Reading "Black Wind, White Snow"

My best friend mentioned "Black Wind, White Snow" by Charles Clover years ago, when we were discussing Russia's view of the West. We were also talking about American politics and about extreme right and extreme left political camps in Europe and the US - and who may be pouring money into those (Russia's attempt to destabilize the West?). 

I am finally reading the book now. I wish I was taking a class where I could ask questions - there are some things that don't add up, some things that don't quite make sense. I need to talk through it and figure out what it is I am missing - or maybe the author assumed some key concepts were so basic and obvious they warranted no additional explanation. Or maybe I am not missing anything and it is not supposed to make sense. Lev Gumilev's concepts of ethnos and nationalism? I don't get it. It could be because I have never read any of Gumilev's works. But also, "Умом Россию не понять". Which loosely means "Russia can not be comprehended with the mind." It's from an a poem by Tyutchev that we had to memorize back in the school days. And oh, my, it rings so true. 

I struggle to reconcile my very happy childhood in the USSR in the 80's and early 90's with the reality of life under totalitarian regime.

Let's extrapolate - forget the 80's in the USSR. Can one live a happy life when a madman is in control of your country? Does one have any right to personal happiness when terror reigns all around? Is there a moral obligation to NOT have a happy life if you live in Nazi Germany? Or Stalin's USSR? When there is so much suffering, do individuals have a moral obligation to be miserable, or to leave the country, or to commit actions, such as speaking out against the regime, that would guarantee misery and possibly death?

From "Black Wind, White Snow", page 84:

After the assasination of Kirov, a key member of the Communist Party in Leningrad, "...Stalin and his head of the NKVD, Nikolay Ezhov used the killing of Kirov as an excuse... the secret police set about "discovering" numerous foreign spy networks and conspiracies."

"The insanity multiplied, driven by paranoia and revenge. By the late 1930s, Stalin had imposed quotas for the secret police of each region to arrest and exterminate those deemed to be enemies of the state."

On page 85:

"...writers, artists and musicians lived in a fishbowl, monitored constantly for signs of any transgression by the NKVD... the secret police was instructed to build cases against the prominent intelligentsia, who lived in a dread of a knock on the door."

"They assumed that many of their friends were agents, informing on them; but they did not know who. In Gumilev's file, there are numerous denunciations..."

Page 104:

After Lev Gumilev's mother's (his mother was Anna Akhmatova, one of the most famous poets in Russia) husband was arrested: "Lev knew he was next. He packed clothes and books and kept them in a suitcase by the door...."

One of the most memorable conversations I had with my grandmother when I was a child was about what's important in a relationship. She said, during the terrifying times of the 1930's, 40's, and 50's, (and 60's and 70's) when you could not dare to speak your opinion, when you really had to watch what you said and who was listening - it was absolutely essential that she and my grandfather knew they could depend on each other. They shared trust (loyalty? faith in each other?) -  the word "trust" doesn't quite work here because this is beyond trust - during the times when "donos" - denunciation" from colleagues, neighbors, friends, even family could destroy lives. Yes, my grandparents had to speak in whispers and hints, but they were on the same page as far as politics and their feelings about the regime. 

Do you find it challenging to reconcile your own and your family personal experiences with historic narratives? What about when suddenly, an odd conversation or experience is made clear because you just gained a better understanding of the past?