Response to Anna Murashova’s contribution

Isabell A. Meske

isabell.meske@gmx.de

Response to Anna Murashova’s contribution

Introduction

Anna Murashova’s article investigates the impact of digitalization on contemporary Russian literature, particularly with regard to online publishing platforms such as Litnet and Author.Today. She examines how these platforms connect literature to political and societal transformations in Russia and approaches the material both from a perspective of digital ethnography within a geopolitical-digital framework and through close literary analysis of selected texts.

Her analytical lens is deliberately multi-perspectival, striving to integrate the view of the everyday reader with that of the academic critic. She explores the interplay between politics, authorship, and the literary marketplace, though this market is in many cases constrained or even nonexistent due to censorship and restricted opportunities for free publication. In my view, this dual focus merits greater emphasis, as it bears significant implications not only for the structure of the literary field but also for reader preferences and the evolution of narrative forms and literary language.

Murashova also points to a characteristic phenomenon of politically critical literature under authoritarian regimes: the restriction of free speech and open publication compels authors to seek alternative channels to share their ideas, stories, and political messages with a broader public. This observation invites a broader comparative perspective. Historical and political analogies – for instance, with Germany during the Third Reich or the GDR, or with more recent contexts such as Syria, Afghanistan, or China – could enhance our understanding of literary production under conditions of repression. Such comparisons illuminate how literature functions in both external and internal exile: authors publishing from abroad in their native language (or a different one) to raise international awareness of their homeland’s situation, or adapting their voice and tone to navigate the constraints of the regime from within. Inner exile can entail silence, but also subversive literary expression within the boundaries set by state censorship.

In German literature, Erich Kästner represents ax prominent case of inner exile. Though initially silenced by the Reichsschrifttumskammer,[1] he remained in Germany during the Nazi regime and later wrote film scripts, including for the DEFA production Baron Münchhausen.[2] In contrast, Nobel laureate Thomas Mann exemplifies literary activity in external exile. From his residence in the United States, he addressed both American audiences and German émigrés through his famous radio broadcasts Deutsche Hörer. However, many authors in exile were less fortunate; for most, forced migration effectively ended or severely disrupted their literary careers, leading to the loss of their critical voices. Notable German examples from this period include Heinrich Mann, Stefan Zweig, Joseph Roth, and Alfred Kerr. Even those who remained in Germany often had to radically shift their focus. Kästner, for example, transformed from a politically engaged journalist and writer of the Weimar era into a figure best known for children’s literature – largely because post-war Germany showed little appetite for critical literary engagement with its recent past. The dominant attitude was to forget the war and move on, thereby marginalizing voices of reflection and critique.

In the Russian context, Murashova argues that the emergence of politically engaged digital literature represents a kind of digitally mediated revival of the dissident literary tradition, both domestic and exilic, which was particularly vibrant in the (post-) Stalinist era and seemed to recede under Mikhail Gorbachev’s reforms. A closer examination of the mechanisms that sustained these literary movements, the authors’ social or economic survival strategies, and the means by which readers accessed such texts in the Soviet Union and its satellite states might enrich the discussion of a specifically Russian literary sphere shaped by repression.

Although I am not a specialist in Russian literature or politics, I surmise that dissident literature was read not only by exiles and ordinary citizens but also by members of the Communist Party. The cultural reverence for literature in Russia – especially for poetry – is widely acknowledged and proved resilient even under Stalin’s harshest repressions. Ironically, censorship entails that a censor must first read what is to be banned, thus potentially exposing themselves to the very ideas they seek to suppress. This paradox may even add to the allure of forbidden texts. The clandestine circulation of banned books in the post-Stalinist USSR has itself become a literary theme, as illustrated in novels like The Russia House by John le Carré.

While digital aspects are central to Murashova’s argument, it may be fruitful to consider how the very conditions of access and literary production have (or have not) changed in the transition from analog to digital eras. Comparing the dissemination, readership, and state surveillance of exile literature across these media epochs could yield further insights into both continuity and transformation in politically engaged literature.

Key messages of Murashova’s article

The article offers a nuanced examination of Russian digital literature in its intersection with technological innovation, cultural practice, and political constraint. The following six sections outline the central arguments and thematic focal points of her analysis, situating them within broader literary and socio-political contexts. Particular attention is paid to the transformation of publishing practices, the emergence of new literary forms and audiences, and the tension between creative freedom and increasing regulation. Each aspect contributes to a deeper understanding of how digital platforms in Russia reflect, negotiate, and reshape literary discourse under the conditions of contemporary authoritarianism.

• Development of the Russian Internet (Rulinet – Russian Literary Internet)

The emergence of the internet in Russia was initially conceived as a political project and soon became closely intertwined with the country’s literary culture – particularly through the digitization of Samizdat and Tamizdat literature following the collapse of the Soviet Union. While many of the most widely known texts from these movements are familiar to a broader audience, the associated Russian literary terms remain largely unknown outside of academic or specialist circles.

Samizdat refers to a form of underground self-publishing, often described as a ʻrevolution on paper’. It emphasized nonviolence and individual liberty rather than direct political confrontation with the Kremlin. In my view, the post-Soviet successors of this movement lacked the political leadership and cohesion necessary to meaningfully influence Russia’s transition after 1991 – a period characterized by the instability and fragmentation of the 1990s, culminating in Vladimir Putin’s appointment as Prime Minister in December 1999. The most emblematic text associated with Samizdat remains Alexander Solzhenitsyn’s The Gulag Archipelago.

Tamizdat, by contrast, has long been associated with exile literature. It remains prolific and, in my literary impression, broadly corresponds to what Western observers often classify as ʻcritical’ Russian literature. The most prominent example is Boris Pasternak’s Doctor Zhivago. Today, a considerable number of Russian writers continue to live and publish in exile, both physically and intellectually distanced from the political climate of the Russian Federation.

In the 1990s, platforms such as the Moshkov Library (lib.ru, founded in 1994) and, later, various commercial online publishers, provided authors with opportunities to publish independently of state oversight and traditional publishing houses. These platforms fostered a culture of political and literary awakening that often found expression in literary manifestos and political commentary. The Moshkov Library initially focused on (classical) literature but gradually developed into a broader cultural platform, incorporating journalism, music, and other (non-)literary forms of expression. In theory, such platforms could have become focal points for democratic transformation during the turbulent 1990s, a period when Russia’s national wealth – particularly its oil and gas resources – was being divided among a narrow elite of oligarchs.

Yet, the political momentum of these early digital-literary movements failed to generate lasting change. In retrospect, Putin’s consolidation of power from late 1999 onward marked a decisive turning point – a moment from which democratic development in Russia increasingly reversed. While the imposition of political restrictions became clearly visible during Russia’s invasion of Georgia in 2008, the erosion of civil liberties arguably began earlier, during the Second Chechen War (1999–2009). At the time, the systematic violation of human rights attracted limited international attention, as it was largely framed as part of the broader struggle against so-called Islamic terrorism in the North Caucasus.

From today’s perspective, these events can be interpreted as early indicators of Putin’s authoritarian consolidation, representing the first major suspension of democratic and human rights in post-Soviet Russia. Putin’s background as a former KGB officer reinforces the sense of historical continuity between the Soviet security state and his mode of governance.

Given Putin’s consistent refusal to tolerate dissent – and his record of eliminating or silencing opposition figures by any means – it becomes pertinent to ask what happened to the founders of these early literary platforms and to the authors who published through them. It is a well-documented fact that many of the surviving critics of the regime now live in exile – if they are still alive. Political dissidents have frequently faced violent repression, including targeted attacks and assassinations. A prominent example is Anna Politkovskaya, a journalist critical of both the Chechen conflict and Putin’s regime, who was assassinated in 2006 under circumstances widely attributed to Russian security services.

In light of this, it is plausible that many of those who contributed to Russia’s early digital literary renaissance were ultimately silenced – whether through exile, imprisonment, or the looming threat of political violence directed at their intellectual and literary community.

From my perspective, the emergence of critical literary internet platforms reflects, on the one hand, an attempt to integrate individual democratic aspirations and expressive freedoms into Russian cultural life. On the other hand, the expansion of these platforms during the 2000s and 2010s reveals a broader trend toward political and cultural opposition, driven in part by increasingly restrictive state policies beginning around 2008 (e. g., the war in Georgia). One might even trace this shift back further, to growing political and military tensions in the North Caucasus and to the cultural enthusiasm surrounding the rise of the World Wide Web, which gained momentum with the spread of user-friendly personal computers.

Putin’s efforts to reintegrate breakaway former Soviet republics such as Chechnya, Georgia, and now Ukraine, as well as his systematic suppression of independent political discourse – and soon thereafter literary voices – are deeply embedded in his geopolitical vision of a renewed Russian sphere of influence. This vision, often articulated under the historical banner of ʻNova Rossiya’ (ʻNew Russia’) in reference to Catherine the Great’s imperial expansionism, reflects his broader aspiration for a pan-Slavic union under centralized authoritarian rule.

• Digital Sovereignty and Censorship

Beginning in 2012, the Russian government increasingly promoted the concept of so-called digital sovereignty – ostensibly, as with many developments characteristic of the authoritarian transformation under Vladimir Putin, under the pretext of combating terrorism and criminal activities such as internet piracy. A more nuanced examination of the relationship between anti-terror legislation and the suppression of free literary expression online could offer valuable insights into both the evolution of the contemporary Russian state and the parallel rise of oppositional digital literary culture.

In this context, the tightening of political and legal frameworks appears to have led to intensified censorship and state control over digital platforms. With increasing repression, critical digital content was reportedly relocated to secure servers outside Russian jurisdiction. This externalization of dissenting voices may also help to explain the geopolitical hostility toward countries like Georgia and Ukraine – both of which have become hubs of digital innovation and may have served as channels for dissident artistic and cultural expression. This dynamic, at least in part, informs the rhetorical strategy of designating such states as ʻterrorist’ or ʻhostile’ within official Putinist discourse.

Formally, these policies targeted all forms of digital information. In practice, however, digital sovereignty became a framework for the comprehensive regulation of the media landscape, gradually extending beyond the digital sphere to include traditional forms of communication such as the press and broadcast television. In a rhetorical pattern reminiscent of Soviet-era intelligence structures, independent outlets were increasingly labelled as ‘foreign agents’. This development, which must be integrated into any critical analysis of the Russian media environment, has also entailed the exclusion of international newspapers and broadcasters, the persecution of domestic journalists, and, in extreme cases, politically motivated assassinations, such as the aforementioned murder of Anna Politkovskaya in 2006.

Against this background, one may ask to what extent similar patterns of repression have occurred within the literary-digital sphere – specifically: have authors or editors involved in critical digital literature faced imprisonment, exile, or even political violence over the past two decades? Closely linked to this question is the issue of legislative changes affecting the book market, the publishing sector, and broader conditions for cultural and intellectual expression.

Since the invasion of Ukraine in 2022, state control has intensified further. International sanctions – especially in the banking sector – have made it increasingly difficult for authors and readers outside Russia to access Russian digital platforms. Simultaneously, platform infrastructures (including operators, hosting locations, and funding models) have undergone significant shifts, as many intellectuals have either gone into exile or adopted more explicitly pro-Ukrainian, Western-leaning, and NATO-oriented perspectives. Yet this movement has not been universal. Alongside outspoken dissent, one also observes the emergence of internal exile and self-censorship, with political commentary being omitted, deleted, or never articulated in the first place.

This raises the broader question of how such developments have affected the balance between nationalistic consolidation and democratic-cultural peripherality. Has there been a significant return to a unified, state-centred literary culture aligned with the authoritarian Putin regime? Or has a centrifugal movement prevailed – one in which alternative, potentially democratic or at least nonconformist voices continued to find expression beyond the boundaries of state control? From a critical standpoint, one might surmise that fear of persecution has made the authoritarian option appear safer or at least more viable for many. The presence or absence of political texts on literary platforms becomes, in this context, a politically charged decision – one that may result in social and legal consequences and therefore incentivize silence, even in metaphorical or allegorical forms.

While Anna Murashova does not explicitly address this dimension, her analysis clearly points to the risks posed by Russia’s increasing isolation – a process already visible well before 2022 due to the particular trajectory of the Russian internet. One might cautiously ask what the most recent developments in this regard suggest. Drawing a literary-historical parallel, it is worth recalling the fate of German literature in the 1930s and 1940s: exile literature could no longer be read in its linguistic homeland, while domestic authors struggled to survive intellectually and politically under the regime.

Considering the current Russian situation, it is difficult to maintain optimism. The cultural climate bears all the hallmarks of a prolonged intellectual and literary winter – and at present, there seems to be little hope that it will end any time soon.

• Platforms as a Mirror of Social Trends

Digital platforms have emerged as the primary venue for the publication of popular literature, effectively replacing traditional publishing models and giving rise to new literary trends. This development represents a notable departure from the situation in many Western countries, where self-publishing typically coexists with the established book market – particularly in Germany, where the literary landscape is strongly shaped by translations from English.

In this context, a comparative analysis of literary platform culture in Russia and the West promises to yield valuable insights. Political literature in Western contexts often takes the form of non-fiction, including political commentary, reportage, and essays. Satirical writing also plays a role, though it tends to focus more on social behaviours and cultural trends than on systemic political critique. Digital platforms in the West are frequently associated with literary subcultures and niche formats, such as fan fiction, speculative fiction, or erotic literature.

An in-depth comparison of these platform-based phenomena could provide a clearer picture of convergences and divergences between Russian and Western developments. One area of interest is the distribution of satire: to what extent does it appear in online literary formats, and in which political or cultural registers?

In Western contexts, much of the politically engaged literary discourse unfolds on social media platforms such as YouTube or Instagram. Here, authors manage personal accounts and curate their public personas – often with the support of publishers or literary agents. Writers like Wladimir Kaminer or Marc-Uwe Kling, for instance, participate actively in public political discourse. In contrast, the Russian-speaking literary community appears to rely more heavily on text-based, dedicated publishing platforms. The extent to which other forms of literary expression – capable of enabling free or semi-free speech – exist within the Russian digital sphere remains a topic worthy of further exploration.

Notably, platforms such as Litnet and Author.Today exhibit a pronounced gender-specific segmentation. This contrasts with Western platforms, which are more commonly organized by genre, literary form, or fan affiliation. Litnet, for instance, is dominated by female-centered genres such as romantic fiction, whereas Author.Today tends to cater to male-centered genres like military fantasy and alternative history. These differences in platform orientation suggest the influence of deeper cultural and sociological factors, and thus merit closer scholarly attention.

The content on Russian platforms often reflects prevailing social and political dynamics, including representations of gender roles and the construction of historical narratives. Similar phenomena are observable on international platforms such as Archive of Our Own (AO3) or FanFiction.net, though the thematic orientation in those spaces is typically more focused on fandoms and reinterpretations of existing cultural products. While tropes like alternative history and time travel do appear, they are usually embedded in romantic or socially reflective frameworks, rather than functioning as direct political critique or historiographical intervention. It remains an open question how exceptional the Russian case truly is in this regard, and where structural or thematic parallels to Western platforms may in fact exist.

It is also worth noting that in Western fiction-oriented forums, women make up most of both authors and readers. However, whether this trend should be interpreted as a form of female empowerment or rather as an expression of women’s engagement with literary forms that lie outside the commercial mainstream remains debated. The question is further complicated by legal and ethical considerations, as many such works border on copyright violations or are based on derivative use of pre-existing fictional material. Nonetheless, the use of keyword strategies in teaser texts and headlines on Western platforms seems to mirror trends found on Russian counterparts – indicating at least a shared logic of visibility and algorithmic engagement.

Unlike the ideological segregation of gendered genres observed on Russian platforms, many Western forums exhibit a tendency to blur such distinctions. Genres, themes, and audience demographics often overlap, reflecting a more fluid and inclusive literary culture. The distinct gender divide in Russian digital literature, by contrast, invites further sociological investigation. One might hypothesize that these divisions stem from cultural norms or identity constructs – particularly among male users – where dominant, hyper-masculine narratives are favored, perhaps as a reflection of a specific self-conception aligned with strength, control, and nationalistic ideals.

• Political Dimensions of Texts

Although most texts on Russian literary platforms are primarily oriented toward entertainment, they frequently convey implicit political and societal messages. These may take the form of gender representations – particularly constructions of femininity and masculinity – as well as reinterpretations of historical events. Simultaneously, such platforms create space for the articulation of perspectives that are otherwise marginalized in public discourse, thereby enabling subtle forms of dissent and cultural intervention.

This observation invites the hypothesis that the literary quality of works published on these platforms may in certain respects surpass that of their Western equivalents – particularly those disseminated via commercial self-publishing services such as Kindle Direct Publishing. The latter is often dominated by formulaic genre literature, especially in the fields of romance and erotica, frequently characterized by a high degree of sexualization and limited narrative or political ambition. In contrast, the implicit sociopolitical content found in Russian online literature – especially under conditions of censorship and state control – may indicate a more nuanced and indirect form of engagement with urgent political and historical themes.

This raises the broader question of how stark the divide between these two publishing cultures truly is. A comparative quantitative analysis of genre distribution – across categories such as revisionist history, time travel, romance, erotica, and politically themed narratives –would offer valuable empirical grounding. In the Russian context, metaphorical treatments of topics such as the Ukraine crisis or questions of national identity illustrate how authors navigate politically sensitive terrain through symbolic or allegorical means. These indirect modes of engagement are not required in open societies, but in authoritarian contexts they function as strategic tools for evasion, resistance, or coded critique.

A comparative perspective that includes Chinese digital literary culture might further enrich the analysis. In China, metaphorical or allegorical expression has become a widespread strategy in online communication, developed in response to extensive state surveillance and censorship mechanisms. Exploring these parallels could help to contextualize the Russian case within a broader field of digital dissent under authoritarian regimes.

A literary-historical analogy may also be instructive. For instance, Felix Salten’s Bambi – written in the 1920s – has been interpreted as a metaphorical reflection of Austro-German societal dynamics during the interwar period and their trajectory toward fascism. The use of allegory in such texts to circumvent direct political confrontation resonates with the strategies observable in both Russian and Chinese digital literary environments. This suggests the potential for a transhistorical and transcultural comparison of metaphor as a literary technique of political displacement and narrative survival under conditions of repression.

• Restrictions and Opportunities

On the one hand, digital platforms provide spaces in which marginalized voices can articulate their perspectives and experiences. On the other hand, participation in these platforms requires a degree of conformity – not only to prevailing audience expectations but also to the constraints imposed by governmental regulation. As a consequence, mainstream tastes often dominate, which may result in the reproduction of conventional stereotypes rather than the cultivation of meaningful political or aesthetic discourse.

Nevertheless, Murashova underscores the platforms’ capability to engage with socially relevant topics that are frequently overlooked in mainstream literary discourse or even suppressed by political censorship. She references, for example, discussions concerning the role of women in the context of divorce. Yet this raises the question of how far such engagement truly extends: To what extent do these texts move beyond the trivial or commonplace? And how frequently do they offer genuinely critical perspectives rather than reaffirming socially accepted narratives? The boundaries between superficial engagement and substantial literary-political reflection remain blurred and warrant further investigation.

The role of algorithms is also critical in this context. Platform mechanisms tend to amplify content that garners high user engagement, thereby shaping not only literary visibility but also the development of broader literary trends. While this phenomenon reflects audience interests, it is debatable to what extent it contributes to the advancement of literature as an art form. The emphasis on popularity may favor stylistic simplicity and conventional narrative structures over linguistic experimentation or thematic complexity.

From an educational standpoint, however, these platforms may nevertheless offer important opportunities – particularly with regard to promoting general literacy and stimulating interest in reading among a broad and often otherwise disengaged public. Murashova acknowledges that this comes at the cost of literary refinement, yet she suggests that the societal benefits may outweigh the aesthetic compromises.

Still, comparable tendencies within the young adult (YA) genre raise concerns. A pronounced focus on market appeal in this domain has been associated with a simplification of language, including the reduction of vocabulary range, the loss of complex syntactic structures, and the erosion of more nuanced verbal forms. These developments are not merely literary; they are linguistic and cultural, with possible long-term implications for the expressive capacity of a language community.

From a pedagogical perspective, these trends are increasingly visible in educational settings as well. The observable decline in syntactic variety and lexical richness among younger readers and writers may reflect a broader shift in linguistic norms, shaped in part by platform-based literary consumption. Considering this, it becomes essential to ask how such developments influence the trajectory of Russian literature more generally. Does the growing dominance of algorithmically curated, audience-optimized writing signal a lasting transformation in the function and form of literary production?

• Diminishing Freedom

The increasing regulation of digital spaces and the expansion of state intervention have significantly undermined the original function of Russian literary platforms as free and open arenas for expression. This shift is particularly evident in relation to content representing non-normative identities and lifestyles, such as LGBTQ+ themes or narratives concerning women who consciously choose to remain childfree. These developments reflect broader sociopolitical dynamics in Russia and highlight the narrowing boundaries of acceptable discourse.

In stark contrast, many international platforms – especially those operating under more liberal or pluralistic frameworks – continue to allow or even promote a broader spectrum of perspectives. These platforms typically operate with fewer ideological constraints, enabling the visibility and articulation of marginalized voices. It would therefore be valuable to explore whether such voices are gaining visibility in these freer environments, or whether broader global trends – such as platform monetization, algorithmic bias, or rising cultural conservatism – are also contributing to new forms of restriction.

This contrast raises important questions regarding the conditions under which digital literary cultures either facilitate or suppress minority perspectives. While Russian platforms increasingly reflect a retrenchment into state-sanctioned normativity, international platforms may simultaneously offer both opportunities and limitations. It remains to be examined whether marginalized voices in global digital literary spaces are experiencing increased resonance or encountering new forms of silencing, shaped less by direct censorship than by structural mechanisms of exclusion.

Conclusion

Murashova argues convincingly that Russian online publishing platforms are simultaneously products of geopolitical and cultural developments and arenas in which literary and societal hierarchies are being reconfigured. While these platforms do offer opportunities for participation and alternative modes of authorship, they are increasingly shaped – and limited – by mechanisms of state control and audience-driven content curation.

Her analysis draws on a multifaceted approach, combining technological, political, and literary perspectives to illuminate the complex interplay between digital infrastructure and the evolution of Russian literary culture in the 21^st century. Notably, many structural features of these platforms resemble those of international online author communities. However, the key point of divergence lies in the heightened politicization of both content and authorship in the Russian context – an aspect that reflects the specific pressures and historical legacies of the post-Soviet cultural sphere.

In this sense, Russian digital literature not only mirrors global trends in participatory publishing but also reveals how literary production becomes entangled with ideological contestation under conditions of restricted freedom and intensified state influence.