Captured Glory

-Dimitry Urushev

In rare books on 18th-century Russian literature, one seldom encounters the name of Simeon Denisov. Among the “enlightened men” like the poets Kantemir, Sumarokov, or Kheraskov, who sang in a European style of “the heart’s bitter sorrows,” there is little room for a northern hermit who, in an ancient style, recounted not “the wrath of Achilles or the siege of Troy,” but the sufferings and feats of martyrs. Alas, today Denisov’s name is little known not only to most literary scholars but also to many Old Believers. Thus, it is a good and noble deed to remind Christians of this celebrated ecclesiastical writer…

Simeon Denisov was born in 1682 in Povenets, on the shores of Lake Onega. He descended from the princely Myshetsky family, which had fallen into obscurity by the late 17th century. His father, Dionysius the Second, raised his son in strict piety and devotion to the sacred traditions of old. Simeon was greatly influenced by his elder brother Andrei (1674–1730), who at seventeen left home to live as a hermit. In 1694, Andrei, together with Daniil Vikulin, founded a communal monastery on the Vyg River, where the entire Dionysius family relocated in 1697.

After Andrei Denisov became the abbot of the Vygoretsk community in 1702, Simeon became his “right hand,” accompanying him on travels across Russia. In December 1713, during one such trip for the monastery’s needs, Simeon was arrested as a “schismatic teacher” by Novgorod’s Metropolitan Job. Despite his brother’s efforts to secure his release, Simeon spent over four years imprisoned in the bishop’s residence, resisting the metropolitan’s attempts to turn him away from Old Belief. Job even took Simeon to St. Petersburg for admonition by the Synod, but to no avail. In the capital, Simeon was presented to Tsar Peter I himself, who, “taking Simeon before him and gently testing him with words, neither ordered his release nor subjected him to harsh interrogation—leaving him as he was.”

In prison, Simeon wrote three epistles defending the old faith to the Novgorod metropolitan and over ten letters to Vyg. Responding to the epistles addressed to Job was entrusted to the most learned man of the time, the Greek Ioannikios Likhud, then residing in Veliky Novgorod. The polemic with Likhud spurred Simeon to intensify his literary efforts.

On the night of September 7–8, 1717, Simeon, having converted his guard, the soldier Tukachev, to Old Belief, escaped from prison. Fearing pursuit, he did not immediately return to the monastery but lived in Moscow for about six months. He returned to Pomorye only in February–March 1718. Back at the monastery, Simeon sought solitude to devote himself to literary pursuits: “He spent six years in his cell, reading books and receiving rhetorical texts from Moscow, teaching himself and spending his time with zeal and love for books” (I. Filippov). His first literary mentor was his elder brother, who had studied grammar and rhetoric in Kyiv. Soon, Simeon gained fame among Old Believers as a “sweet-voiced swallow and tireless voice of theology.”

Together with his brother, he laid the foundations of what is known as the “Pomorian” or “Vygovian” literary school. The works of this school were distinguished not only by their vivid language and style but also by a unique historical approach: “In contrast to the opinion of high society that ‘Russians have always been ignorant in all things,’ Pomorian writers of that time, directly or indirectly, sought to remind people that the Russian nation has a glorious historical past” (B. V. Shergin).

In 1730, after Andrei Denisov’s death, the brethren wished to see Simeon as their abbot. Though he “refused,” they “compelled him and elected him.” The new abbot proved himself not only a wise spiritual leader but also a diligent administrator. For instance, in the famine-stricken year of 1731, Denisov skillfully organized the monastery’s resources, saving the community from starvation…

During Simeon’s leadership, the “cultural construction” begun under Andrei continued at Vyg: handwritten and printed books, icons, and ecclesiastical artifacts were collected. In the monastery’s workshops, books were copied and adorned with ornate “Pomorian” designs, icons were painted and cast in copper, and nautical charts and pilot books were compiled. Vygovians could be found throughout Russia: they traveled the country buying grain, undertaking missionary journeys, and fishing in the cold northern seas.

The relatively prosperous existence of the monastery was marred by frequent conflicts with ecclesiastical and secular authorities. The Synodal clergy accused Vyg of “leading the local population into schism,” while officials charged them with harboring fugitive serfs. In 1738–44, the community faced another investigation following a denunciation by Ivan Krugly. In March 1739, an investigative commission led by Assessor O. T. Kvashnin-Samarin arrived at the monastery. On the brethren’s advice, Simeon hid in one of the cells, but he was found, shackled, and taken into custody. He was released in September 1739. The ordeal and harsh imprisonment undermined his health: “Worn out by confinement, great fasting, all-night vigils, and deep sorrow… in such distress, his insides were damaged, and he could barely walk.” Simeon emerged from custody half-ill, soon fell bedridden, and died shortly thereafter (September 25, 1740).

After Simeon Denisov, Old Belief saw many distinguished writers and learned men, but none matched his eloquence as a “teller of books and scribe of letters.” His golden-tongued glory, preserved in books, remains undisputed to this day…

Simeon Denisov authored over a hundred works, remarkable for their variety. These include statutory writings, numerous sermons, congratulations, eulogies, and epistles. Together with his brother, Simeon contributed to the renowned “Pomorian Answers,” a kind of Old Believer catechism (1722–23).

Simeon’s major independent work is the famous Russian Vineyard, a collection of the lives of martyrs for ancestral Orthodoxy (1730–33). In gathering material for these lives, Denisov and subsequent Old Believer writers relied on both documents and folk memory. “The deep historical memory characteristic of Old Believers found practical expression at Vyg. It was here that a cycle of works dedicated to the Old Believer movement of the second half of the 17th to the first half of the 18th centuries was written. For this work, the Vygovians undertook not only the identification of written sources created by defenders of ancient piety but also a broad collection of oral testimonies about the champions of the old faith. Newly discovered documentary materials confirm the high degree of reliability of the historical traditions that Vygovian authors used as the basis for their works” (E. M. Yukhimenko). When information was lacking, the author filled the gaps with ornate rhetorical flourishes.

The pinnacle of Simeon Denisov’s work is undoubtedly The History of the Solovetsky Fathers and Martyrs, written “at the entreaty of the fathers, and even more at the insistence of his brother Andrei.” This epic work has remained one of the most beloved books of Old Believers for nearly three hundred years, as evidenced by its numerous editions and manuscripts that have survived to our day. Reading Denisov’s work, generations of Russians drew great benefit and true guidance in Christian life. With the example of the Solovetsky martyrs’ feats before them, they were always ready to stand courageously for ancient Orthodoxy and ancestral piety, fearlessly confessing their faith and hope before the enemies of the Church, unafraid of any punishment or torment.

It can be confidently stated that Old Believer literature has not produced a work finer than The History of the Solovetsky Fathers and Martyrs. This book combines two ancient literary traditions: Orthodox ecclesiastical hagiography and northern folk storytelling. The work is akin not only to the lives of saints but also to Pomorian epics and tales. Denisov’s solemn style is born not only of rhetorical artistry but also of the natural eloquence of the north, for, as B. V. Shergin notes, “among our Pomorians, one word begets another, and a third runs on its own.” Denisov writes not merely in a conventional literary language. His language is a phenomenon of primal power. It is close not only to the “weaving of words” of Epiphanius the Wise but also to the speech of the Pomorians, descendants of the free Novgorodians who settled the White Sea coast five hundred years ago. Denisov’s language is ancient and pure in its structure, rhythm, and expressiveness. One can only regret that such a language remains incomprehensible and inaccessible to most of our contemporaries!

Alas, during the years of godless Soviet rule, knowledge of Church Slavonic among Old Believers significantly declined, and the range of Slavic books read narrowed to include only liturgical texts. It has become evident to us today that “Slavic and ancient books in general may be objects of study but not of enjoyment, and only scholars, not society, can engage with them” (V. G. Belinsky).

But we, Old Believers, must never forget that Orthodox culture has always been rooted in books, that literacy, bookishness, and erudition have always distinguished us from members of the “dominant church.” Without books, there can be no Old Believer tradition, for one who does not read books becomes an “Ivan who forgets his kin.” Our faith and history seem inexplicable without the intellectual culture preserved solely by our books.

Thus, the writings of Simeon Denisov remain with us, patiently awaiting the modern reader…

D. Urushev (Moscow) Island of Faith, 2003, No. 1