The Soviet Union was a huge country, the largest in the world. Its neighbors were Alaska in the East and Scandinavia in the West. In the south it stretched as far as the Caucasus and Pamir mountain ranges, and in the North reached out into the Arctic Ocean.
When the rays of dawn light up the sky of Khabarovsk in the Far East, the sun is only just beginning to set in Minsk, Kiev and other cities in the west; and while icy winds blow in Yakutia, roses bloom in Tashkent and vacationers enjoy the sun on the pebbly beaches of the Black Sea.
Many different peoples live in this huge country, each with its own habits and traditions, its own language. The Uzbek language, for instance, bears as little resemblance to the Russian or, say, the Moldavian as the Arabic does to the English or the Chinese.
And each of the peoples of the former Soviet Union has its own fairytales.
The Chuckchi and Nenets tales as well as the tales of other peoples of Russia's North transport us into the snowy tundra, a realm of fierce frosts and howling blizzards, where the dog and the reindeer are man's best friends. In the tales of the peoples of Central Asia caravans of camels plod slowly over the scorching sands, and the ceaseless murmur of water comes from the numerous canals that feed the ever thirsty fields. Other scenes and images rise up before us when we read Russian fairy-tales. The stout-hearted young heroes of these tales gallop on horseback over hills and dales which are green in summer and carpeted with snow in winter, while their lovely tsarevnas sit patiently waiting for them in their log towers with windows of mica.
Open the book, and you will find yourselves in a world of magic. None of your old friends will be there -neither Jack the Giant Killer, nor Little Red Riding Hood, nor Cinderella or any of the others. Instead, together with Ivan the Peasant's Son you will cross swords with Chudo-Yudo, the fire-breathing monster; follow Pokati-Goroshek the Rolling Pea into the underground kingdom and return from there on the back of an eagle; marvel at the cleverness of Zarniyar who outwitted the sly and cruel Shah; be filled with admiration at Boroldoi-Mergen, the brave hunter of the Altai Mountains who risked the life of his own son in order to save his people; delight in the resourcefulness of a simple weaver who surpassed in wisdom the wisest councillors of the tsar.
