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the same who exactly seizes the power inside the camp and celebrates crow’s picnics over his
trench-grave? As it turns out, it is not. These things have been etched into my memory
inerasably.
In my play
Republic of Labor, I presented some of the events that happened in that camp
on Bolshaya Kaluzhskaya 30. Understanding the impossibility of depicting everything like it was
in reality, because it would be inevitably considered as incitement of anti-Jewish sentiment (as if
that trio of Jews was not inflaming it in real life, caring little about consequences) I withheld the
abominably greedy Bershader. I concealed Burstein. I recomposed the profiteer Rosa Kalikman
into an amorphous Bella of eastern origin, and retained the only Jew, accountant Solomonov,
exactly like he was in life.
So, what about my loyal Jewish friends after they perused the play? The play aroused
extraordinarily passionate protests from V. L. Teush. He read it not immediately but when
Sovremennik had already decided to stage it in 1962, so the question was far from scholarly. The
Teushes were deeply injured by the figure of Solomonov. They thought it was dishonest and
unjust to show such a Jew (despite that in the real life, in the camp, he was exactly as I showed
him) in the age of oppression of Jews. (But then, it appears to me that such age is
everlasting?
When have our Jews
not been oppressed?) Teush was alarmed and extremely agitated, and put
forward an ultimatum that if I did not remove or at least soften up the image of Solomonov, then
all our friendship will be ruined and he and his wife will no longer be able to keep my
manuscripts. Moreover, they prophesized that my very name will be irretrievably lost and
blemished if I leave Solomonov in the play. Why not make him a Russian? They were
astonished. Is it so important that he be a Jew? (But if it doesn’t matter, why did Solomonov
select Jews to be
Idiots?)
I took a chill pill: a sudden censorial ban, no less weighty than the official Soviet
prohibition, had emerged from an unanticipated direction. However, the situation was soon
resolved by the official prohibition forbidding Sovremennik to stage the piece.
And there was another objection from Teush: “Your Solomonov has anything but a
Jewish personality. A Jew always behaves discreetly, cautiously, suppliantly, and even
cunningly, but from whence comes this pushy impudence of jubilant force? This is not true, it
cannot happen like this!”
However, I remember not this Solomonov alone, and it was
exactly like that! I saw many
things in the 1920s and 1930s in Rostov-on-Don. And Frenkel acted similarly, according to the
recollections of surviving engineers. Such a slip of a triumphant power into insolence and
arrogance is the most repelling thing for those around. Sure, it is usually the behavior of the
worst and rudest – but this is what becomes imprinted in memory. (Likewise the Russian image
is soiled by the obscenities of our villains.)
All these blandishments and appeals to avoid writing about the things like they were are
undistinguishable from what we heard from the highest Soviet tribunes: about anti-defamation,
about socialist realism – to write like it should be, not like it was. As if a creator is capable of
forgetting or creating his past anew! As if the full truth can be written in parts, including only
what is pleasing, secure and popular.
And how meticulously all the Jewish characters in my books were analyzed with every
personal feature weighted on apothecary scales. But the astonishing story of Grigory M., who did
not deliver the order to retreat to a dying regiment because he was frightened (
GULAG
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