True happiness consisted of taking “personal pleasure” in the launching of the USSR-1 balloon: in loving all good Soviets as much as one’s close relatives and loving one’s close relatives to the degree that they were good Soviets. The adults, weighed down by sins voluntary and involuntary, might not be redeemed; their children were born pure and reared within the sect. The Soviet world of happiness was, like its Gorky Park reenactment, centered on childhood—because future Communism was designed for today’s children and because Communist redemption was, like the Christian kind, about becoming a child. As Tania wrote to her mother on October 23, 1933 (with her sister Lelia in mind),
Today I read an issue of the Literaturnaia gazeta [Literary gazette] devoted entirely to children’s books. Right now, kids are at the top of our country’s agenda, and I think that the Central Committee decision on children’s book publishing is, in its own way, no less significant than the flight of a high-altitude balloon. I am very happy that both Rada and Volia will still be children when this work gets fully under way, but still, it is absolutely imperative that both Lelia and I have one more child each: she, a girl, and I, a boy, so that they will be able to take full advantage of everything (that’s one of the reasons I wouldn’t mind getting out of the isolator sooner rather than later)…. I want our children to feel that they belong not only to our family, but also to the Soviet Republic. Last week was international children’s week. Did their school do anything special? (Oh, how happy I would be to be working at their school right now!) That’s why I would like Rada to spend next summer in a pioneer camp.35
She urged Rada (who was nine at the time) to read the latest appeal of the Central Committee of the Komsomol to young Octobrists, to prepare her home library for the national “inspection of the young Octobrist’s bookshelf,” and to work hard in order “to enter the broad arena of the organized Soviet child.” Her engagement seems to have been sincere, but it was up to the OGPU to decide, and, in early December 1933, the OGPU decided not to reconsider her case (originally prepared by Interrogator Rutkovsky in Moscow). As she wrote to Mikhail on December 30,
Apparently, they did not believe my application was sincere this time. I sometimes feel like writing a letter to a particular person (for example to Rutkovsky) instead of an official request. I think the opportunity to write not in the official style, but more freely would make it easier to express the sincerity of my thoughts and attitudes. I will write again, but I believe that it would be better to do it in two or three months so the matter can be reconsidered. Of course, my dear sweet Mikhailik, it is very hard for me to put it off for such a relatively long time and continue my life in this isolator apart from the real life, which keeps getting better and more amazing. I think that if I were in a concentration camp and if I were working, my true attitude toward the policies of the Party and my own past would become clear very soon…. So, my dear, this is my sad news. But don’t be sad, my love. I think—and really truly want to believe—that before long my case will change for the better. It can’t be otherwise. And so I’ll cheerfully wait for that time, while following from afar all the miracles you are performing in the USSR. I will leave here with an enormous reserve of energy and a slightly greater store of knowledge.36
There was more bad news: she had lost three teeth (in addition to the ones she had lost in Kazakhstan) and was having difficulty chewing. The two teeth that might still be used for a bridge were also in poor condition, but there was no gold to be had in the isolator, and the hope of being taken to Sverdlovsk or Moscow for dental work was slight, in any case. Her hair, on the other hand, had suddenly stopped falling out (just as she “had gotten used to the idea of becoming completely bald within six months”)—probably because of the arsenic and cod liver oil treatment that she had devised. But what she really wanted to talk about, she insisted, were the “happy subjects”: the triumph of the Communists at the Reichstag Fire Trial in Leipzig, the planned publication of the Large Soviet World Atlas, her desire to learn more about Trofim Lysenko’s “vernalization,” her reading of Das Kapital, and, on the home front, Mikhail taking Rada to Gorky Park to skate, Mikhail taking Rada to the Bolshoi to see The Barber of Seville, Mikhail and Rada reading The Jungle Book together, and Mikhail’s name being mentioned in the newspapers in connection with a meeting of the Central Executive Committee.37
Mikhail was very busy at work and in his Party cell. Tania was keenly interested (“Tell me more about your purge session. What theory questions did they ask you? I am dying of curiosity”)—but also understanding: “I won’t worry at all if you don’t write for some time. In general, I hope that during all these meetings you won’t be spending any of your physical or emotional energy on me. I regret having written to you about the rejection a while back. If I had only known that you hadn’t heard, I would never have done it. And please, my darling, try not to miss me too much—in spite of everything, I really am perfectly cheerful, and I trust and hope that we will see each other soon.”38 But it was hard to be perfectly cheerful—especially on New Year’s Eve:
It’s a beautiful, moonlit, snowy night! Such a perfect pale blue … Oh, to be walking around on such a night, making the snow squeak underfoot … But to be walking with you, dear Mikhailik…. I stayed up until midnight. For some reason this evening was especially sad, even though I enjoyed all sorts of pleasures: went to the bath house, washed my hair, put on a completely fresh set of clothes, but felt bad that I didn’t have my “Lily” or “Acacia” perfume; their fragrance brings back a lot of good memories…. And when I was all ready to “greet” the New Year, I sat down at my desk and read through several newspapers, then looked out the window at the pale-blue plains, thinking of all of you and knowing that you must be thinking of me—when the lights went out, which meant that it was midnight. So it’s now 1934 … What will it bring? I feel somewhat curious, and my breath catches a little when I think of all the good things it might bring … It is odd how you feel the flow of time so acutely at such moments, as if the constant and varied stream of life were passing right through you—whereas, in fact, it is passing you by, far, far away.39
It was even harder not to miss him too much and not to worry about not hearing from him. On January 12, when the Central Executive Committee session was over, she wrote to tease him about his portrait in the newspaper, to ask for the original photograph, and to mark the first anniversary of her arrest: “I’ve been remembering how badly I wanted to see you before being taken away, and how happy I was when you came. And how in jail I have been reading the reports about the Central Executive Committee meeting. Yes, my dear Mikhasik, it’s already been a year. How much longer? It is comforting, of course, to think that had I not ended up here, I would never have learned trigonometry, and my knowledge of Das Kapital would have remained at its previous, fairly modest level. But still, even these serious advantages do not fill me with very much joy. It’s been a year since I’ve seen our little Rada! She must have changed so much.”40
Mikhail Poloz with his daughter Rada, with her hair shaved off for the summer
Five days later, she wrote again:
17 January
Mikhasik, my darling, my very own, beloved Mikhasik! Oh how I want to see you, to hold you, to talk to you, to be silent together in your room at dusk. Over the last several days, I have been overcome by such profound sadness, such a desire to be with you and our Rada, such boundless love for you both. Oh Mikhasik, if only I could be sure that I would get to see you this year … My dears, I love you both with all my heart, and right now my heart is aching with all this love …
My mother writes that you are very, very tired, my love, and that you need lots of care and attention. Oh how happy I would be to give it to you—like back in those days when I would come to Moscow to see you in that big, empty apartment. And as always in such cases, I can’t help thinking with acute and painful regret of all those times when I could have given you joy, but didn’t, and perhaps even made you suffer instead. It is not
good to remember such things in an isolator, when you can’t actively express your feelings of love and your desire to make your loved one happy.
I am waiting for your letter, waiting patiently … It may arrive soon—tomorrow or maybe the day after tomorrow. Yesterday I received my mother’s letter of January 1; it took 17 days. The mail broke down for a while, but now everything seems to be okay, and my most recent letter to you was sent on its way at the normal time. I hope your letters will start arriving more quickly, too.
Mikhasik, my darling, if you have a free moment, please remember how I wait for your letters.
Oh well, I won’t add anything to what just got written. Don’t feel bad for me, my darling: such boundless love is a great happiness in and of itself, even in an isolator … I hope you were able to get some pleasure from my letter, too. I want you to be happy. If you are all happy, I, too, am happy and calm, even if far away.
18 January
Dear Mikhasik, a day has passed, but the intensity hasn’t diminished. I feel good and sad, and I love you and everyone there. It makes me so happy to read my mother’s descriptions of your conversations with Rada. The day will come, won’t it, when we can all be together and have such conversations? And in the meantime, I think I can allow myself to feel a little sad between Das Kapital and trigonometry.
Well, that’s all for now. I kiss you very, very tenderly, my love …
She continued to correspond with her mother: about her teeth, her shoes, her need for more cod liver oil, her disappointment with Pionerskaia Pravda, her opposition to wallpaper for their apartment (“it will only attract bedbugs”), and her worries about Rada’s winter vacation in the country. On January 24, she had still not received anything from Mikhail.
24 January
Mikhas, my darling! I thought for a long time about whether or not I should write to you what I am about to write or exercise restraint and not show my true weakness. Especially since this weakness and the way I express it will affect not only you. Still, I have decided “to react” … I do not know if it will make things better or make me feel better afterward, but I do know how hard it is for me right now … And so, after this solemn introduction, which might lead one to expect some extraordinary revelations, it’s actually something simple that should not be hard for you to understand: I am quite ill without your letters, dear Mikhas. I don’t mean this as a metaphor. I have grown much weaker physically over the last several weeks due to extreme stress. I can’t eat; I can’t sleep; and study is impossible. When I wake up at night or in the morning, I feel a heavy weight on my chest, and I think: here comes another day with nothing in the mail. I keep asking myself: why is this happening? Have I really failed to make you understand what your letters mean to me here (and not only here)? Don’t you want to write to me yourself? When I think about what kinds of letters you have been receiving recently, with what kinds of news and questions (I really do need your answers), I simply cannot understand your silence. Perhaps you have written? Perhaps I simply did not receive your letter? Or are you so tired and exhausted that you can’t write a serious letter? But surely it wouldn’t be hard to add a line to my mother’s letters (such a line could be written at any moment on any sheet or scrap of paper, so as not to tie yourself to the timing of my mother’s letters) … In the state I am now in, whatever lies ahead (for me personally) looks very gloomy. I know that I have gotten caught up in “personal emotions” … I do understand, my dear Mikhas, that this is completely unjustified weakness … It seems that this past year has left its mark on me as far as my emotional state is concerned. It is very sad. What will happen by the end of my third year? Please bear this weakness of mine in mind, my darling. No one else will help me in my moment of weakness, and that’s the way it should be. But surely I can count on you for help? All the more so because I am not asking for much: just enough for me to feel the thread that continually connects us. Really, my darling, I don’t need much for that …
She went on to talk about Rada’s upbringing. Then, after addressing several questions to her mother, she added a postscript:
Mikhas, darling, I have reread my letter and decided not to mail it, but there was no time to write another, so I only crossed out one passage and am sending the rest. I cannot say I am calm now: I am calm on the outside, but it takes a lot of effort. I am still in complete suspense. Please don’t judge my letter harshly, and try to understand. Reach out your hand to me. Tania.41
■ ■ ■
Mikhail did not respond because on January 12, the day Tania wrote the first of her “sad” letters, he had been arrested as a Ukrainian nationalist (a former member of the Ukrainian Left-SR “Borotbist” Party). According to the report submitted by the arresting officer, Edelman, to the commander of the OGPU Secret-Political Department, Molchanov, the attempt to enter the apartment without warning failed because both doors had been bolted. Mikhail opened the door in his pajamas:
After we initiated the search, we immediately became aware that Poloz had been preparing for it, since the contents of his cupboard lay in complete disarray: books, medicine, and personal items were scattered about at random, in no apparent order. All the drawers in his desk had been completely cleaned out, and only on top of the desk were a few budget committee documents that he had been using to prepare his report for the meeting. He had not set aside any extra clothing or shoes.
He spent a long time saying goodbye to his mother-in-law, the mother of the Trotskyite, Miagkova, emphasizing the parting, but also feeling compelled to say out loud: “Well, I hope things get cleared up, and we see each other again, even if it takes a little while.”
Thirty rubles (the ones we found in his wallet) was all the money he had, and he took it with him, leaving Miagkova nothing but a receipt for a suit that could be sold and a special-store pass, which he handed to her.
Also notable was the total absence of the collected works of Lenin and Stalin, except for a copy of the most recent edition of Problems of Leninism with no marginal comments, while, at the same time, there was other literature such as Bukharin and some brochures written by Rykov that had been read thoroughly.
Notable, too, was the absence of any portrait of Comrade Stalin, while at the same time there were a large number of photographs of Ukraine’s nationalist leaders, a portrait of Skrypnik (a personal gift), and several books by Voronsky with a personal dedication to Miagkova. There was nothing at all on the walls. It gave the impression of a temporary camp.42
Mikhail had, indeed, “been preparing for it” (many of the former “Borotbists” had already been arrested). Rada had been sent out of town to make sure she did not witness her father’s arrest. Tania heard the news in late January, but was not allowed to write to him directly.43
You must have many worries and cares, so please don’t worry about me at all, Mommy dearest, except to send news as regularly as you can (you understand, of course, how important this is for me). I am calm, dear, and not expecting anything bad. In any case, all bad things eventually pass. Try not to overwork yourself, my dear, and take care of Lelia [Tania’s sister]. Don’t forget to feed yourselves as well as the children. Lelia should remember that this is also for the sake of the kids….
So, my darlings, goodbye for now and please don’t be angry about the short letter. After I receive your letter, Mommy, dearest, I’ll write lots and lots. As for Mikhasik, my own darling Mikhasik, whom I love more than ever, please send him a very, very tender kiss from me, Mommy, dear. And kiss dear sweet Rada, too….
That is all, my darlings.
I send kisses to you all,
Your Tania
My darling, beloved Mikhasik, sun of my world and joy of my life, I am sending you a big, big, big hug and a kiss.
Dearest Mommy, I don’t have to tell you how much I look forward to your letters, do I? My teeth are not so bad and can still wait a bit longer, so please don’t worry about them, my dear.44
During the first few days after Mikhail’s arrest Tania
could only manage to read fiction (mostly Tolstoy’s Resurrection and Anna Karenina), but by February 12, she had resumed her studies (although Das Kapital was still too difficult, “maybe because my work on it, and on mathematics, was associated with a whole series of thoughts, feelings, and emotions that are a little difficult to return to right now”). She had also regained her desire for a full life understood as a seamless connection between her, her family, and the building of socialism. “That reminds me,” she wrote to her mother on February 18, “why didn’t you write about how the plan was approved, and about Lelia’s health? As for Rada, you have made me happy. That’s the kind of mood I’d like to see her in. Let her think about me and dream about a life together even less often. I am absolutely sure, for some reason, that I won’t lose her affection. I would not want for her childhood to end now.” The family members remaining in Moscow—Feoktista Yakovlevna, Rada, Tania’s sister Lelia, and Lelia’s son Volia (the maid had left soon after Mikhail’s arrest)—were evicted from their House of Government apartment and chose a new one in Orphan Alley, next to the Comintern radio station. (They were offered a choice of several apartments and given some House of Government furniture, complete with numbered tags.) Lelia became Rada’s official guardian. Both Lelia and Feoktista Yakovlevna committed themselves to making sure that Rada’s—and, to the extent possible, their own—childhood would not end. According to Feoktista Yakovlevna’s letters, and Rada’s own recollections, they largely succeeded. Tania seemed grateful and relieved. “In analyzing the work of one of our poets,” she wrote on June 4, “the Literaturnaia gazeta cites his description of young pine trees. They frolic in the breeze, like a circle of kids, who don’t know grief, and whose parents are near. The reason Rada ‘doesn’t know grief,’ even though her parents are, alas, very far away, is your doing. Yours and Lelia’s. Because one of my most painful thoughts after the news about Mikhailik was: ‘So Rada’s childhood has come to an end.’”45
The House of Government Page 77
