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Accetto Chudi

March 3rd 2024

by Matteo F.M. Sommaruga



I entered the hall of the Hotel as if I were either a celebrity waiting for his fans or as a young and enthusiastic bachelor looking for his future wife. The concept of blind date did not exist at the time of the Revolution and the mindset of the Soviet leaders was far beyond the most conservative attitude of the middle class. Although gossip, flirts and even a good level of debauchery survived among the new socialist aristocracy. Putin looks to have preferred to maintain our old approach and he has closed the door to the American way of dating and marriage. That simplifies the lives of many individuals, unless grown up in the messy United States. I am missing the frugal simplicity of the Finnish countryside and I am noticing that a certain taste for luxury has developed here as well. Perhaps it is only my impression, because everytime I tried to approach some of the locals, I only received polite and discrete answers. Nobody even asked me whether I was impersonating a political leader of the past. Even when I entered the hotel, the porter opened the door without even staring at my face. In Zurich it happened much more frequently, sometimes there was also some man, usually aged above forty, who wanted to take a picture with me. The youngest generation does not seem to be informed at all about the 1917, even those who so enthusiastically block the streets and make a big fuss for the most abstract and illogical ideas. I crossed the door one hour ago, it should be now the exact time for my first encounter with the dealer.



The art dealer


I ordered a cup of tea, a good chai from Russia, or china. Perhaps imported before the embargo, or not even considered as an item to be banned from international trade. Meanwhile I notice a slim and tall boy coming into my direction. His head, well rounded, crowned by a few red hair, impresses me. It reminds one of those wartime posters calling the youth to the extreme sacrifice for the British King. He is obviously the fruit of the most standard genetic selection conducted for generations on the British Islands. I like how he smiles, he is a sort of a little Lord welcoming me into his own castle. Although the mansion should belong to some old pervert, showing off so enthusiastically the portraits of leather covered American bikers, with a good enhancement of their muscles and voluptuous lips. I hope he does not follow the moral philosophy of the house. That would make me much more uncomfortable than sustaining the inquisition of a stupid czarist policeman. He however does not look to belong to the most modern parties, his corduroy trousers with his tartan waistcoat makes him appear as a staunch reactionary. It is now the chance and the time to shake our hands. “Comrade Lenin, I have travelled so far only with the intention to meet you. I am almost broken and have no actual plans in mind, but I am sure that you shall inspire me”. From the mouth of a conservative, I have never heard such devotion, not even at the time of the Revolution. I choose to believe that he is telling the truth. A policeman is not able to pronounce such an effective speech. 



The consultant


“Many revolutionaries, the most successful ones, approached the action when they had no alternative. It is good to be broken, for those of our kind”, I said solemnly, looking into his eyes. He should have thought that I was adopting some of Hitler’s tricks, but agitators share a lot of their expertise. They just make it appear to be original by exploiting the mimic of their face. The appearance of political leaders, especially dictators, is so individual that none of them looks like others. None of them even overtly reuse the words and the slogans of others. Mussolini actually reused some of the catchphrases of the French Revolution, but he was clever enough to hide his sources and only a few historians are aware of his tricks. It is now the time to test my fellow student. He did not react to my words, but sat down silently. It is the Finnish school of conversation. I did not expect us to adapt to the local culture so quickly. In Finland even silences have got a meaning. My guest, or host, since it is not already clear who will pay for the tea, is turning his head around. “Yes, I have also got the impression to be observed. Do not agitate. You’ll get used to that once in hiding”, I try to make him feel more comfortable. Yet, I feel spied on. A young lady, waiting unobserved in a corner of the hall, suddenly stands up and comes nearer. “She should be a professional . No civilian can disguise herself so effectively”, I thought. “You should be Comrade Lenin, and you the art dealer. Please let me introduce myself. I am a former business consultant”, she says coldly, but politely. Perhaps she is only hiding a more friendly attitude.


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In Frankfurt like Heidi, in Zuerich like Lenin

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