Soviet Square

Lukiškės Square, Vilnius, Lithuanian Soviet Socialist Republic, 1975. See Photo 17 here.

The red star resurfaces on Red Square . . .

. . . and children, wearing Soviet-era uniforms and carrying arms, participate in the festivities.

Meanwhile, Vladimir Putin defends the 1939 Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, and Lithuania's Minister of Foreign Affairs Linas Linkevičius pens a response.

ADDED: Full video of the parade here; the hammer and sickle are first visible at 4:53. Here's footage from the November 1, 1941 parade.

"We shouldn’t forget that causing panic is one of the key elements of information war[.]"

"The Lithuanian State Security Department has issued a booklet with tips on how to recognise a spy and avoid supplying information to foreign agents. It said it did so after an increasing number of calls from people and intensified spy activities."

ADDED: The view from Estonia.

"Latvia Casts Wary Eye on Russia"

"A chief concern of the government—which is facing parliamentary elections in October—is the rise of what some officials call 'provocateurs,' people in the country believed to be spreading antigovernment sentiment on behalf of the Kremlin."

(See also here.)

Depict the Mayor "as the star he really is."

"Emails show Emanuel aides, producers coordinated CNN 'Chicagoland' scenes."

What should a former republic do with those "Soviet Worker" statues?

Vilnius, Lithuania considers the fate of the relics.

I also thought of Grutas Park as I started reading the article.

"[N]ot only militiamen were patrolling, 'but also school teachers are being used to diffuse anti-Soviet feeling before it flows into the streets'."

Soviet damage control.

They still try to rewrite history.

Russia's ambassador makes some controversial observations on the eve of the ninety-fifth anniversary of Lithuanian independence.

Click on the "Deportation," "Displaced Persons," or "Siberia" tags below.

Inauguration Day question: When is it cool to refer to the First Lady as "regal?"

When you're British.

"You sense this extraordinary ability, I think, Michelle Obama has to be both regal and normal at the same time. And that's such a skill."

Attention Toronto Readers

(I know there are at least four of you.)

The Lithuanian film, Fireheart: The Legend of Tadas Blinda opens in Toronto on Friday, November 23, 2012, as part of the European Union Filmfest.

"Braveheart," move over.

"Tadas Blinda" also was a television series that ran in the Lithuanian Soviet Socialist Republic. The show highlighted the struggle of the peasants against the aristocracy. You can get a taste of it—you don’t need to understand Lithuanian to digest its flavor—here:

Thanks to my Toronto Cousin for forwarding the information about the movie to us.

Awareness

It's time for my annual reminder. September is National Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month. I'm not asking you to donate money to a charity. I'm not asking you to wear a teal bracelet or a teal t-shirt that reads, "It's all about the ovae." I'm not asking you to buy a ribbon of any kind or to lobby legislators to light up the State Capitol with teal lights.

I'm asking you to learn the subtle symptoms so that you can help yourself or a loved one. Know the warning signs before you or a woman you love reaches Stage IIIC or Stage IV.

Think about the accomplished women—besides my paternal Grandmother, Tatjana—who have died from this disease.

And because I like to play with my readers, I give you this, to prove that "National" Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month is now official.

Language Lessons

My paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, tried to teach me her native Russian language. It was a struggle. I learned only a few phrases (blue-tongued insults and foodie terms), and I now regret that Russian is not among the languages I understand fluidly.

Perhaps my disinterest in the Russian lessons stemmed from the books Tatjana used to teach me:

The only thing familiar about this book cover is the set of bows in the girl's hair.

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The boys wear the mandatory red neckkerchiefs.

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Tatjana thought my understanding would improve if she penciled in the meaning of the words above them in Lithuanian.

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The last pages of the book remind children about what's really important. Look! The right-hand page is torn out. Was it a picture of Stalin that someone ripped up?
  

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A later edition in the same series is not more inspiring.

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It, too, has lessons for the little comrades.

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Here's the 1959 French language book with which Tatjana had much more success.

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That's one lurky wolf!

Foreign Press

Although I wasn't crazy about reading when I was a child, I sometimes didn't mind it when people read *to* me. I definitely enjoyed receiving beautiful books. 

Relatives living in the Lithuanian Soviet Socialist Republic occasionally mailed lovely books printed in the Soviet Union. These books were made for foreign distribution—locals could buy them only to send overseas. The books also were products of the Cold War. Whether written in Lithuanian or English, the parables exported a message the Soviets wanted American children to hear.

These are some of my favorites printed by the "Government Foreign Distribution Printing House."

Pushkin's nineteenth-century fairy tale warns about the dangers of materialism.

The back of the book features the logo of the golden fish. 

Let's take a closer look, a look past that fish. 

 You see, little child? The fisherman's wife started to act like a Tsaritsa!

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It's Cinderella!!

The artwork on the cover and first page point to a happy ending.

But the story opens with the image of the decadent aristocracy. Not only were they repugnant; they all behaved the same way.

The Silver Coin.

 
It looks biblical!

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"The titular little horse helps Ivan, a peasant’s son, carry out the many unreasonable demands of the tsar … [During the tsarist era,] [c]ensors banned the complete story for over 20 years in the mid-19th century because it made the Tsar appear foolish. Until 1856, the tale was published with dots representing omitted verses and songs in many sections. The tale is meant to be a satire on the absurdities of Russian feudal and bureaucratic life at the time."

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It's the traditional favorite, Jūratė ir Kastytis.

Cost: three rubles.