Konrad and Alexandra (PDF) - Rolf Gross

might explode in laughter instead of getting excited."Blushing, he said. "I have searched the locked shelves of my father’s library. There is French and English pornography,curiously none in German. French are the often cited but rarely read classics, Marquis de Sade, Jean-JacquesRousseau. They are, if you wish catholic, engaged in an ideological warfare against the morality of the church and theirsociety. That is the reason why in French pornography sex is bizarre, kinky, and perverted: chains, leather, sodomy,beatings, and the complete subjugation of the woman. By comparison English pornography often has an exotic backdropin India or Africa and is—forgive my expression—flat-footed, red-faced fuck. But the surprise is the sheer volume ofEnglish pornography, it effortlessly exceeds that of the French."Alexandra shrugged. "Now that you have decided on an exotic Georgian setting, how about a defloration of a radicalSocialist Svani princess in the ice fields of Ushba? You would shock the romantic, Russian intelligentsia. But you alsomight find a Georgian knife in your chest, if her relatives ever found out who the author was."Vladimir blushed crimson.Alexandra laughed. "Ah, I see, you have thought of this already!"Red-faced, Vladimir admitted sheepishly. "Bear in mind, the last princess of Svaneti is very passionate, but innocent insuch matters."Alexandra looked at him mockingly and changed to English. "Look darling, I am afraid you are too innocent in suchmatters. Where is your imagination?" She continuing in Zinaïda Gippius’ voice. "Maybe this third-rate poet needs an affairwith Anna Karenina…if she would only let him."50.Konrad studies Chinese1907Konrad had grown increasingly irritable. He felt bored. The daily routine of teaching two courses at the university and aseminar at the institute was interrupted only by endless faculty meetings and an occasional chat with a colleague. Athome Vladimir’s visits were predictable, literary rumors, his problems with Tamara, or his attempts at writing. Alexandrawas kept busy at her practice by a growing number of new patients, many young women, students, mistresses, writers,musicians, and artists. Often interesting people, but Alexandra never brought her patients home. Elisabeth ran theroutine household affairs. Alexandra prepared breakfast and dinner. At night they shared reading or playing with thechildren.Konrad had become a family man, his greatest joy was reading to Otto. Last year they had read parts of Marco Polo’stravels. With glowing eyes Otto had listened to the fabulous cities Polo visited along his way to Mongolia. Now Otto readby himself Schwab’s Illustrated Greek Myths, a copy Konrad had owned as a child.On weekends they went riding together, he and Otto, who now had his own three-quarterhorse stabled in Lakhta. Heloved these rides. Alexandra, with this excuse or that, stayed away from their father-son excursions.It was not only their relationship that drifted self-absorbedly through the days and months. Since Stolypin’s draconiansuppression of revolutionary elements, St. Petersburg had sunk into a lazy life of dissipation: affairs, literary intrigues,duels, plays, ballets, and operas. The intelligentsia was ensconced in comfortable bourgeoise apartments, dachas, andcountry houses. More and more people spent their vacations in Western Europe or on the Crimean. The "revolutionary"scene had turned quiet, the censorship relaxed, no more strikes. The radical leaders languished in prisons, in Siberia orin exile. Despite the Tsar’s attempts at curtailing Parliament, which led to a quick succession of four Dumas, part ofWitte’s constitution had survived.By 1910 the world had become peaceful, satiated, and complacent.It came as a welcome relief to Konrad when George Dadiani decided instead of taking the train directly to China, to makea detour on the Transbaikal railway through Central Asia via Samarkand and Tashkent. They would go during the late falland winter of 1911, when Central Asia and Southern China would not be so hot.Konrad’s heart jumped. Since his childhood reading of Marco Polo’s adventures, Samarkand and Tashkent were evenmore colorful dreams of his than China.Alexandra encouraged him. "Maybe you can visit Shakh-i-Zabz and see the last ivan of Tamerlan’s Aq Sarai," shesuggested. "God, where are Izabel and Marti hiding? What do you think, I will invite Niko and Claudia for part for the timeyou are away. I long to see them, and they will be good company."Konrad was relieved. He threw himself headlong into Chinese.158