MEMORIES OF ANASTASIA
 When
 I wrote Anastasia ten years ago there was still a lingering doubt about
 whether she had survived the botched execution in which the rest of her
 family were murdered. What was more certain was that the man who 
organised this bloody episode, Yakov Yurovsky, was a couple of cadres 
short of the full committee. He must have been off sick when they did 
Assassination 101 at Secret Police School.
When
 I wrote Anastasia ten years ago there was still a lingering doubt about
 whether she had survived the botched execution in which the rest of her
 family were murdered. What was more certain was that the man who 
organised this bloody episode, Yakov Yurovsky, was a couple of cadres 
short of the full committee. He must have been off sick when they did 
Assassination 101 at Secret Police School.
On
 his orders, the family were herded into a basement and shot with 
revolvers through the doorway by him and his men, the gunpowder from 
their revolvers burning their eyes and creating a fog in the tiny room. 
They had to fire over each other’s shoulders and Yurovsky claimed he 
came out deaf in one ear. 
|  | 
| Yakov Mikhailovich Yurovsky | 
These
 circumstances left open the possibility that someone survived this 
bloody chaos. There were rumours (later proven false) that for days 
afterwards the Bolsheviks searched trains in the Urals looking for a 
young woman fitting Anastasia’s description. 
For
 years the story of the missing princess captured the public 
imagination. Anastasia soon had more impersonators than Elvis Presley. 
The most notable, Anna Anderson, pursued her case in the European courts
 for over thirty years. After her death it transpired that she was not 
only NOT Anastasia, she wasn’t even Russian.
The remains of the Romanov family were finally discovered near Ekaterinburg in 1991. Intriguingly two skeletons were missing, those of a young woman and the boy, Alexei. 
Even
 then, it was impossible to imagine how Anastasia could have escaped, 
even if she survived the gruesome debacle in the basement and was still 
alive when they threw her on the cart with the rest of her family to be 
buried in the forest. And Alexei; just impossible. He was a 
haemophiliac. Any serious wound would have made death inevitable anyway.
But
 it wasn’t the mystery of Anastasia’s fate that motivated me to write 
about her. It was a story I read in the newspaper about a man in 
Liverpool, England who had been found unconscious in the street a year 
before and was still languishing in a public hospital. He had severe 
amnesia. Authorities published his photograph hoping that someone might 
know who he was and come forward and identify him.
I
 subsequently discovered that severe head trauma, when suffered 
simultaneously with severe emotional distress, can bring about a rare 
and long lasting amnesia. (The most famous - and saddening - case is 
that of ‘Benjamin Kyle’ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Benjaman_Kyle) 
I
 imagined that if Anastasia had survived, the shock of seeing her family
 murdered and afterwards being battered with a rifle butt would have 
turned her into another Benjamin Kyle. 
This made me reflect on the nature of identity. 
If we don’t have our memories then who are we? We still live and breathe, yes, but we no longer retain that which makes us ‘who we are’. 
If we don’t have any remembrance, what is left of us? 
For
 the story, I imagined a woman appearing in Shanghai in 1920 suffering 
from traumatic 
amnesia. People take her to be Anastasia - in order to 
fulfill their own agenda. Over time she struggles to become the person 
they want her to be - becoming someone else's idea seems better than 
being no one at all.
|  | 
| Anastasia on Kindle | 
Is
 this what some of us do anyway - spend our lives becoming what others 
want of us? If so, how do we then discover who we really are - so we can
 follow our own course?
The
 question of memory has become more poignant to me over the last year. 
My mother is rapidly losing hers - sometimes she struggles to remember 
the man who was her husband for 52 years. She even takes a while to 
recognize me or my brother now.  
Who
 we are if we are not the memories we have accumulated and the name 
someone gave us is an interesting question. It intrigued me far more 
than whether Anastasia survived or not. She didn’t, by the way: in 2008,
 two more skeletons were discovered, 200 yards from the original grave 
site, and were positively identified as the missing two Romanovs.
|  | 
| From History and Women | 


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Post a Comment
4 Comments