Ernest Hemingway once wrote, “I am trying to make, before I get through, a picture of the whole world—or as much of it as I have seen. Boiling it down always, rather than spreading it thin.” As a writer, his sentiment about rich story content is at the forefront of my mind. I strive to bring something of value to the page hoping to engage readers, if only to evoke their own introspection on the heels of my own.
Continue reading “On Writing a Picture of the Whole World”
Intrigued is the word that best describes how I felt after discovering this photo. The moment I saw the face of Grigori Rasputin, my mind zipped back to 1978. Suddenly, I was 14 years old again and leaping around the living room while “Ra Ra Rasputin, lover of the Russian queen” boomed from the hi-fi speakers. Each time the music skipped, I’d race over to the reset the needle on the vinyl album and begin the song again.
This photograph leaves me with so many questions. Who would look so pleased about publicly aligning herself with such a man? Matryona Grigorievna Rasputin, daughter of the Mad Munk, is the mysterious subject of the photo. She changed her name to Maria — a more socially upward and marketable name. And yes, it is a look of pride she’s wearing as she shares the frame with her father’s image.
Maria was born in a Siberian village in 1899 to Grigori Rasputin and Praskovia Fyodorovna Dubrovina. After her father’s notoriety spread, the family moved to St. Petersburg where she attended a private school and socialized in royal circles. She was 17 years old at the time of her father’s death. How does one survive the exploits of a an infamous parent?
She broke off an engagement, to a Georgian officer, to marry an up-and-comer who was a great admirer of her father. Maria made this decision based on the advice of people who claimed they’d communicated with Rasputin’s spirit during a séance. He’d reached out from beyond the grave, they said, to tell her that this marriage was meant to be.
Her new husband turned out to be philanderer and an unscrupulous con artist with a knack for making poor financial choices. He died of tuberculosis in 1926, after they’d fled to Paris. Maria supported herself and their two children by working as a governess. She unsuccessfully sued her father’s murderer; the Paris courts dismissed the case and declined involvement in a crime stemming from Russian politics.
Maria Rasputin continued to lead an eclectic lifestyle. She danced in cabarets in Paris, France and Bucharest, Romania. In the 1930’s, she toured Europe and the United States with Ringling Brothers Circus as an animal trainer and lion tamer. Crowds were attracted by promises that she controlled wild animals with the same hypnotic powers that her father had exacted on the Russian royal family.
She was mauled by a circus bear in Peru, Indiana, but soldiered on until the show reached Miami, Florida where she worked as a riveter in a shipyard during WW2. In 1940, she met her American husband and was granted U.S. citizenship. In the late 1960’s, Maria announced her psychic powers and identified Anna Anderson as being the illusive Anastasia Romonav — a claim she would later recant.
Maria published three memoirs detailing the life of her father and his relationship with the Russian royal family. In an interview with the Los Angeles Times, she said, “My father was a very kind, very religious man. Always he think of others — never himself. Many people were jealous of him.” Maria would tell her grandchildren in the years to come, that their great grandfather was a “simple man with a big heart and strong spiritual power, who loved Russia, God, and the Tsar”.
So many questions and creative thoughts are swirling through my mind. I’m sipping a cup of tea as I write, trying to think of how to funnel them into one succinct paragraph. I think I’ve arrived at the two words to begin with — resilience and tenacity. No matter what life threw at Maria Rasputin, she bounced back covered in sequins, arms raised above her head, and radiating that “look at me world, I’m back” kind of smile. I find myself reflecting on the nature versus nurture question and heritable traits.
My impression is that she was a larger than life character. Surely, Maria must have inherited some of the personality traits that moved her father from poverty to palace. There are aspects of this woman that will most certainly inspire my pen.
“They ask me if I mind to be in a cage with animals and I answer, “Why not? I have been in a cage with Bolsheviks.”” ~ Maria Rasputin
What are your impressions of Maria Rasputin? Is there some trivia you’d like to share? I’d love to hear from you.
The henhouse. The chicken coop. The roost. What do I know about chickens? Not as much as I thought I did. For instance, I’ve always believed there was a rooster strutting through every barnyard flock of chickens. Turns out I was wrong on that account. If you want eggs for breakfast, you only need hens. But, if you want a brood of chicks, you’re going to need that rooster too — and perhaps some ear plugs. I’d also imagined that roosters sallied forth and crowed once at sunrise, then hung it up until the next day. Not so — they’ll crow intermittently throughout the day. Continue reading “In the Henhouse”
Gwen Tuinman 