As I Said by Lev Loseff (bilingual Russian edition)

This bilingual collection of the poems of Lev Loseff begins with a preemptory acknowledgement, by series editor Jean Boase-Beier, of the difficulties of translating poetry, especially when a reader has no knowledge of the original language and thus might miss subtleties that the poet intended. As Boase-Beier puts it:

We know that translated poetry is neither English poetry that has mysteriously arisen from a hidden foreign source, nor is it foreign poetry that has silently rewritten itself in English. We are more aware that translation lies at the heart of all our cultural exchange; without it, we must remain artistically and intellectually insular.

With this in mind, both Russian and English versions are here provided “side-by-side because translations do not displace the originals; they shed new light on them and are in turn themselves illuminated by the presence of their source poems.” And translator G. S. Smith shows a similar attention to detail and attitude that goes beyond mere words: Smith was actually able to translate much of Loseff’s personality in the poems, as the two collaborated over the translations over a period of several years and Loseff gave his approval to the resulting works. Loseff, an editor himself who has translated Joseph Brodsky, guided Smith in some areas with comments and suggestions, but his firmest request was that the poems be presented in reverse chronological order. It was Smith who chose the poems for the collection, selecting those that had the best prospects for accurate translation.

Yet another scholar, Barry P. Scherr, contributes an introduction to Loseff that gives some essential biographical information, making the poems that much more compelling. Loseff was part of what was casually called the “philological school” of Russian poets; intensely familiar with and influenced by traditional Russian literature, he refers to his country’s most famous writers (e.g. Pasternak, Dostoevsky, and Pushkin) in many of his own poems. Besides this cultural expertise, Scherr notes that Loseff is also a poet of observation, one whose emotion “arises from contemplating the world outside the poet, rather than the writer’s most intimate thoughts.” Yet Loseff does reveal himself on his terms, subtly, and G.E. Smith picks up on such nuances.

“At the Clinic” for example, will strike many readers viscerally (here’s the full poem):

The doctor mumbled things about my kidneys,
and looked away. I pitied this MD.
For life to me had burst its inhibitions,
and now flowed heatedly and easily.

Diploma on the wall. MD. His awkward silence.
Hand scribbling out a slanting recipe.
While I'm astonished by this easy lightness—
so easy had the news turned out to be!

What happened to the demons that beset me?
I'm breathing easily, not like before.
I'll go and let them have some blood for testing,
and give a bit more blood to sign this poem.

A great deal is revealed in the poetic subtext: “Burst” and the phrase “flowed heatedly” contrast with the idea of ease. In fact, Loseff uses variances of “easy” four times in the poem’s three stanzas. At the conclusion, there’s a play on words in regard to blood—using both “give” and “let”—that indicates a sense of surrender despite the lightness he’s just described. Curiously, Loseff initially speaks of the “doctor” delivering the news, only to repeatedly call him “MD” afterwards. The usage on the facing page in Russian also uses a different word for doctor after the first, which made me curious if there was an aural play on words here, as “MD” in English sounds like “empty.” Does the Russian word Loseff used, Врач, also hint at another meaning?

A poem that reaches into Russian literary history is “The Blood Washed Off. The Axe Dumped in the River,” which seems to make a clear reference to Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment. While Raskolnikov stashed the axe rather than dumping it in the Neva, Loseff contrasts this murderer’s obsession over guilt (felt even before the murder occurred) and cleanliness with contemporary criminals, who “abandon axe and empty bottles by the body, mumble / when questioned, not bother washing off the blood.”

Throughout the collection, Smith’s translation beautifully captures a duality to the meanings. A phrase like “the river’s molten-honey seethe” in a poem about the death of a commercial area easily reminds the reader of the river Lethe and the feeling of forgetfulness. The layers are uncovered by Smith but never fully revealed—keeping Loseff an enigmatic poet whose work is destined for further study.

Published by ARC Publications.

First published in Rain Taxi magazine, 2013

www.raintaxi.com

Memoirs of a Gulag Actress by Tamara Petkevich (nonfiction)

Translated from the Russian by Yasha Klots and Ross Ufberg

Astonishing.  Painful.  And incredibly difficult to put down...

I am not sure what I was expecting when I started this book.  The idea that any form of entertainment was possible in the Gulag prison camps seemed bizarre.  Yet her part in a theatre troupe is not the most amazing part of the book-the book as a whole is a fascinating exploration into personal character in the face of paralyzing evil.

First off, we learn that Tamara was regularly beaten by her somewhat mysterious father-she faced extreme punishment in the home for the slightest perceived error.  However, her father was captured and imprisoned, taken away from the family, and leaving her mother and three sisters without assistance.  The mystery of her father's 'crime' became meaningless as just finding sustenance for one day became a challenge.  She feels deeply concerned about providing for her family, given her mother's emotional instability and the changing political climate.  Eventually, she decides to marry a man who has been exiled to a distant city because he was a doctor, part of the intelligentsia that the Soviet's so despised.  Her move to him there, in the hopes that she could send money home to her family in Leningrad, was possibly the worst mistake she could make. 

The Soviet paranoia couldn't understand why someone would willfully choose exile, so she was under suspicion immediately.  Not only was she unable to help her family (her mother and a sister died during the Siege of Leningrad), but her so-called friends and acquaintances turned her in and made up charges against her (likely to receive basic necessities for themselves or some sort of leeway in their own troubles).  Imprisoned and sentenced, she ends up in the Gulag, serving hard labor by harvesting and processing hemp.

There's so much about this book that is covered--personal life, Russian politics, family interactions (her mother-in-law is a piece of work!), and unimaginable horror, that it's hard to review and not tell it all.  There's so much beyond just the facts but how she processed them as they occurred.  It left me with many questions.

Namely, given that she doesn't appear to have many close friends that have remained loyal, no family to count on, no spiritual connection to draw on, and very few examples of courage, how did she remain sane and decent?  What gave her the strength to go through it all, essentially alone in every aspect?  A cheating husband, a sister who can't forgive her for leaving (and failing to protect her), a son ripped from her arms who ends up never wanting to be part of her life?  The physical pain of hard labor, starvation, and beatings?

As a personal history, it's astounding.  Her voice throughout it is never self-pitying, and in fact, at a few points I imagined she was being a little too positive about the situations.  Was it just in her nature to look for the best in it all?  Suicide was an option of many-for her it was unimaginable. 

It's very fast-paced and dramatic, and while a knowledge of some Russian history is helpful, I wouldn't think it's essential.  A few moments of confusion occurred for me as many of the names were not only difficult but she didn't use each name consistently, sometimes she would use a nickname or a surname or the Russian patronymics (patronyms?) interchangeably.  I felt like I needed a sheet to keep track of names.  Also, it gave me a bit of pause to consider that she doesn't really reveal anything negative about herself:  no flaws or weaknesses.  Genuine history generally shows both sides, the good and the bad, to merit accuracy.  Yet, it's her biography so I'm sure it was her right to share only what she wished.  I just kept hoping she'd be a little more human and lose her temper with her conniving and hideous mother-in-law or give her cad husband a little more grief.

However, I'd recommend this to anyone interested in Russia.  It's a clean read too, nothing explicit or unsavory, so even young teens could read this and learn just how ugly history can be.  I can't help but think anyone who reads this is better off in their own life by seeing just how, by contrast, our society is pampered and simple.

Special thanks to Northern Illinois University Press for the Review Copy.

Update: Eastern European Reading Challenge

We're five months into the Reading Challenge...how are you doing?  Are you anywhere near your goals for tourist, scholar, or ambassador?  Hopefully this post will help inspire you to stay motivated.

First off, check out this link:
http://www.theblacksheepdances.com/2011/01/links-to-your-reviews-of-eastern.html

At that link, you'll find other links to reviews by a number of diehard participants in the challenge.  Damian has reviews for titles from Blatnik, Teodorovicis, Kompanikova, Stiks, Nodas, and Kovalytis.  Linda has links to her reviews for Kadare, Slouka, Kertesz, Nadas, and Dragoman. Chrissie discusses Fraser, and Bernadette has reviews for Akunin and Eastland.  Alister also discusses Akunin.  Colleen reviews Pasulkas title and Jose reviews Miloszewski.  WonderBunny tackles Lukyanenko, as Melwyk tackles Barclay.  Lastly, CaptiveReader reviews Ignatieff and Pick.

I didn't even bother with spell-check on that paragraph!  Check out that link to discover the reviews and also enjoy the blogs of some of the participants.

Next up:  this link gives you a whole bunch of titles suggested by participants.  Daisy really outdid herself with titles to explore:  http://www.theblacksheepdances.com/2011/01/suggest-title-for-eastern-european.html.  Lisa also has a link to her blog where she reviews some of the deepest of the Russian genre.

It's appropriate that we are covering Eastern Europe, as Russia is currently the hot genre in publishing.  The London Book Fair earlier this year focused on Russian novels and poetry.  It's expected that Russian literature is going to dominate the next 18 months as Scandinavian crime did last year.

Here are some brand-new or forthcoming titles that should be mentioned:

Slavenka:  A Guided Tour through the Museum of Communism:  Penguin Books.  Animals in fable-like stories act as symbols for the Communist era.

Andrey Kurkov Death and the Penguin and Penguin Lost.  Melville House.  Russian based detective/crime with a humorous twist.

Vladimov, Georgi.  Faithful Ruslan.  Melville House.  A guard dog acts as motif.

Ulitskaya, Ludmila.  Daniel Stein, Interpreter.  Overlook.  True story of man who saved many Jews during the Holocaust.

Bronsky.  The Hottest Dishes of the Tartar Cuisine.  Europa Editions.  Russian emigrants, three generations of women.  (One of the best covers this year)....

Sadulaev.  I Am a Chechen!  Tin House Books.  Short stories.

Akunin.  He Lover of Death.  W&N.

Many more to come....

Lastly, there's a slew of Russian, Czech, and Slavic movies now available on Youtube and Netflix.  One, "Before the Rain" was discussed in detail Slavic Review's Spring Issue...it looks good but I haven't seen it.  It's set during the Bosnian Wars and was nominated for an Oscar for Best Foreign Film. 

Coming up this week on this blog, a review of Molotov's Magic Lantern and a Serbian title called, enticingly, Leeches.

Finally, the winner for the giveaway of Sofi Oksanen's Estonian novel, Purge, is Hamna.  She's got 48 hours to respond.  The next giveaway will be announced soon!

Tashkent: Forging a Soviet City by Paul Stronski

City planning often seems to be a new concept: a trend towards community-oriented design features that are usually intended to better a neighborhood or development by particular ordinances. For example, in my area, the housing boom of the 1980s led to massive building without much consideration of long-term community cohesiveness. After that bubble burst, a “new” trend arrived, requiring builders to consider small design enhancements to afford a better feel to a city. Encouraging front porches, open space, altering lot layouts, and keeping garage doors from being seen from the main streets were ideas encouraged to prevent the cookie-cutter home styles that arrived with the Baby Boom of the 1950s (think Hicksville, NY).

However, in the past, city planning was not considered a trend at all. Especially with the expansion West, cities were, at one point, often planned around where the city buildings, parks, and access roads would lie, and then the housing was built around that. One especially fascinating account of city planning that is unlike anything I’ve read before is Paul Stronski’s book Tashkent: Forging a Soviet City. Stronski compiles the details of how this city was planned from both a civil and structural aspect, right down to an artistic vision of the daily life of its residents. This was not small scale planning! A political endeavor from the beginning, it was an ideological effort to demonstrate Soviet superiority and show the Western world the advancement that the Socialists confidently intended to promote.

While the book covers a great deal of the planning stages, I’m going to focus on two areas that were especially interesting to me. First was the concept of engineering and building codes: apparently even in Soviet Russia, builders wanted to cut corners! The area of Central Asia was already determined to be the site of previous deadly earthquakes, but officials felt that since a 7.0 earthquake hadn’t presumably occurred in a hundred years, they could lower the codes to only deal with the ramifications of a 7.0 earthquake instead of an 8.0 quake (as initially considered). This “small” difference in engineering, combined with hurried construction done on the cheap, with inferior materials, and built in ways that were not common to the builders (tilt-up construction was still something new in the region) left the city vulnerable to earthquake damage. Even when devastating earthquakes occurred nearby, officials were still bent on promoting an image rather than safety.

“Tashkent urban planners still concentrated most of their attention on designing monumental structures….building a compact and beautiful public space was a quicker and easier way to impress and ‘show the state’s care for’ its citizens than building apartments or schools for the population.”


No spoilers, but you can imagine how well that went, and what signaled the end of Tashkent.

Another intention in designing Tashkent was to show that Soviet rule had a cultural side, and that it would be open to permitting ethnic and artistic diversity. In detail, one section discusses how the city tried to incorporate cultural forms that would rival Europe. One woman, Tamara Khanum, was one of the “first Uzbek women to perform unveiled in the 1920s” and became a ‘People’s Artist of the USSR’. She performed in various languages and became a spokesperson for the advanced Tashkent culture. She, along with other women, were used to advance the Soviet cause by appearing to be images of female emancipation, at a time when the West had yet to acknowledge women’s rights.

While the book is heavily detailed in discussing the planning and construction stages of Tashkent, it also sheds light on the Soviet mindset towards propaganda and their intentions. A city that few have ever heard of, Tashkent seems an anomaly in the history of Soviet rule, especially given what was going on in Siberia to the North. I think that is what I liked best about it: it exposes another facet of the era that I hadn’t run across in reading other history books.

Special thanks to Maria Sticco of the University of Pittsburgh Press for the Review Copy.

Tales of Priut Almus by Robert Belenky (nonfiction)

Robert Belenky is a clinical child psychologist who has chosen to spend his time working to study the dynamics of children who are abandoned or removed from their homes, in order to learn the best ways to help them grow to successful adults. With years of success in the US, he branched out to make voluntary trips to Haiti and Russia to observe the children in their temporary homes and determine how to more effectively design a shelter program. In Tales of Priut Almus, he relates

“It is a chronic condition of unfulfilled needs; of children huddled under railway station platforms, of orphans abandoned to fate, of victimization by way, disease, and abuse, of derelicts, scroungers, vagabonds, thieves, and crooks who inspire only revulsion in our hearts.”


Thus, he travels to Russia to stay in Priut Almus, a shelter for these “surplus children”, the majority of whom have lost their family structure due to alcoholism. The priut (which means shelter) houses a coed group of children in ages ranging from 3 to 17. The facility features combined sleeping rooms, an in-house medical facility, cooking facilities, and a large community room for eating and tasks. “Vospitatilnitsa” are the caregivers that keep order among the children. Chores are assigned for each child, and an informal ‘government’of children meets to discuss various decisions in the prius.

In this prius, the children are part of the community, attending school along with neighborhood kids, and are allowed to leave the prius on errands and field trips. However, the children are only allowed to stay in an almus like this for one year, after which they must leave and return home, transfer, or be lost to the streets.

Living in the prius as he does his research, Belenky is immersed in the schedule and the children bond instantly with him. Taking comprehensive notes on their behavior and interactions, he compiles what he feels are strengths and weaknesses to the facility design. His immediate concerns relate to the variance in ages and the mix of sexes, particularly of teenagers within the prius. On his visit though, all seems to be appropriate, and he notes a particular tenderness and instinct for protection that the older children feel for the younger.

Strengths of the prius include the healthy meals, structured schedules, and loving caregivers that, despite being grossly underpaid, attempt to provide stability and a measure of permanence. Included in Tales of Priut Almus are black and white photographs of many of the children: heartbreaking faces that display innocence and hope even in their tired eyes. To start this book, one should examine the photos first, as they make the connection to his observations more personal.

An absorbing read, I did find a few distractions. One was a large number of typos that should have been caught on an editorial level. These were especially noticeable in the second portion of the book but rare in the first half. I’m not sure how that came about, but it gave an amateur feel to the book despite the high credentials of its author. Given his devotion to this cause, making a number of trips over ten years at his expense, I can’t help but wish his information was presented better.  At other times, his commentary rambled and seemed repetitive, with small details that weren't always necessary.

The other thing that bugged me was a particular word choice he used. He describes the emotional needs of the children as well as the physical needs. “…not touching a needy child is also a form of child abuse. Children such as those who live in Almus must be touched-their hair must be brushed, they must be allowed to sit on one’s lap and they must be embraced as the occasion warrants, with honesty, warmth, safety, and sensuality.” I was agreeing with him until he arrived at “sensuality”. He repeats it and tries to clarify that he doesn’t mean sexuality, but I can’t find a synonym for sensual that doesn’t imply gratification on a sexual level. I understand what he’s trying to get across, but again, I think on an editorial level this word could have been removed and replaced with a more neutral choice. As it was, his phrasing sort of haunted me throughout the rest of the book and made me realize just how vulnerable children in this situation would be.

Belensky clearly knows how to advocate for children, and his insights into the structure and how it works successfully is a valuable tool in assessing other shelters and systems.  Not jumping in to change or alter the system, but rather neutrally observing makes both the children and staff comfortable in airing their concerns. 

Thanks to Kevin Gray of IUniverse for the Review Copy.

Pushkin's Prose Stories

Russia:  2011 READ EAST selection

Pushkin is pretty much synonymous with Russian prose, and in the past I can only remember reading a short story or two.  This collection contains most of his famous short stories as well as a few unfinished tales.  While they were written in the early 1800's, the stories are timeless and reflect quite a knowledge of human nature.  "The Blizzard" and "The Postmaster" were both favorites of mine..."The Undertaker" was also amusing.  The subject matter seems to revolve around the either very wealthy or very poor in Russia, with detailed descriptions of high society in the times.  Russia hadn't yet seen many of the tragedies that would later occur, so the stories are not heavily involved in military accounts or political issues.  Instead, very simple stories about ordinary people fill the volume.

This would be a great introduction to Russian literature, especially in that the short stories are not as much of a committment as War and Peace or Anna Karenina.  He's very concise as well, and the short stories pack a punch.

Equally interesting is reading a brief biography of Pushkin...he was quite the ladies man!  That is, until he decided he wanted to seek and marry the most beautiful woman in Russia.  He found her, and pursued her, and after many years, ended up dying in a duel over her honor in 1837. 

Special thanks to Lisa Hayden for the gift of the book!  I wasn't able to find the exact copy online, so the photo is from a very similar collection.

Wave of Terror by Theodore Odrach, historical fiction

Translated from the Ukrainian by Erma Odrach

Talk about a timely book! This novel is based on Theodore Odrach’s own life when Stalin’s Red Army came in to power in Belarus. Given that Belarus is very much in the news this week, with the controversy over recent elections and the beating and deportation of several journalists, it seems that a glimpse at its history is appropriate.

I know of several people who have read Wave of Terror recently, and all were moved by it because of how revealing the novel is about resilience, fear, and courage. Briefly, it deals with the experiences of a school teacher in the rural region of the Pinsk marshes-one who finds himself trying to walk the tightrope of pleasing the new regime without losing his moral balance. He is an endearing character, much like Ivan in Vasily Grossman’s Everything Flows. However, while the Grossman novel features Ivan looking back on his experiences, in this we see Kulik and what he is thinking as he experiences the significant events that turn the small region upside down, yet again. As an educated man, he is a threat to the Stalinist leaders, who give him simple advice to follow:

“I know you’re a historian with a degree…which is not to your credit. To put it simply, you have an education from a bourgeois institution where you were taught not only by non-socialist professors but also by pretentious, self-serving priests. You were educated in a hostile and unproductive environment. Take my advice and study the five volumes of Soviet history. Become a master of Marxist methodology…Give added attention to the Communist Manifesto, and learn how the capitalist classes of all nations will be overthrown and eliminated by a worldwide working-class revolution.”


The pressure to succumb to the indoctrination is great; if he doesn’t conform he will be shipped away to Siberia. Anyone can endanger him, as just the simplest lie about him from a student or associate will be enough to remove him, because the regime rewards those who inform. With a starving community and hostility around, every word he speaks endangers him, and yet “even silence could bring disaster”. The story of how he moves through this virtual minefield is both surprising and inspiring.

Odrach's passport photo

What is especially revealing about the novel’s voice is its coverage of the subject of languages. Having read a few Stalin-era books lately, I hadn’t quite caught on to how language itself is a tool of indoctrination. In Kulik’s rural village, the villagers normally spoke Ukrainian. Having been previously invaded by Poland however, they had been impelled to only speak Polish before reverting back to Ukrainian. Then the regime change insisted that they all speak Belorussian, but made clear it was a stepping stone to the entire area speaking Russian. Without access to their native tongue, the people had much of their culture stripped away, long before the Red Army came in and further eliminated cultural distinctions. Germany eventually occupied Belarus as well, which adds yet another linguistic layer to their history.

The language issue is significant because even now in Belarus, as its citizens are divided because those who wish to retain the Belorussian language and cultural identity (in order to prevent further “Russification” of their region) are outnumbered by those who wish to embrace the Russian language for simplification and economic benefit.  The loss of one’s native language means the loss of unique phrases, idioms, and subtle historical details. The poet Valzhyna Mort is one writer who is fighting for the language, which she describes in parts of her book Factory of Tears.

Wave of Terror also answered a question that had been gnawing at me. Why did the people let the Red Army take over? Why didn’t they resist more? In the narrative, a key element made a great impact on me: the people were hungry and without basic necessities. In this state of desperation, any change was embraced, even if it meant turning on lifelong friends or family, and even if the promised changes never materialized. Stalin’s leaders offered food to hungry people, and although they didn’t get much, they were easily manipulated. It’s the same sort of manipulation that Hitler used to great effect, as well as the Roman Caesars who were able to draw crowds to the gladiator fights with the promise of food. Without the essentials of daily life, oppression can easily take root, because the ordinary person has so little to lose.

Lastly, despite all the fear and suffering endured, it was interesting to read of what doesn’t change. Old married couples still fought and young people still sought romance. People still danced and enjoyed a drink and found pleasure in the simplest of foods. Perhaps this was the key to survival-maintaining their humanity and dignity when others lost their own. 

Special thanks to Erma Odrach for the Review Copy.

The Anonymous Novel: Sensing the Future Torments, Alessandro Barbero

Translated from the Italian by Allan Cameron


“Every person is complicated, only in novels are characters consistent, while in reality we are all a collection of contradictions, without even realizing it, because man was not made to be summarized in a formula.”

Alessandro Barbero’s novel about Russian life delves deep into the world of Moscow and Baku, yet in an extraordinary way. Rather than build on Russian stereotypes, like the underbelly of crime, excessive vodka, and jars of caviar mixed in with ruthless criminals and historical savagery, Barbero creates an entirely new type of Russian novel. Sure, those elements are present, but they aren’t the focus. The characters are complicated and new. And the provenance of this “anonymous” novel is new too.

The novel begins with a manuscript that manages to survive two literal burials in the ground. No one claims to have written it, and it’s stored an indeterminate amount of time. From then, it finally gets published. The voice of the unknown author introduces the reader to several characters in a rather short amount of time. But rather than simply describe them, he actually gets into their head, and at times we read of them in the first-person, hearing their stream-of-consciousness thoughts and intentions. Each character defies type, and all bear a bit of charm.

First is Viktor Nikolayevich Obilin, a college professor who lives alone, simply, and who makes acerbic comments about politics in Moscow. He takes ironic note of how the citizens of Moscow are insisting on government ‘transparency’ and he is aware of how dangerous transparency and the search into the past may turn out to be. For one thing, he has a student researcher, Tanya, who is doggedly pursuing her thesis about Stalinist party members in Baku in the 1940s. This is a dangerous period in Russian history, as Viktor observes “these were years you hurried over without going too far into details: you just gallop along until you get to Sputnik and Gagarin into space. Then you can breathe freely again.”

Tanya is well aware of the deception and atrocities that occurred, war crimes that have gone unpunished for many. One typical crime was when an informant rats out a colleague, has them sent to the labor camps, and then assumes their identity. Her research into Soviet party cadres has a personal connection, and nothing is going to stop her, not even the ‘old school’ hardliners that pressure her professor, Obliin, to cancel her research. “I need to know what happened, and to understand history you need to follow it through. You can’t just stop at some random moment. You need to go even beyond…” Her boyfriend Oleg, a journalist, thinks she’s going overboard.

Then there’s Mark, a struggling actor who has a bizarre hobby. Besides drinking heavily, he collects old photographs and archived documents from the SS’s files, and is writing a novel based on the connections he’s imagined between the names and dates. Then we are introduced to my favorite character, a honorable judge named Nazar Kallistratovich Lappa who is trying to restore a law and order into daily life in Moscow. At this point, just when I thought maybe I should be taking notes on all these characters, the author speaks directly to the reader: “What do I hear you saying? Yet another character! You bastard, could you try not to get lost in your own plot, and remember: sooner or later you are going to have to gather up all the various threads and make some sense of it. Listen, my impatient masters, the threads will be gathered all in good time…so trust me.”

Throughout the remainder of the novel he does indeed tie up the threads, making the story serious in the historical aspects yet with a bit of humor and irony thrown in. I can’t say enough about the way each character is built; seeing their inner thoughts as they struggle to do what is right as opposed to what is easy gives them far more depth than just describing what they said or did.

On a larger scale, outside of the plot, Barbero comments on the outsider viewpoint of Russian history, and the way it is often revealed only in an interest in the writings of Pushkin or Gogol, “history has simply become a commentary on literature.” He wants to demonstrate that only the famous writers or despicable leaders are what capture interest, rather than this complicated people who have endured decades of hardship. Look into those people, and their lives, to find the answers to the last century, he implies.

Special thanks to Vagabond Voices, Scotland for the Review Copy.

Russian Winter, Daphne Kalotay

Russian Winter is an engrossing fiction novel from Daphne Kalotay that combines personal history with notorious events in human history.  Flashbacks from Stalin-era Russia combine with the modern life of a Russian defector, Nina Revskaya, once famous as a Bolshoi ballerina.  As she enters her final years, she decides to have a Sotheby's-style auction house sell her gems...purportedly to donate the funds to the Arts.  However, it soon becomes clear that she has more personal reasons to divest of the jewelry-some of the pieces harbor memories that are too painful to hold on to. 

In the meantime, Drew, the auction house assistant, is charged with the task of determining the provenance of the pieces.  A mystery arises as a new pendant is anonymously donated...one that would appear to be linked with Nina's set.  The significance is clear:  there's more to the story than Nina is willing to reveal.  And it is the verification of the jewels history that becomes a story of assumptions and lies, and the betrayals that come as a result from them.

The story was well paced, and plot twists developed that kept the mystery going.  I also found the in-depth portrayal of the auction house's job of verifying historical jewelry fascinating.  However, I had a few issues with the substance of the novel overall.  One, I got the impression almost that a formula was being followed...'reveal this much detail at a time, then hold back, move on, and sprinkle foreshadowing liberally'.  It worked, but once completed, the novel felt a bit manipulated.  Another thing was I think the author wanted to show two powerful, independent women in action;  and yet, both women (Drew and Nina) lacked warmth and were really kind of boring.  The men in the story-Grigori and Viktor-were far more interesting and vibrant to read about.  The women seemed passive in comparison.

The flashbacks of Russia were of the most basic historical components:  poets, vodka, intellectual suppression, mysterious arrests, the ballet, corruption, and poverty.  In other words, there was nothing new added that dipped beneath a mere surface knowledge of "Russia 101."  I would have loved if the book could have added historical details that would have revealed more complexity to the characters, in the way Vasily Grossman's Everything Flows uncovered a pain that explained its character's actions with more humanity.   And yet, to someone unfamiliar with Russian history, they might find it a good introduction to the unique events of the region's history. 

               Special thanks to Katherine Beitner of Harper Collins for the Review Copy.

Fado by Andrzej Stasiuk

Translated by Bill Johnston.

Winner of the Vilenica International Literary Prize

My final impression, closing this book, was that Andrzej Stasiuk loves people. His essay collection, Fado, demonstrates this as he examines the peoples of the former Yugoslavia and the other regions that form Central Europe. In all, he writes with obvious affection for the human condition surviving in a complicated place and time. He quietly observes people and their activities: from children playing games, the routines of the working man, the women washing their steps, and the teenagers pining for escape to the West. This is not a travel journal, told by a curious visitor. Stasiuk resides there and his impressions are that much more knowledgeable and profound.


It begins with a road trip: a car driving at night in the rain, and a suggestion of mystery.  He reflects on the dark houses he passes, and how no matter what ethnic heritage a person has, they are all the same when asleep in their beds. A map is essential to reading this, as he goes to a variety of cities and recounts what he sees as well as historical details and anecdotal stories from each individual place.

Much of his writing discusses the changes from Communism to newer political states, some still in their infancy (Slovakia). The past is complicated in Central Europe, and progress is equally difficult. Of Montenegro, he writes:

“Everything that was, becomes rejected in the name of a modernity that assumes the nature of a fiction, an illusion, a devilish apparition. To a greater or lesser extent this applies to all postcommunist countries. But it’s only in Montenegro that it can all be observed within the space of ten miles.”

This battle between old traditions and new identities is a continual subject, but it remains fascinating because each town he visits handles the conflict differently. He talks about the emptiness that is felt in places, where modernization has left many without a purpose. Yet he uses almost poetic words to describe these impressions:

Of Pogradec, “Pool has taken over the town. That noble game, combining geometrical abstraction with kinetics, allows a person to forget the everyday. The men circled the tables like they were hypnotized. They moved back, moved forward, judged distances, stepped on tiptoe and held their breath as if afraid that the moving spheres would change direction and the cosmic harmony of the game would be disturbed.” It’s not difficult to see the underlying correlation with the region in finding their place in history after the divisions of Russia and Yugoslavia.

In Levoka, he observes the local police, who group together in anticipation of a rebellion by Gypsy residents. The violence never occurs, but the image of the bored policemen, playing with their police dog and throwing snowballs, reveals a truism of the place: “Brute force, tedium, and play were combined in perfect proportions, but instinct told you that any one of these three elements could take over at any moment, and for no particular reason.”

In another essay he writes about the changing of the face of paper currency throughout Russia and the Slavic states. In earlier years, the images featured working men and women in simple settings. The implied meaning being hard work garnered money. Then as years passed, the illustrations became more abstract and conceptual, until they evolved into paper faces of famous heroes. There was a political meaning behind each image, and Stasiuk shows how the meaning of money changed too.  Change occurred yet again, during difficult economic times, to another theme: “the patrons of this inflationary series were of course artists and writers. In my part of the world, when times are uncertain we usually turn to culture, since it’s a domain whose failures are not so glaring…”

Stasiuk’s ability to combine history with contemporary issues is amazing because it’s so readable, never dry or boring. He doesn’t get off track trying to make a political statement or place blame, and at times it’s difficult to even guess his position in the controversial matters he discusses. He never judges the people or even presumes to suggest a solution.  An especially fascinating scene was played out at the end of the day in Rasinari, when the cows, oxen, and goats returned from grazing loose into the village, all on their own.

“This daily parade was like a holiday. The whole village came out of its homes onto the road and watched the passage of the livestock. Children, old women in headscarves, men in small groups smoking cigarettes-everyone watched as the animals unerringly found their way to their own farms and stood by the gate waiting to be let in. This ritual had been repeated for centuries and everything in it was self-evident, complete, and in its own way perfect.”

Special thanks to Martin Riker of Dalkey Archive Press for this Review Copy.

Moscow Noir, Akashic Press

Edited by Natalia Smirnova and Julia Goumen

Note: this is not published by the Moscow Chamber of Commerce or Tourist Board.  This is not an exploration of Russian history or a guide to the city.  It is noir.  I state this because while it may be obvious to others, I kept catching myself thinking "this is so stereotypical of Russia...surely not everyone is this bad!"  Oh, back to "noir".  I needed to remind myself of that definition throughout: "crime fiction featuring hard-boiled cynical characters and bleak sleazy settings."  Once I was clear on that, it was easy to understand.

This collection of short stories is random and the stories themselves are incredibly varied.  However, a few things link most of them:  distrust, despair, revenge, and rage.  Physical similarities as well:  snow, night, black sedans, drugs, alcohol, and leather jackets. 
To say life is cheap in this style is redundant.  The Soviet history created characters that are immune to feeling and social conventions.  And if, without intending to, a character does show their softer side? It's guaranteed they aren't going to live long after.  Death is everywhere, as are traitors.  Many characters are cops. No one can be trusted because every underling knows their way to success means eliminating their superiors.  Strangely, money is often in excess, yet having it doesn't buy anyone a way out of the mess.

Many of the stories take place at night, often in the snow.  Train stations, deserted streets and subway tunnels are frequent settings, and most of the characters use drugs or alcohol to numb their emotions.  The anger that should be directed at the failed institutions that created them is instead directed at their fellow man.  The descriptions of the cold weather, the complicated facades of the empty churches standing guard, and the hard scrabble lifestyles are all detailed without slowing down the pace.  The stories move along briskly. 

The book is grouped into sections:  Crime & Punishment, Dead Souls, Fathers & Sons, and War & Peace.  I think my favorite was "Field of a Thousand Corpses" which illuminated the corruptness of the police and their inability to effectively handle the crimes they investigate in any sort of honest way.  Yet there was a sort of tenderness in how one detective tries to train another and advise him on how to fit in.

A word about Akashic Books...they have a series of Noir titles, including Los Angeles, London, etc.  All have a similar vein but illuminate a region in its own unique way.  Their Los Angeles Noir was especially interesting for me, trying to guess the locations that are mentioned since I've been there often. 

Special thanks to Johanna Ingalls of Akashic for the Advance Review Copy.

The Russian Version, Elena Fanailova, Best Translated Book, poetry

The Russian Version was recently awarded the prize for 2010 Best Translated Book Award for Poetry by Three Percent (University of Rochester), an international literary translation site (link on left sidebar). 

In most instances I avoid prologues and forewords...they usually tell me too much about the work and influence me to look at it in a often slanted light.  I tend to read more into it of another's opinion than my own reactions.  However, in this beautiful poetry collection (beautiful as in subtle and elegant), I must break from tradition and read the Introduction by Aleksandr Skidan.  It's worthwhile in that he explains some biographical details about Fanailova and also about the style of poetry that is contained herein.  It's not simply free verse or heteromorphic but a compiling of various clues from her consciousness:  random bits of pop culture, socio-political commentary, painful details of war, conflicted thoughts of family and a tiny bit of ironic humor.  It is probably the most complicated political poetry I've read, in that it isn't just commenting on Chechnya or Afghanistan but more on the Russian character as a whole:  both the stereotype and the reality.  One of her poems mentioned Gogol, and having confused him with Pushkin and Chekhov I have to look him up, so I googled Gogol (!) and the first sentence I saw was that he "says something very essential about the Russian character";  in this she seems to dispute what typifies the Russian persona.

Additionally, another key factor to most enjoy these selections is to go to the back and read her text notes on each section (and these are excerpts, portions of other books and works).  These illuminate details that may be foreign to many Western readers.  For example, in "Freud and Korczak", she explains that the Korczak was a Polish pediatrician who remained with his young Jewish patients in the Warsaw ghetto, though it cost him his life.  The poem talks about the meaningless of murder, the irony of how insignificant a single murder can seem, and yet how a magnificent tool, capable of so much fine workmanship, ends up being a tool of destruction on a massive scale.  It concludes with the question "Why War?", which Fanailova remarks is the name given to letters exchanged between Einstein and Freud, which leads to further meditation on how perplexed those great minds were by the same things that confuse us now.

One of the most revealing selections is her explanation for her one of the poems "Again they're off for their Afghanistan", where she describes a chance meeting with the couple that it is based upon, and how "the whole course and mechanism of this conversation call for a kind of opening of a window in time, and through this window the draft of the eighties begins to blow.  The details, taste, and feel of the time all had to be captured, whenever possible, without distortion....The sense of violence is the main thing that I remember about this era; this sense permeated all entertainments, pleasures, sensations and feelings, not to speak of work...They speak about monstrous things in a rather ordinary way, even with some animation, because it is their youth they are referring to."  Given that my grasp of the eighties was big hair and Duran Duran, I feel shamed for my ignorance. 

A favorite passage:
Recall:  how fine it is to embrace your beloved
Shirking all responsibility.
Love will change with age,
Become even more magnificent,
Maybe more tender, or perhaps more combustible.
Try to stick around long enough for this.

These aren't easy or pretty;  they require some meditation and perhaps further research.  This selection is not for the masses but for those willing to journey somewhere outside their realm of comfort, and who would undoubtedly return richer for the experience.  I'm not going to pretend I understand every reference, or even every poem.  Some made me laugh in places I wasn't sure was appropriate ("Black Suits").  I hope to enjoy this collection and get more out of it as I return to it.

Special thanks to Ugly Duckling Presse for the Advanced Review Copy.