Trafika Europe 13 - Russian Ballet

Vyacheslav Kupriyanov

THE MIRACLE OF THE FLAMES Approaching a town unfamiliar to him, a certain traveler was met by a fantastic glow on the horizon. “What is this,” he asked his fellow companions on the train, who, it would seem, where more enlightened than he, in that they confered on this glow no particuar attention. “The incinerating of the morning papers,” they replied to him. In this town, a popular belief prevailed that the truth does not perish in the flames, so they will only read that which is left after the burning. “And is there anything left?” the traveler, a foreigner it must be, uttered in astonishment. “Practially nothing,” they said, “but as they burn, the hieroglyphs produce such a wondrous flame that gazing at them while they are blazing up replaces for the local residents their meditation upon the truth.” After this explanation, our traveler decided not to detrain at this station to purchase the day’s newpapers so as to leave unperturbed, as it were, the sparks necessary for this town’s everyday deliberations upon the eternal truths.

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