As the Introduction to Firebird, The Story of Roman indicates, this memoir fulfils a promise made to its author whilst Firebird, the film, was underway. The book was originally published as A Tale of Roman by Sergey Nizhny, Sergey Fetisov’s pseudonym, in 1993. (The surname Nishny, meaning lower, rather suggests the status that Fetisov, as a gay man, experienced). The book, at the time, was a bold gesture that took advantage of the decriminalisation of homosexuality under the reforms of Yeltsin; and dared to show that gay men existed openly in Russia: notably, in the military. Both Rebane and Prior -- as co-writers – promised that they would have the story translated into English and thus allow the story or Roman to reach an audience beyond Russia.
Firebird, The Story of Roman is a labour of love by three men and a fascinating text for a number of reasons: it sheds light on the film; offers vital testimony; and adds to gay Russian literature. The film received a mixed reception amongst critics and the book shows that many criticisms were unjustified. Some critics took great delight in denigrating the film by using sexual puns. The film showed “stiff dialogue,” “hardened into something generic,” was “heavy handed,” and was hampered by being a true story – did not take creative choices beyond the original. The truth is more complex. The film narrative does show restrictive choices, but these were true to the time. Many men concealed their true natures within marriage. But the book is not the film. Firebird, The Story of Roman is more sexually explicit. The “chaste” sex scenes in the film are really a conscious decision to not replicate the book, but to allow, as Prior correctly argued, the quality of emotion (in the acting) to suggest the depth of sensual intensity. Also, the film significantly alters the context. In the film, Sergey and Roman undergo a clandestine relationship threatened by the KGB. In the book, the relationship is open, acknowledged and endorsed by the Commandant, the Old Man, and those around the two lovers. Creative choices were made by Prior and Rebane that placed the film in a more overtly political context and avoided reducing the film to soft-porn Wise decisions!
The book does not represent the love of Sergey and Roman as “chaste”, that is to say, romantic and barely sexual. Fetisov writes unashamedly about their sexual acts. And because the written word must use words alone to visualize the actions (has no actor of Prior’s ability to rely upon) Fetisov has to create a sexual language. The results are somewhat poetic for modern tastes. Even so, they manage to capture the ecstasy of the men’s relationship. The writing is pastoral in nature, something not utilised by the film: a quality reminiscent of Andre Gide. Like Gustave Roud, Fetisov merges the natural landscape with human sensuality. At times, the writing is as raw as Elisabeth Smart’s By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept.
Firebird, The Story of Roman is a book of two halves. The first half, up to the death of Roman, is a series of joined fragments in which the narrative stitches past and present together and merges unchecked emotion with controlled reflections. The second half is a sustained novella that recounts the aftermath of Roman’s death. His wife’s letter to Sergey has to be one of the bitterest and vilest anywhere in literature. The second section also provides background to the Old Man and his connection to Roman, something not included in the film.
In publishing this memoir, Rebane and Prior show faith and integrity. The book is well edited and contains stills from the film – but it is far more than a commercial tie-in. It is worth reading because it remembers a brave creative writer and the trauma he dared to face, and re-tell, at a time when Russia was opening up and individuals dared to dream of lives beyond restrictive religious and political orthodoxy.