Bear Brian James - Sacred darkness: the last days of the gulag

I N EXERGUE (1925)
Moral talk is for the young,
While shrewd and sturdy spirits
Hear differently the rumors of the old,
As Hegel rightly claimed.
But there is other talk mid heaven and earth
Through which the great All enters conscience:
Teaching us that all things pass
And nonetheless all things remain.
As Hegel wrote: In the glow divine,
In the high filter of purest light,
Things mean so little, and so obscurely,
That a sacred darkness seems to reign.
Thought glides upon a whitish tomb
Of insatiable fire and dullened ash.
And there? A different word for talk:
Logos, the sense of that which is.

G ALAKTION T ABIDZE (18921959)

T here were LCD monitors, thick cords, clamp stands, support arms, and a control panel surrounded by people dressed in white, blue, and maroon. And there was light, light everywhere, the light of a hundred thousand lumens.

Sacred light... as if I were on a spaceship, I thought, then lost consciousness. I felt like I was being swiftly carried away, and that made me happy. Everything was light and speed. I was in motion for a long time and then, suddenly, I stopped. As I slowly regained awareness of my body, I heard two women talking. The light went off. Motion was light, and stillness was darkness. Complete blackness descended on me. It was total, absolute blacknessa sacred darkness. Two women were talking in that darkness. They spoke softly in worried tones. They were discussing something, but I couldnt understand what it was. That annoyed me: Why couldnt I understand what they were saying? In sacred light, Hegel said, in the great abyss of sacred light... I could hear womens voices, but I couldnt understand them. In sacred radiance, in the great abyss of sacred radiance... So little is known, just as in sacred darkness...

Finally, something emerged from the sounds, something I could make sense of. That something was a word. In the beginning was the Word... and that word was insurance.

Thats not an empty sound, I thought. I even know what it means. But why dont I understand anything else? Because its not a Georgian wordits in a different language. Its the English word for medical coverage. Those women were speaking in English. But why were they speaking in English? Where was I? I obviously wasnt on a spaceship, but in a more earthly place. A hospital where they speak English. I was here because Id suddenly gotten sickit started on the plane. When we were flying over the ocean, I began shivering. Then, in the Mexican embassy, I passed out, but not before calling the Georgian embassy. What was I doing in the Mexican embassy? Oh, I remember now: Im in Washington. From here, I was supposed to fly to Cancun, Mexico, and then, somewhere else. I ended up at Irenas house on Connecticut Avenue. Irena Lasota is a friend. Youre very sick, she told me, and she made a convincing argument to prove her point: You havent even touched my duck! Those were the last words I remembered. I didnt even try her heavenly duck, and that was clear proof of my illness.

Were worried because he doesnt have insurance. Our hospitals not Johns Hopkins, but you couldnt say its cheap either.

I was right, this is a hospital, I thought.

The unknown womans voice continued:

How will he manage to cover such a huge bill?

My dear doctor, this is no ordinary man. Hes a member of parliament and a former political prisoner who spent time in the Soviet Gulag. Where hes from, everybody knows who he is and thousands of people would be happy to help him. Dont think theres no one to take care of him! said my friend IrenaI would have recognized her voice and her French-accented English anywhere.

Strange, in all of America, theres probably not even a hundred doctors who know what the Gulag is, and among them, theres probably no more than a dozen whod be interested in anything connected with the Gulag. But you managed to run into one of them. My mother was a prisoner in the Gulag, and I was born there.

Where were you born? What prison was your mother in? Irena asked, excited.

In Potma, in the Dubravny prison camp, the woman answered.

Ill pay for everything, I wanted to say, but couldnt.

This cant be just a coincidence. This man was in the Dubravny camp too, in Barashevo.

If my mother were alive...

All three of us were imprisoned there, Irena said. In the whole D.C. area, were probably the only three people who were in the Gulag, and now, all of us are here, in Sibley Hospital.

Not for long, I wanted to add, but couldnt.

Im sorry, whats your name?

Irena. Irena Lasota.

Ms. Lasota, whats your relationship to the patient?

Hes an old friend. He arrived this morning from Georgia.

Ill try talking to him. Hello, said the unknown woman in a white coat.

Hello, Doctor, I tried to answer, but couldnt.

Its possible that he can hear us, but cant answer. Whats his name?

Levan Berdzenishvili. B as in Boris, E as in Elena, R as in Ronald...

Thats a very difficult last name!

You can just call him Mr. B.

Very well, then. Mr. B. it is. Im his attending physician, and my name is Paige, Paige Van Wirt.

Nice to meet you, Ms. Van Wirt.

Ms. Lasota, Mr. B. is facing two serious problems. Theres a skin infection on his left leg, and his kidney function is impaired. The infection has already spread, so well have to use very powerful antibiotics to treat it. Unfortunately, this treatment might further damage his kidneys. I want you to know that the risk is significant. For the first three days, hell have to stay in the intensive care unit. First, we need to manage the infection and then well deal with his kidneys. Does all of that make sense?

He has an infection, and its possible that his kidneys will fail due to the antibiotics. We need to be prepare for the worst, Ms. Paige.

Just Paige or, if you insist, its Ms. Van Wirt, the doctor corrected her in a sad voice.

Okay, Ms. Van Wirt.

I know he has travel insurance, which is not going to help him here, but, regardless of his financial situation, well take care of him for now.

Thank you very much.

You said hes an ex-prisoner of the Gulag. Is that true?

Yes, it is.

Okay, then. Whenever Im on call, Ill ask him about his time there. Talking will be good for him and I dont sleep much at night anyway. In return for those stories, Ill do a good deed for him: I wont charge him for my services. This will save him several thousand dollars. Do you think Mr. B. will agree?

How could he not! Irena exclaimed. If only hed come to right now! Hes a real talker.

Great, said Ms. Van Wirt. Well start in three days.

If you can hear me, the doctor said to me, please concentrate and listen very carefully: We gave you an IV with very strong medication, which is why you cant talk. For the next three days, youll be on the brink between life and death. This will be your war, and youll have to win it. They might call to you and try to take you away. Dont let them! When that time comes, you have to make an effortremember, you cant leave now because you have debts to pay. Think of how much you owe. If you cant think of anything else, think of what you owe meyou have to tell me everything about the Dubravny prison camp and Potma because I was born there. Well leave you alone now. Relax and get some sleep.

Debt, I thought, thats the right word. I cant go anywhere until Ive paid off my debts. Thats true. Thats how it is. I have a debt, a very big debt. And my debt even has a nameArkady Dudkin.

* * *

As with any book, my book had its own special fateit was born by mistake.

According to the elegy by the Ancient Greek poet Solon, a human life consists of seven-year periods: in the first seven years, a child loses his teeth; in the second seven years, he reaches puberty; in the third, a man grows a beard; in the fourth, he blossoms; in the fifth, he starts a family; in the sixth, he commits to his lifes work; in the seventh and eighth, he is perfected; in the ninth, he begins to grow weaker; and in the tenthhis death could not be described as premature.