The History of the German-Russian Colony in Lincoln

Standing at the corner of Tenth and O streets in the city of Lincoln, Nebraska, any week-day morning between 7:30 and 8 o'clock, you may see pass by you from ten to twenty women with little black woolen shawls on their heads. Ask any citizen who they are, and ninety-nine times in one hundred he will tell you they are "Russians" who live down on the bottoms, that they are going out into the offices and homes to wash and scrub and clean house, and that their husbands are street laborers or work for the railroad. He may then grow confidential and tell you that he "has no use for these people", that "they are only half human", and that he "would just as soon see the Chinese come here as those people". As a matter of fact the greater part of his information is incorrect, partly through race prejudice but chiefly through ignorance of their history. These people, of whom there are about 4,000 in the city (Including "beet fielders"), are Germans, not Russians: they are Teutons, not Slavs; they are Lutheran and Reformed, not Greek Catholics. To be sure they and their ancestors lived in Russia for over one hundred years and they came here directly from the realm of the Czar whoso bona fide citizens they were—but they never spoke the Russian language, never embraced the Greek religion, never intermarried with the Russians, and many of their children never saw a Russian until they left their native village for the new home in America. They despise being called "Russians" just as an Italian resents "Dago"; a Jew, "Sheeny"; and a German, "Dutchman". Ask them where they came from and most of the children and not a few of the grown people will say, "Germany". If you pursue your questioning as to what part of Germany, they will tell you "Saratov" or "Samara" - two governments in the eastern part of Russia on the lower course of the Volga river. The misconceptions concerning the desirability of these German-Russians as citizens arise from their unprogressiveness as compared with those Germans who come to us directly from the mother country. During their century's sojourn in Russia they have been out of the main current of civilization, a mere eddy in the stream of progress. They present a concrete example of arrested development, The characteristics which differentiate them from other Germans are not due to an inherent lack of capacity but to different environment. Notwithstanding this, the German- Russians have some admirable qualities. They bring us large stores of physical energy and an almost unlimited capacity for work. The majority of them are literate although the amount of their education is limited. They are thrifty and independent, almost never applying for public aid. They are law abiding, their chief offenses being those which are traceable to their communal life in Russia. They are extremely religious, all their social as well as spiritual life being bound up in the church which they support right royally. To be sure, the saloon gets their vote (the prohibition vote among them is increasing); but "was not the first miracle that Christ performed the turning of water into wine? If they would shut up the shows (theaters), they wouldn't need to shut up the saloons". The object of this paper is to give the historical setting in which the German-Russians have lived as one means to a better understanding and appreciation of them by our own citizens.

Pissing Glass and the Body Crass: Adaptations of the Scatological in Théophile

Examination of scatological motifs in Théophile de Viau’s (1590-1626) libertine, or ‘cabaret’ poetry is important in terms of how the scatological contributes to the depiction of the Early Modern body in the French lyric.1 This essay does not examine Théophile’s portrait of the body strictly in terms of the ‘Baroque’ or the ‘neo-Classical.’ Rather, it argues that the scatological context in which he situates the body (either his, or those of others), reflects a keen sensibility of the body representative of the transition between these two eras. Théophile reinforces what Bernard Beugnot terms the body’s inherent ‘eloquence’ (17), or what Patrick Dandrey describes as an innate ‘textuality’ in what the body ‘writes’ (31), and how it discloses meaning. The poet’s scatological lyric, much of which was published in the Pamasse Satyrique of 1622, projects a different view of the body’s ‘eloquence’ by depicting a certain realism and honesty about the body as well as the pleasure and suffering it experiences. This Baroque realism, which derives from a sense of the grotesque and the salacious, finds itself in conflict with the Classical body which is frequently characterized as elegant, adorned, and ‘domesticated’ (Beugnot 25). Théophile’s private body is completely exposed, and, unlike the public body of the court, does not rely on masking and pretension to define itself. Mitchell Greenberg contends that the body in late sixteenth-century and early seventeenth-century French literature is often depicted in a chaotic manner because, ‘the French body politic was rent by tumultuous religious and social upheavals’ (62).2 While one could argue that Théophile’s portraits of a syphilis-ridden narrators are more a reflection of his personal agony rather than that of France as a whole, what emerges in Théophile is an emphasis on the movement, if not decomposition of the body.3 Given Théophile’s public persona and the satirical dimension of his work, it is difficult to imagine that the degeneration he portrays is limited only to his individual experience. On a collective level, Théophile reflects what Greenberg calls ‘a continued, if skewed apprehension of the world in both its physical and metaphysical dimensions’(62–3) typical of the era. To a large extent, the body Théophile depicts is a scatological body, one whose deterioration takes the form of waste, disease, and evacuation as represented in both the private and public domain. Of course, one could cast aside any serious reading of Théophile’s libertine verse, and virtually all of scatological literature for that matter, as an immature indulgence in the prurient. Nonetheless, it was for his dissolute behavior and his scatological poetry that Théophile was imprisoned and condemned to death. Consequently, this part of his work merits serious consideration in terms of the personal and poetic (if not occasionally political) statement it represents. With the exception of Claire Gaudiani’s outstanding critical edition of Théophile’s cabaret lyric, there exist no extensive studies of the poet’s libertine œuvre.4 Clearly however, these poems should be taken seriously with respect to their philosophical and aesthetic import. As a consequence, the objective becomes that of enhancing the reader’s understanding of the lyric contexts in which Théophile’s scatological offerings situate themselves. Structurally, the reader sees how the poet’s libertine ceuvre is just that — an integrated work in which the various components correspond to one another to set forth a number of approaches from which the texts are to be read. These points of view are not always consistent, and Théophile cannot be thought of as writing in a sequential manner along the lines of devotional Baroque poets such as Jean de La Ceppède and Jean de Sponde. However, there is a tendency not to read these poems in their vulgar totality, and to overlook the formal and substantive unity in this category of Théophile’s work. The poet’s resistance to poetic and cultural standards takes a profane, if not pornographic form because it seeks to disgust and arouse while denigrating the self, the lyric other, and the reader. Théophile’s pornography makes no distinction between the erotic and scatological. The poet conflates sex and shit because they present a double form of protest to artistic and social decency while titillating and attacking the reader’s sensibilities. Examination of the repugnant gives way to a cathartic experience which yields an understanding of, if not ironic delight in, one’s own filthy nature.