784
pages, Alfred A. Knopf, ISBN-13: 978-0307266521
A
century after the fall of the Romanovs Dynasty their fate still inspires a
sense of horror-filled awe; that a family of rulers that had endured for three-hundred-plus
years could lose everything within a few days’ time, be imprisoned within its
own palaces, and eventually suffer horrendous death and mutilation is difficult
to comprehend. As a novel or a movie it would stretch credulity beyond all
limits…and yet, it happened. The story of the Romanovs rise and fall has been
told before, but rarely with such color and verve. In keeping with the dramatic
events he describes in 650 pages, plus another 100 pages of notes and an
extensive bibliography, Simon Sebag Montefiore in his book The Romanovs: 1613-1918 has divided his work into three Acts
subdivided into Scenes.
Act
I covers the early history of the Romanov Dynasty, beginning with the selection
of a 16 year old boy, Michael Fedorovich Romanov, as Tsar in 1613. Russia had
endured years of civil war and conflict, and the young Romanov was chosen
because he was seen as harmless and unlikely to cause trouble for the powerful
boyars who held most of the power. Michael I and his son Alexei I were able to
securely establish themselves in power and to get the upper hand on the boyars,
setting the stage for Act II, in which Alexei’s son Peter I forcibly dragged
Russia into the modern era, capturing land on the coasts of the Baltic and
Black Seas and building a new capital, St. Petersburg, as his “window on the
west”. Peter was succeeded by a series of short lived rulers until his daughter
Elizabeth managed to seize power and continue her father’s work. Elizabeth’s
foolish nephew Peter III threatened to undo much of his aunt and grandfather’s
work, but he was overthrown and replaced by his wife, a German princess who
became Empress Catherine the Great, the second great modernizing ruler of
Russia. After Catherine’s unstable son Paul I was overthrown in 1801 her
grandson became Tsar Alexander I, who oversaw Russia's defense against and
eventual triumph over Napoleon. Act III begins with the Decembrist Revolt of
1825 and the accession of Tsar Nicholas I, then covers the reigns of the last
Romanov rulers Alexander II, Alexander III, Nicholas II and Michael II
(Nicholas’s brother who “reigned” for one day in March, 1917).
Throughout
the three acts and many scenes Montefiore’s emphasis is on the personalities of
the tsars, empresses, and their families and courtiers. It seems clear that a
hereditary streak of madness or megalomania ran through the Romanovs in their
first centuries in power, and occasionally manifested itself in later years
(even after the original Romanov line may have come to an end with the murder
of the miserable Peter III.) Certainly all the Romanovs were resolute in their
determination to maintain and enhance their power and Russia’s status as a
great nation. Their personal lives were extremely messy and often hazardous to
everyone around them, and certainly played a major role in the dynasty’s
ultimate collapse. Most people are familiar with the tragedy of Nicholas II,
his wife Alexandra, and their family, but the story of Tsar Alexander II’s long
infatuation with the much younger Ekaterina Dolgorouky, while less well known,
had almost as much of an impact on Russian history.
Some
of the criticisms leveled at this book miss the point. Montefiore has written a
sweeping, thrilling, occasionally funny, always thoughtful examination of the
ENTIRE dynasty, 300-plus years of it. He describes what he feels is a Russian
problem: the desire of a ruler with absolute power to exercise complete
control, and the needs of a vast country for a government that can function
efficiently, and a military that is disciplined, prepared and professional.
There is a built in clash in these needs, one felt by the tsars and empresses
and by Lenin and Stalin (about whom Montefiore has written an absorbing
two-volume biography) – the insistence of the autocrat that all of his/her
power be felt constantly, and the fact that government bureaucracy and military
organization need a degree of autonomy and continuity. Montefiore does not
scant the many remarkable and/or heinous personalities of the various tsarist
courts but his continual theme is the challenge of governing by fiat, or whim,
or crazy impulse and the resulting chaos, discontinuity, policy reversals, mass
murders, ill-advised or badly fought wars, astoundingly complex intrigue and
manipulation, resulting finally in the horrible murders of the last tsar, his
entire immediate family, and most of his relatives.
But
even Nicholas II did not want to cede absolute power, though he might have
lived if he had. Of course, incredible figures such as Peter the Great,
Catherine the Great and Alexander II deserve full books (and have gotten them).
But in The Romanovs Montefiore uses a
huge range of research, especially into their private papers, available for the
first time in many cases to him, to let the autocrats, great and deeply flawed,
and their confidants and victims speak for themselves in their genius,
seductiveness, craziness, and cruelty, Although the book is immensely
researched and carefully documented Montefiore has an old fashioned sweeping
narrative style. The energy and color in his writing make are irresistible. He
has a sense of humor about the many myths that collected around the famous
Romanovs, and he explodes them with wit and understanding. But when dealing
with facts he is sharp-eyed and unsentimental.
The Romanovs is a well told
and lively read, filled with anecdotes and details (many of them given in some
fascinating footnotes) that held my interest throughout. I especially enjoyed
the short prologue which compares two teenagers: 16 year old Michael who began
the dynasty in 1613, and 14 year old Alexei whose hemophilia helped bring down
the Romanovs and led to his and his family's brutal executions in 1918. The
brief epilogue comparing the Romanovs to the Soviet and post-Soviet leaders who
succeeded them was also enlightening. The illustrations are well chosen and
make the book even more sumptuous. In many ways as horrifying as Suetonius and
Tacitus’ histories of the Roman Caesars, this tale of the later Russian Caesars
is just as compulsively readable.
