Iamshchikov, Iakov.

[PRE-GULAG PRISON JOURNAL AND WALL NEWSPAPER] Draft of the 1926 prison wall newspaper “Zaria.”

[Soviet Union], dated 1926. 17 leaves of typescript and manuscript text glued into a staple-stitched lined notebook measuring 20 × 16 cm, with two additional leaves laid in, with minor author corrections to text. Original wrappers detached, with front wrapper lacking; slight discoloration, creases, and traces of glue to leaves. About good. Item #55798

A unique document of the early Soviet prison system, this typescript and manuscript is a draft of the prison wall newspaper Zaria [The dawn], written by the incarcerated person Iakov Iamshchikov, of whom nothing else is known. The notebook features 15 completed texts, twelve of which are poems about incarceration. In the introductory prose text, titled “The Newspaper is Our Oldest Friend,” Iamshchikov laments that the prison wall newspaper “Zaria” [The dawn] is “fading.” The author complains about the prisoners’ lack of initiative and the fact that no one supports the wall newspaper, forcing him to write most of the texts on his own: “Why don’t they write? From conversations with the prisoners, I’ve learned that most of them are afraid, while others cite lack of space. In my opinion, the first reason is absurd in its own way; the second, though worthy of consideration, isn’t entirely valid either. The editorial board guarantees that correspondents will not be subjected to any administrative punitive measures for their accurate articles.” Iamshchikov identifies himself as a member of the prison Cultural Commission, a role he may have undertaken in order to endear himself to the prison authorities in order to reduce his sentence, a practice that would have been more common in the so-called “Isparvdom” or Rehabilitation-Labor Colonies set up by the new Soviet government to house less dangerous prisoners. The colonies were set up on the premises of Russian Imperial prisons, but promised a more enlightened approach of re-education of prisoners through political literacy and labor. Another prose text titled “Well, what is today?” is pro-communist in nature, contrasting the boredom of prison life, with the author’s memories of attending the viewing of Lenin’s body as he lay in state in January 1924 prior to his burial. Judging by this memory, it is likely that Iamshchikov was from the Moscow region, and was in prison for no more than two years at the time of the writing of this text.

The poems in the collection include titles such as “Blat” (Corruption), urging prisoners not to seek special favors within the prison system, “Son” (A dream), in which the author imagines a reunion with his family, and “Vot i ona” (Here she is: dedicated to the Distribution Commission), in which the author describes his anxiety before the meeting with the prison Distribution Commission, and the pain of those whose cases remained unreviewed. Another notable text, “Tebe posviashchiaiu ia gor'kie strochki” (I dedicate these bitter lines to you) is a recollection of a meeting with someone within the prison system that left a deep impression on the author. Judging by the lines “you forced me to confess” and “because of you I came to my senses” the meeting was either with a priest or an investigator or some other representative of the prison administration, rather than a friend or fellow inmate. Several of the texts explicitly mention re-education through work, with one poem concluding with the ambiguous lines: “And these chains / Will be left behind for generations / Of people like us / But outside of prison / A bright future lies ahead / Be steadfast... Strive on / WORKERS OF THE WORLD UNITE”. It is unclear if these texts were ever published as part of the wall newspaper as intended, which would have required their approval by priosn censorship. Rehabilitation-Labor Colonies would cease to exist in 1933, with this volume a direct artifact of the pre-GULag era and early experiments in the Soviet re-education of prisoners.

Price: €1,250.00

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