In the Soviet Embassy, they were offended at first, and balked; then, by some miracle, they backtracked. They didn’t even stamp “unreturnable” in his passport. Instead, they retroactively granted him the status of participant in a “scholarly exchange.”
26 From the Willow Chest
The Correspondence of Jacob and Marusya
(MAY 1913–JANUARY 1914) MOSCOW–YURYUZAN MARUSYA TO JACOB
MAY 8, 1913
Give me your word, Jacob, that we will never, ever mention this again. Only on that condition will I tell you everything that has happened. It was terrible! In the middle of the night on the 5th, I woke up, not from pain, but from a sensation of hot trickling down below. I discovered that I was covered with blood. I was terrified. I couldn’t get up. Three o’clock in the morning! All alone, no one else around. I knew I was dying. But I managed to stand up and, somehow, make it to Nyusha’s attic room. I woke her up. During the day, I can telephone from Mrs. Malygin’s, one floor below. But not in the middle of the night! And I sent Nyusha off to alert Mikhail, who had arrived from Petersburg the day before and was staying on Sytinsky Lane. He arrived in forty minutes—very drunk, as he told me later; he was coming from some sort of banquet. After that, I don’t remember anything. I woke up in the hospital. Now I’m home again. Weak. But alive. We lost the child. And I beg you—bury the memory about what might have been, but now can never be. Perhaps for the best. YURYUZAN–MOSCOW JACOB TO MARUSYA Telegram
MAY 14, 1913
LITTLE ONE DEAREST IT PAINS ME THAT YOU SUFFER AND I’M NOT THERE ALL WILL BE WELL HUSBAND JACOB
MAY 14, 1913
Little one, dearest treasure, I am in despair. I rushed to see Lieutenant Colonel Yanchevsky without thinking and didn’t choose my words carefully—who was sick, with what, why it was urgent. In short, my request for leave was denied. There is another clerk here, on rotation, but he happens to be on leave for his father’s funeral. So I’m unable to come to you right away. It wasn’t me but Mikhail who was by your side, and this pains me. It’s as though he stole that moment from me when I needed to be with you. I will honor your wishes, and not inquire further about it. I just prayed to the God I’m not sure I believe in. And felt nothing but distant emptiness. I recall all the miracles that take place, even in our time—remember the stories my cousin told about John of Kronstadt? But I’m willing to pray to all the gods, even John of Kronstadt! Only I don’t know how.
I retreated to my little corner, sat down, and was suddenly overcome with a boundless sense of gratitude, to whom I’m not sure, that you are alive, and well, and that nothing happened from which you can’t recover. MOSCOW–YURYUZAN MARUSYA TO JACOB Telegram
MAY 16, 1913
I’M FULLY RECOVERED JUST TIRED MARUSYA YURYUZAN–MOSCOW JACOB TO MARUSYA
MAY 17, 1913
Hello, my love. I got your telegram yesterday—it crossed in the mail with mine. You write that you have recovered, but that you’re tired. How is it possible to have already recovered? After such a serious condition, you can’t get well all of a sudden like that. You may feel better, but all the same you have to take care of yourself. Eat well, look after your health. All those things you aren’t fond of doing. And take your temperature—if it goes up, it could be dangerous. Yesterday evening, I stopped by to talk to a doctor, a Pole, who settled here a long time ago. He treats everyone around here. He said that if you don’t have any fever, and if there are no discharges, the danger has most likely passed. He said that anemia can sometimes result from this, and that you should have it checked. And, the whole evening, he regaled me with stories about some other Pole from Petersburg, who discovered some substance or crystal contained in the blood, and I spent two and a half hours listening to him. I’m usually interested in scientific subjects—but this time, not in the least. I couldn’t wait to get back to the barracks, to my bunk, to write you and tell you to take your temperature immediately! And if you’re anemic, you must eat meat, cooked rare. Beefsteak. And lemons. In the morning, I’ll send you some money. I’m very worried about you, so look after your health. If not for your own sake, then for mine. And put aside your studies for the time being, I beg you. Write me openly, little one, and include all the details. MOSCOW–YURYUZAN MARUSYA TO JACOB
MAY 24, 1913
There are things that you want to erase from your memory forever. I asked you never to write me about this subject again. When the first sense of alarm had passed, I realized that I didn’t want to have the child at this moment, and the baby felt that. We will not have a little Elga. I feel profound guilt toward her, and I don’t want any reminders. I told Mikhail, too, not to dare speak of it again. If you want to anger me, you can continue to pester me with your questions and worries. YURYUZAN–MOSCOW JACOB TO MARUSYA
MAY 31, 1913
The greatest gift is confidence in your own future. For the past few days, I’ve been very downcast, God knows why. Perhaps you’ll think it’s because I doubt myself, doubt you, doubt life and all higher things. Not at all. I’ve only been thinking about my future earnings. Oh, how much I need to earn, to maintain a wife who deserves to dress like the famous actress she is, and to feed the fragile creature she happens to be, and to shower her with presents to make her happy. MOSCOW–YURYUZAN MARUSYA TO JACOB
MAY 31, 1913
Headache. Weariness. Bad temper. My soul is asleep—there is nothing I want, nothing! Suddenly everything has become dreary, a burden. Perhaps your unspoken desire that I leave the stage is bearing fruit. Our studio is preparing a new performance, to a new composition called “Leaves in Autumn.” I began the rehearsals, then abandoned them; and now I’m unable to take part in the performance. The performance is very interesting. The dancers are in thrall to the wind, which blows them hither and thither, sweeps them around, throws them down, and picks them up again. And every figure is stripped of her own strength and will, and submits to the whirlwind motion, the intricate but random interactions of the figures, and a gust of wind sweeps them off the stage one by one, defeated, helpless bodies of the leaves and forlorn souls. After my absence, I came to the class and saw this piece finished, in its final form—without me. And the winter tour abroad, which I wasn’t eligible to take part in last year, will go on without me. London and Paris. It seems to me that I won’t have the strength to return to my studies after the troupe comes back from abroad. You are probably glad to hear I will be exchanging my old life for a more “respectable” one, and that I will devote myself to the subject of pedagogy, so dear to your heart, that there will be one more Froebel Miss on the planet, or, even better, one more housewife. YURYUZAN–MOSCOW JACOB TO MARUSYA
JUNE 10, 1913
Little one, nice as can be, I love your dancing, your art! Marusya, I have never had the privilege of seeing you onstage, but when I do, I’m sure it will bring me enormous pleasure. And it will happen, without fail. Your despondency can be explained by the weak state of your health. Your dance troupe will return, and you will continue your studies. I can take care of things myself; I can do everything around the house. I’ve learned how in the army.