I can’t quite remember when or how I first discovered the band Gogol Bordello. It’s essentially an international American group led by Ukrainian emigrant Eugene Hütz. Eugene himself played one of the main roles in the film Everything Is Illuminated, which tells the story of an American Jew (played by Elijah Wood) traveling to Ukraine in search of his late grandfather’s lost love.
Many of their songs have stayed in my playlist for a long time. One of them was a song about Kyiv, performed by the band together with fans of the Dynamo Kyiv football team. Yesterday, it started playing in my car.
These days, it feels especially relevant. Kyiv, stay strong!
And so, Boris Akunin’s nine-volume History of the Russian State has come to an end—a project that took him nearly ten years to complete. Beginning from the very origins, he concluded his narrative with the reign of Nicholas II and the year 1917. Of course, Russia’s history did not end there, but from that point on, it largely became a completely different country, transforming into the USSR for the next 70 years. One could argue that even in its earlier stages, it wasn’t quite Russia as we understand it today—after all, Kievan Rus’ was the cradle of several nations. Unfortunately, at the time I am writing these lines, even this topic is being used to justify war. That’s why I viewed this series as a history of the Eastern Slavs, with a focus on the people of modern-day Russia.
The closer the author got to modern history, the more eagerly I anticipated his take on events that we studied in detail at school—albeit in a rather one-sided way. From Boris Akunin, I expected a more impartial perspective on these events, delivered in his distinctive style.
The final stage of the Russian Empire’s life is the reign of its last emperor, Nicholas II, a figure who evokes highly polarized opinions—either as a completely inept autocrat or as a near-saint. Above all, he was a man placed in circumstances for which he was, evidently, not well suited.
This time, focusing on a period of history well known to many, Boris Akunin chose a new approach to his storytelling. He divided the book into two parts. In the first, titled “A Bouquet of Illnesses,” he examines the condition of the empire during this era, portraying the vast country as a sick patient suffering from numerous chronic diseases. He identifies many of the same issues he has repeatedly highlighted in earlier volumes: the conflict between the sacralized autocratic power and an increasingly self-aware society, the imperial obsession with expansion and the inability to manage it, national tensions (Jews, Poles, Finns, and others), and more. He also lays out how all these problems—along with the personality of the emperor himself—became entangled in a knot from which there was almost no way out.
The History of the Russian State series by Boris Akunin recently concluded with its final book on the reign of Nicholas II. However, the last part of the accompanying fiction cycle has yet to be released. The Road to Kitezh is the penultimate novel in this fictional series, which serves as “additional material” to the main historical narrative.
In these novels, Boris Akunin traces the life of a single family from pre-Varangian times—presumably up until the 1917 Revolution—while weaving in the historical events of each respective era around them. Sometimes it’s engaging, sometimes not so much. But in this particular book, The Road to Kitezh, the central figure of the titular dynasty, Adrian Lartsev, though portrayed as a highly unconventional individual with a deep passion for railroad construction that runs throughout the novel, is actually a secondary character this time. The true protagonist here is the State itself. Everything the characters do is for the benefit of this very State and its people. The entire struggle is fought for a better future, which different forces interpret in their own way.
What does the average person know about the Middle Ages? That there were knights with their ladies, they went on several crusades to fight the infidels, the noble English king Richard the Lionheart (who was actually quite a scoundrel), the Knights of the Round Table (not from here), dragons and a talking donkey (also not from here), the right of the first night, Robin Hood and his men in tights, Teutonic knights on ice, and chastity belts. Probably something else too, but I can’t recall off the top of my head.
In her book, Rosalie Gilbert set out to examine some of these so-called “facts” that we know thanks to movies and books, focusing on a particular adult theme—intimate matters. Were people really all that virtuous? Was there even a sex life at all? (Obviously, there was, since people had to reproduce somehow.) And how did they guard against spousal infidelity, or, conversely, try to ignite passion in their partners?
It took me just a few pages to decide I wanted to read the book because the author jumps right in, debunking myths and revealing just how difficult it was to remain a virgin in those times. After all, male virginity wasn’t much of a concern back then, and women, in general, were considered the embodiment of sin (we all remember Eve and the apple in Eden, right?), whom men simply had to tolerate for the sake of the survival of the family line.
For me, Alexander Gradsky has always been associated with an incredibly powerful voice paired with heavy smoking. While others would say that no vocal singer should ever smoke, Gradsky smoked like a chimney and then walked out to sing in a way that gave you goosebumps.
I never really thought about what kind of person he was in everyday life, but his voice always captivated me. My favorite song performed by him has always been “How Young We Were,” the song that earned him the Pesnya Goda (Song of the Year) award in the year I was born. So, you could say this song is my peer (though it was written two years before I was born).
On November 28, 2021, Alexander Gradsky passed away. A month later, the final of the show The Voice aired on Channel One, where Alisher Karimov performed “How Young We Were” as a duet with Alexander Gradsky, who appeared only on screen.
Tears in my eyes, the other coaches stood up and listened to the song while standing… And Gradsky, even 44 years after first performing this song, effortlessly dominated the melody. Alisher’s performance (no offense to him) simply paled in comparison to Gradsky’s timeless power.
Well, here’s another song from a Belarusian band that caught my attention this week. Honestly, I hadn’t heard of them before, but the song is catchy, the video is fun, and it’s quite original.
I should point out that the instrument shown and played in the video is not a Scottish bagpipe, as many might assume, but a similar instrument—the Belarusian duda.
The Belarusian language is very beautiful and melodic, though in recent years, it has become less well-known compared to Ukrainian. During Soviet times, it was at least heard in the performances of the most famous Belarusian groups, Pesnyary and Syabry. Sometimes, people even recognized the melody more than the song itself, as with “Kasiu Jas’ Kaniushynu” (Jas Mowed Clover), which all children heard countless times in “Nu, Pogodi!” when the wolf was racing through a field on a combine harvester. Later, some songs in Belarusian could be heard in the works of the band Lyapis Trubetskoy, though I’m not sure how well their Belarusian-language songs are known outside Belarus.
I’ve already shared Belarusian-language songs on my blog several times, and now I’ve decided to do so more often. Not everything, but the ones I truly like.
This time, I want to draw attention to a song I love in its original Italian version performed by the charismatic Adriano Celentano—“Confessa.” A few years ago, it was translated into Belarusian and performed just as beautifully. No, it’s not Celentano, but it touches the soul just as deeply:
Working with numbers, analytics—all of it always ends the same way: with graphical representation to clearly present data to ordinary people, management, shareholders, or even to understand it yourself. Many authors focus on the skill of presenting information in this form, although it’s often just a single chapter in books on broader topics. Even from those mentioned in my blog, you can refer to “The Numbers Game“ by Vasiliy Sabirov or “How to Lie with Statistics“ by Darrell Huff.
Following a recommendation from Vasiliy Sabirov, I read a book entirely dedicated to the correct way to convey any information through charts—“Charts That Persuade Everyone” by Alexander Bogachev. As a manager, I encounter charts frequently, but even I hadn’t considered some of the finer details that can drastically change how information is perceived.
This is a very short book—240 pages, nearly half of which are examples of various charts. But this is precisely its value: there’s almost no filler here; everything is strictly focused on the topic.
On my Facebook, I wrote about how much I disliked the series “The Witcher,” and I found the second season to be far worse than the first. However, in the first season, everyone was blown away by the bard Jaskier’s song “Toss a Coin to Your Witcher,” which unexpectedly became far more popular on the internet than the series itself for a while. And that was true for both the original English version and the Russian adaptation.
In the second season, there was another song performed by Jaskier—“Burn Butcher Burn.” The Russian version sounds rather bland, while the English rendition is far more powerful, almost as if they were two completely different songs. This is unusual because Russian dubbing is typically excellent, owing to decades of experience from the Soviet school of dubbing.
At first, I wanted to feature only the English version in my blog, but then I found a video that compiled the scene in multiple languages with different audio tracks. It starts with the English version and then includes many others, such as Russian and Ukrainian. I must say that in most cases, the voice chosen for the character fits quite well. The Czech and French performances are on par with the original. I’m not as confident about the others. As for my personal playlist, I’ve added the original version.
