 |
The Ivan Aufulich Papers
27. Seryosha Naufoalks
Kremlin-watchers who thought they had a handle, so to speak, on the background to clown Lyudya Kruss' horrific death (at the claws of her circus' trained bears) are now questioning their deductions. In a similarity that is clearly intended to be noticed, Seryosha Naufoalks ("Seryosha" is a diminutive for "Sergei") was reportedly electrocuted by the microphone at Triy Zhuravliy (The Three Cranes), the club where he was performing. (That the microphone was cordless makes it all the more remarkable, and has lead some to speculate on whether some of the American electric screwdrivers imported by Pyotr Dar Podnar may have had unusually powerful batteries, and where those particular models may have wound up, and whether that accounts for Pyotr's continued survival in the face of almost universal opprobrium.)
The similarities are so obvious (a comic entertainer killed by an adjunct to the evening's entertainment, in front of a horrified audience) as merely to be noted and set aside for more subtle considerations. Both Lyudya and Seryosha had, of course, spoofed bureaucrats safely past their peak (you* know, or you wouldn't be reading such news) and even official ideology (Seryosha had told the story of Borya Tudet), but that is to be expected of clowns and comics, and is tolerated (and even encouraged, by the most cagey politicians) as a safety valve for frustrations that might otherwise vent in more unsettling ways. A review of their routines for the last several months, by various observers who were in attendance and met to compare recollections, reveals nothing obviously in common, much less likely to elicit unhealthy attention. Both had been occasional luxury-goods customers of Kostya Plenti, before the latter's demise, but so had many others (including many of the obvious suspects). The club is, of course, where much business and politics is conducted, matters that need to be conducted outside the public channels; and the circus is not -- it is where the nomenklatura attend only when they need to be seen associating with the proletariat. Certain powers (you* know) about the Kremlin are of notoriously dour disposition, but that seems hardly a motivation for murder.
The most astute observers realize that such events are significant not in themselves but as messages, and the message can sometimes be deduced by recognizing the intended recipients. Those observers are now searching for common attendees on the nights in question -- a daunting task made possible only by access to records of the KGB (who of course record everything).
It clearly means *something* -- but the meaning is not clear, least of all to poor Seryosha.
©1997 Grant Schampel