One of Evan Gershkovich's Russian prison guards had some friendly advice. “Evan, don't forget to write a book.” He didn't forget. Gershkovich is a foreign correspondent for the Journal. In March 2023, Russia wrongfully detained him and charged him with spying. He was held for 16 months. A prisoner swap set him free, with two dozen prisoners and seven countries involved. Julia M. Klein reviews his memoir, This Cursed Beautiful Land, in the Journal.
He spent most of that time in Lefortovo, a Moscow prison. Klein calls that section the book's most gripping part. It shows how people adapt. His moods swung, so he leaned on small routines. He wrote in a journal, meditated and worked out. He watched TV, and sometimes he was the news. At last he had time for Tolstoy's War and Peace, in Russian. Letters, packages and visits from lawyers broke up the weeks. His cellmate, a street-smart man who studied macroeconomics and recited poetry, is a composite. Gershkovich built him that way to protect people who are still locked up.
The arrest itself was a trap. He'd gone to Yekaterinburg to meet a source for a story on Russian military production. The meeting was a sting by the FSB, Russia's security service. Agents cuffed him too tight and beat him. He had felt protected as an American journalist. He wasn't. Months of legal limbo followed, with pretrial hearings where he sat in a cage. He reports that Russian courts acquit fewer than 1% of defendants. His verdict was never in doubt, and it was the point. A convicted man could be traded.
After the welcome home
Simple, human things kept him going. His parents stood by him and lobbied hard for him. A romance grew by letter with a Russian journalist based in Berlin. Colleagues and friends helped. Home brought joyful reunions and, Klein notes, post-traumatic stress disorder. At times he froze. He dreamed of prison. He went to therapy, and he went back to reporting. He's now based in Berlin and can't return to Russia, at least for now. He's the Journal's own reporter, so the paper has a stake in this story.
Our read
We file this under Behavioral, with a side of Health Costs. Two things in this memoir are worth borrowing for ordinary life. First, routine beats mood. Gershkovich couldn't control the swap, so he controlled his day. Journal, exercise, a long book. People going through a job loss or a long illness can do the same with their money. Pay the same bills on the same day. Check the accounts once a week and leave them alone in between. Second, the crisis isn't over when it's over. The PTSD came after the welcome home. In money terms, the bills for a hard year often land in the calm year that follows. Budget for the after.
Here's the connection to your own plan. For 16 months, Gershkovich couldn't act for himself. His parents lobbied, lawyers visited, and letters got through. The thing this story touches in your plan is the durable power of attorney, the paper that names who can handle your money if you can't. This week, check that the person you named knows it. Then check that they could actually reach your accounts, since some banks want their own form. If family members travel or work abroad, ask them the same. Too many people fix this after the trouble starts, when it may be too late to sign. The umbrella is cheap on a dry day, and a review is a good place to check yours.