Vladimir Azarov was a child of the Soviet Kazakhstan steppes. When his
mother discovered that he had a slight curvature of the spine, with her
own loving humour she nicknamed him Richie, after Richard III, the 14th
century English king, himself crooked, made famous as a monster by
Shakespeare. At the same time Azarov suffered a vision-altering wound to
his eye that transformed the way he perceived the world, both real and
imagined. The wound eventually healed and, as he grew up feeling a wry
kinship to the king, his bent eye became that of a visionary, of an
artist who was a convention-breaking architect, and finally as a poet,
not writing in Russian, but in the King's English. When, not long ago,
the actual bones of Richard III were found under a parking lot in
Leicester town, Azarov - now in his 80s living in Toronto, and
remembering his kinship by name - envisioned the archeological dig and
re-interment of the bones, and he became one in his mind with the
reputation-renovated and redeemed king. He became, at last,
Richie-Richard III, being sung to on a rainy day, over a new grave, by
medieval knights.