R.I.P. Alexei Navalny

Today we  learned about the death of Alexei Navalny, who died--undoubtedly an unnatural death--at the age of 47, while imprisoned in the Russian gulag. I mourn him as an American Russian literary patriot. It's as if Anna Karenina came back to life, only to put her neck down on the tracks of the Long Island Railroad during rush hour after listening to the news--with an emphasis on the dreadful news from Russia. The bloody mess on the tracks leaves us with an imitation Stalin who has killed  a real hero. Yes, another tear trickles down the cheek of Mother Russia, beset as she is with the attempts of Tucker Carlson to  suckle at her breast. (Poor Mother Russia! One breast free only because Trump is trying to grab her by the p.)

Was Navalny murdered in prison? Judging from Putin's well-deserved reputation of brutality and the fact that Navalny had  previously been poisoned by him, it is likely. But we may never know for sure. Putin's denial of involvement is what we expect from such a brutal dictator, who cannot tolerate opposition--and Navalny was his chief opponent in Russia. Yet even if we never know the cause of the Russian hero's death, it is clear that Putin at the very least significantly contributed to it.  Putin unjustly imprisoned him, and an Arctic prison is light-years away from a family picnic.  The fact that he was photographed the day before indicates the possibility both of poisoning and of a heart attack. In either case, Putin should be put on the death certificate as cause of death. One thinks of Dostoevsky before a firing squad, that unbenownst to him, shot blanks by order of the secret police. Except here the brutality of the secret policeman is not in question.

It's as if all the greats of Russian culture are pointing toward that neo-Stalinist monster while chanting, "j'accuse."  As in the past, Russian people  don't seem to be listening.

Yesterday, I listened to a performance of Tchaikowsky's great Sixth Symphony.  The famous, deservedly very famous melody from the  first movement, repeated later on, for me was the pefect musical expression for the contemporary Russian mess. Tchaikowsky died soon after he composed it; society was crushing him. When will there be a silver lining to the dark storm cloud that is Putin? Not any time soon, I'm afraid.

But it will come. Music expresses all emotions, so let me end with positive notes. Putin's barbarity will not defeat Mother Russia forever. (In my lifetime? Alas...)

But that day of liberation will come. The day when Putinism will be gone forever, is beautifully expressed by a chorus from Mozart's opera,  Idomeneo. "The sea is calm. Let's proceed; everything is reassuring.  We will have a happy future. Hush, hush, let's get going."

This music reveals what human beings are  capable of. Mother Russia, please wake up! Now!

(If you can't play this video, type in "Placido e il mar" on YouTube and please listen to it there.)