We talked about H. G. Wells, and he said that the only book of his he
had read was “Joan and Peter,” but that he had not read it to the end.
He liked the description at the beginning of the English intellectual
bourgeois life. He admitted that he should have read, and regretted not
having read some of the earlier fantastic novels about wars in the air
and the world set free. I am told that Lenin manages to get through a
good deal of reading. On his desk was a volume by Chiozza Money. He
asked me if I had had any trouble in getting through to his room, and I
explained that Borodin had accompanied me. I then had the face to
suggest that Borodin, being an extremely intelligent man who can speak
good English, would make a good Ambassador to England when there is
Peace. Lenin looked at me with the most amused expression, his eyes
seemed to see right through me, and then said: “That would please
Monsieur Churchill wouldn’t it?” I asked if Winston was the most hated
Englishman. He shrugged his shoulders, and then added something about
Churchill being the man with all the force of the capitalists behind
him. We argued about that, but he did not want to hear my opinion, his
own being quite unshakable. He talked about Winston being my cousin, and
I said rather apologetically that I could not help it, and informed him
that I had another cousin who was a Sinn Feiner. He laughed, and said
“that must be a cheerful party when you three get together.” I suppose
it would be cheerful, but we have never all three been together!
During these four hours he never smoked, and never even drank a cup of
tea. I have never worked so long on end before, and at 3.45 I could hold
out no longer. I was blind with weariness and hunger, and said good-bye.
He promised to sit on the revolving stand to-morrow. If all goes well, I
think I ought to be able to finish him. I do hope it is good. I think it
looks more like him than any of the busts I have seen yet. He has a
curious Slav face, and looks very ill.
When I asked for news of England, he offered me the three latest “Daily
Heralds” he had, dated September 21, 22 and 23. I brought them back and
we all fell upon them, Russians and American alike. As for me, I have
spent a blissful evening reading about the Irish Rebellion and the
Miners’ dispute, as if it were yesterday’s news, and the Irene Munro and
Bamberger cases. Goodness, one feels as though one had looked through a
window and seen home on the horizon.
How tired I was; I had eaten nothing since 10 a.m. and dinner was not
until 9 p.m. In between I ate some of my English biscuits.
OCTOBER 8TH.
Started work again in Lenin’s room. I went by myself this time, and got
past all the sentries with the pass that I had been given. I took my
kodak with me, although I had not the necessary kodak permission. I put
a coat over my arm, which hid it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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