Watching the strange pictures, I was listening to Holmes, and felt that I’m in for serious and fascinating work. We have never discussed the secret rules of our joint activity. I had no intension to do it now too, because I was always sure that any new case, which my friend investigated, he studied thoroughly by himself. Moreover, I thought that he already knew all the answers for the questions appearing during the investigation, and he needed me only for checking their correctness. But something told me, that this case was special and I should have to do something more important than simply working for a touchstone on which the famous detective is sharpening his mind and craft. As usual, unexpectedly, Holmes interrupted my pondering.

Dear Watson, can you explain me, why was your attention drawn to the word “picnic” in two articles from “The New York Times” of September 13?

I thought that this word, from one side, was irrelevant to the context of the articles written by so sorrowful reasons; and, from the other side, somehow elusively conformed them. I suggest that some ambivalence, incomprehensible to me, conceals in this word. Well, and after you have shown me three Russian “picnics” with such strange titles, I have no more doubts, that three-time mentioning of picnic in “The New York Times” is far from being accidental. But what stands behind all this?

Meanwhile Holmes, attentively listening to me, sorted out some notes, picking them from big leather file, where he kept “picnics”.

Of course, you are right, my dear Watson, the “picnics” in “The New York Times” of September 13 are mentioned three times not by accident. But, to understand their interlinks with Russian “picnics” from “Chas Pick”, I should explain something not only to you, but for the first rate to myself, dealing with what you called “mystics”, when we were discussing strange coincidences connected with 11. Here, – he’s found at last what he needed, – listen, dear Watson, what the most honoured poet and writer in Russia, Alexander Pushkin, says in this connection:

“The human mind, as common people say, is not a prophet, but guesser; it sees the general current of events and can make profound suggestions of it, often proved by time afterwards, but it can’t foresee the chance – which is mighty and immediate tool of Providence”.

Many western people consider Pushkin an expresser of outlook of Russian people, whose occurrence in the world happened to be their answer to pro-western reforms of their first emperor Peter the Great. It seems to me, that Russian philosopher Berdyaev wrote about it. And you, dear Watson, aren’t you acquainted with his works?

No, Holmes, I don’t know any works of Berdyaev, but I’ve heard about tender attitude to Pushkin in Russia, tried to read something of him, but, unfortunately, not in the original.

Holmes was obviously waiting for continuing Pushkin theme and so I wasn’t surprised when he asked what exactly I read among Pushkin’s works.

May be, the novel in verses “Eugene Onegin”, – I was trying with difficulty to remember the impressions this work made on me, and not waiting for Holmes to answer, carried on.

The narration seemed to me then somehow verbose, and sometimes even boring. Yes, it reminded me of sensational in its time James Joyce’s novel “Ulysses”, which some of our critics of past century were calling an encyclopaedia of western life. But may be the point is in translation – it’s written in verses, all the same.

Bravo, Watson! They can’t say you’re not observant. The point is that Pushkin has written one very truthful phrase explaining everything, to my mind: “Translators – are false horses of enlightenment”. And one Russian critic even defined the novel in verses, which you considered to be boring, as “encyclopaedia of Russian life”. Don’t you remember an author of translation, Watson?

Of course, Holmes, I remember his name clearly. My fellow chess-player recommended me to read the best translation made by famous Russian writer and poet Vladimir Nabokov[15], whose parents had emigrated from Russia after Revolution, and who had a great success on the West.

Perfectly, Watson. It was Nabokov who, after he began to write good poems in English, tried to understand why western reader couldn’t understand Pushkin as good, as Russian readers did. He too, as well as you, thought that only translators are to blame, that they are incapable to express in their native languages an elusive spirit of Pushkin’s poetry, and so he decided to prove that he could do it in the language of great Shakespeare. How he was surprised however when at the end of his translating he exclaimed in despair: “Golden cage remained, but the bird has flied away!” The “flied away bird” of Pushkin is the subject that we will try to understand in outlook of Russians. You may be surprised, Watson, why, investigating causes of New York and Washington tragedy, do I pay so much attention to the “sun of Russian poetry” – so Pushkin was called by Dostoevsky, another Russian writer very popular on the West?

Yes, indeed, dear Holmes, at the beginning I was rather puzzled by your interest to Pushkin. Knowing you, I supposed that you have thoroughly studied everything connected with works of honoured Russian poet, and also I know that you do nothing without a particular reason. And so I won’t be surprised very much, if Pushkin will at last turn out to be involved in the events of September 11 somehow.

Yes, Watson, and Pushkin… he is involved too, – Holmes repeated my words thoughtfully. – But now I still can’t explain it to you, Watson. What else have you read of Pushkin?

Oh, probably nothing, – I started to rummage through the corners of my memory of which I could never complain. – But wait! Yes, yes, I’ve read – of course I’ve read, but in certain sense, under duress.

Who could make you reading Pushkin, my dear Watson, I wonder?

Circumstances, Holmes. That’s it – circumstances. You may remember that about ten years ago some Russian theatre with very difficult title, something like “Marinka”, was in London on tour.

Yes, Watson, I remember it – it was the tour of very famous, since pre-Revolutionary times, Russian “Mariinsky Theatre”, and I still regret, that I hadn’t a chance to present on its performances. But, please, go on, my dear friend, I’m really looking forward to know what circumstances could make you reading Pushkin.

It was already after my returning from Afghanistan, when I was striving unsuccessfully for the favour of one lady, great music lover. For attracting her attention to myself, I obtained, with great difficulties, two tickets to the first-night of the opera “The Queen of spades”. Knowing that all parts would be sung in Russian, I decided to get acquainted with Pushkin’s story with the same title. The subject then seemed to me mystical and the end of a hero – too sorrowful. I remember exactly, that he has gone mad in the end, and so, when horrors on the stage heated up to the extreme and my companion was waiting for the tragic outcome, I, desiring to demonstrate my knowledge in the sphere where she felt her total superiority, started to calm her, saying that she hadn’t to worry so much – the hero and heroine (unfortunately, I don’t remember their names) would stay alive. How much I was surprised, when the shot, expected by the house, sounded on the stage! My lady didn’t express astonishment; she just understood that her unsuccessful admirer was ignoramus. And when I tried to explain that I have read the story by Pushkin, she, looking at me regretfully, pointed out to the programme which she used as a fan: libretto of the opera was written by brother of Tchaikovsky, the composer, who perhaps knew better than Pushkin how the hero of “Queen of Spades” was to end his life. And it was the end of my attempts to seek the favour of a lady that I called “the queen of spades” in my mind.