So there’s an article in the December 10 New Yorker about the failed policies of Mao during the Great Leap Forward. It’s woven from reviews of two books on the subject, one of which is a first-person account from a Chinese farmer who lived through the tumult, the other by two scholarly types.
One of whom is named Alexander V. Pantsov.
I am far too mature to make fun of names, particularly family names, and particularly family names of anyone accomplished enough to write a learned volume on something as complex and arcane as 1960s Maoist ideology. But I can’t help imagining the scholarly discussions…
“I need to get my Pantsov.”
“Look it up with your Pantsov.”
“Do you have your Pantsov?”
“I have my Pantsov on the shelf.”