Writing instructors often say that nothing in fiction happens without a stated or hinted reason. Dostoyevsky uses the word “suddenly” seven times in the first five pages of his short story the “White Nights.” In Russian history it is often the foreign ray, or light, or idea, or perspective that drives Russia, sometimes driving it crazy.

But, we generally know that human events do not usually happen suddenly. Like earthquakes, we feel them in a moment, but underneath the causal elements were long before inexorably moving toward the explosion. We, on the surface of things, measuring only what our senses tell us or what we want to believe, feel only the culminating shock.

Some say the Russian Revolution started with the Peredvizhniki, the Wanderers, those artists who revolted against the art establishment in St. Petersburg in the 1860s expressed in their art the tragic realism of the common man. But before that, the change started in the 1830s, with the enlightened writers like Belinsky, Bakunin, etc. More recently, the Soviet Union was crumbling years before the flag came down, but we didn’t know it or didn’t want to know it. The Twin Towers collapsed in 102 minutes. But surely the inertia for that disaster began years before, unnoticed or ignored by our political leaders.

Do things happen suddenly, or are the shocks of life always just an ignorance of predicting clues? If we were smart enough to notice and measure all the tremors of coming explosions, we might be prepared for the resulting shocks. But then life, especially ironic Russian life, would not be judged so eloquently by the masters like Dostoevsky.

Like a Russian River

Russian history,
it seems to me,
is much like a Russian river.

It lays unhappily frozen,
obedient within its constraining banks
for a period longer than it can stand.

Then suddenly,
A warm foreign ray of change
permeates the ice
and the river erupts,
climbing upon itself
moving recklessly down stream
releasing its discontent,
taking everything with it,
the good and the bad—
until it finds its kind of peace
and flows quietly again
with all appearances of normality.

But winter will come again
and how soon
no one knows
for sure.

 Frederick R. Andresen (1996)

For more read “Walking on Ice, An American Businessman is Russia.”

Greta Garbo was a beautiful and talented actress. She played the strict Bolshevik with an expressionless and cold face. Then, when she succumbed to the love of a man and the pleasures of Capitalism, she was her gorgeous and seductive self.  

Ninotchka, with all her stern Bolshevik reluctance, resists Leon’s comic advances. But he never gives up and she appears to never relent. “We don’t have men like you in my country,” she says. “Thank you,: says Leon. “That is why I believe in the future of my country,” she adds.She begins to weaken. In answer to Leon’s question, “Do you like me just a little bit? she says, “Your general appearance is not distasteful.”

“Must you flirt?” she asks. “Well, I don’t have to, but I find it natural.” Leon says. “Suppress it,” Ninotchka says, but she doesn’t turn away.”What kind of a girl are you, anyway? “ Leon asks. “Just what you see,” she says. “A tiny cog in the great wheel of evolution.”
“You’re the most adorable cog I’ve ever seen,” says Leon. “Don’t make an issue of my womanhood,” she says. But he does and she responds.

” When I kissed you,” she says, “I betrayed a Russian ideal. I should be stood up against the wall.” “Would that make you feel better?” Leon asks.” Much better,” she says, “I have paid the penalty.” Then the romance really starts.

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Russians have Christmas, too, but on January 7. Thirteen days after Western Christmas, the Russian Orthodox Church celebrates its Christmas, in accordance with the old Julian calendar. It’s a day of both solemn ritual and joyous celebration

After the 1917 Revolution, Christmas was banned, along with other religious celebrations throughout Russia. It wasn’t until 75 years later, in 1992, that the holiday was openly observed. Today, it’s once again celebrated in grand fashion, with the faithful participating in an all-night Mass in incense-filled Cathedrals amidst the company of the painted icons of Saints. On Christmas Eve, it is traditional for all family members to gather to share a special meal.

They re-invented the New Year’s holiday tradition to include a decorated tree, and introduced a character called “Grandfather Frost.” Known as “Ded Moroz,” Grandfather Frost looked very much like the western “Santa Claus” – except he wore a blue suit. Actually, Ded Moroz was a character that existed in the pagan culture, centuries earlier.

Today, Christmas is celebrated again, on January 7. But, to date, New Year’s remains the bigger event. Russia today is pretty well shut down from January 1 to about January 10. It is all a big holiday, by whatever name you want to call it.

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The prologue for the classic 1939 Greta Garbo film reads, “This picture takes place in Paris in those wonderful days when a siren was a brunette and not an alarm – and if a Frenchman turned out the light it was not on account of an air raid!” As promised, here is another peek into this humorous contrast between the Soviet Union and the West.

The three Bolsheviks, sent to sell the jewels are quickly seduced by Paris and Ninotchka is given the charge by her superior, “They’re dragging the good name of our country through every cafe and nightclub. How can the Bolshevik cause gain respect among the Muslims if your three representatives Bujlianoff, Iranoff and Kopalski get so drunk that they throw a carpet out of their hotel window and complain to the management that it didn’t fly?”

Right off the train in Paris, Ninotchka is offered help by a porter. “Why do you want to carry my bags?” she asks. “That is my business,:  the porter replies. “That’s no business,” Ninotchka sternly says; “That’s social injustice. “ The porter responds, “That depends on the tip.”

 Then she meets Count Leon d’Algout (Leon), played by Melvyn Douglas,  and her cold life begins to warm.

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Under all the turmoil of a thousand years, Russians are yet a colorful and creative people. Sometimes you have to look hard to see it. But the artists, writers, composers, and the brilliant scientists and inventors through the ages have left an indelible mark on the word.

I’ve worked mainly with the younger Russians, those under forty-five today. There is a large mental gap between the young who graduated in the last days of the Soviet Union and the older generations who lived the greater part of their lives under the Communist regime. For the most part, the young are dedicated to a better life as they might imagine it or have personally witnessed it in their frequent travels in the rest of the world. It is an attitude nurtured by their sense of possibility and a growing sense of responsibility. They are often well educated, traveled, cultured, and speak English and other foreign tongues. I don’t think there was a woman (or many men) in our offices in Russia, while being from the top technical institutes,  who could not discuss Rus­sian and Western literature, the stage, music (classical as well as rock and jazz), and dance.

But, Russia is also losing many of best and brightest who cannot wait for the men in power to create a domestic environment for their creativity and energy. So they leave, these young and impatient Russians, although reluctant to leave Mother Russia and families. On the other hand, some come back with their MBAs and become leaders at home.  Russia doesn’t seem to know what to do with these bright young men and women. A recent poll stated that eighty percent of Russians do not want to emigrate. Amazing—so what does that say of the remaining twenty percent? Are these the creative minds that hold the future promise? I know this is a philosophical view, but I am reminded of the famous painting of  A Knight at the Crossroads by Viktor Vasnetsov: (The State Russian Museum, St. Petersburg,seen above) They are all, these young, ambitious and committed like the knight at the crossroad. For the sake of their homeland, I hope they stay.

Excerpted from “Walking on Ice, An American Businessman in Russia”

 “Suddenly” is a word much used by Russians. I remember in a past writing workshop we were told never to use the word “suddenly” —that only Dostoevsky could use that word. That nothing in fiction happens without a stated or hinted reason. In Dostoevsky’s “White Nights” he uses the word seven times in the first five pages. I used the word in my poem, “Russian Rivers,” “Suddenly, a foreign ray permeates the ice.” In Russian history it is often the foreign ray, or light, or idea, or perspective that drives Russia and Russians–sometimes crazy. Zorin used two words repeatedly in his lecture—“suddenly” and “incredible.” Those two words are apt when discussing Russian history and culture.

I mentioned to Zorin that it seemed to me that, like an earthquake, human events do not usually happen quickly. We feel them in a moment, but underneath the causal elements were long before inexorably moving toward a future explosion. We, on the surface of things, measuring only what our senses tell us or what we want to believe, feel only the culminating shock. I held up my hand and offered that The Russian Revolution started long before 1917—maybe in the 1860s when the artists in St. Petersburg, “The Wanderers,” rejected the European influence and moved near Moscow and began the great paintings of the Russian common man. Other hands went up and the protest was “No, it was the writers like Belinsky, Bakunin, etc. early in 1830s and the influence of the Enlightenment. The Czars were blind to this. Likewise, the Soviet Union was crumbling years before the flag came down, but we didn’t know it or want to know it. (Military-industrial complex pressures?) The Twin Towers collapsed in 102 minutes. Surely the inertia for that disaster began years before, unnoticed or ignored by political leaders.

Then on the other hand, there is the unpredictability of everyday Russian life. Do things happen suddenly, or are the shocks of life always the lack of a preconscious ignorance of predicting clues? If we were so smart to notice and measure all the tremors of coming explosions, we might be prepared for the resulting shocks. But then life, especially ironic Russian life, would not be judged so eloquently by the masters like Dostoevsky.

 Excerpted from “Walking on Ice, An American Businessman in Russia”