Famous surnames (intentional) in my Russian historicals, continued

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Tvardovskiy, Lyuba and Ivan’s friend Aleksey. In America, he changes the spelling to Tvardovsky. His surname was originally Trotskiy, which really only has one association. I don’t see it as a bad association, but it’s not one of those famous names (e.g., Lennon, Jackson) that feels believable on a non-famous person.

The replacement not only has a similar sound, but was also the surname of literary magazine Noviy Mir‘s chief editor, Aleksandr Trofimovich (1910–71). Under his tutelage, the magazine published a lot of things butting up against the Party line.

Teglyov, Lyuba and Ivan’s friend Pavel, who saves their daughter Tatyana’s life when villain Misha Godunov throws her in the Skhodnya River as a baby. This is a character in Turgenev’s story “Knock, Knock, Knock.”

Premier Brezhnev (1906–82) in 1943

Brezhneva, curmudgeonly orphanage mother in Kyiv. Mrs. Brezhneva is so fun to write, because she’s so predictable, while also demonstrating slow but steady emotional growth. As loath as she is to admit it, she grows to deeply care for co-director and former orphanage girl Inna, as well as Inna’s children and the children of the other now-adult orphanage girls who also defected to Iran. Leonid Ilyich Brezhnev was Soviet Premier from 1964–82.

Andropov, a boardinghouse manager who appears in the first book. Yuriy Vladimirovich Andropov was Soviet Premier from November 1982–February 1984.

Yavlinskiy, a doctor who treats Ivan’s broken arm in the first book, and lets Lyuba, Ivan, Ginny, and Tatyana hide in his clinic for two weeks. Grigoriy Alekseyevich Yavlinskiy founded social-liberal party Yabloko (Apple), and came in fourth in the 1996 presidential election.

Grigoriy A. Yavlinskiy (born 1952), Copyright Бахтиёр Абдуллаев (Bakhtiyor Abdullayev)

Kerenskaya, orphanage girl Olga, who’s later adopted by Inessa’s Dyadya (Uncle) Dima and marries Inessa’s cousin Rustam. She’s eight months pregnant when she wades across the creek-like River Bug to Poland in 1937. Shortly after her arrival in America, she gives birth to her first child. In 1945, her family and Inessa’s family move to Staten Island.

Aleksandr Fyodorovich Kerenskiy (1881–1970) was a prominent politician during the short-lived Provisional Government of 1917, and the leader of Russia from July–November 1917. He narrowly escaped after the Bolshevik takeover, and settled in France. After the Nazi invasion, he immigrated to the U.S.

Aleksandr F. Kerenskiy

Kuchma, Ukrainian orphanage girl Valentina, another of the girls adopted by Dyadya Dima. She becomes very close to Inessa after they’re mistakenly sent to another orphanage, which influences Inessa to beg Dyadya Dima to adopt a little girl too. It means so much to Valentina to have a family again, and that Dyadya Dima respects her origins so much he tells her to never change her name, forget her native language, or call him Tata.

Leonid Danylovych Kuchma (born 1938) was Ukraine’s second president, 1994–2005.

Kwasniewska, Polish-born orphanage girl Zofia, also adopted by Dyadya Dima. She moves home to Poland as an adult, and ends up at the same rocket-making forced labour factory as Darya and Oliivia in the third book. Zofia survives Mauthausen with them too. She’s reunited with her three children after the war, and they’re given permission to join their family in America. Aleksander Kwaśniewski (born 1954) was President of Poland from 1995–2005.

Iosif Brodskiy (Joseph Brodsky)

Brodskaya, orphanage girl Irina, who appears in the first two books. Iosif Aleksandrovich Brodskiy (1940–1996) was persecuted, twice put in a mental hospital, put on trial, and sentenced to five years of hard labour (of which he served 18 months) for his “anti-Soviet” poetry. In 1972, he was forced into exile, and in 1987, he won the Nobel Prize for Literature.

Rutskoy, a false name Boris gives Aleksey and Eliisabet when deserting Bolshevik soldiers pay a housecall in autumn 1917. Aleksandr Vladimirovich Rutskoy (born 1947) was Russia’s only Vice President, 1991–93. During the violent constitutional crisis of ’93, he was proclaimed Acting President. He remains active in politics.

Andrey A. Voznesenskiy, 1933–2010, Kremlin.ru

Voznesenskaya, a deranged, sadistic orphanage warden in Petrograd, who gets her just desserts near the end of Part I of the first book. Andrey Andreyevich Voznesenskiy (whose surname means “ascension”) was an amazing poet I highly recommend.

To be continued.

Queens Village and the qalam

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Copyright Metropolitan Transportation Authority of the State of New York; Source

Queens Village is a very spacious, green, suburban neighborhood in eastern Queens. It started life as Little Plains in the 1640s, and then became known as Brushville in the 1820s, after prosperous resident Thomas Brush.

Mr. Brush put down roots in the neighborhood with a blacksmith shop in 1824, and after achieving great financial success, he built a factory and a few other shops.

The first railway came on 1 March 1837.

St. Joseph’s Episcopal Church

In 1856, residents voted to change the neighborhood’s name to Queens, but both the neighborhood and depot were called Inglewood and Queens during the 1860s and 1870s. The former name Brushville also continued to be used.

When the borough of Queens was incorporated into NYC in 1898, and Nassau County was created in 1899, the border between them was designated directly east of the neighborhood. By at least 1901, the name Queens Village had arisen.

The Long Island village of Lloyd Harbor, formerly in Queens County but now in Suffolk County, was called Queens Village from 1685–1883. In 1923, Long Island Railroad added “Village” to the Queens neighborhood’s station’s name to avoid confusion with Queens County as a whole.

193rd St. war memorial

Queens Village contains the sub-neighborhoods of Hollis Hills (a very wealthy area) and Bellaire (the largest section of the neighborhood).

Many people seeking a suburban lifestyle and fleeing the congestion of Manhattan came to Queens Village starting in the 1920s. A great many of the Tudor and Dutch Colonial homes built during this era still stand, and attract a new generation of people wanting a slower, less crowded lifestyle.

Queens Village LIRR Station, Copyright Metropolitan Transportation Authority of the State of New York; Source

Like many other NYC neighborhoods, Queens Village too once had a large, thriving Jewish community, but today the population mainly consists of African–Americans, Caribbeans, Guyanese, Filipinos, Asian Indians, Jamaicans, and Hispanics.

Recent demographic developments include an increased amount of Asian–Americans and Middle Eastern Jews.

Southbound view of LIRR bridge over Springfield Blvd. and the Hempstead-bound platform at Queens Village station, Copyright DanTD

Landmarks include American Martyrs Catholic Church, Chapel of the Redeemer Lutheran, Hollis Hills Jewish Center, and the Windsor Park Branch of the Queens Borough Public Library. Nearby are Alley Pond Park, Cunningham Park, and Long Island Motor Parkway.

Remnant of Long Island Motor Parkway, Copyright Nowa at English Wikipedia

My characters Rodya Duranichev, Valentina Kuchma, Patya Siyanchuk, and Vladlena Zyuganova move from Manhattan to Queens Village with their children in the late summer of 1945. Both Valentina and Vladlena are expecting again, and they want a fresh new life in a more spacious corner of the city, with detached houses and yards.

Their children are delighted to discover each house has a pool in the backyard, though Patya is less than delighted to discover a little girl next door, Ruth Blumstein, thinks he’s a monster on account of his missing arm.

Copyright Aieman Khimji

qalam is a dried reed pen used for Islamic calligraphy, particularly creating those beautiful Persian and Arabic letters. It’s also a symbol of wisdom and education in the Koran. Sura 68 is called “Al-Qalam,” and describes Allah’s justice and the judgment day.

The etymology comes from the Greek kalamos (reed). In modern Arabic, Persian, Kurdish, and Turkish, it means “pencil” or “pen.” In Hindi, Urdu, and Bengali, it just means “pen.”

Copyright Baba66

My character Inna Zhirinovskaya receives, among many other things, a qalam set in a leather case for her 31st birthday in October 1937, a present from her admirer Arkasha Orlov (a prince by birth). They met in Aden in June, and Arkasha has been hopelessly smitten since then.

Arkasha gave her a lesson in Persian writing with a normal fountain pen a few weeks earlier, and Inna was mortified when she involuntarily gasped at the sensation of his hand over hers. She knows both Arkasha and her little brother Vitya heard that.

That night on the Siosepel Bridge, Inna agrees to be his sweetheart.

July 4th, 1938

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In case anyone is reading blogs today, here’s a holiday-themed excerpt. This is the third section of Chapter 43, “Tempting Fate,” of Journey Through a Dark Forest. Nineteen-year-old Tatyana has been living with her blood father Boris for the past year in Harlem, and hasn’t abated in the surly attitude she’s been copping towards her family since discovering the truth of her paternity. This is extremely hurtful to her little brother Fedya, but her attitude is staying put.

July-4th

On the Fourth of July, just as promised, Fedya and Novomira tag along to Rockaway Beach and Rockaways’ Playland.  Even if they had the sense not to stay at Boris’s house, they’re still doing a damn good job of being a thorn in Tatyana’s side during this weekend she was looking forward to so much.  The only moment of peace she’s gotten so far was yesterday at Gavrik’s baptism, and then Fedya and Novomira began tagging along with her friends all over again.  They’re even younger than Vasya and don’t belong in a group consisting of mostly university students.  Worse yet, her friends seem to like both of them, and Valentina, Rodya, and Vladlena in particular are fascinated by Fedya’s left-handedness.  Tatyana has been shown up by her own brother.

“I’d like to watch the local parade before we head to the beach or amusement park,” Novomira says as they board the subway.

“What for?” Tatyana snaps. “If you’ve seen one parade, you’ve seen them all.  Parades stopped being interesting after I passed the age of twelve.  They’re boring, hot, and require too much standing in a crowd.  And there are all the whining, screaming children.”

“Don’t you work with children?” Fedya asks. “And I presume you’d like your own kids someday.”

“Our children at camp are well-behaved, and know not to throw tantrums or do whatever they want.  I don’t like dealing with other people’s brats.”

“We can always find a stoop to sit on, or I can rent some folding chairs,” Nikolay suggests. “It’s been awhile since Mira and Fedya have seen a really big parade.  Minnesota can’t compare with the big city.  Valya and Vladka have never seen a Fourth of July parade.  I’d hate to have them miss out during their first July Fourth.”

Tatyana has a seat and crosses her arms tightly, keeping a firm hold on her ocelots’ leashes.

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“I’m most looking forward to the fireworks tonight,” Valentina says. “We didn’t have them very often in Minsk.”

“What’s a Fourth of July parade like?” Vladlena asks. “We had lots of parades back home, but they were more like political inspiration than entertainment.  They were held in honor of important national holidays and heroes.  I don’t know if many civilians could take part other than for something like music or a special exhibit a school made.”

“They’re kind of boring once you’ve seen a few,” Tatyana repeats. “A bunch of floats, loud brass music, people in costumes, flags, balloons, that sort of thing.  Some of the people marching or on the floats toss candy and other trinkets.  It’s a little like Macy’s Thanksgiving parade, only now the weather is nice enough to watch it in person instead of hearing the radio broadcast.  I think July Fourth is best if you’re a little kid and don’t have the sense to be annoyed by mosquitoes, heat, crowds, and noise.”

“Not everyone feels the same way as you,” Nikolay warns. “You were behaving so well until our families came here.  I thought being away from them for so long would get you to see things differently and go back to your old sweet self.”

“I’d prefer if they’d continued leaving me alone.  I just know my stepfather planned his birthday party for New York just to irritate me and try to guilt me through these two.”

vintage-july-4-postcard

Fedya struggles to contain his hurt in front of these sophisticated older people. “You were always such a great big sister to me, and you liked Mira as well.  I had nothing to do with this coverup of your true paternity.  I didn’t even know about it until you did.  How can some one-sided letter from a known scoundrel magically erase all your love for your family and the man who raised you?”

“You’d feel the same way if you were the one who were lied to your entire life.  Thank God my real father is a modern, sensible person who approves of young ladies shaving their legs, wearing makeup, staying out late within reason, being alone with their steady beaux, and using perfume.  He’s not some overly moral plaster saint like your father.  That man needs to grow up and enter the twentieth century.  His rigid ideas of right and wrong are so Medieval.”

Nikolay is by now strongly convinced Tatyana’s rejection of Ivan and rather haughty, uncharacteristic behavior were caused by some petty teenage grievance against an old-world father with an admittedly very black and white view of the world.  She’s more dissatisfied with some of Boris’s behavior than she let onto their families.  He just needs to figure out a way to push her towards investigating their dubious benefactor’s past, coupled with some serious reflection on how she just gave up the loving father-daughter relationship she and Ivan enjoyed for eighteen years.  Tatyana surely realizes how rare it is for any man to raise another man’s baby as his own and marry a fallen woman with an illegitimate child.  Boris couldn’t even marry Lyuba after he got her in trouble.

kidfw7

Instead of heading right to the beach when the subway reaches Queens, their group sets off towards the main thoroughfare in search of a parade.  After a resident provides directions, Tatyana lags behind everyone and kicks at pebbles, refusing to talk to anyone.  Fedya and Novomira have a seat on the sidewalk, and Valentina and Vladlena find room on the cement stairs outside a bright green apartment.  Tatyana is the last one in their group to find a place to sit.

For the entire parade, Tatyana stares off into space and barely notices the loud music and cacophony of voices.  She barely even cares when some of the candy being thrown from floats lands near her.  Nikolay has to collect it for her.  After probably a good three hours, when the parade ends and the crowd breaks up, they finally start for the amusement park.

July-4-Vintage-Card

“Don’t be disappointed,” Rodya tells Valentina. “This place isn’t as big as Coney Island, but it’s still got some nice rides.  We’ll probably have fewer crowds, even if today’s a big holiday.  Everyone always heads for Coney Island.  Mostly only locals come here.”

“I like amusement parks no matter how small they are,” Valentina proclaims. “We’ll be back to work tomorrow, so we should enjoy the long vacation.”

“I wish I could enjoy the long weekend too,” Tatyana mumbles.

“Why are you acting like this?” Nikolay asks. “What have Mira and Fedya ever done to you to make you hate or resent them?  They’re just trying to have some fun in the big city, away from adults and children they don’t have much in common with.  We’re not that much older than they are.”

A sour feeling is in the pit of Tatyana’s stomach the entire time at the amusement park.  She doesn’t even snuggle up next to Nikolay in the rides, as the other three couples do.  The presence of her brother and his girlfriend has so perturbed her, she can’t relax and think of anything but how much she deeply resents their unwanted company.  Their time on the beach isn’t much better, though at least she has more privacy there and is able to sit and swim as far away from them as possible.

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“She’s really not like this normally,” Nikolay says in embarrassment on the subway home. “I don’t know why she’s acting like some spoilt child again all of a sudden.  She was doing so well this entire past year.”

“Does she really think we’re too young and stupid to buddy around with?” Novomira asks. “We used to be buddies.  I’m only two and a half years her junior, and Fedya’s not quite three and a half years her junior.  That’s not a really big age difference, since we grew up together.  It’s not like I’m some babyish ten-year-old tagging along with the sophisticated older kids.”

“It’s not that.  She’s just sorting out some confusion and annoyance with Dyadya Vanya.  I really think she’ll return to normal with a little more time, but I can’t force her to feel differently.  She probably does still love you deep down.  I’ve studied situations like this in some of my psychology and sociology classes.”

“Are you coming back to Minnesota when you graduate?” Fedya asks. “I don’t want to be joined at the hip with my family, but I always thought we’d have our own little farms on the same property.  It won’t feel right if you and Tanya stay in New York.  It still feels strange that my big sister isn’t around anymore.  Now she doesn’t even like me anymore, after how good she always was with me.”

“I’m going to start my own farm, even if I like big city life.  I doubt I could live here long-term.  It’s just not the type of life I could see for myself forever.  Tanya’s a farm girl at heart, even if she likes to give the impression of this important, modern, fashionable big city girl.  This is probably just a form of rebellion and trying on a new persona.  All perfectly normal.  So long as she figures out the right path before Malenkov reverts back to scoundrelhood, no one is really hurt that deeply.”

the-creepiest-fourth-of-july-card-ever-624x395

Once they’ve reached Central Park, Tatyana flings her blanket down and rubs lemongrass on her arms and legs to repel any mosquitoes.  She takes Nikolay’s hand and smiles at him, grateful Fedya and Novomira have the good sense to sit far away from them.

Fedya throws his arm around Novomira and stares up at the fireworks as they start. “What crawled down her throat and died?  She’s never had this kind of rude attitude as long as I can remember.  How can someone just go from nice to mean overnight?  Is she using drugs?”

“Kolya was saying something about her just rebelling to get some kind of taste of a different personality.  It’s some kind of concept from psychology.  Maybe she really did resent Dyadya Vanya for a long time, and then just went off on everyone after she found out another man’s her blood father.  I’ve never had much interest in copying moviestar fashions and modern American fads, but I’m sure my father would be understanding and accommodating of things like reasonable makeup and shorter skirts.  She does have a point about your father being pretty old-fashioned and having these really outdated ideas of how women should look and act.  Who knows why he picked Tyotya Lyuba, with her very modern views and tomboyish past.”

“I never really thought about that.  I just thought my father was really old-fashioned in some ways but modern and sensible in others.  He thinks girls should have a higher education, even if he’s horrified by things like women wearing pants and my mother working outside the house.  My mother, for all her modern ideas, still doesn’t wear makeup, high heels, or some of these modern fashions, and she only shaved her legs when she was working our last year in New York.  I wonder if my younger sisters will act like Tanya too, wanting to be these modern American girls.”

“My mother says I’m a nice blend of two worlds.  I like being a modern American, but I also like the Russian and Estonian parts of myself.  Maybe Tanya’s embarrassed because we’re not as modern or American as she’d like to be.”

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During the fireworks, Novomira leans against Fedya and occasionally runs her fingers along his left hand.  Though the bruises and rope burn left by Miss Cavendish disappeared years ago, she still remembers them, and wonders if his hand might have some invisible trauma still left in it.  Surely invisible wounds need tender loving care as much as physical wounds.  He needs all the love and affection possible, particularly now when he’s been rebuffed by the sister he always worshipped.

During the finale of green, silver, white, orange, and blue fireworks, Fedya leans over and kisses her.  Novomira smiles up at him and giggles.

“What was that for?”

“Just because I like you so much.  Now was as good a time as any.” He does it again, this time putting his hands around her shoulders.

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One blanket away, Valentina looks away jealously and ever so slightly edges away from Rodya.  As the fireworks die down, Rodya becomes aware of her muffled noises and quivering shoulders.

“Did something happen to you?” Rodya puts his hand on her shoulder. “You can tell me what’s wrong.  Are you worried about getting accepted to Barnard with less than perfect English?  That’s not the measure of your worth.”

“Do you really consider me your girlfriend, or am I more like a friend who just happens to be a woman?  Or are you just extremely old-fashioned?”

“Of course you’re my sweetheart.  Just because we’ve never had a private date doesn’t mean we’re not official.  It’s just easier to triple-date and go out as an octet.”

“Well, right now I don’t exactly feel like your real girlfriend.  Those two have only been going steady for about a month and a half, and they’re already doing more than just holding hands.  They’re younger than we are.  I thought everyone did that at our age and after five and a half months.”

Rodya looks quickly at Fedya and Novomira, then looks away in embarrassment. “Is that all you’re upset about?  I thought you liked that I respect you enough to not make unsolicited advances so soon.  You’re the sweetest girl I ever dated, not like some fast, loose woman who expects certain things by the third or even first date.”

“I’m not that old-fashioned.  I’m not some Victorian woman who expects a chaste courtship.  Why can’t we have a few private dates every now and then?  Just because Tanya doesn’t trust herself alone with her boyfriend doesn’t mean I’m that old-fashioned or incapable of self-control.”

Rodya slips his arm around her. “Didn’t you tell me you’d never had a boyfriend or even gone on a date before me?”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t make up for lost time now.  If you’ve already done that with previous dates and girlfriends, you shouldn’t be afraid to do it with me.”

“I like you more than any of the other girls I’ve ever dated.  I think I might even love you.” Rodya pulls her towards him and kisses her.

Valentina gazes up at him afterwards. “Was that so difficult?  You’re pretty good.”

“You taste sweet, like strawberries.  I’m glad you don’t wear makeup.  I don’t want lipstick rubbing off on me.”

“Can we practice doing that again?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

Valentina is only just starting to get the hang of it when she hears footsteps.  She abruptly pulls away from Rodya and hides her face in embarrassment at the sight of Patya and Vladlena.

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“All good things must come to an end,” Patya chides affectionately. “You can have your own private date on your own time.  We need to get home now.  Work starts at eight-thirty tomorrow.”

Rodya pulls Valentina up and walks her out to the Rochet-Schneider.  After the all-too-short drive home, he walks her up to the apartment via the fire escape and kisses her goodnight.  Valentina’s heart beats a little faster when she feels his hands wandering, though at least he’s keeping them above her clothes and not going below her waist.  Just as she’s tentatively starting to pet him back, the fire escape door swings open.

“I wondered what was taking you so long,” Inessa says. “You do know what that causes, don’t you?”

“He’s fine.” Valentina smoothes her blouse down, her heart still racing. “We were just making up for lost time.”

Rodya smiles at her as Inessa shuts the door in his face.

“Remember, self-control is very important for a woman,” Inessa says. “If you want to do more than neck and pet, you have to get married.  It’s too dangerous to risk going further without marriage.  These things happen, but you don’t want to get caught in a scandal unawares.  Make sure you set limits with him the next time that happens.  I don’t like the double standard and delayed gratification, but it is what it is.” She smiles devilishly. “But in the meantime, you’ve got two perfectly good hands.  No woman ever got pregnant by her own hand before.”

Horny Hump Day—Valentina and Rodya

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My What’s Up Wednesday post is here.

Warning:  Not safe for work or appropriate for those under 18!

Welcome back to Horny Hump Day, a weekly hop where writers share three erotic sentences of a book or WIP. My snippet this week, from my WIP, comes a few lines after last week’s. Rodya Duranichev, a veteran of the 2nd Division of the 6th Marines, has been honorably discharged and sent home after being wounded at both Saipan and Tinian. Even though his right arm is in a sling and cast, his wife Valentina is more than willing to give him a special welcome home.

He’s just told her to move up a little, since he can’t reach the rest of her body.

***

Valentína slides off her skirt and stockings, then moves forward, trembling.  Ródya tentatively ministers to her most sensitive flesh, careful not to be too rough or quick.  He finds it hard to believe anyone could seriously believe a woman’s intimate area is ugly and not fit for a decent husband to look upon or touch.

Horny Hump Day—Valentina and Rodya

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Happy International Left-Handedness Awareness Day!

My What’s Up Wednesday post is here.

Warning:  Not safe for work or appropriate for those under 18!

Welcome back to Horny Hump Day, a weekly hop where writers share three erotic sentences of a book or WIP. My snippet this week picks up right after last week’s, as Rodya Duranichev, a twice-wounded Marine, is welcomed home by his wife Valentina Kuchma.

Rodya was stabbed in his right shoulder by a sharpened bayonet at Saipan and again at Tinian, and has been honorably discharged due to the severity of his arm and shoulder injury. He’s come home with his arm in a cast and splint, which means Valentina has to be above him. She’s given him some wonderful services so far, but he doesn’t want to be the only one having fun.

***

To reward Valentína for such nice services, Ródya reverentially caresses her beautiful breasts with his good hand, savoring the view from below.  They look even bigger, and are even closer to him, with Valentína still on top of him.  Valentína closes her eyes and softly moans as his hand and mouth get reacquainted with them.