‘I must leave Poland!’

Scarlett stared at me in disbelief and alarm. She did not at first take me seriously.

After a night without one blink of sleep, I reaffirmed my intention; a further 24 hours passed and my resolution had become even more firmly fixed, despite my awareness of gargantuan obstacles ahead. My escape from Poland would be extremely perilous; but this was not the only danger I was facing. I had no idea if I would be able to build a career elsewhere: I might neither be accepted into the musical life of any other country, nor, tearing my roots from my native soil, find myself able to develop further as a composer. But I could not compose at home either. I felt not one ounce of hesitation about throwing away my exalted but empty position in Poland in exchange for the unknown. The succession of final straws had beaten me into a state of absolute determination to leap into any void rather than submit to the absurd pressures for an instant longer. And, as I went, I planned to make enough clatter to ensure that the whole world would hear about the hell experienced by creative artists in the countries of the Eastern bloc.

Poor Scarlett had not the slightest desire to leave. Companionship counted much more for her than politics or even music. She seemed to feel that she belonged now more to Poland than to her native Ireland.1 She had made many friends in Warsaw – and they were now perhaps her only friends after eight years away from home. She thrived on the waves of adulation emanating from the gallant Poles, who know better than anyone else in the world how to show admiration for attractive women. In Warsaw her pale skin and glinting auburn hair were exotic, almost unique. It was asking a lot to expect her to give up her reign as a great beauty as well as her privileged social standing in Poland as my wife. However, if she were to remain in Warsaw, it could only be without me.

She gradually understood as I told her that my nerves would crack totally if I stayed on; that I was on the point of mental breakdown; that I had to burst out of our prison, whatever dangers lay outside, because otherwise inside I would suffocate, explode.