EDITH KURZWEIL
457
could lead to tolerance, but did not know how to bring it about quickly.
As we adjourned for coffee, the conversation continued-with tolerance
and honesty.
SINCE THAT
WAS
THE END of my professional obligations, I would be
able to gather my impressions of Moscow, a city I had known via
Pasternak and Tolstoy, and Napoleon's and Hitler's failed conquering
ambitions. Already on the way from the airport I had marveled at the
immense proportions, the width of roads, the ugliness of Stalinist hous–
ing, and the beauty of old buildings. Having a good driver and an
informed guide at my disposal faci litated getting around, as did Ivan
Tyulin's suggestions of gourmet restaurants (he was every bit as knowl–
edgeable as Ruth Reichl of the
New York Times).
I found myself eating
very well in places scattered throughout the center of Moscow, mostly
located in renovated buildings dating back to the Tsars, while aware
that when prices were listed in dollars it meant, also, that only the newly
rich, diplomats, and foreigners could afford, for instance, the Cafe
Pushkin-a four-year-old five-star establishment that was a perfect
replica of a seventeenth-century English pub-cum-library-cum-coffee
house. The dinner our host offered us that Monday evening compared
favorably to any restaurant in New York or Paris, though we drank
vodka and cranberry juice instead of wine.
On Tuesday, the presidential summit did interfere with our meander–
ings: traffic was slow, roads were closed, as was the Kremlin, but we did
walk around Red Square, went into the Novodevichy Convent, the
Pushkin and Tolstoy museums, and overlooked the city from the hill
upon which Stalin had built the Gothic skyscraper of Moscow Univer–
sity. I kept marveling at the profusion of monuments and churches. And
I was beginning to understand better the Russian academics' preoccu–
pation and wonderment about the upsurge of religion-which did seem
to replace the belief (or faked belief) in Marxism . All around town, men
and women outside as well as inside the many places of worship were
crossing themselves, kneeling and praying (often audibly) on church
steps. This did not seem to be due to socially inspired religion, but to
individual conviction. I noted as well that we were given the historical
background to every place we passed or visited and that the seventy
years of communist rule was skipped over, or referred to only fleetingly
in a denigrating fashion. A few statues of Lenin were pointed out, but
none of Stalin . That day ended with the most unforgettable, and perfect,
performance of Mussorgsky's
Boris Godunov
at the Bolshoi Theatre, by
a cast and orchestra that has been performing together for many years.
