The Belletristic Catalogues


Unlike the handwritten philosophy catalogue which serves for internal record-keeping, the belletristic ones (or at least the existing copies) are of a different nature: printed and published, one in 1924 and the other in 1929, they are public-facing presentations, if not advertisements. The 1924 catalogue, for example, features on the first page the address, opening hours, a list of various types of books available, and membership rules of the library, which will be explained later. If the audience of the philosophy catalogue was current library members, the audience of the belletristic catalogues extended to include prospective members within the Russian émigré community.


The 1929 catalogue specifies on its cover page that it contains titles received during 1924-1928, which makes it similar to an inventory in terms of function (again, what a coincidence that the inventory we found covers exactly the ensuing years), yet resembles the philosophy catalogue in terms of form: the entries are ordered alphabetically by the last name of the author, and each entry follows the sequence of index number, author’s name, book title, and publication information. There are some minor differences: the belletristic catalogue is divided into clear alphabetical sections, which is not possible for the philosophy catalogue due to the continual updating process; the belletristic catalogue also bolded the titles and index numbers, and added more detailed publication information such as the source (the journal on which a book has first been published, for example) and the number of pages, which would have been inconvenient and redundant for the handwritten philosophy catalogue. Although the printed catalogues present themselves as finished products, they still provide a glimpse into the process. A noteworthy feature of both the 1924 and the 1929 catalogues is an appendix in the end called “книги поступившия во время печатания каталога,” like a mini-catalogue with entries arranged in a similar alphabetic fashion as the main text. This reveals the library’s commitment to showcasing the most up-to-date material, a prioritization of currency and completeness over formal coherence and searchability.


Cover of Turgenev Library’s 1924 Belletristic Catalogue.
Sample page from of Turgenev Library’s 1924 Belletristic Catalogue.

The relatively short time elapsed between the publication of the two catalogues highlights the same underlying principle in effect. However, while the focus on updated-ness might benefit the public, the existence of two (or more) catalogues in the institutional space of the Turgenev Library - as opposed to the broader public cultural space - would have created difficulty for readers and librarians alike. If the library uses a new catalogue every four years, it would have been extremely inconvenient to search for a particular author’s oeuvres, as the titles would have been scattered across multiple catalogues. One might therefore assume that the library keeps a master catalogue for the belletristic category, just like for philosophy – a space designed for long-term rather than time-bound accumulation of entries. Among the two known published catalogues, the first might simply have been a polished, typed and printed version of the master belletristic catalogue at the time, while the second seems more likely to have been adapted from a 1924-1928 inventory rather than from a catalogue, which would not have recorded whether a given title arrived in the library during a specific time period. In the absence of either a master catalogue nor other inventories, such hypotheses cannot be verified.


The 1924 catalogue also contains a list of Russian institutions and organizations in France with names and addresses, as well as eight pages of advertisements for Russo-French bookshops, language textbooks, typography studios, translation services, art sellers, restaurants, etc. The products in these ads typically serve to facilitate Russian émigrés’ survival and integration in France, in linguistic, cultural and practical aspects. Most surprising is the number of the Russian bookshops and libraries featured among the advertisements – some public and some private, all including their address in Paris (often with nearby metro- and bus-stops listed as well), contact information, type of books available, etc., to give the émigré readers a clear overview of the wide range of options available. Despite the hardships of exile, the Russian intelligentsia abroad has continued to write and to publish, their literary forces grouped around several reviews, the most important of which, Современная записки (Contemporary Annals), was started in Paris in 1920 and published the works of émigrés – novels, short stories, poems, criticism, as well as political, social, philosophical, and religious essays. Within this vibrant culture of literary production and consumption, the readers could choose which library or bookshop to visit depending on where they were living and what kind of books they were looking for.


Example of advertisements at the end of the belletristic catalogue published in 1924.

In presenting these options in a clear and compelling manner, the purpose of this publication is not so much for Turgenev Library’s self-promotion, but rather for building a network of support for the Russian émigré community. Through the selection of advertisements, the Turgenev Library advocates for a collaborative rather than competitive relationship with other Russian libraries and bookshops in Paris. One may even suggest that the inclusion of the appendix does not merely serve to showcase Turgenev Library’s own latest acquisitions, but also to bring the émigré community up to date on the recent Russian works being published, either in Russia or abroad – news that might have been inaccessible to an ordinary émigré, especially if one was not part of the literary circles and out of contact with the USSR. According to Ossorguine, during the interwar period the library played the role of a cultural institution, organizing conferences, concerts, and meetings, and despite modest budgets aimed to unite around it émigrés from diverse occupations (“Toutes ces entreprises rapportaient un petit pécule, mais étaient importantes surtout parce que se réunissaient autour de la Bibliothèque des personnes aux occupations les plus diverses”). Hence, with this publication, the library democratized access to information and by extension, to knowledge, culture, social networks, and practical help in daily lives; it built a bridge between the isolated émigré and the lost motherland.


This catalogue, however, does not include every Russian title published during the given timeframe, and selection of advertisements both predicts and dictates the émigré’s sphere of activity. The émigrés carried with them a particular image of Russian culture, which was then fused with their new experience in France or in the rest of Europe; émigré institutions such as the Turgenev Library thus served to curate and crystalize this culture in a physical, social and symbolic space, a space around which émigré life could and/or should be centered, by presenting an up-to-date yet filtered brand of Russianness and a Paris survival guide, merged into one. Behind this seemingly liberal informational exchange is a cultural formation process.


Letter correspondences in the GARF archive also help illuminate the Turgenev’s Library’s relationship with its readership, with the broader Russian émigré community, and with other literary or cultural organizations in Paris. These are not the focus of this project and will not be discussed in depth. Most correspondences pertain to financial matters: on the internal front, the library politely reminded its readers to return the books they borrowed or pay subscription fees; on the public front, the library solicited donations – of books and/or money - through the social networks it fostered. Sometimes individual émigrés also wrote to the library pleading for financial assistance, hoping to receive support from a cultural affinity institution away from home; whether the library, frequently undergoing financial hardship itself, responded favorably is unknown.




Works Cited:

Hélène Iswolsky, "Twenty-Five Years of Russian Emigre Literature," The Russian Review 1, no. 2 (1942): 62-3.

Tatiana Ossorguine-Bakounine, « La bibliothèque Tourguenev », Bulletin d'information de l'ABF, no 41,‎ 1963.