But back then we hid, we didn’t even wear our medals. Men wore them, but not women

When I put on a dress for the first time, I flooded myself with tears. I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror. We had spent four years in trousers. There was no one I could tell that I had been wounded, that I had a concussion. Try telling it, and who will give you a job then, who will marry you? We were silent as fish. We never acknowledged to anybody that we had been at the front. We just kept in touch among ourselves, wrote letters. It was later that they began to honor us, thirty years later … to invite us to meetings … But back then we hid, we didn’t even wear our medals. Men wore them, but not women. Men were victors, heroes, wooers, the war was theirs, but we were looked at with quite different eyes. Quite different … I’ll tell you, they robbed us of the victory.

S. Alexievich, tr. R. Pevear and L. Volkhonsky, The unwomanly face of war (1985), Kindle loc 2,123

I liked Western novels better because of the bitches in them

When I was left home alone, I would put on my mother’s dress and heels and sit on the couch reading Anna Karenina. Society balls, servants, aiguillettes...romantic trysts...I liked everything up to the part when Anna throws herself under the train: What did she do that for? She was beautiful and rich...for love? Not even Tolstoy could convince me...I liked Western novels better because of the bitches in them, the beautiful bitches that men would shoot themselves over and suffer for. Fall at their feet. The last time I cried over unrequited love was when I was seventeen—I spent the whole night in the bathroom with the tap running. My mother consoled me with poems by Pasternak

S. Alexievich, tr. B. Shayevich, Second-hand time (2013), 499

There were no cats in the colony, they couldn’t survive in there because there were no leftovers for them to eat, we would pick up every last crumb

I remember the aroma of a slice of melon that my mother had brought me. It was the size of a button, wrapped in a rag. And how one time, the boys called me over to play with a cat, but I didn’t know what a cat was. The cat had come from the outside, there were no cats in the colony, they couldn’t survive in there because there were no leftovers for them to eat, we would pick up every last crumb. We were always looking under our feet for something to eat. We ate grasses, roots, licked pebbles. We really wanted to give the cat some sort of treat, but we didn’t have anything, so we’d feed it our spit after dinner—and it would eat it! It would!

S. Alexievich, tr. B. Shayevich, Second-hand time (2013), 379

You can’t judge us according to logic. You accountants! You have to understand! You can only judge us according to the laws of religion

You can’t judge us according to logic. You accountants! You have to understand! You can only judge us according to the laws of religion. Faith! Our faith will make you jealous! What greatness do you have in your life? You have nothing. Just comfort. Anything for a full belly...Those stomachs of yours...Stuff your face and fill your house with tchotchkes. But I...my generation...We built everything you have. The factories, the dams, the electric power stations. What have you ever built? And we were the ones who defeated Hitler.

S. Alexievich, tr. B. Shayevich, Second-hand time (2013), 279-80

I would rather live in a weak country where there’s yogurt and good beer

Today it’s the market. So all right, we’ll eat our fill, and then what? When I go into my grandchildren’s room, everything in there is foreign: the shirts, the jeans, the books, the music — even their toothbrushes are imported. Their shelves are lined with empty cans of Coke and Pepsi. Savages! They go to the supermarkets like they’re museums. They think it’s cool, celebrating their birthday at McDonald’s! “Grandpa, we went to Pizza Hut!” Mecca! They ask me, “Did you really believe in communism? How about aliens?” I dreamt of war on the palaces, peace to the cottages—they want to become millionaires. Their friends come over and I overhear them saying things like: “I would rather live in a weak country where there’s yogurt and good beer.”

S. Alexievich, tr. B. Shayevich, Second-hand time (2013), 268

Two coats are enough to last a lifetime, but you can’t live without Pushkin or the complete works of Gorky

My mother wasn’t alone, all of her friends were like this, too—the first generation of Soviet intelligentsia who had grown up on Chernyshevsky, Dobrolyubov, Nekrasov...on Marxism...Could you imagine my mother sitting down and embroidering something or going out of her way to decorate our house with porcelain vases or little elephant figurines...Never! That would be a pointless waste of time. Petit bourgeois nonsense! The most important thing is spiritual labor...Books...You can wear the same suit for twenty years, two coats are enough to last a lifetime, but you can’t live without Pushkin or the complete works of Gorky.

S. Alexievich, tr. B. Shayevich, Second-hand time (2013), 224

Russians don’t understand freedom, they need the Cossack and the whip

I asked everyone I met what “freedom” meant. Fathers and children had very different answers. Those who were born in the USSR and those born after its collapse do not share a common experience—it’s like they’re from different planets.

For the fathers, freedom is the absence of fear; the three days in August when we defeated the putsch. A man with his choice of a hundred kinds of salami is freer than one who only has ten to choose from. Freedom is never being flogged, although no generation of Russians has yet avoided a flogging. Russians don’t understand freedom, they need the Cossack and the whip.

S. Alexievich, tr. B. Shayevich, Second-hand time (2013), 30-31

At the age of five I understood that it was bad for us that mama was young and beautiful. It was dangerous.

I knew my mama was young and beautiful. Other children's mamas were older, but at the age of five I understood that it was bad for us that mama was young and beautiful. It was dangerous. I figured it out at the age of five ... I even understood that it was good that I was little. How could a child understand that? Nobody explained anything to me ...

S. Alexievich, tr. R. Pevear and L. Volkhonsky, Last Witnesses [Liuda Andreeva] (1985), 182

During the war I hadn't seen a single child's thing. I forgot they existed.

In the ruins of q German village I saw a child's bicycle lying about. I was happy. I got on it and rode. It rode so well! During the war I hadn't seen a single child's thing. I forgot they existed. Children's toys ...

S. Alexievich, tr. R. Pevear and L. Volkhonsky, Last Witnesses [Volodia Chistokletov] (1985), 42

Good, we thought later, it's lucky they were so skinny, we didn't have to eat them

We had a horse, Maika ... she was old and very gentle, and we used her to carry water. The next day this Maika was killed. We were given water with a small piece of Maika in it ... But they concealed it from us for a long time. We wouldn't have been able to eat her ... Not for anything! She was the only horse in our orphanage. We also had two hungry cats. Skeletons! Good, we thought later, it's lucky they were so skinny, we didn't have to eat them. There was nothing there to eat.

S. Alexievich, tr. R. Pevear and L. Volkhonsky, Last Witnesses [Zina Kosiak] (1985), 15