• Українська
  • Русский
  • English
Where there is no law, but every man does what is right in his own eyes, there is the least of real liberty
Henry M. Robert

The Night before Christmas

19 January, 1999 - 00:00

By Klara GUDZYK, The Day
Strange things happen in this world, especially before the Christmas holidays.

The event that took place on that particular occasion once again proved
that history goes in circles. The Good Book reads, "The thing that hath
been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall
be done: and there is no new thing under the sun." Nikolai Gogol once composed
a story about fantastic events that occurred over two centuries ago, under
Catherine II. Inconceivably, hundreds of years later, in an entirely different
epoch, Vakula, the witch's son, together with Zaporizhzhian Cossacks, relived
his old adventure.

This is what actually happened. Once again the Cossacks were preparing
to visit the imperial capital to reaffirm their loyalty and sign new treaties.
The envoys were hand-picked, for they would talk things over with the Empress.
Before the visit the Cossacks put on their best clothes, new coats and
mantles, along with colorful belts. They also took a quick refresher course
in Russian to rid their speech of its "Little Russian" expressions as much
as possible. They had to show they were no hayseeds. The more so that they
were promised a top level reception at the royal palace. The Cossacks considered
this a great but deserved honor; hadn't they fought the infidels to protect
the empire and withstood their severe counterblows?

The trip was a long one as they rode in horse-drawn wagons. Vakula joined
the caravan as it was approaching the capital. He flew astride a devil
(or a jet liner, to use the modern terminology). The Cossacks entered the
palace, bowed in all directions and remained standing in a compact group,
not knowing where to look, because everything around them shone and that
was practically all they could see. After a while they collected themselves
and noticed that there were no one in the big hall except they and servants.
Belatedly they realized that they had wasted their courtesies on retainers.
Was that the top-level reception they had been promised? But then the Empress
appeared with her entourage. The Cossacks prostrated themselves on the
rich parquet floor and shouted, "Have mercy on us!" This was a blatant
breach of protocol. The valets rushed over and tried to lift the Cossacks
to their feet. In vain! They remained on the shining floor, shouting, "We
shan't rise, Mother, we shan't! We shall die first!" The handsome blacksmith
Vakula aggravated the situation. Without rising from the floor he managed
to kiss the Empress' shoes and begged for a "common information space"
(he wanted it as a present for his beloved concubine awaiting him at home;
she was the extremely demanding type). Even the battle-hardened Prince
Potemkin was embarrassed and pushed the blacksmith away with one of his
shining boots. The Empress, however, showed no anger and even said, "I
like this naivetО ." She then turned to a well-known writer who was also
present and ordered him to compose a comedy using this episode for the
court drama company, to which the man humbly remarked that this would require
someone with La Fontaine's talent.

To spare the reader further tedious details, I will say only that the
treaties the Cossacks brought from Little Russia made no dramatic change
in their national history, perhaps because the negotiating process was
complicated by their prone position.

Future historians will have a hard time telling apart such kindred events
from the eighteenth and twentieth centuries. However, the task may be easier
if they bear in mind that the former Cossacks wore sharovary, traditional
loose trousers tight at the ankles, while their later epigones sported
faultlessly pressed pants. One would be interested to know what our Cossack
posterity will wear next time history comes full circle.

 

(Almost according to Nikolai Gogol)
Issue: 
Rubric: