The Agony and the Ecstasy

At first glance, the many stories in this month’s issue might seem to have little in common.

First, we have coverage of Russia’s best winter sport athletes – the Russian Olympic Team.

Then there are the three luminaries of Russian arts whose anniversaries all fell just before or in this month: Vladimir Vysotsky, Fyodor Shalyapin and Sergei Eisenstein.

And finally, we bring you the story of the town of Vladimir.

In fact, there is a common thread. Each story is about the triumph of talent and beauty amidst incredible adversity. Vladimir survived repeated fires and the centuries-long ravages of the Mongols to create (among other things) “perhaps the most perfect thing created by medieval Russian architecture.” Vysotsky, Shalyapin and Eisenstein each faced a level of artistic persecution and/or cultural exile that we in the West find hard to imagine, yet each reached the pinnacle of their art. And Russia’s athletes, having lost the “gravy train” of the Soviet Sport Machine, continue to train and be among the top in their sports. Indeed, the Russian Olympic Team won more golds than any other team at Lillehammer; whether they can do the same at Nagano remains to be seen.

Such a theme of human triumph is appropriate in this month where we celebrate the Winter Olympics. And certainly we Americans will be rooting for the triumph of our own part of humanity (especially the Vermont contingent) – the American Olympic Team. But surely Russophiles the world over cannot but root for the Russia team as well.

Which brings us to an interesting linguistic aside: the Russian for “to root for” in a sporting match, is болет за. The root of the verb болеть here means, of course, to suffer, to be in pain. Now the double meaning of this Russian phrase will surely not be lost on Chicago Cubs or Red Sox fans. But for the rest of our readers, the linkage be less obvious. As we who live in the North are fond of reminding ourselves in these dark, cold days of February, it is through suffering that success tastes the more sweet.

Not that we do or should wish adversity or suffering on anyone. But we should celebrate those who have triumphed over adversity. “The bravest sight in the world,” someone once wrote, “is to see a great man struggling against adversity.”

Enjoy the issue!