On a particular form of perspective…

An English friend of mine tells the story of reviewing a book about the history of Russian Marxism for a major national newspaper here in the States. In the course of his review, he observed that G. V. Plekhanov was “the father of Russian Marxism.” Minutes before the issue closed, an obtuse sub-editor took it upon himself to challenge this judgment. Surely it was Lenin, not Plekhanov, who deserved that august epithet. It just wouldn’t do to call Plekhanov the father of Russian Marxism. My friend remonstrated; the sub-editor insisted; the minutes ticked by … Finally, they reached for a reference work that was handy: pachysandra, Persia, pit viper, Pleiad, … “PLEKHANOV, GEORGI VALENTINOVICH, 1857–1918. Russian revolutionary and social philosopher… . Often called the ‘Father of Russian Marxism.’” The sub-editor digested this and, bloodied but not beaten, said petulantly, “Well, all right. You can leave it. But it is a cliché.”

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