Pussy Riot and the Plastic People of the Universe

Tom Stoppard’s wonderful play Rock N’ Roll covers the period between 1968, when Soviet tanks rolled into Prague, and 1990, when the Rolling Stones played the city. It’s Stoppard at his near-best: warm and funny, romantic and revolutionary, dedicated to ideas.

At the heart of the play is the reluctant dissident Jan. In Prague, says Jan, “there is only one agent of truth. That is not human—humans disagree with each other.” He is extolling the virtues of British newspapers. Jan, who has a doctorate and a state-assigned bakery job, loves England nearly as much as he loves rock music.

I picked up Rock N’ Roll this week, in the aftermath of the Pussy Riot sentencing in Russia. Three feminist/anarchist musicians were given two years in a prison camp for staging a “protest prayer” during mass at Moscow’s Orthodox cathedral. Supporters have defaced and cut down crosses. The musicians—who, contrary to the judge’s decision, are not anti-Christian—have asked for a stop to this.