Konrad and Alexandra (pdf) - Rolf Gross

that no publisher would touch the manuscript for fear of being prosecuted as purveyor of
blasphemous and pornographic literature. I fared no better with the Russian linguists whom I
showed it to. They would gloat over it with large eyes, laugh maliciously, and suggest to hide
the text well from His Majesty’s Secret Service."
She looked at Ilia with a challenging smile. "The manuscript languished in one of my
chests until a few years ago. Encouraged by Ilia’s national Georgian campaign, I offered it to
this cousin over there for publication in Iveria. He never read it, he just held up his hands
saying that the Ochrana would put him into jail if he would touch this manuscript."
Ilia winced and lowered his eyes, but did not contest her words. Irakli had slowly
recovered his composure. Absentmindedly Deda ate few pieces of the marvelous lamb. Olga
passed her the plate with the aubergine puree, and they devoted themselves to the food for a
while.
Eventually Deda resumed her report. "Because the original was more than three hours
long, I finally staged a shortened version with Persephone’s help in Zedazeni five years ago. I
am afraid dear Irakli has never fully forgiven me this act of defiance against the patriarchal
order of the land. I chose Zedazeni, because it is hard to get to and because of the phallic post
in its choir, which the women from the villages decorate every week."
She tossed her head and her hair came undone. "The play was not a success. I guess
more because of fear than its actual content the Tiflis elite has denied its existence and
ostracized me ever since. But as you saw for yourself, it has had a sensational success among
the less sensitive, less educated Georgians. They love it and come from far and wide to see it
every Easter. It quite simply has become a true Georgian mystery play, which I am proud of. I
will not let my shepherds down, no matter how much I upset the good citizens of Tiflis!"
A tense silence settled over the table. Konrad watched with curiosity. He had never
heard Tamunia-Deda speak with such purposeful courage. He risked a glance at Alexandra.
She was glowing in admiration of her mother. Irakli was brooding in his shell. It would be up to
Ilia as the tamada to break the ice.
Ilia rose, lifted his glass to Tamara and very seriously said, "To the unquenchable spirit
of my beloved cousin!" Trying to put meaning into this cliché he continued, "May you persevere
in your courageous attempts to enlighten our Georgian peasants. I am sorry that we men are
still powerless to help you find the recognition your discovery deserves."
Konrad, red-faced, had to control himself not to make a cutting remark at this
shamelessly stupid toast.
"Please, Konrad," Tamara said, "don’t get discouraged. All this night I prayed that you
would break this terrifying, old ice that covers my family life."
Konrad pulled himself together, swallowed his anger, and related the happenings at
Zedazeni without being interrupted. He concealed nothing—not even Demeters obscene
movements on the phallus and the bloody cloth from which she had risen.
Ilia kept quiet, he had no more boisterous outbreaks of sarcasm. Irakli sat in grave
silence. The play had become a test of their devotion to this woman, and Konrad was well
aware of his role as arbiter and judge.
When Konrad ended, Ilia made no use of his right as tamada, and Konrad simply
continued to explain what he thought he knew about the pre-Christian sources of the play.
"The original manuscript and a usable translation should be published some day. Our
knowledge about the Greek mysteries is so sketchy that this late Greek-Christian hybrid would
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