Russian Idyll

A Russian summer, nostalgic and dreamy, textured and spare, Bunin's landscape and lovers - all under the sun, in sunflower fields, awaiting inevitable snow... awaiting, perhaps, the exile's return from Paris, from Nobel - like Gorky, poor Gorky, the dead son, the shuttered villa... ("I dare say it's time for all us nineteenth century writers … Continue reading Russian Idyll