VARIETY
THE REPRESSIVE IMPULSE
This evening* we are consider–
ing a phenomenon which involves
us in an ultimate way. We are peo–
ple who believe that our very ex–
istence is defined by our freedom
to think and speak as we choose
and, in the arts, to make what we
choose. And so the extreme limita–
tion of that freedom by a human
agency does not appear to us mere–
ly as the curtailment of a right–
it appears as nothing less than an–
nihilation.
But just because we regard in–
tellectual and artistic repression in
this ultimate way we have some
difficulty in thinking about it con–
cretely. Even when we know about
it as a fact, as it is in Russia to–
day, we have the sense that it is
infinitely removed from us. It is so
much the anti-principle of our ex-
*
These remarks were originally
made by Lionel Trilling at a discus–
sion, held in April by Europe-America
Groups, on the subject, "The Soviet
Attack on Culture-What Happened
and What Does It Mean?" The main
speaker was Nicolas Nabokov, whose
speech will be printed in the next num–
ber of
Politics.
The other speakers who
took part in the panel discussion were
Meyer Schapiro and Dwight Mac–
donald.
717
istence that our minds find it near–
ly inconceivable or only abstractly
conceivable. It is as if Nature had
gone astray and we found ourselves
without the mental categories to
deal with the new order of events.
We do not in the least doubt the
fact, but we cannot wholly grasp
it because we do not really grasp
the reason behind the fact.
I remember with what genuine–
ly naive wonder I once questioned
Mr. Nabokov about the rationale
of the Russian intellectual situa–
tion. I could, of course, understand
the gross phenomenon of intellec–
tual repression or direction.
If
art–
ists have official status, then it is
not hard to understand, from an–
alogies which are plentiful in our
own culture, how the chief says
to his subordinate, "Look, the Boss
doesn't like the way you're do–
ing it. Make it more folksy"-or
"democratic" or "simple" or "joy–
ous" or the adjective of whatever
quality is at the moment felt to
be needed. But what lay quite be–
yond my comprehension was the
metaphysical refinement of repres–
sion, the publicized discussion of
the most abstruse technical mat–
ters, the gratuitous humiliation of
notable artists. I could not under–
stand this procedure because I
could not discover what practical
purpose
it
might serve. Mr. Nabo–
kov's reply, by its concreteness, by
its evocation of human personal–
ities and particular events, sug–
gested to me how much I had
