For a writer, Russia is a treasure trove. It generates the most improbable story lines, the characters it harbors make Hollywood action heroes seem anemic, and its history is a thrilling mixture of triumph and tragedy. The country has seen the apostle Andrew and Adolf Hitler, Emperor Napoleon and Mongol riders, Peter the Great and the Vikings. It has been part of the Great Game and the space race. It has experienced all possible kinds of regimes: absolutism, early republicanism, theocracy, communism, Nazism, democracy, you name it. No matter what you are writing about -- porcelain, engineering, the navy or ballet -- Russia will yield research riches. Provided you survive the process.
The most frequent misapprehension about Russia is: You'll be fine there as long as you have dollars. No matter how poor Russia may be, it is not an Armani store. Very often, money will get you nowhere and sometimes, even worse, can get you into real trouble. This is exactly what happens with Russian archives.
The excitement and enthusiasm about Russia's archives that were widespread among Western historians less than 10 years ago have evaporated. People doing research in the cold, gloomy reading rooms of Russian depositories complain of rudeness, groundless suspiciousness and appalling xenophobia. Very few places are still researcher-friendly, although the Naval Archives in St. Petersburg is one. Most others have resumed a Cold War-era attitude.