No region in Eurasia would seem more inhospitable to artistic creation than the sixth of the world's landed surface covered by the U.S.S.R. The southern steppe offers no natural obstacles to invaders. The northern forest is perennially inflammable and unutterably cold. Both regions stretch on with an unrelieved monotony that makes the individual and his creative efforts seem insignificant, if not foredoomed to failure. Nor is there any seeming sense of relief in the eastward reach of the frontier itself.
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