“Играй, Адель
Не знай печали,
Хариты, Лель
Тебя венчали
И колыбель
Твою качали.”
– A. Pushkin
One of the problems with not living anywhere near one’s parents is the fact that when you do actually get home, parents have emotional leverage. And emotional leverage allows them to drag you off on long road-trips. Like the one that I’m starting tomorrow. You know, it would be really nice to see Eastern Europe – without feeling as if I’m back to being five years old again.
It doesn’t help that things in the City are… awkward. I’m not sure why they got this way, and whether or not I’m to blame, but the weirdness is ever-present, so it’s not as if there is a good alternative to piling into the family car in an imitation of a bad Chevy Chase film. I never thought I’d say this – but I can’t wait to be back in the workplace!!!
I fear that barricading myself with Atwood and Geraldine Brooks may not be enough…God help me.
In my quiet life, I have so far found the emotional leverage always working to my advantage. My parents insist on feeding me all kinds of traditional dishes since when I am away from home, those are things I cannot get. I am the one who has to convince them for the shortest of trips.
Pushkin happens to be one my favourite poets. But my exposure to his works are all translations. Reading translated works is like eating chewed food, but that’s as close to Russian literature as I can come now.