Lyova Fedotov, the son of the late Central Committee instructor, Fedor Fedotov (Apt. 262), kept a diary and believed that “everything is important for history.” Inna Gaister, the daughter of the deputy people’s commissar of agriculture, Aron Gaister (Apt. 162), published a detailed “family chronicle.” Anatoly Granovsky, the son of the director of the Berezniki Chemical Plant, Mikhail Granovsky (Apt. 418), defected to the United States and wrote a memoir about his work as a secret agent under the command of Andrei Sverdlov, the son of the first head of the Soviet state and organizer of the Red Terror, Yakov Sverdlov. As a young revolutionary, Yakov Sverdlov wrote several revealing letters to Andrei’s mother, Klavdia Novgorodtseva (Apt. 319), and to his young friend and disciple, Kira Egon-Besser. Both women preserved his letters and wrote memoirs about him. Boris Ivanov, the “Baker,” wrote memoirs about Yakov’s and Klavdia’s life in Siberian exile. Andrei Sverdlov (Apt. 319) helped edit his mother’s memoirs, coauthored three detective stories based on his experience as a secret police official, and was featured in the memoirs of Anna Larina-Bukharina (Apt. 470) as one of her interrogators. After the arrest of the former head of the secret police investigations department, Grigory Moroz (Apt. 39), his wife, Fanni Kreindel, and eldest son, Samuil, were sent to labor camps, and his two younger sons, Vladimir and Aleksandr, to an orphanage. Vladimir kept a diary and wrote several defiant letters that were used as evidence against him (and published by later historians); Samuil wrote his memoirs and sent them to a museum. Eva Levina-Rozengolts, a professional artist and sister of the people’s commissar of foreign trade, Arkady Rozengolts (Apt. 237), spent seven years in exile and produced several graphic cycles dedicated to those who came back and those who did not. The oldest of the Old Bolsheviks, Elena Stasova (Apts. 245, 291), devoted the last ten years of her life to the “rehabilitation” of those who came back and those who did not.
Yulia Piatnitskaia, the wife of the secretary of the Comintern Executive Committee, Osip Piatnitsky (Apt. 400), started a diary shortly before his arrest and kept it until she, too, was arrested. Her diary was published by her son, Vladimir, who also wrote a book about his father. Tatiana (“Tania”) Miagkova, the wife of the chairman of the State Planning Committee of Ukraine, Mikhail Poloz (Apt. 199), regularly wrote to her family from prison, exile, and labor camps. Her letters were preserved and typed up by her daughter, Rada Poloz. Natalia Sats, the wife of the people’s commissar of internal trade, Izrail Veitser (Apt. 159), founded the world’s first children’s theater and wrote two autobiographies, one of which dealt with her time in prison, exile, and labor camps. Agnessa Argiropulo, the wife of the secret police official who proposed the use of extrajudicial troikas during the Great Terror, Sergei Mironov, told the story of their life together to a Memorial Society researcher, who published it as a book. Maria Denisova, the wife of the Red Cavalry commissar, Efim Shchadenko (Apts. 10, 505), served as the prototype for Maria in Vladimir Mayakovsky’s poem A Cloud in Pants. The director of the Moscow-Kazan Railway, Ivan Kuchmin (Apt. 226), served as the prototype for Aleksei Kurilov in Leonid Leonov’s novel, The Road to Ocean. The Pravda correspondent, Mikhail Koltsov (Apt. 143), served as the prototype for Karkov in Ernest Hemingway’s novel, For Whom the Bell Tolls. “Doubting Makar,” from Andrei Platonov’s short story by the same name, participated in the building of the House of Government. All Saints Street, on which the House of Government was built, was renamed in honor of Aleksandr Serafimovich, the author of The Iron Flood (Apt. 82). Yuri Trifonov, the son of the Red Army commissar and chairman of the Main Committee on Foreign Concessions, Valentin Trifonov (Apt. 137), wrote a novella, The House on the Embankment, that immortalized the House of Government. His widow, Olga Trifonova, would become the director of the House on the Embankment Museum, which continues to collect books, letters, diaries, stories, paintings, photographs, gramophones, and other remnants of the House of Government.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book took many years to write. I am grateful to the Hoover Institution for one of the quietest years of my life and the Wissenschaftskolleg zu Berlin, for one of the happiest; to the American Council of Learned Societies, National Endowment for the Humanities, the National Council for Eurasian and East European Research, and the University of California, Berkeley, for financial support; to Christiane Büchner, for letting me watch the making of her film and teaching me how to record interviews; to Olga Bandrimer, for transcribing those interviews and contributing her own stories; to Artem Zadikian, for being the world’s most observant and generous photographer; and to Michael Coates, Nicole Eaton, Eleonor Gilburd, Clarissa Ibarra, Jason R. Morton, Brandon Schechter, Charles Shaw, I. T. Sidorova, Victoria Smolkin, A. G. Tepliakov, and Katherine Zubovich, for help with research. I am particularly grateful to the friends and colleagues who have read the entire manuscript and offered suggestions ranging from the inspiring to the debilitating: Victoria E. Bonnell, George Breslauer, John Connelly, Brian DeLay, Victoria Frede-Montemayor, Gregory Freidin, David Hollinger, Sergei Ivanov, Joseph Kellner, Joachim Klein, Thomas Laqueur, Olga Matich, Elizabeth McGuire, Eric Naiman, Benjamin Nathans, Anne Nesbet, Joy Neumeyer, Daniel Orlovsky, Irina Paperno, Ethan Pollock, Hank Reichman, Irwin Scheiner, James Vernon, Mirjam Voerkelius, Edward W. Walker, Amir Weiner, Katherine Zubovich, and all the members of the Berkeley Russian History Reading Group (kruzhok).
Jon Gjerde kept asking me how I would go about writing this book until I decided to go ahead and write it; Reggie Zelnik would have noticed the presence of a character who never lived in the House of Government; Brigitta van Rheinberg never wavered in her enthusiasm and helped reshape and rethink the manuscript; Chris Ferrante, Beth Gianfagna, Dimitri Karetnikov, and Terri O’Prey turned the manuscript into The House of Government; and Zoë Pagnamenta showed me what a good agent can do.
My greatest debt is to the women who created the House on the Embankment Museum and invited me in: the late Elena Ivanovna Perepechko, Tamara Andreevna Ter-Egiazarian, and Viktoria Borisovna Volina, and my very special teachers and friends Inna Nikolaevna Lobanova, Tatiana Ivanovna Shmidt, and Olga Romanovna Trifonova. This book is for them.
Finally, reciprocity is inversely related to intimacy. A stranger’s favor must be returned promptly; a close friend can wait twenty years for a book to get written; all happy families are happy in the same way because they lie outside the cycle of fair exchange. Which is the reason I do not have to thank Peter Slezkine and Lisa Little for their contribution to the writing of this book.