Many books begin with ruminations about one’s earliestmemories.Whoremembered earlier, who started later. Should I look for another beginning? I began walking at eight months. This I don’t remember. But my numerous relatives were thrilled by my early mobility. And their delight was the start of my self awareness. My grandmother died in the summer of 1929. I remember her passing very clearly and distinctly. Our family rented a dacha, a summer house, near Moscow. And Grandmother, already looking waxy and haggard, spent long hours on an incongruous, nickel-plated bed in the large meadow in front of the house. A Chinese doctor was treating her.Hewould come to the house in a theatrically broad brimmed black hat and make mysterious motions over Grandmother. [download]
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