Diaries penned by teenage boys during Stalin’s regime unveil a profound exploration of their struggles with love, aspirations, and the pressures exerted by Soviet society from the 1930s to early 1940s. From this collection of diaries, two books are worth highlighting—those of Vasilii Trushkin and Ivan Khripunov. Their firsthand accounts vividly illustrate the grim realities of existence in this disorienting and dangerous time in Soviet history. Human behavior, rules and regulations Researchers like Ekaterina Zadirko have explored these diaries. Through their art, they illuminate the inner, private worlds of teens emerging from hunger, political repression, and rigid customs.
Vasilii Trushkin began his diary in November 1939 at the age of 18, sharing his dreams of becoming a writer alongside poignant accounts of his personal life. His journalistic entries reflect a sparkling youthful romance, including an early, tender meeting with a girl named Natasha. From 1937 until his untimely death in 1942, Ivan Khripunov maintained a diary. In it, he graphically documented the deep suffering experienced by his family, who were declared kulaks and deported as a result of their alleged class origin. Their contrasting experiences offer a window into the diverse challenges confronted by Soviet youths in this period.
The diaries serve to illuminate the details of daily life, such as the changes at school and homework, but look further into societal issues. Over and over, we hear through these young diarists’ voices the same exasperation with their Soviet schooling. Equally important is showcasing the punishing cultural atmosphere that brutalizes individual expression. The writings serve to evoke and preserve that resilience of youth. At last, most importantly, their music serves to underscore their search for identity amid insurmountable odds.
The Impact of Famine
Ivan Khripunov’s diary is exceptional both for the foresight with which he describes the famine that would decimate his family and community. Born in 1923, he experienced the horrors that could be inflicted by a state’s obsession with collectivization that put the group ahead of the individual. When he was 12 years old, his family escaped hunger in the region of Saratov. They completed an awe inspiring expedition over 4,800 kilometers to successfully end in Irkutsk, Siberia.
Khripunov’s reflections reveal a heartbreaking reality: “The famine broke out not because of a bad harvest but because all crops were taken away. Kulaks were exiled to Solovki. Many innocent people suffered.” Things only got worse for his family, as they began to starve to death. He recounts how they resorted to desperate measures to survive: “We started going out to the field and luring out gophers to eat them.”
These grim diary entries from young people in Sudan only begin to convey the psychological impact of famine. In the process, they fought to stay alive, pushed against structures of patriarchy and colonialism. Simultaneously, they aimed to grapple with their role in an increasingly unfriendly world.
Navigating Love and Aspirations
Vasilii Trushkin’s diary beautifully reflects that quality of youth, where dreams of hope and fortune and glory coexist with the heartaches of courtship. At barely 18, he was starved for intimacy. He explored societal constructs that had influenced his definition of love. In one entry, he wrote about a moment with Natasha: “I drew her near and smooched her on the cheek. Having recovered from the initial embarrassment, I greedily bit into her lips.”
Trushkin’s writings reveal an internal conflict between personal desires and Soviet doctrines that viewed love as secondary to communal work. He articulates this struggle when he notes, “Abroad, love is the main goal of life … For us, love is a secondary concern.” This sentiment speaks to all the teenage boys who find themselves emotional and yet are expected to suppress their emotions in order to fit into society’s box.
Fellow diarist David Samoilov expressed profound self-doubt about his writing abilities: “I am completely untalented, and writing will always be a torment for me.” He stresses the extreme pressure young men were under to succeed aesthetically and academically. Yet in this difficult environment, the fear of failure loomed larger than ever.
Despite these pressures, Trushkin remained hopeful about his future literary endeavors: “I think about my future big literary work in which I will show my life and give a full description of contemporary society.” He wants to escape the hold of the social order set by the regime. He feels he deserves the chance to tell his own personal story.
The Influence of Soviet Ideology
The unofficial yet all-encompassing grip of Soviet orthodoxy extended beyond the field, dominating every area of life for these young lads. Soviet stereotypes and guidelines ruled not only these women’s academic pursuits but their romantic interactions. Yet by the 1930s, these rules had calcified into a strict and puritanical establishment. The pressure to fit in with societal expectations was so powerful that there was no space for individuality, let alone self-expression.
Ekaterina Zadirko, a Slavonic Studies researcher who examined 25 diaries written by teenage boys, noted: “These boys bent and circumvented Soviet doctrine, so they retained their teenage sense of self while still trying to fit the Soviet mold.” Their writing gave irrepressible life to strange forms of perseverance. They therapeutically inherited our world, successfully traversing the neurological tempest of adolescence, and the somber effects of retaliatory political repression.
One diarist, Sergei Argirovskii, posed existential questions about the meaning of life within this rigid framework: “Tests and exams should not define life, right?! … Maybe ‘true’ life is in the army, at war, at the front?” These internal updates underscore their struggle with the process of identity development under the weight of institutional pushback.
Most of these diaries stop suddenly, as the authors were drafted into the Red Army at the outbreak of the Great Patriotic War. These incomplete stories create an abiding sense of negation for lives lost in war that haunts the reader.