Dystopian elements in Yevgeny Zamyatin’s "We" and their influence on Russian literature Automatic translate

In 20th-century Russian literature, Yevgeny Zamyatin’s novel "We" occupies a special place as an architectural blueprint for a totalitarian model of the future. Created in 1920, the work not only reflected the realities of War Communism but also articulated key elements of the dystopian genre, which subsequently became canonical in world literature. The novel’s text serves as a starting point for understanding how mechanisms of individual repression have transformed in artistic consciousness over the course of a century.

Genesis of the text and historical context

Yevgeny Zamyatin wrote We in Petrograd, at the epicenter of revolutionary transformations. A naval engineer by training, he applied the principles of mathematical logic and mechanics to social structure, creating a grotesque yet compelling model of society. The manuscript was completed in 1920, but Soviet censors banned its publication, viewing the text as a vicious caricature of a socialist future. The novel was first published in English in 1924, and was not published in the author’s home country until 1988, during perestroika.

The historical moment of the book’s creation determined its harsh style. The era of War Communism, with its rations, labor armies, and attempts to regulate everyday life, overlapped with Zamyatin’s impressions of working in English shipyards, where he observed mechanized labor. From this synthesis emerged the image of the One State — a system in which man is reduced to a function, to a "number." Zamyatin polemicized against the ideas of proletarian poets who extolled collectivism and the fusion of the self with the masses, revealing the terrifying underbelly of this fusion.

Architecture of the Unified State

The novel’s space is organized geometrically and flawlessly. The inhabitants of the One State live behind the Green Wall, separating the orderly human world from the wild, irrational world of nature. The city is constructed of glass: transparent apartment walls, glass pavements, and transparent hives of dwellings. This transparency serves a dual function: it symbolizes the purity of logic, devoid of hidden intentions, and simultaneously ensures total surveillance. The Bureau of Guardians (the secret police) has the ability to freely observe the lives of every Number at any time of day or night.

Zamyatin’s glass world eliminates the concept of privacy. Curtains in apartments are allowed to be drawn only for short periods of time, reserved for sexual encounters strictly regulated by the state. The architecture itself dictates a way of life: linear, transparent, devoid of corners and shadows. The city functions as a single mechanism, where streets are conveyor belts and people are components moving in unison.

The Mathematics of Unfreedom

The One State’s ideology is based on the cult of rationality. Residents worship not gods, but logic and the multiplication table. Happiness is understood as the absence of freedom of choice, since it is choice that gives rise to painful doubts and mistakes. The state has freed people from the burden of freedom, replacing it with mathematically calibrated happiness.

The lives of Numbers are governed by the Tablet of Hours — a schedule that synchronizes the actions of millions of people. They wake up, begin work, and lift spoons to their mouths at the same hour. Personal time is kept to a minimum (the so-called Personal Hours), but even this is perceived by Orthodox citizens as a flaw in the system that will be corrected in the future.

The protagonist, D-503, a mathematician and builder of the Integral spacecraft, sincerely believes in the beauty of this unfreedom. For him, a curved line is ugly, and a straight line is ideal. Irrational numbers (such as the square root of minus one) evoke a panicky fear in him, as they defy conventional logic and hint at the existence of an unknowable world beyond reason.

Physiological and psychological control

The system of control in the novel permeates human biology. Love as a spontaneous emotion is declared a relic of antiquity. In its place, there exists a "Lex sexualis" (sexual law): "Every number has the right to every other number as a sexual product." Pink coupons are issued to exercise this right. Humans are transformed into consumable objects, and intimacy into a sanitary and hygienic procedure devoid of emotional attachment.

Childbearing is also removed from the personal sphere and transferred to the state. Maternal and paternal norms determine who has the right to reproduce, based on eugenic principles. Children do not belong to their parents, but are raised in state-run factories, which sever traditional family ties and foster loyalty exclusively to the Benefactor and the State.

The culmination of psychological violence is the Great Operation — the surgical removal of fantasy. The state recognizes that the last bastion of individuality is imagination, the ability to dream and create other worlds in one’s mind. This forced operation transforms people into biorobots, forever depriving them of the ability to rebel or express dissent. This is the final solution to the "human problem" — turning people into reliable tractors with a human face.

Figure of the Benefactor

At the head of the pyramid stands the Benefactor — a figure combining the traits of high priest, executioner, and father of the nation. He is re-elected annually on the Day of Unanimity, but this procedure is a ritual, not an election. Unanimity is a prerequisite for the system’s existence; any dissenting vote is viewed as a malfunction in the machine. The Benefactor makes no secret of his rule through cruelty, justifying it with the "higher purpose" of the common good. His power is sacred: the execution of a criminal becomes a solemn liturgy, where the Benefactor acts as the punishing hand of reason itself.

Language and style as a means of characterization

Zamyatin uses a unique language to describe the mindset of a man of the future. D-503’s speech is saturated with technical metaphors: he "feels like a well-oiled machine," thinks in formulas, and compares people to cogs and chronometers. The author employs a neorealist style, where everyday details acquire symbolic, often frightening, significance. The jagged syntax of the protagonist’s diary entries reflects the disintegration of his "mathematical" consciousness under the influence of awakening feelings.

Color symbolism also plays into the idea. The predominant colors are gray (uniforms) and bluish blue (glass, ice). Gold is associated with the sun and the chaos of ancient life, while green symbolizes the uncontrolled life beyond the Wall. Yellow and black often mark the arrival of I-330 and the destruction of the established order.

Conflict between entropy and energy

The novel’s philosophical core is the opposition between entropy (rest, equilibrium, death) and energy (movement, revolution, life). The United State strives for entropy — a state of perfect rest, where all change has ceased. The revolutionaries of "Mephi," by contrast, embody the energy that destroys frozen forms. Zamyatin, through I-330, articulates the idea of the infinity of revolutions: "There is no last revolution; revolutions are endless." This thesis was a direct challenge to Bolshevik doctrine, which asserted that the October Revolution was final and would lead to the construction of an eternal paradise on earth.

The Shadow of the Integral: Reflections in Literature of the 1920s and 1930s

The influence of "We" on the literary process of the first half of the 20th century proved paradoxical. The novel, officially nonexistent in Soviet cultural circles, was invisibly present in intellectual discourse, shaping a hidden debate. Authors, feeling the growing pressure of the state machine, inevitably turned to the same themes as Zamyatin, creating a unique dialogue with the "nonexistent" book.

Vladimir Nabokov and the Epistemological Prison

The most obvious heir to the Zamyatin tradition in émigré literature was Vladimir Nabokov with his novel Invitation to a Beheading (1935–1936). Although Nabokov was skeptical of the idea of direct influence, the parallels between the texts are obvious at the level of world architecture. Cincinnatus C. is as opaque to his surroundings as D-503 is in moments of doubt. Nabokov’s fortress, where everyone knows the day of the execution except the prisoner himself, is Zamyatin’s idea of transparency taken to the extreme, where privacy is equated with crime. However, while Zamyatin’s conflict is social (the individual versus the state), Nabokov’s is metaphysical: spirit versus vulgar matter, the creator versus the scenery.

Yuri Olesha and the Revolt of Emotions

In Soviet Russia, Yuri Olesha’s novel "Envy" (1927) explored the conflict between the "old" and "new" man, which Zamyatin resolved surgically in favor of the "new." Nikolai Kavalerov, a bearer of "old" feelings, envies Andrei Babichev’s new world — a world of sausages, rationality, and health. Babichev is, essentially, the realized ideal of a number, devoid of self-reflection and completely integrated into the system. Olesha demonstrated that Zamyatin’s dilemma doesn’t require a fantastical setting — it had already played out in the everyday life of NEP-era Moscow.

Andrei Platonov: The language of utopia as a death sentence

The most profound, albeit stylistically different, interpretation of this theme can be found in Andrei Platonin. In "The Foundation Pit" and "Chevengur," the construction of happiness is transformed into the digging of a grave. While Zamyatin used the language of mathematics to describe the future, Platonov created a language of bureaucratic red tape that "devoured" human meaning. The inhabitants of "The Foundation Pit," like the Numbers, are deprived of personal belonging: they live for the sake of a "common proletarian home" that will never be built. In Platonov, the rationalization of life leads not to sterile order, but to entropy and death, confirming Zamyatin’s thesis about the destructiveness of the ultimate goal.

Transformation of the genre: from the Thaw to the Stagnation

During the Thaw and subsequent Stagnation, Soviet science fiction began to cautiously rethink the communist utopia, drifting toward a warning.

The Strugatsky Brothers: An Experiment on Reality

Arkady and Boris Strugatsky, who began as eulogists of the bright communist noon, in their later works arrived at dark social models similar to Zamyatin’s. In the novel "The Doomed City," the Mentors’ experiment on city residents transported from different eras echoes the role of the Benefactor. The city, living in a confined space under an artificial sun (which turns on and off according to a schedule), resembles the isolated world of the One State. But the Strugatskys went further: their system is not static; it shifts ideological regimes, testing human resilience under various conditions — from a distribution economy to fascist dictatorship.

Postmodern Deconstruction: Modern Times

With the collapse of the Soviet system, the relevance of "We" didn’t disappear, but rather took on new forms. Contemporary Russian authors have combined Zamyatin’s structure with elements of cyberpunk, Sorokin’s grotesquery, and Pelevin’s solipsism.

Vladimir Sorokin: archaic and technology

In his novella "Day of the Oprichnik" (2006), Vladimir Sorokin inverts Zamyatin’s model. Instead of a cult of the future and science, he gives way to a cult of the past and Ivan the Terrible. However, the structure of society remains totalitarian: a wall separating Russia from the world, life transparent to the sovereign’s eye (through "smart" technologies), and a complete lack of individual freedom. In Zamyatin, violence is justified by logic; in Sorokin, by sacred tradition. Sorokin demonstrates that a "One State" can be built not only on the basis of mathematics but also on the basis of popular patriotism, while maintaining the same degree of suppression of the self.

Victor Pelevin: Digital Panopticon

Viktor Pelevin develops the theme of technological control in his novels "SNUFF" and "iPhuck 10." In "SNUFF," society is divided between the elite (living offshore) and the orcs at the bottom, a postmodern variation on the division between the City and the wild world beyond the Wall. Pelevin’s dystopia focuses on the manipulation of consciousness through media and artificial intelligence. While in Zamyatin, love was controlled by coupons, in Pelevin’s "iPhuck 10," sexuality has shifted entirely to the virtual realm, and the state machine (algorithms) regulates desires at the neurochemical level, making physical contact archaic. This is a direct evolution of "Lex sexualis" in the age of digital capitalism.

Tatyana Tolstaya: Mutation of Culture

Tatyana Tolstaya’s novel "Kys" offers a glimpse into a post-apocalyptic world where mutation reigns instead of sterility. The aftermath of the Explosion has thrown society into a new Middle Ages, but the power structure, based on fear and the banning of books, harks back to totalitarian practices. The protagonist, Benedict, who rewrites books, is a distorted copy of D-503, who writes his notes. Only instead of mathematical precision, there is the chaos of ignorance, and instead of the Benefactor, there is the Great Murza. Tolstaya demonstrates that even after the destruction of civilization, the matrix of unfreedom reproduces itself.

The novel "We" has ceased to be simply a literary monument and has become a universal template for describing Russian reality. Zamyatin’s code — transparency to power, isolation from the world, the substitution of surrogates for love, and the sacralization of the state — can be traced across the century. From Plato’s pits to Sorokin’s oprichniks, Russian literature continues to grapple with the equation posed by Yevgeny Zamyatin: is happiness possible without freedom, and does the "I" exist outside the "we?" Each new generation of writers finds its own variables for this formula, but the answer remains invariably tragic.