Better than Coffee?

Recently, on a recommendation, I picked up a copy of George Saunders’ book, The Braindead Megaphone. In the best traditions of  Mencken, Vonnegut and Twain, Saunders ruthlessly gores all responsible for the dumbing down of our culture, media and society. In a particularly strong indictment of the media – whose job, he correctly notes, is to simply tell compelling stories – he writes:

The best stories proceed from a mysterious truth-seeking impulse that narrative has when revised extensively; they are complex and baffling and ambiguous; they tend to make us slower to act, rather than quicker. They make us more humble, cause us to empathize with people we don’t know, because they help us imagine these people, and when we imagine them – if the storytelling is good enough – we imagine them as being, essentially, like us. If the story is poor, or has an agenda, if it comes out of a paucity of imagination or is rushed, we imagine those other people as essentially unlike us: unknowable, inscrutable, inconvertible.

No paragraph I have read in the past decade better summarizes what this magazine is all about. Or at least what we try to make it about.

It has always been a tough sell, convincing Americans (we do have non-American readers, but for logistical and financial reasons, they are in the distinct minority) to tune out mass media bombardments and spend a few hours every other month reading complex, baffling and ambiguous stories. The fact that our stories are about a country that has been America’s enemy for more years of the past century than not only makes the task more challenging.

Yet, year after year, over ten thousand Americans rise to the challenge and subscribe or resubscribe to Russian Life. So, in a season when one is inclined to reflect on the passing year, I want to personally thank you for continuing to welcome our “complex and baffling” stories into your home. 

On that note, given the dismal state of the economy, everyone is looking for ways to cut back. Some may even be tempted to consider Russian Life an “optional” or “discretionary” expenditure (perish the thought!). Yet, on the other side of the scale, I offer these counterweights:

• Now, more than ever, it is important to grapple with complex international issues.

• When you support Russian Life with your subscription, you support sustainable publishing. An authoritative source recently called Russian Life, “a green leader in the magazine industry.” Over the course of the last year, we have moved to printing on 100% recycled stock, with no increase in cost to readers.

• Russian Life subscription rates have not increased since 2002.

• We report, edit, photograph, and analyze all of Russia, designing, printing, and delivering to your mailbox six magazines (384 pages) a year for less than the cost of a monthly latte or movie rental. Or for less than nine cents a page. Most places, you can’t get a Xerox copy done for that.

• Reading is still one of the best, lost-cost entertainment values on the planet. 

Enough said. Time to get to the stories. In this issue, we assemble the 26 letters of our alphabet into words and sentences about bears, bunkers, ballet and balustrades, guaranteed to transport you to St. Petersburg and beyond. 

Sit back and enjoy the ride.