Moscow is still, as it always was, a big village. Only the centre of the town, where the boulevards are, is “European.” There the streets are well paved; the shop, windows are attractive (although the shelves inside are empty and dusty). Electric trams and buses are plentiful. Placards and advertisements (some of them very beautiful) are abundant. Theatre, picture-palace, and music-hall announcements are suspended across the streets like huge banners. There are loudspeakers in every square. The streets are crowded, and in the early summer sunshine far more beautiful and heavily rouged women are to be seen than in winter. Foreign newspapers can be bought at the kiosks, but only such numbers as do not contain any more news than the Soviet press. For example, when the fate of Trotsky and of the Opposition was being decided we were without foreign newspapers for a week.

Strong drink is plentiful. Wine can only be bought in special shops. Vodka can only be obtained in small quantities in the centre of the town – but it is abundant elsewhere. It is possible to get vodka of pre-war quality but “plain vodka” is more usual, although it is a downright poison. The peasants prefer a distillation of their own.

Beyond the Boulevards

Outside the ring of boulevards the city takes on a different aspect. The houses are low, small, and dirty; the streets are ill-paved and rarely swept and cleaned; there is a vast number of beer and tea saloons. The shops are dirty, the wares of poor quality. Even the bread is bad.

All round the Moscow railway stations there are all kinds of rough and disreputable-looking people. The thieves and pickpockets are not too badly clothed. Great care is necessary lest your pockets are picked or your handbag stolen, and it is always as well to look and see who is following you. All kinds of legal and illegal trade goes on near the stations, and you can buy all kinds of stolen and smuggled articles. Vodka can be bought at all hours of the day and night.



Home made spirit ‘Samogon’, a precious commodity in post revolutionary Russia. Its production, although illegal, was in progress until early 1930’s. Photograph: Slava Katamidze Collection/Getty Images

The quarters where the working classes live lie towards the outskirts of the city. Amongst the older houses the newly built, gigantic, barrack-like tenements are conspicuous. On the outskirts and beyond are allotments and bungalows meant for holiday residence but serving largely to house the surplus population of Moscow. These little huts are grouped all along the railways. Some 10,000 workmen and employees live 30-10 versts (20 miles and upwards) from Moscow and travel to town every day. The number of landlords is enormous. Nearly all the former landlords have retained their houses. In addition to these there are the new landlords – partly Communists who have acquired the villas and dwellings over which they were placed in charge, and partly persons who have saved enough to build huts or houses of their own. But most of the houses are in the hands of the administration and of the “housing trusts.” Theoretically they are let to workmen, especially to railwaymen. But the “housing trusts” are brazenly corrupt and let the houses to “their own people” – that is to say, to Communists and their relatives.



Thus, in spite of all laws to the contrary, there are many Communists who have a house in town as well as a villa or bungalow in the country. This privilege is shared by those who have enough money to pay bribes. All these things are done openly. There is no concealment about the sums that are paid. Only those are indignant who have not enough money for bribery.

Soviets and “Cells”

In these so-called “colonies” – that is to say, the agglomerations of huts and houses what the French call lotissements – on the outskirts of the town and along the railways a new kind of life is developing. Each “colony” has its Soviet, in which hygiene, welfare-work, the fire brigade, sewerage, and so on are discussed. In the cluster of colonies where I am living there is a chemist’s shop, an ambulance, and a hospital, so that we are not badly off for medical aid. But the welfare work is, generally speaking, very primitive. There are hardly any sewers, and the streets are littered with dirt and rubbish. In spring when the snow melts and in autumn you literally wade through the slush.

There is a Communist “cell” in every colony which attends to the “cultural needs” of the residents. Its headquarters, characteristically enough, are the local police station. Some of the colonies have “clubs” where films are shown; French films are usually preferred. There is also an occasional lecture on The significance of physical culture (called physkultur”) and kindred subjects. But these lectures are poorly attended. The young people prefer to spend their spare time drinking or playing cards. Never was so much vodka consumed in Russia as now.

A swing at the Trinity-Sergievoj laurels, Moscow region, 1939. Photograph: FotoSoyuz/Getty Images

The Communist Bourgeoisie

The Communists drink more than anyone else – not because they are worse than the others, but because they have more money to spend. As a rule it is not easy to distinguish a Communist from an ordinary workman. Yet they do differ. The Communists are more adaptable, supple, and better able to look after their own interests. “They get everything,” “He’ll get a house now that he’s become a Communist” – such remarks are continually being made by the working people.

The word 'bourgeois' is now widely used to denote a Communist - many are almost American in their business instincts and their assiduity

The word “bourgeois” is now widely used to denote a Communist. All who join the Communist party do so for the sake of some material advantage or to be one of a privileged set. There is no doubt that the Communist party is the nucleus of the future bourgeoisie. Many of the Communists are almost American in their business instincts and their assiduity. Altogether, the Communists in Russia are a better-situated class. Nevertheless there is not much indignation felt against them; a little envy, perhaps, a little contempt. “He will not go under – he’s a Communist,” is what the simple working folk will often say.



The officials of the GPU are also a privileged set. There are many in our colony. Most of them own houses and allotments and let them out to tenants. They are not feared or hated as the Tsarist policemen used to be feared and hated. Generally speaking, they are regarded just like any other Communists by Russian working folk – that is to say, without much indignation but with a certain amount of contempt.