“Truth is a dangerous thing. Most people don’t like it.” – The Genius Under the Table
The Russian invasion of Ukraine has created an unfortunate backlash against some of Russia’s most distinguished citizens, athletes, and artists who have been banned from major competitions, from Wimbledon to the Paralympics to the Cannes Film Festival, for the mere misfortune of being Russian. While there has been an immediate show of support for Ukrainians from the West, there is a disturbing disdain for Russian civilians, who hold no power over the whims of their erratic leader.
Vladimir Putin, Russia’s perpetual president, has made no secret of his wish to return the Soviet Union to the heydays of his youth, calling its demise, “the greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the century.” Instead, he has stymied any effort from NATO to extend its membership to former Soviet bloc countries. Believing the West is manipulating Ukraine to the detriment of Russia, paranoid Putin feels the need to intervene and free them from the wanton control of his enemies. And as China continues to deny Taiwan’s existence as its own country, Putin has made the same denials about Ukraine. Lamenting the loss of Russian influence, Putin hopes to return his land to its rightful place in the world.
In Eugene Yelchin’s 2021 pseudo-memoir, “A Genius Under the Table”, Yelchin relives his unusual childhood in the Soviet Union. Born in a country that bestows exclusive benefits on citizens with special talents, comrades, like ballet superstar Mikhail Baryshnikov, were able to use these advantages to escape the drudgery of the common laborer. Eugene (Yevgeny), reconciled to living his life without the benefits of such gifts, would unknowingly have his artistic talents discovered on the underside of his family’s dinner table. When on one special evening his father, looking under the tablecloth, discovered that his second son had created his own Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel, through drawings depicting his family and friends.
The Yelchin household lived like most common proletariats in a communal settlement, with their entire extended family residing in a single room that doubled as a family room by day and sleeping quarters at night. And unlike the upscale studio living of sporty singles in America today, there was little privacy, with the kitchen and bathroom shared with every other family in the unit. Separate bathhouses, scattered across the city, provided group bathing for those special occasions.
Fear was common within both the family and the community, with talk of past historical events discouraged. Whispers about Baryshnikov’s defection, and their continual concerns of running afoul of rules, were often mumbled but never directly stated. And certainly not openly, as government spies were stationed in every building, encouraged to rat on anyone who spoke out of line or expressed unacceptable opinions of the regime. This quickly led to an understanding that not only was it best to speak little, but avoiding the truth made life more bearable.
Americans were another hushed topic in curious households. Seen in their vibrant clothes at local tourist attractions, these foreign travelers piqued the interest of a certain class of Soviets and banned themselves from traveling abroad. Receiving occasional gifts of American goods, like blue jeans, and rock and roll music, was a special treat as these items were largely unavailable. Soviet propaganda about high unemployment and poverty in America seemed not to square with the cheerful vacationers they occasioned to meet on the street. Or the preposterous claims of increasing living standards in Mother Russia that were grossly incompatible with their own experiences.
It has now been 30 years since the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, following a failing economy weakened by communist policies, ongoing war, and overall demoralization of its citizens. While much of the Soviet intimidation tactics are gone, residual fears remain, especially towards their authoritarian ruler. Yelchin would escape his misfortune in the 1980s before his country fell. Unfortunately, the lasting effects of the collectivist mindset remain for far too many Russians today.
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