Russka - Edward Rutherfurd [294]
As Alexander glanced towards the countess now, he could see that a circle was already forming in front of her. On her left he noticed a newcomer, a general – a dapper, grey-haired man, short but erect, with piercing black eyes. So this was the victim. The Countess was beckoning. As he approached, he smiled to hear her reproving one of the young writers for something he had said. ‘Take care, monsieur,’ she was wagging her finger at him. ‘You cannot deceive me. I sleep with my eyes open.’ She did not change.
It was one of the joys of these evenings that Countess Turova never troubled to be subtle. When she was ready to start the argument, she merely picked up one of the fighting cocks, so to speak, and threw it at the other. Now, therefore, she turned abruptly to the unfortunate general. ‘So,’ she said accusingly, ‘I hear you want to close all our theatres.’
The old man stared at her in surprise. ‘Not at all, my dear countess. I just said that one play went too far and should be taken off. It was seditious,’ he added calmly.
‘So you say. And what do you think, Alexander Prokofievich?’
He was on.
Alexander enjoyed these debates. Firstly, he was good at them because he was patient; secondly, though the countess herself might be shallow, the debates in her salon often concerned important matters, touching the very heart of Russia and her future. For this reason, while he was anxious to defeat the general, he hoped also that he would be a worthy opponent.
The countess had set up the subject: freedom of speech. It was a key tenet of the Enlightenment and was supported by the empress. For not only had Catherine allowed private presses to operate legally, she had even written social satire for the stage herself. And so the debate began.
BOBROV:
I am against censorship – for a simple reason. If men are free to speak, the voice of Reason will eventually prevail. Unless, of course, you have no faith in men’s reason.
COUNTESS:
(Nastily) Have you faith, General?
GENERAL:
(Cheerfully) Not much.
BOBROV:
History may be on your side. But what about the future? Men can change and so can the way they are governed. Look how the empress is bringing up her grandsons. Do you disapprove of that?
Everyone knew that Catherine had personally taken charge of her grandsons, Alexander and Constantine. She had put them under a democratically minded Swiss tutor who was teaching them how they might be enlightened rulers of the vast empires she planned to leave them.
GENERAL:
I admire the empress. But when her grandson rules, enlightened or not, he will find his choices for action are limited.
COUNTESS:
(Impatiently) No doubt you look forward to the reign of Grand Duke Paul, instead?
Bobrov smiled. The Grand Duke Paul, Catherine’s only legitimate son, was the countess’s pet hate. He was a strange and moody fellow, and whether or not he was actually his son, Paul certainly modelled himself on the murdered Tsar Peter III. He hated the empress for taking over his sons and seldom came to court. An obsessive military disciplinarian, he had no interest in the Enlightenment, and there was a rumour that Catherine might one day by-pass him in the succession for his son. Even so, no sensible official like the general was going to speak ill of this man who might still one day be ruler. Wisely, therefore, the older man said nothing.
BOBROV:
To return to censorship – what practical harm comes from showing a play?
GENERAL:
Probably none. But it is the principle of free speech I object to. For two reasons. The first is that it encourages a spirit of opposition for its own sake. But the second, and worse danger, is not the effect on the people, but