RUSSIAN MARRIAGE.

Timaru Herald, Volume CXXV, Issue 18614, 9 July 1930, Page 4

RUSSIAN MARRIAGE.

HOW THE SYSTEM WORKS. A two-hour glimpse of the working of a Soviet divorce “court,” as describ ed by an eye-witness, gives eloquent testimony of the complete breakdow of marriage under Bolshevik rule, an to the increasing uncertainty and un rest in the life of the family in cor sequence (says a writer in the “Chris tian Science Monitor”). Application to a girl in charge of the registry is the only formality needec to secure the necessary certificate o marriage or divorce in the particular “court” visited, and irresponsibl young people are even found to take out the marriage certificate and comeback for a divorce while the writer is still at the registry. The right to divorce one’s husband or wife is not questioned or even discussed by the Soviet law. In the Russia of to-day divorce proceedings do not exist. A wife can divorce her husband in his absence and without his knowledge, and the registry office sends the husband an official notice informing him that his wife divorced him, and that the divorce was registered on such and such a date. I came into the registration office quite early and the waiting-room was empty. The posters on the wall invited people to “think again before taking the step,” to “think about the children before they decided to separate. I knocked at the door which bore a notice, “Open from 9 a.m. till 7 p.m.; dinner hours from 2 till 3,” and went in. The girl at the table looked up and smiled at me. “Come to see how we work?” she said; “take a chair there by the window. We’ll be open in a minute. You should have been here yesterday,” she continued, “we had about 40 divorces here, and some, I’m sure, you would have found very interesting!” I sat down and almost immediately the door opened and a woman came in. She walked straight to the table and stood there without saying a word.

“Well, have you decided now?” asked the girl. “Yes, I have,” said the woman. “He has come back drunk every night for the last week, and now be threatens . . .” “You know the law: he will have to go after you divorce him. What is your name? Have you your identity papers with you?”

The woman handed a small black book to the girl and stood silent ar-ain while the divorce certificate was being filled in and stamped. The girl signed her name on the certificate with red ink and said: “Here you are, now you are free, and I hope you won’t i egret it. He was no good, I think." The woman calmed down, and, saying, “good-bye,” left the room. The girl at the table turned to me. “She came last week and wanted to divorce her husband then, but I sent her back and advised her to think it over. Sometimes we have to do that, you know.” The door opened a£ain and a couple came in. The man was obviously a Communist and of a type known in Russia as “responsible worker,” with a portfolio under his arm and a very serious face. The woman was quite young and pretty, and well dressed. They came to the table. “Yes?” asked the girl. “We want to register a divorce, please,” said the woman. “And please hurry up with it. I have a committee sitting in half an hour,” added her husband. “Your papers, please*?” The man produced his, but his wife,

after having made a thorough search of her handbag and her coat pockets, announced that she had left hers at home.

“Sorry, but I cannot register your divorce without your papers. You’ll have to come again, and be sure to bring them next time.” The man was indignant. “Didn’t I tell you to be sure and take them? Can’t you remember such a simple thing? And now I have no time to go back tomorrow I’m busy the whole day long. . . They went out. The next couple met them at the door. The girl came in first and the boy—he was not more than 20 years old, I thought—followed her with a grin on his face. They had come to register their marriage. They received their certificates, had their papers marked with the word “married” in red ink, and left, saying “Thank you” to the girl, who wished them happiness.” The next two also were cases of registration of marriage. I looked out into the waiting room. It was full of people now. Some sat on a long wooden bench, some walked about the room. One man read a newspaper. The girl put her head out of the door. “Who is next? Please come in.”

The man who was reading the newspaper came. He wanted a divorce from his wife.

“Have you decided. . . began the girl, and he interrupted her: “Now, understand this, my dear young person, I won’t have any interference. Get on with your work.” The girl wrote out the certificate and handed it to him. “Close the door after you,” said she, “and register your next marriage somewhere else, not here, please!” “Some of them are trying,” sighed the girl as the man walked out. “as if it were my fault that he has to divorce his wife. I know him; he Is an engineer, and makes a lot of money.” Two young girl 6 came in. One looked much too young to register either marriage or divorce. Her friend explained that she wants to divorce her husband, who left her and disappeared. And I’m telling her that it is no use waiting till he turns up again, and perhaps he won’t—her mother says it’s silly, too!" “But she does not want to divorce him? Why do you force her to do

so?” asked the girl at the table. “You’d better go home and think it over, and maybe.” she added kindly, “he will come back again and everything will be all right.” “Oh, no. I’d better do it now!” interposed the child. “I tell you you had better go home, I won’t register it now—come to-mor-row, and don't listen to people; think it over yourself!” I left the police station. On the street I met the young couple who had come to get married a little while before. They walked quickly and the girl was obviously excited. The girl at the table prophesied that they would be back in a month’s time for a divorce, but they were there already in about an hour.