8. the “dry bones” of Ezekiel’s vision: The reference is to Ezekiel 37:1–10, the prophecy on the dry bones, which is read during the Orthodox service of Holy Friday.
9. the Voltaireans … against it: An allusion to words spoken by the mayor in act 1, scene 1, of The Inspector General (1836), by Nikolai Gogol (1809–52): “That’s how God Himself made it, and the Voltaireans shouldn’t go talking against it.”
10. “In the sweat … bread”: Part of God’s curse on Adam (Genesis 3:17–19).
11. a beshmet … hooks: A beshmet is a man’s knee-length jacket, of Turkic origin, belted at the waist, open below, and fastened up to the neck with hooks or buttons.
12. The Great Lent … approaching: In the Orthodox Church, the Great Lent is the forty-day fast period preceding Holy Week and Easter.
13. that the spirit may be saved: See 1 Corinthians 5:5 (“To deliver such an one unto Satan for the destruction of the flesh, that the spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus”).
14. The Solovetsky Monastery: See note 43 to “The Enchanted Wanderer.” The monastery was sometimes used as a place of banishment and “re-education.” Under the Soviets it was turned into one of the harshest hard-labor camps.
15. Lanskoy … Kostroma: Sergei Stepanovich Lanskoy (1787–1862) was governor of Kostroma province from 1831 to 1834, and later served as minister of the interior (1855–61). In that office he was instrumental in bringing about the emancipation of the serfs in 1861, the same year in which he was made a count.
16. the zertsalo: A three-sided pyramid of mirrored glass topped by a two-headed eagle, which stood on the desk of every Russian official. It was introduced by Peter the Great as a symbol of law and order, each face of the zertsalo being engraved with words from one of his decrees.
17. my garment … wedding feast: See Matthew 22:11–12, the parable of the wedding feast (“And when the king came to see the guests, he saw there a man which had not on a wedding garment: and he saith unto him, Friend, how camest thou in hither not having a wedding garment?”).
18. principalities and powers: Words used by St. Paul in Ephesians 1:21 and Colossians 1:16 referring to the angelic hierarchy, here applied ironically to government authorities.
19. Theophany water … inheritance: The feast of Theophany (Epiphany), celebrated on January 6, includes the blessing of water for church and home use by immersing a cross in it with accompanying prayers. The quoted words, however, come from the troparion (a short hymn) for the two feasts of the Holy Cross, and ultimately from Psalm 28:9.
20. the Offenbachian mood: Meaning a frivolous spirit, from Jacques Offenbach (1819–80), the well-known French composer, author of nearly a hundred operettas full of risqué humor and contemporary satire.
21. Blessed … Lord: Words from Psalm 118:26, repeated in Luke 13:35 and Matthew 11:9 in reference to Christ, and also used in the Orthodox liturgy.
22. for a wicked servant it’s little: See the parable of the master and his three servants in Matthew 25:14–30 and Luke 19:12–27.
23. Voltaire … empress … Chrysostom … Pavel Petrovich: The empress Catherine the Great (see note 1 above) corresponded with Voltaire for fifteen years. St. John Chrysostom (349–407), archbishop of Constantinople and one of the most important Byzantine theologians, was called Chrysostomos (Greek for “golden mouthed”) in tribute to the eloquence of his preaching. Pavel Petrovich Romanov (1754–1801), the son of Catherine the Great and Peter III, became emperor in 1796 and reigned for five years before he was assassinated. In 1773, he was married to Wilhelmina of Hesse-Darmstadt (1755–76), who died in childbirth three years later.
24. stump duties … tax on timber: The newly imposed tax on timber was calculated by the number of stumps. Maria, the first daughter of the emperor Alexander I (1777–1825), lived for only a year.
25. St. Vladimir’s Cross … nobility: The Order of St. Vladimir was established in 1782 by Catherine the Great, in honor of Grand Prince Vladimir of Kiev (ca. 958–1015), the “baptizer” of Russia. It was one of only two orders that granted the bearer the rights of hereditary nobility.
26. “three righteous men”: The first book publication of “Singlemind” in 1880 included the following foreword:
Without three righteous men no city can stand.
A certain great Russian writer was dying before me for the forty-eighth time. He is still alive, just as he went on living after his forty-seven previous deaths, observed by other people and in other circumstances.
He lay before me, alone, splayed out on the boundless sofa and preparing to dictate his last will to me, but instead he began to curse.
I can relate unabashedly how it went and what consequences it led to.
The writer was threatened by death through the fault of the theatrical-literary committee, which was just then killing his play with an unflinching hand. No pharmacy had any medicine against the racking pains this inflicted upon the author’s health.
“My soul is wounded and my guts are all twisted inside me,” said the sufferer, gazing at the ceiling of the hotel room, and then, shifting his gaze to me, he suddenly shouted:
“Why are you silent, as if your mouth’s stuffed with devil knows what? You Petersburgers all have some kind of nastiness in your hearts: you never say anything to console a man; he could just as well give up the ghost right in front of your eyes.”
It was the first time I had been present at the death of this extraordinary man and, not understanding his mortal anguish, I said:
“How can I console you? I can only say that everybody will be extremely sorry if the theatrical-literary committee cuts your precious life short with its harsh decision, but …”
“Not a bad beginning,” the writer interrupted. “Kindly keep talking and maybe I’ll fall asleep.”
“As you wish,” I replied. “So, are you sure that you’re now dying?”
“Am I sure? I tell you, I’m almost gone!”
“Splendid,” I said, “but have you thought well about whether this grief is worth your expiring on account of it?”
“Of course it’s worth it; it’s worth a thousand roubles,” the dying man moaned.
“Right. Unfortunately,” I replied, “the play would hardly bring you more than a thousand roubles, and therefore …”
But the dying man did not let me finish: he quickly raised himself on the sofa and cried:
“What a vile way to reason! Kindly give me a thousand roubles and then you can reason all you like.”
“Why should I pay for someone else’s sin?” I said.
“And why should I be the loser?”
“Because, knowing how things go in our theaters, you described all sorts of titled persons in your play and presented them as each one worse and more banal than the other.”
“Ahh, so that’s your consolation! According to you, one must describe nothing but good people, but I describe what I see, brother, and all I see is filth.”
“Then something’s wrong with your eyesight.”
“Maybe so,” the dying man replied, now thoroughly angry, “but what am I to do if I see nothing but abomination in my own soul and in yours? And thereupon the Lord God will now help me turn from you to the wall and sleep with a peaceful conscience, and I’ll leave tomorrow despising all my native land and your consolations.”
And the sufferer’s prayer was answered: he “thereupon” had an excellent night’s sleep, and the next day I took him to the station; but then, as a result of his words, I myself was overcome by a gnawing anxiety.