I found this travelogue of Danish author Hans Scherfig’s 1950 trip to the USSR. I think it will be of interest to people here so I have translated it. The illustrations are by Scherfig himself.
In this chapter Scherfig visits the Writer’s Union and talk about conditions for writers, free speech. The socialist realist movement is explained. We also learn about Soviet reading culture, libraries and newspapers.
Travels in the Soviet Union

Table of Contents
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
Chapter 13
There was a bookshop in the Stalingrad airport, and another in the waiting lounge at Moscow’s airport. Books are being sold everywhere in this country. In the parks of Kiev and amid the ruins of Stalingrad, there were bookstalls. On the streets of Moscow you can buy Pushkin and Gogol as easily as ice cream and cigarettes; books are laid out on folding tables along the sidewalk, and when you glance at the titles you see that what is first and furnish on offer are the works of the classics. Naturally there are ordinary bookshops here, just as in Copenhagen, but you will also find books for sale in theatre and cinema foyers, at railway and metro stations, in factories and workshops, in cafeterias and restaurants, on river steamers, in parks, in clubs, on sports fields, in museums.
You can pick up a volume of Mayakovsky’s poems at a tram stop, take a Chekhov play with you on the plane, buy a collection of Gorky stories at a mess hall—that is how I have seen it happen. In a beer hall, a construction worker grew so excited when he learned that Carlo Hermansen was a bricklayer that he gave him a book by Tolstoy he had just bought out on the street. Another stranger joined in and began criticising Tolstoy and praising Dostoevsky, his favourite poet, and a long literary discussion ensued.
The geography book of my childhood said that only a very small part of the Russian population knew how to read and write. Now they are the most reading people on earth. The print runs of books are enormous; a book that appears in an edition of only 40,000 to 50,000 never even reaches the open market, because the libraries alone take up that entire edition. In 1939 there were 240,000 libraries in the Soviet Union with a stock of half a billion volumes. Now the number is smaller; the German supermen did not like books, and they succeeded, with their extraordinary technical skill, in destroying the libraries wherever they came, and in burning and destroying a very large number of books; they had learned the trade at home, and they had brought experts with them. The restoration of the libraries in the devastated areas is regarded as one of the most important cultural tasks, and considerable progress has already been made. There have been complaints that paper production since the war has failed to keep up with the public’s appetite for reading. Shortly before our arrival, the Russian papers published a criticism by authors of the minister in charge of the paper industry, phrased in such sharp terms that anything of the kind at home would doubtless have resulted in a libel suit. Sharp criticism of the authorities — even of a named minister — is, however, not at all unusual in the Soviet Union.
In 1945, 293 million books were published in the entire Union. In 1949, 683.5 million books were issued. Since the revolution, over a million different books have appeared, with a total print run of 13 billion. This year, 7,700 different newspapers are published in the Soviet Union in approximately 70 languages. Every region has its own newdpaper, published in Russian as well as the local tongue. Currently, there are 1,400 periodicals in circulation. These figures were supplied by the writer Lev Oshanin at a reception given by the Moscow Writers’ Union for Anker Kirkeby, Evald Rasmussen, and me. The short speeches we gave on that occasion were quoted in the press and caused a great deal of commotion in the Danish newspapers, where Anker Kirkeby in particular was strongly attacked, because he (as “Social-Demokraten” wrote) had spoken “with sympathy” about the Soviet Union.
The Writers’ Union is housed in the beautiful palace known from the description of the Rostov family’s dwelling in Tolstoy’s “War and Peace”. Here we met, among others, Lev Oshanin, Vadim Koshevnikov, Vera Inber, who in her latest book has depicted Leningrad under siege, and our good friend Professor I. I. Anisimov, who has worked hard to promote Danish literature in the Soviet Union. I asked what fate a critical, satirical authorship would have in the Soviet Union, and Oshanin answered that criticism and satire were welcome and necessary. We are not enthusiastic about everything here, we have good use for satire.—
—What role does the Writers’ Union play?—
—The Writers’ Union is first and foremost a trade union and has the same extensive administrative tasks as the other trade unions of the Soviet Union. It administers sanatoria, hospitals, health insurance, holiday homes, kindergartens, and so forth. It attends to the writers’ housing conditions. It ensures that an author who falls ill continues to receive his usual average income. It provides the author with peace to work, so that he has no economic worries in the time he is working on a larger task. It distributes one million rubles each year for travels for authors. And the considerable material resources at the Union’s disposal do not come out of authors’ royalties, but are provided by the publishing houses and by the theatres.
— How does a young experimental writer fare here? —
— We consider it a matter of honour to take care of the young. There are journals that publish only the work of debutants. Furthermore, every literary journal feels duty-bound to publish a young author at least once a year; should a journal neglect this obligation, it will be boycotted by the senior writers. We have one hundred and sixty literary journals and several literary newspapers. Within the Writers’ Union there is a special committee that works with young authors—we invite them to Moscow and discuss their work with them. Moreover, every factory and every institution has its literary circles, and most newcomers have their pieces printed in the factory papers. —
We learned that the Writers’ Union maintains a special literary academy, a centre for literary research. But above all it is a literary college, the only one of its kind in the world, a sort of university with teachers and students, divided into departments of dramatic literature, the novel and short story, historical literature, criticism, and so forth. It was founded sixteen years ago on the initiative of Maxim Gorky.
— By what process do you enter this academy? —
— There is an entrance exam covering general literary subjects, and students must submit an independent piece of literary work. It is organized along much the same lines as the Academy of Arts. —
— Is it necessary to have a degree from this academy to get your literary works published? —
— No. Of course not. It is a matter of talent. There are hundreds of literary debutants who have never attended the writers’ academy. —
— Can you learn to be a poet? —
— No, you cannot. But at the literary school you can acquire the necessary knowledge, a general literary culture. —
— Is there state censorship in the Soviet Union? —
— No. —
— But if there is only one publisher — a state publisher — then it amounts to the same thing as censorship, does it not? —
— There are many publishers here, about 200 in all, and several are tied to cultural and social state institutions. The Russian Academy of Sciences, for instance, runs a major publishing operation for scientific literature. The Ministry of Education issues the schoolbooks and also has a children’s book press. The Communist Youth League has its own publisher for youth literature as well. But the Writers’ Union has its own publishing house, which is the largest in the Soviet Union; it is not a state institution, we are our own masters here, it is we who decide. In every single republic the writers’ unions have their own publishing houses and their own journals. —
— What are the rates for authors? —
— The standard fee is 3,000 rubles per sheet for the first edition — and with the print runs they regularly produce, that can amount to ten times as much. —
Writers in the Soviet Union enjoy exceptionally good working conditions and material circumstances. Talent is valued. Capacity and knowledge command respect. But talent also entails obligations to society. The writer cannot hold himself apart; you do not write for yourself, but for your fellow human beings. It is a direct requirement of the Writers’ Union that its members maintain contact with their readers. Writers and critics alike meet regularly with their audience — in factory clubs, on collective farms, in youth leagues, at soldiers’ meetings, and in student societies. They read from their works, they explain their books, they hear out criticism and objections, they debate with their readers, they reply to questions. It is not uncommon, either, for writers to speak of the work they have in hand, setting forth their plans, difficulties, and ideas. That this contact is of the very greatest importance to the writers themselves is self-evident.
— Are writers required to join the Writers’ Union? —
— No. It’s voluntary. There are some who’d rather stay outside, and that’s up to them. —
— How many members does the union have? —
— About 3,000 altogether. —
— How do you become a member? —
— You’re admitted on the recommendation of a special committee. —
— How long has the union existed in its current form? —
— The Soviet Writers’ Union was founded at a congress in 1932. That put an end to years of literary feuding between different writers’ groups. Two years later, at the August 1934 congress, Maxim Gorky, as president of the congress, formulated the programme of socialist realism as the foundation for artistic and literary work. —
Socialist realism is not a dogma, but a working method which places literature in the service of mankind. Gorky said in his famous speech at the congress: “Socialist realism affirms life as action, as creation, whose goal is the development of man’s most valuable individual qualities in order to promote his victory over the forces of nature, in order to promote his health and vitality, in order to build a happy existence upon this earth which man, on the basis of his ever-growing demands, must work, so that it may become a beautiful abode for humankind united in a great family.”
This realism is in accordance with the very essence of Soviet society, while resting at the same time upon the traditions of classical Russian literature. The positive attitude toward reality is just as natural in the Soviet Union as escapism, reverie, and mysticism are natural during the period of dissolution of Western culture. When Gorky set forth his programme, it was no invention or contrivance of his own, but a tendency that had already manifested itself in Soviet literature after the disputes of the first revolutionary period among futurists, machine-romanticists, culture-nihilists, Serapion brothers, and whatever the many different tendencies of the transitional period were called.
Gorky’s words concerning the youth of literature, the beginners, are Nordamerika: “Why is this writers’ congress being held, and what goals shall the association set for itself? If it is solely for the professional welfare of literature, it has scarcely been worth the trouble to make so much of it. I believe that the association must aim not merely at the professional interests of writers, but at literary interests in general. The Writers’ Union ought to some degree to assume leadership of the army of beginners, organise it, allocate its energies across different tasks, and teach them to work with material from both the past and the present … our congress must be not merely a report to our readers, not merely a parade of our talent. It must assume the organisation of literature, the schooling of young writers for work that matters to the whole union, such as our understanding of our homeland’s past and present.”
We were told about the library service, which, like industry and agriculture, trade and transport, is included in the five-year plan, where each year has its specific target that must be reached. Tens of thousands of Liberty officials are trained at 29 vocational schools and two academies. Industry has a special plan for library equipment; for instance, at one of the automobile factories a special standard type of library shelving is manufactured, adapted to the system and equipment of the central libraries. Mobile libraries are common where distances are great, and library ships are stationed in the harbours, as we saw in Stalingrad.
Libraries are not simply places where books may be borrowed. They are usually attached to workplaces. Every workshop club has a ‘cultural leader’ who, among other things, organises systematic propaganda for the library. The publishers also hold regular meetings and conferences where they account for their work and present their plans to library staff, bookshop staff, and the cultural leaders of the factories. Furthermore, they hold information meetings where they discuss with readers.
The Russian writers also asked us a number of questions regarding the conditions of writers in Denmark. They wanted to know, among other things, how freedom of expression fared there. I answered that freedom of speech was guaranteed us in the Danish constitution, yet in the interest of truth I was obliged to mention that editor Børge Houmann, shortly before our departure from Denmark, had been sentenced to prison and fined for having spoken about the Ministry of Justice and the prosecuting authority’s handling of a wartime collaboration case[1].
“Will you be able to write freely about your impressions of the Soviet Union?” we were asked. I do not recall what Anker Kirkeby answered; I myself replied that in Denmark we have 302 daily newspapers. If we wished to write disparagingly about the Soviet Union, 301 of them were open to us. If we wished to tell the truth, we could only get it printed in the one. But theoretically, we were at liberty to acquire the majority shareholding in the joint-stock companies Politiken or Berlingske Tidende[2].
— We know Denmark well through Martin Andersen Nexø[3], — Osjanin said. — The young people of Denmark have clear eyes; we know what they achieved under the German occupation, and we look forward to hearing Denmark’s voice in the common struggle for peace. —
Many people sent their regards to Nexø. Vera Inber asked me to pass on her greetings as well. She had visited Copenhagen in 1934 to lecture on Soviet literature and Soviet women. Martin Andersen Nexø had introduced her that evening. — We were photographed for a newspaper, — Vera Inber said. — I rather think it was for Politiken, — she added, smiling at Kirkeby. — But when the photograph appeared in the paper, the editors had cropped Nexø out. I find that symbolic. But you cannot simply cut us away from each other. You cannot divide us. We will work together for the same great goal: peace in the world. —
Original Danish text
#Rejse i Sovjetunionen
- Hans Scherfig, 1950
XIII.
Der var en bogbutik i lufthavnen i Stalingrad, og det var en bogbutik i ventesalen i Moskvas lufthavn. Alle vegne i dette land bliver der solgt bøger. I Kijevs parker og mellem Stalingrads ruiner var der boglader. På gaderne i Moskva kan man købe værker af Pusjkin og Gogol på samme måde, som man kan købe iskager og cigaretter, man ser bøger udstillet på klapborde på fortovet, og når man kigger på bogtitlerne, ser man, at det især er klassikernes værker, der falbydes. Der er naturligvis almindelige boghandlerforretninger ligesom i København, men der sælges også bøger i teatrenes og biografernes foyer’er, på jernbane- og metrostationerne, i fabrikker og værksteder, i kantiner og restauranter, på flodbådene, i parkerne, i klubberne, på sportspladserne, i museerne.
Man kan købe sig en digtsamling af Majakovskij ved et sporvognsstoppested, man tager et drama af Tjekov med i flyvemaskinen, man køber et bind noveller af Gorkij i marketenderier, sådan har jeg set det foregå. På en ølstue var der en bygningshåndværker, der blev så begejstret over at få at vide, at Carlo Hermansen var murer, at han forærede ham en bog af Tolstoj, som han lige havde købt på gaden udenfor. En anden fremmed mand blandede sig i samtalen og gav sig til at kritisere Tolstoj og rose Dostojevskij, som var hans yndlingsdigter, og der udviklede sig en længere litterær diskussion.
I min barndoms geografibog stod der, at kun en ganske lille del af det russiske folk kunne læse og skrive. Nu er det verdens mest læsende folk. Bøgernes oplag er enorme; en bog, som kun udkommer i et oplag på 40-50.000, når overhovedet ikke at komme ud i fri handel, fordi bibliotekerne alene lægger beslag på dette oplag. I 1939 var der 240.000 biblioteker i Sovjetunionen med en bogbestand på en halv milliard bind. Nu er den mindre, de tyske overmennesker kunne ikke lide bøger, og det lykkedes for dem med deres overordentlige tekniske dygtighed at ødelægge bibliotekerne, hvor de nåede frem, og brænde og destruere et meget stort antal bøger; de havde øvelsen hjemmefra, og de havde eksperter med. At genoprette bibliotekerne i de hærgede områder betragtes som en af de vigtigste kulturelle opgaver, og man er allerede nået langt. Der er blevet klaget over, at papirproduktionen efter krigen ikke har kunnet holde trit med læselysten. Nogen tid før vi kom, blev der i de russiske blade af forfatterne fremsat en kritik af den minister, som har ansvaret for papirindustrien, i så skarpe vendinger, at noget lignende herhjemme utvivlsomt ville have ført til injuriesag. Skarp kritik af myndigheder — også af en navngiven minister — er imidlertid ikke noget ualmindeligt i Sovjetunionen.
I 1945 blev der udgivet 293 millioner bøger i hele unionen. I 1949 blev der udsendt 683,5 millioner bøger. Siden revolutionen er der udkommet over en million forskellige bøger med et samlet oplag på 13 milliarder. I år udkommer i Sovjetunionen 7700 forskellige aviser på ca. 70 sprog. Hvert område har sin egen avis, som kommer både på russisk og på det lokale sprog. Af tidsskrifter udkommer der for tiden 1400. Det var forfatteren Leo Osjanin, som meddelte disse tal ved en modtagelse i forfatterforeningen i Moskva for Anker Kirkeby, Evald Rasmussen og mig. De korte taler, vi holdt ved den lejlighed, blev citeret i pressen og afstedkom en hel del postyr i de danske aviser, hvor navnlig Anker Kirkeby blev stærkt angrebet, fordi han (som »Social-Demokraten« skrev) havde talt »med sympati« om Sovjetunionen.
Forfatterforeningen har til huse i det smukke palæ, som man kender fra beskrivelsen i Tolstojs »Krig og fred« af familien Rostovs bolig. Vi mødte her blandt andre Leo Osjanin, Vadim Kosjevnikov, Vera Inber, som i sin sidste bog har skildret Leningrad under belejringen, og vor gode ven professor I. I. Anisimov, som har gjort et stort arbejde for at udbrede kendskabet til dansk litteratur i Sovjetunionen. Jeg spurgte, hvilken skæbne et kritisk, satirisk forfatterskab ville have i Sovjetunionen, og Osjanin svarede, at kritik og satire var velkommen og nødvendig. Vi er ikke begejstrede for alt her, vi har god brug for satire. —
— Hvilken rolle spiller forfatterforeningen? —
— Forfatterforeningen er først og fremmest enremovedforening og har de samme omfanende administrative opgaver, som Sovjetunionens andreremovedforeninger. Den administrerer sanatorier, hospitaler, sygeforsikringen, feriehjem, børnehaver o. s. v. Den tager sig af forfatternes boligforhold. Den sørger for, at en forfatter under sygdom stadig kan bevare sin normale gennemsnitsfortjeneste. Den sørger for forfatterens arbejdsro, sådan at han ingen økonomiske bekymringer har i den tid, han arbejder på en større opgave. Den uddeler hvert år en million rubler til rejser for forfattere. Og de store materielle midler som forfatterforeningen råder over, tages ikke af honorarerne, men ydes af forlagene og af teatrene. —
— Hvordan er en ung eksperimenterende forfatter stillet her? —
— Vi betragter det som en æressag at tage os af de unge. Der er tidsskrifter, som kun optager arbejder af debutanter. Desuden føler hvert litterært tidsskrift sig forpligtet forpligtet til mindst en gang om året at trykke en ung forfatters værk, hvis et tidsskrift forsømmer denne pligt, vil det blive boykottet af de ældre skribenter. Vi har 160 litterære tidsskrifter og flere litterære aviser. Vi har inden for forfarmerforeningen et særligt udvalg, som arbejder med unge forfattere, vi inviterer dem til Moskva, og vi diskuterer deres arbejde med dem. Forøvrigt findes der på hver eneste fabrik og i hver eneste institution litterære cirkler, og de fleste debutanter får deres ting trykt i fabriksaviserne. —
Vi fik at vide, at forfatterforeningen opretholder et særligt litterært institut, som er et centrum for litterær forskning. Men det er først og fremmest en litterær højskole, den eneste i verden, et slags universitet med lærere og studenter, opdelt i afdelinger for dramatisk litteratur, roman- og novellelitteratur, historisk litteratur, kritik o. s. v. Det blev oprettet for 16 år siden på Maxim Gorkijs initiativ.
— Hvordan kommer man til at studere på denne højskole? —
— Der skal tages en adgangseksamen, som omfatter almindelige litterære emner, og studenterne må indlevere et selvstændigt litterært arbejde. Det er organiseret på omtrent samme måde som ved kunstakademiet. —
— Skal man have taget eksamen ved denne højskole for at få sine litterære arbejder trykt? —
— Nej. Naturligvis ikke. Det er et spørgsmål om talent. Der er hundreder af litterære debutanter, som aldrig har været på forfatter-højskolen. —
— Kan man lære at digte? —
— Nej, det kan man ikke. Men på den litterære skole kan man tilegne sig den nødvendige viden, den almindelige litterære kultur. —
— Er der statscensur i Sovjetunionen? —
— Nej. —
— Men hvis det kun er eet forlag — et statsforlag — så vil det jo betyde det samme som censur, ikke? —
— Der findes mange forlag her, ialt ca, 200, og en del af dem er knyttet til kulturelle og sociale statsinstitutioner. Det russiske videnskabsakademi driver f.eks. en betydelig forlagsvirksomhed for videnskabelig litteratur. Undervisningsministeriet udgiver skolebøgerne og har også forlag for børnebøger. Også det kommunistiske ungdomsforbund har et forlag for ungdomslitteratur. Men forfatterforeningen har sit eget forlag, som er det største i Sovjetunionen; det er ikke nogen statsinstitution, vi er selv herrer her, det er os, der bestemmer. I hver eneste republik har forfatterforeningerne egne forlag og egne tidsskrifter. —
— Hvordan er forfatterhonorarerne? —
— Den sædvanlige takst er 3000 rubler pr. trykark for første oplag — det kan blive til ti gange mere med de oplag, der ofte trykkes. —
Sovjetunionens forfattere har særdeles gode arbejdsbetingelser og materielle vilkår. Talent er noget, som bliver påskønnet. Man har respekt for evner og kundskaber. Men talent er også noget, der forpligter over for samfundet. Forfatteren kan ikke isolere sig, man skriver ikke for sig selv, men for sine medmennesker. Det er et direkte krav, som forfatterforeningen stiller til sine medlemmer, at de skal holde sig i kontakt med deres læsere. Både forfattere og kritikere mødes regelmæssigt med læserne, i fabriksklubberne, på kollektiv-brugene, i ungdomsforbundene, på soldatermøder og i studenterforeninger. De læser op af deres arbejder, de forklarer deres bøger, de hører på kritik og indvendinger, de diskuterer med deres læsere, de svarer på spørgsmål. Det sker også, at forfatterne fortæller om det arbejde, de er i gang med, redegør for deres planer og vanskeligheder og idéer. At denne kontakt har den allerstørste betydning for forfatterne selv er indlysende.
— Er en forfatter tvunget til at være medlem af forfatterforeningen? —
— Nej. Det er en frivillig sag. Der er nogen, som hellere vil være uden for, og det må de selv om. —
— Hvor mange medlemmer har forfatterforeningen? —
— Ialt ca. 3000. —
— Hvordan bliver man medlem? —
— Man bliver optaget efter indstilling fra en særlig komité. —
— Hvor længe har forfatterforeningen eksisteret i sin nuværende form? —
— Sovjetunionens forfatterforening blev stiftet på en forfatterkongres i 1932. Der betød afslutningen på mange års litterære stridigheder mellem forskellige forfattergrupper. To år efter, på forfatterkongressen i august 1934 formulerede kongressens præsident, Maxim Gorkijs den socialistiske realismes program som grundlag for den kunstneriske og litterære virksomhed. —
Den socialistiske realisme er ikke et dogme, men en arbejdsmetode, som stiller lineraturen i menneskenes tjeneste. Gorkij sagde i sin berømte tale på kongressen: »Den socialistiske realisme bekræfter livet som handling, som skaben, hvis mål er udviklingen af menneskets mest værdifulde individuelle egenskaber for at fremme dets sejr over naturkræfterne, for at fremme dets sundhed og levedygtighed, for at skabe et lykkeligt liv på den jord, som mennesket udfra sine stadig voksende fordringer må bearbejde, så den kan blive et skønt opholdssted for en menneskehed, forenet i en stor familie.«
Denne realisme er i overensstemmelse med selve sovjetsamfundets væsen og bygger samtidig på den klassiske russiske litteraturs traditioner. Den positive stilling til virkeligheden er ligeså naturlig i Sovjetunionen, som virkelighedsflugt, drømmeri og mystik er naturlig under den vestlige kulturs opløsningsperiode. Da Gorkij fremsatte sit program, var det ikke noget, han havde udtænkt eller opfundet, men en retning, som allerede havde manifesteret sig i sovjet-litteraturen efter den første revolutionstids stridigheder mellem futurister, maskinromantikere, kulturnihilister, Serapion-brødre, og hvad overgangstidens mange forskellige retninger nu hed.
Bemærkelsesværdige er Gorkijs ord om litteraturens unge, begynderne: »Hvorfor afholdes denne forfatterkongres, og hvilke mål vil foreningen stille sig? Hvis det kun er for litteraturens professionelle velfærd, har det næppe været ulejligheden værd at gøre så meget ud af den. Jeg mener, at foreningen skal have som mål ikke bare skribenternesremovedlige interesser, men litterære interesser i det hele taget. Forfatterforeningen bør til en vis grad påtage sig ledelsen af begyndernes armé, organisere den, fordele dens kræfter over forskellige opgaver og lære dem at arbejde med materialet både fra fortiden og fra nutiden … vor kongres skal ikke bare være en rapport til vore læsere, ikke bare en parade af vort talent. Den skal påtage sig litteraturens organisation, skolingen af de unge forfattere til det arbejde, som er betydningsfuldt for hele unionen som vor erkendelse af vort hjemlands fortid og nutid.«
Man fortalte os om biblioteksvæsenet, der lige som industri og landbrug, handel og transport indgår i femårsplanen, hvor hvert år har sit bestemte mål, som skal nås. På 29 grundskoler og to højskoler uddannes titusinder af biblioteksfunktionærer. Inden for industrien er der en særlig plan for biblioteks-materiel, f. eks. fremstilles der ved en af automobilfabrikkerne en speciel standardtype af bibliotekshylder, som tilpasset centralbibliotekernes system og materiel. Ambulante biblioteker er almindelige, hvor afstandene er store, og i havnene er der stationeret biblioteksskibe, sådan som vi så det i Stalingrad.
Bibliotekerne er ikke bare steder, hvor man kan låne bøger. De er sædvanligvis knyttet til arbejdspladser. I hvert eneste værkstedsklub er der en »kulturleder, som bl.a. organiserer en systematisk propaganda for biblioteket. Også forlagene afholder regelmæssige møder og konferencer, hvor de redege for deres arbejde og fremlægger deres planer for bibliotekspersonalet, boghandlerpersonalet og fabrikkernes kulturledere. Desuden holder de informationsmøder, hvor de diskuterer med læserne.
De russiske forfattere stillede også en del spørgsmål til os angående skribenternes vilkår i Danmark. De spurgte bl.a., hvordan det står til med ytringsfriheden. Jeg svarede, at ytringsfrihed er sikret os i Danmarks grundlov, men måtte dog sandhedens interesse nævne, at redaktør Børge Houmann kort før vor afrejse fra Danmark var blevet idømt fængsel og bøde for at have ytret sig angående justitsministeriets og anklagemyndighedens behandling af en værnemagersag.
— Vil De kunne skrive frit om Deres indtryk af Sovjetunionen? — blev der spurgt. Jeg erindrer ikke, hvad Anker Kirkeby svarede, jeg selv svarede, at vi i Danmark har 302 dagblade. Hvis vi ville skrive nedsættende om Sovjetunionen, stod de 301 os åbne. Hvis vi ville sige sandheden, kunne vi kun få der trykt i det ene. Men teoretisk stod det os frit for at erhverve aktiemajoriteten i aktieselskaberne Politiken eller Berlingske Tidende.
— Vi kender godt Danmark gennem Martin Andersen Nexø — sagde Osjanin. — Den danske ungdom har klare øjne, vi ved, hvad den udrettede under den tyske besættelse, vi venter også at høre Danmarks stemme i den fælles kamp for freden. —
Vi fik mange hilsner til Nexø. Også Vera Inber bad mig hilse. Hun havde været i København i 1934 og holdt et foredrag om sovjetlitteraturen og sovjet-kvinderne. Ved den lejlighed indledte Martin Andersen Nexø. — Vi blev fotograferet til en avis — sagde Vera Inber — jeg tror nok, det var til Politiken — sagde hun og smilede til Kirkeby. — Men da billeder kom i bladet, havde redaktionen klippet Nexø fra. Jeg synes, det er symbolsk. Men man kan ikke sådan skære os bort fra hinanden. Man kan ikke skille os. Vi vil arbejde sammen for det samme store mål, for freden i verden. —
Børge Houmann (1902-1994) was the editor in chief of the communist newspaper Land og Folk. The covered the state prosecution service’s decision to drop all charges against the large construction and civil engineering company Wright, Thomsen & Kier who had actively sought out contracts to build military installations for the German occupiers. In retaliation for the critical coverage of the suspicious circumstances of the decision, the Ministry of Justice sued Houmann for defamation. Houmann was sentenced to three months in jail and a fine of DKK 50,000. ↩︎
Politiken and Berlingske Tidende were and are two of the largest mainstream newspapers in Denmark. ↩︎
Martin Andersen Nexø (1869-1954), Danish modernist author with communist sympathies who was very popular in the people’s democracies. ↩︎


I have a US American Mark Twain collection from the 60s. The foreword mentions his popularity in the contemporary USSR. Rural themes and a satire of feudalism (A Yankee in King Arthur’s Court) were culturally resonant, and he had millions of books circulating in dozens of languages there. That would have been my thought. But of course the anthology writer has to follow the publisher’s line, where Russian and Soviet reading culture actually shows their desire for American freedom. And matter of factly sweeps away any relevance of Twain’s most famous work to modern American racism.
I appreciate your travelogue translations