s, disfigured by tirades and dry attempts
at philosophical excursions, are all failures. When his tramps begin
to spout Nietzsche on their steppes the artificial note is too
apparent. His plays are loose episodes without dramatic action or
climax, sometimes moving, as in the case of Nachtasyl, and discordant
in The Children of the Sun. Gorky had a natural talent; in his stories
a submerged generation became eloquent. And he became a doctrinaire.
Nietzsche finished the ruin that Marx had begun; his art, chiefly
derived from Dostoievsky and Tchekov, succumbed to a sentimental
socialism.

Andreiev is still strong, though enveloped in "mystic anarchism." He
is as naturally gifted as Gorky and a thinker of more precision. His
play, Les Tenebres, reveals the influences of Dostoievsky and Tolstoy.
It is a shocking arraignment of self-satisfied materialism. A young
revolutionary is the protagonist. The woman in the case belongs to the
same profession as Dostoievsky's Sonia. Not encouraging, this. Yet
high hopes are centred upon Andreiev. For the rest there is Vladimir
Soloviev, who is a poet-metaphysician with a following. He has mystic
proclivities. Scratch a Russian writer and you come upon a mystic. He
is against clericalism and believes in an "anti-clerical church"!
There is a little circle at Moscow, where a Muscovite review, _La
Balance_ (founded 1903), is the centre of the young men. V. Brusoff, a
poet, is the editor. Balmont and Sologub write for its pages, as do
Rosanow and Merejkowski. In 1898 there was a review started called
_Mir Iskousstva_. Its director was Serge Diaghilev, and it endured
until 1904. Sologub is one of the most promising poets. Block,
Remisov, Ivanov are also poets of much ability. There are romancers
such as Zensky, Kuzmin, Ivanov, Ropshin, Chapygin, Serafimovitch,
Zaitzeff, Volnoff; some of these wrote on risky themes. But when the
works of these new writers are closely scrutinised their lack of
originality and poverty of invention are noticeable.

The "poisonous honey" of French decadents and symbolists has attracted
one party; and the others are being swallowed up in the pessimistic
nebula of "mystic anarchy" and fatalism. "Russian pity" suffuses their
work. There is without doubt a national sentiment and a revolt against
western European culture, particularly the French. Russia for the
Russians is the slogan of this group. But thus far nothing in
particular has come of their patriotic effort