The parable “Rabbits and Boas” was written, as with most of Iskander’s masterpieces from the “Soviet period,” “away in a drawer.” It was first published abroad and only in 1986 was it presented to Russian readers—and it caused a scandal comparable only to the lifetime publications of Saltykov-Shchedrin’s biting fairy tales. On what does the power of mighty boas over naive, trusting rabbits rest? On fear—blinding, irrational, paralyzing fear. On what does the idea of the wildly bold rabbit—one who tried to overthrow this bloodthirsty power—rest? On the simple denial of fear, because what can you scare those who, in principle, have nothing to lose with? But why are the rabbits even more dissatisfied with such a revolutionary idea than their creeping masters and executioners? Perhaps because they themselves, used to living within the “small but delightful injustice” of theft and bribery, fear a change of power far more than the possibility of being eaten?