Over a month ago, the NYT published a review of a
run-away Russian bestseller, “America
According to the review,
Zlobin “devotes many pages to privacy, a word that does
not exist in the Russian language, or in the airless human mass that forms when
Russians wait in line. Americans, he reports, prefer to converse at a distance
of at least four feet.” On the other hand, “Mr. Zlobin
scrutinizes the American practice of interrogating complete strangers about the
details of their pregnancies; their weird habit of leaving their curtains open
at night, when a Russian would immediately seal himself off from the prying
eyes of his neighbors.” I am not sure about those
pregnancy-related inquiries, but I am curious as to why exposing oneself to the
prying eyes of strangers counts as unadulated love for privacy.
I work in an academic building which
houses the offices of both American and non-American faculty. No prizes for
guessing members of which group (with a few notable exceptions) tend to keep
their doors open most of the time. I must say I find this a bit spooky – maybe because
I cannot understand the many faces of “privacy” (a word which does not exist in
Bulgarian either).
To Zlobin’s credit, his book does
seem to point to one fundamental difference which may underlie most of the more
superficial cultural distinctions he describes. He suspects “the difference in the choice of alcoholic drinks
is a reflection of the difference in national character and depth of emotions” – and I suspect this
emotional gap may be at the bottom of many other divergent attitudes as well. Unless human emotions are indeed socially constructed, as some
anthropological dogma still holds.
