I didn’t know Sharov well but I’ve enjoyed talking with him
at literary and translation events in Moscow and New York. Beyond speaking
eloquently about his books, he was warm, quietly funny, and almost otherworldly.
Those qualities – plus an on-the-page version of the twinkle in his eye – somehow
come through in his writing, too, bringing a human touch to fiction that can be
very dense, often with little dialogue. Sharov was also gracious and generous,
giving me an extra copy of a thick collection of Platonov’s letters when I told
him I’d translated a Platonov story.
I’ll be writing more about Sharov and his Rehearsals this fall. I’ve heard much (very
lavish) praise for The Rehearsals among
Russian friends who read a lot of contemporary fiction but I think I’m failing the
book because my memories from Russian history courses are now so hazy and my religious
background has always been worse than slipshod. Despite not making those big picture connections, I love the theatricality in The Rehearsals, the plot possibilities
of a Second Coming are appealing, I sense Sharov’s twinkling eye in the humor, and
Oliver’s translation both reads very well and compares beautifully with the Russian
book, which Sharov was kind enough to give to me after we participated in a roundtable
discussion at the Brooklyn Public Library. That’s a fair bit but my gaping knowledge
gaps mean I can’t appreciate the book properly, particularly given the fact
that I feel like I’m still (very, very slowly) finding my way around Sharov’s
world, a place that’s wildly different from what I find in most of the books I read. Finding
my way around that world feels all the more important to me now, so I’m looking
at some remedial reading as a way to continue learning from Sharov. I’m grateful to him for our conversations and will very much miss seeing him when I visit Moscow next month.
Disclaimers: The usual.
Thank you to Dedalus Books for a review copy of The Rehearsals. The Dedalus
page about the book includes lengthy excerpts from reviews; the reviews by
Michael Orthofer and Jamie Rann very aptly get at the novel’s rewards.
Thanks for this post, Lisa! I am awed and envious that you knew Vladimir Sharov on a personal level - I met him only once and quite peripherally. I'm struck, however, that we both noted that twinkle: as you write, "he was warm, quietly funny, and almost otherworldly. Those qualities – plus an on-the-page version of the twinkle in his eye...". Also, this seems like the moment to thank you for all your wonderful blog posts on contemporary literature. When I was book shopping last week with limited time and luggage space, I used your blog as a guide to which authors I should prioritize! Looking forward to your next posts on Sharov and others.
ReplyDeleteRussian Dinosaur, I'm not sure how I missed your comment! (The last month has been hectic but I usually receive notifications of comments, though it does seem like something has gone awry with those messages.)
DeleteI didn't know Sharov very well but I always enjoyed seeing him -- there was something about him that inspired tremendous fondness.
And thank you for the kind words about the blog, I'm hoping it helped you overload your luggage! :)