Little Apples

ON THE CHARACTERISTICS OF NATIONS

(From the Notebook of a Naïve Member of the Russian Geographic Society)

The French are noted for their frivolity. They read immoral novels, marry without their parents’ consent, do not obey doormen, do not respect their elders, and fail to read The Moscow News. They are so devoid of morals that their courts are overwhelmed with divorce cases. Sarah Bernhardt, for instance, divorces husbands with such regularity that through her patronage one court secretary alone grew richer by two houses. French women act in operettas and stroll along Nevsky Prospekt, while the men bake French bread and sing the Marseillaise. Many of their names rhyme with gigolo: Monsieur Rigolo, Monsieur Tremolo, Monsieur Ex-Nihilo, to name a few.

The Swedes waged war against Peter the Great and gave our compatriot Lapshin the idea of Swedish matches (though they have not yet taught him how to make them work). Swedes ride Swedish horses, listen to Swedish ladies sing in restaurants, and grease the wheels of their carts with Norwegian tar. They live in remote areas.

The Greeks are mainly involved in trade. They sell sponges, goldfish, wine from Santorini, and Greek soap. Greeks who lack trading permits lead monkeys on leashes, or teach ancient languages. In their free time they fish near the Odessa and Taganrog customs offices. The Greek feeds on the bad-quality food served in Greek taverns, which is what ultimately leads to his demise. From time to time one comes upon a tall Greek such as Mr. Vlados, who runs a Tatar restaurant in Moscow—a man who is very tall and very fat.

Spaniards strum their guitars night and day, fight duels outside windows, and exchange letters with Constantine Shilovsky, a country squire from Zvenigorod, who composed “Baby Tiger” and “Oh to Be a Spaniard.” They are never accepted into the civil service, as they have long hair and wear plaids. They marry for love, but kill their wives soon after the wedding in a fit of jealousy, despite the protestations of the Spanish police officers, who are highly respected in Spain. They engage in the preparation of Spanish fly.

Circassians, to a man, sport the title “Your Excellency,” drink Georgian wine, and brawl in editorial offices. They are engaged in the production of antique Caucasian weaponry. Their minds are entirely unclouded by thought, and their noses are long so they can be led out by them of public places, where they cause disorder.

Persians battle Russian bedbugs, fleas, and cockroaches, for which they concoct Persian powder. They have been waging this war for a long time but it is far from won, and judging by the girth of merchants’ feather beds that are stuffed with banknotes, and the cracks in the bureaucrats’ beds through which banknotes slip away, victory is not in sight. Wealthy Persians sit on Persian carpets, poor Persians sit on stakes, a position the former find far more pleasurable. They wear the Imperial Order of the Lion and Sun, which is held by our very own Julius Schreyer, cannoneer and war correspondent extraordinaire, who garnered Persian sympathies. Another recipient of this order is the bankrupt director of the Skopin Bank, who received it for untiring services rendered to Persia, as many Moscow merchants also did for their unfaltering support of the Persians’ aforementioned war on insects.

The British put an exceedingly high value on time. “Time is money” is their motto, and therefore, instead of paying their tailors what they owe them, they pay them from time to time. The British are busy: they give public speeches, sail about in boats, and poison Chinese with opium. Leisure is a foreign concept to them. They have no time for dinner, no time to spend at balls, no time for tête-à-têtes, no time for steam baths. They send menservants to their rendezvous, who are given carte blanche. (Children born to these menservants are recognized as legitimate.) This busy nation lives in British clubs and on the Promenade des Anglais. The Englishman feeds on Epsom salts, and succumbs to the English disease.

A MODERN GUIDE TO LETTER WRITING

What is a letter? It is one of the means by which thoughts and feelings are exchanged; and yet, as letters are so often written by people lacking all thought and feeling, this definition does not quite hit the mark. The best definition, perhaps, was once provided by a lofty postal clerk: “A letter is a noun without which postal clerks would end up jobless and stamps unsold.”

There are open letters and sealed letters. The latter have to be opened with the utmost care, and, after having been read through, resealed carefully so that the addressee’s suspicions are not aroused. Reading other people’s mail is generally not to be recommended—although, of course, the benefit those close to the addressee might gain from doing so warrants the practice. Parents, wives, and superiors interested in a person’s morals, thoughts, and the purity of his convictions must read his letters.

Letters should be written with clarity and discernment. Courtesy, respect, and modesty of expression serve to ornament every letter, and when writing a letter to one’s superiors in the civil service, these considerations, as well as carefully following the scale of rank in addressing one’s superiors, is a prerequisite. You might, for instance, begin your letter in the following fashion: “Most magnanimous and beneficent Excellency, Ivan Ivanovich, May I draw your illustrious attention to . . .”

Men of letters, artists, and painters have neither rank nor title, so a simple “Dear Mr.” will do.

SAMPLE LETTERS

A letter to one’s superior

Most magnanimous and beneficent Excellency!

I am taking it upon myself to draw your exalted attention to the fact that yesterday, at the Chertobolotovs’ christening, our assistant bookkeeper Peresekin repeatedly delivered himself of, among other things, the opinion that the floors of our chambers need to be relacquered, and that it was high time our tables had new coverings. Though I cannot imagine that there was any malicious intent in his statements, one can only discern in them a certain discontent with the current state of affairs. It is to be lamented that among us there are still some whose frivolity leads them to be blind to the benefits of our association with Your Excellency. What ends are these people pursuing? I am puzzled and aggrieved! Exalted Excellency! You shower myriad benefactions upon us, but, Your Excellency, deliver us from those who are heading toward an evil end and dragging others with them.

Yours in abject sincerity and prayerful devotion,

Semyon Gnusnov

P.S. With all respectfulness, I draw Your Excellency’s attention to the fact that Your Excellency condescended to promise my nephew Kapiton the post of assistant bookkeeper. Though he might not yet have attained the highest standards of accomplishment, he is deferential and a teetotaler.

A letter to one’s inferior

The day before yesterday, when you brought my galoshes over to my wife, you stood waiting in a draft and, I am told, caught a chill, leading to your absence from the office. You are herewith severely reprimanded for this gross negligence of your health.

A love letter

Dearest Mariya Ermeyevna,

Being in dire need of funds, I herewith offer you my heart and hand. To avert any doubts you might have, I am enclosing an affidavit from the police testifying to my character.

With tender love,

M. Tprunov

A letter to a friend

My dearest friend Vasya,

Could you lend me five rubles until tomorrow?

Yours,

Hypochondriakov

(Such a letter is to be answered with: “No, I can’t.)

A business letter

Chère Princesse Milictrisse Kirbitevna,

May I, in abject respectfulness, draw Your Excellency’s attention to Your Excellency’s debt of one ruble and twelve kopecks that I had the honor of winning from Your Excellency in a game of cards the year before last at Beloyedov’s house, but have not yet had the honor of receiving.

In humble expectation, etc.

Zelenopupov

A risky letter

Excellency!

Yesterday I learned quite by chance that the New Year’s bonus I received was not owing to my personal merit, but to my wife’s. Needless to say, under these circumstances I can no longer continue my service in your office, and must request a transfer.

With assurances of my utmost contempt, etc.

Yours, So-and-so

A letter of invective

Dear Sir!

You critic, you!

A letter to a writer

Dear Sir,

Though I do not know you personally, charity and pity for you drive me to proffer you some good advice (since you seem to be a capable enough person): give up your pointless attempts!

A well-wisher

(It is best to refrain from signing such a letter, as one might find oneself compromised.)