Introduction: Recurrence, Transference, and Dmitry

Abstract

I n the spring of 1605, a young man purporting to be Dmitry, Ivan IV’s sole surviving son, ascended Moscow’s throne. Eleven months later, he was dead—the victim of a murderous conspiracy. A brutal, eight-year struggle for sovereignty erupted. News of Dmitry’s precipitous rise and fall spread rapidly across Russia and into western Europe,1 but his true identity and aspirations are disputed to this day. Was he indeed the last son of Russia’s “Terrible” tsar, miraculously rescued from an assassination attempt in 1591? Or was he a pretender, as his detractors alleged? Did he rule the Russian lands wisely, or was he little more than an adventurer? Unfortunately, history offers few definitive answers: the evidence is limited and flawed. Yet the man who would be tsar has provided a perennial source of fascination—precisely because of the mystery that surrounds him. Dozens of dramas, novels, and monographs—written across centuries as well as national borders—have offered riveting accounts of Dmitry and his deeds, sparking as much as slaking the curiosity of successive generations of readers. We might easily imagine that the enigma of Dmitry—his debatable origins, his uncertain allegiances, the conflicting passions he inspired among supporters and disparagers—would titillate sensation seekers. What is somewhat less expected, however, is the abiding attraction he has exercised over successive generations of Russian novelists and dramatists. Writer after writer adapted selected aspects of his story as narrative scaffoldings for their own fictional works, often drawing explicit attention to their acts of appropriation