![]() ![]() So much, even, for workers of the world uniting to throw off their chains. So much for Marxist conceits around “from each according to his abilities, to each according to his needs.” So much for the dictatorship of the proletariat. ![]() The first to go is the guy who licks out bowls, puts his faith in the infirmary, or squeals to the screws.” ![]() “It’s the law of the jungle here, fellows. Once, by a fire in a forest clearing, he’d said to a new batch of men, just brought in from the front: Shukhov could still hear the words of his first gang boss, Kuzyomin – an old camp hand who’d already been inside for twelve years in 1943. Here, in a “special regime” camp in the late 1940s, that’s serious – by nightfall, he could be just another dokhodiaga, a “goner,” waiting to die. This hour after reveille is usually the time that he gets up and busies himself looking for little jobs to do for other prisoners – perhaps in exchange for a bit of extra food or for an unspecified return favor somewhere down the line. Ivan Denisovich Shukhov, a convict, is lying in his bunk. Survival and Grace in Solzhenitsyn’s One Day in the Life of Ivan DenisovichĪleksandr Solzhenitsyn’s One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich begins as it ends – in the freezing darkness of a prison camp barracks, with a hundred sleeping men wrapped in every shred of clothing they have in a vain effort to escape the terrifying cold of a Siberian winter. ![]() WHERE WOLVES WARM THEMSELVES IN THE LIGHT OF THE MOON ![]()
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