I am very pleased to welcome the developing literature on the actual workings of Russian serfdom, of which Tracy Dennison's new book, is a significant contribution. In this remarkable study of the vast Sheremetyev estate prior to emancipation, Dennison explores not the stereotype of the Russian serf economy, but its reality.

Her excellent study of the practice of Russian serfdom on the eve of emancipation answers what I have considered for forty years the greatest puzzle of Russian economic development. The stereotype advanced by Alexander Gershchenkron (based in part on the work of Chayanov) taught that the retention of the commune doomed Russia to slow growth both in industry and agriculture. Emancipation bound serfs to the inefficient redistributional commune and retarded peasant mobility. It also created demographic problems by encouraging large families to take advantage of communal redistributional practices. Moreover, the rigid government of the commune by village elders held back the more innovative younger commune members.

The first studies of Russian growth, such as by Raymond Goldsmith and myself, however found that Russian growth of both industry and agriculture was average or even high by European standards and that labor was mobile. If the stereotype were true, growth of this nature was not possible. The conclusion: The stereotype was wrong.

Dennison takes on what she calls “the peasant myth,” which is her expression for what I call the Gershchenkron stereotype. She chose the huge Sheremetyev estate, which encompassed a number of villages and individual communes. The estate kept and preserved remarkable records, spanning a century—records of land transaction, assembly minutes, complaints, estate inventories, and the like.

The records are far from perfect and require some leaps of faith, but they reveal a picture that fractures most of the “Peasant Myth.” Sheremetyev serfdom involved active land and labor markets. Peasant assemblies were not dominated by elders, but often included the youngest and most dynamic peasants (who tried to avoid service because they had better things to do). The only real active commune covered the entire estate and received significant input from the estate manager. The owners rarely visited; they left matters in the hands of professional staff. One feature of the “Peasant Myth” appeared to hold; namely, collective responsibility for taxes, but on this crucial issue records are tenuous. The few records that exist show few households in arrears. Contrary to expectations, simple-family households dominated.

Dennison's study of the Sheremetyev estate calls into serious question the “Peasant Myth,” but she does explain carefully that it was located in the nonblack earth region, where peasants paid for their land primarily in taxes rather than work on communal lands. Many households contributed to their tax payments by nonagricultural work either in the countryside or in the city. A minority lived from farming alone. This is important but does not detract from her conclusions about the institutional framework of peasant life, which should have been relatively constant across Russia.

I know the painstaking nature of case study work with ancient and incomplete records. We need more of them, but there are few scholars capable of such work. My hope is that Russian economic historians will jump in to fill the void.

I recommend Tracy Dennison's book highly. It is compact, well organized and written, and a surprisingly easy read.