If you've been to Russia, you must have noticed: Russians are definitely not into handshakes. This is something worth making a mental note of: even today, with all the Western influence, handshakes are only really appropriate between male friends who thus demonstrate some kind of masculine camaraderie. But handshakes are definitely not part of introduction routines, so two Russians (male or otherwise), being introduced to each other, are just supposed to nod and smile to each other. Same at a workplace: only high-flying business partners at a mega-corporation committee assembly might greet each other with a handshake, but not normal business partners at a normal meeting. In Russia's business world, the role of a handshake is limited to sealing commercial deals.
I actually had problems with that as, after having lived in Europe for a few years, I automatically offered my hand to a new Russian acquaintance or business partner, only to meet their puzzled stares and tactfully remove it (yes, Russians, being actually very knowleadgeable about all things etiquette, know very well that to refuse a handshake is an insult to the person who's offered it, but a handshake takes them unawares, they're just not used to expecting one!)
Okay, so maybe you would like to know why Russians don't shake hands? This funny etiquette quirk has quite a bit of history behind it.
Until the early 1920s, Russians followed the exact same etiquette as the rest of the Western world. Even the Revolution of 1917 which attempted to glamorize working-class vulgarity, didn't mean to cancel handshakes. The best place to learn about the cultural changes the Revolution brought onto us all would be Mikhail Bulgakov's 1925 short SF novel, Heart Of A Dog. Scary and humorous at the same time, this is an entertaining story with a sinister message giving you a peek into the hearts of those revolutionary "new society" low-lifes. And the film made after the novel in 1988 by a cult Russian director Vladimir Bortko, Mikhail A. Bulgakov Heart Of a Dog (Sobachie Serdtse) is arguably one of Russia's best TV movies of all times.
So -- back to our handshakes. Watch the movie (which is shot by a native Russian and researched to near death, so it's as authentic as a historical movie can get, and then some) and tell me: do you see many handshakes in it? What happened, then?
The quick and sad answer is: the Spanish flu. Two million Russians died from it by 1920, and the word itself, ispanka, became a Russian synonym for a Biblical-scale plague -- aggravated even further by the fact that the Spanish flu epidemics in Russia coincided with the malnourished, immune-deficient and terribly unhygienic years of the Civil war. So beginning in the early 1920s, Soviet medical authorities embarked on a Hygiene Crusade. They wallpapered the whole country with posters depicting the dangers of unwashed hands, unwiped noses, kisses, and... handshakes. Handshakes were forbidden in offices and at workplaces. Big poets like Vladimir Mayakovsky, who never shied away from a snappy little rhyme with a message, versified medical leaflets for dummies telling their barely-literate small town readers what ills could befall them if they shook hands with other people.
And while we're on the subject of Mayakovski and hygiene poems, some of you must have read The Twelve Chairs (European Classics), the Russian comic novel of all times. One of its characters is a struggling young poet, Lapis Trubetskoi, who's busy all day concocting and selling half-baked verse for various trade publications... one of his hygiene-targeted creations went,
Gavrila took to bed with gangrene,
The gangrene made Gavrila sick...
Well, the little secret is, Lapis Trubetskoi is actually the authors' spoof of Mayakovsky and his hygiene rhymes. Not many people even in Russia know it, so you're very welcome to this bit of arcane information!
So the moral of the story is, Russians have lost their once-inbred ability to shake hands to a wide and aggressive 1920s hygiene campaign aimed at stopping them from doing it. So now they don't. Simples!
The Best Russian Books in English
Forget War and Peace: this blog offers reviews of fun and interesting Russian books in English, links to their Amazon pages, interviews with new and upcoming Russian authors, with the emphasis on Russian genre fiction: LitRPG, science fiction, fantasy, thrillers, romance, mystery and other popular reads.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Here's a lovely collection of photos taken in spring 1896 by Czech photographer František Krátký during the ill-fated coronation of Nicholas II. Authentic street scenes from a professional reporter!
Please note that most people in the streets are commoners: tradesmen, peasants, merchants, students and low-rank government workers. Only very occasionally you can see a well-dressed man; as for women, I've only spotted one picture with two hat-wearing ladies, and the rest are all low-class women. There's also a decent amount of uniforms (military, police, and governmental clerks who too were obliged to wear special uniforms) but the majority of people in the Russian streets in those days were commoners -- women wearing headscarves, men wearing high boots -- both are signs of belonging to lower classes (noblemen only wore high boots when hunting in their country estates, and noblewomen NEVER wore headscarves). Well-off people either rode in carriages or walked in parks, but only walked in the street if absolutely necessary. If they needed something, they sent servants to fetch it. On one of the pictures, you can see a peasant nanny with her charge, a little girl from a well-off family.
You can click on the pictures to make them bigger. Enjoy!
Finally, a few tragic pictures from the Khodynskoe Pole -- The Khodynka Field, where mass celebrations of the coronation took place, ending in 1389 people trampled to death and over 1500 maimed and injured as the five-hundred-thousand-strong crowd charged to receive "tsar's gifts": free snacks and cheap coronation mugs. The uneven ground with lots of holes and ditches and the overall lack of preparation led to this tragedy which, as superstitious Russian people later believed, had become a bad omen that foreshadowed the tragic end of the last Russian Emperor's entire family who faced the Bolsheviks' firing squad in 1918.
Remarkably, the newly-baked Emperor witnessed the accident first-hand as the coronation cortege passed the carts piled up with dead bodies on its way to the coronation banquet. Nicholas was also promptly informed of the tragedy by the police but didn't acknowledge the fact formally not wishing to spoil the festivities for those who were in the mood to celebrate, and the coronation banquet followed by a ball took place mere miles from the place of mourning.
Although later the new Emperor's family attempted to rectify the first impression by visiting some of the injured survivors in hospitals as well as donating money to the victims' families, Russian people promptly nicknamed Nicholas II "The Bloody" --the name under which he was most commonly known in Russia until his own tragic death in 1918.
Here're some Khodynka pictures made by the Czech photographer: