YC.2013.b.2479.

See also a Serbian Public Service broadcast programme from 2021 (In Serbian): Dimitrije Mitrinović: From a Teacher of National Energy to a Cultural James Bond

 

Join us on Friday 15 November 2024 for the ‘European Political Refugees in the UK from 1800’ conference taking place in Pigott Theatre, Knowledge Centre at the British Library. This one-day in-person event will explore the rich history of political refugees from Europe who sought asylum in the UK from the 19th century onwards. International academics, scholars, and curators will investigate how European diaspora communities have woven themselves into the fabric of British society, fostering intercultural exchange and contributing to the shaping of modern Britain.

‘European Political Refugees in the UK from 1800’ conference poster

The conference is organised by the European Collections section of the British Library in partnership with the European Union National Institutes of Culture (EUNIC) London. It will be accompanied by the exhibition ‘Music, Migration, and Mobility: The Story of Émigré Musicians from Nazi Europe in Britain’ and by events run by the conference partners.

The event is open to all and attendance is free, but registration is required. Booking details can be found here.

Programme

10:00 Welcome

10:05 Session 1: Artists

Moderator: Olga Topol, British Library

‘Leaving Home’ – Franciszka Themerson and Her Artistic Community in the UK, Jasia Reichardt, Art Critic and Curator

Austrian Musicians and Writers in Exile in the 1930s and 1940s, Oliver Rathkolb, University of Vienna and Vienna Institute of Contemporary and Cultural History and Art (VICCA)

On the Rock of Exiles: Victor Hugo in the Channel Islands, Bradley Stephens, University of Bristol

Music, Migration & Mobility, The Story of Émigré Musicians from Nazi Europe in Britain, Norbert Meyn, Royal College of Music, London

12:00 The stone that spoke screening

Introduction by Gail Borrow, ExploreTheArch arts facilitated by EUNIC London

12:15 Lunch

13:00 Session 2: Governments in Exile

Moderator: Valentina Mirabella, British Library

London Exile of the Yugoslav Government during the Second World War and its Internal Problems, Milan Sovilj, Institute of History of the Czech Academy of Sciences, Prague

The Spanish Republican Exile in Great Britain: General Characteristics and the case of Roberto Gerhard, Mari Paz Balibrea, Birkbeck, University of London

Fascism and anti-fascism in London's 'Little Italy' and Giacomo Matteotti's secret visit to London in 1924, Alfio Bernabei, Historian and Author

14:30 Break

14:45 Session 3: Building Communities

Moderator: Katya Rogatchevskaia, British Library

Tefcros Anthias: poet, writer, activist, and public intellectual in Cyprus and the Cypriot Community in London, Floya Anthias, University of Roehampton, London

The Journeys in Stories: Jewish emigration from Lithuania via United Kingdom, Dovilė Čypaitė-Gilė, Vilna Gaon, Museum of Jewish History, Vilnius University

Political migration from Hungary, 1918-1956, Thomas Lorman, UCL's School of Slavonic and East European Studies, London

16:15 Break

16:30 – 17:00 Session 4: Writing Diaspora

Moderator: Anthony Chapman-Joy, Royal Holloway, University of London, British Library

Newspapers published by 19th-century German political exiles in England, Susan Reed, British Library

Clandestine WWII pamphlets, Marja Kingma, British Library

We look forward to welcoming you to the conference in November. In the meantime, we invite you to discover a new display of works by Franciszka Themerson ‘Walking Backwards’, currently on show at Tate Britain, and to explore the history of Lithuanian Jewish immigration to the UK at the annual Litvak Days in London.

The year was 1908. The shock waves of the 1905 Revolution still reverberated throughout the Russian Empire when two letters from an Indian revolutionary Taraknath Das reached Leo Tolstoy at home in Iasnaia Poliana. Das wrote to the ailing Tolstoy, then a world-renowned author, pacifist and anarchist, asking for his support for India’s liberation from British colonial rule. Das’s appeal prompted the 80-year-old Russian writer to pen a lengthy response expressing his sympathy with the oppressed and advocating for nonviolence as the only justifiable form of resistance. It was not the answer Das had hoped for, but when the letter was published, it immediately struck a chord with a young Indian lawyer grappling with racial and social injustices in Johannesburg, Mohandas Gandhi. He was so impressed by Tolstoy’s logic that he sought his permission to translate the letter into Gujarati and to republish it in South Africa. Although the two never met, they continued to exchange letters and ideas until Tolstoy's death in 1910. Their shared philosophy of peace, tolerance, and nonresistance to evil inspired such prominent political leaders as Martin Luther King, Jr, Nelson Mandela, and the Dalai Lama. The letter to Das, mailed from Iasnaia Poliana on December 14, 1908, was about to influence the course of history on the Indian subcontinent.

Cover of Osvobozhdenie narodov: Pisʹmo Indusu by Leo Tolstoy (Iasnaia Poliana, 190?) RB.23.a.32254 and a photograph of
Mahatma Gandhi (Image from Wikipedia)

In the appendices of his book Indian Home Rule, Gandhi listed twenty books that impacted him as a political and spiritual leader. Tellingly, the first six works are all by Tolstoy, and the 5000-word missive published by Das as A Letter to a Hindu (AKA A Letter to a Hindoo; Pis’mo Indusu, 1908) is among them. In it, Tolstoy argues that only by overcoming the urge to retaliate and abiding by the principle of love and compassion for the enemy could the Indian people shake off the colonial yoke. He admonishes: “Do not resist the evil-doer and take no part in doing so, either in the violent deeds of the administration, in the law courts, the collection of taxes, or above all in soldiering, and no one in the world will be able to enslave you.” According to the author, only peaceful resistance epitomised by civil disobedience could break the cycle of violence perpetuating injustice and feeding hatred. He marvels at how a commercial company was able to enslave “two hundred millions of clever, capable, freedom-loving people” and concludes that the numbers speak for themselves: “it is not the English who have enslaved the Indians, but the Indians who have enslaved themselves.”

Tolstoy’s definition of violence is broad, encompassing inequitable distribution of authority, power and wealth, as well as violation of one’s conscience. He divides the letter into short chapters, each of which opens with a range of ethical sources, including the Bible, quotations from the Vedas, and passages from Krishna.

Opening pages of Tolstoy’s Pis’mo Indusu 

He warns against false ideologies, both religious and pseudo-scientific, that promote the use of violence and the necessity of war, distorting the sheer truth that it is “natural for men to help and to love one another, but not to torture and kill one another”. At the core of Tolstoy’s Christianity is the Sermon on the Mount, which he sees as a complete justification for nonresistance to evil. His literal reading of Jesus’s commandment to ‘turn the other cheek’ led to his questioning social, political and religious assumptions, including the authority of the state, the credibility of the Church, and the justifications of both for waging violence. Tolstoy admits that overthrowing oppressive regimes is not an easy task. Nonviolence, unlike physical force, requires great courage and readiness to expose oneself to political violence and unjust treatment.

Another book that profoundly affected Gandhi’s thought formation was Tolstoy’s Christian anarchist philosophical treatise, ‘The Kingdom of God is Within You’ (Tsarstvo Bozhie Vnutri Vas, 1894). Banned in Russia for its espousal of Jesus’s nonviolent resistance teachings as true gospel, it inspired Gandhi to set up a community devoted to love, work, and simple living, known as Tolstoy Farm. He reflected on the impact the book had on him in his 1928 speech commemorating Tolstoy’s death: “At that time, I was skeptical about many things… I was a votary of violence. I had faith in it and none in nonviolence. After I read this book, lack of faith in nonviolence vanished.”

Title page of Tsarstvo Bozhie Vnutri Vas (London, 1898) 3926.bb.50.

In ‘The Kingdom of God is Within You’, Tolstoy objects to the idea of Russian religious nationality as the rationale for political repressions inside Russia and imperialist oppression internationally. He points the finger at the corrupt union of religion and autocratic political power that coerces men to join the army and take part in unjust wars. Tolstoy is especially critical of conscription, which he sees as an extreme abuse of power and a form of slavery. He also opposes any form of modern patriotism but is not blind to the differences between oppressor and oppressed: “A Russian should rejoice if Poland, the Baltic Provinces, Finland, Armenia, should be separated, freed from Russia (...) The greater the state, the more wrong and cruel its patriotism, and the greater is the sum of suffering upon which its power is founded.” Tolstoy asserts that the eponymous Kingdom of God could only be found inside the self and outside the state-run church with its stupefying rituals and ceremonies.

Tolstoy’s essay ‘The First Step’ (also known as ‘The Morals of Diet’; Pervaia stupen’, 1892) helped to shape Gandhi’s views on ahimsa, an ancient ethical principle of not causing harm to other living beings. It was instrumental in convincing Gandhi to maintain his vegetarian diet. The essay was published as a preface to a book by Howard Williams, The Ethics of Diet, which Tolstoy translated into Russian. It is likely the 19th century’s most important statement on the subject. 

Cover of Tolstoy’s Pervaia stupen’ (Moscow, 1906) YA.2001.a.3749

The principle of nonviolence and refusal to participate in coercion is at the core of Tolstoyan vegetarianism. He views slaughtering and eating animals as “simply immoral, as it involves the performance of an act which is contrary to the moral feeling—killing; and is called forth only by greediness and the desire for tasty food.” While the pamphlet advocates for animal rights, it also takes on a religious tone, underscoring the need for self-abnegation, fasting, and renouncing worldliness. One can and should control bodily desires by exercising moderation, restraint and hard work, and refraining from eating animal flesh is the first step towards a moral life. Tolstoy concludes the piece with a bold statement that the killing and eating of animals compromise the ability of men to feel pity and compassion for fellow human beings.

Tolstoy enjoying a vegetarian meal (Image from Wikipedia)

Tolstoy’s philosophical and polemical works have often been deemed rigid and doctrinaire, becoming a neglected footnote to the widely acclaimed War and Peace and Anna Karenina. Nevertheless, their message is disturbingly relevant today as the world faces a swelling tide of imperial violence with Russia's brutal war against Ukraine. The question once posed by George Orwell: “Is there a Gandhi in Russia at this moment? And if there is, what is he accomplishing?” remains open. Orwell had no illusions - in a country without a free press and the right of assembly, where “opponents of the regime disappear in the middle of the night and are never heard of again”, practising civil disobedience is a perilous exercise incapable of bringing a mass movement into being. While Russia is waiting for its Mahatma, dissenting voices and peaceful anti-war protests inside the country command the utmost respect and give hope for change. Gandhi prescribes patience: “You need not be afraid that the method of nonviolence is a slow long-drawn-out process. It is the swiftest the world has seen, for it is the surest.”

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

References/further reading:

Charlotte Alston, Tolstoy and his disciples : the history of a radical international movement (London, 2014) YC.2014.a.11549

Imraan Coovadia, Revolution and non-violence in Tolstoy, Gandhi, and Mandela (Oxford, 2020) YC.2022.a.1259

Gandhi, Leo Tolstoy, Mahatma Gandhi and Leo Tolstoy letters (Long Beach, California, 1987) 

Ramin Jahanbegloo, Introduction to nonviolence (Basingstoke, 2014) SPIS303.61

Ilacai and Rajesh, V. Maniyan, The Russian Revolution and India (London, 2020) ELD.DS.554272

Tony Milligan, Civil disobedience: protest, justification, and the law (New York, 2013) m13/.13487

Keith Gessen, George Packer, George Orwell, All art is propaganda: critical essays (Boston, 2009) ELD.DS.678441

David A. J. Richards, Disarming manhood: roots of ethical resistance (Athens, OH, 2005) YK.2007.a.20263

Patricia M. Shields, Jane Addams: progressive pioneer of peace, philosophy, sociology, social work and public administration (Cham, 2017) ELD.DS.351903

Leo Tolstoy, A Letter to a Hindu (from Project Gutenberg)

Bryan S. Turner, War and peace: essays on religion, violence, and space (London, 2013) ELD.DS.83774

On Thursday 26 September the novelist, biographer and columnist A.N. Wilson will be discussing his new book The Life of Goethe with Emeritus Professor Paul Hamilton at an event in the British Library’s Pigott Theatre. Full event and booking details can be found here. Meanwhile, to get you in a Goethe mood, we take a look at the book that first brought him international fame.

September 1774 saw the appearance of the 25-year-old Johann Wolfgang Goethe’s first novel, Die Leiden des jungen Werthers (The Sorrows of Young Werther). Goethe had already become famous in Germany with his play Götz von Berlichingen, published the previous year, but the novel was to make his name throughout Europe.

Title-page of the first edition of Die Leiden des jungen Werthers (Leipzig, 1774) C.58.bb.12

The novel is mainly narrated in letters from the eponymous Werther to his friend Wilhelm. It tells the story of Werther’s doomed love for Lotte, a woman who seems to reciprocate his feelings but is betrothed to another man, Albert, as was her mother’s dying wish. When he realises that he can neither suppress his love for Lotte nor prevent her marriage, Werther leaves town to take up a post at court, but returns after a few unhappy months. Lotte and Albert are now married but Werther continues to visit Lotte, becoming ever more tormented by his feelings for her. After an emotional encounter where Werther embraces and kisses Lotte, she sends him away. Having already decided that only his, Lotte’s or Albert’s death can resolve the situation between them, Werther decides to kill himself. An afterword by the supposed editor of the letters tells of Werther’s suicide and its aftermath.

Werther at his writing-desk, engraving by J. Buckland Wright from a Halcyon Press edition of  Die Leiden des jungen Werthers (Maastricht, 1931) C.115.s.26.

The novel was a huge success. It combined the time-honoured genre of the tragic love story with the contemporary cult of ‘sensibility’, featuring a protagonist who is guided entirely by his emotions. There were also titillating hints that the story was based on true events: Goethe had indeed drawn on his own brief infatuation with Charlotte Buff, who was engaged to his friend Johann Christian Kestner, and on the suicide of a colleague, Karl Wilhelm Jerusalem, who was hopelessly in love with a married woman. A pamphlet published in 1775 identified the ‘real’ locations and characters, albeit only by initials in the case of the characters. Nonetheless, the book’s fame brought some unwanted attention to these ‘originals’. Jerusalem’s grave even became a place of pilgrimage for Werther fans.

Pages from H. von Breidenbach, Berichtigung der Geschichte des jungen Werthers (Frankfurt & Leipzig, 1775; 12547.a.20.)  identifiyng the setting of the novel as a village near Wetzlar and the surname of Lotte’s father as beginning with B rather than S. (Image from a copy in the Staatsbibliothek Bamberg)

A French translation of Werther appeared in 1775 and translations into other European languages, including English (initially via the French version) in 1779, soon followed. As well as German, French and English, the British Library holds editions in Afrikaans, Danish, Esperanto, Hungarian, Italian, Latvian, Romanian, Russian, Spanish and Swedish. 

Title-pages of early French, English and Italian translations of Die Leiden des jungen Werther 

The novel also spawned a wave of imitations, critiques, parodies, continuations and dramatizations, and was represented in other media. Illustrations of scenes from the story decorated crockery and playing cards, and a handbill from 1785 in the British Library’s collections (1850.c.10.(151.)) announces that “At Mrs. Salmon’s Royal Historical Wax-work ... Is to be seen the ... Group of the Death of Werter, attended by Charlotte and her Family.” Fashionable young men adopted Werther’s outfit of a blue tailcoat with a yellow waistcoat and breeches, although stories of a wave of copycat suicides while so dressed are almost certainly exaggerated. Werther’s name could even be used to sell unrelated works: a German translation of Isaac D’Israeli’s Mejnoun and Leila, a retelling of an Arabic story, was entitled Der arabische Werther (‘The Arabian Werther’).

Title-page of Confidential Letters of Albert; from his first attachment to Charlotte to her death (London, 1790) RB.23.a.18744. The work has been variously attributed to John Armstrong and Mary Eden

A popular form of ‘Wertheriad’ presented letters from other characters, such as William James’s The Letters of Charlotte during her Connexion with Werter (early English editions generally dropped the h of Werther) or The Confidential Letters of Albert. August Cornelius Stockmann’s Die Leiden der jungen Wertherinn (‘The Sorrows of the young female Werther’), although its title suggests a version with the gender roles reversed, similarly retells the story from Lotte’s perspective although not in epistolary form. However, the French novelist Pierre Perrin’s Werthérie (translated into English as The Female Werter) was the story of a woman tragically obsessed with a married man.

Title-page and frontispiece of Pierre Perrin, Werthérie (Paris, 1791) 1074.h.32. (Image from a copy in the Bayerische Staatsibliothek)

Another common theme in both poetry and art was Lotte mourning at Werther’s grave. The original story leaves her own fate uncertain, saying that her grief and shock at Werther’s death made her family fear for her life, and some continuations do indeed have her dying also, but the idea of her rallying at least enough to visit the grave was clearly irresistible.

Title page of Carl Ernst von Reizenstein, Lotte bey Werthers Grab (‘Wahlheim’, 1775) 11521.aa.14. (Image from a copy in the Staatsbibliothek Bamberg)

Illustrators were also fond of depicting the famous scene where Werther first sees Lotte as she butters and cuts slices of bread for her younger siblings. This was also popular with the parodists, and bookends William Thackeray’s famous satirical verses about the story. 

Werther meets Lotte as she cuts slices of buttered bread for her younger siblings. Engraving by Daniel Chodowiecki. (Image from Wikimedia Commons)

Despite (or perhaps because of) its popularity, many commentators criticised the work, and in particular Werther’s extreme emotions and his suicide. A popular riposte to Goethe’s work was Friedrich Nicolai’s Freuden des jungen Werthers (‘Joys of Young Werther’). Here Albert renounces Lotte, who marries Werther. Things do not at first go smoothly, and the remarkably tolerant Albert has to act as marriage counsellor, but Werther gradually becomes practical and responsible. The story ends with him and his family happily cultivating their garden in good Voltairean fashion.

Title page of Friedrich Nicolai, Freuden des jungen Werthers: Leiden und Freuden Werthers des Mannes (Berlin, 1775) 12547.aaa.8. (Image from a copy in the Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin)

The economist Johann August Schlettwein wrote two pamphlets criticising Goethe’s work, one of which is couched as a letter from Werther, now suffering the torments of damnation, appealing to others not to follow his example. Ernst August Anton von Göchhausen, in his Das Werther-Fieber (‘The Werther Fever’) shows a family divided over the story – daughter Sibylle is dangerously obsessed, but the rest of the family consider Werther a fool (which I must admit was my own assessment reading the novel as an undergraduate!).

Title-page of Ernst August Anton von Göchhausen, Das Werther-Fieber, eine unvollendetes Familienstück (Nieder-Teutschland [i.e Leipzig], 1776) 12547.b.5. (Image from a copy in the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek)

Goethe would later distance himself from Werther as he left behind the wild enthusiasm of his youthful ‘Sturm und Drang’ works and embraced a more measured classicism. A revised version published in 1787 gave the editor more of a voice and made Albert more sympathetic, somewhat counterbalancing Werther’s emotionalism. But even after it had passed the peak of its popularity, Werther continued to be much read, and it inspired literary responses into the 20th century. Thomas Mann’s Lotte in Weimar (1939) is a fictional retelling of the real-life encounter between Charlotte Kestner (née Buff) and Goethe 42 years after the publication of Werther, while Ulrich Plenzdorf’s Die neuen Leiden des jungen W. (The New Sorrows of Young W.) maps Goethe’s novel onto the story of a disaffected young man in 1960s East Germany. And in the 21st century the story has been reinvented as a graphic novel in a contemporary setting, Werther Reloaded.

Cover of Franziska Walther, Werther reloaded: nach dem Roman ‘Die Leiden des jungen Werther’ von Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (Mannheim, 2016) YF.2016.b.2045  

250 years after its first appearance, Werther may no longer have the powerful appeal that it had at the time,  but the novel still stands as a literary classic and a offers glimpse into a particular mindset that briefly held sway over romantically inclined readers in the late 18th century.

References/Further reading 

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Les souffrances du jeune Werther, translated by Karl Siegmund von Seckendorff (Erlangen, 1886) 244.e.10.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, The Sorrows of Werter: a German Story, translated by Richard Graves (London, 1779) 12555.a.34.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Werther, opera di sentimento, translated by Gaetano Grassi (Poschiavo, 1782) 012553.e.35.

Isaac Disraeli, Der Arabische Werther, oder Mejnun und Leila, eine romantische Erzählung für Liebende (Leipzig, 1804) 12618.a.45. 

William James, The letters of Charlotte, during her connexion with Werter (Dublin, 1786) 1489.g.7.

August Cornelius Stockmann, Die Leiden der jungen Wertherinn (Eisenach, 1775) 12547.b.6.

“Diesem viehischen Trieb ergeben”: J. A. Schlettweins Kritik an Goethes Werther: Briefe an eine Freundinn über die Leiden des jungen Werthers (1775), Des jungen Werthers Zuruf aus der Ewigkeit an die noch lebende Menschen auf der Erde (1775), herausgegeben von Volker Hoenerbach. (Hamburg 2009) YF.2012.a.7890

Johann August Schlettwein, Werther in die Hölle (Frankfurt am Main, 1775) 8630.b.2.(5.) (A reissue of his Briefe an eine Freundinn über die Leiden des jungen Werthers with new introductory material)

Thomas Mann, Lotte in Weimar (Stockholm, 1939) YA.1989.a.3081 

Ulrich Plenzdorf, Die neuen Leiden des jungen W. (Frankfurt am Main, 1973)  X.908/27279.

Robyn L. Schiffman, ‘A Concert of Werthers’, Eighteenth-Century Studies, vol. 43, no. 2 (2010), pp. 207-222  P.901/754

Karol Sauerland, ‘Wertherfieber’, European History Online Website

 

A selection of other early responses, adaptations and imitations from the BL collections:

Heinrich Leopold Wagner, Prometheus Deukalion und seine Recensenten (Hamburg, 1775) 11746.c.35. (A satire on reviewers of Die Leiden des jungen Werthers)

Heinrich Gottfried von Bretschneider, Eine entsetzliche Mordgeschichte von dem jungen Werther ([s.l.], 1776) 12547.aaa.9. (A free adaptation of the original)

Man denkt verschieden bey Werthers Leiden. Ein Schauspiel in drey Aufzügen (s.l., 1779) 11745.c.1.

Edward Taylor, Werter to Charlotte: a Poem (Lonndon, 1784) 11632.d.49.(1.)

Jean-Marie-Jérôme Fleuriot, Le Nouveau Werther, imité de l’Allemand (Neuchâtel, 1786) 12547.c.8.

Elizabeth Sophia Tomlins, The Victim of Fancy (London, 2009) YC.2010.a.15559 (Originally published 1786; French translation, La Victime de l’imagination, ou l’enthousiaste de Werther (Paris, 1795?) Ch.790/127.)

Eglantine Wallace, A Letter to a Friend, with a poem called the Ghost of Werter (London, 1787) 11632.h.16. 

George Wright, The unfortunate lovers, abridged from the Sorrows of Werter ... (London, 1788) RB.23.a.8495

Sarah Farrell, Charlotte, or, A sequel to the sorrows of Werther ... and other poems (Bath, 1792) 11642.h.17.

Amelia Pickering, The Sorrows of Werter: a Poem (London, 1788) 1346.m.11.

Joseph Antoine de Gourbillon, Stellino, ou le Nouveau Werther (Paris, 1791)

Werter and Charlotte. A German story containing many wonderful and pathetic incidents (London, 1800?) 12611.ee.32.(4.) (A loose adaptation of the original)

Carl Phillip Bonafont, Der neue Werther, oder Gefühl und Liebe (Nuremberg, 1804) 12547.cc.11.

James Bell, Letters from Wetzlar, written in 1817, developing the authentic particulars on which the “Sorrows of Werter” are founded (London, 1821) 11851.c.7. 

Georges Duval, Le Retour de Werther, ou les derniers épanchemens de la sensibilité, comédie en un acte, mêlée de vaudevilles (Paris, 1821) 11738.e.16.(10.) 

 

An anonymous and undated poem beginning ‘Cold in this tomb the dust of Werter lies’ C.116.g.22.(2.)

The digitisation and preservation of over 10,000 old photographs, negatives and glass plates in the British Library’s Endangered Archives Programme was a significant project completed in 2006.

The photographic collections of the Ethnographic Institute and Museum, housed in the old royal palace in Sofia, are a treasure trove, comprising 10,000 black-and-white and colour photonegatives, alongside 5,000 photographs, and an additional 5,000 plates. These visual records offer a vivid glimpse into various facets of Bulgarian culture and heritage.

A farmhouse in the village Glozhene, Teteven district, Bulgaria [1956]. Creator: N. Nikolov EAP103/1/1/1.

Capturing a wide array of subjects, these photographs provide invaluable insights into traditional Bulgarian costume, architectural marvels, ceremonial rituals, women's traditional dresses, as well as the everyday customs and lifestyle of the Bulgarian village. They serve as meticulous documentation, facilitating a comprehensive and objective reconstruction of lost cultural phenomena, agricultural tools, folk-style artefacts, and national attire.

Market in Teteven district (Central Bulgaria). Date: 1956. Creator: N. Nikolov EAP103/1/1/4.

By preserving and showcasing these images, the project intended to safeguard a rich tapestry of cultural heritage for future generations. This extensive visual documentation not only offers a glimpse into the past but also serves as a vital resource for understanding the socio-economic dynamics and cultural evolution of Bulgarians during the pre-industrial era.

Photograph from a wedding in Bulgaria. Bulgarian women in traditional costumes. Date: 1962. Creator: G. Vaisilov. EAP103/1/1/76.

Furthermore, these collections represent a unique repository of information, presenting a perspective on Bulgarian life that, as the project concludes, is unparalleled by any other archive in Bulgaria. Through this project, the Ethnographic Institute and Museum endeavours to ensure that this invaluable and diverse cultural heritage remains accessible and appreciated for years to come.

Photographs of boys and girls in traditional costumes. Date: 1962. Creator: G. Vaisilov. EAP103/1/1/80

Digital copies of photographs dating back to the mid-20th century form an integral part of the Ethnographic Institute and Museum archive, compiled as a result of extensive ethnographic, historical, and artistic research activities. These photographs give a multifaceted glimpse into various aspects of Bulgarian culture and society during that period. 

Photograph of two researchers standing at the entrance of a building in Tikhomir village, Kirkovo district. The sign above the entrance reads: ‘Narodno chitalishte’ (Community’s reading centre). Communist slogans are written on the wall next to the entrance of the building. Date: 1962. Creator: N. Nikolov. EAP103/1/1/85.

Among the diverse subjects captured in these images are rural architectural structures providing insights into the building environment of Bulgaria during the mid-20th century. Bulgarian material culture is presented in visual records showcasing a wide array of pottery, tools, kitchen utensils, and other artefacts, offering a glimpse into the craftsmanship of the region.

A girl carrying fresh water in water buckets. Popsko village, Ivailovgrad district. Date: 1962. Creator: N. Nikolov. EAP103/1/1/88.

The photographs capture scenic vistas and natural landscapes, showing the beauty and diversity of Bulgaria's geographical terrain. These photographs are records of religious structures, icons, and artefacts, reflecting the spiritual and cultural significance of religion in Bulgarian society.

Ploughing in Pastrotsi village, Ivailovgrad district. Date: 1962. Creator: N. Nikolov. EAP103/1/1/89.

The images portray traditional Bulgarian cuisine, food markets, and culinary practices, providing a window into gastronomic traditions and dietary habits. There are photographs capturing festive celebrations, traditional rituals, and cultural ceremonies, illustrating the rich tapestry of Bulgarian customs and traditions. The photographs are visual documentation of traditional Bulgarian attire and costumes, showcasing the diversity and intricacies of regional dress. There are also reproductions or photographs of paintings, illustrations, or artistic representations relevant to Bulgarian culture and history.

A woman in a mill in Teteven region (Central Bulgaria). Date: c 1956. Creator: N. Nikolov. EAP103/1/1/8.

These digital copies serve as invaluable resources for researchers, scholars, and enthusiasts alike, offering a comprehensive visual archive of Bulgarian life and culture during the mid-20th century. Through digitization, the project aimed to preserve these cultural artefacts for posterity and ensure their accessibility to future generations.

Women in a village are getting ready for the wedding in Teteven region (Central Bulgaria). Date: c 1956. Creator: N. Nikolov. EAP103/1/1/14.

Each photograph in this collection serves as a window into Bulgaria's past, contributing valuable insights into its cultural, social, and artistic heritage. We in the Library are excited to share these digital copies with researchers, scholars, and enthusiasts alike, ensuring that this rich cultural legacy is preserved and accessible for future generations to explore and appreciate.

A saddler at work in Divlia village, Radomir district (Western Bulgaria). Date: c 1957. Creator: N. Nikolov. EAP103/1/1/23

A tinsmith, Kilifarevo village, Veliko Turnovo district (Central Bulgaria). Date: c 1957. Creator: Marinov. EAP103/1/1/44/18.

The project digitised a fascinating collection of mid-20th-century photographs, methodically curated from ethnographic, historical, and artistic research endeavours. These photographs provide a rich tapestry of Bulgarian life and culture during this era, capturing a diverse range of subjects.

Saia (a traditional female costume) Date: 1961. Creator: N. Nikolov. EAP103/1/1/61/4.

Milan Grba, Lead Curator South-East European Collections

The Gdańsk Agreement of 1980, established between the workers of the Lenin shipyard and the Polish People’s Republic’s undemocratically elected government, saw the beginning of the ‘Solidarity’ trade union’s fight against the Communist Regime. In the following seven years, around 4830 books and 2027 journals, many of which are in the British Library’s Solidarity Collection, were published underground in a so-called ‘second circulation’. As far as the records go, only 175 of these works were authored by a mere 97 female writers.

Superficial research into female involvement in Polish anti-government publishing could end here. Women in print? Official numbers leave no doubt: they were few and far between. To broaden the scope of this quest to uncover unheard female voices in the Solidarity Collection, avenues other than scholarly browsing of the Library’s basements had to be incorporated. And so, on a brisk December morning, one of them led all the way out of the bustle of central London into the quiet of Hampshire countryside.

“At that time my involvement in the anti-communist opposition was very important for me, probably more important than my medical studies”, recalls Anna Młynik-Shawcross, a retired psychiatrist based in Britain since 1985 – the year when she arrived here as a political refugee. Anna reflects on the times after the strikes in the shipyard ended and she graduated from the medical school. “However, I decided to follow medicine instead of getting involved as the unions’ activist”, she confirms. But how does this story begin? The interview with her is meant to deepen the present understanding of diverse roles women played in the 1970s-1980s Polish underground publishing.

Anna Młynik-Shawcross in her home (photo by Olga Topol).

Anna, born in 1955 in Gdańsk, first became involved with the democratic anti-communist movement at the beginning of her Medical School years, in the winter of 1976. When the communist government pushed for changes in the Polish constitution of the time, Anna, alongside a small group of Gdańsk students, joined the movement which started with signing the protest letters against those changes. In the summer of the same year the famous strikes began in Radom and Lublin and spread all over the country, while lots of people lost their employment. At that time the famous ‘Committee for Social Self-Defence’ (KOR) was set up. “I was able to get the list of names of the workers who were sacked [so that they could be helped by KOR]”, recalls Anna. In the years 1977-1978, she was part of the ‘Movement for the Defence of Human and Civic Rights’ (ROPCiO). She was a founder member of the Student Solidarity Committee set up in Gdańsk in November 1977 and was involved in organising student discussion groups and helping those persecuted by the Communist regime.

Around the same time, one of the first printing machines intended for the independent underground printing of works by authors censored by the regime was shipped from abroad with the help of Jaraczewski family, Józef Piłsudski’s descendants. Anna remembers the times she spent printing leaflets and the establishment of an underground periodical Bratniak published by the ‘Movement of Young Poland’, a Free Trade Union periodical called Robotnik Wybrzeża, as well as the first independent publishing house involved in distributing books across the country, Nowa.

An example of an underground publication, Kazimierz Brandys, Miesiące, (Warszawa 1980) Sol. 241w.

“I was in contact with them and was involved into distribution of books across Poland. They had to be well protected, so we had to have a network of people. We would distribute them through friends, all just through networks”, recalls Anna. Distribution of printed material posed challenges, with private flats acting as places of conspiracy. In the following years, Anna contributed to nothing less than the establishment of a new publishing house, Klin. Together with a small group of friends they set the ambitious goal of about 3,500 published books to be published, and worked tirelessly towards it. Still today she recalls, not without excitement, getting a ‘Western’ paper trimmer, as well as gaining the support of a bookbinder.

“It started with my money that I earned working as a student abroad”, Anna recalls, “We needed a lot of paper, but you couldn’t simply go into a shop and buy tons of paper. So we were going to different shops and buying small amounts.” The printing was primitive, primarily in the offset technique. “We got the paint and were spending hours and hours copying books”, adds Anna, a 2009 recipient of an Order of Polonia Restituta. Now, let us look again at the initial number mentioned above: 97 female writers? What about the women behind the scenes?

Anna expands on female involvement in the opposition movement, including the free press. Although often reluctant about such contribution because of concern for the welfare of their children, especially at that challenging time, many women were involved. She and Magda Modzelewska were involved in Gdańsk’s Student Solidarity Commitee. Joanna Duda-Gwiazda and Alinka Pieńkowska belonged to the Wolne Związki Zawodowe trade unions, which published journal Robotnik Wybrzeża. Finally, Bożena Rybicka, Małgorzata Rybicka, and Magda Modzelewska supported the journal Bratniak: “Małgorzata Rybicka was writing articles in Bratniak, while Magda Modzelewska was involved into editing and publishing”, recalls Anna.

Back cover of Marguerite Duras Kochanek (Siedlce, 1987) Sol.235j. featuring a dedication to female colleagues working in the independent publishing movement.

Any involvement in the opposition’s fight for democracy and freedom of speech involved high risk and intimidation. Secret police employed numerous tactics, including arrests, house searches, sending anonymous letters with false information and all kind of threats. “One day my parents received an anonymous letter informing them that I was under the influence of drug addicts and that [my parents] should put pressure on me to disengage from the opposition. My parents were threatened that they would lose their employment. Also, for me, getting a job was hard, especially locally”, she recollects.

Friendships developed during her involvement with underground publishing, which were based on enormous levels of trust to support the clandestine activities. She reflects upon the fact that most of the people involved in the opposition groups belonged to the intelligentsia: “After Wałęsa joined the movement it was a bit easier to reach the working-class people. But they were being persecuted”.

The fascinating conversation goes on for hours. Initial conclusions drawn from limited research done so far into women in Poland’s ‘second circulation’ go down the drain.  And with that emerges a richer picture: that of publishing houses which, although dominated by men, could not have accomplished their mission fully without female efforts around printing and distribution of illegal pro-democratic materials. And so, a brisk December morning spent in a quiet Hampshire town can alone paint a fascinating picture of women working alongside men to help true information reach larger numbers of Poles during the Cold War. Imagine what could more such encounters, and digging deeper into the potential of oral history, bring to surface. 

Agata Piotrowska, Doctoral Fellow 2024, Slavonic and East European collections

Further reading:

Wojciech Chojnacki, Marek Jastrzębski, Bibliografia Publikacji Podziemnych w Polsce. Tom Drugi, 01 I 1986 – 31 XII 1987, (Warszawa: 1993). YA.1994.a.5556

Ann M. Frenkel, Paweł Sowiński, Gwido Zlatkes, Duplicator underground: the independent publishing industry in Communist Poland 1976-89, (Bloomington, Indiana: 2016). YD.2017.a.460

Józefa Kamińska (real names: Władysław Chojnacki, Wojciech Chojnacki), Bibliografia Publikacji Podziemnych w Polsce, 13 XII 1981 – VI 1986, (Paris: 1988). 2725.e.184

Shana Penn, Solidarity’s secret: the women who defeated Communism in Poland (Ann Arbor, Michigan: 2005). YC.2007.a.10368