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My Father
Personal and provocative insights into the character and fate of Gregory Rasputin, the most controversial figure in the court of Nicholas II and in pre-revolutionary Russia
157 pages, Hardcover
First published June 1, 1970
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131 people want to read
About the author
Maria Rasputin
4 books7 followersMaria Rasputina, born Matryona Grigorievna Rasputina (March 27, 1898 – September 27, 1977), was the daughter of the Russian mystic Grigori Rasputin and his wife Praskovia Fyodorovna Dubrovina. Only her mother and her father called her by the name “Maria”.
She emigrated to France after the October Revolution, and then to the U.S. There she worked as a dancer and then a tiger-trainer in a circus.
She emigrated to France after the October Revolution, and then to the U.S. There she worked as a dancer and then a tiger-trainer in a circus.
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Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
March 6, 2015
Rasputin's daughter was obviously trying to shine the most positive light on him. She does present some interesting and debatable facts about the last days of his life and his influence on the Tsar's family. Translated from the Russian, the language is often stilted and uses obscure language, but it was surprisingly readable. The background on Rasputin's relationship with the Tsar and has family appears to match what other books (and the movie Nicholas and Alexandra, whatever weight that has!) have presented. Those interested in the Romanovs will find plenty of scholarly and factual material in other sources, but this is certainly an interesting angle on Rasputin's family life that no one else could have written.
May 23, 2023
I'm so invested in this era, Rasputin and the family of the Tsar. I loved this book so much, and it was special and accurate, since non other than Rasputin's daughter has written this. I do hope I can find a copy of her other book as well.
May 21, 2020
A daughter's view of a man condemned by history - villain, saint or victim - more reading around the subject required me thinks
November 19, 2015
“Life seemed to him to be simple and beautiful provided that one soared above the thousand and one miserable little details of it that were of no importance” (p. 63).
If Maria Rasputin’s characterization of her father, Gregory, sounds overly simplistic or even romantic, this is, quite simply, because she sees (and once knew) the man in an entirely different light from that which historians have shed upon him. Already on p. 23, Ms. Rasputin points to “the innumerable books and films that have appeared against my father in the past fifteen years” and suggests that it’s the venality and general corruption rampant in and around the court of Czar Nicholas II and Czarina Alexandra Feodorovna that are the real engine of production where those same books and films are concerned. In other words (if Maria’s account is to be believed), Gregory Rasputin was a victim, not an agent.
It’s an undisputed fact that both Nicholas and Alexandra were beholden to Rasputin for the part he played in the health (and eventual survival) of the heir-apparent, the young Tsarevich. This last personage was a hemophiliac—a bleeder—and consequently, susceptible at every moment of his young life to spontaneous death. It should therefore come as no surprise to any parent that a man who appears, rather godlike, to hold the remedy in his hands time and time again would be deserving of an especially esteemed status in the family. If the family in question happens to be headed by the Emperor and Empress of Russia, so be it.
As just one such instance of Rasputin’s remarkable powers where the Tsarevich was concerned, I give you the following from pp. 71 -72: “(t)hat summer we returned to Pokrovskoie, while the Imperial family went to their Crimean residence at Spala. A few days before returning to the capital, at the end of the holidays, the Tsarevich, coming back from a sail, struck himself against the edge of the boat. The shock brought on internal hæmorrhage and a fainting-fit, from which the child regained consciousness only to be plunged into a torment of pain that drew agonizing cries from him. The crisis was terrible, and so prolonged as to arouse the keenest anxiety. Bulletins were issued, so that the public might be kept officially informed of the progress of the heir’s malady. The doctors gave up hope, and public prayer was ordered.
On the 10th of October the child was so ill that Princess Irene of Prussia hastened to the Empress, her sister. She went down to the drawing room and asked all present there to withdraw, as a fatal issue was expected from one minute to another. At that moment, on the 12th of October, at twenty minutes to twelve, the Tsarina, not knowing where to turn for help, sent a telegram personally to my father in Siberia. My father received the message on the following day, while he was at dinner. He at once rose from the table and knelt before the ikon of the Virgin of Kazan. One hour later, he telegraphed to Alexandra Feodorovna; ‘Fear nothing. The malady is not so dangerous as it seems to be. Do not let the doctors bother him too much.’ That telegram arrived at Spala on the 14th of October. Two days later, the heir was out of danger.”
Hocus-pocus? If so, then one might justifiably conjecture that this entire book is simply an apologia for the person of Gregory Rasputin, all of it minced and spiced in hocus-pocus. But far more likely—at least to this reader’s way of thinking—is Maria Rasputin’s bold statement on p. 73: “(a) perfect hurricane of conspiracy blew over the whole capital; and of all the cities of the world, St. Petersburg has ever been the one in which gossip, scandal and title-tattle held the greatest sway.” Given the astounding ascent of this mere moujik (and/or Klysti) from Siberia vis-à-vis the Imperial family and the Russian court, I think “gossip, scandal and title-tattle” are far more likely a part of his undoing than any hocus-pocus. And so, I for one am willing to take at face value her concluding statement on p. 119: “(c)haritable towards the humble and the unfortunate, trusting, indulgent, a good father and a good husband, Gregory Efimovitch loved and worked for his ideals, his Emperor, his country and his God.”
The copy of My Father I just read concludes with a long diary-like entry by Gregory Rasputin titled “My Thoughts and Meditations.” It is, quite simply, his account of a pilgrimage to the holy lands. I note that it contains a word or two in praise of Smyrna, a city on the coast of Asia Minor in the days when there was an Asia Minor. I only recently became acquainted with the all-too tragic history of this city—from all accounts, a minor paradise in the history of human civilization until it was sacked, ravaged and burned out of existence shortly after World War I by the Turks. Sic transit gloria mundi—as much for Smyrna as for Rasputin.
RRB
11/19/15
Brooklyn, NY
If Maria Rasputin’s characterization of her father, Gregory, sounds overly simplistic or even romantic, this is, quite simply, because she sees (and once knew) the man in an entirely different light from that which historians have shed upon him. Already on p. 23, Ms. Rasputin points to “the innumerable books and films that have appeared against my father in the past fifteen years” and suggests that it’s the venality and general corruption rampant in and around the court of Czar Nicholas II and Czarina Alexandra Feodorovna that are the real engine of production where those same books and films are concerned. In other words (if Maria’s account is to be believed), Gregory Rasputin was a victim, not an agent.
It’s an undisputed fact that both Nicholas and Alexandra were beholden to Rasputin for the part he played in the health (and eventual survival) of the heir-apparent, the young Tsarevich. This last personage was a hemophiliac—a bleeder—and consequently, susceptible at every moment of his young life to spontaneous death. It should therefore come as no surprise to any parent that a man who appears, rather godlike, to hold the remedy in his hands time and time again would be deserving of an especially esteemed status in the family. If the family in question happens to be headed by the Emperor and Empress of Russia, so be it.
As just one such instance of Rasputin’s remarkable powers where the Tsarevich was concerned, I give you the following from pp. 71 -72: “(t)hat summer we returned to Pokrovskoie, while the Imperial family went to their Crimean residence at Spala. A few days before returning to the capital, at the end of the holidays, the Tsarevich, coming back from a sail, struck himself against the edge of the boat. The shock brought on internal hæmorrhage and a fainting-fit, from which the child regained consciousness only to be plunged into a torment of pain that drew agonizing cries from him. The crisis was terrible, and so prolonged as to arouse the keenest anxiety. Bulletins were issued, so that the public might be kept officially informed of the progress of the heir’s malady. The doctors gave up hope, and public prayer was ordered.
On the 10th of October the child was so ill that Princess Irene of Prussia hastened to the Empress, her sister. She went down to the drawing room and asked all present there to withdraw, as a fatal issue was expected from one minute to another. At that moment, on the 12th of October, at twenty minutes to twelve, the Tsarina, not knowing where to turn for help, sent a telegram personally to my father in Siberia. My father received the message on the following day, while he was at dinner. He at once rose from the table and knelt before the ikon of the Virgin of Kazan. One hour later, he telegraphed to Alexandra Feodorovna; ‘Fear nothing. The malady is not so dangerous as it seems to be. Do not let the doctors bother him too much.’ That telegram arrived at Spala on the 14th of October. Two days later, the heir was out of danger.”
Hocus-pocus? If so, then one might justifiably conjecture that this entire book is simply an apologia for the person of Gregory Rasputin, all of it minced and spiced in hocus-pocus. But far more likely—at least to this reader’s way of thinking—is Maria Rasputin’s bold statement on p. 73: “(a) perfect hurricane of conspiracy blew over the whole capital; and of all the cities of the world, St. Petersburg has ever been the one in which gossip, scandal and title-tattle held the greatest sway.” Given the astounding ascent of this mere moujik (and/or Klysti) from Siberia vis-à-vis the Imperial family and the Russian court, I think “gossip, scandal and title-tattle” are far more likely a part of his undoing than any hocus-pocus. And so, I for one am willing to take at face value her concluding statement on p. 119: “(c)haritable towards the humble and the unfortunate, trusting, indulgent, a good father and a good husband, Gregory Efimovitch loved and worked for his ideals, his Emperor, his country and his God.”
The copy of My Father I just read concludes with a long diary-like entry by Gregory Rasputin titled “My Thoughts and Meditations.” It is, quite simply, his account of a pilgrimage to the holy lands. I note that it contains a word or two in praise of Smyrna, a city on the coast of Asia Minor in the days when there was an Asia Minor. I only recently became acquainted with the all-too tragic history of this city—from all accounts, a minor paradise in the history of human civilization until it was sacked, ravaged and burned out of existence shortly after World War I by the Turks. Sic transit gloria mundi—as much for Smyrna as for Rasputin.
RRB
11/19/15
Brooklyn, NY
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July 11, 2013Not a book I can give a rating to!
A little history lesson: Gregory Rasputin was a Siberian peasant who, after being introduced to the Tsar and Tsarina of Russia in the early part of the twentieth century, somehow appears to have had a positive impact on the haemophilia of their son and heir. There were all sorts of rumours going around about him and his relationship to the Romanovs and the way he behaved in St Petersburg, and he was eventually assassinated. This book is more than a hundred pages of his daughter reminiscing about her father, and about 30 - which I didn't read - of Rasputin's own reflections on holy places he's visited.
I recently helped my sister to move house, and one of my jobs was unpacking her books. In doing so I discovered that she had appropriated a number of books that belonged to me but that I'd left at home... anyway. I also discovered this book on her shelf, and I was astounded for a few reasons: that the book exists at all; that she had bothered to nab it (I was reminded that she had studied the Russian Revolution at school)... and that it had belonged to our paternal grandfather. This is somewhat surprising because although not a Communist, our Grandpa was definitely an old-school union man, voted Labor all this life, detested the Vietnam War (wasn't it awkward when Dad enlisted and went over?)... etc. So why he had a book aimed at salvaging Gregory Rasputin's reputation is beyond my ken.
This book is part vindication of Rasputin as a largely good man, part protest at his treatment while alive and his reputation after death, and part somewhat dubious insight into life in Petersburg in the lead up to, and early part of, World War 1. Did I learn anything that I am willing to treat with little scepticism? Yes: Maria Rasputin's explanation of the fact that her father was not a monk, but was rather a Starets has no need to be distorted and was genuinely helpful in my thinking about him. So too is the fact that Maria and her sister lived with Rasputin for most of the time he was in Petersburg! - this is not something that I have ever seen discussed, and although obviously a father is perfectly capable of being evil and not showing it to his daughters, it's still an interesting addition to his character. Like I said, Maria (and I'll keep referring to her by her first name because 'Rasputin' would be just too confusing) is clearly aiming to redeem her father's name, so she stresses that their living room/reception area door was very rarely closed - thus clearly refuting the idea that, at home at least, Rasputin was up to no good and holding orgies (one of the big accusations against him). She doesn't pretend he was a saint - in fact, she protests against that idea vigorously - and admits that he took up drinking... but blames that on the experience of Petersburg itself, and bad influences, and the need to get just a little bit of downtime.
There's a whole lot that is pure propaganda. And I can understand that; it can't have been a comfortable position to be in, as the daughter of such a notorious man. Especially if he had been a loving father, and all the calumny just felt so alien and unlike the man you knew. I was fascinated to read that Maria accepted - or at least wrote that she accepted - the supernatural elements of Rasputin's story: that he was clairvoyant, enabled by a special connection to God that also enabled him to have special healing powers... I hadn't expected that aspect.
One problem, for me: I couldn't help but here Tom Baker's voice every time Rasputin spoke. That was distracting.
A little history lesson: Gregory Rasputin was a Siberian peasant who, after being introduced to the Tsar and Tsarina of Russia in the early part of the twentieth century, somehow appears to have had a positive impact on the haemophilia of their son and heir. There were all sorts of rumours going around about him and his relationship to the Romanovs and the way he behaved in St Petersburg, and he was eventually assassinated. This book is more than a hundred pages of his daughter reminiscing about her father, and about 30 - which I didn't read - of Rasputin's own reflections on holy places he's visited.
I recently helped my sister to move house, and one of my jobs was unpacking her books. In doing so I discovered that she had appropriated a number of books that belonged to me but that I'd left at home... anyway. I also discovered this book on her shelf, and I was astounded for a few reasons: that the book exists at all; that she had bothered to nab it (I was reminded that she had studied the Russian Revolution at school)... and that it had belonged to our paternal grandfather. This is somewhat surprising because although not a Communist, our Grandpa was definitely an old-school union man, voted Labor all this life, detested the Vietnam War (wasn't it awkward when Dad enlisted and went over?)... etc. So why he had a book aimed at salvaging Gregory Rasputin's reputation is beyond my ken.
This book is part vindication of Rasputin as a largely good man, part protest at his treatment while alive and his reputation after death, and part somewhat dubious insight into life in Petersburg in the lead up to, and early part of, World War 1. Did I learn anything that I am willing to treat with little scepticism? Yes: Maria Rasputin's explanation of the fact that her father was not a monk, but was rather a Starets has no need to be distorted and was genuinely helpful in my thinking about him. So too is the fact that Maria and her sister lived with Rasputin for most of the time he was in Petersburg! - this is not something that I have ever seen discussed, and although obviously a father is perfectly capable of being evil and not showing it to his daughters, it's still an interesting addition to his character. Like I said, Maria (and I'll keep referring to her by her first name because 'Rasputin' would be just too confusing) is clearly aiming to redeem her father's name, so she stresses that their living room/reception area door was very rarely closed - thus clearly refuting the idea that, at home at least, Rasputin was up to no good and holding orgies (one of the big accusations against him). She doesn't pretend he was a saint - in fact, she protests against that idea vigorously - and admits that he took up drinking... but blames that on the experience of Petersburg itself, and bad influences, and the need to get just a little bit of downtime.
There's a whole lot that is pure propaganda. And I can understand that; it can't have been a comfortable position to be in, as the daughter of such a notorious man. Especially if he had been a loving father, and all the calumny just felt so alien and unlike the man you knew. I was fascinated to read that Maria accepted - or at least wrote that she accepted - the supernatural elements of Rasputin's story: that he was clairvoyant, enabled by a special connection to God that also enabled him to have special healing powers... I hadn't expected that aspect.
One problem, for me: I couldn't help but here Tom Baker's voice every time Rasputin spoke. That was distracting.
May 21, 2012
A fascinating perspective on Rasputin, written by his daughter.
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews