I spent a wonderful Christmas in Moscow three years ago, going to the Bolshoi amongst other things. I have friends in the city, people I know from university. It’s a beautiful, wonderful, magical and tragic place, a mighty heart in the great body of Russia.
Russian history and culture fascinates me; it has for a long time, perhaps more than any other in the world, excepting that of England. I count Dostoevsky along with Dickens as my favourite author. I also love Russian painting, music and folklore.
The recent outrage in Moscow in the metro draws from me a greater affinity and solidarity than ever. I pass no comment on the people responsible for this pointless and murderous gesture; they are beyond all comment.
Because of my name people sometimes ask if I am Russian. Well, today I am. God bless Holy Russia.
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