Glorious Misadventures Quotes

“In Siberian merchant weddings well into the 19th century, the bride's father would strike his daughter with a specially made whip, pronouncing the words, 'By these blows you, daughter, know the power of your father. Now instead of me, your husband will teach you with this lash.' The whip would be ceremonially passed from father to son-in-law.”
― Owen Matthews, Glorious Misadventures: Nikolai Rezanov and the Dream of a Russian America

“In summer, crossing northern Mongolia on horseback is mesmerizing. The land is so open that a day's travel appears not to change one's place in it at all, while underfoot an apparently infinite number of tiny gerbils scramble into their holes at the sound of a horse's hooves, making the ground tremble and seethe at the periphery of one's vision. The skies on this high plateau are a deep midnight blue; they seem as big as the world. In midwinter, these steppes are an endless, featureless desert of snow.”
― Owen Matthews, Glorious Misadventures: Nikolai Rezanov and the Dream of a Russian America

“Under the Empress Elizabeth, who abolished the death penalty for most offences in 1753, the crimes for which a man could be exiled to Siberia included fortune-telling, vagrancy, 'begging with false distress', prizefighting, wife-beating, illicit tree-felling, 'recklessly driving a cart without use of reins' and for a brief puritanical period in the 1750s, even taking snuff. Until the mid-eighteenth century, these exiles were always branded, usually on the face or right hand, to prevent them ever making their way back to the world. The convicts would spend up to two years shuffling in columns to their exile along the great Siberian trunk road known as the Trakt. The jingle of their chains and the ritual cries of “Fathers, have pity on us!” as the condemned men held out their caps for food was, for all travellers, who passed them in their high-wheeled carriages, the sound of Siberia. By tradition at Tobolsk, 1100 miles from Moscow, the prisoners’ leg irons were removed – a mercy, but also a sign that they had gone too far into the wilderness for escape to be survivable.”
― Owen Matthews, Glorious Misadventures: Nikolai Rezanov and the Dream of a Russian America

“Stepan Krasheninnikov, a young botanist who became the Bering expedition's chronicler, found the natives of Kamchatka unusually degenerate and disgusting even by Siberian standards. They 'eat their own lice and wash in urine...share their food with their dogs and smell of fish', Krasheninnikov reported. They also 'cannot count beyond three without using their fingers'.”
― Owen Matthews, Glorious Misadventures: Nikolai Rezanov and the Dream of a Russian America

“Any historian who sets out to search for a hero will almost inevitably uncover something of the scoundrel. Heroism, it seems, is visible only through a long lens. And so it was with Nikolai Rezanov. I followed the man's shade from the boulevards and palaces of St Petersburg to the squat rain-dripping counting houses of Pskov, where he passed a dreary provincial apprenticeship. Travelling by train, coal truck and bouncing Lada, I tracked him from the Siberian city of Irkutsk, once the capital of Russia's wild east, into the land of the Buryats and to the borders of China. I crunched along the black sand beaches of Petropavlovsk in Kamchatka and the black sand beaches of Kodiak Island, Alaska, at opposite ends of the Pacific. I stood in the remains of the presidio where Rezanov had danced with Conchita and shivered in the rain on the windy outcrop known as Castle Rock in Sitka, once the citadel of New Archangel, where he had spent the cold, hungry winter of 1805–6. And I spent hours – many hours, since Rezanov was a bureaucrat, a courtier and an ambassador who wrote something almost every day of his life – in the company of the reports, diaries and letters in which Rezanov described his ideas and circumstances voluminously, but his feelings only barely. It is only in the last three years of his life, far from home and viciously bullied by the officers of the round-the-world voyage he believed he was commanding, that the man himself begins to emerge from the officialese, indignant and in pain.”
― Owen Matthews, Glorious Misadventures: Nikolai Rezanov and the Dream of a Russian America

“In Italy ‘ruins generally form themselves’, quipped the Italian, ‘but in St Petersburg they are built from scratch’.”
― Owen Matthews, Glorious Misadventures: Nikolai Rezanov and the Dream of a Russian America

“This Mister Rezanov was a dynamic fellow, hot tempered, a dedicated scribbler, a talker, with a head more inclined to making castles in the air in his study than to making great deeds come true in the world.”
― Owen Matthews, Glorious Misadventures: Nikolai Rezanov and the Dream of a Russian America