Russia/China, relationship during the cultural revolution
anonymous
November 6 2010, 02:26:40 UTC
DECADES ago, in the era of the "cultural revolution" (1966-1976), love and marriage bore a heavy political burden; the little red book (Quotations of Chairman Mao) was presented in place of a wedding band, or generally served as a token of love and engagement. Imagine how outlandish it seems to young people today to read love letters that pine: "I hope you can arrange your work, study and life well, so as to sustain your ideals and revolutionary zeal, and not degrade into an uncouth and lowly person." But such sentiments were typical 40 years ago in decent young men and women, who often delivered revolutionary pep talks instead of whispering "sweet nothings." http://www.chinatoday.com.cn/ctenglish/se/txt/2009-09/28/content_220425.htm
A communist love affair (or marriage of convenience, if you prefer.) Love letters filled with communist proletarian didactic; spouting Marxisms and Maoisms; fighting the evils of bourgeois capitalism together.
Bonuses: -referring to each other as "comrade" as the closest thing they get to a pet name. (Comrade is slang for homosexual in China nowadays.) -yandere!China and the breakdown of the cultural revolution
the flowers won't bloom 'till spring [1/5]
anonymous
December 3 2010, 01:56:51 UTC
not the anon from above but OP's prompt is so lovely I had to write something; please let me know of any misrepresentation or inaccuracy of the time period. Otherwise, I hope it is OK ;w;
Comrade,
Yesterday, Mother told us to cut our hair. For the longest time it has not been seemly to appear with long hair, seeing as how it is a reminder of the bourgeois and their imperialistic tendencies. I have always been attached to my hair, for slightly sentimental reasons, I will admit. It is frivolous of me. Suddenly realizing this, I felt shameful of myself and I snatched the dull blade from my sister and my long hair is no more. All the students share this style; short and simple. It is rather the fashion nowadays. Is it like that in Moscow, also? Do the boys and girls shear their hair to relinquish all sense of vanity? There is a certain liberation present in the action, and I would not hesitate to suggest the same to you. Has your hair grown longer? If it has, please cut it.
It has been a long time since I last saw you, after all. I haven't forgotten you, of course, but it has been so busy and I was recently promoted. My day grows longer and the workload doubles, as do the responsibilities. I am so busy that I almost fell asleep in the midst of work today. My boss yelled at me and threw two sharp rocks at my face to wake me up. It was deserved, I assure you. Now there is a red scratch as a reminder, and I have been properly punished.
Work here in our student's association starts early before the sun rises and ends after dark. My sister is still too young for membership though she yearns to be part of our movement. I'm proud of her sincerity and I am proud that she is so full of enthusiasm, something only must be bred from a young age; or else, any chance of indoctrination is lost. The younger of my two brothers is one prime example. He is a complete failure. He sleeps without remorse and he shows utterly no decorum in public. It is bad luck for our family. Mother has admonished him several times, to no avail. He insists on acting "as he desires" and yet, none of these desires are in accordance with Chairman Mao's teachings. He wears his hair long and there is always a strand that refuses to sit flat. It drives Father insane and it makes Mother cry. Sometimes, he talks of running away or marrying a Westerner and then running away. He talks about America and being free, as if he is not already fed three times a day and given a steady job with a good pay. He says these shocking things constantly without thinking and Father beats him for it. He says if he does not watch himself, he will be sent to prison. My brother retorts, "Let them try." Perhaps I will ask sister to talk to him in private; of my siblings, they share the closest relationship and my sister has always been fond of her older brother.
I hope you will take time to reply to this letter. Forgive me for the digression at the end, I don't know what came over me. Tell me what it's like in Moscow right now. It will be October when this flimsy letter reaches you. Tell me, when does it start to snow?
Sincerely, Comrade Wang Yao
*
Comrade!
I am hopeful that the next time you belatedly inform me of such a drastic action (cutting your hair, really!), you will provide photographic evidence. I will miss your fine, long hair but I am certain your new look is just as befitting of the proper young man whom you so embody. Until then, I shall cherish my imagined perception of you and I will dream of a day when we will again meet.
the flowers won't bloom 'till spring [2/5]
anonymous
December 3 2010, 02:00:21 UTC
Moscow is cold this winter, which has started early. We wear our thick coats and trudge through the day as we always have. Every time I am near a heater, I push my way to the front, but those times are rare and when I am outside-which is most of the day-I am frozen to the skin. My cheeks turn red and I feel nothing when I touch them. I hope your winter in Shanghai will not be as devastating as it is here in dreary Moscow. I am already looking forward to the spring, when the flowers bloom and I can see real flowers, not just the ones in the pictures. Actually, to be frank, I am wishing for a sunny spring. I think it would be beautiful if the sun shone here. There are many structures left over from those times that seem to need a little light, if you know what I mean. If I could, I would take a picture of them and send it to you. Or you could come here to Moscow yourself. Tell your boss that your Soviet friend has an opportunity for you, yes?
No, I kid, and it was a bad joke. I know you could never leave you family, you are too honorable and that is what I admire about you, Comrade. Thus, in lieu, we share a correspondence that I must cut short for today. My sister is calling me for help with our daily chores and she always spills the water for washing.
Ivan Braginski
*
Comrade,
Last week, I spoke briefly to an official and, taking heed of your word, I mentioned of a relation I had in Moscow. The official immediately took notice and noted that it was a very good thing to be sent over for higher education. "Finishing your re-education," was how he put it. He mentioned the Moscow Sun Yat-sen University because that is where he had been educated but if I recall correctly, the university is no longer enrolling? I find it a pity. Although I firmly believe that my place is here, in Shanghai, it would be greatly beneficial to observe the system of Marxism-Leninism in a metropolitan such as Moscow. So let it be known that I have remembered you and kept you in mind.
Since I last cut my hair, as I informed you, I have further styled it in the way of the young men of today. I fear that if I sent you a photograph, I would be unrecognizable, so I will allow you to think of me as you will. My sister (her name is Xia) cut it for me. She is very good with her hands. Every day, she is proving to be more and more capable. Although young and on the smaller side, she makes up for it in an abundance of enthusiasm and dedication. She does her recitations every morning and is able to out-quote the elder of my two brothers, which thoroughly shames him. However, because he is a hard-working youth himself, he promptly congratulated her and promised that he would push himself harder than ever.
I often speak of my family. I hope that does not bother you, but I feel that my family is a better representative of who I am than myself. I know that if any of my family relatives were to suffer an atrocity I would be burdened with grief and sorrow and rendered incapable of serving my party.
If my speaking of them ever bores you, let me know immediately and I will cease the matter. I will try and think of other things to speak of though there is distressingly little. I am certain my work would not make for good letter material and I fear (and have no desire) to appear uncouth or lowly. We must strive to never let ourselves drop so low into the abyss of shame.
the flowers won't bloom 'till spring [3/5]
anonymous
December 3 2010, 02:41:00 UTC
That is indeed a pity, Comrade! I would have so looked forward to your arrival in Moscow, it certainly would've have brightened up the atmosphere. I can imagine your vivacious talk and your determined studies. I know one day you will become a great leader, and I know you will think the flatter ugly or whatnot. But I truly mean it. You are a youth leader and will continue to lead, whether your hair is long, short, or completely gone (that is my attempt at sarcasm, by the way!).
As for myself, I am happy when I see you detail the (mis)adventures of your family. You are most fortunate to have, for the most part, an understanding and model family. I, too, mourn for your brother and I hope he will see the error of his ways before it is too late. As for myself, my family is small. My Natalia is still too young to fend for herself or truly comprehend her position. My elder sister is wed and she no longer lives near me, and I rarely see her. Have I told you of my family before? My mother is dead and my father was a political prisoner many years ago for terrible, terrible crimes. It was early in the era of the Republic and he had some unsavory ties the extent of which I am not entirely aware. In any case, I have since proven myself as a capable student, good enough to lead a small unit of students. Our unit is one of many in our association, so if you are at the forefront of yours, then you certainly must be in great power! I salute and congratulate you.
Often you speak of digressions, but here I will greatly veer to a topic you would never imagine: us. It has come to my attention that we have been in acquaintance over three months now. When I think of it, I am shocked. It seems as if I have known you for much longer than that; surely it must be three years. When I receive one of your letters, my day is instantly cheered, there is no doubt of it. I see the great care you take in your penmanship and I am greatly appreciative of the axioms you include next to your name as steadfast reminders. It is what inspired me to do the same for your letters.
Ivan Braginski
*
Comrade,
As you might expect, I am extremely gratified by your words. I trust you when it comes to such matter because I don't think you are the type to spew them out on command. You have a high sense of morality and citizenship, and I attempt to emulate it in as best of an impression as I may.
Ah, it is true then. I was not entirely certain of your family background, but now knowing the entirely story, I evermore applaud you for your upstanding behavior and for having the dignity to cleanse your family name and to provide for your younger sister a good example, which she will surely follow. How old is she? Perhaps she is the same age as Xia, my sister, who just passed her eleventh year. She has clear skin and lush eyes. When she was younger, I used to brush her hair one hundred strokes before putting her to sleep. But since we have cut it, she no longer requires me of the service and her hair has turned rough and proletarian. Looking at her, I see a hopeful and committed youth. Her eyes are not dulled, but bright with recognition and empathy for the future, unlike my youngest brother. Since I last wrote to you, he was caught with a girl, a teacher's daughter. A complete disgrace. I do not know why my father and mother have yet to disown him, but perhaps they know something that I do not. In any case, I do not question their decision even if I do not agree with it. My next brother tends to his wound and they share secrets after dinnertime. I am suspicious but I will not report them for now.
the flowers won't bloom 'till spring [4/5]
anonymous
December 3 2010, 02:45:02 UTC
My hands are cold, but they have been warmed by your words! I feel as if I can continue to walk on. Any day now I will be again promoted. I hope to soon work for a sub-chairman's committee. From there-well, I haven't thought so far yet. Sincerely,
Comrade Wang Yao
*
First of all, Comrade,
I apologize for the long duration for which it took me to write this letter. Circumstances have been particularly difficult. I believe I once told you of my elder sister, Katyusha. Her husband had passed away of fever and we have been in mourning. My sister has also moved in with us, so now we are three siblings living in close quarters. On one hand I am happy that we are reunited; on another, it makes for less space and, dare I say, more tension.
My sister Natalia is in her twelfth year, but she is often sickly. I know why. I have scarcely enough nutrition for myself, let alone a frail sister. I feed her what I can but even then it is hard for me to watch her cry in her sleep and beg for food. But I know her. She will never beg for food in the street and she will never degrade herself to selling herself for a night's rest. I have instilled in her the very morals that you and I stand for, Comrade. Still, I feel very sad for her.
Katyusha tries to help us out. She has taken on a job but it pays poorly since she has no record and therefore no recommendations. Even my word is not enough, but this just goes to show that every man is paid by his worth, not by the word of someone else. This is a system which I wholeheartedly support and Katyusha will prove herself with time.
This letter has been all about my sisters, forgive me. They are all I think of. When I think of the days my mother used to tell me about; having enough food to eat and having servants to take care of the cold morning chores. Just thinking of what was and what I have now . . . no, it cannot be. They were the bourgeois, they were the ones who controlled, I can't stand them. I would cross all of this out but I think I will leave it in and if you think it necessary to admonish me then I will take it, and thank you.
Ivan Braginski
*
Out of wholesome and ideological concern, I have enclosed my personal copy of the Chairman's teachings. There is no need to send it back to me. Read it, learn it, understand it.
Comrade Wang Yao
*
I hope you are not upset with me, Comrade. But I thank you, for criticism "is central to Party improvement; [and] as such, communists must not fear it, but engage in it openly". It was right of you to tell me so. My lapses have been noted and carved on my skin as an eternal reminder.
Ivan
postscript: My sister Natalia, do you remember her? I mentioned your sister, Xia, to her, and she asked me to convey her salutations. Please do carry them on.
*
Comrade,
Xia, too, returns her salutations to your sister Natalia. She asked me, first, who Natalia was and what she looked like. When I told her she was your sister, she immediately brightened up and said, "Oh it must be a good person then! If Brother knows who she is."
the flowers won't bloom 'till spring [5/5]
anonymous
December 3 2010, 02:49:48 UTC
Yesterday the clouds came overhead and did not leave for many hours. The streets are dark and everyone stays up because of the work we must complete before the end of the year. All my thoughts are of the Chairman. I wonder what he, the esteemed leader, plans for us before the new year comes upon us. Father has been ill and unable to work for the past three weeks. He has a cough that refuses to relinquish him and he is often in delirium. My mother tends to him and has even taken time off to do so. I cannot bear to think what stain this leaves on our family records but it is for the best. Father's been with the Party longer than I can remember. It was how my mother met him; they were both party members and my father was my mother's student leader.
I have been working hard so it hurts to write. My ink is drying out and the red lines on my hand are drying out as well. I won't be able to send this off until after the new year's, because everyone has been given a break. So until then, this will rest in my room, on my bed, under my pillow. Only at night do I allow a single thought of you to appear in my mind. It happens but for a moment and I imagine us meeting, whether in Moscow or Shanghai or Hunan or Beijing. In any case, it is somewhere, I dare to dream.
Comrade Wang Yao
*
Happy New Year, Comrade!
Your poignant thoughts at the end of your last letter almost brought me to tears. Katyusha had been cleaning when she caught notice of my slightly wet eyes. She asked me what was the matter with me but I only shook my head. I felt so happy.
It has occurred to me that lately, it has been difficult for me to feel happiness. Readily I admit that the morning training and recitations always bring my spirits up, but I wonder if that can be equated to happiness. If the meaning of life were a matter of calculus, then I think it would manifest in an optimization problem; optimizing happiness to solve the question of life. My studies, as you might have been able to tell, are carrying over into my daily life as well. I think in the principles of calculus and apply the physical components to my regiment's work. Isn't that funny?
But this is all very trivial in comparison to how I first began this letter. Comrade, I cannot betray to you how eternally grateful I am for your correspondence and how much I look forward to reading your words. I read your letters so many times that I memorize them, and I have kept them all in a compartment in my small room. No one is allowed to touch my compartment because that is how dear your letters are to me. Even to Natalia and Katyusha, I cannot show, and they are all the blood and kin I have in this lonesome world. I might wish that Natalia could grow up in better circumstances than the ones we are in at present but I do not pin my hopes on such intangibles.
Oh, a man is knocking at my door (which is the reason for the scribbled and jumbled nature of this letter) and he appears to be an officer. I cannot imagine what he is here for but Katyusha has showed him in. She is calling for me. I had been planning on dispatching this today but I may have to delay that. Perhaps there will be time to drop this off before the postman clocks out at work.
Oh wow, this is such a lovely take on the prompt, and felt very authentic and well researched. The implementation of their family members shone, really, and the only possible complaint I could make was how I'd love to see more XD ♥
Thank you for filling my prompt so well, filler!anon ♥
Re: the flowers won't bloom 'till spring [5/5]
anonymous
December 10 2010, 16:06:28 UTC
=OOOO I am in deep awe! The research on this is amazing, and what's even better is that I just took a class on China in Revolution so I understand what's going on! This ChineseHistory!Anon loves you for your amazing work!
DECADES ago, in the era of the "cultural revolution" (1966-1976), love and marriage bore a heavy political burden; the little red book (Quotations of Chairman Mao) was presented in place of a wedding band, or generally served as a token of love and engagement. Imagine how outlandish it seems to young people today to read love letters that pine: "I hope you can arrange your work, study and life well, so as to sustain your ideals and revolutionary zeal, and not degrade into an uncouth and lowly person." But such sentiments were typical 40 years ago in decent young men and women, who often delivered revolutionary pep talks instead of whispering "sweet nothings."
http://www.chinatoday.com.cn/ctenglish/se/txt/2009-09/28/content_220425.htm
A communist love affair (or marriage of convenience, if you prefer.) Love letters filled with communist proletarian didactic; spouting Marxisms and Maoisms; fighting the evils of bourgeois capitalism together.
Bonuses:
-referring to each other as "comrade" as the closest thing they get to a pet name. (Comrade is slang for homosexual in China nowadays.)
-yandere!China and the breakdown of the cultural revolution
Reply
Comrade,
Yesterday, Mother told us to cut our hair. For the longest time it has not been seemly to appear with long hair, seeing as how it is a reminder of the bourgeois and their imperialistic tendencies. I have always been attached to my hair, for slightly sentimental reasons, I will admit. It is frivolous of me. Suddenly realizing this, I felt shameful of myself and I snatched the dull blade from my sister and my long hair is no more. All the students share this style; short and simple. It is rather the fashion nowadays. Is it like that in Moscow, also? Do the boys and girls shear their hair to relinquish all sense of vanity? There is a certain liberation present in the action, and I would not hesitate to suggest the same to you. Has your hair grown longer? If it has, please cut it.
It has been a long time since I last saw you, after all. I haven't forgotten you, of course, but it has been so busy and I was recently promoted. My day grows longer and the workload doubles, as do the responsibilities. I am so busy that I almost fell asleep in the midst of work today. My boss yelled at me and threw two sharp rocks at my face to wake me up. It was deserved, I assure you. Now there is a red scratch as a reminder, and I have been properly punished.
Work here in our student's association starts early before the sun rises and ends after dark. My sister is still too young for membership though she yearns to be part of our movement. I'm proud of her sincerity and I am proud that she is so full of enthusiasm, something only must be bred from a young age; or else, any chance of indoctrination is lost. The younger of my two brothers is one prime example. He is a complete failure. He sleeps without remorse and he shows utterly no decorum in public. It is bad luck for our family. Mother has admonished him several times, to no avail. He insists on acting "as he desires" and yet, none of these desires are in accordance with Chairman Mao's teachings. He wears his hair long and there is always a strand that refuses to sit flat. It drives Father insane and it makes Mother cry. Sometimes, he talks of running away or marrying a Westerner and then running away. He talks about America and being free, as if he is not already fed three times a day and given a steady job with a good pay. He says these shocking things constantly without thinking and Father beats him for it. He says if he does not watch himself, he will be sent to prison. My brother retorts, "Let them try." Perhaps I will ask sister to talk to him in private; of my siblings, they share the closest relationship and my sister has always been fond of her older brother.
I hope you will take time to reply to this letter. Forgive me for the digression at the end, I don't know what came over me. Tell me what it's like in Moscow right now. It will be October when this flimsy letter reaches you. Tell me, when does it start to snow?
Sincerely,
Comrade Wang Yao
*
Comrade!
I am hopeful that the next time you belatedly inform me of such a drastic action (cutting your hair, really!), you will provide photographic evidence. I will miss your fine, long hair but I am certain your new look is just as befitting of the proper young man whom you so embody. Until then, I shall cherish my imagined perception of you and I will dream of a day when we will again meet.
Reply
No, I kid, and it was a bad joke. I know you could never leave you family, you are too honorable and that is what I admire about you, Comrade. Thus, in lieu, we share a correspondence that I must cut short for today. My sister is calling me for help with our daily chores and she always spills the water for washing.
Ivan Braginski
*
Comrade,
Last week, I spoke briefly to an official and, taking heed of your word, I mentioned of a relation I had in Moscow. The official immediately took notice and noted that it was a very good thing to be sent over for higher education. "Finishing your re-education," was how he put it. He mentioned the Moscow Sun Yat-sen University because that is where he had been educated but if I recall correctly, the university is no longer enrolling? I find it a pity. Although I firmly believe that my place is here, in Shanghai, it would be greatly beneficial to observe the system of Marxism-Leninism in a metropolitan such as Moscow. So let it be known that I have remembered you and kept you in mind.
Since I last cut my hair, as I informed you, I have further styled it in the way of the young men of today. I fear that if I sent you a photograph, I would be unrecognizable, so I will allow you to think of me as you will. My sister (her name is Xia) cut it for me. She is very good with her hands. Every day, she is proving to be more and more capable. Although young and on the smaller side, she makes up for it in an abundance of enthusiasm and dedication. She does her recitations every morning and is able to out-quote the elder of my two brothers, which thoroughly shames him. However, because he is a hard-working youth himself, he promptly congratulated her and promised that he would push himself harder than ever.
I often speak of my family. I hope that does not bother you, but I feel that my family is a better representative of who I am than myself. I know that if any of my family relatives were to suffer an atrocity I would be burdened with grief and sorrow and rendered incapable of serving my party.
If my speaking of them ever bores you, let me know immediately and I will cease the matter. I will try and think of other things to speak of though there is distressingly little. I am certain my work would not make for good letter material and I fear (and have no desire) to appear uncouth or lowly. We must strive to never let ourselves drop so low into the abyss of shame.
Sincerely,
Comrade Wang Yao
Reply
As for myself, I am happy when I see you detail the (mis)adventures of your family. You are most fortunate to have, for the most part, an understanding and model family. I, too, mourn for your brother and I hope he will see the error of his ways before it is too late. As for myself, my family is small. My Natalia is still too young to fend for herself or truly comprehend her position. My elder sister is wed and she no longer lives near me, and I rarely see her. Have I told you of my family before? My mother is dead and my father was a political prisoner many years ago for terrible, terrible crimes. It was early in the era of the Republic and he had some unsavory ties the extent of which I am not entirely aware. In any case, I have since proven myself as a capable student, good enough to lead a small unit of students. Our unit is one of many in our association, so if you are at the forefront of yours, then you certainly must be in great power! I salute and congratulate you.
Often you speak of digressions, but here I will greatly veer to a topic you would never imagine: us. It has come to my attention that we have been in acquaintance over three months now. When I think of it, I am shocked. It seems as if I have known you for much longer than that; surely it must be three years. When I receive one of your letters, my day is instantly cheered, there is no doubt of it. I see the great care you take in your penmanship and I am greatly appreciative of the axioms you include next to your name as steadfast reminders. It is what inspired me to do the same for your letters.
Ivan Braginski
*
Comrade,
As you might expect, I am extremely gratified by your words. I trust you when it comes to such matter because I don't think you are the type to spew them out on command. You have a high sense of morality and citizenship, and I attempt to emulate it in as best of an impression as I may.
Ah, it is true then. I was not entirely certain of your family background, but now knowing the entirely story, I evermore applaud you for your upstanding behavior and for having the dignity to cleanse your family name and to provide for your younger sister a good example, which she will surely follow. How old is she? Perhaps she is the same age as Xia, my sister, who just passed her eleventh year. She has clear skin and lush eyes. When she was younger, I used to brush her hair one hundred strokes before putting her to sleep. But since we have cut it, she no longer requires me of the service and her hair has turned rough and proletarian. Looking at her, I see a hopeful and committed youth. Her eyes are not dulled, but bright with recognition and empathy for the future, unlike my youngest brother. Since I last wrote to you, he was caught with a girl, a teacher's daughter. A complete disgrace. I do not know why my father and mother have yet to disown him, but perhaps they know something that I do not. In any case, I do not question their decision even if I do not agree with it. My next brother tends to his wound and they share secrets after dinnertime. I am suspicious but I will not report them for now.
Reply
Sincerely,
Comrade Wang Yao
*
First of all, Comrade,
I apologize for the long duration for which it took me to write this letter. Circumstances have been particularly difficult. I believe I once told you of my elder sister, Katyusha. Her husband had passed away of fever and we have been in mourning. My sister has also moved in with us, so now we are three siblings living in close quarters. On one hand I am happy that we are reunited; on another, it makes for less space and, dare I say, more tension.
My sister Natalia is in her twelfth year, but she is often sickly. I know why. I have scarcely enough nutrition for myself, let alone a frail sister. I feed her what I can but even then it is hard for me to watch her cry in her sleep and beg for food. But I know her. She will never beg for food in the street and she will never degrade herself to selling herself for a night's rest. I have instilled in her the very morals that you and I stand for, Comrade. Still, I feel very sad for her.
Katyusha tries to help us out. She has taken on a job but it pays poorly since she has no record and therefore no recommendations. Even my word is not enough, but this just goes to show that every man is paid by his worth, not by the word of someone else. This is a system which I wholeheartedly support and Katyusha will prove herself with time.
This letter has been all about my sisters, forgive me. They are all I think of. When I think of the days my mother used to tell me about; having enough food to eat and having servants to take care of the cold morning chores. Just thinking of what was and what I have now . . . no, it cannot be. They were the bourgeois, they were the ones who controlled, I can't stand them. I would cross all of this out but I think I will leave it in and if you think it necessary to admonish me then I will take it, and thank you.
Ivan Braginski
*
Out of wholesome and ideological concern, I have enclosed my personal copy of the Chairman's teachings. There is no need to send it back to me. Read it, learn it, understand it.
Comrade Wang Yao
*
I hope you are not upset with me, Comrade. But I thank you, for criticism "is central to Party improvement; [and] as such, communists must not fear it, but engage in it openly". It was right of you to tell me so. My lapses have been noted and carved on my skin as an eternal reminder.
Ivan
postscript: My sister Natalia, do you remember her? I mentioned your sister, Xia, to her, and she asked me to convey her salutations. Please do carry them on.
*
Comrade,
Xia, too, returns her salutations to your sister Natalia. She asked me, first, who Natalia was and what she looked like. When I told her she was your sister, she immediately brightened up and said, "Oh it must be a good person then! If Brother knows who she is."
Reply
I have been working hard so it hurts to write. My ink is drying out and the red lines on my hand are drying out as well. I won't be able to send this off until after the new year's, because everyone has been given a break. So until then, this will rest in my room, on my bed, under my pillow. Only at night do I allow a single thought of you to appear in my mind. It happens but for a moment and I imagine us meeting, whether in Moscow or Shanghai or Hunan or Beijing. In any case, it is somewhere, I dare to dream.
Comrade Wang Yao
*
Happy New Year, Comrade!
Your poignant thoughts at the end of your last letter almost brought me to tears. Katyusha had been cleaning when she caught notice of my slightly wet eyes. She asked me what was the matter with me but I only shook my head. I felt so happy.
It has occurred to me that lately, it has been difficult for me to feel happiness. Readily I admit that the morning training and recitations always bring my spirits up, but I wonder if that can be equated to happiness. If the meaning of life were a matter of calculus, then I think it would manifest in an optimization problem; optimizing happiness to solve the question of life. My studies, as you might have been able to tell, are carrying over into my daily life as well. I think in the principles of calculus and apply the physical components to my regiment's work. Isn't that funny?
But this is all very trivial in comparison to how I first began this letter. Comrade, I cannot betray to you how eternally grateful I am for your correspondence and how much I look forward to reading your words. I read your letters so many times that I memorize them, and I have kept them all in a compartment in my small room. No one is allowed to touch my compartment because that is how dear your letters are to me. Even to Natalia and Katyusha, I cannot show, and they are all the blood and kin I have in this lonesome world. I might wish that Natalia could grow up in better circumstances than the ones we are in at present but I do not pin my hopes on such intangibles.
Oh, a man is knocking at my door (which is the reason for the scribbled and jumbled nature of this letter) and he appears to be an officer. I cannot imagine what he is here for but Katyusha has showed him in. She is calling for me. I had been planning on dispatching this today but I may have to delay that. Perhaps there will be time to drop this off before the postman clocks out at work.
Iva-
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This was really well written. :D Like, the old, polite way of saying things was pretty much perfect, anon.
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Thank you for filling my prompt so well, filler!anon ♥
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