
When I first began going to Russia in 2003, its ferocious new capitalist mixed economy had not yet crested. The place seemed to be resting in the grey cloak of its past. I was able to savor the old, Soviet atmospherics, day-dreaming of spies in trench coats with Markov shoulder holsters and wide-brimmed fedoras. Xenophobic control of its borders made Moscow the necessary entry point, though I was doing a piece for a London magazine on the Tri-Centennial of the (in 170...
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