Witzenrath, Christoph. Rosslyn, Wendy. Makolkin, Anna. Russian Empire: Space, People, Power, — Hedda, Jennifer. Aust, Martin and Ludwig Steindorff, eds. Russland Perspektiven auf die erste Russische Revolution. Finkel, Stuart. Cienciala, Anna M. Lebedeva, and Wojciech Materski, eds. Butler, Susan ed. My Dear Mr. Roosevelt and Joseph V. Boeckh, Katrin.
Yourieff, Alexandra Andreeva Voronine, with W. George Yourieff and Kirsten A.
Translated by Kirsten A. Reese, Roger R. Sherlock, Thomas. S ocial S cience , C ontemporary R ussia, and O ther. Etkind, Aleksandr and Pavel Lysakov, eds. Kul'tural'nye issledovaniia: Sbornik nauchnykh rabot. Nethercott, Frances. Smilov, Daniel and Jurij Toplak, eds. Fujimura, Clementine K.
Stoecker and Tatyana Sudakova. Volume 67 , Issue 4. If you do not receive an email within 10 minutes, your email address may not be registered, and you may need to create a new Wiley Online Library account. If the address matches an existing account you will receive an email with instructions to retrieve your username. Tools Request permission Export citation Add to favorites Track citation. Share Give access Share full text access.
Share full text access. Please review our Terms and Conditions of Use and check box below to share full-text version of article. Get access to the full version of this article. View access options below. You previously purchased this article through ReadCube. Institutional Login. From: phil. On dock in Thunderbolt handing boat over to Dave Block.
Going to Thunderbolt to meet Captain Block. Flat and calm. Of the split keyboard. Much easier to use this thing now. From: pablob comcast. Today we are doing boat and Raymarine Demos. She looks great! From: dp denisonyachtsales. A great crew and a fantastic boat. What a combination! Denison Yacht Sales is honored to be a part of this journey! From: FloridakeyZ aol. Sea turtles, dolphins, and whales playing in our wake.
This 34' Swift Trawler rides like a dream. From: c. We are headed to Annapolis now making 8. And coffee. Looks like another nice weather day! Very comfortable ride aboard The Greatest Loop. From: Lasessa gmail. From: jtelcik gmail. Getting a nice push from the gulf stream. Near perfect conditions. From: laycoinc msn.
It is showing you are moving at 17 knots. Next stop West Palm. From: robertscarcello gmail. How long do you think the boat will be available in Fort Lauderdale area? From: Flosprey bellsouth. From: terry tidewaterfarm. Brilliant way to introduce a new boat and to give us oldtimers a manageable goal. From: jfintland advfiltration. We should be in Daytona by the 9th or 10th. Let's plan to meet up! Call captain Alex Wilkes if you'd like to meet up! From: jbh20 comcast. From: kenritt yahoo. Will you be stopping in Daytona beach area? I would love to greet you guys here and ask many questions.
Best U.S. Travel Destinations images in | Travel advice, Travel Tips, Destinations
Ken -Ken. Best -Axel. From: res. I am havnig trouble getting a good handle on the layout. From: matthewhebert mac. Hope you're having a great trip so far. Just interested to know what you use to track weather on the boat? Or what method. Beautiful trip! Time to clean her up and get her ready for a photo shoot and Denison Yacht Sales event.
This key is a must see during the loop! From: aarondewinter comcast. How very cool. I will be following the rest of ur journey. What a beautiful resort! Headed up to Biscayne Bay. From: somewhereinthesun gmail. How's the weather in Hawks Cay? This place is amazing and everyone has been so great. Prepping for our trip to Miami Beach tomorrow. From: dandineen aol. Why is that? Is it normal? From: atp hotmail.
The natives ask that you please remember to put your pants back on when you get into port. Back under way. Weather is still gorgeous! Met some great people in Key West! From: chris ensingproperties. Very excited for our journey along the East Coast of Florida. From: fry. From: asatterwhite sbcglobal. I like ur vessel. Be safe -Alan. From: smurray murrayyachtsales. From: johngalloway me. Petersburg very soon after getting there. We are now back in the waterway passing Captiva Island. From: km5gn mac. Would love to see the boat.
Petersburg at 1. I see you are now in St. Petersburg; come by the Tampa Yacht Club, an hour away as my guest if you wish. From: pamela. Best wishes to you all from all of us at Cummins Power South. Petersburg, Florida. See chart. What ports on the loop would you like to spend more time at? Thanks -Matt. From: carsonhaddow gmail. Really jealous of your awesome trip. Flat water with dolphins feeding while we circle. Nasty storm line south delayed departure. Slow ride through the channel with dolphin escort.
From: hjevansiii yahoo. From: jopie sailorswharf. Great night at anchor on Dog Island. Joe to Apalachicola. Perfect day. Ed Wall took good care of us. Lumpy but the boat handles it well. From: jpotts aol. The route is long. Where will you be getting off? We are heading South or at least SE at first light.
Stop by for the fireworks tonight and take a tour. From: steveginaday bellsouth. Andrew's Bay cruising comfortably at Windshield wipers chirping time A narrow inland section of the intercostal waterway. Stay tuned for tonight's toast to the USA! It tastes just right docked in the rain. From: Dennis deisinger. I'll be following the rest of the trip. Safe travels. Dennis -Dennis. From: nick. Keep up the great work and keep having fun. From: jlilly16 cox. We are looking forward to going for a ride in the morning! Jim and Sarah -Jim. They are Installing a data logger on the main engine.
From: bryan. Not a bad way to spend a Monday workday. Great info for my planned loop trip spring ' What's the av fuel cost per gal? Good luck. From: Kathleenmramsey gmail. Please have a bushwacker for me at the open house in Pensacola this evening. From: beneteau thegreatestloop. Nice blue waters in Terry Cove? Enjoy the ride! Many more to come Breakfast tours at am. Heading south towards Mobile Bay.
From: ymignot56 sfr. Bonne route. Yves -Yves. Hope to cruise with you soon. Thank you so much -Axel. I could visualize what was out there: a great deal in communication with nice pictures and use of InReach Thank you for all the detailed updates. All of us at the office felt like we were with you guys. A Bientot, Capt. I want to thank everyone for following our adventure, Maryline of Beneteau for placing her confidence in me,. Fair winds and calm seas, amigos, and thanks for following our adventures. Jeremy has put together a safe, enjoyable cruise, and we're on a plane for Annapolis tomorrow.
We're looking forward to tracking Stanton Murray and his. It's the kind of relaxed place where boatwear is the norm, the food tends towards burgers, and the drinks menu. There's an outdoor bar and grill with its own sand beach at the end of this little hurricane hole,. The wind that generated the aforementioned chop has cooled things down in the harbor.
After a ride across a very choppy Mobile Bay, Capt. Jeremy and I are side-tied to. From: tstjohn gmail. Good talking to you John. It has Ben another hot day to run, but with the onset of this wind, which seems to be gusting between knots. The Greatest Loop is running easily. From: patrick annapolisyachtsales. Hope all is well and that you are enjoying this, probably the most intriguing part of the Loop! An incredible journey. Hope all is well in Annapolis!
From: witt. Can't wait to hear all about it. Be safe and enjoy the trip. Jeremy just added that the swimming bobcat was also a big surprise! You can give them a look at www. The total experience,. I find it all endlessly fascinating, and am glad to finally visit a. Jeremy said that he had no idea of what to expect in flora and fauna along the way, and it has surprised him to see so much thick, lush greenery.
Everyone should see our gorgeous country from the water-borne perspective! Should've looked before sending the previous message. From: charles. What has been your biggest surprise so far? Before long, they all took to the air with a grace almost indescribable, gliding to the safety of the lock. As we entered and got close, three or four took to the air in succession, seemingly choreographed. More unusual still were the 20 or more white egrets lined up on the. The wind and water noise on the flybridge can wear on you, and a break like this one is easy on the ears and eyes. We've slowed to 7.
Expect to arrive, to applauding crowds, late pm tomorrow. From: mgimmi1 gmail. Guess I did not get the whole program.
Tide out, street clear. Talk to you soon. Think I took your picture, and will post it if and when. Regrettably, none were fueling when we arrived, so we couldn't request a tour. Sure, it's a hot breeze in the afternoon, but we're thankful just the same. If you guessed Slow Roasted Crew, you are correct! Watch out! Safe journey folks. From: Whiteysfishcamp1 att. From: Message: Previous message cut short Did not know you had made it this far. We were on a 34 Americian Tug. Hope you had ti -Bill.
From: Wjyancey me. Had read about your cruise but did not -Bill Yanc. From: connerkip aol. Enjoy your adventure! Great stop, for sure! There is deep water all the way into the. It was a treat to get off the boat for dinner. T and his dock crew were. We ate a fine meal ashore at Hank's, where. Caldwell, marina manager, kindly took our lines, made reservations for us at a restaurant in town 5 miles away ,. It's another hot one, degrees, and hardly a cloud in the sky.
In the Soviet Union, the term intellektual carried negative connotations amongst the intelligentsia, describing a highly-educated, but erudite professional class, lacking the requisite moral characteristics of members of the intelligentsia; - 39 - however, I use it here to describe an educated group of people striving to gain access to higher education, whether through formal or informal means. As Soviet society began to transform during the period of glasnost and the dissolution of the Soviet Union, a rift occurred between those arguing that the time is ripe for the intelligentsia to fulfill its social role Nakhushev , and those who believed the intelligentsia no longer had a social function, or that it has altogether ceased to exist Gessen ; Ryvkina ; Sinyavsky As I have argued elsewhere Gan , it is misleading to ask whether the intelligentsia has remained relevant; this ignores shifting categories people often use to assert their belonging to an intellectual community.
However, following the collapse of the Soviet Union, the term also came to be used derisively. It signaled a collaborationist attitude with a foreign state power, a hypocritical, morally superior, holier-than-thou attitude, or the futile idealism of political opposition. Following the Revolution of , all the contributors to Vekhi, except for Gershenzon, were exiled from Bolshevik Russia. Thus, arguments about the role of the intelligentsia—a conciliatory intelligentsia seeking amnesty with the Bolsheviks, a democratically-oriented liberal intelligentsia, and an irredentist, reactionary group—became significantly more heated abroad than they were in Bolshevik Russia, which considered political opponents an ideological threat and which sought to consolidate its power by expelling or executing those who did not conform to the politics of the nascent regime Finkel According to Bourdieu, creative artists are conferred a certain degree of legitimacy by institutional authorities, such as schools or universities.
As Bourdieu argues, Every intellectual brings into his relations with other intellectuals a claim to cultural consecration or legitimacy which depends, for the form it takes and the grounds it quotes, on the position he [sic] occupies in the intellectual field. Such analysis is especially relevant in discussions of educated migrants who negotiate multiple identities Ong , pursuing diverse strategies in developing a shared discourse about their former homeland, raising the status of their community abroad, or struggling to have their diasporic rights recognized Smith This reverberates with another axiomatic statement by L.
I rarely took the subway. I found it liberating to propel myself on two wheels, feeling a rush careening over the Manhattan Bridge, or speeding past the bumper-to-bumper traffic along the Belt Driveway. Over the course of several weeks, I chronicled my routes on a map, which soon began to resemble an Etch-a-Sketch drawing Figure 1. I was proud of this map, showing a graphic representation of my able-bodied ambition. Then, something unexpected happened.
After a hefty bike ride to Manhattan, I came home feeling nauseous and slurring my speech. Two years later, I still feel the effects of a herniated disc, which leaves me exhausted at the end of each day. My mind is foggy, my disposition, aloof. I no longer feel like myself. Or, was it the concussion I received when I lost consciousness in the Moscow metro?
I feel that I have been uncertain about my perception for some time now, whether this is a side effect of various displacements, or the result of accumulated injuries. Changing environments, changing moods, memories change from day to day. I still carry loose change in a foreign currency in my pocket. I have become an unreliable narrator, failing to recognize myself in the text each time that I return to it. I feel an urgency to document what I can remember, to patch together my story, to legitimate its veracity by seeing it written, and to recover lost ground of an increasingly fragile identity.
I no longer rode a bicycle, but when I returned to Toronto following my fieldwork, I mapped long walks that I took with my dog Figure 2. Meanwhile, as she was conducting this research, her grandfather passed away in Miami, Florida. However, in an early account of the use of life history in anthropology, L. I approached research participants with questions related to specific periods of their lives, which they usually recounted in a chronological manner.
I asked about their upbringing and childhood experiences, their education and the start of their professional careers. In the same vein, I asked questions about how participants settled abroad. In asking participants about their migration journeys, or their first impressions upon their arrival abroad, I inevitably constructed questions out of the fabric of my own experience, trading in nostalgia and memories of the past.
How can anthropologists make evident a plurality of voices, which may even encompass the plural inner voices of the ethnographer? Therefore, in this dissertation, I combine my personal stories with the life stories of my research participants, straddling the methodologies of auto-ethnography and auto-biography through modes of self-reference and self-reflection, respectively.
Subsequent chapters examine my research sites Chapter Two and visual anthropology research methods Chapter Three. Chapters that follow investigate the intersections between mobility and material culture Chapter Four , explore how historical narratives about displacement resonate with present-day migrants Chapter Five , and examine how these narratives are negotiated between intellectuals and official state discourses both inside and outside Russia Chapters Five and Six. I begin to develop the theme of transnational migration in Chapter Two, by approaching the study of mobility experientially.
In my research, Moscow always served as a point of departure, allowing me to re-enact, albeit under very different circumstances, migration journeys undertaken by research participants through a variety of means, such as by airplane, train, bus, and automobile. I contextualize both these kinetic and static processes by asking research participants about their own migration journeys, and the places where they travel to, either through physical journeys, or in their imaginations.
I describe how I combined audio and video recordings of my interviews with impressionistic recordings of places to which I traveled, both of which I utilized to produce a multi-media installation titled Still Life with a Suitcase see Supplementary Materials, and Appendices A and B. I investigate how these recordings positioned me as a participant-observer carrying out a reflexive, ethnographic research project, and I also discuss how such methods permitted alternative modes of research dissemination. I explore the theme of material culture as it relates to the theme of personal dispossession in Chapter Four, where I analyze metaphors of changing cultural identity in new material and cultural environments, ontological security in light of tumultuous biographical change, and the process of integrating diverse experiences into a cohesive life narrative.
While I describe the process of moving places with things, I also investigate the process of narrativizing the lived experience of migration. In Chapter Five, I turn to archival research, focusing on the way intellectual discourses have historically reproduced Russian literary representations of migration, beginning with literary narratives that followed the Russian Revolution of Taking inspiration from this chance occurrence, I analyze how revolutionary intellectual discourses on exile, material privation and resistance to the state, have remained relevant amongst present-day Russian migrants, but also how such discourses have become coopted by Russian state strategists.
Much has been said, and written, about Russian migration since the collapse of the Soviet Union. In this chapter, I examine how state administrators, literary figures, cultural commentators, and pundits promote historical pan-Slavic migrant discourses and how Russian policy-makers position themselves in relation to neighbouring nation-states. I argue that current state strategies produce polarizing discourses that reflect an irredentist, primordial nationalism in a tense relationship with the outside Other Alexseev ; Schenk This chapter also explores how migrants abroad either denounce such polarizing discourses, or contribute to their production, negotiating their own identity and relationship with Russia.
I conclude this research project with a few final remarks on a dispersed, pluralistic and mobile identity of contemporary Russian migration. This was unusual for us, even extraordinary, since we often had incongruous goals for being in the city: I came to aimlessly wander around, and usually on my own, while my grandmother came with a friend and a purpose: to hear a concert at the conservatory, or to visit an art gallery. We also walked at different paces, because as a nonagenarian, my grandmother has walked for over half a century longer than I have. Four generations of my family, including my great-great-grandparents, spent the better part of the last century living in a communal apartment in the city centre.
She now acknowledges she was deceived by state mythology of the time. We turned the corner from Mokhovaya to Vozdvizhenka street to come face to face with Leninka. It took me 30 minutes to get to work from here. I knew every stone, every crevice in this sidewalk. Lenin in Soviet times. I was born in June and lived here until My kindergarten was a short walk from my house, as was my school.
I would walk to the Khimkinskoe Vodokhranilishche, The Khimki Reservoir, with my great-aunt to feed ducks with stale white bread. Our most distinctive neighbourhood landmark used to be a cinema, before it was replaced by the Kaleydoskop shopping mall, which boasts a year-round indoor skating rink. There were other recollections, of course: a broken arm, earned while going down a homemade ice slide in my courtyard; my family glued to the TV while tanks crisscrossed Moscow, and various other impressions, supplanted by photographs, family stories, and research projects.
There is a boulevard lined with birches in front of our building. The bus stops at the corner, and the metro is nearby. The sidewalks, however, have been repaved. In a reflexive, personal project on the experience of displacement, I had to ask myself why I was so drawn to recreating my own migration journey, even if this journey was not going to take me directly to the places where I had once lived, or take me to them through circuitous routes and unfamiliar detours. I recognized that my personal experiences could not be disentangled from my impressions of the places to which I was traveling, so I decided to approach these places experientially.
I structure subsequent discussion around my sensory experiences of my field sites, my movements within and between them, and my encounters with research participants in each of them. Before I do this, however, I discuss my use of walking as a research method. Whether alone, or together with research participants, walking was central to how I experienced urban environments, criss-crossing each new city that I came to inhabit for as long as time permitted, and as far as my feet would carry me.
In the personal vignette above, my grandmother revealed how intimately her sense of identity was connected to the place she inhabited, when, many years after her resettlement, she shared her experience of loss of a familiar neighbourhood, much as I have, having moved abroad. Thus, people may not only re-appropriate their movement across space, but negotiate their lived history across time.
I propose that the narrative I present above is at least as important for what it articulates, as for what it leaves out. I have long suspected that my grandmother steers away from walking the city centre to safeguard memories of her past. Inversely, it is only by being absent from places that people remember them in the first place. Bonn is a small city situated along the Rhine River in western Germany, which used to serve as the capital of the Federal Republic, before it moved to Berlin following German re-unification.
Gregory: Did you register when you came here as well? Aleksandr: Yes, both me and my wife, who is pregnant at the moment. A very kind woman registered us. Of course, the topic of emigration, of migration, or of leaving Russia in protest, is very acute right now. In the last three years, there has been a vsplesk, a splash. A good friend tallied up how many of her Facebook friends left in the last half a year. She counted fifty-three. In the current situation in Russia, people do what they can to leave.
Academics try to find teaching jobs; journalists are switching to publishers abroad. It mostly resembles a kind of… existential journey, maybe. Cultural tourism. Moreover, a walk may not only provoke the sharing of personal details, as well as observations concerning social processes, but may also reveal more abstract existential concerns. To structure this circuitous journey, I map my fieldwork sites using three different interpretive routes: a sensory route, a spatial route, and a relational route. Here, I also describe my interaction with several key participants from each fieldwork site.
How many times a thousand times , drunk or hungover, have I walked through Moscow, from the north to the south, from the west to the limit, criss-crossing it and however else — and I have never seen the Kremlin. Already by mid-December, outsized Christmas tree ornaments decorate Manezh, a large outdoor square in front of the Kremlin, and kitschy Christmas stalls sell gifts for the occasion.
An outdoor photo gallery features women preparing pre-Revolutionary Christmas packages for soldiers at the front, and an overabundance of flashing, shimmering, twinkling, and cascading lights adorn trees, lampposts, and makeshift light tunnels in front of the Nikitskiye Gates, the Bol'shoy Theatre, and Tverskoy Boulevard. This year, the fireworks are a paid event. The fireworks are late, and people begin to murmur that this is a bad omen on which to start the new year. The temperatures hover in the low thirties. I feel my extremities going numb, my feet are frozen, and my moustache and beard have become heavy under the weight of icicles.
I remember how much this amazed me and my brother. It is difficult to get around Moscow in the winter. Snow rapidly accumulates in the northerly city, quickly turning to brown slush. Waiting at the bus stop, the wind pierces through layers of clothing that never seem sufficient. Street traffic slows to a crawl. Fireworks start with a jolt, and they are spectacular. They are accompanied by the gasps and cheers of the crowd, by the sound of bottles being uncorked, and by firecrackers that spill confetti onto the street.
Despite the extreme weather conditions, people are laughing and kissing each other. I travel to see friends. Heat from a candle under its branches, sets them in motion, spinning and making a chiming sound. At this time, and lagging six hours behind, my mom and grandmother must be preparing to join their friends in a tall condo with a view of the Toronto City Hall.
Despite my vehement protests, the TV usually blasts Russian estrada, pop tunes, on state-run Channel One, as we uncork bottles - 61 - and clink glasses to send off the Old Year and greet the New, and watch reruns of the fireworks display launched from the tops of the Kremlin towers. The quote that opens this section is taken from the opening lines of a novel by Venedikt Erofeyev, Moscow-Petushki. On one such failed journey, he arrives instead at the Kursk Train station and boards the train to a neighbouring town, Petushki. Thus, the novel positions the protagonist, who arrives to Moscow from Siberia, as a quintessential outsider Vlasov Another famous depiction of Moscow is represented in the film, I walk around Moscow The novel thus positions the protagonist not only as an outsider, but also as a - 62 - martyr of the Soviet regime.
Having never seen the Kremlin, the seat of Soviet power, the protagonist is free from its control. However, when he innocently brushes up against it, he is killed. In Moscow-Petushki, a walk takes on both existential and political dimensions. During Soviet times, the Kremlin assumed a semiotic function: as a signifier, it was a physical landmark, but as a signified, it represented Soviet power, punishing indifference, ignorance, and dissent.
Judging by its ubiquitous status as a Moscow landmark, it is worth questioning how much the Kremlin continues to structure and define expectations today. Time structured by repetition, by flow, by fatigue, by novelty; time which is felt only in moments of transition, where duration is only figured in retrospect: this is the time we know, as opposed the time which is told.
The immense richness of the network by which we feel time is a crucial part of the way we experience life. The Moscow Metro is the pride of many Muscovites.
It runs late into the night, operating frequently and efficiently. The metro makes manifest a conspicuously high number of menial jobs. Janitors push piles of sawdust across wide platforms; ticket vendors and escalator monitors, confined to glass booths, ensure people move through the system quickly. Petersburg in the summer of , I was struck by the conspicuous absence of police on city streets and inside the metro.
Since the Soviet era, freedom of movement, as well as the right to live in the city, was controlled by a propiska, a residency permit. Following the collapse of the Soviet Union, when Moscow became a hub for labour migrants from the former Soviet Republics, the propiska remained a way to control movement, and consequently, to restrict access to work permits, health care, and education. One of my participants, Anna Perchenok, who has lived in Berlin since , describes her return visits to Moscow: Anna Perchenok: We go to Moscow for two-three weeks a year.
It is very difficult. After Moscow, you need a dom otdykha, a health sanatorium. To get anywhere in Moscow, one needs an important resource: time. Distance traveled is often measured not so much through space, as through time; for Muscovites traveling by car or riding the metro, commute times may span hours. When giving directions, locals do not tell you the distance in metres, or in feet, but by the number of bus stops. The Metro is instructive in this sense: instead of counting down to the next train, the clocks on the platform count the number of minutes since a train has departed.
In present-day Russia, there are no longer lineups for basic goods, which may take hours, days, or even years. One could now buy time by giving a vzyatka, a bribe, or by hiring someone who will stand in line, photocopy requisite forms, or process documents in an accelerated fashion. In Moscow, time may not always flow in a linear fashion. Before the advent of online apps revealing the approximate location of the next bus, its arrival was estimated by the number of passengers waiting at the stop.
Before they were outlawed in , this was the case with marshrutki—semi-private vans that mirrored or extended existing bus networks—they left only as soon as they filled every seat with passengers. Moving inwards, along the tree-lined and monument-clad boulevards closest to the city centre, the Boulevard Ring provides Muscovites with another 10 In , a social movement called Obshchestvo Sinikh Vederok, the Blue Bucket Society, protested the arbitrariness of the blue emergency vehicle lighting used by civil servants trying to beat Moscow traffic.
The Kremlin, a medieval fortress, forms the final ring as a citadel for the seat of power of the current Russian President. I grew up here. Nikita is a student preparing to move to North America to pursue a professional degree. In Soviet discourses, being svoy, or nash, expressed a collective identity of being outside the Soviet system Yurchak It is a point of pride to be able to recount the history of heritage buildings, to give directions knowing the confusing numbering system of an apartment complex, or to use Soviet-era names when describing city streets.
A large part of my social and emotional ties remain here. We have our problems, our grudges, our negative factors. I feel there is a danger that living in a country with significantly better material conditions, I will lose this hvatka, these skills. Nikita takes pride in knowing how to navigate the city as a form of insider knowledge, as a marker of belonging. This form of knowledge is not only experiential and local, but becomes embodied in the cultural landscape as a posture and a skill. Passing the sculpture of a grieving mother—a symbol of the homeland—I walk flanked by rows of evenly-spaced poplar and birch trees.
On each side, two enormous red granite slabs, each bearing the emblem of a hammer and sickle, represent two furled flags. Underneath each, a soldier kneels, bowing his head. In the space of the main altar, there stands a monumental symbol of victory over fascism: a giant bronze statue of a Soviet soldier holding a child in one arm and shattering the swastika with his sword, held in the other.
The Brandenburg Gate, a maligned eighteenth century symbol of peace, is a monumental arch capped by a quadriga — a sculpture of a chariot with horses. At some point, its orientation must have changed, because it no longer welcomed visitors from Brandenburg, but faced inwards, into the city.
It served as a gateway for victorious German troops returning from France in , when a unified German nation was proclaimed inside the Hall of Mirrors in Versailles, and again as a parade ground for Nazi marches, replicated today by ultra-right-wing - 71 - anti-refugee rallies held by PEGIDA and AfD. The Berlin Wall remains visible in the form of long metal strips embedded in the pavement, and in commemorative plaques, monuments and public art displays. People would have gone on tours to see this with sombre faces.
But suddenly, along the No. When people come to Brezhnev and Honecker, they begin laughing and kissing each other. A rebuilt spiralling glass dome of the Reichstag, situated above parliamentary chambers, allows visitors to symbolically experience the primacy of people over their government, and the Brandenburg Gate serves as a backdrop for thousands of selfies, competing for space with organ grinders and street protests.
As John Borneman argues, during the Cold War, state policies of one ideological side were provoked by its opponents, and vice-versa Borneman Alexanderplatz, where the tower stands, has several other uncanny symbols that underlined the melancholic irony of a city walled off from its neighbours: a World Clock and a Fountain of International Friendship. Traces of East Berlin are also recognizable in blocks of Soviet-inspired panel high-rises, and in intrepid socialist-realist monuments to Soviet sacrifice during the Second World War, erected while the city still lay in ruins.
Any description of the public memory of West Berlin requires a more conscious process of defamiliarization, since following re-unification, Germany largely adopted policies of the Federal Republic, such as the Grundesetz, the Basic Law, and its currency, the West German mark. Such ambiguities remain the most apt metaphors for present-day Berlin, a city ambivalent in its relationship with the past, and rushing headlong towards an uncertain future. Research participants underscore such ambiguities by comparing the present-day resurgence of extremist social movements in Germany and Russia with historical processes of denazification and destalinization.
During our conversation, political scientist and journalist Aleksandr Morozov discusses confrontations between democratic and extremist forces in post-War Germany and in post-Soviet Russia: Aleksandr Morozov: Today, we bear witness to the fact that twenty-five years went by, but Russian society cannot resist a kind of neo-Stalinism.
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I compare this to Germany. Two decades after Nazism, Germany also faced extreme right-wingers, as well as RAF and the ultra-left, who believed that the emergent system was too similar to Nazism. There was a strong confrontation, but German society overcame it because of the efforts of social and Christian democrats and political philosophers.
But it was a historically difficult question. It - 74 - is a city replete with clashing symbols: from memorials that signal the Nazi erasure of Jewish history, to Soviet monuments that glorify Soviet resistance against it, competing with post-reunification monuments that vilify the Soviet occupation, which are, in turn, converted into commercial artscapes. I am told I am lucky to have an Anmeldung, a Berlin residency, which is notoriously difficult to get. A plaque on the top floor of the five-storey building cites a law prohibiting the use of gas lanterns. We recreate a historic journey across the Bornholmer Bridge, where on November 9, , at pm, the East German commander yielded to the crowds flooding the checkpoint: East Berliners crossed to meet West Berliners, who waited for them with flowers and champagne.
In the winters, we heat our apartment with coal we haul in kilo bundles from the cellar. I am warned not to store my electronic equipment in the same room, because it will get damaged by coal dust. Two years later, management will pressure us to replace the ceramic coal stove with modern gas heating. Renovating our apartment was like conducting everyday archaeology. A new fridge replaced the hole in the window sill.
As we peeled the wallpaper underneath the wood, we discovered layers of twenty-, then forty-year-old newspapers. When we tackled the floor, we ripped up shaggy carpeting, uncovering a layer of neon laminate. Underneath this, there were more laminate floors, featuring pastel-coloured mid-century modern designs. We peeled layers of domestic history, of family life, and replaced them with our own coatings of comfort and coziness.
I felt little lament for taking over from the old tenant, a former police officer in West Berlin; in the storage space, I found a knife with an emblazoned swastika. After weeks of work, the apartment finally stood empty of equipment and paint supplies. Our floors were sanded and varnished, our walls were spackled and painted, and the apartment waited only to be occupied.
With no elevators, I count four floors, eighty-one steps down from the old apartment, and three floors, sixty-four steps, up to the new. Our collection of things is more or less organized: boxes of kitchen utensils, dishes, clothes, bags, belts, binders, books. Four of us carry the couch and the vintage hutch, eighty-one steps down; the laundry machine, the book shelves, sixty-four steps up. We return the rented van when it is already dark and our muscles feel wobbly, and treat ourselves to Chinese food. Overtired and underslept, we come home, sixty-four steps up, and fire up the coal stove.
A feeling of calm serenity sweeps over us. I first set foot in Berlin during a five-hour train layover I had while traveling between Brussels and Moscow. My train arrived in the middle of the night, and from Hautpbahnhof, the main railway station, I walked along the winding Spree, which reflected the utopian geometry of the Bundestag. I stood alone under the arches to the Brandenburg Gate.
I then walked towards - 76 - the towering high-rises of Potsdamer Platz, a self-proclaimed symbol of a re-unified Germany, but was stopped short by a structure of evenly-spaced concrete slabs, which occupied an entire city block. This was the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. When I entered the monument, the slabs were level with my knees, but they soon rose to my waist and then my head.
As I descended further and further down, they began to tower above me, and I felt overcome with terror. The void left by the erasure of Jewish culture was reflected in the construction of buildings and memorials that amplified erasures, absences, and traces. The linear historical narrative of the city has been broken, reflecting an ambiguous trajectory made up of fragments and absences.
However, it can be argued that there has never - 77 - been a successful linear rendering of a city. The people on the street seem desperately isolated, each one at a great distance from the next, all alone in the midst of a broad stretch of street. Les affaires sont les affaires. Nightlife already during the day. Most multifaceted promenade. It can be argued that the city, any city, is a place rife with diverse interpretations, absences, fragments, and ambiguities. They have their own little Russian Berlin. Their Charlottengrad. Sonja Margolina: Now, in Berlin, there are officially , Russians.
This is more than at the peak of the emigrant movement.
These lines reflect very different perceptions of the historically-situated presence of Russian migrants in Berlin. The Second World War left a tremendous mark on the city, owing both to the human victims of a fanatical racialist doctrine of the Third Reich, and the destructive power of Allied bombings. Topographically, everything is different here. A wide range of people escaped Bolshevik Russia, including soldiers of the defeated White armies, representatives of exiled political parties, members of the aristocracy, landowners, merchants and the intelligentsia.
Sonja Margolina is a journalist and writer who came to West Berlin in She argues that post-Soviet migration is incomparable with the post-Revolutionary influx of Russian refugees: Sonja Margolina: For us, the ideal emigration is the one from the first generation. These people came for a better life, however they rationalized it for themselves.
As Sveta Roberman argues, from that cohort of migrants, over , were Russian Jews, who, not unlike other groups, came in the pursuit of well-being for themselves and their families Roberman Both migrant groups faced barriers, negotiated new identities, and experienced various degrees of satisfaction in their personal and professional pursuits in Germany Roberman ; however, it is worth noting that they experienced Germany very differently one from another. When I started working here, this history got in the way, because it presupposes a certain regard, which I rejected.
An emigrant gaze. In time, I relativized these things for myself. As we walked the late-night-early-morning streets of the city, Zhenya and I talked, amongst other things, about the legacy of Russian writers in Berlin. The newspaper, Rul', the Helm, represented the democratic Cadet Movement. In a tragic confrontation with political radicals, Vladimir Dmitrievich Nabokov was murdered in Berlin in He is buried in the Russian cemetery in Tegel, which, allegorically, may be the most tangible remnant of post-Revolutionary Russian presence in Berlin.
Then, there are people who negate all this. They live in their own circle, and this circle remains the same for years. They bring their own little Russia [or other countries] over here, and it becomes a closed world. A small, parallel one. Zhenya argues that the Russian literary history provides a link to the past, transcending the insular nature of diasporic community. As a painter, he evolved in style from cubo-futurism to abstract expressionism, in tandem with the artistic trends of his time, which also meant that he continued living and working in Spandau during the Second World War.
He died in Germany of old age in The couple who arrived from Moscow to Berlin in already in their sixties, organize a monthly literary salon in their apartment. Their inspiration comes from Zelenaya Lampa, the Green Lamp, a turn-of-the-century salon organized in St. To date, Vadim and Anna published two anthologies inspired by these gatherings. When I returned nine years later, the town where I lived, which seemed so foundational to my life in Canada—I spoke French, attended a French immersion school, and occasionally bragged about having lived in France—appeared drab and provincial.
And Paris? That Paris of magical childhood impressions, of stairway climbs up the Eiffel Tower, and boat rides on the Seine, had been seemingly swapped by a city of long lineups to overcrowded tourist attractions and expensive tchotchkes. Sometimes it is chronological space; a space which includes memories. I felt a cognitive dissonance experiencing this place.