Archive for April, 2008

The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini

My first stop around the world for the Orbis Terrarum Challenge was in Afghanistan (though it is not the first book I am reviewing for that challenge). It is also my third book for the Eponymous Reading Challenge. As I expected, I finished The Kite Runner in three days. Couldn’t make it in less because of work and some other obligations.

Amir and Hassan grow up together in 1970s Afghanistan. Hassan is the son of the servant of Amir and his father and a Hazara, while Amir is a Pashtun. Hassan is devoted to Amir, but Amir is unable (or maybe also unwilling in a way) to look past their different status and origins (the Pashtun being a more powerful tribe/people in Afghanistan) and recognize the relationship for what it really is: a friendship.

This all changes radically one day, when Amir watches how Hassan is getting raped by the neighborhood bully (well, bully migh actually be an understatement). I don’t think mentioning this is much of a spoiler, after all the attention given to the movie and in particular to the Afghan boys playing Amir and Hassan, who had to flee Afghanistan before the release of the movie, because of the rape-scene in the movie.

After the invasion of Afghanistan by the Soviet Union in 1979, Amir and his father emigrate to the US, where they have to build up a whole new life. By that time Hassan and his father have already disappeared from Amir’s life. Amir grows up, graduates, gets married, and becomes a writer. Then, in 2001 he gets a phone call that sends him back to Afghanistan to confront his past.

The book touches on a lot of issues: identity, father-son relationships, immigration, adoption, lost childhood, but the main themes of the book are redemption and how one choice can define a person and change one’s entire life.

After finishing the book, I was most curious about the fate of little Sohrab. Those who have read the book, will probably know  I hope that Hosseini will some day write a sequel from Sohrab’s point of view or with him as the main character.

Especially in the second part of the book, the storyline gets a bit predictable. But Khaled Hosseini still managed to keep my attention and I did want to keep on reading. Actually, for me story came in waves, the first part grabbed me, then it had me losing my attention some and thinking “I hope it will get better again”. More or less at that point, the story’s pace went up again, and it took me with it fast. Then, towards the end, the pace slowed down again, but this time not in an annoying way. It fitted the story just fine at that point.

I loved the book, Hosseini is a great storyteller and drags you right in. However, I found it not nearly as good as A Thousand Splendid Suns. There were parts where I was just as sucked in to The Kite Runner as I was in the other book, but there were just as many parts that I read very detachedly.

I didn’t connect to the characters in The Kite Runner like I did with Laila and Mariam in A Thousand Splendid Suns. Maybe because Laila and Mariam are women, maybe because what Amir did was morally wrong (but somehow in a way understandable at the same time). A Thousand Splendid Suns just wouldn’t let me go, I couldn’t put the book away, because I wanted to know what would happen next, and I was left thinking about the book for days afterwards. The Kite Runner was relatively easier to put away both during the reading and afterwards.

But you know what? The Kite Runner was Khaled Hosseini’s first novel, A Thousand Splendid Suns his second. If Hosseini keeps the pattern going, that puts the bar for his third novel very high.;-)

My review of A Thousand Splendid Suns is here. Incidentally, according to my stats page, it is by far the most viewed post of my blog: about twice as popular as the second most popular post.

The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency by Alexander McCall Smith

I spent a couple of comfortable and entertaining evenings last week with Mma Precious Ramotswe in Botswana. The series about the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency by Alexander McCall Smith had been on my wishlist for quite some time, because I kept hearing so many good things about it.

Then last week as it happened, I couldn’t control myself any longer and I wandered off to the only bookstore in Yerevan that has a small, but nice collection of contemporary literature in English. I came out with The Complete Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi (also one that had been on my wishlist for a long time) and the first part in the series about Mma Ramotswe. There were a couple of other books I would have taken with me as well, if the problem with this bookstore weren’t the prices they charge: they are always higher than the original prices in US dollars and even higher than the prices I would pay for the same edition back in Holland. So you can understand I don’t splurge there too often, and if I do it’s only on books that I really, really, really do want to read.

Back to The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency. I started it the same evening I bought it, because it felt like exactly what I needed after reading a lot of non-fiction and of fiction laden with “difficult” themes. I was in for something cozy and easy. That is exactly what I got and I loved it.

After her father’s death, Precious Ramotswe sets up the first detective agency led by a woman in Botswana. Precious, or Mma Ramotswe as she is usually called, is a very likable person: an independent, happily unmarried woman, with common sense, compassion and wit, who deeply loves her country and Africa.

The book is not centered around one big mystery, but in the course of the book Mma Ramotswe solves several smaller problems for her clients: she finds out what happened to a missing husband, she returns a stolen car, uncovers a fake father. In between Mma Ramotswe gets a couple of marriage proposals. I had a great time with Mma Ramotswe driving around Gabarone and the countryside of Botswana in her little white van solving smaller and bigger problems. I was smiling often and finished the book with a smile as well.

I will certainly pick up more of this series and others books by Alexander McCall Smith as well, if I have the chance (the same bookstore currently also has number 2 in the series of The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency; I might have to restrain myself…). Apart from the thoroughly likable main character, the book was simply well written, with charm and love for the subject and the setting. I won’t read them close together, though: I feel that too much of Mma Ramotswe will lead to an overkill and will take the charm of the series away from me. But the books of Alexander McCall Smith have been added to my list of comfort books, when I feel like reading something entertaining and light.

I am adding this book to my Orbis Terrarum reading list and letting it replace the Orhan Pamuk one.

Black Dog of Fate by Peter Balakian

Today is April 24, Genocide Memorial Day for Armenians worldwide. Here in Armenia it is a day off on which hundreds of thousands of people visit the Genocide Memorial here in Yerevan to lay flowers near the eternal flame.

On April 24 the systematical slaughter of up to one and a half million Armenians during World War I in what is now Turkey (at that time still the Ottoman Empire) is remembered. Up to this moment Turkey is steadfastly denying that this was a genocide, a planned attempt at wiping out the Armenian people. Turkey maintains that the amount of people killed was much lower and that dislocation of hundreds of thousands of Armenians (read: forced marches on foot into the desert without food with plundering, rape and murder on the way) was a necessary security measure.

Genocide Memorial Yerevan

Tsitsernakaberd (Genocide Memorial), Yerevan, Republic of Armenia © Onnik Krikorian / Hetq Online 2006
Picture taken from One World Multimedia Blog

Black Dog of Fate by Peter Balakian is a memoir by the descendant of Genocide survivors who ended up in the US. Black Dog of Fate consists of several storylines, which are not always very sharply separated and partly intertwine. The first half or so of the book consists of Balakian’s memoirs growing up in suburbia in New jersey in the 1950s and 1960s (Balakian was born in 1951). He grew up knowing he was Armenian, but not knowing anything about the history of his people, let alone why and how they ended up in the US. He was in most ways your average all-American boy, playing ball in the park, playing on the high school American football team, making out with girls in the backseat of the car, rebelling against his parents as a teenager.

No matter how much on the outside his parents and his family seemed integrated into the American lifestyle, inside their house some things were very different. The role of food, for example. Where all Peter’s friends were served instant and deep-frozen dinners that were eaten in five minutes, dinner at the Balakian’s was a family affair that took time and consisted of several homemade dishes. And then there were the Sunday gatherings of relatives at the Balakian’s or Peter’s aunts. These gatherings lasted for hours and Armenian food was an important part of them.

Then there was Peter’s grandmother who doted on him, her eldest grandson. From time to time, out of the blue, she would tell Peter a snippet of her memories, a story, things that remained unconnected and that Peter didn’t understood at all throughout his youth.

This first part of the book goes above and beyond being specifically a memoir of an Armenian youth in the US. It can in many ways be read as the history of an immigrant childhood in the US, maneuvering between being American and keeping one’s ethnic heritage.

In his twenties Peter becomes aware of his heritage, of what happened to Armenians in the Ottoman Empire during World War I and of how his own relatives escaped the Genocide and ended up in the US. His family’s history forms the second storyline in the book. The third is a more general history of the Armenian Genocide mixed with Balakian’s raising awareness of it. It also covers Turkish continuous attempts at denying the Genocide.

This was a book that I had wanted to read for years, but couldn’t find anywhere in Dutch bookstores (we are talking pre-Amazon here). So when last year I stumble across a copy in the one decent English language bookstore in Yerevan, I grabbed it. I am glad I did. I loved the book, it is extremely well written, it kept my attention just as much this second time around (I first read it last summer after I bought it).

I highly recommend Black Dog of Fate to anyone interested in Armenia and in immigrant life in the US. Especially for those who don’t know much about the Armenian Genocide, this book makes a very good introduction.

Peter Balakian is now a poet and scholar. He also wrote The Burning Tigris: The Armenian Genocide and America’s Response, which is, though obviously more scholarly than his memoirs, still very readable.

You can read the first chapter from Black Dog of Fate here and another excerpt here.

Generations of Winter by Vassily Aksyonov

Generations of Winter by Vassily Aksyonov

Generations of Winter is a family history set in the Soviet Union spanning about twenty years, from 1925 till 1945 – the Stalinist era. I know, you’re all thinking: “There she goes again, another book about Stalinist Russia.” I admit, I am a bit on a Stalinist reading spree. That is coincidence, I am not doing it on purpose, though I do generally read a lot about Eastern Europe anyway. Somehow over the past year or so, I gathered a couple of books through which Joseph Stalin runs like a read thread. All these books are so far turning out to be excellent reads, Generations of Winter as well. This was a book that I had been trying to find in Dutch translation for years, but never could. A Dutch translation appeared at some point, but I guess it wasn’t reprinted or something. Then some time last year I found out that an English translation is available in paperback. So that eventually ended up on my bookshelves.

The book tells the history of the Gradov family, Mary and Boris Gradov and their three children. Over time the children’s spouses and children also enter the saga. Boris Gradov is one of the top surgeons in the Soviet Union and regularly counts the Communist Party’s leaders and the country’s leaders among his patients. He has to make some tough moral choices about the extent to which he will participate in the intrigues among the country’s leaders to save his career and life. Mary is his Georgian wife. Their oldest son Nikita moves up the army’s career rank unusually fast, until he is arrested and sent to the Gulag during the purges of the 1930s. Their daughter Nina is a poetry writer and is drawn to both ideological Party workers of the very wrong type and to a circle of poets. Over time her ideology fades as she has to work hard on simply surviving the years of the Great Terror. Finally, Boris and Mary’s youngest son Kyrill is a staunch believer of the Communist ideology and starts to make a career within the Communist Party. Like his older brother, Kyrill ends up arrested during the purges as well. Boris and Mary in the meantime, try to keep their house a haven of peace during the turbulent Stalinist years.

Despite some flaws, I enjoyed this book enormously. While reading the book, I didn’t feel terribly involved with the characters, they stayed at a distance, but I was still way too interested in what would happen to them, how they would fare. Or at least I thought I wasn’t too involved in the characters…

I felt that there were a bit too many coincidental meetings and happenings in the book, especially those that involved American journalist Townsend Reston. He pops up from time to time and just happens to run into the main characters without of course knowing who they are or that and how they are related to each other. The opening scene in which this happens, worked very well for me, but other chance meetings, like with Boris Gradov on the Red Square or with Nina in the metro felt annoying to me.

I could also have done without the “Intermissions” in between the chapters. They didn’t add anything to the story for me. Some intermissions I suppose, were meant to put the story of the Gradovs in a larger perspective, of other intermissions I have no clue what their point was. Even the first category was not really necessary I think, because the main story contained enough information.

Another thing that bugged me were the awkward English translations of slang and some of the conversations involving young adults. They felt strange, out of time and took the rhythm and flow away from my reading. Reading a passage like that would feel like a bump in the road that your car crosses too fast.

I had the strong feeling that the book was written for a non-Russian or a Western audience (though the book was originally written in Russian). At one point there was a passage about the family celebrating Christmas some time in the 1930s. First of all, I am just not sure how much Christmas was actually celebrated in those years, as before the start of the Second World War, religion was severely restricted and believers and priests were persecuted and churches blown up. It would seem a particularly risky thing to celebrate Christmas with a tree and all in those years. I also felt that this passage implied that Christmas was celebrated in December, which is definitely not the case in Russia: Christmas is celebrated on January 6, according to the Orthodox calendar. New Year was and still is celebrated as a much bigger holiday in Russia as a result of the position religion had in the communist era. Unfortunately I forgot to mark the passage and couldn’t find it back later on. If anyone who reads this, can help me out about celebrating Christmas at the height of the Great Terror: please do leave a comment.

Finally, there was another thing that bugged me throughout the novel. None of the main female characters in the book carry the proper last name with the feminine ending. In Russian a woman’s surname almost always (there are exceptions) has another ending. Thus, Nina and Mary’s last name should really be Gradova instead of Gradov. It isn’t, they’re last name is Gradov. When Nina gets married, her married last name and that of her daughter from this marriage also keep the masculine ending Kitaigorodsky instead of Kitaigorodskaya. The names of other, minor female characters do have the proper feminine ending. Either be consistently wrong or be consistently right, preferably the second one!

Call me a nitpicker, but these things bugged me, especially since the writer is Russian and thus should know what he’s writing about.
Still, despite this, Generations of Winter is a great and engrossing saga, a book that I do very much recommend. I actually hope that Aksyonov will write a sequel. There really is room for that. In fact, after finishing the book I felt that the fate of some of the major characters was left hanging in mid-air.

WARNING: SPOILERS IN THIS PARAGRAPH!
What happened to Mitya after he escaped the firing squad? What happened with Boris IV after we last meet him? And with Savva after he is captured by the Germans? Did Veronika make it to the US with her new lover? Will Cecilia and Kyrill meet again? And if they do, does their marriage survive the long separation? Did Nina find the love that is hinted at towards the end of the book? And what will happen with Boris and Mary? There are lots of open questions left at the end of the book, as if the writer thought that at 500some pages he had written enough and needed to wrap things up before page 600.

I would love to read a sequel to Generations of Winter that would provide answers. I guess I was more involved with the characters than I thought. It might just be Aksyonov’s writing style that made it feel as if the characters remained at distance.

I realized that this review sounds kind of negative, but despite my nitpicking I did really enjoy the book very much, believe me! Well, this is about the fourth time I mention that in this post, so I guess you must have understood that by now. It just feels kind of strange to write a not so glowing review about a book that I did love and felt sorry about finishing.

Apparently, Russian tv made this book into a tv-series called Moskovskaya Saga (Moscow Saga – the Russian title of the book). I should try if I can find it on DVD here in Armenia).

This book counts towards the Russian Reading Challenge, the Chunkster Challenge and the Orbis Terrarum Challenge.

A new challenge

But this one is not necessarily book-oriented and does not involve reading. The ever active Dewey came up with the Weekly Geeks challenge and this is what it does involve:

1. Every week there’ll be a different theme. One week might be “catch up on your library books” week and the next might be “redecorate your blog week” or “organize your challenges” week or “catch up on your reviews” week. It’ll be fairly bookblogcentric, but not exclusively.

2. Everyone who joins agrees that they will try to check each week to see what the theme is, although they DO NOT have to participate each week, only when they feel like it.

3. Everyone who joins is welcome (encouraged, begged!) to send me ideas for weekly themes via email, comments, whatever. The more ideas, the better.

4. I will post the weekly theme each Saturday, but you can check in any time it’s convenient to find out what the theme is.

5. If you post about your progress with that week’s theme in your blog (whether you were wildly successful or didn’t get around to any of it) then you can come back and leave a link to that post in the comments for that theme.

6. The next week, when I announce the new theme, I will also post a mini-carnival-like blurb, with links to everyone’s progress posts. Either way, you’ll have a link to your blog every week you participate, which will hopefully help other participants find their way to your posts.

7. In order to motivate participants to spread the word, anyone who posts promoting this challenge is guaranteed to be able to choose the theme for one of the weeks this year (their choice of week, first come first served). No need to pick a week now; just let me know when you have a theme idea and you can pick your week then.

This seems like a good way to get some “maintenance” done from time to time. I might actually use both my blogs for this challenge. My other blog is my more general one about my life in Armenia, which has been dormant (or rather comatose) for the past months. It might get me back to blogging more regularly there as well as here.

It’s Carnival time again!

The April Bookworms Carnival is up at In the Louvre. This month’s theme is Latin-American literature.

The next Bookworms Carnival will be hosted over at Scooter Chronicles. The theme for May is Contemporary/Urban Fantasy and the deadline for submission is May 9. Any submissions can be sent to srf at soundchaser dot org.

Links for Book lovers

A friend sent me this link to a list of eighty online resources for book lovers. The contains some of the obvious (Library Thing, Amazon, etc.), but most of them I had never heard of. There are also loads of links to sites where you can download audiobooks or free e-books.

A long overdue review

I finished The whisperers by Orlando Figes more than two months ago, started writing a post about it, but never got around to finish it. At first I had to let this book sink in, I kept thinking about it, I couldn’t let it go. I considered leaving this book unreviewed, but I really don’t want to. Why? Because chances are very high that this book will be among my favorite reads of 2008 and because I do want to bring attention to this book. Besides, I wanted to count this towards the Russian Reading Challenge and towards the Chunkster Challenge.

I hadn’t even read ten pages when I had already fallen for Figes’ writing. He writes very accessible, but at the same time the book is not an easy or a fast read. But then again, I didn’t even want to read it fast, though on the other hand I realized that I was reading the book faster than I wanted to, simply because it is so well written and informative. I even didn’t mark all the passages that I wanted to mark and share. I wanted to savor the stories, the details and all the people. There are many stories to be told and a lot of people to make an appearance. At first I tried to keep track of everyone, but I gave up on that and started to just go with the flow, except for the families whose life stories make up the core of the book. Fortunately, small family trees of these families are included. I can imagine though, that for some readers all these people making big or small appearances are confusing and a drawback.

From my words you might think that this book is a fun book to read. It isn’t: It is about human tragedy, about the cruelty of human beings, about a period of illogical violence and persecution, the Stalin-era in the Soviet-Union. The book’s subtitle is “Private Life in Stalin’s Russia” and that is precisely what the book is about: how the Stalinist regime affected the private lives of ordinary people in Soviet-Russia.

With the help of Memorial, a well-known Russian organization dedicated to preserving the memory of victims of the Soviet repression, Figes recorded hundreds of interviews with people who grew up in and lived through the Stalin era. He also collected many private, never before published diaries and letters. Many of the interviews and transcripts are online on the author’s website www.orlandofiges.com, which is really worth a visit.

The book follows a chronological path, starting in the Revolutionary year 1917 which saw the Bolshevik takeover. The first chapter introduces all the families whose life stories run as a red thread through the book. It basically sets the stage for what is to come. It describes how the regime wanted to create a new kind of person who didn’t distinguish between private and public and how it aimed to eventually destroy the family as a unit.

Increasingly, there was nothing private in the life of the Bolshevik that was not subject to the gaze and censure of the Party leadership.This public culture, where every member was expected to reveal his inner self to the collective, was unique to the Bolsheviks – there was nothing like it in the Nazi or the Fascist movement, where the individual Nazi or Fascist was allowed to have a private life, so long as he adhered to the Party’s rules and ideology – until the Cultural Revolution in China. Any distinction between private and public life was explicitly rejected by the Bolsheviks. ‘When a comrade says: “What I am doing now concerns my private life and not society,” we say that cannot be correct,’ wrote one Bolshevik in 1924. Everything in the Pary member’s private life was social and political; everything he did had a direct impact on the Party’s interests.(p.37)

This did not have the wished for effect: people instead started to present themselves differently in private and in public. In public they would “present themselves as conforming to Soviet ideals whilst concealing their true selves in a secret private sphere” (p.37). Only a few years later, the regime had to abolish this idea and returned to admitting more of a private life and to promoting much more conservative values regarding the family (abortion was made illegal again), marriage (divorce was made more difficult and considerably more expensive), the role of women (a good Party wife was no longer supposed to work and give her time to the Party, but to stay home, take care of the house and the children and support her husband’s carrier in the party from the kitchen). The very austere life Party-members were initially encouraged to lead, was abolished in favor of access to better living circumstances, better food and more luxurious food from special shops only for Party-ranks, cars with drivers, dachas, etc. This was a complete turnaround from the early years after the revolution. In this way a division was created between the mass (who was still living fairly poorly) and the elite of the Party.

Something of this idea of a mix of private and public life was retained, though, and used in the establishment of kommunalkas, a way of living where several families would live in one apartment or on one floor and share the kitchen, toilet and bathroom (if there was one). Especially in Moscow and Leningrad this was the most common form of living in the 1930s. Originally these kommunalkas where used as a solution to the existing housing problem, but in the 1930s it became more and more a way for the state to control its subjects. The walls where usually very thin, social control was big and in each building there lived informers of the secret police or people who were willing to turn their neighbors in because they wanted to add that living space to their own. You can imagine how people would only whisper even in their own rooms, how there was hardly any privacy.

The early chapters of the book also show how the older generations tried to keep the old traditions and religion alive, while the younger generation was being indoctrinated with the new ideas at school, in the Pioneers and the Komsomol. This division between the older generations who still had remnants of or believed in the old value system and the young generations who only had the new post-revolutionary value system of the communist regime to shape their views, this division comes up again in full force during the Great Terror in 1937-38: When (one of) their parents was arrested for being an ‘enemy of the people’, very many children believed that this was somehow true, that there must be some sort of truth in it and they started hating the arrested parent for being an ‘enemy’ and for ruining their chances as a good member of the Komsomol.

About the years of the Great Terror in 1937-38:

People waited for their turn. Many packed a bag and kept it by their bed in order to be ready when the NKVD knocked on their door. This passivity is one of the most striking features of the Great Terror. There were many ways to avoid arrest – moving out of town and taking on a new identity by buying papers on the black market being the most simple and effective, for the NKVD was not good at tracking down people on the move. The Russian people had a long tradition of fleeing persecution by the State – from the Old Believers to runaways from serfdom – and this tactic was adopted by millions of peasant who ran away from the collective farms and ’special settlements’. But the urban population by and large remained in place, without any sign of resistance, and waited for the Terror to take them.(p.242)

The book describes how the central families fared in the Stalin years, how children grew up in orphanages because their parents had been shot or exiled, how others cooperated with the regime and made a career in it, how again others were sent to the Gulag-camps for years. Because of what? Because of nothing really. How some people tried to hide their ‘bourgeois’ or ‘kulak‘ origins in order to get accepted at university. And how this hiding of parts of one’s life or lying about one’s past didn’t stop when Stalin died, but how this fear and secrecy lasted in some cases until even after the Soviet-Union fell apart in 1989-1991. The story of Antonina Golovina is very telling in this respect. In the early 1930s, when she was only a child, she and her mother and siblings were exiled to Siberia after her father was convicted to labor camp for being a ‘kulak’. She married twice in her life, living with each husband for over twenty years. Antonina hid her ‘undesirable’ origins and her exile from both husbands, only telling them about this in the late 1980s, early 1990s (her first husband was still alive then and they had stayed friends after their divorce). Only then did she find out, that both her husbands also had a history of exile or ‘undesirable’ origins.

An unexpected pleasure for me was coming across Elena Bonner. Her memoir and memories are quoted more than once in the course of the book. She is a human rights activist and widow of the late Andrey Sakharov. I have had a lot of respect for her for many years, since I learned more about her while writing a paper on her during my studies. I would love to reread her memoir Alone Together.

I wish the book would deal more with people living in the other, non-Russian Soviet republics as well, though I can also see that that would have made the project too large and complicated in part since all these republics are now independent states. I’d be interested if and in what ways private life in other republics would have been different. For example, I am living in one of these now independent republics, Armenia. From what I know (but I don’t know how accurate this is), during Soviet times in some ways the regime was not so strict (though I am not sure that was the case also during Stalin’s time) because it was a bit of a far away corner of the empire. In later years, long after Stalin’s death, apparently Soviet Jews migrated to Armenia from elsewhere in the Soviet-Union, because they were less repressed here and had more chances to enter universities etc. Again, I might not be entirely correct, but this is what I heard. On the other hand, Stalin’s repression hit the republic of Georgia relatively harder than other republics, possibly because Stalin was Georgian. Again: I would have loved to read more about life under Stalin in other parts of the Soviet-Union, but I realize that would make the project too enormous and too complicated (logistically as well). This is not so much a flaw of the book, but more something I’d be interested in.

I am not doing this book nearly enough justice with this review written so long after finishing the book and by leaving out so much. But I have to. The Whisperers is so rich in information and quotable passages, that I could write three more posts about it. But I won’t.

This book is a must read for anyone interested in Russian history and in how ‘big history’ affects ordinary people.

Orlando Figes’ website is here.


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