Simon Ings “The Weight of Numbers” – Finished 6/4/10

- Three lives are interwoven, following the first moon landing, a civil war in Africa, and human trafficking.

- This is one of those “sweeping novels” in which a lot of words are written and characters developed, but no real story takes place. Of course, all the people and events are somehow connected, and this is done very cleverly. Of course, the story bounces back and forth through time, not via flashbacks or dialogued story-telling, but just by starting each chapter with the date in which it takes place. Different chapters are written in different points of view, which seems like talented writing, but is really just a clever truck to help the reader keep track of the characters more easily. The blurb on the back suggests that some element of science and numbers exists throughout, but I couldn’t find it (which doesn’t mean it isn’t there). The writing really is engaging, and the plot lie and interweaving of characters is swell though-out and engaging. It is such a shame that contemporary fiction relies on the notion of clever word-play, instead of good, solid story-telling, the emphasis has become how to be clever and original. Which is fine if done well, but in this case, and excellent writer doesn’t guarantee and excellently written book. I will give Ings another chance, but I don’t recommend this book.

- And yet, almost a year later, not only have I not given Ings another chance, I haven’t even thought of him, looked for other books, or even thought to myself, I wonder what good ole Ings is up to these days. I don’t even remember this book. Enough said.

Mikhail Zushchenko, Sidney Monaas, trans. “Scenes From the Bathhouse and Other Stories of Communist Russia” – Finished 5/27/10

- Short stories from one of early Soviet literature’s finest.

- These satirical pieces actually do invoke laughter in the reader. The failure and bumbling nature of Soviet bureaucracy are common themes in Soviet literature, but Zoshchenko has a satirical tilt that most authors can’t reach. Having so many short pieces, it can be difficult to appreciate each one individually, and there is a sense of getting the gist without appreciating the details. Zoshchenko’s novella, that is really an autobiography, is actually really disappointing, and one can understand why he was not asked to finish it, and how it signaled the end of his career. Yet, his narrative voice and ability to satirize in few words make him one of the Masters of the genre.

- This was a lucky find, as I had never heard of Zoshchenko before I found this book – in the Russian History section of our used book store. It is always a pleasure to find a new author when you run into him/her accidentally, instead of going to the shelves with a list of authors in hand.

Haruki Murakami “Underground: The Tokyo Gas Attack and the Japanese Psyche” – Finished 5/21/10

- Murakami interviewed as many survivors of the 1995 Tokyo Sarin gas attack as he could, and in part two interviewed members of the cult that perpetrated the worst homegrown terrorist attack in Japanese history.

- Murakami is careful to keep his own voice out of these interviews. The victims tell their stories for different reasons: some to find closure, others to make sure the event is never forgotten. All of them leave a mark on the psyche of the reader, who almost gets overwhelmed reliving these terrifying moments over and over again through different eyes. Unfortunately, Murakami spends more time with the cult leaders than with the victims, but this is because he only wanted to tell the victims’ stories of that day, whereas, to understand the cult member takes more time. Those lonely people also tell varying, fascinating stories. Finally, Murakami tries to explain the Japanese psyche: a struggle that only becomes more difficult after reading about these events.

- This book stuck with me long after I finished reading it. As I take the bus to work every day, I found myself becoming just the smallest bit hyper-alert, ready not only to escape and save as many people as possible, but also trying to be prepared to identify the smell of Sarin gas and notice any suspicious people. It is odd how one can find oneself so enveloped in this book as to feel a part of the story. Murakami does an excellent job of letting this book be about the victims, something that was important to him. I imagine it was difficult to convince so many people that he was trying to do right by them, to uncover something about the Japanese people without exploiting their tragedies. And, of course he suffers from a Western tendency to spend more time with the criminals than the victims. But that can be forgiven if one looks past the individuals, tries to see the collective, tries to somehow make some sense out of tragedy. Not in some cloying, god-has-a-reason, justification-in-the-face-of-immense-evil way that the American Christian movement tries to do, but in a genuine, calm, introspective way. This is another critical historic piece that demands the reader dig a little deeper, do a little extra research, and reach his/her own conclusions. Murakami talks about the Japanese psyche, but people of almost all nations have experienced some form of terrorism, and this book becomes more about the human psyche, whether Murakami intended it that way or not.

Ivan Turgenev, Elizabeth Cheresh Allen, ed. “Fathers and Sons” – Finished 5/12/10

- In late 1800s Russia, during the Serf reformations, two young men go back to their families on their estates and struggle with love, friendship, politics, and nihilism.

- Turgenev was the first to use the term “nihilism,” and he captures the philosophy well in the character of Bazarov, a doctor-in-training who verbally battles with anyone who will challenge him. A slew of characters appear throughout the novel, and the budding loves are a little obvious in contemporary America. But the characters as ideals hold up well throughout the novel. At times it is hard to tell who the main character is, but Bazarov stands out as the obvious choice, given his politics. Some of this novel relies on the reader’s knowledge of the emancipation of the serfs, and this backdrop is almost essential to really grasp the novel (apparently, I assume I have), and yet each character is written with so much earnest, individual emotion that one can almost feel the love, the loneliness, the disgust and the curiosity that each character portrays.

-I keep coming back to Turgenev, he is one of my favorite Russian authors, yet he is also one that I understand the least. His writing captures a picturesque rural Russia for which I feel I somehow feel nostalgic. I think Turgenev uses his characters much as Dostoyevsky does, as ideas that run into each other, each its own complete idea. The title is appropriate, as much of this novel pitches the Old Guard against the new. There is a palpable disgust for Bazarov, though he does not do anything particularly disgusting. He merely represents the new generation, the disrespectful youth that follows a philosophy counter to his fathers. This novel can be enjoyed simply as a tale of turn-of-the-last-century Russia, but it should also be absorbed, revisited, as an excellent example of the constant battles between the generations. No winners or losers will ever be declared, and even Bazarov will grow up to face a counter-culture for which his philosophy could not possibly prepare him.

Albert Camus “The Fall” – Finished 5/4/10

- The narrator meets another French expatriate and explains what he is doing in a foreign land after leaving France following a traumatic incident that challenges his notions of right and wrong, guilt and innocence.

- It’s Camus, so I know there is a philosophy underlying this novel. I would never claim to be an expert on Camus’ philosophy, so I won’t try to write about this piece in that context. Technically, the book suffers from its unconventional narrational tone: it is a first-person monologue. The reader knows that the narrator is talking to someone else, so the narrator asks a question and then has to say something so the reader knows what the other person said (something like, “What’s that? You’re hungry? What would you like to eat? Fish?”). I think it suffers because Camus doesn’t want to give a voice to this other person, so the foil character is taken away. I feel like he does this so the reader becomes this other character to whom the narrator is speaking. So it mostly works, but I as a reader was keenly aware of this convention. It was like having the “fourth wall” of a movie broken when a character looks into the camera and addresses the audience in the theater.
Altruism is one of the themes of the book, and I know Camus speaks to altruism in his philosophy, but the character’s feelings towards it is refreshing. He doesn’t specifically talk about that word, but he makes it clear that he does not do anything out of any moral imperative. His confession (because that is what this really is) is subtle but thought-inducing, and the title of this book is given several different meanings. Camus was a master at putting his philosophy in an understandable context without being preachy. Whether one sympathizes with the narrator or not, one is confronted with a thought-provoking outlook on life that every reader will address within him- or herself.

I wish I knew more about Camus’ philosophy, I only have a general understanding of the notion of nihilism, and I only really know of Camus’ thoughts from reading “The Plague” and studying it under Father Burshek in high school. Of course there were times in my adolescence where I claimed Nihilism as my philosophy, but that was before I was introspectively trying to apply it to my belief system. Having the opportunity to think more about it, I can easily say that I understand it even less than I did back then. Which is why reading a novel like this one at 30 is important, because it helps me to re-evaluate my thoughts on the philosophy. Though my Sara and I have had a debate or two on the existence if altruism, I think that comes from a more personal definition of altruism, and a book like this requires much more thought and criticism before it can really become part of my belief system. Having said all that, this novel is worth reading, just for the end, regardless of how it affects the reader’s personal philosophy.

Nikola Bukharin “How It All Began” – Finished 5/2/10

- A fictional account of a boy growing up in the late 1800s in Russia, coming of age during the Revolution,

- Bukharin was one of the top leaders of the Soviet Union during its infancy, and he was arrested under Stalin’s reign. This fiction was one of 4 books he wrote while in prison. Though this is technically fiction, it is really a memoir, but Stalin would never have let Bukharin write real memoirs. In fact, that Bukharin was even allowed pen & paper, or that Stalin kept the text, is amazing. Bukharin really thought that Stalin would pass this text on to Bukharin’s wife and father (whom he hoped could clean up the text), but, though Stalin did not destroy the text, he never made it available. It was not even discovered until the Soviet Union started to collapse. Bukharin was one of those victims of the Stalin pogroms who was later “rehabilitated.”
With that brief history in mind, this novel becomes more exceptional than if it had been written by a professional novelist. The writing is somewhat strained, with too many exclamation marks, and awkward character development. Each chapter is more like an independent moment, the link being the characters. This is exactly how a memoir is written, so it is important to keep that in mind while reading. Another key element is that Bukharin did not have the luxury of all the paper or time he really wanted: this really is a first draft with no room for edits. So, when one reads the poems that are quoted, for example, they are additionally amazing because we know that Bukharin was quoting them from memory.
The introduction makes an interesting point, that Bukharin needed to write this so that, in the future, people would know who he really was, what he really stood for in the Soviet Party, since he had to “admit” his “guilt” in the show trials. Two chapters do an amazing job of reminding people of the debates between the Bolsheviks & Mensheviks, of showing the philosophies of the Party and the subtle differences between the two factions.
To sum up, as a stand-alone novel, this isn’t the best-written piece of fiction, but given all the context surrounding it, it becomes an excellent window into the world of a turn-of-the-century, soon-to-be leader of the Party. The novel ends (truncates eerily) before the first Revolution, but still reminds us of the strikes and burgeoning frustrations of the People. It does make one want to read the second half, if only Bukharin had been allowed to live long enough to write it.

I don’t have much to add at this point, except to re-emphasize the eeriness of this novel. That Bukharin knew he would not be remembered for who he was, but rather for what Stalin said he was, and that this was his only hope to cry out from the prisons to tell people about his passion for the Party, for the People, and for his country, is striking. It makes one wonder how many people wrote about this whose voices have never been heard. And it makes it even more important to read this novel to know the kinds of good intentions members of the Soviet Party had, that were twisted and maligned in order for Stalin to keep a strangle-hold on his power.

Yury Olesha “Envy” – Finished 4/21/10

- Kavaterov finds himself in the home of Babichev, the head of a Soviet food industry co-op. Babichev’s brother has an odd rivalry with Babichev, and Kavaterov finds himself caught in the middle, planning revenge.

- The Introduction mentions that ’20s Soviets considered this either a novel of submerged homosexuality, or a 20th Century “Notes from Underground.” I see both of those elements here, but I don’t think either of them are what this novel is “about.” Obviously, envy is an element, but that isn’t specific enough. Of what is Kavaterov envious? Or is the novel even really about Kavaterov? What about Ivan Babichev? Clearly Olesha is dealing with the discomfort that came to Russia after the Civil War. Battles are waged between the Old Guard and the New Society, and also between nature and technology, between age and youth, between rich and poor. Plenty of people to feel envy to go around.
Olesha is clearly a Pre-Socialist Realism Soviet writer, with that 1920′s feel. He is also one of the gateway authors to the Absurdism and Avant-Garde art that followed. An excellent novel standing alone, “Envy” also answers some questions and gives plenty to think about concerning the Soviet 1920s.

I wish I could elucidate a bit more on my thoughts at the time I finished this novel, but I really do not remember a single thing about this novel. I know historically that it is an important novel of the era, but I can’t really say why. nine months after finishing it, it has made no lasting impression on me. You’re on your own to read this one…

Vladimir Dudintsey “Not By Bread Alone” – Finished 4/16/10

- A teacher-turned-inventor struggles through 1940′s Soviet bureaucracy in an attempt to get his pipe invention made, while dodging and seeking love.

- An element of Soviet Realism clearly exists in this novel: a centrifugal pipe-making machine that is both fast and efficient enough that more workers would have more time to think a create dominates one man’s mind, and the cast of characters all want to invent and create such things. It is hard to glorify making pipes. A bit of Pasternak’s style of love story can also be found, but here, too, the women truly care about this pipe machine because f its creator. Of course bureaucracy will be a central theme in a Russian novel, but in this case it is not so much a satire or social commentary: the people in the bureaucracy have names and faces and emotions that lead them to create the red tape. This novel doesn’t call out the Soviet system or the leaders (in fact, Communism is mentioned less than 5 times), it calls out the people who knew how to manipulate that system. Throw in some time in the Gulag, and you have one more exceptional Soviet novel.

To make pipe-making heroic is a difficult task, but we are talking about a system in which making Concrete patriotic was the norm. Because of the emotions and conflicts between human characters, the Soviet Realism of this novel is rendered much less tedious. Surprisingly, one can see almost an Ayn Rand-ian element of the main character, who will stop at nothing to be successful, who convinces others around him to believe in him unconditionally, and who shows that, without him, there can be no real success in the Soviet pipe-making industry, an industry so important to making the Soviet Union successful. The main character is required to overcome several obstacles, and this becomes more important than the actual invention itself. The main character and the reader know that this invention is the best, most successful one, so no real conflict exists there.

God, Moses, ed. “Exodus” – Finished 4/11/10

Sergei Alexeyev “Russian History in Tales” – Finished 4/5/10

- An illustrated children’s book covering the history of Russia from the 1600s through World War II in short tales to make the history easier for children to understand.

- Propaganda and a lot of exclamation marks, but a good view of how Soviet history was treat in Russian 1970s. Good for history and for context.

Another book at our favorite used book store that my Sara convinced me not to put back on the shelf. I did read a couple of good little fables, and a few Soviet heroes about whom I’d never heard. This book, which looks a lot like a text book, and beautiful to hold, is filled with little watercolor images painted into the margins. It is an earnest collection, and one that deserves to be read, if not taken entirely seriously.