Herzen quickly characterizes the dichotomy between Moscow and St. Petersburg through their residents, the habitants’ ways of life and the general feel of the city. However, after reading A Guide to a Renamed City by Joseph Brodsky, its blatantly obvious Herzen missed yet another dichotomy: globalization pit against xenophobia.

Brodsky is awfully critical of St. Petersburg in his account, but he does concede that the city is uncharacteristically welcoming of foreigners, relative to the rest of the country. This follows from Peter’s original mandate for the city, “[he] wanted a gate, and he wanted it ajar” (pp. 72). In other words, he did not want to simply emulate the West; rather, he wanted a portal to access it. Brodsky classifies Petersburg as, “an international city, with large French, German, Dutch and English colonies” (pp. 82). Additionally, he includes what Pushkin had prophesied, “‘All flags will come to us as guests!’” (pp. 82). Thus, instead of simply being a medium through which the West and Russia could interact, Petersburg was designed to foster globalization.

Moscow, according to Herzen, is more traditional and spiritual. This is echoed in Brodsky’s account, who acknowledges the existence of, “traditional Russian xenophobia” (pp. 83). Implicitly, he is stating that Russian traditionalism and xenophobia are intrinsically intertwined. This inference becomes more explicit when Brodsky recounts the reinstatement of Moscow as the capital under Lenin, “as the country, with its capital returned to Moscow, retreated to its womblike, claustrophobic, and xenophobic condition” (pp. 88). Brodsky clearly states his association of traditionalism and xenophobia with Moscow, noting the country profoundly regresses under this change. However, he also gives Lenin credit for, “sparing St. Petersburg both ignoble membership in the global village…” (pp. 85). Hypocritically, he praises Lenin’s capital move for its isolationism while calling traditional Russians xenophobes several times in the text.

Intentionally overlooking the hypocrisy, it is clear Brodsky paints another dichotomy between the two largest Russian cities: future globalization and traditional xenophobia.