Christopher T. George
Robert Alexander,
The Kitchen Boy: A Novel of the Last
Tsar,
Viking, ISBN 0-670-03178-X, 229 pages, 2003, $23.95.
The oft-told story of the last days of the Tsarist Royal family is here
retold in entertaining and taut fashion by an American novelist with an
intimate knowledge of Russian history and manners. Robert Alexander is
the pen name of businessman Robert Zimmerman, who has studied and worked
in Russia for some thirty years, most recently as a partner in a company
that operates Barabu, a chain of espresso-wine bars with locations in St
Petersburg. He employs the conceit of telling the story from the vantage
point of little Leonka, the kitchen boy in the infamous Ipatiev House,
known as “The House of Special Purpose,” in Yekaterinburg.
It was in the cellar of the notorious Siberian mansion that the
Romanovs were brutally shot by Bolsheviks on the night of July 16, 1917
as a White Russian army approached with the intent of freeing them.
Alexander describes in intimate fashion – or as intimate as a servant
could – the demeaning final days of Tsar Nikolai and his consort
Aleksandra, their four daughters and son Aleksei – the hemophiliac son
and heir of Russia’s last Romanov emperor.
As a boy of about the same age as the young prince, Leonka wheels
Aleksei round the mansion in his invalid chair in a game of “troika” and
has knowledge of the little hoard of childish mementoes that the boy
keeps hidden by his bed. He also knows about the fortune of precious
jewels that the Empress and the Grand Duchesses sew into their garments
under the subterfuge of “arranging medicines.” It was this literal armor
of fabulous jewels that made the daughters particularly hard to kill
when the Reds firing squad tried to exterminate the family after they
had been lured down to the cellar on the pretense that a photographic
portrait was to be taken.
In the days leading up to the fateful night, Alexander suspensefully
describes the family’s involvement in a supposed plot by White officers
to free them. I say “supposed” because it appears that the “plot” was a
Red trick to lure the family into complicity in the escape attempt and
provide an excuse for their murder. The Tsar requests Leonka’s help in
smuggling notes in his pants to a local convent to send on to the
officers. It is the boy also who, although banished from the house on
the night of slaughter, follows on foot the slow-moving lorry loaded
with the butchered bodies of the Royals, their physician, Dr Botkin, and
a female servant. In following the bloody wagon, he sees two bodies fall
off the back of the truck onto the muddy track through the Siberian
forest.
The narrative thus explains the fact that when the remains of the
Russian Royal family were recovered, two bodies were missing – the
bodies of heir Aleksei and one of the Grand Duchesses, probably the
second youngest, Maria (or perhaps the youngest daughter, Anastasia, who
“survived” the massacre if one believes the story of the pretender Anna
Anderson, portrayed by Ingrid Bergman in the 1956 film Anastasia). The
fascinating story of the investigation into the remains of the Romanovs
is well covered in Robert K. Massie’s The Romanovs: The Final Chapter
(Random House, 1995). Massie of course earlier wrote Nicholas and
Alexandra (Atheneum, 1967) made into a 1971 feature film of the same
name with Michael Jayston as Tsar Nicholas II and Janet Suzman as his
beloved “Alix.”
Everything that author Alexander writes in The Kitchen Boy is
consistent with the portrayal of the Royal family in Massie’s books,
except for his speculative narrative about the kitchen boy’s role in the
supposed plot to free the Romanovs and what happened to those two
missing bodies, for which he provides an interesting and perhaps partly
plausible explanation. Translations of the wording of the notes sent to
the Romanovs during the alleged White officers’ attempt to free them are
reproduced in indented type – the majority of the notes, written in
French, are now in the Russian archives.
The twist in the tale is that what we hear from the kitchen boy
“Leonka” – now an ailing old man living in Chicago, and fabulously
wealthy after smuggling some of the Romanov treasures out of Russia – is
not the straight scoop we are led to believe. The narrator was in “The
House of Special Purpose” and did have knowledge of the events he
describes, but he keeps mum about his true story even when making a tape
recording for his granddaughter, Kate, supposedly telling her what
happened. It remains for Kate to travel to modern-day St. Petersburg to
find out the entire truth of what occurred and of her grandfather’s role
in the tragedy. This mystery and the overall telling of the story make
for a beguiling and entertaining romance.
© Christopher T. George
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