Оглавление
Emma Goldman. My Disillusionment in Russia
My Disillusionment in Russia
Table of Contents
PREFACE
Footnote
CHAPTER I DEPORTATION TO RUSSIA
CHAPTER II PETROGRAD
CHAPTER III DISTURBING THOUGHTS
CHAPTER IV MOSCOW: FIRST IMPRESSIONS
CHAPTER V MEETING PEOPLE
Footnote
CHAPTER VI PREPARING FOR AMERICAN DEPORTEES
CHAPTER VII REST HOMES FOR WORKERS
CHAPTER VIII THE FIRST OF MAY IN PETROGRAD
CHAPTER IX INDUSTRIAL MILITARIZATION
CHAPTER X THE BRITISH LABOUR MISSION
CHAPTER XI A VISIT FROM THE UKRAINA
CHAPTER XII BENEATH THE SURFACE
CHAPTER XIII JOINING THE MUSEUM OF THE REVOLUTION
CHAPTER XIV PETROPAVLOVSK AND SCHLÜSSELBURG
CHAPTER XV THE TRADE UNIONS
CHAPTER XVI MARIA SPIRIDONOVA
CHAPTER XVII ANOTHER VISIT TO PETER KROPOTKIN
CHAPTER XVIII EN ROUTE
CHAPTER XIX IN KHARKOV
CHAPTER XX POLTAVA
CHAPTER XXI KIEV
Отрывок из книги
Emma Goldman
Published by Good Press, 2021
.....
It was a cold day, with the earth a sheet of white, but spring was in our hearts. Soon we were to behold revolutionary Russia. I preferred to be alone when I touched the sacred soil: my exaltation was too great, and I feared I might not be able to control my emotion. When I reached Beloöstrov the first enthusiastic reception tendered the refugees was over, but the place was still surcharged with intensity of feeling. I could sense the awe and humility of our group who, treated like felons in the United States, were here received as dear brothers and comrades and welcomed by the Red soldiers, the liberators of Russia.
From Beloöstrov we were driven to the village where another reception had been prepared: A dark hall filled to suffocation, the platform lit up by tallow candles, a huge red flag, on the stage a group of women in black nuns' attire. I stood as in a dream in the breathless silence. Suddenly a voice rang out. It beat like metal on my ears and seemed uninspired, but it spoke of the great suffering of the Russian people and of the enemies of the Revolution. Others addressed the audience, but I was held by the women in black, their faces ghastly in the yellow light. Were these really nuns? Had the Revolution penetrated even the walls of superstition? Had the Red Dawn broken into the narrow lives of these ascetics? It all seemed strange, fascinating.
.....
