SMETANA AND THE BEETLES: A FAIRY TALE FOR ADULTS

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Document Number (FOIA) /ESDN (CREST): 
CIA-RDP88-01350R000200680011-8
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RIFPUB
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K
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7
Document Creation Date: 
December 16, 2016
Document Release Date: 
November 4, 2004
Sequence Number: 
11
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Publication Date: 
December 1, 1967
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MAGAZINE
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, . 'P_ LEVtnE l #S4 f) A\bER1 . SrTgL%r'c dETt-c C.z. A. .. -- ~c+tiw (STAuna..) SMETANA AND THE BEETLES : A. Fairy Tale for Adults /WENTY LETTERS TO A FRIEND. By Svetlana Alliluyeva. New York: Harper & Row. 246 pp. $5.95. Reviewed by Albert E. Kahn Drawings by David Levine PREFATORY NOTE Lest there be any confusion between the Smetana of this fairy tale and any living person, it should be pointed out that "Smetana" in Russian (and in Yiddish) means "sour cream." It is also of interest that the two best known works of the celebrated composer, Smetana, are The Bartered Bridp and My Country. A.E.K. Once upon a time there was a Princess Whose name was Smetana. She lived in the realm of Marxdom. Her father was a Wicked Man. He kept her in a Castle named after him; It was called the Gremlin. The Castle was surrounded by a rusty Iron Curtain And a Moat full of Krokodiles and Vodka. Friendly Letters That began, '"My Darling Gremlinskaya ..." He gave her a Sailor Suit and wrote her (in her native dialectic). Once he sang Happy Birthday to her Bedtime Dogmas. And he read her Grim Fairy Tales and He hated Dogs and Decolletage. He frowned at Modern Art, Be-bop and even Little Bo-Peep. He never smiled, except at Smetana. He had a bodyguard of Dour Dwarfs Called the Cult of Personality Service, Or.COPS for short. Gremlin was mean to his Subjects. He was suspicious of Foes and Especially Friends. He fumed and feuded with a Far-Off Place Widely publicized as Freeland Inc. But he was kind-)p Smetana. He carried her dt9und, even as a Big Girl. .At night she sat on his Knee Gremlin was a Dour Dictator. He never played Golf. Approd For Release 2005/01/13 Cl4WRAW W ;01350R0002006c Gremlin wanted to keep his little Castle-Keeper And brooded when she grew up and Up and UP. One day Smetana meta Prince Charminsky Who was very Cosmopolitan. He showed her the film "Snow White' and the Seven Dwarfs" And other Hollywood Pixie-Flix. Gremlin's COPS had bugged the Projection Room. He gave Smetana two slaps and the Prince eleven years. To get Smetana's mind on Other Things,. Gremlin gave her a Charge Account At Gloom Department Store; Made her a student at Gremlingrad U.; Let her cook, play the Harp and darn It proved a flop. He found her marching with the Gremlin Guard. "Nyet! Nyet! NYET!" he stormed. answered back. Day!" , There came a day when Gremlin Passed His COPS and Krokadiles skipped town And tried to cover up Their Tracks. Sac. A,. o i . Z. r.-Tac,a . Ai' b T'K E3 1 765 T.N Etrry=rcTT# RS To RAMPARTS 71 Approved For el,ase 2~.0t5/01/133 ? CIA-RbDP88-01~350RO The Jig was tip. ~ hey sar , 'Sorry, metana, u The news made the front page in the Gremlin's Days are Gonna." Times And two lines in Pravda. The Castle was For Rent. New Tenants took the place, fumigated it, And opened up some Shutters. People punched peep-holes in the rusty Iron Curtain. Smetana was told her lease was up. She found a pad in a Gingerbread Apartment House Among Commoners and Volga Folk. No one called her "Princess" any more. Things began booming in Marxgrad (Formerly Gremlingrad). ~ d c 1z Zd 31 L be $ Cant went up. Hopes and Hi-Rises rose. .Taxes and billboards of Gremlin's mug came down, And a knock on the door meant.only Groceries. Folks chewed the Fat and danced the Frug. There it was called the Thaw. But what was sweet for Ivan was sour for Smetana. People lambasted her Poppachka. She could not find a Satisfying Job or her Identity. She tried her hand at the Writing Game And did a piece called Life with Father in the Gremlin. It was turned down cold and That really burned her. She decided to go see Coseegan and to mesh with Bresh, Two fellows who had Access to Publishers. It's no snap for a retired Princess To find.Peace, Privacy and her Real Self. Such, alas, was Smetana's Post-Gremlin Malady. So she consulted a Mental Magician With a degree from the Tajmahal. He put her on his Magic Couch. "Your problem is," he said, "you've become State Property. Native Cook's Tour. Peasants played Moonlight on the Ganges, Multiplied magically in Model Huts, And fed their kids on Flowers and Rain-Water Pop. You need a Change. Visit my homeland of sunny Midlindia. There's a three-week Excursion Rate. One thing you must be sure to do. Consult the Beetles while you're there. I've heard about their Wondrous Powers and Therapeutic Works.!' "And who are they, Kind Sir?" asked she. "Free Spirits," he said, "who make Music, Merry and Mazuma. They're practicing Eastern methods with Maestro Shangri-La. They'll help you find your True Ego. Their Rhythms should release your Inhibitions. Instead of Nyet! Nyet! Nyet! They prescribe Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" Smetana flew by Airflop to Midlindia, Taking along her Folding Crown and Treasured Manuscript. The strange land seemed like Paradise to her. She loved the native cooking and took a But nowhere could Smetana find the Beetles, And this bugged her. Vainly she searched in crooked streets among bizarre bazaars. And combed the Yellow Pages and Ads for Lost and Found. One day she thet a Fakir teaching a Cobra the Flute. "That's charming music, Sir," she said. "Are?you perchance a Beetle?" "So sari, Sahiba," said he. "But let me Turn On. Ah yes, I see a vision of Free Tourist Information At the Embassy of Freeland Inc. Won't you join me in some Yoga?" Next day Smetana visited the Embassy . of Freeland Inc. "I seek the Beetles, Sir," she told the guy at the Door. "Would you be One of Them?" "Only when in disguise," he winked.. "I'm Joe, the Clerk-In-Apt ndance. Just call me CIA." "And I'm Princess Smetana, Sir," she -said. "Gremlin's Only Heir." Approved For Release 2005/01/13 CIA-RDP88-01.350R000200680011-8 The Jig was Up. Approved For R~ The news made the front page in the Times And two lines in Pravda. The Castle was For Rent. New Tenants took the place, fumigated it, And opened up some Shutters. People punched peep-holes in the rusty Iron Curtain. Smetana was told her lease was up. She found a pad in a Gingerbread Apartment House Among Commoners and Volga Folk. No one called her "Princess" any more. Things began booming in Marxgrad (Formerly Gremlingrad). Sputnik and stocks on the Borscht went up. Hopes and Hi-Rises rose. Taxes and billboards of Gremlin's mug came down, And a knock on the door meant only Groceries. Folks chewed the Fat and danced the Frug. There it was called the Thaw. But what was sweet for Ivan was sour for Smetana. People lambasted her Poppachka. She could not find a Satisfying Job or her Identity. She tried her hand at the Writing Game And did a piece called Life with Father in the Gremlin. It was turned down cold and That really burned her. She decided to go see Coseegan and to mesh with Bresh, Two fellows who had Access to Publishers. 72 RAMPARTS IMw; 5f .J3srr ?eR61R88-013P0R00 Gremlin's Days are Gonna." It's no snap for a retired Princess To find Peace, Privacy and her Real Self. Such, alas, was Smetana's Post-Gremlin Malady. So she consulted a Mental Magician With a degree from the TaJmahal. He put her on his Magic Couch. "Your problem is," he said, "you've become State Property. You need a Change. Visit my homeland of sunny Midlindia. There's a three-week Excursion Rate. One thing you must be sure to do. Consult the Beetles while you're there. I've heard about their Wondrous Powers and Therapeutic Works." "And who are they, Kind Sir?" asked she. "Free Spirits," he said, "who make Music, Merry and Mazuma. They're practicing Eastern methods with Maestro Shangri-La. They'll help you find your True Ego. Their Rhythms should release your Inhibitions. Instead of Nyet! Nyet! Nyet! They prescribe Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" Smetana flew by Airfiop to Midlindia, Taking along her Folding Crown and Treasured Manuscript. The strange land seemed like Paradise to her. She loved the native cooking and took a Native Cook's .Tour. Peasants played Moonlight on the Ganges, Multiplied magically in Model Huts, And fed their kids on Flowers and Rain-Water Pop. But nowhere could Smetana find the Beetles, And this bugged her. Vainly she searched in crooked streets among bizarre bazaars. And combed the Yellow Pages and Ads for Lost and Found. One day she diet a Fakir teaching a Cobra the Flute. "That's charming music, Sir," she said. "Are you perchance a Beetle?" "So sari, Sahiba," said he. "But let me Turn On. Ah yes, I see a vision of Free Tourist Information At the Embassy of Freeland Inc. Won't you join me in some Yoga?" Next day Smetana visited the Embassy of Freeland Inc. "I seek the Beetles, Sir," she told the guy at the Door. "Would you be One of Them?" "Only when in disguise," he winked.. "I'm Joe, the Clerk-In-Attendance. Just call me CIA." "And I'm Princess Smetana, Sir," she said. "Gremlin's Only Heir." Approved For. Release 2005/01/13 : CIA-RDP88-0135OR000200680011-8 Ct ntinued He chuckled. "TeligoorW4l For Rel Marines, Sister." "By happenstance," said she, "I've my Memoirs in my Purse. The Family Album and Poppa's Letters, too." He took a hurried look. "Jumping Jehoshaphat!" he gasped. "Welcome, Princess! You've come to just the Place. We've all the Beetle data-wingspan, hair length, the works. Won't you step into our Parlor?" You can guess what happened then. Thus Princess Smetana vanished from the Scene. Gremlin's Kid was in the clutches of CIA! t He flew her in his Private U-2 to Neutralia, Where he said the Beetles were skiing. There he stashed her away in an Alpine Hideout. Marxdom was mystified and miffed; Their Miffing Persons Bureau sent out an Urgent Flash. Freeland Inc. swore they hadn't kidnapped her And offered Foreign Aid. Every Mob prepared its Alibi.. Newsmen and Publishers, posing as Mountain Guides, Searched for her among the peaks with Contracts in their Rucksacks. Some Game of Jekyll and Hyde and Seek! Lights burned late those nights in the offices of Freeland Inc. / Joe CIA, after all, was their Errand Boy; And he'd been involved in Scrapes like this before. a'T ZOO8? Y1lq! 'Sedlir4dRUPld8W03~ an ex-Diplomatic Wizard called Mr. X because that was not his name. He had a Nasty Cold-War Cold. "Princess Smetana's on the lam with CIA!" they cried. "Contact them! And call us collect." Mr. X consulted his Good Neighbor Policy And summoned his good neighbor, Mr. Z, An Aging Alchemist and Counselor-at-Law Who knew his Way Around. The Wizard and the Alchemist jetted to Neutralia. When they saw Smetana yodeling, They flipped their Lids. "Some Princess!" said Mr. X. "A beaut," said Mr. Z. "Are you Beetles, Sir?" she asked. "CIA said I'd find them here." "Not quite, Your Highness," said Mr. X. "We represent Freeland Inc. But we offer all the features of the Beetles. Free Speech, Free Thought, Free Enterprise . They're Bosom Pals of ours. We hear their music all the time." "You bet," said Mr. Z. Mr. X described the land of Freeland Inc. There was, he gently said, no Gremlin there, Only a Fairy Grandfather in a White Ranch House, Who loved Beagles, Bugles and Bagels, Babies, Barbecues and Brotherhood. Everyone there was Happy or Hippy or Both. Flower Children danced in the Streets, And there were fireworks even in the Ghettos. "You'll find Peace and Privacy," said Mr. X. "Your Own Identity." "And will I surely find the Beetles there?" Smetana asked. "That's part of the Contract," said Mr. Z. "I'm a Gypsy now," Smetana told her Visitors. "I'd like a Camping Car and Gypsy Dog. Do you have that breed in Freeland Inc.?" "Yes, ma'am!" said Mr. Z. Whatever else her Memoirs earned, she said, Could go to charity for Homeless Elves . and Aged Dwarfs. "Hold on!" said Mr. Z. RAMPARTS ? 73 Approved.For Release 2005/01/13 : CIA-RDP88-0135OR000200680011-8 money in the West Q To gas the Car and fee"der$Xd For He opened up his Sample Kit, Took out an Entrance Course to Free Society, - And counseled her on Contract Law and Bank Accounts. "Your Royalty must think of royalties," he said. "It's a Matter of Principal, you see. Just follow the Red-White-and-Blue Rainbow, There's a Pot of Gold at the end." Heading home, Mr. Z pondered his new client's Potentialities. "She'll make a Mint," he mused. "To guard it from the Evil Monster, Tax, We'll form a foreign Treasure Trust- Kopeks Unlimited. Some Public Relations firm can publicize her Private Life. And, by the buy, she'll need a Publisher. A firm of firm repute. Then Famous Publishers should do. They are my clients, too." Thus Princess Smetana came to Freeland Inc. Consider the Historic Implications: She was the last of the Gremlin Line; There'd been this Rumble between his gang and Freeland Inc.'s; And now she'd come over to their Territory. They pulled out All the Stops, Gave her a Ticker Tape Parade and the Keys to Freedom City, And proclaimed a National Holiday. She took it like a True Princess. "Hi Folks!" she cried, as if just One of Them, Gaily waving her Crown and Memoirs. The crowd went Wild. "I hope my book will enrich your Western Literature ..." :eleelef le}~p' `IADP8e$-01 The pri- clothbound will be $5.95, still less i. aperback." It was sure to be a Sell-Out. Next day Smetana held court with the Press, Flanked by her RR Men and Private 1/AI.AJ. i, 11 She stated why she'd come to Freeland Inc. "I'm Non-Political, of course; no comment on Napalm. But Marxdom's not for me. I like your Way of Life and Right to Riot. To sum it up, I've seen The Light." In Gremlin Castle, she explained, the Lights had never worked; So she had never noticed that people Disappeared. Now, after fifteen years, the truth had Dawned on her. "Especially," she said, "I've come to meet the Beetles." "But Madame, they're flying over Marxdom," a newsman said. "They may.receive the new Free-Enter- Prize." "Alas!" she cried. "Cool it, Princess," said CIA. "Our man in Marxdom will signal them you're Here." Reporters are tough and know, you know, the Score. But Princess Smetana really Got to Them. Tears glinted in more than one Bloodshot Eye; It showed that blood will tell. They wrote, with unabashed Reverence and unabridged Roget, About her Saucy Smile and Sweet Simplicity, Her Gracious Girlish Wholesome Pure Etcetera. "Her simple words," reported one, "have the Force Of the trumpets of Jericho." Now that was really a blast. "A Terribly Important Book," Famous Publishers told the Press.. "It's History, Highclass Literature and . Inside Stuff. We're sure you?'1l agree, since you're publishing it too." .At Famous Headquarters, a Conference got Underway. "We estimate-with all the rights- it's worth ten grand a page. Roughly Three Million Bucks." "Gentlemen-a Toast! To the Princess's Health and Wealth! Long may she Reign!" "But can she Write?" a junior editor piped up. Approved For Release 2005/01/13 : CIA-RDP88-01350R000200680011-8 What a Hell of a Questippproved For ~elease 2005, Smetana's Book came out. So did some Facts of Life: She was no go-go Gogol; her Diary, no Zhivago-go. And Critics can be Critical, Even of Regal Revelations. Smetana did more research on her True Identity. "I am no writer," she announced, "and never hope to be. Yesterday I thought I was, but that was Yesterday. Today I only seek the Beetles. My Memoirs? Just some Pen-Pal Notes." A famous editor implored, "Go Easy now, Princess!" As if that weren't Grief Enough, Pirates plundered her Royal Purple Prose. In Marxdom, she'd complained of Censorship; Her problem now was too much Freedom of the Press. Her publishers and Mr. Z rushed up their Legal Guns To save her Treasure from the Buccaneers. Meanwhile Smetana anxiously sought the Beetles and Herself With Blue Bloodhounds and Private Eyes In a plush-lush suburb called Limbo. "Pray tell," she asked at every Golf Course Green, "Have the Beetles yet returned?" "We've offered them Honorary Memberships," the golfers said. "They'll join us any day." ON A WAR RAMPARTS 75 Approved For Release 2005/01/13 : CIA-RDP88-0135OR000200680011-8 Smetana wearily sighed and went her way. She carried on her Beetle-Quest with growing perturbation Among Debutantes and Dilettantes In country digs of the Upper Crust. "I have to find the Beetles!" she beseeched. "Only their Charms will help me find myself." But all she found were Scones and Tea and Sympathy. And that wasn't u y Picnic. "I greatly fear," sJ~e said despondently, "I've been given the' Wrong Directions." Z~w DOUBLEDAY? PARIS REVIEW EDITIONS "For the first time I'm really apprehensive about what I'm going to find... "It's not a matter of fear of getting shot at ... I'm just wondering what's going to be left of 'my,old Viet-Nam'..." BERNARD D. FALL'S LAST REFLECTIONS Approved FJ A new and revolutionary interpretation of Jesus, His mission and meaning, based upon His own words works, and drama as they are posed against the knowledge of twentieth-century man. r (11B ~ 111L By PRESTON HAROLD Introduction by Gerald Heard DR. OLIVER LESLIE REISER, Pro- fessor Emeritus, Dept. of Philos- ophy, University of Pittsburgh: "Mr. Harold has rendered man- kind a valuable service in utiliz- ing the methodology and findings of science - from physics and biology to parapsychology - in seeking to understand the role of religion in man's changing civilization. He shows much com- petence in his task and comes up with a world view that will have to be taken into account by others in this area." HENRY MILLER, author: "The Shining Stranger is truly re- markable ... The author's erudi- tion is formidable ... But anyone eager to get his 'message' will be . bie to read between the lines ... He has made of Jesus an extra- ordinary being whether viewed from a religious standpoint or the 'laique' one ... There are pas- sages which are dizzying-as if we were dealing with a being from another planet." DR. MARTIN E. MARTY, Univer- sity of Chicago Divinity School, in Saturday Review: "The Shin- ing Stranger is as radically dif- ferent-as is Craven's Jesus ... Debate about Him and His role will not end with these volumes, but it may take on new heat." DR. J. B. RHINE, Director of The Institute for Parapsychology: "I am glad to see in The- Shining Stranger an attempt to bring parapsychology to the aid of religion." ALY WASSIL, President, United World Religions: "The Shining Stranger is among the very few profound, realistic works ... pav- ing the way for religious peace in the world and the unity of mankind." A Wayfarer Press Book $7.50 Distributed by Dodd, Mend & Company. New York One night Smetana slept alone under a Patchwork of Stars Among Flowers and Mosquitoes. Suddenly, the Insect Hum took on the beat of "Yeah! Yeah, Yeah!" And-lo!-strange smiling Forms appeared With Electrical Antennae. Smetana cried with joy, "Dear Beetles, you have come'at last!" "You're on the n'i6on beam, Lass," they sang. "That'?' who we are. And yet that's not our name. Our name is every name. We're different, too, and all the same. We live in every land and on the farthest star. You've had the wrong lead. Address us care of Love, Luv." "And Who am I?" begged she. They sang, "You're you and we. You had it tough. So did we all. We too were not Born Free. We sprung free in ourselves and in necessity. We crack the quacks and bust the bars of bondage everywhere. Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" "And how do I find Joy and Peace of Mind?" asked she. They sang, "Kick looking back and blow the status quo! The present is already past, the future what will be. It's far beyond ourselves that we must go." She cried, "Can I go with you there?" They chorused, "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" Just then Smetana's Bodyguard rushed up, Shouting, "Princess, where have you been?" The Beetles vanished in the Night. 1 AN ARQ i$ i1ny, "You've driven my Beetles away!" Ah Me! Alack-a-Day! You know what they say About the best-laid magic carpets of Princesses, Mice and Men. Smetana's Long-Sought Dream had Fled. Yet even so, This Maid was not Dismayed. She dried her tears next day on Travelers' Checks; And when a Tipster whispered, "Bet on the Beetles making book in a Hollywood Musical," She packed her Crown and Contracts in her Camping Car, Loaded first editions of her Book (in fifty languages), Stocked up on Bones and Biscuits for her Gypsy Dog, And drove West toward the Setting Sun. Her Faithful Retinue of Private Eyes Brought up the Royal Rear. And cunningly Hidden Away Among her Fan Mail, Manuscripts and Myrrh Was that rascal CIA. He'd really become attached to Her. THE END ?Copyright 1967, by Albert E. Kahn and David Levine. Smetana and the Beetles will be published by Random House at the end of November. Mr. Kahn is the author of Sabotage! and Days with Ulanova, a study in text and photographs of the Russian ballerina., Approved For Release 2005/01/13 : CIA-RDP88-0135OR000200680011-8