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Editor’s Note. — The lithe and graceful Kosloff danced before most of the royal courts of Europe ; he knew Russia before the Revolution; knew the Kaiser rvhen Berlin was the gayest capital in Europe; knew King Edward VIII, Kerensky, Anton Tcheckov, Tolstoi, Tschaikowsky, the Rothschilds, Madame Sarah Bernhardt, the present King of England and others among the zvorld’s most interesting personalities. Just a boy when first presented to Tsar Nicholas, he has seen Russia from its glory to its degradation. He tells of Lenin, Trotsky, of Tchitcherin ; he paints a picture of future Russia that no one can afford to miss. “Before Kings Fell” is an intensely human document by a man ivhose art brought him in contact with European notables before he came to America and achieved distinction before the motion picture camera.
AS a pupil of the Imperial Ballet schools at Moscow and Petrograd ; as a dancer before all the royal courts of i Europe, and as a Russian citizen, it has been my privilege to meet and know not only the great ones of my own unfortunate country, but likewise outstanding 'figures in every portion of the world.
I have been approached many times to tell of those I knew ; to paint in words kings, dreamers, schemers, poets, dramatists, composers, philosophers, some of whom passed on while others still flash brilliantly before us.
When the world was in travail, when the blood of my country’s ruler had hardly dried on the walls of his execution room in bfeak Siberia — such a recital did not seem in good taste. Now, however, order seems slowly arising from chaos. Even Russia has thrown aside the red robe of Revolution for the sober, business-like garments of Reconstruction.
Before Kings Fell
It was only the other day at the Lasky studio in Hollywood that I received word from my sister that the Moscow Bolsheviks had returned $50,000 worth of jewels stolen from my safety deposit box in 1914. Such an action in Russia presages the return of all Europe to normalcy.
People have almost forgotten Kerensky, the first great Russian revolutionary leader, yet to him must be credited the motivating force for much of the good Russia will gain in her struggle for a democracy as opposed to the days when 128,000,000 people, uneducated, unenlightened, were held in absolute thrall by a “ruling class” of less than 2,000 who spent their hours in Cannes, Paris and Monte Carlo, giving to their Russian affairs only the careless attention of an absentee landlord.
I knew Kerensky when I was dancing in Petrograd and he was a member of the Russian Duma. Kferensky was a dreamer, a man bashful and retiring, who under the heat of an idea could lash himself to tremendous heights of inspired oratory. Kerensky fell because the dreamer was not also a man of action, because the inevitable, physical blood
(Tuenty-two)