Ethnography, Folklore, Afanasev, and Russian Self-Identity
IN THIS ARTICLE
While the history of ethnography in Russia dates back to the Kievan Rus era, modern ethnographic production in Russia developed in the 17th century and expanded during the late 18th and early 19th centuries as interest in folktales and in the lives and natures of Russian peasants exploded amongst the Russian elite. This paper briefly explores the history of Russian ethnography before examining the Russian concepts of narod (народ, the people) and narodnost (народность, the Russian soul). This work examines the folklore collections of Alexander Afanasev and his process of editing these tales to remove excessive violence, insert indicator phrases and regional terminology to identify them as traditional folktales, and eliminate Church Slavonicisms and foreign words. Ultimately, the paper argues that Afanasev’s editing of his folktales served to reinforce the “fiction” that Russian peasants were a singular kind of people that preserved pure Russian-ness in morality, language, and culture.
Ethnography: Definitions and Contexts
Ethnography, or “the systematic collection of diverse types of data through observation, conversation, and textual study” in order to know “the world from the standpoint of its social relations,” occupies a unique position between literature, science, and social commentary.1 Ethnography is created when learned individuals enter into cultures or societies unlike their own, participate in societal life, and write their observations down. These written observations are naturally colored by the life experiences of the researchers; some researchers approach ethnography scientifically, while others frame their ethnographic excursions as first-hand narratives describing events and providing commentary or opinions on the people and places the researcher saw. While ethnography today is chiefly practiced by anthropologists seeking to understand how cultures around the world function and interact, ethnography in the past has been practiced by poets, government officials, and hobbyists desiring to discover the essences of human nature.The key to ethnography is that researchers participate in a society and social life drastically different from their own. Sometimes this involves traveling internationally; however, in a country as large and as varied as Russia, international travel is not necessary in order for researchers to encounter unique cultures with vastly different life experiences and habits. Russia, with its 6 million miles of terrain and more than 120 distinct ethnic groups, presents the perfect setting for curious intellectuals seeking to experience the life customs, stories, and rituals of cultures separate from their own.2 In the 19th century, ethnography in Russia exploded, aided by political upheaval and debates about what it meant to be truly Russian. For intellectuals of the 19th century, the vast cultural and educational divide between city-dwelling elites and peasant populations cast peasants as an ethnographic “other” with practices so foreign to intellectual understanding that Russian peasants became a kind of foreigner worthy of ethnographic study.
While the creation of ethnographic knowledge dates back to at least the Kievan Rus era, the foundations for modern, “scientific” ethnography were built during the reign of Peter the Great, from 1682 to 1725.3 Peter the Great’s attempts to westernize Russia included adopting Enlightenment era theories and emphasizing scientific, ordered thought. Russian scholars began applying these scientific principles towards ethnographic research as early as the 1730s. Vasily Tatishchev was the first to conduct a Russian ethnographic survey during this period. Tatishchev’s work legitimized the idea that people and their cultures could be scientifically studied and paved the way for later research.4 Early ethnographic studies took the form of expeditions financed by the government; learned scholars would set out from Moscow or St. Petersburg into the unknown wilderness of Russia, recording what they saw and experienced along the way. From the 1730s to the 1770s, the Russian Academy of Sciences sponsored two such expeditions to study the empire. These expeditions were led by Gerhard Friedrich Miller and Pyotr Pallas, and covered everywhere from Siberia to the Caucasus to the Far North.5
In the late 18th and early 19th centuries, scholars turned to folklore for both entertainment and in an attempt to find a national identity.6 In 1845, the Ethnographic Division of the Russian Geographical Society merged the two main branches of ethnography: geographic exploration and folklore. Shortly thereafter, in 1847, Nikolai Nadezhdin became chair of the Ethnographic Division, and launched a survey of the Russian people based on a questionnaire. The questionnaire was divided into six categories with questions surrounding physical appearance, language, domestic sphere, social sphere, mental and moral development, and folklore.7 Survey results were published in Ethnographic Anthology (этнографический сборник), the first Russian periodical devoted to ethnography.8 The new emphasis on folk life as a source of Russian culture and understanding was heightened by the Great Reforms of 1861. In that year, Tsar Alexander II abolished serfdom in Russia and allowed Russian peasants to own land.9 As peasants began to enter the public sphere as autonomous individuals, Russian intellectuals and the ruling elite took interest in their unfamiliar cultures and practices. From the government’s perspective, in order to reform the empire while ensuring that imperial power continued, it was essential to “take stock of the regional and ethnic diversity of the empire and recast its identity,” allowing imperial Russia to “consolidate its power.”10 In the 1860s, The Society of Friends of Natural History, Anthropology, and Ethnography was founded in Moscow. This Society launched their first exploration in 1867 and explored most of Russia as well as neighboring Slavic countries. In the 1860s and 1870s, regional schools of ethnography appeared in the Ukraine and Siberia. It was in this climate of fast-paced, ethnographic-centered intellectualism that the works of Alexander Afanasev appeared.
Alexander Afanasev’s Background
Alexander Afanasev was born in 1826 in the Voronezh region of Russia.11 He attended Moscow University as a law student and worked as a clerk in the Moscow archives of the Imperial Foreign Ministry.12 Afanasev’s interest in Russian folk tales began in these archives. Afanasev culled through written material produced by the expeditions sponsored by the Russian Geographical Society, compiling and editing the field notes into folk tale collections.13 Unlike other ethnographers, Afanasev never actually conducted field research; rather, he based his folklore collections on notes taken by other researchers. His largest sources of material were the collections of Vladimir Dal, an older folklorist who had gathered hundreds of tales during his career and had traveled extensively throughout the Russian countryside.14 Dal is best known for his work producing a dictionary on the Russian language.15 Dal approved of Afanasev’s work, giving the latter his blessing to use any of his tales and to do with them as the younger folklorist pleased.16 Afanasev admired the “poetic artistry, sincerity, and purity” he found in tales told by peasants.17 His interest in folklore seems to have been based in a desire to seek the essence of Russian-ness, both in language and in character.
Russia and the Narod
What did it mean to be Russian during Asanasev’s lifetime? This was a matter of considerable debate. The Russian word “narod” (народ), often used to refer to “the people” of Russia, was defined by Dal as a “nation [or] national group, those who lived in the same territory and spoke the same language.”18 The “people of Russia” were considered to be peasants; intellectuals were often excluded from definitions of narod. But what was the language of Russia? Peasants and Old Believers spoke Russian and Church Slavonic, while intellectual elites spoke French. A nation engaged in a quest for self-identification, as Russia was after the freeing of the serfs in 1861, required a unifying morality and culture in order to identify it as distinct from other nations (similar quests for self-identification can be seen in other nations, such as Germany, during the Romantic period). Intellectuals turned to peasants, the narod, as the source for this true Russian identity. The narod were cast as representing “native Russia, while urban Russia represented a spoiled or tainted, Westernized, and thus alien culture.”19 There were extensive debates about the nature of the Russian people; were the people inherently religious, as Dostoevsky claimed? Were they naturally revolutionary, as the Narodniki (народники), led by Herzen, believed? Afanasev’s narod was imbued with moral strength and framed as the “carrier of national integrity.”20 This moral character and true Russian-ness of spirit was sometimes referred to as the “Russian soul,” or “narodnost” (народность). The Russian soul was a concept first popularized by literary critic Vissarion Belinskii in response to Nikolai Gogol’s book, Dead Souls (Мёртвые души), published in 1842.21 The Russian soul, according to Belinskii, was an “anti-European concept”22 that encouraged a “deeper look into Russian reality and peasant life”23 as a source for better understanding the essence of Russia and Russians. An individual with a Russian soul possessed “freshness, creativity, life, and imagination,”24 believed in a “distinctly Russian future,”25 and had a “capacity not only to suffer but to find meaning in suffering.”26 It was the opinion of some intellectuals during the beginning of Afanasev’s literary career that the narod of Russia were the keepers and safeguards of narodnost, the very essence of Russian-ness.
Ethnography in Russia in the mid 19th century was, therefore, chiefly an attempt to acquaint the intelligentsia with the narod and narodnost, which some intellectuals hoped would unite Russia as a nation, recast the identity of the Russian empire, and consolidate Russian imperial power even as monumental reforms occurred.27 When the intelligentsia explored rural Russia, they would bring “enlightenment to the people” and “simultaneously ingest the people’s spirit,” thereby uniting all Russians in true Russian-ness.28 Narod and narodnost allowed intellectuals and the ruling elite to create the “fiction” that Russia was a nation of multitudes held together by a single soul, or narodnost.29 As ethnographic expeditions continued, however, it became clear that the 120 ethnic groups that comprised Russia were “not as cohesive a unit as expected.”30 Peasants held different beliefs, practiced various forms of religion, and told folk tales that sounded startlingly similar to folk tales told by other nationalities. Ethnographers reported back the unexpected truths that folk customs were disappearing with the reforms, that Orthodoxy was not a uniting belief for Russians (even peasants that did practice Christianity were split into two camps: Old Believers, who rejected the reforms to Orthodox practice instituted by Patriarch Nikon in the 17th century, and those who accepted reforms and practiced the new Orthodoxy supported by the Tsarist government)31 and that many ethnic groups existed that considered themselves regionally and culturally different from “Russians.”32 The narod, it became clear, were characterized by “cultural and religious diversity” and were therefore not a viable foundation on which to build imperial authority and unity.33 By the 1880s, the idea that Russian peasants could be sources of a singular true Russian identity was largely a thing of the past.34
Afanasev’s Folktales as Constructions of the Narod
Afanasev’s first volume of edited folktales was released in 1855, as the belief that the narod were a pure source of narodnost still raced through Russian intellectual circles.35 Even in these publications, however, the truth that the narod and narodnost were a construct created by Russian intellectuals to design a single, unified ideal of “Russian-ness” is evident. Afanasev’s collections of folk tales, like narodnost, attempted to conjure a pure reality of Russian-ness that was itself a construction. An investigation done by Professor Tristan Landry of the history department at the Université de Sherbrooke in Quebec makes clear that Afanasev heavily edited his folk tale compilations, in prose and in content, to both create an ambiance of Russian-ness and to conform to norms of folk telling established by such authors as the Brothers Grimm. Landry compared Afanasev’s published compilations to original source material in the Russian Geographical Society archive to lay bare this editing.36 The fact that Afanasev edited his folk tales does not diminish the value that his works have; rather, exploring the decisions Afanasev made in editing his folktales emphasizes the centrality of creating and defining narodnost to intellectual thought and discussion during Afanasev’s time.
Afanasev is quoted by his biographer, Aleksei Gruzinskii, as having commented that compiling his folktale volumes required “comparing variations, deciding what to keep and what to discard” and eliminating anything rude.37 In content, Afanasev’s folktales are strikingly similar to those of the Brothers Grimm; this is because Afanasev was influenced by the “social and nationalistic principles inspired by the German romantics” that the Grimm Brothers included in their tales.38 The Grimm Brothers, who published their works in the early 19th century, set the standard in Europe for the retelling of folk tales. Afanasev, inspired by their works, wanted to likewise compile a body of literature that gave the Russian nation a “sense of its historical greatness.”39 This began with a necessity for readers to identify his stories as being folkloric. Afanasev, like the Grimm Brothers, inserted indicator phrases (such as жил-проживал or жил-был, the Russian equivalent of “once upon a time”) to ensure that readers identified his tales as being based in folk knowledge and wisdom.40 Afanasev’s tales conformed to the narrative “type,” complete with indicator phrases, that the Grimm brothers had popularized. The insertion of this phrase, жил-проживал, at the beginning of many of his folk stories did more than just identify Afanasev’s tales as being folkloric; it created a unified narrative structure that underscored the varied tales present in his compilations, thereby presenting a singular kind of Russian fairytale that suggested a singular kind of Russian folk. Reading Afanasev’s folktales suggests that the narod had developed narrative structures that united the nation through fairytales.
Afanasev also heavily edited the content of his folktales to conform to “the ruling standards of morality” of his day.41 The narod of Russia were framed as the moral compass of Russian society, the carriers of “national integrity.”42 As such, the folk tales of the narod should present entertaining yet appropriate stories that created a framework of values and morals that all of Russia could embrace. This required Afanasev to remove or censor “violent episodes” in order to make the tales more palatable to children, who were one of the premier audiences for both Afanasev’s and the Grimm Brothers’ tales.43 Editing out inappropriate content entailed a delicate touch. Afanasev needed to make his tales readable for children but entertaining and fascinating for adults. In order for the intelligentsia to engage with the stories, thereby “ingest[ing] the people’s spirit,”44 “all bluntness and vulgarity offensive to refined habits and tastes [had to be] erased.”45 Afanasev did not remove all colorful, bawdy, or suggestive episodes from his stories; rather, he edited out gratuitous violence that would have prevented Russian adults from reading his tales to children and incorporating his stories into a general consciousness of Russian morality. Violence that had an educational purpose remained in the texts. In Quarrelsome Demyan, for example, a peasant, Demyan, repeatedly strikes a guest for refusing to “obey the master” of the house.46 In the end, Demyan orders the guest to take his best horse, expecting the the guest will refuse and Demyan will be able to beat him. Instead, the guest obeys, making off without a beating and with Demyan’s horse. The tale teaches Russian children and adults alike that cleverness wins against violence; had Afanasev edited out the beatings in this tale, the moral would not have shown through. Afanasev’s editing of his folk tales presented the narod as authentic and colorful yet moral and wise, thereby preserving the idea that the narod were a model of Russian morality while providing audiences with entertaining, lively tales that engaged adults and children alike.
As was mentioned previously, Afanasev’s largest source of material while compiling his folk tale anthologies was Vladimir Dal’s field notes. Afanasev built a personal relationship with Dal through correspondence, and it is clear that the two men admired and respected each other. Dal’s primary intellectual interest was lexicology; Afanasev’s largest edits, too, revolved around language in Russian folk tales. Casting the narod as the keepers of narodnost required imbuing them with generational wisdom and authority; folk tales had to be presented as sources of ancient knowledge and understanding to unite Russians as one people with one soul from time immemorial. Language, according to Vladimir Dal’s definition of narod, was a defining feature of any people and nation. Tales representing a Russian nation had to be in the people’s Russian. Afanasev first systematically removed foreign words from his folk tales and replaced them with regional Russian phrases common amongst peasants.47 This “nationalized” Afanasev’s collections and identified his tales as belonging to the common people of Russia, making them a touchstone for Russian-ness.48
Afanasev’s most significant edits of his folk tale compilations involved removing all traces of Church Slavonic from the stories.49 The tales were supposed to have existed in ancient times, before Russia was exposed to and contaminated by other cultures. In order to speak to a time “prior to the Christianization of Russia,” folk tales had to have been written in “the principles of low style,” those of the people rather than those of the Church.50 Church Slavonic, the language of Russian Orthodoxy, had no place in tales composed by the narod, the very soul of Russia. Removing Church Slavonic from his tales allowed Afanasev to recast Russian language and the Russian narod, rather than Russian Orthodoxy, as the moral heart and guiding authorities of the Russian peoples and nation.
Naturally, Afanasev’s removal of Church Slavonic and his creation of tales that eliminated Orthodoxy as the moral center of the Russian people were unpopular with the Russian Orthodox Church. To add insult to injury, some of Afanasev’s tales included references to Old and New Testament characters (such as Adam and Eve, Noah, and even Christ) while denigrating Orthodox practice and clergy.51 This enraged Church authorities; the Chief Procurator of the Holy Synod, Count A.P. Tolstoy, wrote of Afansev’s folk tale collections: “in this book the names of Christ the Savior and the saints are added to tales which offend pious feelings, morality and decency, and it is necessary to find means to preserve religion and morality from printed blasphemy and mockery.”52 Despite the Orthodox Church’s condemnation of Afanasev’s tales, his work remained popular, and Folk Russian Legends (Русские народные легенды) sold out quickly regardless of the controversy. The Church was successful, however, in preventing reprinting, and Afanasev’s Folk Russian Legends was subsequently banned in Russia until 1914.53
In summary, the folk tales published in Afanasev’s collections of stories, after editing was complete, were devoid of unpleasant and excessive violence, used indicator phrases and regional terminology to identify them as traditional folktales, and were free from Church Slavonicisms and foreign words. These were tales of the narod, tales that communicated to readers what it meant to be truly Russian, as Afanasev understood it. Afanasev’s tales, like the very concepts of narod and narodnost, were constructions; they were collected, molded, and edited by intellectuals in search of true Russians and true Russian-ness. There is intense beauty in the artificial, and there is a magic present in Afanasev’s tales that would not have been possible without the circumstances in which his editing took place. Afanasev’s tales present Russian-ness as some intellectuals of his time perceived it to be, rather than as it truly was. The fact that the tales remain fascinating and relevant today speaks to Afanasev’s skills as an editor. Many of the translations of Russian fairy tales that modern scholars consult are pulled from Afanasev’s compilations; Russian authors, like Nikolai Nekrasov, have consulted Afanasev’s collections throughout the years. Afanasev’s folktales remain a time capsule of national integrity, providing modern readers with insight into human nature framed in whimsy, magic, and authentic Russian language.
Afanasev, Alexander. Russian Fairy Tales, translated by Norbert Guterman. New York: Pantheon Books Inc., 1945.
Clay, Catherine B. “Russian Ethnographers in the Service of the Empire, 1856-1862.” Slavic Review 45, no. 1 (1995): 45-61.
Deutsch, Nathaniel. The Jewish Dark Continent. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2011.
Frierson, Cathy A. Peasant Icons: Representations of Rural People in Late Nineteenth-Century Russia. New York: Oxford University Press, 1993.
Jakobsen, Roman. “On Russian Fairytales.” In Russian Fairy Tales, translated by Norbert Guterman, 629-657. New York: Pantheon Books Inc., 1945.
Knight, Nathanial. “Ethnography, Russian and Soviet.” Encyclopedia of Russian History. Encyclopedia.com, November 24, 2019.
Landry, Tristan. “Words Tell the Tale: The Motivation Behind A.N. Afanasev’s Editing of Sources From the Archive of the Russian Geographical Society for His ‘Narodnye Russkie Skazki.’” Revue des Études Slaves 85, no. 1 (2014): 25-39.
McCauley, Martin, and John C. Dewdney. “Mixed and Deciduous Forests in Russia.” Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc., 21 Mar. 2020, www.britannica.com/place/Russia/Mixed-and-deciduous-forest#ref422343.
Miller, Alexey. “Natsiia, Narod, Narodnost’ in Russia in the 19th Century: Some Introductory Remarks to the History of Concepts.” Jahrbücher für Geschichte Osteuropas 56, no. 3 (2008): 379-390.
“Old Believer.” Encyclopædia Britannica. Encyclopædia Britannica, inc., February 13, 2020. https:// www.britannica.com/topic/Old-Believers.
Propp, Vladimir Yakovlevich. The Russian Folk Tale, translated by Sibelan Forrester. Detroit: Wayne State University, 2012.
Renner, Andreas. “Defining a Russian Nation: Mikhail Katkov and the ‘Invention’ of National Politics.” The Slavonic and East European Review 81, no. 4 (2003): 659-682.
Riordan, James (2003), Davidson, Hilda Ellis; Chaudhri, Anna (eds.), "Russian Fairy Tales and Their Collectors,” in A Companion to the Fairy Tale, Cambridge: D.S. Brewer: 220-225.
“What Is Ethnography? | Anthropology@Princeton.” Princeton University. The Trustees of Princeton University, 2020. https://anthropology.princeton.edu/programs/ethnographic- studies/what-ethnography.
Williams, Robert C. “The Russian Soul: A Study in European Thought and Non-European Nationalism,” Journal of the History of Ideas 31, no. 4 (1970).
1.) “What Is Ethnography? | Anthropology@Princeton.” Princeton University. The Trustees of Princeton University, 2020. https://anthropology.princeton.edu/programs/ethnographic-studies/what- ethnography.
2.) McCauley, Martin, and John C. Dewdney. “Mixed and Deciduous Forests in Russia.” Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc., 21 Mar. 2020, www.britannica.com/place/Russia/ Mixed-and-deciduous-forest#ref422343.
3.) Nathanial Knight, “Ethnography, Russian and Soviet.” Encyclopedia of Russian History. Encyclopedia.com, November 24, 2019.
7.) Nathaniel Deutsch, The Jewish Dark Continent (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2011), 63.
8.) Nathanial Knight, “Ethnography, Russian and Soviet.” Encyclopedia of Russian History. Encyclopedia.com, November 24, 2019.
10.) Catherine B. Clay, “Russian Ethnographers in the Service of the Empire, 1856-1862.” Slavic Review 45, no. 1 (1995), 47.
11.) James Riordan and Hilda Ellis Davidson; Anna Chaudri (eds.), "Russian Fairy Tales and Their Collectors,” in A Companion to the Fairy Tale (Cambridge: D.S. Brewer), 221.
12.) Ibid., 222.
13.) Ibid., 222.
14.) Ibid., 222.
15.) Cathy A. Frierson, Peasant Icons: Representations of Rural People in Late Nineteenth-Century Russia (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993), 33.
16.) Ibid., 222.
17.) James Riordan and Hilda Ellis Davidson; Anna Chaudri (eds.), "Russian Fairy Tales and Their Collectors,” in A Companion to the Fairy Tale (Cambridge: D.S. Brewer), 221.
18.) Cathy A. Frierson, Peasant Icons: Representations of Rural People in Late Nineteenth-Century Russia (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993), 33.
19.) Ibid., 33.
20.) Ibid., 33.
21.) Robert C. Williams, “The Russian Soul: A Study in European Thought and Non-European Nationalism,” Journal of the History of Ideas 31, no. 4 (1970), 580.
22.) Ibid., 584
23.) Ibid., 581
24.) Ibid., 575
25.) Ibid., 581
26.) Ibid., 586
27.) Catherine B. Clay, “Russian Ethnographers in the Service of the Empire, 1856-1862.” Slavic Review 45, no. 1 (1995), 47.
28.) Alexey Miller, “Natsiia, Narod, Narodnost’ in Russia in the 19th Century: Some Introductory Remarks to the History of Concepts.” Jahrbücher für Geschichte Osteuropas 56, no. 3 (2008), 388.
29.) Andreas Renner, “Defining a Russian Nation: Mikhail Katkov and the ‘Invention’ of National Politics.” The Slavonic and East European Review 81, no. 4 (2003), 681.
30.) Cathy A. Frierson, Peasant Icons: Representations of Rural People in Late Nineteenth-Century Russia (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993), 44.
31.) “Old Believer.” Encyclopædia Britannica. Encyclopædia Britannica, inc., February 13, 2020. https:// www.britannica.com/topic/Old-Believers.
32.) Catherine B. Clay, “Russian Ethnographers in the Service of the Empire, 1856-1862.” Slavic Review 45, no. 1 (1995), 55-56.
33.) Ibid., 59.
34.) Alexey Miller, “Natsiia, Narod, Narodnost’ in Russia in the 19th Century: Some Introductory Remarks to the History of Concepts.” Jahrbücher für Geschichte Osteuropas 56, no. 3 (2008), 390.
35.) James Riordan and Hilda Ellis Davidson; Anna Chaudri (eds.), "Russian Fairy Tales and Their Collectors,” in A Companion to the Fairy Tale (Cambridge: D.S. Brewer), 221.
36.) Tristan Landry. “Words Tell the Tale: The Motivation Behind A.N. Afanasev’s Editing of Sources From the Archive of the Russian Geographical Society for His ‘Narodnye Russkie Skazki.’” Revue des Études Slaves 85, no. 1 (2014), 25.
37.) Ibid., 25.
38.) Ibid., 32.
39.) Ibid., 32.
40.) Ibid., 35.
41.) Ibid., 39.
42.) Cathy A. Frierson, Peasant Icons: Representations of Rural People in Late Nineteenth-Century Russia (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993), 33.
43.) Tristan Landry. “Words Tell the Tale: The Motivation Behind A.N. Afanasev’s Editing of Sources From the Archive of the Russian Geographical Society for His ‘Narodnye Russkie Skazki.’” Revue des Études Slaves 85, no. 1 (2014), 26.
44.) Alexey Miller, “Natsiia, Narod, Narodnost’ in Russia in the 19th Century: Some Introductory Remarks to the History of Concepts.” Jahrbücher für Geschichte Osteuropas 56, no. 3 (2008), 388.
45.) Roman Jakobsen, “On Russian Fairytales.” In Russian Fairy Tales, translated by Norbert Guterman, 629-657, (New York: Pantheon Books Inc., 1945), 635.
46.) Alexander Afanasev, Russian Fairy Tales, translated by Norbert Guberman (New York: Pantheon Books Inc., 1945), 163.
47.) Tristan Landry. “Words Tell the Tale: The Motivation Behind A.N. Afanasev’s Editing of Sources From the Archive of the Russian Geographical Society for His ‘Narodnye Russkie Skazki.’” Revue des Études Slaves 85, no. 1 (2014), 26.
48.) Ibid., 26.
49.) Ibid., 33.
50.) Ibid., 33.
51.) Vladimir Yakovlevich Propp, The Russian Folk Tale, translated by Sibelan Forrester, (Detroit: Wayne State University, 2012).
52.) Ibid., 56.
53.) Ibid., 56.