22-30 April 2026
by Boris Akunin
Source: Facebook
22 April 2026
I’m watching the news from Russia with mixed feelings. On the one hand, I’m very sorry for ordinary people who are forced to live in an atmosphere of increasing madness. On the other hand, I know very well from history that dictatorships always make every effort to persecute dissidents; but they meet their end not because of revolutionaries, but because of their own mistakes.
The more mistakes they make, the more deeply disillusioned the people become and the more the previously politically unengaged begin to take an interest in politics. And at some point, no matter how minor the flash, the powder ignites. A stone flies through a bakery window, a crowd attacks city police, an empire disintegrates.
The pivotal factor is the proportion of those who think ‘It is the way it is, but we can get by’ to those who begin to think ‘No, this can’t go on.’
So watching the bright minds in the Kremlin banning the internet (forgetting the circuses and leaving themselves with just bread), I say: ‘Keep sawing, Shura!’ [see The Golden Calf – ed.] The message is trickling through to even the most backward layers of Russian society: we can’t live like this.
This is more or less how I felt when I learned of yesterday’s raid by the security services on the EKSMO publishing house in Moscow.
The management of Russia’s largest publishing company is suspected of extremism and establishing ‘a criminal organisation disseminating LGBT propaganda among teenagers.’
This is the perfectly submissive and loyal EKSMO that always makes pains to please the bosses. These poor souls use AI to cleanse seditious content from their books, block out pages of text with thick black lines and feverishly print Z-camp trash (making a loss in the process) – in short, they try really hard.
I can see it now: the timid EKSMO directors holding a clandestine meeting discussing how to find the most devious way to pump innocent teens with LGBT propaganda. In the thirties, these same saboteurs would have been the ones printing swastikas in books only for the watchful eyes of pioneers to discover them.
Maybe the entire publishing industry might be silently shifting camp to the regime’s enemies. Sehr gut.
But it is sad to think how Putinism has given birth to so many scoundrels and how detestable acts of every description have been made profitable.
An entire investigative operation is at work, whose members know perfectly that it is a complete farce, but they continue to stitch a case together regardless, sending reports to superiors and punching holes in their shoulder boards to add more stars.
The insidious influence of these scoundrels has infiltrated every sphere of life.
How quickly an entire society can degenerate so all we see on the surface are scoundrels, while decent people merely cower and post cryptic messages on social media.
An anthropological catastrophe.
An anthropological disaster.
Source: Facebook
23 April 2026
World Book Day. Hooray!
(From ‘My Calendar’)
Once again, our day, the day for professional writers.
Because writing really is something to celebrate. A writer imagines the unimaginable, creates magical creatures out of nothing – out of letters – and then these rolling caravans travel the world in the form of books, and people pay the writer for this inexplicable thing not only with money (which will eventually be spent), but with a currency of greater value – attention, interest, sometimes love, and occasionally even immortality. Because the real test, of course, begins when the writer is gone, and the book remains.
Today is World Book Day. Hooray!
Symbolically, World Book Day is 23rd April not to mark the anniversary of the release of any particular classic, but to mark the sad anniversary of the deaths of three great writers.
On 23rd April 1616, the lives of England’s greatest author William Shakespeare, Spain’s greatest author Miguel de Cervantes and Peru’s greatest author Inca Garcilaso de la Vega ended, and the three continued to live only in their writings. (International Writers’ Day was first thought up by the Spanish, hence the prevalence of Spanish-language literature).
Of course, the artist lives mainly and most truly in their paintings, the composer in their paintings and the writer in their books. Every writer tells themselves in times of raised spirits: I shall not wholly die – for in my sacred lyre, my spirit shall outlive my dust’s corruption.
[an extract from a poem by Aleksandr Pushkin entitled ‘A monument I`ve raised not built with hands’ – trans.]
I think it is self-explanatory how you should celebrate this Day. Buy a book. At least one. E-books are fine too.
And it’s best to do so on BAbook. If you go to the website, you’ll see why.
The picture is of Inca Garcilaso de la Vega (1539-1616) because you already know the other two.
Source: Facebook
24 April 2026
I can announce to those who love with their ears not their eyes (or to those simply charmed by the sound of my voice), that we have finally managed to release an audio version of my ‘Wikibook’ Two Ways.
Let me just remind you what Wiki prose is. It is a genre I invented.
It is a book that has all kinds of additional information added in, like a link on Wikipedia. You can ignore the links and it won’t lessen the experience. But they enrich and deepen the plot, (while also sometimes side-tracking the reader too).
The footnotes vary. Sometimes they are just historical or biographical references, sometimes entire novellas or film scripts. I get pleasure from this, I want to attach something, I attach it and the reader can read it or skip it.
The print book and e-books both have words and extracts where additional materials can be easily tagged. How would that work with an audio book?
We ended up taking the easy route: we added a bell sound. Its chiming means a little door you can choose to take a peep behind later on.
Two Ways demonstrates two kinds of storytelling where the Wikipedia-style footnote insertion may be very useful.
You see the samurai mask in a budyennovka [a military cap associated with the Red Army – trans.] on the book’s cover?
It’s because the first story is called Way of the Dog – about seventeenth-century Japan and Miura Anjin [an English navigator and later samurai, whose English name was William Adams, whom many know from the Shogun series]. Wikipedia-style footnotes would be needed here because few readers would know much about Tokugawa-era Japan.
The second story – Way of the Cat – is about the Red Army hero Grigory Kotovsky, and the most interesting part about it is the supporting characters, it would not be possible to discuss them in the text itself because it would spoil the pace of the story.
In the first story, the footnotes are of an ethnographical nature; in the second they are of an atmospheric and biographical nature.
In my view, the add-ons are in both cases more interesting than the narratives themselves.
I personally prefer the audio book over the written versions. No one will pour over the ‘footnotes’ – they want to what happens in the story. If you want to give it a listen, go for it.
Source: Facebook
24 April 2026
Day of the Defence Lawyer
(From ‘My Calendar’)
On 25 April 1842, Fedor Nikiforovocih Plevako was born, Russia’s most iconic lawyer (who was also half Polish, half Kazakh).
His star shone through the half-century (1864-1917) during which in Russia there was a normal, adversarial judicial process and a defence lawyer was able to score decisive legal victories over state prosecutors – something Plevako did on several occasions.
Plevako made showmanship central to his court appearances. They were as popular with the public as the theatre. Plevako did not often make long speeches. Here are two of his cases:
An old woman was put on trial for petty theft. The prosecutor claimed the value of the stolen property was immaterial; disrespect for others’ property represented a deadly threat to the Russian State.
“Russia has been forced to bear many woes and tribulations over the more than 1,000 years of her existence. She was ravaged by the Pechenegs, the Cumans, the Tatars and the Poles. Moscow was captured by Napoleon in 1812. Russia weathered and overcame it all. And now an old woman steals a tin kettle worth 30 kopecks, and this is what will destroy Russia, she will die from this?”
The woman was acquitted.
Another time, a brazen prostitute accused a simple peasant of raping her and demanded compensation.
“Very well,” Plevako said, “but you must pay the laundry for the sheets you dirtied with your shoes.”
“You’re lying!” the prostitute shouted, “I always wash my shoes!”
Plevako defended the poor free of charge and even sometimes gave them money. Really a lawyer to behold. I read that he named both his sons Sergei, so much did he like the name. When they grew up, they became lawyers too and held it against Fedor as they were always being confused with each other.
Plevako died a very timely death in 1908 – a few years before the Revolution and the abolition of independent courts.
May God grant you good lawyers in your time of need. Even better – become lawyers yourselves.
Source: Facebook
26 April 2026
This was a Man
My favourite thing about the City of London is that I am always discovering little secrets walking the streets every day.
I was walking along Foster Lane one evening and I suddenly spotted an unassuming door leading into a courtyard. I take a look inside – a little patio with a Roman mosaic! On the wall was a plaque.
Of course, I was interested to read that it was a memorial to Vladimir Vasilievich Petropavlovsky, ‘soldier of the Tsar, of France and of England … This was a man’.
I went online to look him up. I found it. Fiendishly interesting.
The plaque got his year of birth wrong. He was born in 1897. He served in the Tsarist Army, then the White Army. He was involved in all kinds of amazing exploits in Mongolia and China. He then fought in Africa with the French Foreign Legion. After France’s capitulation in World War Two, he served in the British Special Operations Executive (who conducted sabotage operations). He knew Chinese, Arabic and Serbian, (not to mention French and English).
He was also an outstanding violinist and a transport engineer in exotic countries.
This was most certainly a Man. The newspaper cutout I have attached is a small window into an episode of such an extraordinary life. (Vladimir Petropavlovsky wrote a memoir, Triple Commission)
Source: Facebook
27 April 2026
The Day of the Non-Existent
(from ‘My Calendar’)
There are lots of things in Russia – too many to count. Open expanses, natural resources, seas and rivers, laws and by-laws, decrees and bans, government figures and just ordinary people. And many special days of celebrations. One of these stands out as it honours something non-existent.
Today is Russian Parliamentarianism Day. Maybe a bit less of a celebration and more a day of mourning; the story of Russian parliamentarianism is not a happy one.
The Day is the anniversary of the opening of the first convocation of the Russian parliament, the State Duma, in 1906. It was a threat to the monarchy and was therefore hastily broken up, followed closely by the second convocation. Later on, in 1917, the Duma dissolved the government.
In the Soviet Union, parliament had a purely decorative role. In the democratic Russian Federation its role was problematic – hence why tanks fired at it. In the 21st century, we have returned to the submissive Soviet model, once more, parliament is ‘no place for discussion’. And so Parliamentarianism Day was established for 27th April.
In truth, the actual start date for the first Russian parliament was 10 May, it was 27th April in the Old Style, long-abolished. So it is logical: a day when nothing happened to celebrate something that never existed.
27 April also marks a different occasion, the introduction of mandatory registration permits in the Soviet Union, considered by historians to represent a partial return to serfdom. You live where you are registered.
Today we mourn something we don’t have and hope at some point it will turn up.
Source: Facebook
28 April 2026
The question I’d like to ask you today was put by Ilya Selvinsky (see the picture).
Let me know who your favourite poet is, and I’ll try to put together a ranking later.
If you don’t like poetry at all and don’t have a favourite poet, please let me know that too.
I asked myself this question as well.
And I realised that I don’t have a single favourite poet, but I do have a favourite poetic genre: haiku and hokku.
What I like most are interactive poems, containing an inner engine that can lead you to something new and interesting.
Once, a three-line poem about a dragonfly catcher, having occupied my mind for some time, turned into a two-volume novel, The Diamond Chariot. The first volume consists of 17 chapter-syllables, as is customary in haiku, whilst the second volume is called Between the Lines.
And now as well. A haiku written almost two hundred years ago by the monk Ryokan on his deathbed seems set to turn into a novel. It’s a special feeling; for that alone, it’s worth loving poetry.
The haiku [actually a tanka, of course – a slip of the pen, but I’ll leave it] goes like this:
What is there to remember,
When it’s time to leave?
Well, flowers in spring.
Mountains – they are just mountains.
There is the moon.Yes, the moon…
So. Who is your Poet? If you’d like to explain why it’s him or her, that’s absolutely fine.
Source: Facebook
29 April 2026
Tell me who your favourite poet is, and I’ll tell you who you are
A thousand people responded to Ilya Selvinsky’s question yesterday. They mentioned a host of names, some of them unexpected. There were even some I didn’t know (I’ll look them up and read their work). But for the most part, of course, it was the classic selection of ‘Favourite Poets’.
I decided to test Selvinsky’s claim using AI – based on the three poets mentioned most frequently.
If you named one of them as your favourite – let me know whether the description fits you or not.
At the same time, we’ll test the analytical abilities of the AI profiler. (As for how it profiled me – at the very end).
So.
FAVOURITE POET – MANDELSTAM.
Such people usually: notice nuances in intonation; react sensitively to insincerity; value precision of expression; love it when a thought is ‘hard-won’ rather than merely striking.
These are often people who find it difficult to live in a world of simplifications. They may take a long time to choose their words – both in conversation and when expressing their feelings.
Mandelstam’s admirers often possess a combination of: intellectual rigour; emotional vulnerability; and inner drama.
Moreover, on the surface such a person may appear ironic, somewhat dry or even cold. But inside they lead a very intense life.
Usually these are people: who are deeply reflective; prone to self-analysis; sensitive to the themes of time, memory and loss; capable of living within several cultural layers simultaneously.
A ‘Mandelstamite’ is often distinguished by an almost physical aversion to: crude cynicism; ostentatious power; cheap success; aggressive simplicity.
To love Mandelstam often means: preferring depth to clarity, dignity to comfort, inner truth to social ease.
FAVOURITE POET – PASTERNAK
These are people familiar with: a state of flow; sudden inspiration; emotional flashes of insight; an almost mystical sense of connection with the world.
They are often more impulsive and less ‘calculated’ than lovers of Mandelstam.
Such people: love intensely; often idealise; know how to admire; can be very tender, yet emotionally chaotic.
It is characteristic of Pasternak’s admirers to: live not entirely practically; fall out of the daily grind; exist more in a state of being than within a system.
This may be a person who is: absent-minded; enthusiastic; not very linear; at times unpredictable, often with little interest in social life.
FAVOURITE POET – BRODSKY
Not Mandelstam’s fragile cultural nervousness, nor Pasternak’s sense of being dissolved in life, but consciousness as a fortress.
Very often, a love for Brodsky speaks of a person who has made intellect a means of survival.
Almost all ‘Brodsky’ people have a strong need: not to be emotionally dependent; to maintain autonomy; not to dissolve into the collective; to have an inner territory where no one enters. Even in love. These are people for whom dignity is more important than comfort.
Brodsky enthusiasts often: analyse quickly; are prone to complex mental constructs; love precision and complexity; use irony as armour. They are often emotional, but emotion almost always passes through the filter of the mind.
A Brodsky enthusiast does not trust: loud emotions; collective enthusiasm; ideologies; moralising; excessive sincerity. They are rather wary. These are people with a highly developed inner observer.
As for us, lovers of haiku and tanka, the AI made a rather hurtful remark about the writer: ‘These are people who perceive the world more subtly than they are able to express in words’.
You yourself are incapable of expressing feelings in words! You don’t even have any feelings!
And pretends to be a psychologist, too.
Source: Facebook
30 April 2026
Death Battalions
Some time ago, whilst preparing to write a play based on a detective story, I became fascinated by the subject of ‘cursed’ plays and productions. And then I learnt that there are also films with a sinister aura.
I’ve been looking into one of them recently. It’s called The Scarlet Lady. Hollywood, 1928 – still silent, but with recorded music. It’s about Petrograd and Russian revolutionaries – a proper nightmare, but there’s something else that’s interesting.
Many members of the film crew, as if bewitched by someone, died young and tragically: the director was killed in a car crash, the leading lady choked on a chicken bone, the leading man drank himself into a fatal illness, the art director died in a plane crash, and that is by no means the whole list.
A dark shadow fell over the film from the very start – just before the premiere, the actress playing the role of the Fiery Revolutionary, the rising Hollywood star 29-year-old Valentina Zimina, died of the flu (the photo is from another film, where she plays a non-revolutionary).
It was Zimina who intrigued me the most. Was it she who infected the film with the virus of death?
All the biographies state that in Russia Valentina was an officer in a women’s ‘death battalion’, fought valiantly against the Bolsheviks in Siberia, escaped from a Red prison, and only after all these adventures went on to have a Hollywood career.
I don’t know whether this is true or not. Too many émigrés made up heroic stories for themselves to pull the wool over people’s eyes. In the available lists of the ‘death battalion’ personnel (a subject I once researched), I did not find Valentina Zimina. And the ‘death battalions’ did not fight in Siberia at all. Although their commander, Maria Bochkareva, did serve under Kolchak and seems to have formed a women’s unit, or at least attempted to do so. Zimina could well have been her assistant.
So I don’t know. If Valentina Zimina really was one of Bochkareva’s Amazons, it makes for a story of sinister beauty. From a women’s death battalion to a Hollywood death battalion.
Source: Facebook
Translated by Oscar Seecharan and Simon Cosgrove
