Witness

...the redistribution of wealth:

I passed Uncle Borya's house. There the distribution of things wasn't over yet... I saw a woman from the nearby village of Okoliny. She was carrying a peeled enameled saucepan and Lenchick's semi-porcelain piss-pot.

She passed me keeping her head down but I recognised her.

"Well, Ilyana, have you got rich now?"

She dropped her eyes even lower. I was sorry for her...

See also the fate of Toma, who "got my Father's cutaway" for another example.

Euphrosinia (or Eufrosinia) Kersnovskaya didn't know it at that time, but she herself had embarked on a journey that would take her to exile and the Gulag. Over two decades would pass before she could tell her tale in words and pictures - and even then (1964) she would do so only in secret and at tremendous personal risk.

I discovered her work only after I'd completed (at least thought I'd completed) this little tale of the birth of the cold war, which I'd referred to from the beginning as a graphic novel, filled with elements from comic books, science fiction and movies, and concluded with a reference to fairy tales. When I found the web site devoted to her work I knew I wanted to weave a few of these stunning examples of the reality of life in the Soviet Union into the tale. When I read that she "envisioned the text and illustrations as an indivisible whole, a genre that perhaps lies somewhere between traditional Russian lubok engravings and the modern graphic novel" I had no doubt. One cannot consider the impact of the efforts of the many useful idiots of the West (in the Trinity example, atomic spies) without having a true picture of the world they supported and facilitated. Compared to the documentation of the evils of Nazi Germany, very few such first-hand accounts of the Soviet hell exist. (And once he had the atomic bomb at his disposal, no one was going to loosen Stalin's iron grip.)

And this rare example is both comprehensive and readable. Kersnovskaya's drawings aren't rendered in any of the usual bleak styles artists choose to depict the world wherein jackboots smash the human face forever, for that reason (along with the fact that they're from memory rather than the imagination) they are all the more effective. A more "realistic" depiction would be hard to take; to view more than a few images without turning away would be difficult for most. As they are, and accompanied by the few words of text needed to complete each vignette, the full path is more easily traveled by anyone with the time to venture along it.

Excerpts from her work were first published in 1990 by the Soviet magazine Ogonek, and in translation by The Observer (Great Britain). Portions of her work have also appeared in German and in French. A complete version of the Russian text appeared in 2001. A complete version of the Russian text and illustrations appeared in 2006.

And there's another notable point - as far as I can tell, there's little knowledge of the existence of this treasure in the West. The image at the top of this post should be iconic, but it is not. Little interest? Ancient history, perhaps. No threat now, a point furthered by the eternal mantra of (to use the once again in-vogue term) the "Progressive": "of course, we all know now that (insert once-widely supported, now demonstrably failed cornerstone of leftist wisdom here) was wrong - but today (insert new widely accepted version of 'truth')." But the shallow falsehood of that claim is the best reason to make time to visit the site, an illustrated travelogue along the path to the Gulag. To argue that "since we know where that path leads we can walk it without getting there" is an absurdity - exactly the sort of absurdity to which Euphrosinia Kersnovskaya responded with surely this can't be happening in the twentieth century? - even as she experienced it herself. But that absurd argument is made to this day; indeed, as this thought-provoking comment on "socialism in gestation" explains, even in the twenty-first century we haven't progressed (and here I mean that word in non-Orwellian context) far enough beyond that deadly type of absurdity as many would like to believe. We can indeed trot swiftly and merrily onward down that trail now for the same reason so many Russians (or Germans, or others) did in the previous modern century - because fewer people every day would recognize it, or even believe that it could exist. (Or that they, of all people, would be foolish enough to travel it.)

There are a number of points of comparison and contrast throughout the Trinity series, left for the reader to notice, but one which I'll point out here. In 1954, globally celebrated artist/Stalin fan/Gulag supporter Pablo Picasso was doodling sketches of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg to commemorate the one-year anniversary of their execution (martyrdom, as he and his fellow travelers would have it) for their part - meager as it might have been - in delivering that atomic bomb to the Soviet Union. Building that nuclear capability in the USSR made the Gulag even worse (if that's possible) by creating a demand for massive amounts of slave labor to achieve and sustain it - including those whose fate was death in the Uranium mines, pick and shovel in hand. Achieving that nuclear capability ensured not just perpetuation but expansion and spread of the Gulag, as the bulk of any influence the West might have had in reform or containment of the Soviet Union vanished in the mushroom cloud that signaled Stalin's success. Nevertheless (or because of that, even) a significant number of western scientists and artists - all aware to some degree of what the Soviet Union really was - welcomed that event.

But even as Picasso & company were admiring his courageous doodles, artist Nikolai Getman was experiencing "freedom" (as they would have it for us all)...

From the very day I was released, I began to implement my plan to paint a series of pictures on the theme of the Gulag, but because this was a forbidden topic, I had to do my civic duty in secret. And so, in complete secrecy, beginning in 1953, I painted pictures about camp life that I recreated from memory. I told no one about this work--not even my wife--because this sort of activity was punishable by imprisonment or even death.

After her release she settled in Yessentuki, a town in the Northern Caucasus, and penned her memoirs, which eventually comprised 12 notebooks and 680 illustrations. She made several copies (including the illustrations) by hand and entrusted them to others for safekeeping.

Remarkably they survive to this day, and while perhaps not as sought after as a Picasso, you can view them (in much larger format than the thumbnails I've presented, along with an English translation of her writing) here.

And (added postscript) - here's another bit of contrast to bring this story up to date. Euphrosinia Kersnovskaya passed away in 1994, having lived long enough to witness the collapse of the Soviet Union and at least portions of her work published.

In contrast, the happy ending of US (and Soviet) Army veteran/Soviet atomic spy George Koval:

Koval described his post-spy life as "uneventful". His family knew he had done work for the GRU, but the subject was never discussed. He did not receive any high awards upon his return, a fact that bothered him. Bigger awards went to "career men", he told Kramish. However, he ended his correspondence by saying that he was not protesting his treatment; "[I am thankful] that I did not find myself in a Gulag, as might well have happened". Koval died in his Moscow apartment on January 31, 2006, at the age of 92.

Koval's activities as a spy began to emerge after the publication of a 2002 book, The GRU and the Atomic Bomb, which mentioned Koval by his code name and listed him as one of a handful of spies who evaded counterintelligence groups. On November 3, 2007, he received the posthumous title of Hero of the Russian Federation [the highest honorary title that can be bestowed on a citizen] bestowed by Russian President Vladimir Putin. When Koval was honored, the Russian presidential proclamation stated, "Mr Koval, who operated under the pseudonym Delmar, provided information that helped speed up considerably the time it took for the Soviet Union to develop an atomic bomb of its own".