Homage to Solzhenitsyn

"Is it possible that we are again on our way toward the rule of violence and tyranny? Is art, after sparkling before us in a few--and certainly not in all --colors of the rainbow, destined again to be painted in just one color?"

The questions are asked by Russian Geneticist Zhores Medvedev, a leading Soviet intellectual and close friend of the man who for years has had to bear the weight of official Soviet censorship --Alexander Solzhenitsyn. That such questions are being put forward by a Soviet citizen who has been given official permission to live in London for a year --and presumably could be "recalled" home for simply asking them--is significant enough. Even more important, they have been raised in the first biography by a Russian of the country's greatest living novelist.

Ten Years After One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, which will be initially published (in Russian) by Macmillan of London this week, is described by Medvedev as a Festschrift (German for a written homage). In part, it is a vivid account of an artist who has struggled to write and publish under extraordinarily hazardous conditions. Ten Years is also a detailed analysis of Soviet cultural life from Nikita Khrushchev's brief era of liberalization in 1962 (when One Day was published in the Soviet Union) down through the repressive climate of the present day.

Tragic History. At the center of the book is the tragic literary history of Solzhenitsyn. Ironically, his troubles began with the publication of One Day by the literary magazine Novy Mir in 1962.

Eventually that book became an increasingly intolerable burden to the new leadership of the Communist Party. In the shifts of party policy that followed Khrushchev's downfall, mere mention of any crimes committed in the Stalinist era was anathema. Friends of Solzhenitsyn who tried to defend his subsequent anti-Stalinist books (including The Cancer Ward and The First Circle) were condemned by the official press, and many lost their jobs. Solzhenitsyn himself was ousted from the Soviet Writers Union in 1969.

Alexander Tvardovsky, one of Russia's best-known poets, had published One Day while editor of Novy Mir. He soon fell into disgrace and was forced to leave the magazine. At his funeral in 1971, writes Medvedev, no friends were allowed to give eulogies. The ceremonies were strictly supervised by party functionaries who made no mention of Tvardovsky's role in the publication of Russia's great postwar novel.

Medvedev singles out a number of people who have made notable efforts to discredit Solzhenitsyn. For instance, Culture Minister Yekaterina Furtseva helped prevent Solzhenitsyn from receiving the 1964 Lenin Prize for Literature, one of the Soviet Union's most prestigious awards. Medvedev also attacks Victor Louis, a roaming Soviet correspondent noted for providing leaks on Soviet policy shifts to the Western press. The author describes him as a "special agent of the KGB." Louis, claims Medvedev, planted a stolen copy of Solzhenitsyn's The Cancer Ward with the Russian emigre publication Posev, which is based in West Germany. Since this magazine is considered an anti-Soviet journal, its publication of a book by a Russian writer may constitute grounds for arrest and imprisonment.

Interestingly enough, Medvedev reserves some of his strongest criticism for Western publishers. Solzhenitsyn, he writes, was "appalled" by the poor translations of One Day. Further, says Medvedev, Dial Press and Farrar, Straus & Giroux published The Cancer Ward without permission (the publishers deny it). Medvedev also claims that Praeger Publishers ignored his repeated requests on behalf of Solzhenitsyn that they provide rare drugs for a dying Russian girl from royalties that the company had agreed to pay the writer for

One Day. A Praeger spokesman has denied this charge, too, insisting that "there never was any question of our refusing to pay royalties to Solzhenitsyn."

Perhaps the worst villains in the book are the Swedes. According to Medvedev, Gunnar Jarring, the Swedish ambassador to Moscow, did not even send a customary cable of congratulations to Solzhenitsyn when he won the Nobel Prize. If the Swedes had offered to help Solzhenitsyn receive the prize instead of backing away timidly after learning of Soviet displeasure, Medvedev argues, the Russians would have granted Solzhenitsyn the right to return to his homeland, which otherwise he feared would be refused him.

Direct Approach. Why has Medvedev risked his Soviet citizenship by publishing the book now? In conversation with TIME Correspondent Lawrence Malkin in London last week, Medvedev disclosed that he had completed the biography before he was granted permission to leave the Soviet Union. When he learned that the U.S.S.R. was going to join the Universal Copyright Convention on May 27, he decided that he would publish the book as soon as possible. He obviously was convinced that the new copyright law would enable Soviet officials to censor writers who are critical of Soviet society.

Moreover, said Medvedev, once the deadline has passed, "a direct approach [to a publisher] may become a criminal matter." As for whether he will be allowed to go home again, Medvedev remarked dryly that Soviet officials "must read the book and make their own decisions."

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