Dividing My Time

Day of Holy Baptism by the Apostolic Great Prince Vladimir as Basil /День равноапостольного великого князя Владимира, во святом крещении Василия (1015): Russia Goes Christian

“For on earth there is no such splendor or such beauty, and we are at a loss how to describe it.  We know only that God dwells there among men.”

~ Ambassadors of Grand Prince Vladimir to Greece as told in The Primary Chronicle,

Today, Russia inaugurated a new public holiday: commemorating the day in the 10th Century when Prince Vladimir of Kiev baptized the Russian people into the Greek Orthodox Church.  

Vladimir’s decision to convert earned him the title “Apostolic” or “Equal to the Apostles,” but in truth, his motives in joining one of the major world religions seem to have been as much political and strategic as spiritual.  In his choice of Eastern Orthodoxy, Vladimir set a cultural course for Russia, with profound political and geographic implications, which resonate today.

Vladimir was a pagan prince, the youngest – by some accounts the bastard -- son of the warrior Prince Sviatoslav: a ruler who spent his early reign consolidating Kiev as the center of power, by exploiting the petty feuds among the minor Varangian (Viking) princes.  He spent the latter half sparring with the Byzantine Greeks in the Crimea, achieving an uneasy peace by his death in 972.  Vladimir, for his part, recognized the need to create better ties with the powerful nations to the west and the south, and shrewdly saw the advantages a common religious culture offered.   His choice was between the four majors:  Judaism, Islam, Western Catholicism, and Eastern Orthodoxy.  Judaism seems to have been rejected immediately (plus ca change…) because it was the religion of the enemy Khazars, and so Vladimir dispatched ambassadors to the capitals of the three remaining religions to see for themselves and not rely on the foreign emissaries.

What happened next depends on who is telling the story.  Anecdotal Russian history says Vladimir was leaning towards Islam, despite the reports that, “there is no happiness among them, but instead only sorrow and a dreadful stench;” but when the Ambassadors revealed the teetotaler clause in the fine print of the Koran, Vladimir gravely shook his head, proclaiming, “Drink is the great joy of the Russian people,” and rejected it outright.

The Ambassadors from the “Germans” (the Holy Roman Empire) reported that they saw  “…them performing many ceremonies in their temples; but we beheld no glory there.”   

It was the Greeks, rolling out the smells and bells as only they could, who really blew the ambassadors away.  They walked into the Cathedral of St. Sofia in Constantinople and were rendered speechless.   “…We knew not,” they reported to Vladimir, “whether we were in heaven or on earth.  For on earth there is no such splendor or such beauty, and we are at a loss how to describe it.  We know only that God dwells there among men…”  

Vladimir, who was an excellent PR person (today, perhaps not un-coincidently, is also the Day of the PR Specialists) and asked his Ambassadors again and again what they thought he should choose, and they, being good Russian bureaucrats, responded again and again that, really, they couldn’t say, that it was up to him.  Vladimir, already leaning in the direction of Byzantium, decided to shelve the decision, until he could seal the deal with some military action.   He laid siege to the Byzantine stronghold of Kherson in the Crimea, and achieved eventual victory by cutting off their water supply.   

In negotiating with Emperor Basil, Vladimir revealed his hand: like another Vladimir approximately 1,012 later, he wanted a seat at the A-list table of nations. For Prince Vladimir, this was represented, not by the G-8, but by marrying the Emperor’s sister, Princess Anna, who was “born in the purple.” In exchange for this, suggested Vladimir, he might – just might – be willing to consider becoming a Christian.

The Primary Chronicle suggests that Princess Anna thought this was just about the worst idea she’d ever heard, but she dutifully loaded up her bibles, rounded up her clergymen and set out – as a lamb to the slaughter – to baptize Vladimir, and then marry him.   Upon reaching Vladimir, she found him suffering from a disease of the eyes, which had rendered him blind.  She insisted on baptizing him immediately in the Church of St. Basil at Kherson, and immediately his sight was restored.   Vladimir claimed, “I have now perceived the one true God.” And he adopted the name of Basil as a complement to both the church and the Emperor.  He married the Princess, and, it is assumed, they lived pretty much happily ever after.  

Vladimir set the tone for future rulers of Russia by forcing cultural change by means of threats of “risking your prince’s displeasure,” and just as beards came off for Peter The Great, mass baptisms took place at a steady clip back in Kiev.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

Congratulations to all Russian Orthodox Christians on the Day of Baptism of Prince Vladimir!  

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This post is part of The Stunt.

Author's Note:  

Direct quotes from "Medieval Russia's Epics, Chronicles, and Tales," edited by Serge A. Zenovsky 

Icon:  Baptism of Russ by Monk Zenon, 1988 reproduced in "Russian Orthdodox Church," edited by B. Karpov and I. Ulyanova, 1990.

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Dear Reader:

In honor of the new holiday, I visited Trinity St. Sergius Monastery, one of the most sacred religious complexes in Russia.  Here are some pictures from that visit:

 Photos By Jennifer Eremeeva, All Rights Reserved

Day of the Light Operators/День художника по свету (светооператора): The Lighting Wars

Let There Be Light

~ God

Today is the day of the light operators!  This includes people who design lighting for fireworks, rock concerts, shopping malls, and your bedroom.  On this day July 11th in 1874, Russian electrician Alexander Lodygin took out a patent for an incandescent lamp.  You can see the original at the Polytechnical Museum in Moscow.

Lighting is another one of those issues that makes me gnash my teeth here, particularly in my own living room, where we have gut-wrenchingly expensive recessed lighting which is about 4 zillion watts and, as the slimy contractor assured us, a dimmer was not possible (liar, liar pants on fire).  We also have a bookshelf enclosed in glass (HRH insisted because he planned – and I guess still plans – to purchase a library of Russian classics and he feared the dust) with florescent tube lighting on either side.   I don’t use either of these lighting fixtures, preferring instead the subtle play of shadow produced by the two interesting and tasteful metal light fixtures I chose, as well as lots of candles.

My father-in-law, however, just loves those bright lights.  About the first thing he does when he comes in to the house is turn them all on.   I go around and turn them off, and then he turns them back on.

This is how we keep the Cold War alive and kicking.

Today is also the Day of the Russian Postal Service and The Day of Fisherman, so be sure to head over to those where things are a little more comprehensive, funny, and worthy of detailed reading.

This post is part of The Stunt.

Hello there reader:

Did you find this illuminating?  Do you have annoying in-laws too?  What kinds of unacceptable behavior do they get up to in your own home?  Let it rip!  

St. John’s Eve/Иван Купала: Ferns, and Fires, and Flesh: Oh My!

Get your kit off!

~ Prefers to remain anonymous

Today is St. John’s Eve, or, in Russian: “Ivan Kupala!”   This is Russian Midsummer, with all the same accompanying mischief, magic, and misdemeanors, as anywhere else in the world, just thirteen days late, because of that Gregorian – Julian calendar thing we’ve discussed before.  So, we’ll be expecting wild sexual midnight revels; naked bathing, bonfires, and all that will all make a refreshing change from Anna Chapman.

It is nice for me, as well, to take a tiny break from the more modern Russian institutions such as the traffic cops and the veterans of the custom's service, and harken back to ancient pre- and early Christian Russia: wallow a little in all the Dan Brown/Bloodline conspiracy/St. John Worship/Freemason stuff.  If you are into that kind of thing (and I am) today’s holiday can be an endless font (pun intended) of fascinating information.

St. John’s Eve in the Christian calendar celebrates the night before the birth of Jesus’s cousin, St. John.  Scripture tells us that John was about six months older than, and “prepared the way” for Jesus, so that fits nicely: if you buy in to the idea that Jesus was born on December 25th (or January 7th according to the Russians).   St. John’s Eve, and its counterpart in the calendar, Christmas, are actually, as Alexander Hislop argues convincingly, replacements for much older pagan rituals surrounding the juxtaposition of light and dark. Jesus’s birth was set by the early Christians to replace the pagan Saturnalia or Winter Solstice, when the days begin to get lighter; John’s birthday replaced the Summer Solstice, when the days begin to grow darker. This neatly captures the "twinned" or juxtaposed relationship between John and Jesus. St. John, a wild and zealous desert preacher, rigid and ascetic in his beliefs, was an annoying thorn in the side of both the Romans and the Jewish King Herod.  John publicly denounced Herod for his marriage to his brother’s widow, Herodias. John condemned this as adulterous and incestuous.  King Herod, famously beheaded John at the request of his step-daughter (so also niece) Salome, after she did a very effective dance of the seven veils (making her the Anna Chapman of the piece) for his guests.  The head, then, is served up on a platter.

St. John remains a shadowy and puzzling figure, associated historically with controversial and secretive organizations such as The Knights Templar and the Freemasons, at the heart of bloodline conspiracy theories, and mysterious symbols and hidden messages in art and literature.  The fact that his birth, and not his death (August 19th in the Catholic calendar) is the key holiday is also significant, since most saints are celebrated on the day of their martyrdom or death, and not the birth. Jesus and John are not.

St. John’s Eve in Russia was, and still is in some parts of the country, celebrated with the traditional focus on fire and water:  elements, like Jesus and John, who stand in direct opposition.  At dusk (which comes very late this time of the year), huge bonfires are lit to guard against the evil spirits, witches, goblins, and other fey creatures who, as the world turns to darkness again, begin to gain in strength and power.   Men compete against one another to see who can jump the highest over the bonfire, ensuring the winner happiness and luck throughout the year.  Young women gather the traditional “Midsummer ferns,” which are woven into garlands and wreaths, worn throughout the evening and then dried, and kept to ward off evil spirits throughout the coming darkness.  In another long-standing tradition, young women float their wreaths of Midsummer ferns with lit candles into the river, and the one, which floats the longest, ensures its maker happiness in love, long life, and good health.

"Night of Ivan Kupala" by Genrikh Semyradski 

As the night lengthens, and a brief darkness hovers over the Northern sky, tradition says that the trees move about and speak to one another in the breeze, and the important water element is incorporated by naked bathing in ponds, rivers and streams to purify both the body and the soul. 

Things can begin to get slightly out of hand, which is wonderfully captured in Nikolai Gogol’s breakthrough short story “St. John’s Eve,” which you can download here, and Mussorgsky’s “Night On Bald Mountain,” which might sound strangely familiar to any of you with small children:

In closing, here are a few other interesting facts associated with St. John’s Eve, which may dictate the way you plan your day today:

1.    Traditionally, in Russia and other countries which celebrate St. John's Eve, there is a not-unsurprising spike in the birthrate during the month of March.

2.    As I wrote in a recent article on Russian superstitions, witches will not come into your house if there is a needle or something sharp in the doorjamb or other portals to the house. This is particularly true on St. John’s Eve, so housewives scatter thistles or roses on their windowsills to keep the witches at bay.

3.    It is very important (Velvet, are you listening?) to lock up your horses on St. John’s Eve, lest the witches or goblins spirit them away...to Bald Mountain!

4.    If a girl collects seven different kinds of flowers and puts them under her pillow, she will dream of her future husband.

5.    If you climb over twelve garden fences during St. John’s Eve, your wish will come true.

Can you find a garden fence you could actually climb over in Russia?

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This post is part of The Stunt.

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Author’s Note:

Lots of research went into this one, and I am grateful to:

Astrology On The Web

“ And dedicated to the Holy Saints John: An inquiry into the designation of the Saints John as Patron Saints of Freemasonry”, by W. Bro Harry L. Ward Jr. PM on Pietre-Stones: Review of Freemasonry

Secret Societies, by David V. Barrett

Cracking The Symbol Code: the Hidden Message Within Church and Renaissance Art, by Tim Wallace-Murphy

The Two Babylons by Alexander Hislop

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Well then, Readers,

What have you got planned for tonight?  Let me know, won’t you…you don’t have to identify yourself in the comments…really.  Make up a name, go on!  Be clever, reference Shakespeare:  Hermia, Helena, Bottom, Titannia, Puck...or be current, and call yourself Anna Chapman.  You get the idea.

I know this one was a little academic for some palates, so here are a few ones in a slightly lighter vein.

Day of the Legal Profession /День российской адвокатуры: Russia’s Pornographic Portia

Day of the Chemists / День химика: Russia’s Unquestioned Contribution to Civilization

International Museum Day/Международный день музеев: Which Museum Would You Run Away To?

International Museum Day/Международный день музеев: Which Museum Would You Run Away To?

Claudia knew that she could never pull off the old-fashioned kind of running away…She didn’t like discomfort…Therefore she decided that her leaving home would not be just running from somewhere but would be running to somewhere. To a large place, a comfortable place, an indoor place, and preferably a beautiful place.  And that’s why she decided upon the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City.

~Opening lines of "From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler"

Happy International Museum Day!   This is not so much a Russian holiday as a universal one, but it was an international holiday created in Russia, and there aren’t so many of those (until this blog goes viral that is), so we’ll make a note of it.

In 1977, in Moscow, the 12th Congress of the International Council of Museums (ICOM) adopted a resolution proposed by the Russian Delegation (who else but the nation that treats public and professional holidays like crack cocaine?) to instigate International Museum Day.  Each year, on May 18th there is a large conference with a theme, and this year in Shanghai they’ll be looking at “Museums For Social Harmony.”  Some, but not all museums offer entry free of charge.  Check your local listings.

Like anyone with a coverless, warped paperback of “From The Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler:" the timeless story of two suburban pre-teens who run away and live in the Metropolitan Museum of Art for a week, I’m a big museum fan, although I did take a decade-long hiatus from visiting them.  As a college student in New York City, I wrote all my Art History papers at the Frick, and sometimes just went there to hang out.   During my misspent youth in the UK, before I met The Bloke, I went to almost every museum in London, Edinburgh, Oxford, Cambridge and so on.  Then, there was the template backpacking through Europe, but I really went into Museum overload during my misspent youth as a tour guide.   

Herding 78 people through the Hermitage is a very different kettle of fish than spending a leisurely morning on one’s own at the Wallace Collection, and after a few seasons I began to look forward to an afternoon at the Hermitage as one would a root canal, and spent more time in the adjacent cafes and tea rooms than I did in the galleries.

“Can we spend a week at the Hermitage?” tourists would beg on Day 1.

“Let’s see how you manage a morning, and if you like…” I would say innocently, mentally assigning the group a numerical drop-out spread, “You can go back after lunch.”

Three hours later, I’d watch them stagger out the exit onto Palace Square, gasping for air, waving away the picture book sellers.  Having assembled them all on the coach and bribed the driver with a pack of cigarettes to put on the air conditioning, I would innocently ask: “Now, who would like to return after lunch?”  The answer was usually no one.

Because the tourist infrastructure in Russia in the 1990s basically sucked, tourists to Russia had to be supervised as vigilantly as a group of energetic toddlers, and we tour managers and local guides would have conversations more appropriate to the parents of 3 year old twins:

“If you do Peterhof without me,” I’d say to the Russian guide, “I’ll take them on a Moscow Metro after the Pushkin Museum, and you don’t have to come back to the hotel with us in the evening.”

“OK,” she’d say, then up the ante, “But you’ll have to bring them home from Swan Lake on Tuesday.”

“No problem,” I’d say.

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Today is also Baltic Fleet Day, a genuinely Russian Holiday!  Don't miss it!

This post is part of The Stunt

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Dear Reader:

Thank you very much for stopping by on a double-header day!  I’m taking a definitive poll: nominate your Museum of Choice by copying and pasting this list into the body of a comment with your votes for the following categories:

1.    Best Bathroom 

2.    Worst Bathroom

3.    Best Gift Shop

4.    Best restaurant/café 

5.    Most Push and Shove in Front of a Major Work like the Mona Lisa in the Louvre

6.    Biggest foot sore

7.    Most Labyrinthian layout

8.    Most unpleasant attendants

9.    Top Choice to run away to and live in like Claudia and Jamie Kincaid in From The Mixed Up Files Of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler

10. Biggest waste of time ever