Free Secondhand Time: The Last of the Soviets by Svetlana Alexievich

crazy ideal…a fantasy…There’s no way our people are going to trade in their faded foreign currency and passports with Schengen visas for Soviet socialism. But that’s not what I believe in, anyway. I think humanity is headed toward socialism. Toward justice. There is no other way. Look at Germany, France…There’s the Swedish model. What values does Russian capitalism espouse? Hating the underdogs, the people who haven’t made millions and don’t drive Mercedes. Instead of the red flag, it’s Christ is risen! And the cult of consumerism…People don’t fall asleep thinking of anything lofty, instead they mull over how they didn’t buy this or get that. Do you really think that this country fell apart because people learned the truth about the gulag? That’s what people who write books think. People…Regular people don’t care about history, they’re concerned with simpler things: falling in love, getting married, having kids. Building a house. Our country fell apart from the deficit of women’s boots and toilet paper, because of the fact that there were no oranges. It was those goddamn blue jeans! Today, the shops resemble museums. Theaters. And people want me to believe that rags from Versace and Armani are all that a person needs. That they’re enough. That life is nothing but pyramid schemes and promissory notes. That freedom is money and money is freedom. While our lives aren’t worth a kopeck. Well, and…well, and…you know…I can’t even find the words…I feel sorry for my little granddaughters. I pity them. That’s what gets beaten into their heads every day on TV. I don’t agree with it. I was and remain a communist.
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    We take a short break. The eternal tea, this time with the hostess’s homemade cherry jam.
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    It was 1989…By then, I was the third secretary of the district Party committee. I was recruited to work in the Party from the school where I’d taught Russian language and literature. My favorite writers, Tolstoy, Chekhov…When they first offered me the job, I was intimidated. What a huge responsibility! But I didn’t hesitate for a moment, I had a real burst of desire to serve the Party. That summer, I went home for the holiday…I don’t usually wear jewelry, but I had bought myself this cheap necklace. When she saw me, my mother exclaimed, “You look like a Tsaritsa.” She was so impressed—and it wasn’t the necklace that impressed her! My father said, “None of us will ever come asking you for favors. You need to have a clean conscience before the people.” My parents were so proud! So happy! And I…I…What did I feel? Did I believe in the Party? To tell you the truth, I did. And I still do. Come what may, I will never throw out my Party membership card. Did I believe in communism? I’ll be honest with you, I’m not going to lie: I believed in the possibility of life being governed fairly. And today…as I’ve already told you…I still believe in that. I’m sick of hearing about how bad life was under socialism. I’m proud of the Soviet era! It wasn’t “the good life,” but it was regular life. We had love and friendship…dresses and shoes…People hungrily listened to writers and actors, which they don’t do anymore. The stadium poets have been replaced by psychics and magicians. People believe in sorcerers, just like in Africa. Our Soviet life…you could say that it was an attempt at creating an alternative civilization. If you want to put it in dramatic terms…The power of the people! I can’t calm down about it! Where are you going to see a Metro station devoted to dairymaids, lathe operators, or engine drivers today? They’re nowhere to be seen—they’re not in the newspaper, they’re not on TV, and they’re nowhere near the Kremlin when they’re handing out medals and awards. They’re not anywhere anymore. Everywhere you look, you see our new heroes: bankers and businessmen, models and prostitutes…managers…The young can