Yet More Russian Literary Awards

Two days. Three announcements about Russian literary awards. I’ll take them in order:

Olga Slavnikova, the 2006 Booker Prize winner, won the Kazakov prize for the short story “Сёстры Черепановы.” Slavnikova’s 2017, which won the Booker, has already been translated into English, according to translator Marian Schwartz’s Web site, but is “not yet under contract.” In the meantime, Schwartz’s English translation of an excerpt from Slavnikova’s Бессмертный (The Man Who Wouldn’t Die), a book with themes similar to those in Goodbye, Lenin!, is available on Words Without Borders.

Next up: Daniil Granin won the St. Andrei Pervozvannyi Order. According to Lenta.ru, Granin turned 90 on January 1, 2009, and the award is one of the highest given by the Russian government. I’ve only read a bit of Granin so can’t recommend anything, but I was pleasantly surprised to learn that several of his books have been translated into English and German.

Finally, today, I noticed an announcement listing six nominees for the Belkin Prize. They include Margarita Khemlin, who was nominated for the Big Book Award last year; Marina Palei, who is also no stranger to literary short lists; and actor Sergei Iurskii (Yursky), whom I have seen on stage and screen (he’s quite a presence!) but never read. This post on Lenta.ru contains the list of nominees plus links to most of the nominated works.

And one slightly off-topic note. Lenta.ru also reported the death of John Updike. I thank him for many memorable and enjoyable hours of reading. I associate Russia and Updike because he’s so well-known there… I borrowed the Rabbit trilogy from a Russian friend when I lived in Moscow. And another Russian friend loves The Centaur so much that I asked Updike to sign a copy for her when I went to a reading in Boston. 

Olga Slavnikova on Amazon

Daniil Granin on Amazon
John Updike on Amazon

“War and Peace”: The Soirée

I’d never truly enjoyed the first 20 or so pages of Lev Tolstoy’s Война и мир (War and Peace) until this, my fourth, reading. With its mix of French and Russian, introductions to many characters, and numerous references to French history, the beginning of the book can feel pretty overwhelming.

One strategy for handling the first pages is to choose a thread or two to follow. If French history is your thing, focus on those references. If you prefer character development and relationships, watch those. And don’t panic if you don’t love the soirée scenes: I never have, either, but I’ve always engaged with the book quite nicely after the party breaks up.

That said, I found myself enjoying the soirée this time around, perhaps because I focused on many of the themes Tolstoy weaves into the book. They include:

Naturalness and Artificiality – Throughout the novel, Tolstoy contrasts stage-like and natural behaviors. In the first chapter he presents a nervous, party-managing hostess, Anna Pavlovna, with the awkward, outspoken Pierre. Smiles tell a lot about the people: the lovely Ellen, for example, never stops smiling but Pierre alone, making his debut in society, has a genuine smile that is childlike and kind.

Making and Interpreting History – Anna Pavlovna speaks in the first section of the book about Russia’s potential as a savior of Europe. Tolstoy writes a great deal in War and Peace about history, its participants, and its interpretations. The book includes essays on history, and War and Peace’s fictional chapters echo many of the essays’ themes, particularly the roles of generals, soldiers, and chance. One telling little episode related to history: in Part I, section V, Pierre plops himself on a couch at Prince Andrei’s, takes Caesar’s Commentaries off a shelf, and begins reading the book in the middle.

The Narrator – War and Peace’s narrator includes a few comments that look back in time, placing events within the context of history: Anna Pavlovna’s use of the word грипп (grippe) was new at the time, Prince Vasilii speaks in the French that наши деды (our grandfathers) spoke and thought in, and the lovely Ellen is dressed in accordance with the fashion of the time. The narrator’s voice will, of course, become particularly forceful in the essays on history.

Further Reading on War and Peace:

I’ll occasionally include a link or suggestion on other readings related to War and Peace. I’ll start with a link to a favorite blog, languagehat. Languagehat has been reading War and Peace in Russian and has written some excellent posts about vocabulary and Tolstoy’s use of language.

All languagehat posts with key term “war and peace”

My favorite of the posts (thus far!), about Tolstoy’s use of repetition

War and Peace on Amazon

Selected Short Stories

I had a unusual and strange urge to read short stories last week… I probably needed to work something out of my system before reading War and Peace.

I began with some political stories by Iulii Daniel (a.k.a. Nikolai Arzhak), a dissident writer who, in 1966, was sentenced to five years of hard labor for publishing stories in the West. Daniel was tried together with Andrei Siniavskii (a.k.a. Abram Tertz). Few editions of Daniel’s writing seem to have been published in Russia since perestroika; I was lucky to find one when I lived in Mosow. Daniel’s work is available in English translation.

I began with a reread: “Человек из МИНАПа” (“The Man from MINAP”). The story concerns a man who claims he can determine the gender of his children by thinking special thoughts (I won’t say what) whilst having sex. I have funny memories of reading the story 20 years ago because our teacher censored certain words. When I confronted her with that fact – and the expurgated words, which I found in a library book – in class, she told me I was too curious, “настоящая дочка Евы” (“a true daughter of Eve”). This time around, the story felt most interesting for its picture of how Soviet institutions handled the man’s talents.

Next up was the title story of Daniel/Arzhak’s collection, “Говорит Москва” (“This Is Moscow Speaking”). The story is named for a line used by radio announcers. In this case, the announcer tells listeners about an upcoming “day of open murders,” a special day that the narrator says fits right along with Artillery Day and Day of Soviet Press. As the narrator says: “Транспорт работает, милицию трогать не велено – значит порядок будет.” (“Public transportation works, the police are ordered not to touch – that means there will be order.”) There are lots of funny lines in the story (“provincial Hamletism” sticks with me, too), though I thought Daniel was most effective in showing characters’ reactions to the “holiday” and the larger meaning of the fear it engendered.

“Искупление” (“Atonement”) felt even more dangerous: a rakish narrator, Viktor, is accused of informing on an old acquaintance, resulting in his arrest and a sentence in prison camp. The acquaintance wants Viktor to suffer, too, so orders him to leave town and never marry. This story about guilt – both collective and individual – blends Soviet-era sociopolitical themes with love. The content makes “Atonement” politically treacherous but it also feels artistically risky, thanks to Daniel’s energetic writing style and a harsh ending. I think it succeeds.

For a change of era, I reread the first story in a collection of Anton Chekhov’s works: “Ионыч” (“Ionych”). Though Chekhov’s simple, clear style feels as comfortable as old slippers, his characters made me even more uncomfortable and sad than Daniel’s. We know these people, particularly the title character, a porcine, money-hungry provincial doctor who becomes a “pagan god” whose only joy is a lost love.

Sigh. I love Chekhov’s clarity and clean writing but I’m ready for the happy chaos of War and Peace. 

Yuly Daniel on Amazon

Special Note to Subscribers -- Feed Change!

Dear Subscribers,

I plan to move my blog feed today from Feedburner to Google. Google is forcing this transition and claims feed transfers should be seamless... Theoretically, you won't notice anything. You should continue to receive my blog posts in your e-mail account or feed reader of choice. 

I hope so! 

This will be a busy weekend at the bookshelf, so it will be easy to know if anything goes amiss. I'll be posting later today about a few short stories, and my War and Peace series begins tomorrow. I'll add a note to this post later today, with new feed details so you can resubscribe, if anything gets lost. 

Thank you very much for subscribing to my blog's feed. I appreciate your readership and comments! 

L. 

Edit: If you need to resubscribe, you can use this link:

http://feeds2.feedburner.com/LizoksBookshelf

"Oh, Shabbat!" Reads Well on Any Day of the Week

Gefilte fish. I can’t stop thinking about gefilte fish after reading Dina Kalinovskaia’s (Kalinovskaya) novella О суббота! (Oh, Shabbat!).

Oh, Shabbat! is a lovely, little-known book about a visit to Odessa from a prodigal, Grisha, who immigrated to the United States decades ago, leaving behind his family, falling out of touch, and causing some hard feelings. Kalinovskaia had a true ability to capture, in very few pages, the humor and sadness of life when she wrote about meetings and partings, both temporary and permanent.

My favorite scene in Oh, Shabbat! doesn’t sound like much... It takes place at a dinner in Grisha’s honor, a dinner for which a woman named Revekka has made gefilte fish. Revekka’s husband, Saul, is seated next to their grandson’s girlfriend. She doesn’t eat the gefilte fish or the crooked chicken neck she receives later, and Saul realizes the young woman is pregnant. First he tells her he loves bread and, yes, pickles, then he invites her to the kitchen, where he fries potatoes for her.

I could eat fried potatoes every night of the week, so it’s tempting to think that scene got me because of the food, but Saul’s sensitivity is far tastier. I love Kalinovskaia’s many accounts of loving, familial bickering: this is a “you’ll laugh, you’ll cry” kind of book that shows great compassion for people and their shortcomings. This dense little book reads easily, so I already want to reread it, to absorb more of the humor, the Odessan setting and language, and the people themselves.

I am sorry to report that Oh, Shabbat! has not been translated into English. It was originally published in the Soviet journal Дружба народов (Friendship of Peoples) in 1980 and was not reprinted until 2007, in the “Prose of Jewish Life” series from a Moscow publisher, Текст (Text). 

Carp photo courtesy of onemhz, via stock.xchng

Gefilte fish recipes welcome.