#;;a revolution is a simple thing | {gleb vaganov}

[ao3feed-anastasia]

the neva flows a new wind blows and soon it will be spring (the leaves unfold the tsar lies cold a revolution is a simple thing)

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/3qOoN1i by LittleJelly469 A rumor was going around in St. Petersburg (or Leningrad, as he was supposed to call it); one child of King Nicholas II, his first son the Prince Gavriil Nikolaevich Romanova in fact, was alive somewhere around the world. aka Gleb is Anastasia, Anya doesn't exist, gays are happy, homophobia doesn't exist Words: 11935, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: M/M Characters: Dimitri | Dmitry (Anastasia 1997 & Broadway), Gleb Vaganov, Vlad Popov, Lily Malevsky-Malevitch, Dowager Empress (Anastasia 1997 & Broadway), Original Male Character(s) Relationships: Dimitri | Dmitry/Gleb Vaganov, Lily Malevsky-Malevitch/Vlad Popov, Dimitri | Dmitry & Vlad Popov Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Sexual Content, No Period-Typical Homophobia, Gleb is Anastasia, Anya does not exist, Domestic Boyfriends, First Kiss, Getting Together, First Time, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, My First Smut, please be kind, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I wrote this in less than 2 days read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/3qOoN1i

[walkingshcdow-a]

@hcpebelief | Ruslan & Gleb

The warm sunshine that percolated through the window of Gleb’s office should have been sweet; mid-July and Leningrad had finally thawed in full. The streets below buzzed with life. Celebration hung in the air. The people had so little to celebrate, but at least now, they were free of the tyranny of the Romanov dynasty and free to create a  government with the people’s best interests at heart. Any other day, Gleb would partake in the celebratory atmosphere of the office. An excuse to praise their burgeoning society, to speak of lofty ideals, to raise a glass in the hope of a brighter future was something Gleb relished. 

But today was the anniversary of the execution of the Romanovs.

Gleb could still hear the silence.

Today he tried to fill it by spending as much time as he could stand in the company of others. He shadowed the steps of his soldiers and worked a morning beat. He scoured the halls for someone to spend the quiet lulls with throughout the day. He stayed near Stefan’s side until his second-in-command found a thinly veiled excuse to leave Gleb alone. Alone, he had to face that endless stillness and quiet and even though he could hear the click and whir of typewriters in the next room over, the occasional ring of a telephone, conversation, he had to strain to hear it. It faded so easily in favor of memory. Gleb needed to do paperwork but could not focus and had already made simple mistakes on forms that Liesel had been kind enough to catch and return to him. Glances, some gentle, some piercing, followed him through the halls and Gleb had more than once heard gossip as he passed by open doors.

His father was one of the guards...

That explains how he rose through the ranks... sometimes it’s as if things never changed at all...

More than a few times today, Gleb heard others speculate about how he’d come by his position so young. Few people said anything of his merit as a leader and soldier, even though every other day of the year, he swore he had the respect of his men. Maybe not. His father’s shadow loomed large, so large, that it didn’t matter that the sun shone and Russia was free. Gleb was not a free man and he never would be. 

Sometimes, like today, he thought he would always be a teenager in Yekaterinburg, listening outside the palace-prison’s gates, listening as his father killed girls his own age in the name of liberty. 

He tried once more to read reports that had been left on his desk, but the words blurred together. A knock at the door that interrupted the echoing silence in his head sent the sweetest rush of relief through Gleb’s frayed nerves. He called for the person to enter and hoped they would stay just long enough to remind him that he was no longer a scared, little boy, but a grown man and commanding officer. 

“Ruslan,” Gleb said, shoulders dropping, relaxed as the door swung open. Remembering himself, he squared up once more and stood. “Major General Essen. Come in, is everything all right?”

[lady--lioness]

She's near at hand Yet here I stand My heart and mind at war The times must change The world must change And love is not what revolution's for Someone holds her safe and warm Someone rescues her from the storm Simple things But one thing's clear It's fate that brought us here

Something I had to take out of my system: Pallas and Kurt as Anastasia and Gleb Vaganov from the Anastasia musical... It inspired me an absurd AU that right now is my comfort space: What if Pallas' identity was discovered and Kurt got orders to kill her?

[walkingshcdow-a]

Mira's warm arms curling around his, her head upon his shoulder, surprises Gleb. He is more than touchstarved. He is a pariah in Paris and he tries not to think how much Mira must know about that. She has her brothers and will always have them. Gleb has been alone for nearly ten years. He isn’t sure how to return the embrace, but his body knows better than he does. He turns to face her. Resting a hand against her cheek, he strokes gently with his thumb. He breathes shallowly, afraid that a sudden movement will make her vanish. Right now, she is warm and real and Gleb thinks that if she knew what he had been before Paris, she could never have looked at him with such kindness. It scares him, what kind of man he has been and the type of man he is becoming. Neither were ever his intention. He only wanted to do what’s right; now he just wants peace. He thinks he’s found a little of it in her touch.

But then she speaks and Gleb bites his lip, waiting for judgment to come. Instead she tells him he is a good and kind man. That she likes him as he is now. Sometimes, he likes himself as he is now, too. He has the natural instinct to protest, though, that he is neither good nor kind, but he swallows his protests and continues to listen.

Had Arman served in wars? It’s hard to imagine Arman as a soldier, following orders, killing when told. He wants to ask but does not. The Great War took so many lives and scarred so many more. He is not in the habit of reopening others wounds to see what’s inside. Still, as she uses Arman as a reason to believe in the world again, Gleb just shakes his head.

“It is enough,” Gleb says, of the fire and of her company. He is used to the gnawing hunger in his chest. That it dulls when he sits with her is enough. It is more than he deserves. “I don’t think I’ve known as much peace a I know with you and your brothers.”

He pauses. Then he grins. He knows Arman and Teo will never believe that’s true. He doubts Mira will either so, quietly, he says -

“I knew you would be a spitfire from the start,” he says. “But I’ve always found peace in a challenge.”

walkingshcdow‌:

Gleb has forgotten what it is to sit in the company of optimists. He smiles faintly. Once upon a time, he was one. An idealist. How his illusions have shattered! The broken shards cut into him, reminding him he had one had so much he had lost and to live for and now, there is only this: working two jobs, a little company. How humbled is he, the mighty general who had once dreamed of changing the world! Primed to do it, he’d sacrificed all for a woman, who he had loved painfully and unrequitedly. He does not regret it, for Anya’s life deserved to be spared. She is as much her father as he is his.They’d been young and blameless and helpless as the sea of revolution swallowed them whole. Buoyed by dreams, Gleb found himself barely treading water without them. How dangerous it was to trust something than one’s own ability to swim the tide!

Now that he renounced his father and lost his country, what good are his ideals? And if his ideals mean nothing, what good are dreams? He smiles palely at Mira as she speaks passionately of the importance of dreams. He leans forward, elbows on his knees and stares into the fire. His smile flickers with the light, more ironic than it is warm. 

“Would it surprise you to know I used to have dreams?” he asks her. “That until very recently, I would have agreed with you on all accounts? I’m not a cynic by nature. I’m only tired.”

He does not mean that he is tired from his day, although it is true enough. He enjoys working for Arman. It supplements his tutoring job nicely, allowing him to use his hands and not just his mind, which is often the release his spirit cries out for. But he still wakes up at 4 o’clock in the morning, with limited exception, still runs and exercises like a soldier preparing for war. A second family has hired him to tutor. If he keeps busy, he doesn’t have to endure nightmares. But without nightmares, he does not have dreams, either. Things are better and worse than ever before and Gleb prefers things that are not so complicated. Even at its worst, life in Leningrad was structured and easier to have concrete hopes for. In Paris, he is too disillusioned to hope; too impermanent to imagine concrete things. He does not really think life is cruel - only that it has an ironic sense of humor and that too often, he has been the butt of its jokes. Should he tell Mira how dearly he has clung to life and how fruitlessly he has fought for it - for himself and for others? He is not a bad man. He is a bad soldier. He has always considered his worth to be how well he protects and serves. He does neither now. He may never have done either to begin with. That terrifies him.

Perhaps he would not be so introspective tonight, if today had been easier. It is the anniversary of the czar’s assassination, however, and Paris is too green and vibrant to mark the occasion. He has been in Paris a little less than a year and this is the first anniversary he’d spent here. He expected it to be colder. Instead, it had only rained a little this morning and been a vaguely sunny afternoon throughout the city. He only wants to go home to a bottle of vodka; he doesn’t want to go home to only a bottle of vodka. He cannot mourn with the expatriate community; the White Russians will not have him. He cannot articulate his grief to Mira; she has accepted him and he cannot lose her. He sighs.

“Eleven years ago today was a very important day in Russian history,” he says. “A tragic one. When it happened, I hoped it would be worth all the loss, and instead - “

He thinks Russia will never recover. He knows he never will. He had been happy in his ignorance, his simpleness. Now, he thinks the only person who might understand him will have nothing to do with him, today of all days especially, and he cannot blame her. He can taste her name on his tongue. He bites down until he tastes blood instead.

“I haven’t found new dreams to replace the ones I’ve lost, Mira. Now, I don’t think I will. Your family has been kind to me and that is real and I am thankful for it. Sometimes I wish you and I had met … before.”

He likes to imagine she would have liked him them - a man of ideals, clumsy and kind off-duty… Then he remembers what he was like on-duty and he knows she never would have liked him and he would have never noticed her. The thought makes him feel queasy and he rubs his cheek. His smile fades away. 

“… Perhaps not. You might not have liked me much at all then and I can’t say I could blame you. Dreams drive men to do dangerous, stupid, hungry things. I’m glad to be rid of them, if it means having a life.”

Her eyes do not leave his face, even when he leans forward, readjusting that she can better see him, noting each change of his expression. The not quite smile. The sorrow. The shadow. How much it pains her! Both whatever haunts him so much and that she does not know it. That she cannot more specifically comfort him…

As it is, she listens to all he says and does not say until he falls silent once more, and then she readjusts again. 

Gathering up her skirts, she moves to bring her legs up onto the sofa and under her that she might move closer without hindrance. And then she leans against him, her arms wrapping around his arm closest to her, her chin resting against his shoulder, eyes solely on him. Her gaze is soft as she looks at him. There is no suspicion. No disgust. No dismissal. If only he could he know that there would not be even were he to tell her.

For a moment, she simply offers him this comfort. This closeness. This contact. Affection is as necessary to her as breathing and doubly so when someone she cares for is suffering, whether from physical ailments or whatever torments the mind might conjure. 

“I would suppose that what one might be driven to do depends upon the dreams as well as upon many other things…” she says at last. “Perhaps you are right. I canno’ know your past just as you canno’ know mine if I have no’ told you…”

Yet, ere any sting might settle from her allowance, one hand moves to take his hand into her much smaller one and gives a gentle squeeze.

“Pero… even if you are right, tha’ I would no’ ‘ave liked you then… I like you quite well now. You are a good man. A kind man. An’ I am no’ the only one to think so or Arman would never have offered you to work with him, or invited you into our home, an’ so tha’ es something, ¿sí?”

A sad smile of her own appears and disappears almost as quickly as she rests her head against his shoulder, dark eyes at last moving to the fire.

“… You an’ mi hermano are alike in some ways… Arman has seen too much of the world an’ been lef’ to do too much to survive it an’ to protect us… that he does no’ believe in things such as dreams or in the goodness of people. A’ least, so it was for many years… He is… brighter now? than he has been for some time…” A soft laugh. “Perhaps Paris agrees with him?”

She looks to him once more.

“… To dream, to hold to hope es no’ a simple thing… An’ sometimes es painful… an’ yet, for all I have seen, for as much as it has hurt a’ times… still I mus’ believe.”

For herself. For Arman. And Teo. Perhaps now for Gleb as well.

“In time, you might again as well. If you allow it of yourself…”

But she understands what he means when he says he is tired. She knows that weary feeling, both by her own experience and from her times supporting Arman when he needed it…

“However… tomorrow or long after is for another day. It is for then…… For the now, there es a quiet night an’ a warm fire an’––I will hope that you will agree with me––good comp’ny,” she says, trying to tease, to lighten this mood, even if only a little. 

“Sometimes that es enough. Sometimes i’ has to be enough.”

[thosekhakis]

Anastasia in Translation

Or: an in-depth analysis of English-Dutch translation shifts in Gleb’s lyrical lines in the stage musical Anastasia Okay, so this is a post literally no one needs except me, but I’m making it anyway. After seeing the Dutch staging of Anastasia I’ve been intrigued with some of the choices made in the translation of the lyrics, particularly when it comes to Gleb and the main conflict he deals with in this musical. René van Kooten certainly plays him differently from OBC incarnation I have seen. For example, the scene in which Anya and Gleb first met is played with considerably less silliness, even though Gleb’s ‘I’m here every day’ retains its desperation. Gleb seems (even) more serious in some ways, and I was wondering how much of that has been given in by translation, so here y’all are – an in-depth analysis of English-Dutch translation shifts in Gleb’s lyrical lines in the stage musical Anastasia. Before I start this, I want to say that I’m not doing this to criticise the translation made by Daniël Cohen – translating lyrics is a job I don’t envy and I think he did a wonderful job. I’m merely trying to see what was emphasised in translation and how this might have impacted the show as a whole. The reason I’m only looking at the lyrical translations is a simple point of access: I do not have access to the complete scrips for either the English-language or Dutch production, and will be using the cast recordings to compare the texts. Any songs that are not on the cast recording, such as Gleb’s short reprise of ‘Land of Yesterday’, will sadly not be included. Abbreviations used: ST = source text (OBC lyrics) TT = target text (Dutch translation) Lit. = literally Now, without further ado, I will start with the first song Gleb sings in. ‘The Neva Flows’ In this song, Gleb warns Anya of the danger of rumours and reveals his entire background story. Convenient, and very interesting in translation too. Be very careful of these rumors that prevail Be very careful what you say I was a boy who lived the truth behind the tale And no one got away I saw the children as the soldiers closed the gate The youngest daughter and her pride My father leaving on the night they met their fate His pistol by his side Wees heel voorzichtig met de dingen die je zegt Pas op voor ieder vals gerucht Ik was nog jong maar niemand is dat weet ik echt Die dag de dood ontvlucht Ik zag de kinderen, toen ging het hek op slot De jongste dochter zo kordaat Ik zag mijn vader als de beulsknecht van het lot Met zijn pistool paraat While the immediately noticeable shift is that the song doesn’t start with rumours (which do appear in the second line), perhaps the most interesting shift in the start of the song is the addition of ‘beulsknecht van het lot’ (lit. executioner of fate) in the TT when Gleb is talking of his father. Gleb is very clear on who his father was and what he has done, and a double play on ‘beulsknecht’ is introduced: he executed a family, as well as fate. Gleb clearly believes in the righteousness of his father’s actions here, as early as the first verse. The Neva flows A new wind blows And soon it will be spring The leaves unfold The tsar lies cold A revolution is a simple thing De Njeva stroomt Een volk dat droomt Van lente pril en rein De sneeuw die wijkt De tsaar bezwijkt Zo simpel kan een revolutie zijn The chorus also introduces Gleb’s feelings towards the revolution clearly. When the ‘new wind blows’, the TT speaks of the dreams of the people. The spring Gleb sings about is ‘pril en rein’ (lit. young and clean) in the TT. These small hints reveal, perhaps more than the ST, that Gleb is behind this revolution completely. I heard the shots I heard the screams But it’s the silence after I remember most The world stopped breathing And I was no longer a boy Ik hoorde schoten Ik hoorde schreeuwen Maar de stilte daarna klinkt nog steeds De wereld stokte En ik was niet langer een kind This verse is well-translated and continues the trend of strengthening the ST. Whereas OBC Gleb remembers the silence, Dutch Gleb poses that it still ‘klinkt’ (i.e. he can still physically hear it). Trauma much? My father shook his head and told me not to ask My mother said he died of shame But I believe he did a proud and vital task And in my father’s name Mijn vader weigerde te praten van die nacht Zijn schaamte dreef hem naar de dood Maar ik geloof dat hij iets nobels heeft volbracht En hou zijn naam nu groot Another small shift in this verse: Gleb doesn’t just act in his father’s name like in the ST, but ‘hou[dt] zijn naam groot’ (lit. keeps his name big), which once again emphasises Gleb’s adoration for his father. A shift which may not seem relevant at the first glance is the deletion of ‘My mother said [he died of shame]’. The TT reads ‘Zijn schaamte dreef hem naar de dood’ (lit. his shame drove him to death), which deleted the implication that Gleb only heard this from his mother and that it may not even be true. As Tumblr user december-dragon writes in this post, Stepan Vaganov was a historical executioner who was killed by peasants in 1918 for assisting in brutal acts committed by the Cheka. December-dragon proposes that this has left Gleb with two upbringings: a father who did in fact not regret his actions but insisted on the value of duty, and a mother who told him his father did in fact feel shame because she wants her son to have a moral compass. This line in the ST gives some more context to the duty vs. morality conflict in Gleb’s character, which is deleted in translation. Instead, the translation chooses to focus on Gleb’s father and in a sense makes him the sole motivation for his actions. This erases some of the nuance of the conflict between duty vs. morality found in Gleb’s character background. This verse is followed by the chorus, and while there is no difference in translation, a difference in performance is that Anya now starts to sing with him. Does she, too, believe in the revolution? Is Dutch Gleb so strong as to convince her? Could I have pulled the trigger if I had been told? Be careful what a dream may bring Revolution is a simple thing Had ik toen kunnen schieten toen men dat zei? Pas op niet elke droom is fijn Zo simpel kan een revolutie zijn The ST ends full circle: at the start Gleb warned Anya of rumours and what they may bring, and he ends on a warning for dreams (which she harbours due to those very rumours): previous dreams have led to a revolution, and if Anya dreams too much she might become a threat to the existing order, which will put her in harm’s way. In the ST, this idea is continued in the next scene: Gleb warns Anya as both friend and officer, and in ‘Still’ sings of his wish to protect her. In the TT, the translation breaks from what it has been doing so far. So far Gleb has only been supportive of the new Russia and of his father’s ideals. In the TT, however, Gleb sings that ‘niet elke droom is fijn’ (lit. not every dream is pleasant), in which he hints more clearly at the pain and suffering that the revolution has caused Russia and his family. Simultaneously, it could be read as Gleb dreaming about him being in his father’s footsteps. This display of awareness allows Gleb some more emotional depth and enforces the conflict latent in the ST. This Gleb is not (just) about protecting Anya, but shows some awareness of the horrors of revolution – despite his own certainty about their necessity. Dutch Gleb displays, perhaps, more emotional maturity in his train of thought than OBC Gleb, as will also be clear in the translation of the following song. ‘Still’ This song takes place right after Gleb knows that Anya has escaped from his clutches; he wonders about her motives and own role and feelings. In translation, some subtle shifts take place. An underhanded girl An act of desperation And to my consternation I let her go Een onbetrouwbaar wicht Ze zal haar vingers branden En ik heb tot mijn schande Haar laten gaan In the first verse, a few things immediately catch my attention. While in the ST Gleb calls Anya simply a girl, the TT contains the word ‘wicht’. In Dutch, this word can be used to denote a young girl, but has a negative meaning as well as sound: it’s commonly used to denote girls who are stubborn, stupid or annoying. The [x]-sound at the end of the song (like in Loch Ness) is common in Dutch, but does give the first sentence a harsh ending. This negative view of Anya continues in the next line. While the ST reads ‘An act of desperation’, which shows some of the understanding that Gleb might have for Anya’s situation, the Dutch text reads ‘Ze zal haar vingers branden’ (lit. she’ll burn her fingers), imagining a punishment for her behaviour. The imagery of Anya as purposefully deceiving vs. innocent poor girl is lost here. A last notable shift in this verse is Gleb’s English ‘consternation’ vs. his Dutch ‘schande’. In the ST Gleb is confused, shocked and perhaps annoyed by his own actions, while the Dutch ‘schande’ speaks clearly of shame. This hints perhaps at a deeper emotional maturity for the Dutch Gleb – he feels shame, but no confusion. She wants what she can get Is that a fair depiction Does she believe her fiction It’s hard to know De dingen die ze doet Gaan mijn verstand teboven Ze lijkt het te geloven Haar grootheidswaan The second verse knows a lot of shifts from the ST. In the ST Gleb muses on whether Anya is ‘pretending’ to be Anastasia, because if she can, why wouldn’t she? Then, he asks himself whether she actually believes it or not – he is unable to decide. In the TT Gleb speaks of ‘the things she does’ that he doesn’t understand, but says ‘ze lijkt het te geloven / haar grootheidswaan’ (lit. she seems to believe it / her delusions of grandeur). The TT poses some confusion towards Anya’s actions, but not her motives; Dutch Gleb is more certain that Anya believes that she is Anastasia. Again, some of Gleb’s confusion has gone missing. Is it innocence or guile? Or nothing but a childish act of will? She doesn’t know she needs you She willfully misleads you But still Still Is zij koppig of gedwee? Onschuldig of bedreven in bedrog? Ze ziet niet wie haar vriend is Ze liegt wat niet verdiend is Maar toch Toch The TT chorus then does strongly introduce Gleb’s conflict. Gleb considers the following options as Anya’s motivation: she is an innocent victim (innocence vs. onschuldig), she purposefully deceives him (guile / willfully misleads you vs. bedriven in bedrog / liegt wat niet verdiend is) or she actually believes she is Anastasia (childish act of will / koppig). One shift from the ST is the lack of emphasis on Gleb’s own role in all this. While Gleb’s ‘She doesn’t know she needs you’ clearly denotes his own longing to help Anya, the Dutch says ‘Ze ziet niet wie haar vriend is’ (lit. she doesn’t see who is her friend). While the implications are similar, this translation could easily mean that Anya has mistaken Dmitry and Vlad for friends – which would erase the focus on Gleb’s own feelings. A son becomes a man At his father’s knee If my father asked questions, well Where would we be? Een zoon die wordt een man Aan zijn vaders hand Zijn gehoorzaamheid Dat was geen angst maar verstand At it again with the daddy issues. The main shift in this verse is the inclusion of the line ‘Zijn gehoorzaamheid / Dat was geen angst maar verstand’ in the TT. While ‘gehoorzaamheid’ (lit. obedience) is also in the ST, the TT poses that his obedience was borne from rationality instead of fear. The idea of fear is not included in the ST and gives Dutch Gleb some well-earned emotion after all: while this Gleb is not fighting confusion, he seems to be combatting fear. She’s nothing but a child A waif who needs protection I feel a strange connection I can’t allow Zij is nog maar een kind Dat hunkert naar affectie Ik voel een soort connectie Is dat verkeerd? This verse has been translated rather literally, except for the sentence ‘a waif who needs protection’. While the ST focuses on the protection Gleb could offer Anya, the TT has Gleb say that she wants affection – and hints that he wants that too. Dutch Gleb is not a man who wants to just help and protect Anya, he is pretty certain of his feelings already: he wants to give her affection and he wants to receive hers. He wonders if he is wrong in the last line, but he doesn’t repress the feelings like OBC Gleb, who tells himself he can’t allow a connection at all. This once again gives Dutch Gleb some more emotional maturity. She said it’s all a game She trembles like a flower But in her there’s a power I see that now I’m nothing but a man With nothing but his orders to fulfill Al noemt ze het een spel En trilt ze ietwat tragisch Daarbinnen zit iets magisch Dat intrigeert Ik ben simpelweg een man Die handelt op bevel en wat dan nog? Like the previous TT verse, this verse gives Dutch Gleb more certainty about his feelings for Anya. While OBC Gleb talks of Anya’s power, Dutch Gleb speaks of the intriguing magic within her, willfully admitting that she intrigues him. Another hint at his certainty in his role is the addition of ‘en wat dan nog’ (lit. so what) to the fairly literal translation of the final lines. Whereas in the ST Gleb seems to pose himself as as man who is a slave of his orders, TT Gleb pronounces to the world that he is indeed that man, and tells the audience: so what? That is what I am, and that is what you’re getting. This again hints at more certainty and maturity in Gleb’s feelings. ‘I’m innocent!’ she cries But then you see her eyes Then something in them tells you that she absolutely lies Until your heart replies But still Still Still Ze smeekt je, 'laat me gaan!' Maar dan kijkt ze je aan Dan zij je in die ogen elke grove leugen staan Je hart gaat sneller slaan Maar toch Toch Toch The final verse is translated fairly literally, but includes one notable addition that once again confirms Gleb’s feelings. While in the ST he sings ‘until your heart replies’, which can refer to his romantic feelings about Anya but also to general feelings of compassion, the TT reads ‘Je hart gaat sneller slaan’ (lit. your heart begins to beat faster), which hints more clearly at Gleb’s romantic feelings. Throughout the translation of ‘Still’, Gleb gains more emotional surety and perhaps even maturity. He is more certain of who he is and what his feelings about Anya are, and his doubts are generally weakened. He doesn’t delude himself that he wants to protect her. He wants her. ‘Quartet at the Ballet’ Another obvious point to look for Gleb’s romantic feelings towards Anya is ‘Quartet at the Ballet’, in which he watches her from the balcony. She’s near at hand Yet here I stand My heart and mind at war The times must change The world must change And love is not what revolution’s for Ik zie haar daar En aarzel maar Mijn hart vecht met mijn brein De wereld splijt Een nieuwe tijd Ook liefde kan een revolutie zijn While the ST is in this case pretty clear about Gleb’s heart being in the game when it comes to Anya, he immediately proclaims that this can’t be his motivation: he supports the revolution, and love is not allowed to get in the way. In the TT, however, Gleb proclaims ‘Ook liefde kan een revolutie zijn’ (Love can be a revolution too), in which he reveals just how strongly he feels about Anya. Up until this point Dutch Gleb has always held to his own causes, and now he states that love might be a revolution, which can be read in multiple ways: love can be as strong as a revolution, love has caused a revolution in him, love is to him now equal to the revolution. It is impossible to pinpoint with which meaning the translator has chosen to change this line, but it is clear that this shifts the focus of Gleb’s motivations away from simple protection or morality, and places it very explicitly on his love for Anya. As seen before, this Gleb does not doubt his love. He is certain, and it is strong: perhaps love is part of the new world order. Someone holds her safe and warm Someone rescues her from the storm Simple things but one thing’s clear It’s fate that brought us here Iemand die haar veilig houdt Iemand die zij compleet vertrouwt Lijkt zo simpel maar let wel Het lot dat speelt een spel The verse that Gleb sings with Dmitry knows one relevant shift, namely that as before the focus on rescuing and saving is deleted as much as possible. The word ‘rescues’ is here replaced by the idea that Anya will find someone she trusts, which speaks more of a healthy relationship than a saviour complex. ‘The Neva Flows / Still’ (Reprise)’ For obvious reasons, the translation of this song bears much similarity to the translation of ‘The Neva Flows’ and ‘Still’. For the lyrical translations of those songs I concluded that Gleb portrays more certainty of his feelings for Anya, and in general more emotional maturity: he is aware of who he is and his doubt is smaller than in the ST. This trend is continued in the reprise. The children Their voices A man makes painful choices He does what’s necessary Anya Ik hoor ze Ze gillen Maar ik heb niets te willen Een man vervult zijn plichten Anya At the musical’s climactic point, Gleb sings about the children’s voices In the ST, Gleb keeps his lines rather passive: he talks of a man and painful choices, but doesn’t refer to himself. In the TT, the scene is made more personal. One of the first shifts is the addition of ‘ik hoor’ (lit. I hear) to the TT. Instead of merely referring to the children’s voices, Dutch Gleb sings more explicitly that he hears them and is still haunted by them (mirroring the haunting silence he sang of in ‘The Neva Flows’). Additionally, Gleb does not simply hear ‘voices’ in the TT, but hears them ‘gillen’ (lit. yell). OBC Gleb is haunted by the image of the children in general, perhaps screaming but perhaps simply playing as well. Dutch Gleb, however, specifically refers to the trauma that was done to the Romanovs and the screams. The aggression of the revolution is more clearly embedded into Gleb’s mind. The next line ‘A man makes painful choices’, continues the trend of making the lyrics more personal: Gleb sings not of ‘a man’ but again uses ‘ik’. In addition to the more personal nature of the Dutch line, the text is also subject to a shift that makes Gleb’s reliance on duty more obvious. In the ST Gleb speaks about ‘painful choices’, thus posing duty vs. morality as a choice that he has difficulty with. Dutch Gleb sings that he has ‘niets te willen’ (lit. nothing to want), meaning that the idea of a choice in itself is erased. Similarly, the word ‘necessary’ is translated as ‘plichten’ (lit. duties), making the reference to duty explicit. The struggle of duty vs. morality is once again weakened: Gleb knows his duty and will follow in his father’s footsteps. For Russia, my beauty What choice but simple duty We have a past to bury, Anya De keuze is simpel Voor Ruslands rode wimpel moet jouw verleden zwichten, Anya While in the lines above ‘duty’ itself is left untranslated, the Dutch translation also transfers the idea that if there even is a choice, the choice is simple, if not by shifting the more neutral ‘have’ to ‘moet’ (lit. must) in the last sentence. Another interesting shift is found when Gleb sings of Russia, which he calls ‘my beauty’ in the ST, while he sings of a ‘rode wimpel’ (lit. red flag) in the TT: in the TT, Gleb underlines not his personal connection to Russia itself, but his allegiance to the Bolshevist party line and the national interests. One of the most interesting translation shifts in the entire musical is found in the climax, when Gleb sings ‘Be careful what a dream may bring / A revolution is a simple thing’. This line was obviously also sung in ‘The Neva Flows’ and has already been translated as ‘Pas op niet elke droom is fijn’, as covered previously. At the end, however, the translator has elected to translate the line anew as ‘Veel dromen eindigen in pijn’ (lit. many dreams end in pain), making the warning Gleb gives Anya even more explicit, and emphasising the horror of what has happened and what he is about to do: moving against the revolution Gleb supports certainly brings pain, and Gleb is about to inflict it. Of course, Gleb’s seeming certainty does nothing to chance the ending of the musical. Gleb changes his mind, doesn’t finish the line ‘A revolution is a simple thing’ and falls to his knees before Anastasia. The manner in which Dutch Gleb unravels before her is perhaps more wondrous than it was for OBC Gleb: OBC Gleb has, as seen in the ST, always had glaring doubts and conflict, whereas Dutch Gleb seemed certain of his case, even if he knew about the tragic consequences his convictions could have. In his entire performance, René has seemed more collected than the OBC performance I have watched (and, all right, I’ll admit, I watched the bootleg. I’m a secondary school teacher and definitely cannot afford actual Broadway tickets, or a plane to the US. Either way, I’m not certain how representative for the entire OBC performance the boot I saw is). Whereas OBC Gleb immediately screams ‘And I am my father’s son’ back at Anya/Anastasia, Dutch Gleb is forceful and angry, but doesn’t quite scream and still leaves a moment to breathe between the lines. This Gleb again comes across as less emotional, less conflicted: why then, does he collapse so completely before her? And collapsing he does. Unlike in OBC Gleb, he doesn’t merely fall down on one knee, he collapses on both knees and decides to let Anya/Anastasia live. Even though the conflict between duty vs. morality was of course latent in the translation, it is perhaps more likely that this Gleb chooses not to shoot her out of love: he has portrayed his feelings for her rather certainly. The translation of the lyrics has shown that the duty vs. morality conflict was replaced to some extent by a conflict between duty vs. love. Dutch Gleb never doubted his duty, but also confidently sang about his affection of Anya. While the duty vs love conflict appears in the ST, OBC Gleb could be argued not to love Anya truly and suffer from a saviour complex. It’s harder to make such an argument for Dutch Gleb. Perhaps, then, Gleb’s revolution in this production is not morality, but indeed, as Dutch Gleb has sung, love.

[broadway-moodboards]

Gleb Vaganov | Anastasia

Be careful

what a dream may bring

a revolution

is a simple thing

[ao3feed-glenya]

by evangelistofstars

A revolution is a simple thing. Love, however, is not.

Words: 822, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Uncategorized

Characters: Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov Grand Duchess of Russia, Gleb Vaganov

Relationships: Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov Grand Duchess of Russia/Gleb Vaganov

Additional Tags: Unrequited Love, Pining, Angst, Guns, Emotional Roller Coaster, Canon Related, Canon Divergence, Angst and Tragedy, still/the neva flows (reprise) with some divergence, One-Sided Relationship, Sad Ending, Glenya, Lots of Angst

[captainsparklefingers]

[Duty]

So a couple of weeks ago, I got to see Anastasia on Broadway. It was AMAZING (I saw it in Hartford as well, and both shows were fantastic, but the little changes they made for Broadway just pulled everything together).

But I was left wondering how Anastasia survived in the first place. By making the musical slightly more accurate to history (a great call, by the way), it made me wonder how she could have escaped Ipatiev House, while still having witnessed the actual execution...

So in my attempt to understand how she could have escaped, I wrote a fanfic.

Officer Vaganov was not a man who hesitated in doing his duty. When the Great War had broken out, he had signed up and went to the front, doing his duty for Russia. When the revolution arrived, and it became clear that the old regime was falling, he took to the streets, again doing his duty for Russia. When the Bolsheviks took control of the government, ousting the weak Provisional Government that had held power and let the people down since February, he again took to the streets for Russia.

When he was assigned to Ipatiev House, to be one of the executioners of the Royal Family, he had agreed. It was an honor, and he would do his duty once more, for this new Russia.

The entire process was supposed to have been quick, and simple. The family was to be led to the basement, told of their fate, and shot. Yurovsky, as the commandant, would have the honor of killing the Tsar. The rest of the guard regiment, each of them assigned a target, would execute the rest of the family and their entourage, and that would be that.

It was supposed to have been a simple thing. And yet, these matters were rarely simple.

Many of the other men had arrived intoxicated, and nearly all of them had targeted the Tsar first, wanting to be the one to kill him, to take credit for officially ending the old regime.  It had quickly turned into chaos from there, with guards shooting wildly, over each others shoulders and into the walls and ceiling, filling the room with smoke and dust and screams.

When the dust cleared, it became evident that none of  the children had been killed, and that their bullets were proving ineffective. They would need to be dispatched directly, with bayonets and bullets to the head.

It was here that Vaganov hesitated. It was easy to do his duty when the entire process was supposed to be quick, when it was easy to ignore the fact that their targets were children, innocents paying simply for the crime of their birth and the sins of their parents.

He had a son that was of an age with the youngest children. He looked at the Tsarevitch, sitting terrified in his chair, and all he could see was Gleb. He heard the terrified cries of the girls, backed up in the corner, and all he could think was, what if that was my child? What have they done to deserve this?

Vaganov closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. God, forgive him. He must do his duty, for Russia, for the Revolution. If he did not, his family would be the ones facing the consequences.

He opened his eyes, tried not to think of his son, and moved towards the corner where the two younger girls were still cowering.

-----

It was the silence afterward that haunted Vaganov the most.

The whole operation had gone wrong, everything had been chaotic and messy, and yet, it was the silence that stayed with him. Not the echos of screams, the sobs of terrified children. Not the smell of smoke and blood.

They had all been alive twenty minutes ago, and now...

I did what I had to do. I did my duty.

It was not until they started moving the bodies onto stretchers that he noticed the job was incomplete.

The youngest daughter was still alive.

Badly injured and barely breathing, but still alive nontheless.  And suddenly Vaganov found himself forced to make a choice.

He could easily kill her. Shoot her in the head and end this quickly. He could alert one of the other guards, let them take care of her. Or...

...it was treason. It went against everything he had fought for, everything he stood against, to turn his back on the job that was given to him. And yet...she was just a girl. Only a little older than his son.

Her injuries were bad, and even if he helped her now, there was no guaranteeing she would live. Most of the other men were drunk and would not notice one body missing. It would be easy to convince Yurovsky of the logic in separating the bodies, making it harder for what they did to be discovered.

No matter what he did, he would be damned. Even if nobody discovered her survival, he would know what he did, and how he failed in the job he was given. But if he completed the job...

He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He saw the girl, terror in her eyes as her family was slaughtered around her. He saw his son. And Officer Vaganov knew what he must do.

-----

Later, when asked by the others, he would say that he saw the girl move, and finished the job. He buried her away from the road; separating one or two of the bodies would throw off the Whites that were moving in, and make it more difficult for them to discover what had been done. Yurovsky would scold him for not following his original orders and for not looting the body for valuables, but would commend him for the logic behind his actions. Nobody would ask any further questions, for they still needed to dispose of the others, and time was running short.

He had left by the side of the road, a short distance away from where the trucks had been waiting. She was still breathing when he'd left her, and the town was not too far away. There was no way that their actions had gone unnoticed...somebody would find her, and she would be alright.

Had he done his duty? A Romanov still lived...he had lied to his commanding officer...defied orders...but to do otherwise would have haunted him as sure as the silence in that basement.

Rifle by his side, Vaganov would go home, say he had done his duty, and that was that. He would not speak of the screams, the blood, the silence. He would never mention the girl he'd left breathing by the side of the road, hoping his defiance would not come back to haunt him later.

The guilt and shame would never leave him. And he never stopped wondering if the girl he'd left alive had stayed that way. If he'd done his duty to Russia by letting her live.

He hoped his son would never have to make a choice like the one he had. Or that, if he did, he would choose between what was expected of him and what was right...and that he would know which was which.

So I actually had no idea how to end this? It just kinda...petered out. Oh well.

Some notes!

-Yakov Yurovsky was the man in charge of the Romanov executions, and is credited with having killed Nicholas II. -The Whites were the White Army in the Russian Civil War, who were closing in on Yekaterinberg at the time of the Romanov executions. -The Imperial children survived the initial round of bullets during the execution, due to diamonds and gems sewn into their clothes. They had to be killed at close range as a result. -As the bodies were being loaded onto the truck, one of the daughters did sit up, scream, and cover her head. Which daughter this was, I don’t know, but the most likely candidates are Maria or Anastasia. Whichever it was, she was quickly killed by Yurovsky’s men. For the purposes of this story, the surviving daughter, Anastasia, did not sit up or scream, which saved her. -Two of the Imperial children were burned and buried separately from the rest of the family, and their remains were not discovered until 2007. They were Alexei and one of the Grand Duchesses. -The execution was....really bad. Some of the guards really were drunk, and a lot of them wanted to be the one to shoot Nicholas II, so it got chaotic fast...seriously, reading about the execution is...eugh. D:

I wanted to figure out how Anastasia could have survived the execution in the musical, since we get a lot of context clues that she was in the basement, she likely was shot and attacked with her family, and that somehow, she got away between the execution and the body disposal. A sympathetic guard, who discovered she was still alive after the execution, leaving her by the side of the road where she could be discovered by somebody who could help her... Having that guard be Gleb’s father, who was clearly haunted by what happened in Ipatiev House, just seemed natural. And also dramatic. And clearly, Gleb picked up both his sense of duty and his guilty conscious from somewhere...!

Anyway. I mostly wanted to satisfy my own curiosity. I might write more stuff later, because I would LOVE to explore Anya’s ten year trek across Russia during a period of chaos and political upheaval. We will see, friends!

[simpleduty-blog]

        GREETINGS, COMRADE! revolution is a simple thing! gone are the ways of old russia, wouldn’t you agree? general vaganov will stop at nothing to ensure a fair and compassionate russia for all, from russian to russian. and you, yes, even you have a place in this new order! for russia!

        like or reblog if you would like to take a place and put your faith in gleb vaganov from the musical anastasia. established 5/31/17. written by kourt.

[ao3feed-anastasia]

the neva flows a new wind blows and soon it will be spring (the leaves unfold the tsar lies cold a revolution is a simple thing)

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Whd6zcG by LittleJelly469 A rumor was going around in St. Petersburg (or Leningrad, as he was supposed to call it); one child of King Nicholas II, his first son the Prince Gavriil Nikolaevich Romanova in fact, was alive somewhere around the world. aka Gleb is Anastasia, Anya doesn't exist, gays are happy, homophobia doesn't exist Words: 11935, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: M/M Characters: Dimitri | Dmitry (Anastasia 1997 & Broadway), Gleb Vaganov, Vlad Popov, Lily Malevsky-Malevitch, Dowager Empress (Anastasia 1997 & Broadway), Original Male Character(s) Relationships: Dimitri | Dmitry/Gleb Vaganov, Lily Malevsky-Malevitch/Vlad Popov, Dimitri | Dmitry & Vlad Popov Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Sexual Content, No Period-Typical Homophobia, Gleb is Anastasia, Anya does not exist, Domestic Boyfriends, First Kiss, Getting Together, First Time, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, My First Smut, please be kind, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I wrote this in less than 2 days read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Whd6zcG

[walkingshcdow-a]

Permanent Starter Call: Gleb Vaganov

MUTUALS LIKE OR REBLOG this post if you are always down to plot or to receive a starter or ask from Gleb Vaganov from the 2017 musical, “Anastasia”. All my muses are flexible enough to have myriad AUs.

This is a permanent starter/plotting call. The purpose of this post is to gauge interest for the future. Non-Mutuals and Non-RPers do not interact!

[walkingshcdow-a]

Today is the anniversary of the most traumatic day of Gleb’s childhood the death of the Romanovs. I’m gonna dust off my Gleb muse for plotting and starters, so if you’re interested, give this post a like!

[walkingshcdow-a]

Leningrad, 1926:

And we mistook our joy for romance and let friendship bloom between our ribs where our hearts should have been. I was never yours and you were never mine. Still, we made those days feel filled with sunlight and purpose, as war ravaged the world around us. You don’t recover from love like that. 

Yours is the best friendship I have had the joy of knowing. I’m not sorry it’s over. We saved what we could from the wreckage of our ill-fated affair and found that the understanding, the compassion, the warmth, and humor were more valuable than all the wealth of the czars and just as precious as the ideals we fought so valiantly for.

I’d rather pour you a cup of tea as a friend than curl into your chest as a lover. You’d rather walk freely across the bridges of the Neva than be shackled to my arm. So we sit in tea houses and recount our days. Our eyes sparkle with mirth at the other’s joy. Our brows furrow in consternation at the other’s sorrow. When our hands brush, we no longer feel electricity, only the comfort of a wood-burning hearth. 

I hope someday someone will be worthy of you; you hope someday that I will make room in my heart for someone to truly love. All the while, we are friends. You know my flaws and I know your secrets. We keep them locked in secret smiles and eye rolls. You laugh at me without malice and I’ve never cried over you. Let people wonder what we are, what we have been. We know the truth: the world is as it should be. 

You see, we were destined to meet and fated to love, but never like that. 

[walkingshcdow-a]

@krxsny | Fake Married AU!

The train rattled along, Paris-bound, filled mostly with soldiers and diplomats en-route to the West. Gleb closed the compartment door for privacy. He swore the train rocked under his feet. Once the latch clicked, he turned to face the only other occupant of his train car. They’d spoken little today. When Liesel told him yesterday that Gorlinsky had assigned her to pose as his wife, not for Gleb’s comfort, but to spy on him and ensure that he killed the Romanov impostor. She insisted she wouldn’t turn him in. He trusted her. But, still, it hurt to look at her and know that, until the mission was complete, her paperwork all said Elisabeth Andreievna Vaganov. He looked at her before sitting on the bench beside her. He’d spent the last twenty-four hours across from her, pretending to read and sleep. Gently, he touched her knee.

“I’ve thought about it,” he told her, “and I’ve decided that I will not throw away years of trust because Gorlinsky is playing games. You deserve better. But I’ve also been thinking… If we are to carry out this mission - at least until we have a plan in Paris - we can’t go on fighting like this. We’re supposed to be newlyweds.”

He smiled a little.It hurt to remember that this would only be pretend, but Gleb knew he had no one but himself to blame. Liesel’s interests had seemed... elsewhere. He’d been lonely. He’d tried to befriend Anya, the little street-sweeper, and if his acts of friendship seemed to be more, and if that was why Liesel seemed so hurt-

Of course that wasn’t it. Her interests were elsewhere, even if his were not. Anya was a friend - an innocent girl in need of protection. Liesel was the woman he’d loved in silence for years; and she had risked all to be here with him. If she didn’t know he loved her for it - for all of it - or if she knew and wished not to acknowledge.... Well, then. He shut his eyes. 

“So what is our story, moya zhena? If anyone asks: how did we fall in love?”

[walkingshcdow-a]

@professor-of-predators | lyric starter | Gleb & Jane | “Very Strange” by Emilie Autumn

“Out in the hallway, who were you running from?” Gleb all but demanded, gripping both Professor Beckam’s arms to keep her from running farther and faster, beyond reach. “What’s happened?”

His only thoughts were that they’d been discovered and their mission was at its end. Fear, cold and vise-like, gripped his stomach. He didn’t fear often. And yet, the sight of Jane running through the hallways like death was coming for her chilled him deeply. 

[walkingshcdow-a]

@exitiumparit | lyric starter | Gleb & Grace | “Best of Wives & Best of Women”

“I have an early meeting out of town,” Gleb said, almost regretfully as he looked at his American contact. Despite their initial bad start, he’d come to respect, even like Grace Barnes. “It’s still dark outside - I might have a chance of sleep before the drive.” 

A faint smile touched his lips. Sliding into his coat, Gleb extended a hand for a handshake.

“Tonight was productive. And it was nice to see you... outside the office.” 

As they walked towards the exit, back onto the drizzly street, Gleb held the door for her. He wasn’t often inclined to such showy acts of chivalry with colleagues. He wished he could say it was because Grace Barnes was a woman. But she was a beautiful woman, an intelligent one, a capable one... He couldn’t believe how restrained and civil dinner had been after bickering at the office all morning and heated silent treatments all afternoon. 

“Did you call a car?”