48 pages • 1 hour read
Lydia ChukovskayaA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Felt boots are associated with the women waiting overnight in the various lines for information of their “purged” relatives—those imprisoned or murdered in the course of Stalin’s Great Terror. The unstylish boots symbolize the ostracism these women suffer as the relatives of supposed saboteurs.
When she first visits the prison, Sofia is surprised to see that many of the woman waiting outside are wearing felt boots—she reasons they must’ve worn the warm boots to wait overnight. After weeks of waiting overnight in these lines, Sofia adopts the boots she once disparaged: “It was essential to take a warm scarf and put on felt boots, because even though it was thawing, one’s feet would freeze between three and six in the morning” (56). Felt boots are the sign of someone suffering the anguish of not knowing where their loved ones are.
The symbolism of felt boots is highlighted in one of Sofia’s encounters with Mrs. Kiparisova, the wife of Kolya’s godfather. Sofia is astonished at the decline in Mrs. Kiparisova’s appearance in the weeks since her husband’s arrest: “Her face is so dark and wrinkled […] the felt boots, the cane, the scarf…It’s very important for a woman not to let herself go, to take care of herself. Who on earth wears felt boots these days? It’s not 1918” (37). The answer to Sofia’s rhetorical question is the countless women across the country waiting overnight in the hope of learning anything about their imprisoned relatives. The ordeal transforms Mrs. Kiparisova from a 50-year-old woman to a babushka. The outdated boots symbolize that with her husband imprisoned, Mrs. Kiparisova has fallen out of society; no longer concerned with being current, Mrs. Kiparisova wears the unstylish, practical boots because her existence has been reduced to waiting in lines.
Petty, vindictive motives underlie many of the arrests in Sofia Petrovna. With an unsubstantiated allegation of “sabotage” or negligence enough to warrant arrest— and a system of functionaries unaccountable to the public—some exploit this environment to attack people they don’t like. A glaring example of this is the case of Marya, the elevator operator at the publishing house, against Zakharov’s former secretary, E. Grigorieva. With Grigorieva already fired for her association with Zakharov (proximity to a “saboteur” is sufficient to warrant punishment), Marya denounces Timofeyev for not firing Grigorieva sooner: “You think the elevator woman’s just a little person, Comrade Timofeyev, that [Grigorieva] don’t understand? Well, you’re wrong! It’s not the old days now! Under Soviet rule there aren’t no little people, everyone’s big” (66). The source of Marya’s complaint is that Grigorieva rode the elevator too much. Timofeyev is later arrested for lack of vigilance—for not unmasking Zakharov and Grigorieva sooner.
There are many other examples of accusations driven either by revenge or selfishness. It’s implied that Erna is the author of the anonymous article censuring Sofia for defending Natasha. Knowing that Sofia disliked her, and maybe even tipped off to Sofia’s plan to fire her, Erna capitalizes on Sofia’s “mistake” of defending her friend. Kolya in his letter names Sashka—the former classmate Kolya put on mock trial for calling Alik an antisemitic slur—as the person who accused him of sabotage. Arrested by the NKVD and seeing that he was doomed, Sashka decided to take Kolya down with him. Envious of Zakharov’s position, Timofeyev orchestrates his arrest by blaming him for not unmasking Gerasimov—the arrested head of the print shop—earlier.
Chukovskaya makes few of these explanations explicit, trusting the reader to connect the dots. The uncertainty in the text surrounding the motives for these arrests reflects the furtive nature of such petty schemes: The terror of the little—i.e., aggrieved and tyrannical—person is that they conceal their true intentions. After Sofia resigns following the censorious article about her, Erna is uncharacteristically friendly: “‘Good luck!’ cried Erna Semyonovna gaily, and Sofia Petrovna no longer had the least doubt that Erna Semyonovna and no one else had written the article” (88). In a country run by a tyrant, many individuals exploit what little power they have over others.
Following Kolya’s arrest, Sofia feels thrust into an unreal, nightmarish world. She suddenly finds herself in an alternate reality where things aren’t as they’re supposed to be. Kolya’s arrest feels unreal to Sofia because, even when talking to other relatives of prisoners, she thinks her predicament is fundamentally different from theirs: Kolya is innocent, the others are not.
Sofia first experiences this sense of nightmarish unreality the night she learns Kolya has been arrested. Alone in her bedroom, she feels as if she’s slipped into a bubble where her former life used to be: “In the darkness flashes from the streetcar wires, lightning-like, lit up the room. A square white patch of light folded like a sheet of paper lay across the wall and ceiling. In the nurse’s room Valya [the nurse’s daughter] was still squealing and laughing” (46). The quiet beauty of this play of light belies Sofia’s inner turmoil; this juxtaposition describes the feeling of being in crisis in a world that doesn’t notice. In this passage, the metaphorical “wall of terror” Chukovskaya mentions in the afterword becomes literal, isolating Sofia and making her feel her world is unreal.
As the story progresses, Sofia is periodically gripped by the feeling that any second things will return to normal, as if awakening from a nightmare. Instead, Sofia finds herself waking day after day into a nightmare:
If she did manage to sleep at night, the worst moment, without a doubt, was the moment just after she woke up. When she opened her eyes and caught sight of the window, the bottom of the bed, her dress hanging over the chair—for a second she thought of nothing but these objects […] But in the next second somewhere in the neighborhood of her heart arose a feeling of dread, like a pain, and through the haze of that pain she would suddenly remember everything (85).
This unending nightmare eventually becomes unbearable: With no prospect of Kolya’s return, Sofia escapes to a fantasy world in which Kolya is free, engaged to be married, and on vacation.