On Saturday morning, M. Diamandi (the Rumanian Minister) telephoned that he wanted to see me. I went to him at 3p.m. I am sorry for him,for he is a gentleman, honest and a patriot, and he feels his position acutely, for he was largely instrumental in bringing his country into the war, that has proved so disastrous for it, while its intervention has so far brought nothing but inconvenience to the Entente. He talked for one and a half hours. First he pointed out
how Rumania had been left to her fate, forty-two enemy divisions being at one time concentrated against her, how Serail’s promised offensive from Salonika had been merely a demonstration, the lack of discipline among the Russian troops in Rumania, the thefts and the rape. He said that the Russians had promised 200,000 sets of uniform, and that these had been despatched from Moscow in September, but only 20,000 had so far reached Rumania, the rest having been pilfered en route or simply unloaded by the wayside into the snow. I stated a little of the Russian side of the question, and he allowed that there had been mistakes on both sides.
Then he touched on the political problem, remarking on our declaration that Constantinople should be handed over to Russia, and the effect in neutral countries of the Russian retreat beyond the Danube further and further away from our acknowledged objective.
He said that in Rumania there is only enough food to last till April. The Russians have been living on the country. The harvest will not be available till August.
It had been a fatal mistake to abandon the lowrer Danube a greater disaster even than the evacuation of Bucharest. The reconquest of this waterway was the only remedy.
I said it was too late, as the river would soon be in flood, and in any case the Russian troops, being without boots, were not in a condition to undertake an operation of such magnitude
Petrograd is short of bread and wood, and the public is suffering want.
At a bakery on the Liteïny this morning I was struck by the sinister expression on the faces of the poor folk who were lined up in a queue, most of whom had spent the whole night there. See more
At two I set off to the Alexandrov Palace for the reception. His Majesty departs tomorrow. I was preparing to accompany him, but the Empress told me this would not be necessary and brought him to me herself to say goodbye. He was very amiable and kind. It seemed to me that his Majesty has lost weight and is looking older.
This wretched feeling I have comes first and foremost from the apathy I’ve fallen into. I want to finally get around to living, not just existing. I want to do something worthwhile…. Writing is difficult, because everyone around me is screaming in my ear, 20 people are hammering in nails, playing chess, speaking over the telephone, chopping wood, playing on the mandolin – and all at the same time!
There was such glitter and such splendour, but everything seemed false and laboured. Aliki was quite worn out and almost fainted during the ball. As I looked at all the festive illuminations, and attended one ball after another I had the strange feeling that, although we were celebrating in the same way as we had for centuries, some new and terrible circumstances were appearing around us, due to forces beyond our control.
Alexander Pushkin, the father of Russian literature is of noble blood. Leo Tolstoy is the son of the old aristocratic family. Turgenev, a landowner. Dostoevsky, a bureaucrat’s son. But all of them are nobles nonetheless. For literature, art, and all kinds of creative works in the Russian empire in the 19th century empire have belonged to the nobility. See more
If someone wants to jump into a pit, you should exert all your efforts to hold him back. If, however, it becomes clear that he is determined to jump, you should push him, in the hope that just maybe your extra efforts will carry him over to the other side.