Search Results Heading

MBRLSearchResults

mbrl.module.common.modules.added.book.to.shelf
Title added to your shelf!
View what I already have on My Shelf.
Oops! Something went wrong.
Oops! Something went wrong.
While trying to add the title to your shelf something went wrong :( Kindly try again later!
Are you sure you want to remove the book from the shelf?
Oops! Something went wrong.
Oops! Something went wrong.
While trying to remove the title from your shelf something went wrong :( Kindly try again later!
    Done
    Filters
    Reset
  • Discipline
      Discipline
      Clear All
      Discipline
  • Is Peer Reviewed
      Is Peer Reviewed
      Clear All
      Is Peer Reviewed
  • Reading Level
      Reading Level
      Clear All
      Reading Level
  • Content Type
      Content Type
      Clear All
      Content Type
  • Year
      Year
      Clear All
      From:
      -
      To:
  • More Filters
      More Filters
      Clear All
      More Filters
      Item Type
    • Is Full-Text Available
    • Subject
    • Publisher
    • Source
    • Donor
    • Language
    • Place of Publication
    • Contributors
    • Location
3 result(s) for "Kaganovsky, Lilya, author"
Sort by:
The voice of technology : Soviet cinema's transition to sound, 1928-1935
\"As cinema industries around the globe adjusted to the introduction of synch-sound technology, the Soviet Union was also shifting culturally, politically, and ideologically from the heterogeneous film industry of the 1920s to the centralized industry of the 1930s, and from the avant-garde to Socialist Realism. In The Voice of Technology: Soviet Cinema's Transition to Sound, 1928-1935, Lilya Kaganovsky explores the history, practice, technology, ideology, aesthetics, and politics of the transition to sound within the context of larger issues in Soviet media history. Industrialization and centralization of the cinema industry greatly altered the way movies in the Soviet Union were made, while the introduction of sound radically influenced the way these movies were received. Kaganovsky argues that the coming of sound changed the Soviet cinema industry by making audible, for the first time, the voice of State power, directly addressing the Soviet viewer. by exploring numerous examples of films from this transitional period, the author demonstrates the importance of the new technology of sound in producing and imposing the 'Soviet Voice'.\"-- Provided by publisher.
How the Soviet Man Was Unmade
In Stalinist Russia, the idealized Soviet man projected an image of strength, virility, and unyielding drive in his desire to build a powerful socialist state. In monuments, posters, and other tools of cultural production, he became the demigod of Communist ideology. But beneath the surface of this fantasy, between the lines of texts and in film, lurked another figure: the wounded body of the heroic invalid, the second version of Stalin's New Man. In How the Soviet Man Was Unmade, Lilya Kaganovsky exposes the paradox behind the myth of the indestructible Stalinist-era male. In her analysis of social-realist literature and cinema, she examines the recurring theme of the mutilated male body, which appears with startling frequency. Kaganovsky views this representation as a thinly veiled statement about the emasculated male condition during the Stalinist era. Because the communist state was \"full of heroes,\" a man could only truly distinguish himself and attain hero status through bodily sacrifice-yet in his wounding, he was forever reminded that he would be limited in what he could achieve, and was expected to remain in a state of continued subservience to Stalin and the party.Kaganovsky provides an insightful reevaluation of classic works of the period, including the novels of Nikolai Ostrovskii (How Steel Was Tempered) and Boris Polevoi (A Story About a Real Man), and films such as Ivan Pyr'ev's The Party Card, Eduard Pentslin's The Fighter Pilots, and Mikhail Chiaureli's The Fall of Berlin, among others. The symbolism of wounding and dismemberment in these works acts as a fissure in the facade of Stalinist cultural production through which we can view the consequences of historic and political trauma.
How the Soviet Man Was Unmade
In Stalinist Russia, the idealized Soviet man projected an image of strength, virility, and unyielding drive in his desire to build a powerful socialist state. In monuments, posters, and other tools of cultural production, he became the demigod of Communist ideology. But beneath the surface of this fantasy, between the lines of texts and in film, lurked another figure: the wounded body of the heroic invalid, the second version of Stalin's New Man.InHow the Soviet Man Was Unmade, Lilya Kaganovsky exposes the paradox behind the myth of the indestructible Stalinist-era male. In her analysis of social-realist literature and cinema, she examines the recurring theme of the mutilated male body, which appears with startling frequency. Kaganovsky views this representation as a thinly veiled statement about the emasculated male condition during the Stalinist era. Because the communist state was \"full of heroes,\" a man could only truly distinguish himself and attain hero status through bodily sacrifice-yet in his wounding, he was forever reminded that he would be limited in what he could achieve, and was expected to remain in a state of continued subservience to Stalin and the party.Kaganovsky provides an insightful reevaluation of classic works of the period, including the novels of Nikolai Ostrovskii (How Steel Was Tempered) and Boris Polevoi (A Story About a Real Man), and films such as Ivan Pyr'ev'sThe Party Card, Eduard Pentslin'sThe Fighter Pilots, and Mikhail Chiaureli'sThe Fall of Berlin, among others. The symbolism of wounding and dismemberment in these works acts as a fissure in the facade of Stalinist cultural production through which we can view the consequences of historic and political trauma.