"Bourgeois Muddle": Why Soviet Censorship Banned Korney Chukovsky's "The Mуха-Цокотуха"

One of the most popular children's poems, which every child today knows by heart, was under suspicion from Soviet officials and educators at the moment of its birth. Korney Chukovsky's "The Mуха-Цокотуха," written in 1923, did not just fail to reach readers immediately—it was officially banned by censorship and subjected to destructive criticism from the highest authorities. Why did such an innocent story about a fly finding a coin and throwing a party provoke such anger in the party circles? And how did this small masterpiece survive in the face of ideological pressure?

The First Publication and Immediate Scandal

In 1923, Korney Chukovsky first read his new tale to friends and acquaintances. The audience was delighted: rhythmic lines, vivid images, catchy rhymes—it seemed that this was the perfect reading for babies. However, the first attempt to publish "The Mуха-Цокотуха" encountered an insurmountable obstacle. The Provincial Department of Literature and Publishing (Gublit), which performed the functions of censorship, categorically refused to grant permission for publication. A record of Chukovsky's conversation with a Gublit employee, Lyudmila Bystrova, who explained to the writer that the illustrations to the tale were "improper": the mosquito is too close to the fly, they "flirt." "As if there is a child so corrupt that the proximity of the mosquito to the mosquito would provoke licentious thoughts," Chukovsky wrote with bitterness. But this was just the beginning.

In 1924, the tale was finally published—under the altered title "Mukhin's Wedding" and with cuts. However, this version did not give peace to the ideological guardians. The real campaign against "The Mуха-Цокотуха" began later, and it involved not only ordinary censors but also the most influential figures in Soviet pedagogy and politics.

The Attack of Kryukovskaya: "Chukovskism" as an Ideological Enemy

The main accuser of Korney Chukovsky was Nadezhda Konstantinovna Kryukovskaya, the widow of Lenin. She was not just the wife of the leader but also stood at the origins of the Soviet system of popular education and upbringing. Her opinion on children's books had enormous weight. Kryukovskaya descended on Chukovsky with sharp criticism, calling his tales "nonsense" and "disrespect to the child." She claimed that Chukovsky's works were not only useless but also harmful because they "do not reflect Soviet life."

Even in the ranks of party critics and editors, a special term emerged— "chukovskism." This word denoted all the writer's creativity that was considered alien to the proletarian ideology. Kryukovskaya and her allies blamed Chukovsky for the fact that "The Mуха-Цокотуха" "undermines children's faith in the triumph of the collective," expresses "sympathy for kulak ideology," and praises "petty bourgeois-ness and kulak accumulation." It seems that where can one find kulaks in a children's tale about a fly and a mosquito? However, Soviet educators were able to read between the lines even of what was never there.

"Bourgeois" Birthday and Suspicious Wedding

One of the most absurd points of the accusation was the word "birthday." The deputy head of Gublit, Lyudmila Bystrova, explained to Chukovsky that birthdays were "bourgeois celebrations." In the new Soviet society, where the church was separated from the state, and old traditions were declared relics of the past, any mention of birthdays was perceived as an attempt "to keep the dying and outdated forms of life on the surface." Birthdays are not just a day of birth but a festival associated with the Orthodox calendar, with the name of a saint. Therefore, everything related to them automatically fell under suspicion.

But the critics went further. The birthdays in "The Mуха-Цокотуха" end with a wedding—and this also caused a heated reaction. "Literary Gazette" saw in the happy wedding of the mosquito and the mosquito "idealization of petty bourgeois-ness." One critic wrote: "What do these verses say? About the power of money." Indeed, the tale begins with the mosquito finding a coin and going to the market—so, according to the ideologues, the tale teaches children "kulak accumulation" and glorifies private property. In a country where communism was being built, this was unpardonable.

A Collective Letter from the Kremlin Kindergarten

The climax of the persecution was a collective letter published in 1929 in the journal "Preschool Education." It was signed by "parents of children in the Kremlin kindergarten." These were not ordinary people—they represented the elite of Soviet society, and their voice was extremely significant. In the letter, they called for "combating chukovskism" and declared that all of Chukovsky's tales were not only bad but also harmful to children. They accused the author of developing "superstition and fears," praising "petty bourgeois-ness and kulak accumulation," and giving "incorrect ideas about the world of animals and insects."

For Chukovsky, this was a terrible blow. In his diary, he wrote: "So, my 'Crocodile' is banned, 'The Mуха-Цокотуха' is banned, 'The Ants' will be banned tomorrow." One after another, his works fell under the censorship press, even "Barmaley" and "Aibolit."

Political Subtext: The Mosquito, the Fly, and Suspicious Allusions

The peculiar aspect of the situation was that the censors saw a political subtext in the characters of the tale. According to Bystrova, Komarik was a "disguised prince," and Mуха was a "princess." This already sounded like anti-Soviet propaganda: princes and princesses are symbols of monarchy, the old world that was destroyed by the revolution. It turned out that Chukovsky, without wanting to, was propagating "bourgeois" values and idealizing the old order.

An anecdote was circulating among the people about how Chukovsky tried to publish "The Mуха-Цокотуха," coming for approval to each of the leaders. Lenin stopped him: "In the Soviet Union, a mosquito cannot go to the market!"; Stalin was upset that money was lying around on the collective farm field; and Andropov interrupted before he could even read the first line: "What about the Central Committee?!" This anecdote, like any sharp folk creation, accurately reflected the absurdity of Soviet censorship, capable of seeing counter-revolution even in an innocent children's tale.

"The Mуха-Цокотуха" Survives and Becomes a Classic

Despite all the bans and persecution, "The Mуха-Цокотуха" survived. In 1927, the tale was published under its current name. Later, with the easing of censorship pressure in the 1960s, it was printed in mass editions and entered the golden fund of children's literature. Today it is hard to imagine that once this cheerful, mischievous, musical tale was considered "bourgeois muddle" and an instrument of the ideological enemy.

The history of "The Mуха-Цокотуха" is the story of how literature can resist the pressure of the system, even when it seems that all doors are closed. Chukovsky did not rewrite his tales to please the censorship, did not cross out "suspicious" beetles, and did not replace "birthdays" with "birthdays." He simply continued to write—for children, for eternity, for those who can hear joy, fantasy, and kindness in poetry. And today, when we read to children about the Mуха-Цокотуха and her brave savior-combatant, we even do not suspect that this little book has gone through hell to get into our hands.

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