Font: My belovèd Palatino, of course!
Personal experience: Used almost completely exclusively since late September ’93. The ’93 Mac didn’t have Bookman, so I chose what looked like the next-closest thing. It’s been my font soulmate ever since.
Chapter: “Paternity Warfare”
Book: You Cannot Kill a Swan: The Love Story of Lyuba and Ivan
Written: 1998 or 1999
Computer created on: I think it was the ’96 or ’97 Mac we had.
File format: ClarisWorks
This is Chapter 15 of my first Russian historical novel, my favorite chapter and also the shortest, in only the upper 4000s. (By my standards, short=lower 4000s/upper 5000s, midrange=7000s/8000s, long=10,000+.) Though I lost all my formatting when I finally was able to open and convert these old files, I still remembered that certain parts of Ivan’s dialogue were in bold italics. He was that livid when Boris popped in on his second illegal visit home, trying to steal Tatyana.
There’s no contest as to Tatyana’s paternity, as Ivan is a virgin till September 1921, when he’s 23 years old, and Tatyana was conceived in April 1918. But Ivan is the man who’s raised her since the night she was born. Boris abandoned Lyuba shortly before she went into active labor, and was beating her constantly during the pregnancy. Tatyana was really the result of a rape, though Lyuba doesn’t like to think of it in those terms since Boris didn’t hold her up at knifepoint and wasn’t a stranger. Off-screen, so to speak, Boris got Lyuba drunk and drugged when it became clear she didn’t want to be intimate, and the next morning she woke up naked next to Boris, with a massive headache and blood running down her legs.
During this chapter, Lyuba is in town working at the Godunov cousins’ brothel, and has left Tatyana in the care of the man she considers her father, Ivan. Ivan isn’t having any of it when Boris shows up in the middle of the night.
The croup remedy Ivan uses to help Tatyana was something I learnt from the Spanish professor I had at community college.
Eliisabet drops her fork. “Holy Mother of God, I knew there was some secret reason why she kept insisting she couldn’t be with you and had to stay with Borís! She talked in vague generalities about being afraid of staying with a nice guy, but I never dreamt it was anywhere in that perverted league! No wonder she feels more familiar with being abused and disrespected by men!”
“I don’t know how to do that!” Iván carries her outside to the outhouse, unpins the diaper, and sets her down on the hole in the ground.
“You don’t need to wear winter gloves. It’s not like you’ll get Bubonic Plague from changing a diaper!” Kat laughs.
It is all falling apart. Iván has never gone long without a woman to take care of him. He suffers through two more diaper changes, three naps, and two more feedings before he sets Tatyana down in the crib for the night, only to be jerked awake at two in the morning by her croup. Cursing to himself, he grabs her and dashes into the bathroom to turn the shower on. He’s hardly thrilled when it comes back again the next night. He sits on the floor with her and cries for two hours.
Iván turns white in fury. “You! Who gave you permission to enter this house! You dared to come back here illegally a second time! This is my child! You abandoned her before she was born! Get the hell out!” He sets Tatyana down on the floor as soon as she starts breathing normally again and storms toward Borís, hitting him with the back of his hand.
“This bastard Borís has come back to wreck more havoc in our lives!” Iván gives his former best friend a push backwards down the stairs. “Get the hell out of this house before I kill you, you dryan, you súkin syn, you worthless piece of govnó!”
“You see what you did?” Iván scoops her up and rocks her back and forth. “It’ll all be over soon, my precious little tsarévna. Just as soon as that man gets out of this house. He wants to take you away from me, but there’s no way in the world I would ever give my angelic little girl away to anybody!”
By now Iván has grabbed Borís by the throat and is banging his head against the floor, ignoring his gasps for breath. The other people in the band have come running from their beds by now to see what the noise is all about.
Borís looks at Tatyana with tears in his eyes. “You can always go to bed with Lyuba and get her pregnant, and then you’ll have a child of your own! Let me have my child! You can even have five or six kids with her, just give me back my child!”
Blushing, Borís turns away and heads back for the abandoned resort where he’s been staying. He chokes ahead of time on the stench of beer, wine, vomit, urine, govnó, and blood that’ll be sure to greet him once he enters the old resort where bands of wild children and their older counterparts are staying, stacked up like sardines, and always afraid to leave anything unattended, for fear of it being stolen by an unscrupulous bandmember.