Arresting Biographies: The Secret Police File in the Soviet Union and Romania

Abstract

S OON AFTER STARTING my research on personal files from the former secret police archives in Bucharest, I realized that I was often their second reader.' Because my predecessor, the secret police archivist, had left thick pencil marks that had survived through the decades, I could easily trace the trajectory of that first reading, with its narrow emphasis on the main narrative, the conclusive evidence, names, and court decisions. The archivist rushed to the inexorable closing of the files, intent on quelling any questions along the way. Following that red thread, I gradually learned to decode acronyms and pseudonyms and to read for the plot. Before long, however, I lost my place in this tedious, complicit reading. The file appeared as a disturbing collage of found objects still pregnant with untold stories: yellowed newspaper clippings, a love letter opened before reaching its intended destination, the transcript of an overheard conversation, scalloped-edged photographs, and fragments of literary manuscripts. If the suspicious gaze of the secret police had turned everything into incriminating evidence, I became interested in returning that gaze from the critical perspective of a reader of literature.