Bernadette had been dressed
from the heart of the Kremlin since the day she opened her eyes. And to decide
what her clothes would be, her keepers would watch her eyes every minute of the
day. If her eyes lingered on the night sky, dark velvets with embroidered
silver points would be her next gown. If she waved her little fists excitedly
at the sound of rustling leaves her next little cape would be the finest,
starched cotton chintz. Her debutante ball gown was the result of observing her
adolescent joy at the finest spiders’ webs. (Needless to say, this dress was
banned by her mother and replaced with a dress inspired, instead, by
Bernadette’s secret fascination with monasticism.) The point is that it was Bernadette’s
data, the information about her behaviour provided by none other than herself,
which was closely watched and cleverly employed by the Kremlin. This, of
course, secured her commitments to, originally, Russia and, later on, the
Russian Federation. She was a national treasure.
When Bernadette came
of age she was told a heart breaking story. Her mother, prodigious scholar and
inimitable sage, having long resented the social frippery and popularity of
Bernadette’s father, was determined to turn their daughter against him. So,
when Bernadette discovered one day, to her horror, that everything she thought
was private about herself, had in fact been used like a commodity, her mother
seized the moment. Bernadette falling at her mother’s knee, her body wracked by
tears, wailing loudly that she hated the Kremlin and the Kremlin’s enemies
alike, was then told the following tale.
Facebook was a wonderful
story book, written by its own readers about themselves, started her mother.
One day there was upset about the readers’ stories in Facebook being used to
further the political aims of The Great Tzar. But, as Bernadette’s mother
reminded her, all the readers knew already that Facebook mined their stories to
make a great big, Uber story told to all the other readers. So, it should not
have been surprising that The Great Tzar might get hold of it to use for his
own ends. It is, after all, useful to know what one’s subjects think, is it
not? It is useful to know what another’s subjects think. Are they plotting
revolution? And it is particularly useful to be able to influence all of them.
Her mother suggested
that Bernadette’s horror at the Tzar’s mining of her story as opposed to
Facebook’s mining of it is, of course, because of the human intent behind the Tzar’s
mining and the ends for which it was used. It is one thing when an inanimate
thing like a story book uses its own stories to suggest beautiful fabrics, pretty
chandeliers and new friends to its readers and writers. It is quite another when
an outsider’s mind, free and with its own motives and will, uses these stories
to win political favour. Bernadette’s mother cautioned that, like her father, her
fickle and social ways, her desire to have many friends, would always lead to compromise.
Her story will always simply be fodder for another’s aims.
Do only Tzars from
the Kremlin do such evil things, asked Bernadette, drying her tear stained face
on her Vyatka lace cuffs. Her mother, a committed nationalist, patriot and,
eventually, comrade, caressing Bernadette’s dark hair, assured her this was not
the case. Their Tzar is certainly not the only one doing this. Nor is he the
only one fabricating reasons for warring in other people’s countries. Nor is he
the only one getting in, and staying in power, on the whiff of the strange new
fangled idea of democratic election. Nor is his inconvenient election by his
people the first to be called corrupted by the West. No, says the scholar and
sage, the Russian Tzar has given the Russian people a name again. And this name
is a strong and uncompromising Russian one, not an adoptive Western one. It is
one which falls easily off the Russian tongue. The moral of the tale was not meant
for the Tzar, it was meant for Bernadette, warns her mother. Do not bare your
soul and then be surprised when it is scrutinised. Zazdarovje!
Important notice: The Glenwood Restaurant
will be cooking, on the odd occasion, at The Glenwood Bakery from after the
restaurant’s closing date on the 19th of May 2018. If you are keen
to be kept in the loop about such events, by email as opposed to by Facebook,
please send your email address to carin.b.robinson@gmail.com
