I am now preparing a big exhibit on the tractor industry. When I’m finished, I’ll send you pictures. Mama writes that it’s very clean and tidy in your room. That makes it much easier to live.
I thought about writing a story about a family who lived in a very crowded and disorderly space. Everyone bickered and squabbled, and couldn’t get on together. Then, gradually, they all picked up their rooms, introduced order into their lives, and began to live more peaceably. When I have some free time, I may write on this subject. Do you approve?
I send you a strong handshake.
Your dad, Jacob GENRIKH TO MARUSYA
NOVEMBER 8, 1931
Dearest Mama,
I’ve been here with Papa for two days now. When I arrived in Stalingrad, Papa wasn’t at the station, so I went looking for him and got on the train to the tractor plant. On the train, I asked every person if they knew where Ossetsky lived, until I ran into Mstislavsky. Of course he said “No. 516.” That’s all I needed. When I got off the train, there was a very fine bus waiting there, and I was easily able to find No. 516, but it was locked. Papa wasn’t home. Not getting discouraged, I took off my coat and my bag, left my belongings with the neighbors, and went to see the Volga. When I got back, my papa was at home, and he didn’t even recognize me.
The next day, on the 7th, I went on a boat for the whole day with Papa, and in the evening we watched people dance the fox-trot (it’s like they’re just dawdling, not dancing). From my first visit there, I’ve really liked the American dining room. Yesterday Papa read some German (the Nibelungenlied). I like Papa’s comrades, but not the Americans (they fight a lot).
With aviation-tractor greetings! A kiss, Genrikh JACOB TO MARUSYA
NOVEMBER 10, 1931
Dearest friend, I’m late sending this to you by three days. Forgive me! I’ve been busy with Genrikh, and with the Great October Revolution holiday celebrations. He has grown—he’s half a head taller than he was when I left him.
As for his general development, he hasn’t made a lot of progress. Every day, I teach him a bit of German. From the very first days, I noticed he was no more diligent than he used to be.
His visit has been like a great holiday for me, but I must tell you frankly that a visit from you would be an even greater holiday. I’m concerned about his development. You must make an effort to counter his interests with others that are broader and deeper. He is too technically oriented, one-sided. After his aviation craze, his new obsession is military affairs and technology. When we were taking a walk in the mountains, he said, “This would be a good place for artillery.” This is so unpleasant to my ears. He should stop attending that club for amateur snipers and gunners.
His studies seem to be going well, judging by his knowledge of trigonometry, which I checked. His knowledge of grammar is poor, and comes only as a result of much reading. We must encourage his literary interests. His innate taste and sensitivity to style will help.
Try to interest him in things that are far from him—an easy book on Darwinism, history, and so forth. The things we read at his age. I’m compiling a special reading list for him, if you approve of the idea. I’ll look for the books in the catalogue here.
I’m reading Genrikh the Nibelungenlied in German. I found a place that you had underlined—“Love and suffering always go together.”
I give you a kiss—a friendly, and even friendlier, one.
With all the passion of nighttime combat in which both come out victors.
FEBRUARY 8, 1932
My dear Marusya, I’ve fallen out of our regular rhythm of correspondence, because I can’t meet the quota of evening studies. On February 10, I have to submit all expedited work, and I’ll begin the cycle anew. And I’ll keep up my end of our correspondence. Another significant date—the one-year anniversary of my tenure here. I’ve taken a liking to this work. The entire tractor project is American, and the first tractor is also being manufactured according to a successful American model.
For the time being, I think it will make you happy that I have received a prize as a model worker. Unfortunately, the reward did not take the form of a special ID, as I would have preferred, but a monetary prize. I don’t know how much. I bought you galoshes, the smallest size, as you requested. If they don’t fit, you have only yourself to blame. Tell me Genrikh’s size—7 or 8? I’ll soon be able to buy them. In addition, I was issued a premium bond for seventy rubles. We’ll survive. And my lectures have been temporarily suspended. A pity. It kept me in shape to prepare every week. There are several top-notch economists here I like to socialize with. It’s a narrow circle; we get together and discuss this and that.
The package is ready to be sent out to you. It will go out the day after tomorrow.
I kiss you, little one. JACOB TO GENRIKH
MARCH 10, 1932
My dearest Genrikh, it’s hard for me to express my joy at your progress. You have achieved everything you wanted to, without any outside help. In fact, no one would have been able to help you in this. The Americans admire, above all, people who organize their own lives, on their own terms. They even have a term for this: a “self-made man.”
If you want to, you can manage to organize your life in order to achieve what you wish. There are four areas of activity that should take priority for you: your technical studies, physical training, literature, and helping your mother. She wrote to me about your visit to the airport. It’s too bad I couldn’t have gone with you. I would have liked to hear your explanations. We haven’t seen each other since last year, and now I can’t even imagine when we’ll see each other again. Let’s hope and believe it will be soon.
I applaud your decision to leave school to study in the Workers’ University. This is the action of a real man. If you get accepted for the subway construction project, it will provide you with a very good education. What profession are you considering now? Write me about all your new experiences and impressions, about your activities, about your new comrades. Where is the Workers’ University, and how do you get there every day? I hope you have a book to read while you’re en route. Always keep a book handy, so you won’t waste time—a book you only read when you’re en route.
I give you a firm handshake—your Jacob. JACOB TO MARUSYA
OCTOBER 24, 1932
Well, Marusya, things are really looking up. At the moment, the money situation is good; and prospects for the future are also good. Yesterday I was very happy. Our first poster went to print. It’s very impressive. Things are moving apace now. I am responsible for all the publishing work—it’s far better than being in the planning department.
Today is a holiday. In the morning, I took an hour or two for my weekly general hygiene: washing in hot water, shaving, washing my hair, breakfast. An hour and a half to finish everything.
At ten, I’m already at my desk. The day is clear and sunny, but I’m under surprise attack. I have to edit a huge pile of manuscripts by the end of the day. Now, after four hours of work, I have two hours to catch my breath, take a walk, read the paper—then back I go.
The radio has been playing all day, but it doesn’t prevent me from working. They played the waltz from Eugene Onegin, and I got up and danced around the room. Back and forth, from one side of the room to the other. Then I smoked a cigarette and sat down at the desk again to work.