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Russian Pulp

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Russian Pulp deserves a wide audience. Regrettably, it probably won't find it unless more people come to appreciate its wide ranging implications.

Although ostensibly "about" the Russian detective novel today, the real value of this gem of a book lies in the author's splendid grasp of what the Detektiv genre tells us about Russian democracy today. As Olcott demonstrates, Russian detective novels reflect rampant cynicism and distrust of law, individualism, capitalism and materialism. Rather empowering the reader to help "solve the crime", through the use of clues and evidence, as Western detective novels typically do, the Russian detektiv is little more than a "morality play" designed to show that individuals cannot ignore the will of society.

Reflecting conditions and mores in Russia today, the detektiv depicts good cops as people who are willing to bend the law, while criminals are often portrayed as people who have the temerity to want to improve their own circumstances (the "zero-sum" implication being that, sooner or later, the society will suffer as a result).

For anyone who cares about democracy, Russia, US-Russian relations, public ethics, and many other matters, this is a lively, well-written book that will offer fresh, if disturbing insights, on every page.

Anthony Olcott wrote one of my favorite detective novels with a Russian setting, Murder at the Red October, so it was with much anticipation that I began reading his distillation of the "detektiv" genre of Russian fiction. In general, one can say that Mr. Olcott's valuable insight into the genre is to point out that a Russian's view of the world is not the same as a westerner's and that we just do not comprehend things in the same manner. While we, for example, generally tend to regard individualism as good and collectivism as bad, a Russian is very likely to hold the exact opposite view.

Mr. Olcott cites numerous - in fact, far too many - examples of this from various authors of Russian detektivy. Repetition may be the mother of learning, but re-repetition is just filling up space.

What was especially disappointing, though, was Olcott's thinly veiled attacks on those western authors who write works of fiction with a Russian setting. He disingenuously admits that these authors are successful and have sold millions of books, but he then attacks them for their egregious inaccuracy, especially in matters of Russian language usage. (Hint: Olcott is a professor of Russian.) It seems no one is spared, including Albeury, Clancy, Hyde, Ignatius, LeCarre, et al. The obvious answer, of course, is that these authors write commercially for a non-Russian audience that merely wants a good read. Those readers want as much accuracy and truth in their fiction as possible, but who in his right mind would ever expect true insight from anything written, for example, by Tom Clancy? Criticizing these authors for lacking something they never claimed to possess in the first place is just being petulant.

What's more, I expect that buyers of Olcott's Russian Pulp mostly want an examination of Russian authors' detektivy, not a criticism of the Russian-related fiction of American and British writers. Instead, though, Olcott devotes an entire chapter to this petty nit-picking. In any event, he should already know that he's preaching to the choir.

Olcott wears two hats, one as a writer of award-winning mysteries and the other as an academic. In Russian Pulp it seems that a pedantic academic has won out over the accomplished fiction writer.

U.S. politicians and columnists continue to express outrage at the two trials and convictions of Russian oligarch Mikhail Khordorkovsky. Yet in Russia, the prosecution of Khordorkovsky is enormously popular. This book explains the divergence, although it never mentions his name and was published before Khordorkovsky's first trial began.

The Russian justice system was based on French criminal law except that Russians had absolute faith in the criminal's compulsion to confess, chronicled in "Crime and Punishment" and other nineteenth century literature. Pre-Revolutionary Russia depended more on confessions than evidence to achieve convictions. Nevertheless, the investigator was presented as an intellectual considering evidence as well as subtly probing the psychological state of suspects. In Soviet times the necessity of guilt went beyond presumption, resulting in brutal methods and the absurd Stalinist show trial confessions.

Professor Anthony Olcott's study of Russian pulp fiction chronicles the Russian criminal justice system throughout the twentieth century. Following the characters and plots of the popular crime-solving stories called "detektivy", the reader learns what is criminal in Russia and the social view of crime. Vasiliy Ardamatskiy's 1987 "The Trial" features several "vile" criminals who legally purchase surplus farm machinery parts in one region and transport them to another region where they are unavailable, to sell them for a modest profit. In Igor Aryasov's 1989 "Three hours to Clarify the Truth," one character says, "Thief to speculator to traitor. It's one chain, it's short, and it's time-tested." Like Russian society, Russian crime fiction became far more violent in the 1990's than in Soviet times. Olcott identifies the new financial motives for violence in post-Soviet stories.

Ordinary Russians are so inculcated with the Soviet concept of property crime that they are infuriated by Khordorkovsky's fake technical cooperatives that did no work but acquired credits, rubles and even hard currencies from the Soviet Treasury, ending up appropriating the most valuable resource of Russia. It seems to them that Khordorkovsky personally impoverished millions--imagine a Bernard Madov who had robbed virtually all U.S. citizens instead of the few hundred he actually defrauded. That is the situation of Khordorkovsky as perceived in Russia. They feel he robbed them all.

"An entire division of the militia, the OBKhSS (Division for the Battle against Theft of State Property), was devoted to fighting crimes against state property," Olcott explains. That division was responsible for the very recent conviction of Khordorkovsky for embezzlement and money laundering. Khordorkovsky's May 2005 conviction for tax evasion and tax fraud was investigated by the Tax Police, a department of the militia that did not exist until parliament created it in 1993. Opening most criminal cases in Russia traditionally took far longer than in the U.S. The tax police's initial and primary targets were oligarchs. By the time the cases were ripe, such perpetrators as Boris Berezovsky and Vladimir Gusinsky had left the country permanently. Others negotiated payment of unpaid taxes plus penalties with the procurator (similar to an Attorney General). The highly visible exception was the biggest criminal, Khordorkovsky.

While robbing an individual was not treated as an important crime, the 1960 Soviet Criminal Code permitted the death penalty for theft of state property. Khordorkovsky, whose sentences have been light in historical terms, can be grateful that he was not subject to the death penalty when convicted of financial crimes. As a very wealthy man, he appears in court fashionably dressed and wearing designer glasses. When not in Moscow at the Khamovniki District Court for his second trial during 2009-10, he is imprisoned in the Chita Region of eastern Siberia. Like any prisoner, he can have his wife come four times a year for 3-day-visits with him. Unlike other prisoners, he writes editorials, gives interviews, has a sophisticated website, the latest computers and his top lawyers are constantly available.

Yeltsin's 1997 rewriting of the Criminal Code criminalized homosexual activity and narcotics consumption in prisons as well as prisoner strikes. It retained the Soviet view of crime as something that was harmful to society and the presumption of guilt, but the Soviet ban on pornography was lifted. Not until the Putin/Medvedev 2003 Criminal Codes were enacted did Russia have the presumption of innocence and widespread availability of jury trials.

Olcott's book is so much more than an introduction to a Russian literature that is rarely available in English translation. It's a window into Russian criminal consciousness that informs everything from the classic Russian literature to the famous 21st century Khordorkovsky trials. After decades of popular fiction focused on speculator villains, the Russian attitude toward Khordorkovsky is no surprise.