I love the October Revolution. I love Lenin and Trotsky, both for different reasons.
One of my favorite stories about the October Revolution takes place after Lenin has seized control of the government, and he and Trotsky are sitting in the Czar’s palace dining hall, being waited on the Czar’s servants, who Lenin couldn’t bare to fire because they had devoted their lives to their jobs, and that was all they knew.
Lenin and Trotsky are sitting at a table in the dining hall discussing strategy. The head servant walks up to them and reverently asks them what they’d like for dinner. The revolutionaries say ‘roots and gravy’, which was a common peasant meal. The head servant reminds them they could have anything they want. They are busy, so they stick with ‘roots and gravy’.
Eventually the head servant brings their meal to them on the Czar’s own personal China. The Czar, who had lived in opulent luxury while his people starved, had the best forks and spoons and plates.
Lenin and Trotsky look at their peasant meal of roots and gravy served on this ridiculously decadent dining ware, look at each other, and laugh their balls off.
It’s a beautiful story.
One of my favorite stories about the October Revolution takes place after Lenin has seized control of the government, and he and Trotsky are sitting in the Czar’s palace dining hall, being waited on the Czar’s servants, who Lenin couldn’t bare to fire because they had devoted their lives to their jobs, and that was all they knew.
Lenin and Trotsky are sitting at a table in the dining hall discussing strategy. The head servant walks up to them and reverently asks them what they’d like for dinner. The revolutionaries say ‘roots and gravy’, which was a common peasant meal. The head servant reminds them they could have anything they want. They are busy, so they stick with ‘roots and gravy’.
Eventually the head servant brings their meal to them on the Czar’s own personal China. The Czar, who had lived in opulent luxury while his people starved, had the best forks and spoons and plates.
Lenin and Trotsky look at their peasant meal of roots and gravy served on this ridiculously decadent dining ware, look at each other, and laugh their balls off.
It’s a beautiful story.
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