*Spoilers for the Winternight trilogy ahead
Konstantin Nikonovich – one of the antagonists of the Winternight trilogy – is quite determined to give all priests a bad name and make himself the most hated man in his world. Let’s see: being a hypocrite, blaming his failure on Vasya, betraying Anna who trusted him with all her heart, trying to send Vasya to a convent, kidnapping a child from her bed, trying to burn Vasya at the stake, etc. Not much room for redemption, is there?
Yet, he is also a complex figure without whom the story is not complete.
Throughout the three books, Konstantin undergoes considerable development. From a proud man who “speaks for God”, he becomes a tool of a devil, flirts with chaos, and facilitates destruction, but ultimately finds his way again, though only moments before his death.
The Winternight trilogy is written in third-person omniscient. Through the characters’ voices, we know they each see a side of Konstantin which they deem his entire character. None of them ever look deeper to grasp the layers that make Konstantin who he is. Granted, none of them should be required to do so. After all, Konstantin has tried to get every single one of these characters in trouble. There is, however, one who does look deeper and ask more questions, not to understand Konstantin, but to better take advantage of him. Or so it is at first.
Konstantin is a priest who charms people wherever he goes, which is why, in the beginning, he is sent to the village of Lesnaya Zemlya by the regent of Moscow due to the concern that his influence could one day turn the people against the Grand Prince. Konstantin resents this arrangement. He is a man of talent and incurable vanity who never fails to believe that he deserves better than whatever is offered. Although, his main struggle is not the uncomfortable living conditions at the village or company that he deems beneath himself.
He sows doubt in Vasya’s village and causes the people to abandon the household spirits to feed his ego and ambition, to soothe his frustration; but most of all, he does it all to be noticed by “God”.
It is made clear from the beginning that what Konstantin yearns for above all is the voice of God, he seeks validation and direction from a being he has been taught to worship his entire life. So far, his work has not gotten him closer to God, and he resents that more than anything.
Somewhere along the way, Konstantin begins to find Vasya Petrovna fascinating. Her defiance and unconventionality draw him in and stomp all over his established values. He wants to know why he – a man who has turned heads and hearts everywhere — can do nothing to shake her confidence. He wants to know why her smiles are freely given to winter and horses, but not to him. And beneath his jumble of emotions, he envies her sense of certainty, that she has always known her calling while he does not.
Konstantin tries to impose his beliefs on Vasya, convincing himself that he is doing the work of God. When Vasya refuses to be persuaded, he calls her a “witch”.
Is he attracted to Vasya in a romantic sense? That remains up for interpretation.
There is also something to be said about Vasya herself. She does not understand Konstantin. This is not a criticism of Vasya, but rather an observation of a character flaw excellently fleshed out in the books. Vasya is too certain of her perception of Konstantin that she does not bother to think from his point of view, or truly consider where his weakness lies and what he is capable of. Her underestimation of him is what causes Vasya to be caught in a mob and her beloved horse struck dead later on.
Konstantin’s vulnerability is palpable despite his calm front. Hence, the Bear – Medved – takes control of him easily under the disguise of God. Ironically, the Bear is also the first being who fully knows him.
Throughout The Bear and the Nightingale, Konstantin does Medved’s chaotic bidding, his obsession with Vasya leads him from one catastrophe to another. In The Girl in the Tower, we learn that Konstantin has begun to see spirits everywhere. His faith in “God” has declined. And the more he believes that he has no more guidance, the more dangerous he becomes.
Medved chooses the best moment to strike again, which is when Konstantin is certain Vasya has died in the fire. His pride has been restored, his influence on the people unquestionable, yet his soul is damaged and his faith shattered.
“There is no god,” Konstantin claims as he leads Vasya to the cage.
Then let’s create chaos now, Medved suggests during their conversation later, it will make you forget the girl, if nothing else. And Konstantin once again shakes hands with the devil and clings to him for a sense of direction. Why should he deny himself mortal pleasures anymore? Why should he save himself for a “God” who has never answered his prayers?
From this moment on, Konstantin does whatever Medved asks to put Moscow in doubt and fear. In return, Medved fulfils all his wishes. But Konstantin is still far from content; he remains lost and confused. His truest self only manifests when he paints; and from those paintings Medved begins to see – not a tool – but a powerful soul, a man who can conquer hearts in a way he cannot.
Once or twice, Medved wants to stop the manipulation and the lies; when confronted by Morozko and Vasya later on, he even wants to save Konstantin’s life. But his desire for chaos is greater; and they have gone too far with the game to turn back. Medved continues to use Konstantin for his gain throughout The Winter of the Witch.
We move on, a battle between the dead and the living breaks out in Moscow, Medved cornered by Morozko and Vasya. It is then that Father Sergei – Sasha’s mentor – vanquishes the army of vampires with his holy power. It isn’t that he has met “God”, or possesses magic, it is through true enlightenment that Sergei is able to wield this power. For the first time, Konstantin realizes that God does exist.
Medved responds with the truth – or the truth as he knows it:
“There isn’t a God. There is only faith.”
It is something that Konstantin has understood at last.
“What is the difference?”
Konstantin regrets that he has abandoned his faith too soon. He realizes now that God can manifest in all forms; he isn’t necessarily a voice or a figure. Konstantin chooses then to sacrifice himself so Medved can be subdued, admitting his defeat and staying true to his only wish since the beginning: to be sure of God’s presence.
Konstantin’s death is one of the three kings that bind Medved. To Dmitrii, Sasha and the Russian soldiers, the priest’s death is the end of a problem. To Morozko, it means no more than any man’s demise. To Vasya, it is a relief and a puzzle. The only one who sees it as a loss is the one who led Konstantin to his ruin and death, albeit not intentionally.
Medved does not mourn Konstantin as a beloved; it would not be fitting to assume that eternal beings like Medved and Morozko have the same definition of “love” as mortals do.
Rather, Medved mourns the pair of hands that could create life with a few strokes of a brush and the voice that could bring sweeping passion as well as destruction. And as a King of Chaos, Medved certainly mourns the tortured soul that contained eternal conflicts he meant to take advantage of, but also found beauty in (or grew attached to, or perhaps both, however Medved wants to label it. Aren’t we all as confused as Vasya when it comes to this relationship?).
Medved is Konstantin’s “demon” in every sense, but he is also the only one whose world is darkened – even if only a tiny bit – with Konstantin’s death.
*Fig. 1. Andrei Rublev, 1966
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