Kavalerov’s Artistic Defamiliarization: The Power to Shape Reality
How do we shape our realities? Do we have this power? The defamiliarization style of descriptions and the motif of distorted imagery in Yuri Olesha’s Envy offer an opportunity to investigate these questions. Set in the 1920s in Soviet Russia, Envy is about a pathetic and alienated man, Nikolai Kavalerov, who develops his own reality in his struggle against the new structure of communist society. Envy follows his descent into greater resentment towards and envy of his benefactor, Andrei Babichev. The book feels expressionistic in style; Kavalerov lends artistic flair to his descriptions with an emphasis on the obscure details and impressions of visual forms. Dreams, fantasies, and lies are presented as reality, and even the descriptions that seem closer to a shared reality are so colorfully described they become distorted. While this may initially be interpreted as his inner-artist’s appreciation for visual intrigue, this motif supports Kavlerov’s overall distorted and paranoid perceptions of reality.
This motif also provides, perhaps surprisingly, an interesting lense through which to analyze the modern-day proliferation of curated and distorted images in social media profiles. Under a modern lense, this distortion of imagery takes on new significance with the power social media platforms give us for the proliferation of our own personal views and realities; Facebook and Instagram provide easy access to large audiences and even photo-altering filters. The phenomena of imagery distortion and curation is even more prolific in the modern era. The style of defamiliarizing descriptions and imagery presented as Kavalerov’s reality, are also tools for the disillusioned and envious man, helping him distance and control his own constructed reality. Kavalerov’s story gives us a look at the power and impacts of image distortion and the sorts of motives that drive it.
The style of Envy illustrates the power of imagery to reframe reality. Initially Kavalerov’s descriptions do little to truly distort reality: playfully, the light through Andrei’s bathroom door becomes an egg: “he flicks the switch, the oval lights up from inside, and it becomes a beautiful opalescent egg” (Olesha 5) or the vase becomes a flamingo “a vase made of the finest porcelain, cured, tall, glowing red as if blood pulsed through it gently” (9). Similarly, social media often has an air of playfulness and artistry: Instagram provides filters to morph peoples faces into smiling puppy dogs, or give them flower crowns, users add filters or saturate the colors to make photos pop. It’s fun to scroll through a colorful Instagram or Facebook feed, but these images are not reality. Filters do change something about a photo.
When individuals immerse themselves in this altered world, like young people and their social apps and Kavalerov with his imagination, what impact does it have? Do “normal” photos, normal life, begin to look unsatisfactory to us? It seems Kavalerov does not appreciate life without this applied creative filter, even using it as a source of superiority, leveraging these descriptions to elevate himself. He observes the tiny details of Andrei’s breakfast: how “pince-nez traverse the bridge of the nose like a bicycle; that man is surrounded by tiny inscriptions, a sprawling anthill of tiny inscriptions, on forks, spoons, saucers...” and proudly proclaims that unlike himself, “no one notices [these things]” (9). Here we see the motives behind his distortions taking shape, and we might also consider how social media might be used to similar “self-elevating” end: posting only photos of vacation, or photoshopping away perceived flaws.
Slowly we see Kavalerov’s vivid imagery and language evolve as a tool, not only for elevating himself, but also for controlling his reality. In light of his poor relationship with reality, he searches for moments of escape. Here we see his embrace of mirrors and glass, opportunities for further dissociating images from reality. In a mirror the world is flattened, becoming like a picture, a distorted aesthetic vision. Kavalerov idly watches pedestrians pass by, the trolley “rushes in front of you” but does no harm, it’s all just a picture in a mirror, Kavalerov’s own “secret world.” These reflective worlds give Kavalerov joy not only because they change reality, but also because it makes it distant; the rushing trolley cannot reach him through the mirror, and even people’s glances seem to have diminished power as Kavalerov seems so comfortable observing the young women passing by, and relishes “this advantage” he’s gained watching the people walking by behind himself (72). This is our first hint at the potential toxicity of distance: power over others. This phenomena is also apparent in the modern world of social media where people say and do things they would not in “real life," when interacting face to face rather than floating in a fake reality on the internet behind a mask of their own creation.
Another direct example of this distancing comes from Kavalerov’s use of binoculars. Instead of using binoculars to bring the world closer, he enjoys the sort of imagery produced by flipping them around “a vista opens up before you...here you have a mysterious world… with that vivid stereoscopic quality that is the exclusive power of the binoculars wrong end” (72). In the street mirror scene he directly implements this control, moving to block the face of a man approaching behind him, essentially cropping him out of his little mirror world. When he picks up a spyglass he chooses the end he looks in, choosing the distortions he wants to enact on his surroundings. In a dream-type sequence Kavalerov’s own thoughts morph. These examples demonstrate several instances where Kavalerov gains a sort of creative control over his perceived reality by simplifying words and ideas into images, associating forms purely on visual similarity rather than conceptual or logical connections (Curl).
This power of distortion can be seen in how it gives Kavalerov a means to justify his thoughts. If you can change the meanings of things, dissociate images from reality altogether, you do not have to deceive yourself, you can sculpt your own reality with ease. This power to influence a personal reality through imagery carries greater weight when applied to social media because you are no longer the only audience to this reality you create. Social media gives individuals the power to share their curated images widely and to disseminate their images and associated values and ideas. Of course, this isn't necessarily a negative thing, but images are a powerful tool regardless of motives.
So, what are Kavalerov’s motives? It seems most of his fantastical descriptions are motivated by more than just an artistic perspective on everyday life being motivated rather by a need to dissociate himself from a world he doesn’t fit into. Kavalerov is alienated and oppressed by the modern socialist Russia, lamenting “why am I so unlucky?” (Olesha 20), even after he was pulled from the gutter by Andrei Babichev and given a place to live, perhaps a chance for a fresh start which he squanders. His alienation goes further, to reality itself as seen in his struggle against physical objects, warring with anything objective from the outside world. “Things don’t like me” he claims, suggesting that furniture has malicious intent and even physically harms him “a polished corner once literally bit me” (8). Later, it is made more explicit why he might wish to escape his reality, he is a remaining agent of the old order of things, now lost in the reshuffling of society caused by the Socialist revolution. Kavalerov is vividly described as a “clot” in the dying era’s blood-stream. “The dying era envies the era that’s coming to take its place” (101). Thus, his creative vision allows him to withdraw and distance from reality. He finds reality threatening. He has been left behind by it.
However, it seems there may be many potential motives for distorting reality, especially amongst today's social media users. Social media encompasses a vast community with online personas who shouldn’t be considered as a monolith. Many use social media to actually connect more with others. Some use it to craft the life they wish they had, or to actively influence others. It would be difficult to parse the many different reasons people engage in social media, but with the lense of Envy, what’s important to recognize is that regardless of motives, crafting an online presence inevitably distances oneself from reality a bit. It is not possible to reflect all of life completely and candidly, we are forced to curate, and if we do this unthinkingly we risk reinforcing subconsciously held biases or magnifying the lenses we already use to view the world. We all curate our image even in real-life interactions, but social media allows for a certain echo-chamber effect, that feels akin to Kavalerov’s slow slip from his grounding in reality — towards the end of the book Kavalerov’s imagery becomes increasingly dream-like and disjointed as he immerses himself in a sort of echo-chamber of his mind. Kavalerov does this intentionally, and It is still a danger to him; he ends up as miserable as he started and throws away any opportunity to engage with the world honestly or to grow to accept it. He has rejected it, do we do the same if we unthinkingly invest too much in our online persona and curated photo feeds?
Images are powerful. While many may be aware we are curating an image, that doesn’t stop it from influencing how we view reality. By the end of Envy, Kavalerov’s grasp on reality seems to slip, we encounter more dream-like sequences with the imaginary machine, his suspicion of even well-intentioned individuals grows, and his view of himself as exceptional prevents any potential connection with well-intentioned soviet citizens like Andrei. Essentially, Envy makes clear the power of the personal realities that we all curate to varying degrees; Kavalerov is an extreme case — a creative and disillusioned man that needs this reality he creates to retain any semblance of control over his life. Most people are not so bitter and controlling, but it is still worth considering: how aware are we of how the images we choose to present to the world, contribute to shaping our own perceptions?
Bibliography
Curl, Julia “Through a Glass, Enviously: Yuri Olesha’s Photographic Distortion of Reality.” The Macksey Journal, Volume 1, Article 199, 2020.
Olesha, Yuri. Envy. Translated by Marian Schwartz. New York: The New York Review of Books, 2004.
