Dear Moscow, This is a “Dear John” letter. You have had so little interest in the outside world for so long that you probably don’t even know what that is. I will explain. It begins with love. In my case, it was a desperate kind of love with overtones of a sacred bond and the aftertaste of a false note. It was a bit like Aleksandr Pushkin’s ode to you, which all Russian children memorize in the middle grades, usually oblivious to the fact that it is plucked from “Eugene Onegin”: Moscow . . . How many strains are fusing in that one sound, for Russian hearts! What store of riches it imparts!
Posted on: Sun, 30 Nov 2014 03:03:02 +0000
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