Russian Nostalgia?
Is nostalgia a part of the Russian culture code and the so-called Russian soul?
In the picture: a trail to a bald hill in Bitzevsky Park in Moscow.
The aim of my work and writing is to present Russian culture in a medium that can be consciously grasped and transformed from mythical forms into something that is, if not tangible, at least concrete enough. Culture, any culture, is elusive; it’s a completed puzzle that gives a big picture, but few can really describe the elements of it and explain how they work individually and as a whole.
I am not a scientist and use strictly empirical methods of culture analysis and exploration. I read, watch, observe, talk to people, flaneur, and live the local life, and this brings understanding, knowledge, and conclusions. However, some things about that mysterious Russian soul I absolutely struggle to understand, and even being singled out and brought into the light, they remain unexplainable.
It was around the 2010s when a peculiar phenomenon began evolving, a surge of nostalgia about Soviet times, expressed in recalling them in sentimental laments and retrospecting how life was allegedly better back then. In Soviet times, people rarely looked back, because the past of the country was full of dark history and hardships, and many lived it. Having gotten through all difficult times, Soviet citizens enjoyed what they had at hand and harbored humble hopes for a better future. The cornerstone idea of the Soviet system was achieving a bright future dubbed communism. Most Soviet people had no idea what that would be but clearly realized that they would never get there. They pressed through life and worked on building their own future with no fancy names attached, not relying on the system.
Working on a three-part post about the 90s in Russia, I’ve read a plethora of stories from ordinary people who have hands-on experiences living through the era. Browsing Russian web resources also made me realize that the topics of the ‘90s and Soviet times are still hot. There are folks in Russia who believe that life back in the USSR was better and grass was greener back then, and there are those who see the Soviet era not as dismal but for what it was. Some express completely opposite opinions, and this polarity sustains an endless debate that is never to be resolved.
Checking Russian web resources, you’ll inevitably bump into loads of opinions on how good things were back in the USSR and even in the ‘90s. People are looking back, seeking evidence of the better in their past and bringing their past into their present life. Disqoteques of the ’80s, followed by the disqoteques of the ‘90s. Aged music idols, dragging themselves through the stage, moving their lips to a phonogram. It was hilarious to see hundreds of people well in their forties dancing away like restless teenagers. Dwelling in the past has become a notable theme of modern Russian life.
Then we witness a growing generation of Russians who never knew the Soviet Union or the ‘90s. They were born into an environment with only a few remnants of that past, and the reality of their upbringing was radically different. It’s especially amusing to hear or read rants from some folks in their 20s and 30s about how [good] it was back then. What the heck do you know about how it was?
Russian art and businesses are still heavily exploiting the cultural heritage of the Soviet era. Songs, popular movie characters, cartoons—you name it—are still being employed in advertisements and as visuals and audibles for all purposes. Singers use music and lyrics from Soviet tunes. Movie studios produced a number of pathetic remakes and sequels of iconic Soviet movies. Perhaps using those cultural artifacts of the past, they try to cater to audiences whose background stems from the Soviet era, appealing to their memories and ruminations of the past?
Could it be that nostalgia is a part of the Russian mindset, its culture code? Is it relative to a specific generation of Russians born and raised in the Soviet and early post-Soviet eras, or is it a collective mindset that will pass generation to generation? Is it because they are not truly happy with the current life, despite all the opportunities, conveniences, and developments that the Soviet system could never provide? What if life has taken away something that was immensely important for them and for which they never found a satisfying replacement? Maybe the effects of transition, the turmoil of the 80s and 90s, had stolen parts of their youth, and now they are attempting to make it up for those years lost? Perhaps in over thirty years some of those people failed to find themselves in the now and ground themselves in a new reality, even with all of the possibilities it offers?
I have no concrete answers to any of these questions, except for some thoughts on the subject.
This situation is brilliantly depicted in the movie “Window to Paris.” In one of the previous posts I’ve mentioned that scene in the movie in which two longtime friends meet: one who has just arrived from St. Petersburg and a guy who moved to Paris years ago. The latter scolds the French for being too down-to-earth and lacking that “dukhovnost”; check out my previous post.
The scene continues. A friend who just came from St. Petersburg blindfolds his old mate who lives in Paris and leads him through the window that supernaturally connects St. Petersburg and Paris, shortcutting thousands of kilometers of distance between the two cities. Then he takes him down the stairs (a guy from Paris notices a disgusting smell once they get onto the public stairs of the building in St. Petersburg); the two of them get into a taxi, which brings them to some place in St. Petersburg. The guy from St. Petersburg removes the band from his friend’s eyes and leaves him alone in the city of his youth, which hasn’t changed in years. Instead of releasing his nostalgia, the guy panics and desperately seeks his way back to Paris, because in truth, he does not want to be in St. Petersburg, and much less does he want his lousy past to come back to him. All his nostalgic rants about old days were nothing but an empty bunk.
I suspect that an average Russian, being taken back to Soviet times, would not feel comfortable there because they forget how it really was. It is a property of our memory and the psyche to remember the good and to sweep the negative under the rug. Maybe it’s not uniquely Russian but a human thing; only Russians found ways to exercise it in full swing. An underlying reason for this nostalgia I see is the mass gestalt of the Soviet past not being closed. If this is the case, why is that? I have no clue.
The more realistic explanation I cling to is this: what they are more likely bemoaning is who they were back in the day: young. What they lament about is the loss of their youth, not the environment of their upbringing. There is nothing else to this but sentimental memories about a short stretch of their life, which they see as brighter because of who they were back then, not where it was happening. This is my take on this, though, and I am looking for other opinions and thoughts.
At the same time we are witnessing a new generation of Russians growing. They have no recollections of the Soviet past and no strings of emotional attachments to anything Soviet or early post-Soviet. In fact, they are barely aware of both. As they mature, will they be nostalgic about the years of their youth? Only time will tell.


Maybe it is because you're not an ordinary Russian in your thinking that causes you wonder in this one? Your life story seems pretty unique to me, most in particular the journey to America and then in most particularly the journey back. Children of the Oligarchy and the Bourgeoise apparently flit back and forth, but they live in a bubble. Most of the Russians I've met overseas are like either my ex tenant on Lamma Island or the man who rented us a houseboat for our summer vacation in Finland. Men who might or might not make money from Russia but have no interest in a permanent return.
Nostalgia takes many forms, but in China there is even some for the Cultural Revolution under Mao. Both by people who survived it and those too young to have been aware, or even existing when it came. There are however quite a lot of Chinese who have no interest in it. Human nature likes to externalize disappointment or uncertainty. For the Chinese, they have gotten so much nice things, that they worry a bit about what would they do if they were taken away, so some use this nostalgia as a way of reassuring themselves that they could survive.
Good article! I would guess this is partially true because of propaganda, “collective mindset that will pass generation to generation?” So many dead soldiers may spark a change in leadership. We will see.
John Charles Harman
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