A few years ago I noticed something odd about myself. I had, for no apparent reason become fond of large civil engineering projects. A little too fond. I just love bridges, new roads, rail projects, anything like that.
Not, I must but shouldn’t have to add, in a sexual way.
And so it pains me that an event that I would normally celebrate has become an excuse for outbreaks of stupidity that excel even the normal silly season nonsense that fills the media.
And this idiocy comes from Russia, where they’re very very good at stupidity.
They’ve opened a new metro station in Moscow. Nothing stupid there, you say. That’s because because you’re stupid.
The station in question is called Dostoevskaya, after that cheery chap Fyodor Dostoevsky. He may seem like an odd choice for honouring by the public transport system, but it’s not as bad as Dublin’s Beckett-themed bus stops.
Of course the Russians, being a very thorough people, haven’t just named the station after him. Oh no, they’ve also gone and decorated the whole building with murals depicting scenes from his work. Which isn’t a particularly bright thing to do.
We get the axe murder scene from Crime and Punishment. We get shadowy characters flitting through murky scenes. There’s probably a mural depicting angst. And in case anyone doesn’t get the message there’s a giant portrait of the great man himself looking as miserable as only an existential Russian can.
So all things considered, Dostoevskaya Station is not a pleasant place to be. But you have to put these things in context. And the context here is Putin’s Russia, so by comparison the station may as well be Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.
The only problem with the whole thing is that the metro station seems to be making people stupid. Even people who haven’t gone there. The very idea of the place is turning brains across the world to mush.
The telegraph reports unnamed psychologists warning of Dostoevskaya’s “negative energy”. Now you can see why any scientist resorting to that kind of nonsense would want to remain anonymous, but the Telegraph seem happy to ignore decades of progress by suicidologists and have a good old fashioned worry about people killing themselves because of the murals.
Apparently the drama in these scenes will attract unbalanced people who will flock to Dostoevskaya to throw themselves under trains. If I were an unnamed psychologist right now I’d be more worried about “negative intelligence.”
Underground stations in any city are a magnet to suicides, with or without the existentialism. But the name of a station, or its murals, will attract nobody. People genuinely seeking death will go to the nearest station, not the most apposite one. The only suicides tempted by Dostoevskaya will be cloak wearing undergraduate authors of dubious poetry who will, at the last moment, pull themselves back from the brink. They aren’t really looking to die, they’re looking to impress some pale girl in their university dramatic society.
‘There very idea of the place is turning brains across the world to mush.’ Hmmmmmm … :(
You see what I mean?
It seems that the station is actually located in the area in which he used to live and follows the tradition of the Pushkinskaya and Chekovskaya stations, which I would assume to be as dark in tone as Dostoevskaya.
The problem is that there aren’t many Russian or Muscovite authors of international repute known for writing happy books. I’m sure that if A A Milne had actually been Aleksandr Andreyevich Milnakov, then Milnaskaya would be decorated with pictures from The House at Poohgrad Corner.
Yes, and Eeyore would be an optimist, Piglet would temporarily be Prime Minister before returning to the president, and Christopher Robin would have been purged long ago.
Oddly enough, just foundthis article about Russian mass transport. If you scroll about halfway down you will see an unmistakable likeness of Squirrel Nutkinski. Goes without saying that he’s a red squirrel.
I prefer our Kafka-themed public transport.