Living My Life

Volume 2, Chapter 56
Living My Life by Emma Goldman Volume two New York: Alfred A Knopf Inc., 1931. Chapter 56 Friends had unearthed a lovely spot in Saint-Tropez, an ancient, picturesque fishing-village in the south of France. An enchanted place it was: a little villa of three rooms from which one caught a view of the snow-covered Maritime Alps, with a garden of magnificent roses, pink and red geraniums, fruit-trees, and a large vineyard, all for fifteen dollars a month. Here I regained something of my old zest for life, and faith in my ability to overcome the hardships the future might hold. I divided my time between my writing-desk and my ménage. I even found time to learn to swim. I prepared the meals on a quaint, red-bricked Provençal stove in which only charcoal could be used. Many friends from America and other parts of the world found their way to my new home in Saint-Tropez. Georgette Le... (From : Anarchy Archives.)

Volume 2, Chapter 55
Living My Life by Emma Goldman Volume two New York: Alfred A Knopf Inc.,1931. Chapter 55 One is certain to be disappointed in American reporters, yet never in the London weather during autumn or winter. It was foggy and drizzling when I arrived in September, and it did not let up until May. Unlike my visit in 1900, when I lived in a basement, my quarters this time were on the heights: a bedroom on the third floor in the house of my old friend Doris Zhook. I even had the luxury of a gas-stove, which I kept going all day. The monster fog mocked my futile attempts to keep the chill out of my old bones, even when I tried to snatch a little cheer from an occasional ray of sunlight. Doris and the other comrades insisted that it was "not really cold." American steam-heated apartments had spoiled me for the "mild British climate," they said. They would not have their homes centrally heated if they could. Fire-pl... (From : Anarchy Archives.)

Volume 2, Chapter 54
Living My Life by Emma Goldman Volume two New York: Alfred A Knopf Inc., 1931. Chapter 54 At the German border I fell right into the loving arms of two stalwart Prussian officials whose Kaiser Wilhelm mustaches had lost nothing of pride by the ignominious retreat of their namesake. Quickly they led me into a private office. I was confronted with a dossier comprising all the events of my life, almost from my cradle days, whereupon they began grilling me for an hour. I congratulated them on their German thoroughness in having kept such a complete record that there was nothing I could add. What were my intentions in Germany? Honorable, of course: to find a millionaire old bachelor in search of a handsome young wife. At the expiration of my visa I would proceed to Czechoslovakia on the same quest. "Ein verflixtes Frauenzimmer" they roared, and after a further exchange of compliment... (From : Anarchy Archives.)

Volume 2, Chapter 53
Living My Life by Emma Goldman Volume two New York: Alfred A Knopf Inc.,1931. Chapter 53 Riga! Jostling crowds at the station, strange speech, laughter, and glaring lights. It was bewildering and it aggravated my feverish condition from the bad cold I had contracted on the way. We planned to go to our comrade Tsvetkov, who was employed in the Soviet transport department. He and his lovely wife Maryussa had been our close friends in the early Petrograd days. Little Maryussa, delicate as a lily, together with Tsvetkov and others, had guarded Petrograd against General Yudenich. Rifle over shoulder, brave Maryussa had been prepared to lay down her life for the Revolution. Later they had endured untold privation and hardships, which undermined Maryussa's health, and finally she succumbed to typhus. Both she and Tsvetkov were of sterling quality. He remained unchanged in his ideas, notwithstandi... (From : Anarchy Archives.)

Volume 2, Chapter 52, Part E
Living My Life by Emma Goldman Volume Two New York: Alfred A Knopf Inc., 1931. Chapter 52, Continued, pp. 899-927. The Nep flourished, and the inspired, flocking to the holy grail, were assured that the proletariat was in full control and that money was no more needed in Soviet Russia because the workers had free access to the best the land produced. A large contingent of the devout believers from America had confidingly turned over to the reception committee on the border all their possessions. In Moscow they were packed like sardines in common quarters, given a small ration of bread and soup, and left to their fate. Within a month two children of the group died of undernourishment and infection. The men became despondent, the women ill, one of them going insane from anxiety about her children and the shock of the conditions she had found in Russia. Our friend, little Bobby, his hopes alr... (From : Anarchy Archives.)

Living My Life by Emma Goldman Volume two New York: Alfred A Knopf Inc.,1931. Chapter 42 Helena and our young folks in Rochester always brought me back to that city even when I did not have to lecture there. This year there were additional reasons for visiting my hometown: an opportunity to speak on the war, and the great family event of David Hochstein's first concert with the local symphony orchestra. The Victoria Theater had been secured for my lecture by an anarchist workman known as Dashuta. An idealist of the best type, he had paid out of his meager savings the entire expense of the meeting and he had used all his leisure to make the lecture widely known. His help meant infinitely more to me than the "security for life" offered by the... (From : Anarchy Archives.)

Living My Life by Emma Goldman Volume Two New York: Alfred A Knopf Inc.,1931. Chapter 52, Continued, pp. 851-899. We were to leave for Petrograd the next day to report to the Museum of the Revolution, but Louise begged us to remain for the funeral. She felt lonely and deserted, and we were the only friends she had, she implored. Now that Jack was gone, she had ceased to interest the Bolsheviki. She had already been made to feel that, she said. Public funerals had always been an abomination to me; nevertheless I promised to remain to be near her and to help her over the painful ordeal. I told Louise that Sasha might also attend if he could prevail upon the other members of the expedition to postpone their departure for a day. Louise gave me ... (From : Anarchy Archives.)

Living My Life by Emma Goldman Volume one New York: Alfred A Knopf Inc., 1931. Chapter 37 May 18, the day of Sasha's resurrection, remained graven on my heart, although my yearly tours had always prevented my being with him on the anniversary of his release. In a spiritual sense, however, neither space nor time could separate me from Sasha or make me forget the day I had longed and worked for throughout the years of his imprisonment. On May 18 this year a telegram from him found me in Los Angeles. It filled me with great joy, for it brought the news that he had determined to begin his prison memoirs. I had often urged him to write them, believing that if he could re-create his prison life on paper, it might help him to get rid of the phanto... (From : Anarchy Archives.)

Living My Life by Emma Goldman Volume one New York: Alfred A Knopf Inc., 1931. Chapter 7 At the International Socialist Congress held in Paris in 1889 the decision had been made to turn the first of May into a world-wide holiday of labor. The idea caught the imagination of the progressive workers in every land. The birth of spring was to mark the reawakening of the masses to new efforts for emancipation. In this year, 1891, the decision of the Congress was to find wide application. On the first of May the toilers were to lay down their tools, stop their machines, leave the factories and mines. In festive attire they were to demonstrate with their banners, marching to the inspiring strains of revolutionary music and song. Everywhere meetings... (From : Anarchy Archives.)

Living My Life by Emma Goldman Volume One New York: Alfred A Knopf Inc.,1931. Chapter 13 The days and weeks that followed my release were like a nightmare. I needed quiet, peace, and privacy after my prison experience, but I was surrounded by people, and there were meetings nearly every evening. I lived in a daze: everything around me seemed incongruous and unreal. My thoughts continued in captivity; my fellow convicts haunted my waking and sleeping hours, and the prison noises kept ringing in my ears. The command "Close!" followed by the crash of iron doors and the clank-clank of the chains, pursued me when I faced an audience. The strangest experience I had was at the meeting arranged to welcome me on my release. It took place in the Thal... (From : Anarchy Archives.)