The (Incomplete) Diaries of Grand Duke Konstantin Konstantinovich — March 1880

14th March. Friday — St. Petersburg

In yesterday's order for the guards' crew, the officers were outlined according to the courts. On the frigate "Duke of Edinburgh", on which my father intends to send me as a senior lieutenant to circumnavigate the world, midshipmen have been appointed: both Stelimans, Prince Shcherbatov, Nilov, Prince Baryatinsky, Arsenyev, Count Tolstoy, and Prince Dondukov-Korsakov. They're saying that A. V. Menshikov will be the second lieutenant on the "Duke". I am glad that during the three-year voyage I will live among good, familiar, and friendly people. All my dreams have come true; it remains to thank God that I won't leave society comrades with whom I have lived for almost ten years.—It's just a pity that Poretsky and Dzhanger didn't get on the "Duke". Last Tuesday, at the party of Countess Annette Komarovskaya, Turgenev was telling me about the most recent and not completely finished picture by Kuindzhi; he described it so artistically that I certainly wanted to compare the story with the original myself. Yesterday Ilya Alexandrovich and I went to find Kuindzhi's workshop, he lives on Vasilievsky Island, on Maly Prospekt, f[loor]. 16, r[oom]. 4. Barely found the workshop after crawling through different corners for a quarter of an hour. It is situated beneath the roof itself and, probably, was converted for photography. Kuindzhi himself is short, fat, with a big blond head and lively blue eyes. He did not know me and looked at me with some surprise, especially since he did not expect to find an art lover beneath a naval uniform. However, he very politely invited us into the studio and put us in front of his painting. I was sort of frozen in place. I saw before me the image of a wide river; a full moon illuminates it for a long distance, about thirty versts. I experienced this feeling when I went out on an elevated hill, from which in the distance a majestic river illuminated by the moon is visible. It takes your breath away, you can't tear yourself away from the dazzling, magical image, the soul yearns. In Kuindzhi's painting all this is expressed, at the sight of it you also feel that you are in front of a real river, shining with a bright light in the middle of the night's darkness. I told Kuindzhi that I was buying his wonderful work; I deeply loved this painting and would sacrifice a lot for it. All day afterwards, when I closed my eyes I saw this picture.

15th March. Saturday —2nd w[ee]k of fasting

I was afraid for Olya all this day. I consider the fifteenth to be fatal. Eugene died on the fifteenth, Gavrishev—on the fifteenth, Vyacheslav also on the fifteenth. There is still no news about Olya's deliverance from burden. Yulia Feodorovna Abaza invited me to a musical morning. They played an excerpt from the opera "The Demon"by A. Rubinstein. The author himself accompanied on piano. A. V. Panaeva sang the part of Tamara, the Demon was sung by Ryanishnikov. Elena of Mecklenburg sang the Angel. [They] played the first scene of the first act and the entire last act. I found that the music of "The Demon" is better in a room compared with a theatre. "The Demon" is certainly very difficult to stage well. Beginning with the figure of the Demon itself and [continuing with] the whole setting. This opera is wasted on a stage—Pryanishnikov was very good; his voice was remarkably pleasant and his manner of singing also...

16th March. Sunday

The Empress' health is getting worse and worse, Botkin has little hope. The divorce was refused. Prince Orlov, our ambassador to France, has arrived in St. Petersburg. He listened to obednya with us. They sang beautifully...

17th March. Monday

The day of St. Alexei Man of God, the name day of A. V. Menshikov. I gave him a black silver pig with red eyes, it is presently in great use and called porte-bonheur...On Friday I planned an evening, again on behalf of Mama and in her rooms. This time the bait will be I. S. Turgenev. Eugenie [sic] will arrive with her husband, Varvara Ilinichna, Tatiana Mikhailovna, Ms. Naryshkina, Ms. Mukhortova etc.

19th March. Wednesday

The people from my company assigned to Power were sent to Krondstadt today. Vereshchagin's paintings were exhibited in the Concert Hall of the Winter Palace, where they were viewed by the Sovereign. I heard that he was dissatisfied with Vershchagin's direction and did not want to see him. There was an invalid concert at the Bolshoi Theatre. I spent a lovely evening with Vera Vasilievna Butakova: she promised to introduce me to Tchaikovsky, our best composer, and invited him too. Also there were his brother Anatoli, Apukhtin, and Shcherbatov. Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky looks to be about 35 years old, though his face and greying hair give him an older appearance. He is small, rather thin, with a short beard and gentle intelligent eyes. His movements, manner of speaking and his whole appearance expose an extremely well-mannered, educated, and kind person. He was brought up at the law school, was very unhappy in family life and is now exclusively engaged in music. Apukhtin is known for his exorbitant thickness and beautiful poetic works, which he never agrees to print: he remembers and recites them by heart. Vera Vasilievna begged him to recite something to us; he recited "Venice", his little-known poem. It is so good that, as he speaks, you become afraid that it will end soon, you would like to listen to it again and again. I was forced to play; I wanted to play a Tchaikovsky romance but was afraid. His brother sings; I accompanied him with "A Tear Trembles", then I played "No, only the one knew" and then a romance B-molle[sic?]. P. Tchaikovsky was asked to play something from his new, as yet unpublished opera "Joan of Arc", he sat behind the piano and played a chorus prayer. We were all in ecstasy from the wonderful music, this was the moment when the people recognised a prophetic gift in Joan and she addresses the crowd, offering her exultant prayer to the Lord God. The form of the composition resembles the prayer of the 1st act of Lohengrin: the voices gradually rise, and finally, together with the orchestra, they reach the optissimo with the highest note. This morceau dénsemble should be extremely good and effective on stage. After dinner, Apukhtin read a few more verses of his composition. We parted at 2 o'clock—Tchaikovsky made the most pleasant impression on me. 

22nd March. Saturday

This morning the Tsesarevich held a parade rehearsal in the manege of the Horse Guards. Mitya and I coped quite well with our duties as aides. After Verkhovsky's lecture I went to the company. I was at Varvara Ilinichna's, her son came, a charming little blond boy, sat on the floor and talked very freely. He definitely wants to write Russian history when he grows up. Yesterday evening with Turgenev was upsetting, he was suspected several times of thinking in a revolutionary direction, and though these conjectures are not at all solid, I cannot make Mama the target of vague, meaningless rumours for nothing. —As a consolation I began the evening with Dostoevsky, invited Evgenia, Varvara Ilinichna, Tatiana Mikhailovna. The evening was held in Mama's small study, and I sent out invitations on her behalf, though she could not come herself due to illness. Evgenia was very pleased with Dostoevsky, we talked with him all evening...

23rd March. Sunday

In the morning there was a rehearsal in the manege of the Horse Guards. Prayed very well at obednya. Then they dragged me to the Yacht Club, to ride on an Iceboat. I'm not a fan of all the exercises that the British call sport, and when the sport is also associated with cold, I completely lose heart. But it was awkward to refuse; sailing, although across the ice, involves the sea. I was very cold, I was almost late for dinner at the Sovereign's...

25th. Annunciation

The terrible day has come. Mitya and I were at the Horse Guards' manege by 11 o'clock, it was lavishly decorated with flags, cuirasses, pikes, and helmets. Although it was a little unpleasant for me to participate in the Horse Guards parade as a company commander in a guards carriage, it's still good to occasionally flaunt the beautiful white uniform, I know that it suits me more than all the others, some tell me that with a helmet on my head I look like Nicholas I. In the manege plenty of ladies, impatiently waiting for the spectacle, filled the boxes. Finally, all in full dress, we stood in our places. Generals began to ride up in order of ranks. The tense expectation of the Tsar's arrival increased with each passing moment. Finally, he appeared—"God Save the Tsar" sounded, and a thunderous "hurrah" resounded through the whole manege. The parade was very successful. The Sovereign was rather pleased. I diligently wrote down the music of my new romance, it's almost ready. In the Winter Palace in the concert hall at 6 o'clock the Sovereign had a big dinner for officers of the Cavalry Regiment; I was again in horse guards uniform. Sat between Novoseltsev and Seryozha Bibikov, Varvara Ilinichna's brother. Went to a charity concert made up exclusively of Tchaikovsky's works. Was in red uniform and was terribly embarrassed until the Tsarevna arrived and sat next to me. I had to hurry home, but she wouldn't release me, afraid of being left alone. Finally, we left together...

29th March — 4th w[ee]k of fasting. 

I again want to start writing notes about the 10 days by Silistria; I don't know with what to start and in what form to describe...I read "Notes from the War of 77-78" by a regimental priest in the "Russian Bulletin". 

30th March. 

I'm writing late at night, under the impression of a delightfully spent evening: at mine were P. I. Tchaikovsky, Shcherbatov, and Nilov; the conversation, mainly, was about music and opera. We decided to invite Tchaikovsky to go with us on the "Duke" around the world; he really capitulates to our offer. But there is a major obstacle, whether the authorities will agree. It would be good if fate would arrange this matter. 

31st March.

The other day they chose me to be an honorary member of the society for lovers of natural history, anthropology and ethnography—these Muscovites, probably, felt that I nurture tender feelings for Moscow. 

Alexandra Feodorovna: Misogyny, Medicine, and Won't Somebody Think of the Children?

Hysterical, self-absorbed, and hypochondriacal—this is how many have come to regard Alexandra Feodorovna, the last empress of Russia. You will probably have heard about how she spent her days needlessly lounging in bed or on her famous mauve room sofa, downing medicines and complaining to her long-suffering physicians. 

'It was all in her head' say an alarming number of historians. She was so desperate to be an invalid that she willed herself into being one. Sciatica, heart trouble, insomnia. It all points to a classic case of hysterical woman syndrome; when will they learn to calm down? 

A statement often thrown around is that she neglected her children—forcing them to sit at her bedside all hours of the day, or else forbidding them completely from visiting her. She was so desperate for their attention (something else caused by that pesky hysterical woman syndrome) that she isolated them from the outside world and hindered any attempts of theirs to make friends. 

Most of you will know that all of this is utter rubbish. It takes little research to prove that her children had numerous friends. What troubles me, though, and what is slightly more subjective is the degree to which Alexandra and her children suffered as a result of her alleged illnesses.

I believe that Alexandra suffered a great deal. Yes, psychologically, but also physically. I believe that her illnesses and pains were likely caused (and/or exacerbated) by her mental state—but that they were undeniably real. I also believe that her children were perfectly fine. 

Dearest Mama

Sometime over the next few months, my mother will (hopefully) undergo her fifty-somethingth operation. I say 'fifty-somethingth' because we stopped keeping count a good long time ago, and this is our collective best estimate.

My mother suffers from numerous health issues, the most prominent being...well, nobody really knows. It's so rare that it doesn't have a name. As such, I'm sure you'll understand my reluctance to share potentially identifying details and will suffice to say that it's not very pleasant. 

My family has been lucky enough over the past twenty-odd years to afford the best consultants, specialists, and hospitals. If we couldn't then she would be dead. Absolutely and unequivocally. What horrifies me most is that there are doubtless dozens of women who suffer from the same set of symptoms and have died, or will die, due to luck of birth. If my mother—wealthy white woman that she is—had such difficulty being diagnosed in the first place, never mind having money to throw at treatment after the fact, then God knows what others have had to endure. 

As if that's not enough, she has also suffered countless complications from the operations themselves. My father often recalls taking her to A&E in excruciating pain, and having to personally call her city-based consultant at two in the morning because the local NHS doctors very obviously had no clue what to do or who to contact. On a separate occasion, I remember sitting in an English lesson and trying to surreptitiously google sepsis survival rates because that's what I'd heard the paramedics discussing when they'd carried her out of the house the previous night. 

I'm used to sitting at someone's bedside, or being unable to see them at all. I watched most of my favourite TV shows for the first time on my mother's bed, on my ancient laptop propped up on a stack of cushions between us. I learnt how to occupy myself from a very young age because, often, my mother would be too ill to play with me and my father too tired. 

I know what it's like to be the daughter of an unwell mother.

Have You Tried Not Being Fat?

I suffer from PCOS. It's not at all rare or dangerous, but all the same it's something I'd rather not have. I also suffer from ill-defined and as yet undiagnosed pain in my arms and hands. This, as well as the fact that I am a woman (as implied by the whole PCOS deal), is a winning combination to ensure that I am brushed off by any and all health professionals.  

PCOS is something that exclusively affects those assigned female at birth, and as such it's not something that a lot of research has gone into understanding. This, despite the fact that it's estimated to affect 1 in 10 women. I take Norethisterone to treat irregular periods, and that's great, but this was only prescribed because my mother made one of her doctors see me after I hadn't had a period in nearly a year. My regular GPs (all men, believe it or not) told me repeatedly that the only way to manage it was to lose weight and take painkillers. 

Losing weight and taking painkillers is also what will apparently cure my arm and hand pain. They've done all the tests, they don't know what's causing it, and at this point it's clear they have no interest in finding out. 

In talking to some of my female relatives and friends, as well as reading various pieces of online testimony by strangers, I discovered that this is not uncommon. If you are at all overweight, then losing weight is the cure for all your ills. If doctors do not know what's causing your symptoms, they are likely to conclude that the symptoms are psychological. Women have to repeatedly complain of something in order to be taken seriously. This often leads to being labelled a time-waster or chronic complainer, which only exacerbates the problem. 

Sexism and misogyny are pervasive in Western society, but especially in health and medicine. When compared to men with the same symptoms, women are:

- less likely to be given pain medication.

- more likely to have a delay in diagnosis.

- more likely to be prescribed mood-altering drugs.

Just to name a few.

I'm Sure This Was Supposed to Be About Alexandra Feodorovna 

As you've probably guessed (or so I would hope), I'm deeply interested in how history has painted Alexandra Feodorovna, and how she continues to be viewed today. 

I do not claim that she was without fault, but I'm convinced that the hatred and dismissal she receives are amplified greatly by the fact that she was a woman. Often, I find that she's judged more harshly than her husband—the man at the helm while the ship went down, driving it directly into several icebergs with little need for his wife's input to do so. 

Why historians are still judging women as mothers like it's any reflection of their personal qualities is beyond me, but here we are. I can tell these people firsthand that being a so-called bad mother does not make someone a bad person and vice versa. Why do they expect that Alexandra should have borne her suffering in silence? For the sake of her husband? Her children? If her health issues were solely psychological, as so many seem to think, then why does that make her any less entitled to complain or receive treatment? Unless they think that poor mental health is something that ought to be belittled. 

The reason for all this is, of course, obvious. Good women are quiet and obedient. They don't let their families see their suffering, much less let it impact them in any meaningful way. Good women are cheery and optimistic. They always have a smile on their face and are never anything but friendly to all they meet. 

I am not a good woman. My mother is not a good woman. Alexandra Feodorovna was not a good woman. 

We shouldn't have to be.

The (Incomplete) Diaries of Grand Duke Konstantin Konstantinovich — September, October 1879

 2nd September — Baltic Port

Left the Baltic Port by sail, without any steam, in the morning on my watch at 11 o'clock. During an emergency I'm [to be] on the forecastle, in charge. Sometimes I get involved with the general work, but often I treat the fuss around me so cooly, and such apathy finds me that I fall into a dream, think about something and do not see or hear anything. My comrades will have easily noticed a long time ago that I serve in the navy out of necessity, and not out of my own attraction. I don't brag about my nautical knowledge, and only try to study and learn more. We all love Pavel Pavlovich very much. P. P. Novosilsky, captain of the II rank, commander of the "Svetlana". Though he is often very angry with us for inability or negligence. But he is so earnest and has such a love for naval things, which he knows to the core, and will always teach and help so well that he disarms us all when he is angry with us...

3rd September

With what joy I stood [my] last watch on the move, and did not go downstairs!

4th September

On my watch they started dragging. The flag was lowered at the Merchant's Gate: I crossed myself. Sadly. To lower the flag for the last time, this solemnity really affects the soul. [We] were drawn into the military harbour remarkably quickly, in less than two hours. It's a pity, that the first wonderful minutes of being again at home passed in anticipation. Yesterday, when I approached the palace at Strelna and really did not know whether Mama and Mitya were there, and calmed down when [I] saw the light in the windows—how [my] heart was beating. One of the best feelings in life is expectation and joy when you enter your own door. Approaching the house, every stone, each most insignificant object recalled something from the past. With what pleasure I ran up the stairs and saw the first familiar face. 

24th September

Today, made a big walk to Gatchina. Having arrived at Gatchina, we went straight to see the palace. [We] walked, walked, wandering through all the rooms, curiously examining portraits and all sorts of valuables. Most of all, we were occupied by the rooms of Pavel I, and in particular his bed, transported from St. Petersburg, on which he died. There are spots on the linen and the pillows, similar to bloodstains, which made a heavy impression on me. We stayed for a long time with Nikolai Feodorovich and Pereslavtsev in Pavel Petrovich's rooms, rummaging through his books and papers. We found a bible in a red velvet cover with gold crosses, nested in which are some Masonic addresses with Greek and Latin sayings. In addition, there were several books of mystical content and other writings: memoir de Sully, herbarium, drawings of some unseen flags, sermons, some books from the end of the last century, etc. We were taken to the place of the royal hunt, we were in pens, where wolves and foxes ran free around us, they showed us borzoi and hounds...

26th September — "Svetlana"

In the evening after [playing] screw*, Nikolai Feodorovich read to us a conversation between two of Dostoevsky's Brothers Karamazov. We listened intently to the development of thoughts and collisions of human inconsistencies, about the torment of children, about the end of existence and the impossibility of harmony. A fierce dispute arose, intelligence went right from the [collective] mind, the whole room was shouting and, of course, did not understand anything. What great power have Dostoevsky's thoughts! He suggests such ideas as become eerie and [make] the hair stand on end. Yes, no country has produced such a writer yet, everything else pales before him.

30th September — St. Petersburg

Today, while we were having tea at my Aunt's and everyone around me was speaking briskly, a blissful moment came over me: I felt as if I were in the kingdom of heaven, I watched, smiling at those around me; life seemed cheerful and pleasant and nothing, it seemed, could disturb my spiritual peace. But soon this state was overshadowed by the thought that such a moment came from a new acquaintance with Christie, i.e. from love for a new friend. It was shameful for me to admit that I can still love friends, believe in friendship enthusiastically, like a child. Today, somehow, my love for Elena suddenly seized me, a longing for her came over me, and my life seemed broken and miserable without her.

8th October[sic] — Strelna

Read the letters of A. S. Pushkin in the complete collection. I liked one letter written in the year '22 to [his] brother in French. Puhskin's brother was leaving school and preparing to enter the world; in the letter I liked the advice about meeting new people. Pushkin warns his younger brother against passions and charms, advises to perhaps have a slim opinion about new acquaintances: it will destroy itself upon closer attachment; thus you will not encounter sad disappointments that so painfully affect a young, trusting soul and destroy the charm and attractiveness of life. I copied this passage into my book.

6th October — Strelna

Christie did not come, and I was dissatisfied with the evening. If only Christie and I together could have had a nice time on the Turkish sofa, stirring up the soul with exorbitant conversations.—In this respect, this captivating friendship with Christie—a true blessing for my little spiritual world, and I thank God for a friend whose presence has such a good influence on me. With all my soul's strength I grasp at every new, sublime thought that keeps me from the dirt of life, from everyday mundanity and empty vanity...

8th October — Marble Palace

I don't seem to have observed in this notebook yet that in the New Year I want to have [a?] company, but until that time I will watch closely. 

*Card game

Source: https://imwerden.de/pdf/romanov_konstantin_dnevniki_vospominaniya_stikhi_pisma_1998__ocr.pdf

The (Incomplete) Diaries of Grand Duke Konstantin Konstantinovich — August 1879

 1st August — Finnish Gulf — "Svetlana"

I am still dissatisfied with sailing work. I often get scared when [the thought of] an independent sailing watch comes into my head. I pray to God a lot, delve into everything surrounding me. I willingly ask advice from Pavel Pavlovich (commander of the "Svetlana"), Skrydlov is not particularly trustworthy. Black moments came flooding in today, I was overcome with melancholy, it seemed to me that I don't know anything and will never learn to be a decent sailor. I reminisced about home, about the Pavlovsky rooms, about the balcony with climbing plants, about quiet days. But here you are preparing for something unexpected every minute...

3rd August — "Svetlana"

Again my head ached and I grew despondent. When my heard hurts, it always makes me melancholic. I remember poetry, I think of how good it would be to not have to serve at all and to study on one's own, and most importantly to stay at home. I kept hearing the wonderful words of "Demon"...

4th August — Baltic Sea

In the morning read about the newest ships of the German fleet. It must have a great future. Watch from 1-6 o'clock. On artillery alarm commanded a battery. About 6 o'clock [we] tore up a training mine—at 12 we were underway, sails fixed, dead calm. 

5th August 

I read Dostoevsky's short story "Poor Folk", the third day of my reading it and I finished it today. I was so terribly sad following the faces from this story, I wanted to find out where in the world there are such people and help them. I scarcely managed to hold it together in the wardroom, went running to my own cabin, knelt by the bed and burst into tears. Couldn't calm down for a long time, the sad incidents of my life came to mind and I cried more and more. All that I have felt over the last few days, all mental hardships flowed out with these tears. Now I feel quite well, and I'm not lazy to go on watch, and am not afraid of anything in the future, and prayed well. 

8th August — Kiel

Again despondency has begun to take me apart, [the prospect of] various festivities in Copenhagen scare me. I try to drive from myself the thought that I don't want to serve in the Navy—this is my home—I must submit to fate. 

9th August

Prayed hard, asking God to help me in my twenty-second year to be an honest man. In the wardroom I was warmly congratulated...

13th August — Copenhagen

I was greeted so sweetly, so cordially, as if I had come to my own home. Both the King and Queen greeted and questioned [me] so affectionately. I was very glad to see our ducky Tsarevna, she has been visiting her former homeland for two months. She took me to her children who wanted to see me, they were lying in their beds and waiting for me...Then the Tsarevna took me to another room, where there were Crown Princess Louise and Princess Alix, beautiful as day, one looks at her [and] she is so amazingly beautiful and sweet.—Then we all came down to the round room for the evening. It was in this room that I saw our Tsarevna for the first time, she was in mourning for her fiancé the Tsesarevich and had not yet been engaged to Sasha. It was 14 years ago in the year '65. 

15th August — Copenhagen

Went to make visits to Princess Caroline, the Crown Prince, and the Dowager Queen. Stood on watch from 6-midnight. Such a life as this is very tedious.

17th August

My watch was from 8 in the morning. The wind (s[outh]w[esterly]) is very fresh, and roars. The senior officer went ashore to the Thorvaldsen Museum, I stayed for him, [so] for the watch I was instead joined by Tolstoy. Thus, for a few hours I'm a senior officer—caliph for an hour; running around the decks, seeing if everything's in order. Second anchor was made. Very fresh. I went ashore...found the Queen, Minnie, and Alix at tea, immediately sat on the floor—ma position[sic?]. Then Minnie took me to Alix's room, lay down on the sofa there, and I sat down on the floor again. So we spent the time until dinner...It is clear that there is and has always been family happiness [here], there are clear and simple relations between everyone, not like we have. I understand that both Sasha and Minnie come here to take a break from the tedious, awkward moral situation in St. Petersburg. Even the children are here somehow more cheerful, freer and at ease. Returned around 9 o'clock. 

18th August

From hour to hour the yacht "Tsarevna" is expected, on which the Tsesarevich should come from Stockholm. At 9 o'clock in the morning went ashore with officers on a lifeboat. Went with Tolstoy, Denisov, and the senior doctor, first to change money and then to the Thorvaldsen Museum. I was overcome by a reverent feeling at the sight of the famous sculptor's simple grave, covered with ivy, in the midst of all his works. I liked his Hermes the best. 

19th August

Finally, the Tsesarevich arrived at 6 in the morning on a private steamer from Malmo. After breakfast I went to visit him and stayed there all day. It was nice to see Sasha and Minnie together, they both look so happy. This time the dinner was festive with music, there were many invited guests who dined in another room, and the family separately in the dining room—the King got up and drank to the health of Sasha, who was very embarrassed and blushed despite his considerable size and heavy form. Sasha is modest and shy to the extreme. In the evening everyone went to the Dowager Queen; she has kept remarkably well, one can't say that she is in her ninth decade; I really like her, such a nice, important old lady, presently you see that she is a queen; both peace and tranquility reign over her, everything is so simple and nice and at the same time on a big foot*. 

20th August

I've been on my watch since noon...telegraphed the Tsesarevich that I would not be there. I haven't yet said anything about our frigate monk; because of him today some troubles occurred on the frigate, which I will use to describe the character of the priest. Father Ilya the second joined the frigate during its voyage from the Novgorod Skovorodsky Monastery; his appearance is very unattractive; he is an elderly man with sparse grey-streaked hair, his forehead is wrinkled and completely sloping upwards—a sign of poor development. Indeed, Father Ilya is extremely, stupidly underdeveloped and he is completely uneducated; he speaks badly, stammering and stuttering even during worship, and pronounces the letter "v" in little Russian [Ukrainian] as "u". As a dark person, he certainly does not mind strong drinks.—In our wardroom society is divided into two halves; at one end of the table are gold-navy, at the other—silver, i.e mechanics and navigator. Today, at dinner, one of the navigators got the Father drunk so that he completely went beyond the bounds of decency, especially as a spiritual person.—Then some went to laugh at the priest, to encourage him to preach a sermon, others, partly me, were indignant about this. However, I confess I could not resist and listened to Father Ilya's "word about the soul". Of course the "word" was a joke, and finally by common efforts [we] persuaded the priest to go to bed in his own cabin. Then the senior officer began to protest, finding that it was extremely indecent to get a priest drunk, that it was disrespectful to the wardroom and disrespectful to the clergy; the guilty young navigator got badly hurt, he was beseiged and he fell silent. 

21st August

After breakfast went ashore. Went to an antiquary, bought myself some old carved cabinets, bought a bronze of Thorvaldsen's Mercury. 

25th August — Copenhagen

I was on watch from 8-12 and during this watch the frigate was visited by the Tsesarevich and Tsarevna. After inspecting the frigate, the Tsesarevich wished to see sailing lessons. We set the sails and then secured them. Then [we] sounded the alarm for the battery; the artillery drill went much better—the best old sailors were on the barge for Sasha and on guard, so there was no one on the main rigging—it's not surprising that the sailing drill could not be brilliant. Nevertheless both the Tsesarevich and the Tsarevna were completely satisfied. 

26th August — "Svetlana"

I was terribly weary—we're leaving tomorrow. I said goodbye to everyone and thanked them for the affectionate welcome...

27th August

We weighed anchor at 7.30 in the morning. Another ten days, maybe less, and I'll be home. I count the days, the numbers, the watches, until I can be idle. Grow more and more impatient all the time.  

The (Incomplete) Diaries of Grand Duke Konstantin Konstantinovich — July 1879

 17th July — Pavlovsk

We are celebrating the 25th anniversary of Papa's deliverance from drowning. This is the day of St. Marina. Papa asked the Sovereign's permission to take a piece from the holy relics, located in the chapel of the Winter Palace in our chapel of marble. Today the relics have been brought to Pavlovsk. A moleben was served, officers who had been on the "Lefort" 25 years ago gathered [here]. We breakfasted solemnly in the Greek hall...

18th July — Krondstadt

The Sovereign reviewed the cruisers "Europe", "Asia" and "Africa"; the gliders "Robber" and "Rider", "Horseman", "Haydamak" and the corvette "Bayan" on the eastern Krondstadt path—I was in the entourage. Accompanying the Sovereign from the family were the Tsesarevich, Papa and Alexei. We left at 12 on the yacht "Alexandria" from St. Petersburg. The weather stood favourably, clouds were in the sky, over time concealing the sun; found it very warm. —The Sovereign first visited "Haydamak", then "Horseman", "Bayan", the American corvette "Enterprise" and "Europe." On "Haydamak" and on "Horseman" they sounded the alarm, the artillery drill was executed with extraordinary speed. Sails were set on the "Bayan." On "Enterprise" a ceremonial march was held. Puppet comedy*.

20th July. Ilya's day — Pavlovsk

Did a big walk with Tatiana Mikhailovna and Pavel Egorovich. We are now good friends. After breakfast all three gathered at Tatiana Mikhailovna's. General Kireyev read us a memo entitled "If we dispose of nihilism", which he wishes to give to the Sovereign. The memo examines the reasons that gave rise to nihilism, and the ways to insure the youth against it. It seems to me that Kireyev misses an advantageous opportunity to remain silent, [in] wanting to give his memo to the Sovereign. I am convinced, that not only will his advice not affect anything, but will even miss [the Sovereign's] ear, even this is the best of evils: he may pay for his words. But I respect Kireyev precisely for the fact that he always acts according to his conscience, and not because it is profitable for him.

22nd July — Pavlovsk

Composed the poem "Willow."

23rd July — Gatchina

We—that is, Mama, Tanya Lazareva and I—conducted Grand Duchess Maria Pavlovna and Vladimir to Gatchina. Once their train set off, we were met at Gatchina Station by P.S. Keppen. We four got into a carriage and were taken to the palace through the garden. Gatchina, its park, its palace bear the stamp of loneliness, ancient history and mystery; whenever you arrive there, you are seized by the spirit of antiquity, which does not belong to any Petersburg country palaces. At Gatchina, involuntarily, from every corner of the old palace chambers, it seems as though there can be heard hidden sighs, muffled tears, and laughter, and laughter [sic], and the fun of past pleasant years. We stayed in the Chinese Gallery for a long time, considering old portraits and ornate Chinese [objects?]. The sun, shining through the yellow glass, illuminated the bronze and Chinese porcelain with a magical golden colour; I did not want to leave there. —We did not manage to see the rooms of Pavel I and his bed on which he died—there was no time before the train departed...                                                    

29th July — Kronstadt

At 9 o'clock in the morning we weighed anchor and got underway. Under the guidance of Skrydlov and employing the advice of the other officers, I was busy cleaning the anchor. My first watch while we were moving was at 12 o'clock in the afternoon. 

Умер — (Translation of) a Poem by Grand Duke Konstantin Konstantinovich

A relatively quick translation of my favourite KR poem. Notes:

1. This translation isn't 1-1 (though I don't think I've strayed terribly far). Unlike my usual work, I decided that since it's a poem I should try and value the general vibe over getting it as close to the original as possible. Let me know if it worked.

2. At times, he uses what I assume to be nosism which I have translated simply as 'I' for ease of reading. I say assume because I could easily have interpreted it wrongly, but some lines (in my unprofessional opinion) make little sense if they are actually supposed to indicate 'we'.

3. I'm fairly certain it scans with the accompanying Plevitskaya song, though annoyingly some lines of the poem are omitted from the song anyway.

So without further ado...

My New Year's Resolution Was to Consume Only Queer Media—Here's How That Went

Some of you may remember that since January I have been keeping track of every book I have read and every film/TV series I have watched, giving it a small review or comment, rating out of ten, and colour-coding it in a spreadsheet based on whether or not I would consider it queer media. I did start with some criteria, but threw them out early on because I realised things were slipping through the net. As a result, my categorisation is pretty much vibes-based. I am sure that some of my choices contradict themselves and many of you may disagree. To you I say, it's harder to find where the line should be drawn than you think. As a matter of fact, Plebs (Season 6) gets a special rating because I really could not work out where to put it. 

The categories are: Green (absolutely queer), Purple (debatable), Yellow (Plebs Season 6), Red (not queer).

Though I have tried my best to flag up any particularly egregious slips, product may still contain spoilers. Read ahead at your own risk.

BOOKS

A Marvellous Light by Freya Marske — 8/10 — Maybe I was just feeling uncharacteristically generous towards smutty YA novels when I read this, but as William Morris' number one fan I wholeheartedly endorse it.

Carmilla by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu — 5/10 — For all that Le Fanu tries to make her out as some sort of evil mastermind, Carmilla is in fact quite stupid.

Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov — 10/10 — This is what literature's all about, baby.

Letters of Anastasia Nikolaevna (translated) by Helen Azar — 10/10 — Does exactly what it says on the tin.

The House of Special Purpose by John Boyne — 0/10 — See here.

The Still by David Feintuch — 6/10 — Predictable and often exhausting. I am, however, in awe of Feintuch's bravery to deliberately write a protagonist who just really sucks for like 4/5ths of the book.

The Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice — 8/10 — As a fan of the first book's ending, I simply choose to believe that this is Lestat's fanfiction about himself.

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins-Reid — 5/10 — I did not care about a single one of these characters.

The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee — 7/10 — A bisexual character who is in fact bisexual? Astounding.

The Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy by Mackenzi Lee — 3/10 — Felicity Montague is my go-to example of a 'feminist' character who isn't really a feminist and instead has a ton of internalised misogyny to work through. 

The Nobleman's Guide to Scandal and Shipwrecks by Mackenzi Lee — 8/10 — This was uncomfortably like reading my own inner monologue spilled out on a page. Fantastic job.

The House by the Dvina: a Russian Childhood by Eugenie Fraser — 7/10 — I'd like to issue a general recommendation for this and also the accompanying documentary.

The Princess Cassamassima by Henry James — 8/10 — I loved the vast majority of it but the awful awful non-ending means that I can't in good conscience recommend it.

Elektra by Jennifer Saint — 4/10 — Oh look, somebody else who needs to search up what the word 'feminist' means.

Maurice by E.M. Forster — 9/10 — Brilliant quality aside, how cool is it that this exists at all‽

The Intoxicating Mr. Lavelle by Neil Blackmore — 4/10 — Blackmore imagines himself profound. He is not. In addition, having read this and half of another of his novels, I can say with some confidence that his characters all have one trait and act accordingly. 

The Real Life of Sebastian Knight by Vladimir Nabokov — 5/10— An interesting concept that I don't think quite hit the mark. 

The Secret History by Donna Tartt — 9/10 — I don't think a day has gone by since I read this that I haven't thought about it at least a little bit.

Daughters of the Winter Queen by Nancy Goldstone — 8/10 — This book reignited an obsession but I'm afraid that my family favourite remains Prince Rupert.

The King Must Die by Mary Renault — 6/10 — Not her best work, it must be said. 

Assassin's Apprentice by Robin Hobb — 7/10 — I am desperate for a Verity spin-off novel. I would happily read a book about this man tying his shoelaces in the morning.

The Swan King: Ludwig II of Bavaria by Christopher Mcintosh — 5/10 — Frankly, there wasn't all that much information about Ludwig in this book.

Letters from Russia by Adolphe de Custine — 7/10 — I just learnt that Custine is the guy spouting scathing critiques of all the courtiers in Russian Ark which I feel is a legacy he would be proud of. 

Royal Assassin by Robin Hobb — 7/10 — There was simply not enough Verity content in this book. I expect better in future.

The Russian Court at Sea by Frances Welch — 6/10 — Some of Welch's wording...made me a tad uncomfortable. Let us not discuss queer historical figures as though they're quaint and amusing curiosities please.

If We Were Villains by M.L. Rio — 8/10 — I have an awful lot to say concerning the ending so if you are planning to read this book, skip ahead. Ahem: The idea of Oliver getting out of prison only to learn that James killed himself due to guilt is a great one, but to turn around and then say 'oh he was just pretending actually' makes the whole thing ring really hollow. Like, what was the in-universe point? Even in a writing sense I cannot understand it—the only reason I can think of would be for the Romeo and Juliet symbolism but there isn't any because Oliver doesn't then proceed to kill himself. If it was because Rio wanted to avoid the 'kill your gays' trope then she could've ended on a slightly grim but ultimately very touching reunion which would have left a much better taste in my mouth.

The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt — 10/10 — What a masterpiece. Certainly the best thing I've ever read and quite probably one of the best novels ever written. Beyond deserving of the Pulitzer.

If This Gets Out by Sophie Gonzales and Cale Dietrich — 3/10 — Everything I disliked about Heartstopper turned up to max. Felt like barely passable fanfiction of another story.

The World of Christopher Marlowe by David Riggs — 9/10 — Informative and wonderfully written.

Stats:

Out of 29 books read, 20 fell into the green and purple categories giving me the somewhat unfortunate score of 69%. 

FILMS

Effie Gray — 3/10 — In a word: dull.

The Handmaiden — 9/10 — Some performances were less than stellar but otherwise brilliant.

Much Ado About Nothing (1993) — 6/10 — Everyone in this film is astoundingly pretty. That was my main takeaway.

Giant Little Ones — 7/10 — Really quite sad.

Juno — 1/10 — The cast was fantastic, unfortunately they were given nothing redeemable to work with.

Firebird — 10/10 — My love for this film goes beyond words. If for some god-forsaken reason you don't want to watch the whole thing, you at least have to watch the wedding sequence—a masterclass in filmmaking.

Downton Abbey: A New Era — 5/10 —I wish Julian Fellowes wasn't so insistent on having his characters be either married or in a relationship at all times.

Containment — 3/10 — Didn't really get it.

Gosford Park — 2/10 — On paper I like this film, in practice it didn't click with me.

Crimson Tide — 7/10 — Genuinely amazed by how much I enjoyed this. I typed up a huge paragraph about how good the scene where Ramsey's lurching up the stairs to the control room is but for once I'm going to spare you.

Ammonite — 2/10 — Another dull one. 

Operation Hyacinth — 8/10 — Big fan. Simple as that.

Benediction — 7/10 — Visuals? Sublime. Acting? Exquisite. Writing? Sure. Editing? Argh.

OSS 117: Cairo, Nest of Spies — 8/10 — Police Squad on steroids. Best gag is how softly Moeller says "oh scheisse" as he repeatedly tries to pull the flag away only for the damage to keep getting worse and worse. 

The Scapegoat (2012) — 7/10 — Some aspects were great and others highly questionable. I don't know how the source material deals with it but I didn't get the impression that Sturridge is aware of how creepy the ending is when you think about the implications.

Persuasion (2022) — 1/10 — We all know.

War and Peace (1956) — 6/10 — At this point, I'm beginning to think that my man Hippolyte Kuragin doesn't appear in any adaptations. I'm also a particularly big fan of the scene where Petya gets on his horse, it cuts to Natasha, and then cuts to what is very obviously a grown man galloping away. 

Beverly Hills Cop — 5/10 — You could so easily do a gay reading of this. Like, you'd barely even need to invoke death of the author.

Look Both Ways — 5/10 — Cool concept, mostly entertaining.

Austenland — 6/10 — I didn't really care for the first two-thirds but the last third unironically blew me away.

OSS 117: Lost in Rio — 7/10 — I'm sure you can guess how pleased I am about Hubert's character arc but the film as a whole felt a little tired.

Atonement — 3/10 — Kind of just wanted to be watching something else.

The Half of It — 7/10 — Another that I didn't expect to like as much as I did. Some not half-bad social commentary either. 

Thoroughbreds — 9/10 — Man, what a loss Anton Yelchin was. If the film was this good then I cannot imagine the experience that would've been watching this play out in a theatre. 

Brokeback Mountain — 8/10 — A lot of stuff I liked, some stuff that feels a bit out of date. Someone please tell me that the hat symbolism is, like, film 101 and not just me reading into everything again.

Your Name Engraved Herein — 4/10 — I think it might've been down to a bad translation but I could not follow this film at all. The parts I could understand were lovely, though.

The Goldfinch — 8/10 — Aneurin Barnard as adult Boris was an inspired decision and an absolute treat to watch. My critical (slightly spoilery) notes, however, are thus: 1. Amsterdam was way too condensed, the film is already like two and a half hours long they could've stuck another ten-fifteen minutes on there. 2. I'm a little miffed about how they almost completely ditched Boris/Theo—maybe the young actors were too young to show one of those scenes (also that's another point, why don't they get any older during Vegas?), but I think the fact that teenage Theo self-admittedly loved Boris is an important factor in why he's willing to trust him so much as an adult despite his betrayal. 3. In the book when the painting is stolen again and Boris gets shot, it's Boris and not Theo who is nearly hysterical about the painting while Theo's just desperate to make sure Boris is okay. Film-Theo barely glances at Boris and apparently just...leaves him bleeding out in the car park? If I were film-Boris I wouldn't have bothered coming back.

My Policeman — 5/10 — Considerably less than the sum of its parts.

Stats

Out of 28 films watched, 16 fell into the green and purple categories giving me an overall score of 57%.

TV SERIES

Troy: Fall of a City — 7/10 — I'm so pleased that this wasn't yet another aggressively masculine and heterosexual Trojan War retelling. I am not so pleased about the bizarre way they decided to handle Achilles, Patroclus, and Briseis. Iliad-Briseis is a slave. Iliad-Achilles is a rapist. It's fine. David, it's fine. Nobody was going to call you a misogynist.

All of Us are Dead — 9/10 — Pointed criticism of the Korean government disguised as a fun zombie show. Especially poignant if you read up about Sewol before watching. 

Someone Has to Die — 6/10 — 144 minutes of mediocre drama followed by 8 minutes of the most spectacular television that Netflix has ever or will ever produce.

What We Do In the Shadows — 7/10 — Pansexual vampires, what's not to love?

Gentleman Jack — 3/10 — I do not care about mines or finance; I cannot stress this enough. Had a very pro-capitalism and pro-industrialism take which I understand the reasoning behind but dislike nonetheless.

A Very English Scandal — 9/10 — Watched this with my father who kept saying "I remember that" after every scene, but otherwise very enjoyable. I wish the government had kept sending out NICs because I can never find my number when I need it.

This is Going to Hurt — 8/10 — Yeah, it did. 

Good Omens — 5/10 — Twee in that very specific, late 90s/early 2000s British media way.

Bridgerton (Season 2) — 4/10 — Better than the first but that was a very low bar to clear. My personal theory is that they're pushing back the Benedict season because they can't decide whether they want to make him bi or not. 

The Gilded Age — 4/10 — It's just...he's just doing Downton Abbey again. This is the script for Downton Abbey except the token gay man is rich this time. 

Our Flag Means Death — 10/10 — I am a fundamentally different person for having watched this show. 

Heartstopper — 4/10 — I see the appeal, but it's much too sweet for me. Felt like I was shovelling spoonfuls of sugar into my mouth the whole time.

Derry Girls (Season 3) — 7/10 — Liked most of it, but the ending felt very mawkish. 

First Kill — 5/10 — I need you to know how ready I was to love this. Lesbian vampires? Written by V.E Schwab? It just...the CGI sucked and you can absolutely tell that Schwab has never written for a visual medium before because of the sheer amount of voiceover that she seems to consider necessary at all times. It was actually distracting. 

The Sandman — 9/10 — Loved it on the whole, but there were a few misplaced comedic moments that really messed with the tone. 

Kingdom (Season 1) (2019) — 5/10 — Fine, just not really for me.

Plebs (Season 6) — 6/10 — I adore Plebs but it should've wrapped up a season or two before this. 

Ghosts (Season 4) — 5/10 — This one wasn't very funny to me but I can't pinpoint why.

Rings of Power — 5/10 — They uh...they certainly made some choices, didn't they?

House of the Dragon — 10/10 — This was so interesting in a character-writing sense. In their desperation to make the Blacks the unequivocal good guys, the writers made them all really dull except for maybe Daemon and Corlys. Even though a lot of the Greens are 'bad' people, probably because of that, they're just so much more compelling.

Young Royals (Season 2) — 7/10 — Not quite as good as the first but the cliffhanger made me very excited for a potential season 3. 

Stats

Out of 21 TV series watched, 17 fell into the green and purple categories giving me an overall score of 81%

All of this gives me a total total score of 53/78 or 68%. Did I do what I set out to do? Obviously not. But in my search for queer media to beef up my scores, I found some hidden gems that I probably wouldn't have glanced at otherwise. Maybe this extraordinarily long list has given you a few ideas too.

If you have any thoughts or would like to kick up an argument, feel free to send me a message detailing everything I got wrong. Otherwise I thank you dearly for reading, and wish that your upcoming holiday season be merry and gay.