The description of the officials in the 19th century Russian literature, although certainly embellished, as is par of the course for the literary fiction, is nevertheless very well grounded in reality, especially given that many authors, including Nikolai Gogol, Ivan Goncharov, Mikhail Saltykov-Schchedrin, Gleb Uspyensky or Aleksey Pisyemsky worked for a substantial time in the state administration and large number of their characters are based on a real-life observations.

Now, the term 'copier' (or rather 'copyist') could have been also rendered as 'clerk' or 'office clerk' without losing much of the carried associations, as people who were called so were generally a low-end clerks, often tasked with writing down various documents and notes, usually in numerous copies, so that each such document could have been e.g. issued, archived, sent to another office further in the administration chain for approval, disseminated to all the people involved in the execution of a decision etc. This was a relatively simple task but a necessary one, as the administrative infrastructure of the Russian Empire has been quite extensive, the paperwork could have been rather elaborate, especially in an important office located in a large city, and the time-saving devices such as typewriters and carbon paper have either not been developed yet or have not gained popularity. The latter especially applies to the Gogol's works, usually set in the times contemporary to the author who died in 1852, while the first functional typewriter generally dates back to the device built by Christopher Latham Sholes 15 years later in USA, followed by early mimeographs in the next two decades, and carbon paper, although developed around 1801 in Italy, it never gained much interest before the advent of typewriters due to the relatively high force required to produce a trace, what made it not suitable for writing with an ubiquitous nib pen. In addition to mere copying an existing document, clerks were often tasked with writing official documents from shorthand or hastily written manuscripts, updating the existing documents with new data (what required rewriting them from scratch) and collating or editing data from numerous sources, for example by producing comprehensive reports from the partial information coming from the branch offices or other locations.

The image of a governmental copyist was usually a dismal one, and carried a strong connotation of a low-end, poorly paid and not so healthy job that although associated with the social advancement, especially for people of rural background, offered little by itself and was only an opportunity for a further promotion that might or might have not come. The wages of the entry-level clerks, usually awarded 14th, lowest rank was roughly 4-5 roubles per month in 1880s what allowed for a very humble living in an urban setting, but did not allow any savings. A typical clerk could have started to think about marrying and supporting a family after his wage rose to 25-30 roubles what usually required either luck, protection or 10-12 years of work. It was a steady employment though, sometimes too stable, as parodied in the 1833 story by Duke Vladimir Fyodorovich Odoyevski, titled The Tale about how Ivan Bogdanovich did not manage to wish his superiors a Merry Easter, and chances of losing such job were slim for any reasonably diligent person who did not make enemies in the workplace. Of course, there were exceptions, such as the aftermath of the Russo-Polish war of 1830-1831 or January Uprising of 1863, when many Russian officials of Polish descent were sacked and replaced with native Russians as a part of the Russification process. In addition, copyists and scriveners were commonly padding their wages with additional side jobs, such as copying or writing the official documents from the received notes for e.g. lawyers (any kind of written agreements usually required to be made in multiple copies received by each party, a lawyer and a respective court or office.

What is interesting however, is that the person holding a rank of titular councilor is essentially working in the capacity of a lowly pencil-pusher tasked with writing memos in triplicate, what was usually a job for the people holding ranks of registrars or lower secretaries. Please note that 'titular councilor' is a relatively high honour, and according to the 'Table of ranks' first introduced by Peter I and used throughout the Russian Empire, it was a 9th rank of 14 (the lower number, the higher the office), equal to the Captain in the army. Thus, not a real decision-maker (this is more or less the intended meaning of the word 'titular'), but not a fresh office worker either. It aws not uncommon for people holding that rank to be tasked with a supervision or management of the teams composed of junior officials. This rang was also automatically bestowed initially on the academic doctors and professors, and after 1809 - to all university graduates (a notable accomplishment back then). In addition, such rank also carried a personal promotion to lower nobility (dvoryanstvo) and with further promotions also opened the way to a hereditary one.

This, of course, was most likely a literary device to present the protagonist as a 'loser', what is a relatively common in 19th-century Russian literature and also later works set in Imperial times (e.g. Fandorin cycle by Boris Akunin). Usage of obsolete names, often associated with Orthodox Church, such as Akakiy, Akinf', Makar, Luka or Anisiy, very often juxtaposed with mundanely-sounding last name is another trope that often appears when the character is meant to be either comically inept or somewhat out of touch with the real world. Using modern parallel, a titular councilor was a sort of a lower manager in a corporate world - already not a rank-and-file 'office drone' but not a boss either. Inflated pride, often not backed with real achievements, constant attempts to show one's worth in hopes of being granted a raise or promotion and condescending reaction from the higher-ups treating such people as 'rat-racers' were usually a part of a package. Another variant of such characterization could have also been a person who was granted the rank due to other achievements (such as aforementioned graduation or the family background) but is completely not suited for the administrative work, preferring academic or practical pursuits and thus is never able to thrive in the workplace while also not being able to find other employment or source of income for whatever reason (think eponymous protagonist of Oblomov by Ivan Goncharov). Yet another one, commonly found in the works criticizing the rampant corruption within Imperial administration, such as Thousand Souls by Aleksey Pisyemski is a strongly moral, straightforward and intelligent person that is unable to advance in the administration due to their conviction that corruption, bribes and nepotism are something that should have no place in the governmental service what alienates them from both their coworkers and superiors. Many writers also frequently juxtaposed a perceived elevated status of the low-ranking officials with poverty and relatively low importance of one's work. Sure, they allowed to a statewide administration to run more or less efficiently, but their work was arduous, mechanical and completely alienated from any meaning, not unlike a work of an assembly line worker.