This is a prologue to the project I have been working on for the last year. It is the story of a young boy who lives in the Kolyma gold mines during the 1950's. It is titled: Swimming Against the Kolyma River
Ab Initio
May these words of mine provide some assuagement to all who have suffered.
For twenty years I have wandered throughout the Eastern Bloc in search of a land that provides its inhabitants some magnitude of Liberty. As there exists no such land, I have ultimately failed in this task. I now experience an epiphany of sorts: perhaps, although I am physically constrained by the demeaning laws of this land, I may find a way in which to liberate another aspect of my self. My mind, which has been ever so hindered by the iniquitous legislation of the Soviets, is, perhaps, within my ability to liberate. Upon observation of my situation, it is quite simple to come to the conclusion that I am, and have always been, a Slave. However, upon closer examination, I have determined that I remain a slave only as long as my oppressors dominate my spirit.
This notion is, possibly, more painful than simply assuming the role of a Slave for the remainder of my years. In my youth, my heart was viciously purloined from me in the Kolyma. I deeply fear that there it remains. The search for my heart is an arduous one; the Soviets do not take kindly to a man who embarks on such a task. I will face their oppression with every step. And yet I realize that I will continue to suffer with the absence of my heart, and so I have committed myself to endure this venture.
One may request either of two things to appease his suffering: retribution or solace. It is no interest of mine to seek redemption against my oppressors: their punishment will transpire naturally with the passing of time, as they become increasingly cognizant of the extent of their offense against an entire nation. Gentle solace is that of which I intend to attain. I believe that these very words, penned with my own trembling hands, shall provide me this. I believe that my heart shall be liberated only if I am to recount every long, rigorous year in the North. As I reminisce upon my suffering, I shall alternatively triumph once again as I remember the way in which I conquered every impediment that presented itself before me. I shall revitalize the spirit of the boy I once was with these words and, with that, become the virtuous person I was in my youth.
While this is the testament of Pavel Milodanovich Grigoryev, it is also the attestation of the torture of ten thousand others who once walked by my side.
