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The Archivist's Story
Lubyanka prison, Moscow, 1939. A young archivist interviews a prisoner to determine his authorship of an unfinished story. The archivist is charged with cataloguing and destroying the works of the purged, imprisoned writers. One of the prisoners is Isaac Babel, Russia's most famous living writer, who will be executed within the year.
241 pages
First published January 1, 2007
24 people are currently reading
759 people want to read
About the author
Travis Holland
3 books52 followersTravis Holland’s stories have previously appeared in Ploughshares, Glimmer Train, Five Points, and The Quarterly.
His first novel, The Archivist's Story, is published by Dial Press, and was a Barnes & Noble Discover Great New Writer's selection. In 2007, the Archivist's Story was listed among the best books of the year by Publisher's Weekly and the Financial Times, and was a Guardian Readers’ Pick.
He is the winner of the 2008 VCU Cabell First Novelist Award, and was a finalist for the 2009 Impac Dublin prize. A graduate of the University of Michigan, where he received his M.F.A., he lives in Ann Arbor.
His first novel, The Archivist's Story, is published by Dial Press, and was a Barnes & Noble Discover Great New Writer's selection. In 2007, the Archivist's Story was listed among the best books of the year by Publisher's Weekly and the Financial Times, and was a Guardian Readers’ Pick.
He is the winner of the 2008 VCU Cabell First Novelist Award, and was a finalist for the 2009 Impac Dublin prize. A graduate of the University of Michigan, where he received his M.F.A., he lives in Ann Arbor.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 130 reviews
October 2, 2009
In this slim volume author Holland manages to delineate the terror that was at the heart of Soviet tyranny. A disgraced teacher gets a job as "archivist" at the notorious Lubyanka prison in Moscow. It is just before the start of the Second World War and Stalin's show trials with their subsequent executions and exile are continuing. The grand irony of the title is, of course, that he is not an archivist but a participant in the destruction of thousands of letters, diaries, short stories and novels seized from those whom the KGB considers a threat to the state. The paper will be destroyed, as will the writers. The protagonist's decision to save some scraps of these irreplaceable words puts him on an inevitable collision course with a dictatorship indifferent to the life of its citizens. The sheer atmosphere of this novel is but one part of Holland's accomplishment.
May 22, 2023
If you've ever felt that tingle of greatness when you've read an Isaac Babel short story, you'll get something of the motivation for this wonderful novel, an attempt to reimagine Babel's imprisonment. Here's a little review I wrote a long time ago
Soviet writer Isaac Babel published a couple of volumes of short stories in the 1920s. They were brilliantly observed and filled with irony about the human condition, often funny, yet also very bleak.
He was immediately recognized as a master of the form. But as Stalin tightened his grip on the country, Babel famously chose to become the Master of Silence during the 1930s. In that era, even silence was dangerous; Babel eventually died in prison. All of his unpublished work was confiscated and disappeared, along with its author, into Lubyanka Prison and the enormous bureaucracy of the secret police.
At this point Ann Arbor writer Travis Holland begins his first novel. In The Archivist's Story Holland follows Pavel Dubrov, the man second in charge of the Lubyanka's literary archive, the place where all the unpublished novels, stories, and poems written by those killed in the Stalinist purges are catalogued and then destroyed. Literature is not immortal in Lubyanka; it is made with small marks on fragile pieces of paper that are easily burned. Pavel loves literature, but it is easy for him to imagine a day when there will be "no stories, no novels or plays, no poems. Just empty shelves. The end of history."
Pavel accepts this, even as he tries to save two unknown stories by Isaac Babel from the fire. It is a kind of bravery, although Pavel is not an uncompromised man. He has his job because he has been complicit in denouncing a former colleague at a school. He was no longer trusted by his fellows, and now he is not trusted by the apparatchiks he works for in the secret police. Even though he would prefer to mourn his wife, take care of his failing mother, and read his books, he knows that his world will not allow him to do that. He has seen the signs of his own destruction:
If anything, these last few years at the Lubyanka have taught him that one must always be attentive to signs: an angry word, an unintended gesture — the first faint milky cracks in the ice. He has seen what happens to people who failed to read the warnings, who refused to believe that the beautiful, bright world they inhabited could one day fall upon them like a hobnailed heel, crushing them into dust.
Nonetheless, in the face of certain arrest, Pavel Dubrov chooses decency, to take care of his mother, to guard the memory of a few friends, and to save the two stories. It is a kind of redemption, however tentative.
Travis Holland's success in The Archivist's Story is that he is able to draw us into this world, fearing for Pavel even as we recognize his weakness and his likely failure. He has created the details of the gray Soviet city but also gives sharp moments of beauty in the landscape and in the people who inhabit the concrete apartment complexes. He never feels the need to lecture the reader on the consequences of the story he tells. It is a story I finished in tears, wishing that it could have gone on and on, wishing for a different history.
https://annarborobserver.com/articles...
Soviet writer Isaac Babel published a couple of volumes of short stories in the 1920s. They were brilliantly observed and filled with irony about the human condition, often funny, yet also very bleak.
He was immediately recognized as a master of the form. But as Stalin tightened his grip on the country, Babel famously chose to become the Master of Silence during the 1930s. In that era, even silence was dangerous; Babel eventually died in prison. All of his unpublished work was confiscated and disappeared, along with its author, into Lubyanka Prison and the enormous bureaucracy of the secret police.
At this point Ann Arbor writer Travis Holland begins his first novel. In The Archivist's Story Holland follows Pavel Dubrov, the man second in charge of the Lubyanka's literary archive, the place where all the unpublished novels, stories, and poems written by those killed in the Stalinist purges are catalogued and then destroyed. Literature is not immortal in Lubyanka; it is made with small marks on fragile pieces of paper that are easily burned. Pavel loves literature, but it is easy for him to imagine a day when there will be "no stories, no novels or plays, no poems. Just empty shelves. The end of history."
Pavel accepts this, even as he tries to save two unknown stories by Isaac Babel from the fire. It is a kind of bravery, although Pavel is not an uncompromised man. He has his job because he has been complicit in denouncing a former colleague at a school. He was no longer trusted by his fellows, and now he is not trusted by the apparatchiks he works for in the secret police. Even though he would prefer to mourn his wife, take care of his failing mother, and read his books, he knows that his world will not allow him to do that. He has seen the signs of his own destruction:
If anything, these last few years at the Lubyanka have taught him that one must always be attentive to signs: an angry word, an unintended gesture — the first faint milky cracks in the ice. He has seen what happens to people who failed to read the warnings, who refused to believe that the beautiful, bright world they inhabited could one day fall upon them like a hobnailed heel, crushing them into dust.
Nonetheless, in the face of certain arrest, Pavel Dubrov chooses decency, to take care of his mother, to guard the memory of a few friends, and to save the two stories. It is a kind of redemption, however tentative.
Travis Holland's success in The Archivist's Story is that he is able to draw us into this world, fearing for Pavel even as we recognize his weakness and his likely failure. He has created the details of the gray Soviet city but also gives sharp moments of beauty in the landscape and in the people who inhabit the concrete apartment complexes. He never feels the need to lecture the reader on the consequences of the story he tells. It is a story I finished in tears, wishing that it could have gone on and on, wishing for a different history.
https://annarborobserver.com/articles...
February 12, 2017
Set in Stalinist Russia, in Moscow. It was sad and terrifying. We can all Google how many people were killed during the Stalin years, and it is estimated to be as high as a staggering 60 million, but this quiet book explores the juxtaposition between people trying to live normal lives and the constant fear of saying or doing the wrong thing. Women still became pregnant, children played, people got sick and needed medical care, people needed to eat, work and live. But the fear was pervasive and with excellent reason. If you have read 1984 by George Orwell you will understand the terror that people lived with by the parallels between the totalitarian regime of Stalin and the totalitarian regime described in 1984. People were terrified and through fear inspired by murders, tortures and beatings, would confess to anything and implicate anyone. (The building called Lubyanka has a gruesome back story as well, before it became home of the Soviet secret police and a prison. But that isn't part of this book.)
This is the fictional story of a teacher who becomes an archivist in Lubyanka after losing his position in the school for his part in the deposition against a fellow teacher. The archivist is having a hard time with his job of burning all of this literature and poetry deemed counterproductive to the revolution. He illegally saves some of the work of Isaac Babel after interviewing the author, who was imprisoned in Lubyanka, to find out whether an unsigned short story was his work. The archivist knows his time of freedom is ending, that he will be arrested soon. He does his best to take care of his loved ones and prepares for the inevitable.
This is the fictional story of a teacher who becomes an archivist in Lubyanka after losing his position in the school for his part in the deposition against a fellow teacher. The archivist is having a hard time with his job of burning all of this literature and poetry deemed counterproductive to the revolution. He illegally saves some of the work of Isaac Babel after interviewing the author, who was imprisoned in Lubyanka, to find out whether an unsigned short story was his work. The archivist knows his time of freedom is ending, that he will be arrested soon. He does his best to take care of his loved ones and prepares for the inevitable.
September 14, 2007
Pavel Dubrov is a former teacher now working for the Soviet bureaucracy during the Stalin years. He is responsible for archiving and, tragically, burning works of literature. We meet him as he is querying Isaac Babel about a short story that was informally ascribed to him.
Pavel's life quickly unravels through the course of the book. His wife boarded a train eight months ago; the train derailed, and her body has not yet been released to him. His best friend is being very outspoken in public forums, and Pavel fears for him. His mother has begun having periods where she blacks out, and he takes her--against her will--to a neurologist to see if the problem can be identified. While he is dealing with all these things, as well as a truculent junior officer with whom he works, Pavel is growing closer to Natalya, the building manager. Their relationship is not a typical love affair. They are both damaged emotionally, but there is a solace there nonetheless.
Holland's prose is austere yet simultaneously rich. The atmosphere he creates is stiflingly terrifying. It is easy for the reader to identify with the tortured Pavel, trying to make the best sense he can out of the world in which he was forced to dwell.
This is an incredible book. I cannot recommend it highly enough.
Pavel's life quickly unravels through the course of the book. His wife boarded a train eight months ago; the train derailed, and her body has not yet been released to him. His best friend is being very outspoken in public forums, and Pavel fears for him. His mother has begun having periods where she blacks out, and he takes her--against her will--to a neurologist to see if the problem can be identified. While he is dealing with all these things, as well as a truculent junior officer with whom he works, Pavel is growing closer to Natalya, the building manager. Their relationship is not a typical love affair. They are both damaged emotionally, but there is a solace there nonetheless.
Holland's prose is austere yet simultaneously rich. The atmosphere he creates is stiflingly terrifying. It is easy for the reader to identify with the tortured Pavel, trying to make the best sense he can out of the world in which he was forced to dwell.
This is an incredible book. I cannot recommend it highly enough.
September 9, 2007
This book caught my attention at the library, because it had the word archivist in the title. When I read inside the flap that it took place in Stalinist-regime Russia, it was a done deal.
I brought it home and devoured it, forcing myself to put it aside every now and then so I could savor it. I'm really bad at savoring, though, so I finished it in a day. This is one of those books that captures your attention quickly and stays with you when you put it down to eat dinner, see "3: 10 to Yuma," get your oil changed, etc.
It's an engrossing story of a former literature professor who works (quite reluctantly) as an archivist at the Russian secret service headquarters. His job requires him to go through papers of writers who have been apprehended as political prisoners. In this archives, "processing" manuscripts more often than not equals throwing them into the boiler.
The archivist is tortured by his part in erasing Russia's history (as well as by the recent death of his wife, his close friend's impending persecution for anti-Stalin shenanigans, his mother's failing health, and the state of Russia in general) and struggles to preserve as much history as he can. He does this by stealing the manuscripts of Isaac Babel, but many of his actions outside of the archives further this need to keep the written word alive.
It sounds really depressing, and it is not a happy book, but I found it very hopeful. Highly recommended.
I brought it home and devoured it, forcing myself to put it aside every now and then so I could savor it. I'm really bad at savoring, though, so I finished it in a day. This is one of those books that captures your attention quickly and stays with you when you put it down to eat dinner, see "3: 10 to Yuma," get your oil changed, etc.
It's an engrossing story of a former literature professor who works (quite reluctantly) as an archivist at the Russian secret service headquarters. His job requires him to go through papers of writers who have been apprehended as political prisoners. In this archives, "processing" manuscripts more often than not equals throwing them into the boiler.
The archivist is tortured by his part in erasing Russia's history (as well as by the recent death of his wife, his close friend's impending persecution for anti-Stalin shenanigans, his mother's failing health, and the state of Russia in general) and struggles to preserve as much history as he can. He does this by stealing the manuscripts of Isaac Babel, but many of his actions outside of the archives further this need to keep the written word alive.
It sounds really depressing, and it is not a happy book, but I found it very hopeful. Highly recommended.
December 8, 2021
Estuve tentada de dejar de leer el libro en un par de ocasiones, dada la negatividad que desprendía el protagonista, Pável, en su día a día, y el cómo su forma de actuar estaba tan centrada en la rutina y en recordar el tiempo pasado.
En algún capítulo me quedé pensando en qué acababa de leer y trataba de relacionarlo con la historia.
Por suerte para mí, la historia se puso más interesante a partir de la mitad del libro, ya que los flashbacks apenas estaban presentes, y la forma de actuar de Pável fue algo más atrevida, rebelde, incluso.
En este libro se nota que hay una gran investigación detrás, ya que te puedes trasladar a la época y lugar en cuanto te pones a leer, y sientes el temor que tienen los ciudadanos cuando uno de su entorno comete un leve error que puede suponer un arresto.
En cuanto a los personajes, tienen personalidades muy diferentes entre sí, desde rebeldes a personas que siguen las normas al milímetro, pasando por algunos a los que cada acción tiene un significado y aquellos en los que el trabajo sólo es una oportunidad para ascender, independientemente de a qué se dediquen.
Empecemos por Pável, el protagonista. Pável es de esas personas que tratan de pasar desapercibidas y centrarse en hacer bien su trabajo, aunque a medida que pasa el libro, se nota que lo detesta con toda su alma. Es un personaje que tiene una gran evolución en la historia, ya que si comparas al del principio con el del final, son personas completamente diferentes.
Semión, es el mejor amigo de Pável. Profesor en la Academia y con las ideas muy claras de lo que está bien y mal. Trata siempre de animar a Pável y se mete en más de un problema dada su forma de ser.
Natalia, va adquiriendo importancia a partir de la mitad del libro a medida que se convierte en más cercana a Pável. Es la viva imagen de la superación, y el cómo consigue seguir a delante pese a su pasado.
Kutirev, al principio traté de verle como jefe malvado, pero luego mi imagen de él mejoró un poco, ya que me di cuenta que sólo hacía su trabajo, y, a diferencia de Pável, tenía una vida fuera de él.
Reseña en el Blog Los Libros y Eva
En algún capítulo me quedé pensando en qué acababa de leer y trataba de relacionarlo con la historia.
Por suerte para mí, la historia se puso más interesante a partir de la mitad del libro, ya que los flashbacks apenas estaban presentes, y la forma de actuar de Pável fue algo más atrevida, rebelde, incluso.
En este libro se nota que hay una gran investigación detrás, ya que te puedes trasladar a la época y lugar en cuanto te pones a leer, y sientes el temor que tienen los ciudadanos cuando uno de su entorno comete un leve error que puede suponer un arresto.
En cuanto a los personajes, tienen personalidades muy diferentes entre sí, desde rebeldes a personas que siguen las normas al milímetro, pasando por algunos a los que cada acción tiene un significado y aquellos en los que el trabajo sólo es una oportunidad para ascender, independientemente de a qué se dediquen.
Empecemos por Pável, el protagonista. Pável es de esas personas que tratan de pasar desapercibidas y centrarse en hacer bien su trabajo, aunque a medida que pasa el libro, se nota que lo detesta con toda su alma. Es un personaje que tiene una gran evolución en la historia, ya que si comparas al del principio con el del final, son personas completamente diferentes.
Semión, es el mejor amigo de Pável. Profesor en la Academia y con las ideas muy claras de lo que está bien y mal. Trata siempre de animar a Pável y se mete en más de un problema dada su forma de ser.
Natalia, va adquiriendo importancia a partir de la mitad del libro a medida que se convierte en más cercana a Pável. Es la viva imagen de la superación, y el cómo consigue seguir a delante pese a su pasado.
Kutirev, al principio traté de verle como jefe malvado, pero luego mi imagen de él mejoró un poco, ya que me di cuenta que sólo hacía su trabajo, y, a diferencia de Pável, tenía una vida fuera de él.
Reseña en el Blog Los Libros y Eva
February 28, 2024
This book is about an archivist in Soviet Russia - I should have loved it but I didn’t. I found the tone and writing style slow and flat. The multiple storylines were also confusing to follow in places. Disappointing!
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June 15, 2007Haunting, lovely, a terrific debut.
July 6, 2016
Romanul scris de scriitorul american Travis Holland a aparut la editura RAO cu titlul " Povestea arhivarului" in anul 2010 fiind tradus in limba romana de traducatorul Mihai Popescu. Travis Holland este un scriitor american tanar a carui lucrare de debut a fost chiar acest roman " The Archivist 's Story" publicat in anul 2007 si care s-a bucurat imediat de un deosebit succes fiind nominalizat la International IMPAC Dublin Literary Award. Autorul a primit de doua ori Hopwood Award. Actiunea romanului se petrece in anul 1939. Epurarile staliniste sangeroase incepusera sub pretextul asasinarii lui Serghei Kirov la 1 decembrie 1934. Serghei Kirov era conducatorul partidului comunist din Leningrad si cu toate ca in tacere toti suspectau ca era mana NKVD-ului (comisariatul poporului pentru afaceri interne), evenimetul i-a oferit lui Stalin pretextul de a incepe " Marea teroare" prin care dorea sa scape de toti cei care i-ar fi putut contesta puterea, atat luptatorii pentru victoria revolutiei din 1917 cat si intelectuali ce nu puteau fi opriti sa gandeasca si sa vorbeasca dar si tovarasi de drum pe care revolutia ii folosise pentru a obtine victoria. Au fost numiti conspirationisti trotkisti, sabotori, si " dusmani ai poporului" ajungand astfel in inchisori, in lagare de munca fortata sau adesea ucisi conducatori culturali, militari si oameni politici pana mai ieri proeminenti. Printre cei arestati si ucisi a fost si tanarul scriitor Isaac Babel cunoscut pentru povestirile " Cavaleria rosie" si " Povestiri din Odesa". A fost arestat in mai 1939 si torturat ca sa recunoasca faptul ca era terorist trotkist si spion. Locul in care se petrec toate aceste fapte teribile este inchisoarea Liublianka din Moskova devenita deja un simbol al terorii de stat.In aceasta inchisoare in anul 1939 lucra in calitate de arhivar Pavel Dubrov, un tanar profesor de prestigiu la Institutul Kirov dar care pierde postul de profesor si e obligat sa devina arhivar al cumplitei inchisori ca pedeapsa pentru atitudinea sa. Nu era inca momentul sa fie arestat dar a lucra ore in sir in temuta inchisoare era cam acelasi lucru. Romanul lui Travis Holland asta face, deschide o fereastra spre cunoasterea " Marii terori" staliniste. Nu are scene sangeroase dar reuseste sa descrie sugestiv frica palpabila si distrugerea relatiilor normale dintre oameni chiar si cele din interiorul familiei. In inchisoarea Liublianka arhivarul se intersecteaza cu scriitorul Isaac Babel. Cum de ajunsese acest scriitor al revolutiei in inchisoare? Platea pentru ca avusese o aventura romantica cu nimeni altcineva decat sotia lui Ejov, Evghenia Feigenberg, o femeie careia ii placea sa aiba asemenea aventuri. Intre 1934 si 1938 Ejov a fost seful NKVD si cel care a declansat la ordinul lui Stalin Marea teroare. Legatura cu sotia acestuia l-a adus la Isaac Babei in atentiei temutului NKVD asa ca in 1939 chiar daca la conducerea acestui a venit Lavrenti Beria, dosarele au mers inainte si Babel a fost arestat. Romanul descrie ultimile zile ale lui Babel in inchisoare. Este momentul in care Babel scrie o petitie impresioanata catre Beria:" Am o singura cerinta, sa fiu lasat sa-mi termin opera". Sarcina arhivarului Pavel Dubrov era sa clasifice si sa distruga prin ardere literatura " deviationista" termen larg sub care puteau intra toate manuscrisele scriitorilor arestati. Riscandu-si propria sa libertate si viata Pavel decide sa salveze cateva povestiri ale lui Isaac Babel , salvand totodata si propria sa umanitate. Cartea este deosebit de buna si interesanta si ne ofera pagini deosebite si bine documentate despre incheiera pactului Ribbentrop Molotov la 23 august 1939. Romanul a fost posibil si pentru ca dupa 1990 pentru cativa ani o parte din arhivele secrete au fost deschise spre cerecetare. Elisabeth Kostova are o observatie pertinenta despre autor si roman " Holland writes exquisitely... The beauty and reality of this novel linger long after on has read-reluctantly-its last page."
May 4, 2010
Found it by using Stalin and fiction as a keyword (or some such broad netting). Turns out to be a beautiful story about a teacher caught in his love of literature and family at a time --Stalinist Russia--when every love can easily lead to imprisonment and death. He has already at the very beginning of the book been demoted to the archives of Lubyanka where he gets to burn works deemed as subversive. Isaac Babel,Russian literature, his mother ailing brain, his wife, the neighbour's dog, his father figure, the respect of that friend's wife, and ultimately his life are all brittle threads in the life of this State and yet ultimately lead him to his better self. He's a remarkable character, acting I think as we all might wish we could act when faced with similar circumstances!
May 29, 2014
This short, beautifully written novel read as though it was written by a Russian several decades ago. It has the language and the haunting descriptions that I would associate with that era. Surprisingly, it was written only a few years ago by an American author. Truly excellent story of an archivist working in Lubyanka prison, Moscow under Stalin at the beginning of WWII. He has the heart breaking task of incinerating wonderful irreplaceable literature in a climate of fear and corruption. Excellent.
August 14, 2010
Set in the late 1930's Soviet Union, this is a heartbreaking story with sadness layered upon sadness. Such a great story; tension exists from the beginning of the book and never leaves. Pavel Dubrov works in the Moscow Lubyanka prison making precious manuscripts disappear. This book chronicles the vast bureaucracy of evil that existed at that time. Fantastic read.
May 4, 2023
To say I was bored is an understatement. This book just went on and on but didn't go anywhere. The final destination is clear from the very beginning (using similar names for the 2 first characters is a very ineffective way of creating tension, you'd have to be a child to not notice the link immediately), so there truly is no point in reading this book after the first chapter.
December 4, 2016
Определено на неруснаци трябва да им се забрани да пишат за руснаци, представяйки се за руснаци.
Редови руски граждани пият уиски, редовно се возят на такси, имат телефон в квартирите си, използват луксозни сапуни и парфюм, свирят американски рагтайм... Да, да. И това през 1939г.
Редови руски граждани пият уиски, редовно се возят на такси, имат телефон в квартирите си, използват луксозни сапуни и парфюм, свирят американски рагтайм... Да, да. И това през 1939г.
June 21, 2023
I think I'll leave it off 5 stars because of the ending. I was not super keen on the way it finished but I understand the authors choice to finish in such a way.
This book was depressing. The protagonist has incredible emotional weight on him mixed with the emotional baggage of his now former career and the states relative destruction of the things he holds so dear.
I think it was an interesting time to read this book about the state cleaning house on the works of authors who might have disagreed with them, given that right now Florida and other US states are banning and removing books that they too disagree with. It also reminds me of the places where the Soviet Union and of course Stalin went terribly wrong, and in a way despite being fiction adds yet another perspective of what it may have been like to live in that time. (Anyone who knows me knows I speak to both the successes and failures of the Soviet Union and it's several stages/periods) though it is worth noting through my Florida example that the destruction or removal of art or literature etc is not something that is limited to Communists and the Soviet Union but can be found anywhere in any state in any period.
This book was depressing. The protagonist has incredible emotional weight on him mixed with the emotional baggage of his now former career and the states relative destruction of the things he holds so dear.
I think it was an interesting time to read this book about the state cleaning house on the works of authors who might have disagreed with them, given that right now Florida and other US states are banning and removing books that they too disagree with. It also reminds me of the places where the Soviet Union and of course Stalin went terribly wrong, and in a way despite being fiction adds yet another perspective of what it may have been like to live in that time. (Anyone who knows me knows I speak to both the successes and failures of the Soviet Union and it's several stages/periods) though it is worth noting through my Florida example that the destruction or removal of art or literature etc is not something that is limited to Communists and the Soviet Union but can be found anywhere in any state in any period.
July 27, 2016
The Stalinist purges assumed monstrous proportions with an opportunity: Sergei Kirov’s assassination. Eugenia Ginsburg begins her memoir about her arrest in 1937 and experience in labor camps, Journey into the Whirlwind (Mariner Books, 2002), by stating as much: “That year, 1937, really began on December 1, 1934,” the day when Kirov, the head of the Communist party organization in Leningrad, was murdered. This assassination, which some suspect was facilitated by the NKVD (the People’s Commissariat for Internal Affairs), provided Stalin with the perfect pretext to launch “the Great Terror”. The Soviet leader started a witch hunt for traitors, Trotskyist conspirators, saboteurs, and “enemies of the people” that would culminate in the spectacular show trials, incarceration, torture, enslavement in labor camps and often death of leading cultural, military and political figures. Like Ginsburg herself, the notable short story writer Isaac Babel also fell prey to Stalin’s purges of the intelligentsia. Best known for his collections of short stories Red Cavalry and Tales of Odessa, Babel is considered to be one of the best Jewish Russian authors. Although he knew both Yiddish and Hebrew, Babel most admired the nineteenth-century French classics: particularly Guy de Maupassant and Gustave Flaubert’s works. He was arrested in May of 1939, tortured, then shot on the standard made-up charge of being a Trotskyite terrorist and spy, in January 1940.
Isaac Babel was well known both for his fiction and for his adventurous romantic life. In the 1930’s he made the mistake of becoming romantically involved with Nikolai Yezhov’s second wife, Yevgenia Feigenberg. She was a sensual and promiscuous woman notorious for her intrigues that ran a popular literary salon in Russia. Babel would pay for his transgression, as well as for his lack of enthusiasm for the communist regime, with his life. Yezhov himself, the head of NKVD from 1936-1938, was dubbed the “bloody dwarf”. Under his leadership of the secret police, Stalin began the Great Terror, staging show trials that relied upon forced confessions and purging millions of people from all strata of society. Leading cultural figures, particularly those known for independence of mind, were favorite targets of the regime. Having a liaison with Yezhov’s wife, however, put Babel in a particularly vulnerable position. The NKVD began closely monitoring the famous writer right up to his arrest on May 15, 1939, by which time Lavrenty Beria, Yezhov’s equally bloodthirsty successor, had taken over the secret police.
In a last, desperate note to Beria, Babel famously wrote: “I have only one request: that I be allowed to complete my last work…”
It was not only Babel’s life that was threatened with extinction, but also his writing, which would be burned without a trace by the NKVD. The contemporary American writer Travis Holland masterfully captures Isaac Babel’s last days in prison in his critically acclaimed novel, The Archivist’s Story. This novel offers a window into the Great Terror. Without scenes of graphic violence, only through strong characterizations and vivid descriptions, The Archivist’s Story reveals the palpable fear and great strain weighing upon all human relationships during the Stalinist purges. Even the most intimate bonds–between mother and son or among friends and lovers–are threatened by suspicion, fear and forced denunciations. Incredibly, and to his credit, Holland is able to humanize even the employees of the NKVD. He reveals some of them not as Stalin’s heartless marionettes, but as complex human beings, with their own inner struggles and family bonds. Prisoners and prison guards, writers threatened with not only death but also extinction and archivists in charge of destroying their works, are all entrapped in the same totalitarian system where nobody is safe or free.
The novel follows the life of Pavel Dubrov, a former teacher in the prestigious Kirov Institute who was demoted to the position of Lubyanka prison archivist following a political scandal. His new job is to classify and destroy “deviationist” literature. Risking his own safety, Pavel attempts to save some of Isaac Babel’s short stories from being obliterated by the NKVD. In a sense, the protagonist has little to lose. Although young, he’s already lost much of what made life meaningful. His beloved wife, Elena, died in a suspicious train accident. His best friend, Semyon Borisovich Sorokin, was demoted and wanted by the NKVD for criticizing a popular Soviet professor, a puppet of the regime. His mother, to whom Pavel used to be very close, is diagnosed with a brain tumor and suffers, increasingly, from blackouts. He, himself, languishes in a position antithetical to his former profession and principles. As Pavel’s world crumbles around him, he continues to fight the regime in the only way he can. He tries to help those around him threatened with imprisonment to escape to safety and attempts to save some of Babel’s fiction as a record of literary value; as pages of living history.
Before the NKVD has the chance to arrest him, Pavel manages to stow away a few valuable things in the wall, hidden behind a brick: Babel’s short stories and an anonymous postcard from his mother telling him that she loves him. “If he can save Babel’s story, save some remnant of his work, perhaps he can redeem himself, if there is anything in him left to redeem. Perhaps it is not too late” (The Archivist’s Story, Bantam Bell Publishing Group, 2007, 159). Although, like millions of others taken away by the NKVD during the Great Terror, Pavel has little chance of survival, he manages to salvage what matters to him most: his own humanity.
Claudia Moscovici, Literature Salon
Isaac Babel was well known both for his fiction and for his adventurous romantic life. In the 1930’s he made the mistake of becoming romantically involved with Nikolai Yezhov’s second wife, Yevgenia Feigenberg. She was a sensual and promiscuous woman notorious for her intrigues that ran a popular literary salon in Russia. Babel would pay for his transgression, as well as for his lack of enthusiasm for the communist regime, with his life. Yezhov himself, the head of NKVD from 1936-1938, was dubbed the “bloody dwarf”. Under his leadership of the secret police, Stalin began the Great Terror, staging show trials that relied upon forced confessions and purging millions of people from all strata of society. Leading cultural figures, particularly those known for independence of mind, were favorite targets of the regime. Having a liaison with Yezhov’s wife, however, put Babel in a particularly vulnerable position. The NKVD began closely monitoring the famous writer right up to his arrest on May 15, 1939, by which time Lavrenty Beria, Yezhov’s equally bloodthirsty successor, had taken over the secret police.
In a last, desperate note to Beria, Babel famously wrote: “I have only one request: that I be allowed to complete my last work…”
It was not only Babel’s life that was threatened with extinction, but also his writing, which would be burned without a trace by the NKVD. The contemporary American writer Travis Holland masterfully captures Isaac Babel’s last days in prison in his critically acclaimed novel, The Archivist’s Story. This novel offers a window into the Great Terror. Without scenes of graphic violence, only through strong characterizations and vivid descriptions, The Archivist’s Story reveals the palpable fear and great strain weighing upon all human relationships during the Stalinist purges. Even the most intimate bonds–between mother and son or among friends and lovers–are threatened by suspicion, fear and forced denunciations. Incredibly, and to his credit, Holland is able to humanize even the employees of the NKVD. He reveals some of them not as Stalin’s heartless marionettes, but as complex human beings, with their own inner struggles and family bonds. Prisoners and prison guards, writers threatened with not only death but also extinction and archivists in charge of destroying their works, are all entrapped in the same totalitarian system where nobody is safe or free.
The novel follows the life of Pavel Dubrov, a former teacher in the prestigious Kirov Institute who was demoted to the position of Lubyanka prison archivist following a political scandal. His new job is to classify and destroy “deviationist” literature. Risking his own safety, Pavel attempts to save some of Isaac Babel’s short stories from being obliterated by the NKVD. In a sense, the protagonist has little to lose. Although young, he’s already lost much of what made life meaningful. His beloved wife, Elena, died in a suspicious train accident. His best friend, Semyon Borisovich Sorokin, was demoted and wanted by the NKVD for criticizing a popular Soviet professor, a puppet of the regime. His mother, to whom Pavel used to be very close, is diagnosed with a brain tumor and suffers, increasingly, from blackouts. He, himself, languishes in a position antithetical to his former profession and principles. As Pavel’s world crumbles around him, he continues to fight the regime in the only way he can. He tries to help those around him threatened with imprisonment to escape to safety and attempts to save some of Babel’s fiction as a record of literary value; as pages of living history.
Before the NKVD has the chance to arrest him, Pavel manages to stow away a few valuable things in the wall, hidden behind a brick: Babel’s short stories and an anonymous postcard from his mother telling him that she loves him. “If he can save Babel’s story, save some remnant of his work, perhaps he can redeem himself, if there is anything in him left to redeem. Perhaps it is not too late” (The Archivist’s Story, Bantam Bell Publishing Group, 2007, 159). Although, like millions of others taken away by the NKVD during the Great Terror, Pavel has little chance of survival, he manages to salvage what matters to him most: his own humanity.
Claudia Moscovici, Literature Salon
February 16, 2008
The book is set in the midst of Stalin’s massive intelligentsia purges. The protagonist, Pavel works in the archives of Lubyanka prison, where he catalogues and then burns the works of Russia’s unsanctioned writers. Every time he consigns an unread, handwritten manuscript to the incinerator, Pavel, a former professor of Russian lit, feels a part of himself disappear. Only a dazed inertia gets him through his day: he lost his professorial post a little over a year ago after he ratted out an innocent colleague to the NKVD (the precursor to the KBG), and a little less than year ago, his wife died in a train accident. Her remains have been stuck ever since in bureaucratic limbo hundreds of miles away.
The whole novel is filled with a sense of limbo. While a future of secret police and prison torture looms, the glory of czarist Russia crumbles in the background. Holland describes sewers, projects, and apartments all half completed, while beautiful old neighborhoods rot. Mansions and vast estates parceled out to peasants or turned into hospitals for the sake of the Soviet nation:
…a French manor now far along in its decline…the gates have been removed, the enormous circular courtyard given over to a half dozen boxy ambulances in various stages of disrepair. A banner flaps in the wind high over the wide entrance steps. The Health of The Nation Depends upon The Health of Its Workers. p. 136.
Stalinist Russia is little more than half finished projects and promises, smoothed over by parades, advertisements, and threats. A mix of pomp and decay. In this purgatory, Holland succeeds at creating the powerful sense of hopelessness and insecurity that authoritarian rule breeds. Faceless bureaucracies, governments, history, time, these things sweep individuals along and can make us – any of us – disappear without a trace.
Pavel’s mother was once a noblewoman. But her great grandfather was murdered by his peasants during a famine, and the Bolsheviks seized their lands during the revolution. Her husband, by all accounts a peerless husband, was blown up by one of the few Polish mines during WWI. When the book starts, she is losing her mind to old age.
Towards the end of the novel, the NKVD takes Pavel’s best friend and surrogate father, Semyon. One of Semyon’s colleagues denounces him out of spite, and a few weeks later he turns up missing. Pavel is too scared to call or inquire at work about Semyon’s whereabouts. He finally shows up at Semyon’s apartment, probably the most dangerous thing he could do, and in an unparalleled display of bravado, Pavel intimidates the landowner to let him into the apartment. He finds it torn to shreds. Semyon’s furniture toppled over, his private letters spilled over the floor, around his torn up copies of The Brothers Karamazov and Hero of Our Time.
And it is just here, in the tiny windows into peoples’ unguarded lives and the tiny acts of heroism, that the novel succeeds. Pavel reads one of Semyon’s letters:
“Dear Vera
“I wish with all my heart that we could have spent yesterday together, though I understand perfectly well your wanting to be with your family during the holidays, just as I know you understand my need to work. Ah, the life of a probationary associate professor. So happy New Year, my beautiful new wife! I have been to the mailbox twice already this afternoon hoping for a letter from you. It is beautiful here today, very clear. As soon as I post this I will walk down to Chistyye Prudy and watch the ice-skaters on the pond, and imagine that you are with me, as I am with you.”
In Pavel’s breaking into Semyon’s apartment, as in the youthful bouyance of this letter, as in everyone’s lives before time, authoritarianism, and mistrust break them down, Travis Holland shows us there is something worthwhile. There may be no hope, but there still is goodness and happiness to be had.
One item that should be mentioned, however, is the writing. The author’s writing never soars to any great heights; his strength lies in characterization and setting. His writing, however, does have some low points:
“His smile appears loosely pasted on this evening, as though the slightest wind could peel it away.” 23
“Through the open window a strip of hard yellow sunlight falls crookedly across the table like a runner.” 35
“Her eyes, a startling milky green…” 81
“Often he wakes the next morning it is with some disturbing, half-forgotten dream still ringing through him, like the sound of weeping reverberating through a wall.” 180
In context, I cannot figure out what these images mean. Milky green eyes? A pasted on smile? Hard sunlight? A dream that rings like wailing through a wall? Thankfully these attempts at transcendent writing are few, and the author succeeds in other areas.
The whole novel is filled with a sense of limbo. While a future of secret police and prison torture looms, the glory of czarist Russia crumbles in the background. Holland describes sewers, projects, and apartments all half completed, while beautiful old neighborhoods rot. Mansions and vast estates parceled out to peasants or turned into hospitals for the sake of the Soviet nation:
…a French manor now far along in its decline…the gates have been removed, the enormous circular courtyard given over to a half dozen boxy ambulances in various stages of disrepair. A banner flaps in the wind high over the wide entrance steps. The Health of The Nation Depends upon The Health of Its Workers. p. 136.
Stalinist Russia is little more than half finished projects and promises, smoothed over by parades, advertisements, and threats. A mix of pomp and decay. In this purgatory, Holland succeeds at creating the powerful sense of hopelessness and insecurity that authoritarian rule breeds. Faceless bureaucracies, governments, history, time, these things sweep individuals along and can make us – any of us – disappear without a trace.
Pavel’s mother was once a noblewoman. But her great grandfather was murdered by his peasants during a famine, and the Bolsheviks seized their lands during the revolution. Her husband, by all accounts a peerless husband, was blown up by one of the few Polish mines during WWI. When the book starts, she is losing her mind to old age.
Towards the end of the novel, the NKVD takes Pavel’s best friend and surrogate father, Semyon. One of Semyon’s colleagues denounces him out of spite, and a few weeks later he turns up missing. Pavel is too scared to call or inquire at work about Semyon’s whereabouts. He finally shows up at Semyon’s apartment, probably the most dangerous thing he could do, and in an unparalleled display of bravado, Pavel intimidates the landowner to let him into the apartment. He finds it torn to shreds. Semyon’s furniture toppled over, his private letters spilled over the floor, around his torn up copies of The Brothers Karamazov and Hero of Our Time.
And it is just here, in the tiny windows into peoples’ unguarded lives and the tiny acts of heroism, that the novel succeeds. Pavel reads one of Semyon’s letters:
“Dear Vera
“I wish with all my heart that we could have spent yesterday together, though I understand perfectly well your wanting to be with your family during the holidays, just as I know you understand my need to work. Ah, the life of a probationary associate professor. So happy New Year, my beautiful new wife! I have been to the mailbox twice already this afternoon hoping for a letter from you. It is beautiful here today, very clear. As soon as I post this I will walk down to Chistyye Prudy and watch the ice-skaters on the pond, and imagine that you are with me, as I am with you.”
In Pavel’s breaking into Semyon’s apartment, as in the youthful bouyance of this letter, as in everyone’s lives before time, authoritarianism, and mistrust break them down, Travis Holland shows us there is something worthwhile. There may be no hope, but there still is goodness and happiness to be had.
One item that should be mentioned, however, is the writing. The author’s writing never soars to any great heights; his strength lies in characterization and setting. His writing, however, does have some low points:
“His smile appears loosely pasted on this evening, as though the slightest wind could peel it away.” 23
“Through the open window a strip of hard yellow sunlight falls crookedly across the table like a runner.” 35
“Her eyes, a startling milky green…” 81
“Often he wakes the next morning it is with some disturbing, half-forgotten dream still ringing through him, like the sound of weeping reverberating through a wall.” 180
In context, I cannot figure out what these images mean. Milky green eyes? A pasted on smile? Hard sunlight? A dream that rings like wailing through a wall? Thankfully these attempts at transcendent writing are few, and the author succeeds in other areas.
February 17, 2015
Ho deciso di non abbandonare questo periodo storico, anni '30-'40, che ha caratterizzato questo inizio d'anno, ma dalla Germania nazista e dalla Francia occupata ci spostiamo nell'Unione Sovietica dell'epoca delle "purghe" staliniane.
Chiaramente non posso che guardare con affetto a un libro che si intitola Storia di un archivista (può anzi essere anche stato proprio il motivo per cui, anni fa, l'ho comprato): libri, biblioteche e bibliotecari sono presenze abbastanza usuali nei romanzi, molto meno gli archivi e i miei colleghi. In effetti però il protagonista del romanzo di Holland, Pavel, è un anti-archivista: gli scatoloni pieni di fascicoli e manoscritti che gli arrivano lui è costretto non a conservarli, ma a distruggerli. Siamo a Mosca nel 1939, e Pavel lavora alla Lubjanka, la famigerata sede dei servizi segreti sovietici; una volta era un insegnante di letteratura, ma, dopo essere stato coinvolto in un caso di diffamazione, tristemente comune all'epoca, l'hanno sbattuto qui e ora, quale amaro contrappasso, si occupa di distruggere i manoscritti degli autori sospetti. Uno di questi è Babel', la cui fugace conoscenza scatena in Pavel, la cui cita sembra essersi infilata in un tunnel di depressione (è anche rimasto vedovo da poco), un'intima ribellione, un'occasione di riscatto: segretamente, giorno dopo giorno, cercherà di salvare dal fuoco dell'inceneritore quanti più manoscritti possibili.
Non ricordo dove, ma qualcuno sul web consigliava di iniziare a leggere questo romanzo in una ridente giornata di sole, o accoccolati accanto alla persona amata, insomma in un'atmosfera e in una disposizione d'animo gioiosa e rassicurante, altrimenti si rischiava di finire risucchiati dall'estrema cupezza e desolazione di questa difficile storia. E c'è poco da stare allegri, in effetti, il tono è volutamente grigio, spento, malinconico, tutti i personaggi, Pavel e i suoi amici, sua madre, ci appaiono stanchi, tesi, sorretti solo dalla loro rete di reciproca solidarietà. In realtà avrei preferito che il romanzo si calasse maggiormente negli ingranaggi diabolici del meccanismo di sospetti, delazioni, accuse incrociate, che funzionava nei palazzi del potere, quella che qui viene evocata è piuttosto l'atmosfera, di rassegnazione e paura perenne, in cui sono calate le persone comuni, i pesci piccoli del sistema. Libro che scorre rapidamente, il tono dimesso e la quasi assenza di grandi accadimenti o svolte nella trama avevano un loro perché nell'economia della storia, ma certo la lettura non mi ha particolarmente coinvolta.
3/5
http://moloch981.wordpress.com/2012/0...
Chiaramente non posso che guardare con affetto a un libro che si intitola Storia di un archivista (può anzi essere anche stato proprio il motivo per cui, anni fa, l'ho comprato): libri, biblioteche e bibliotecari sono presenze abbastanza usuali nei romanzi, molto meno gli archivi e i miei colleghi. In effetti però il protagonista del romanzo di Holland, Pavel, è un anti-archivista: gli scatoloni pieni di fascicoli e manoscritti che gli arrivano lui è costretto non a conservarli, ma a distruggerli. Siamo a Mosca nel 1939, e Pavel lavora alla Lubjanka, la famigerata sede dei servizi segreti sovietici; una volta era un insegnante di letteratura, ma, dopo essere stato coinvolto in un caso di diffamazione, tristemente comune all'epoca, l'hanno sbattuto qui e ora, quale amaro contrappasso, si occupa di distruggere i manoscritti degli autori sospetti. Uno di questi è Babel', la cui fugace conoscenza scatena in Pavel, la cui cita sembra essersi infilata in un tunnel di depressione (è anche rimasto vedovo da poco), un'intima ribellione, un'occasione di riscatto: segretamente, giorno dopo giorno, cercherà di salvare dal fuoco dell'inceneritore quanti più manoscritti possibili.
Non ricordo dove, ma qualcuno sul web consigliava di iniziare a leggere questo romanzo in una ridente giornata di sole, o accoccolati accanto alla persona amata, insomma in un'atmosfera e in una disposizione d'animo gioiosa e rassicurante, altrimenti si rischiava di finire risucchiati dall'estrema cupezza e desolazione di questa difficile storia. E c'è poco da stare allegri, in effetti, il tono è volutamente grigio, spento, malinconico, tutti i personaggi, Pavel e i suoi amici, sua madre, ci appaiono stanchi, tesi, sorretti solo dalla loro rete di reciproca solidarietà. In realtà avrei preferito che il romanzo si calasse maggiormente negli ingranaggi diabolici del meccanismo di sospetti, delazioni, accuse incrociate, che funzionava nei palazzi del potere, quella che qui viene evocata è piuttosto l'atmosfera, di rassegnazione e paura perenne, in cui sono calate le persone comuni, i pesci piccoli del sistema. Libro che scorre rapidamente, il tono dimesso e la quasi assenza di grandi accadimenti o svolte nella trama avevano un loro perché nell'economia della storia, ma certo la lettura non mi ha particolarmente coinvolta.
3/5
http://moloch981.wordpress.com/2012/0...
August 7, 2018
"He was not a man who makes friends easily. As a boy, in school and later university, it was easier to dedicate himself to his studies, to books. Others, outcasts like himself into whose lopsided social circles he was thrown by circumstance, eventually cultivated their various small eccentricities, channeling them into clubs, organizations, lives of a sort. They grew beards, became painters, actors, studied physics or law or dialectics, devoted themselves to the Party, to poetry. Moved on Pavel had no eccentricities to cultivate. He was not odd but awkward, not unique but simply shy, and therefore often lonely. Being different would have offered him a peg on which to hang his identity."
Pavel lives in Stalin's Russia during World War II, and has the job of collecting, archiving, and burning the work of artists. He's like Montag from Fahrenheit 451, and he has read the work of the artists that he's destroying. He has a mother, a neighbor's dog, a friend, a wife long passed, and utter terror. He bargains daily to keep himself alive, physically if not morally, and the grayness of his universe creeps into the bones of the reader through this novel.
There are good people in this book, and people whose only interest is their own ambition and/or their own livelihood. There are children, lovers, dogs, old people, intellectuals, workers, party members...and the terror of the Stalin era means that none of that matters whatsoever. An utterly believable portrait not of a dystopia but of reality.
And none of that matters.
"When the train pulls away, he walks slowly along with it, with his mother looking out at him, the reflected faces of the people on the platform slipping over the glass, until the platform ends."
Pavel lives in Stalin's Russia during World War II, and has the job of collecting, archiving, and burning the work of artists. He's like Montag from Fahrenheit 451, and he has read the work of the artists that he's destroying. He has a mother, a neighbor's dog, a friend, a wife long passed, and utter terror. He bargains daily to keep himself alive, physically if not morally, and the grayness of his universe creeps into the bones of the reader through this novel.
There are good people in this book, and people whose only interest is their own ambition and/or their own livelihood. There are children, lovers, dogs, old people, intellectuals, workers, party members...and the terror of the Stalin era means that none of that matters whatsoever. An utterly believable portrait not of a dystopia but of reality.
And none of that matters.
"When the train pulls away, he walks slowly along with it, with his mother looking out at him, the reflected faces of the people on the platform slipping over the glass, until the platform ends."
December 10, 2007
The story weaves a tale of a former literature teacher turned archivist in 1930's Moscow. His task is to destroy the literary work of political prisoners.
This book has been showing up on lots of Best of 2007 lists. As I read it, I was confused as to why. First, let me say it was well-written from a technical sense. Good sound plot. Interesting lead character. A build in the story. But overall I was let down. I think there were a few things that just didn't sit well with me.
First, it was written in third person. I've really been into first person narration lately. REALLY into it. And I don't know that I can say "lately." This is pretty much a mainstay with books I like. I enjoy when one of the character narrates. The narrator can vary from chapter to chapter but I like it always to be someone involved in the story.
Second, I hated the ending. Many people will disagree with me. I've read other reviews of people who LOVED the ending. I just didn't think it did enough to conclude what was a very powerful story.
Third, the writing just wasn't aesthetic enough for me. Prose doesn't always have to flowery and beautiful. But I'm critical of authors who constantly write in short, choppy sentences. Sure, it was a way to understand the character's (often unfinished) thoughts. It just started to bug me after a while. And, relatedly, the book centers around an archivist who reads beautiful literature for a living. Such beautiful literature he risks death to steal a work. I expected more of those beautiful words to be used in the story. No suck luck though.
This book has been showing up on lots of Best of 2007 lists. As I read it, I was confused as to why. First, let me say it was well-written from a technical sense. Good sound plot. Interesting lead character. A build in the story. But overall I was let down. I think there were a few things that just didn't sit well with me.
First, it was written in third person. I've really been into first person narration lately. REALLY into it. And I don't know that I can say "lately." This is pretty much a mainstay with books I like. I enjoy when one of the character narrates. The narrator can vary from chapter to chapter but I like it always to be someone involved in the story.
Second, I hated the ending. Many people will disagree with me. I've read other reviews of people who LOVED the ending. I just didn't think it did enough to conclude what was a very powerful story.
Third, the writing just wasn't aesthetic enough for me. Prose doesn't always have to flowery and beautiful. But I'm critical of authors who constantly write in short, choppy sentences. Sure, it was a way to understand the character's (often unfinished) thoughts. It just started to bug me after a while. And, relatedly, the book centers around an archivist who reads beautiful literature for a living. Such beautiful literature he risks death to steal a work. I expected more of those beautiful words to be used in the story. No suck luck though.
December 4, 2022
Es una novela que recrea superficialmente lo que pudo vivir un habitante de la antigua URSS. El ojo del Estado siempre encima de los ciudadanos soviéticos buscando incansablemente elementos antirrevolucionarios. Me recordó a “1984” aunque sin llegar al nivel de éste en mi opinión.
Aunque el libro está carente de situaciones de acción o de emoción (eso me faltó en esta novela), sí sentí angustia por lo que iba viviendo el personaje a través de su día a día, las medidas preventivas que tenía que tomar para que no fuese pillado in fraganti cometiendo, a ojos del régimen, delitos con consecuencias fatales; y la desconfianza que te podía generar cualquiera con quien tuvieses un comentario “no aceptado” por el sistema soviético.
Sin ser un libro con el cual haya sentido la necesidad de leerlo de manera frenética porque me pareció un poco lineal, sí que me invitó a una gran reflexión y por ello vale la pena ojear:
Imaginemos cuánta información, aventuras, conocimientos han sido condenados al ostracismo por el fanatismo de cualquier índole, dónde estaría la humanidad si toda esa información no se hubiese perdido. Nosotros, que dedicamos parte de nuestra vida a leer y compartir nuestras lecturas enriqueciéndonos así los unos a los otros, deberíamos valorar mucho más a todos esos héroes anónim@s que dieron incluso su vida para conservar esos manuscritos que la sinrazón quiso borrar de la faz de la tierra. Luchemos porque el conocimiento pueda llegar a todos y valorémoslo puesto que no sabremos cuándo se nos catalogará de prohibido.
Aunque el libro está carente de situaciones de acción o de emoción (eso me faltó en esta novela), sí sentí angustia por lo que iba viviendo el personaje a través de su día a día, las medidas preventivas que tenía que tomar para que no fuese pillado in fraganti cometiendo, a ojos del régimen, delitos con consecuencias fatales; y la desconfianza que te podía generar cualquiera con quien tuvieses un comentario “no aceptado” por el sistema soviético.
Sin ser un libro con el cual haya sentido la necesidad de leerlo de manera frenética porque me pareció un poco lineal, sí que me invitó a una gran reflexión y por ello vale la pena ojear:
Imaginemos cuánta información, aventuras, conocimientos han sido condenados al ostracismo por el fanatismo de cualquier índole, dónde estaría la humanidad si toda esa información no se hubiese perdido. Nosotros, que dedicamos parte de nuestra vida a leer y compartir nuestras lecturas enriqueciéndonos así los unos a los otros, deberíamos valorar mucho más a todos esos héroes anónim@s que dieron incluso su vida para conservar esos manuscritos que la sinrazón quiso borrar de la faz de la tierra. Luchemos porque el conocimiento pueda llegar a todos y valorémoslo puesto que no sabremos cuándo se nos catalogará de prohibido.
March 26, 2008
This book starts right before Germany and Russia became allies, on the brink of WWII, and follows a few months in the life of an archivist who is tasked with systematically destroying original manuscripts of novels, poems, essays, and short stories of writers who have been condemned by Stalin's regime. He decides to save an unpublished short story by one of his favorite authors, a decision that could mean his death if it is discovered. This act of quiet rebellion opens the door for him to rebel in larger ways, sealing his fate further.
If I had a better grasp of the Russian literary tradition, I'm sure my appreciation of this book would have increased. The most recognizable Russian novelists' work is quoted, cited, and referred to often; I didn't recognize other authors, including the one whose short story is saved, but that's probably my own ignorance rather than evidence of made-up characters. The little I know about Russian literature is enough to understand that this book follows those good ol' themes of hopelessness, helplessness, despair, and powerlessness. But this book has a lot to say about the power of literature to overcome enormous obstacles.
The one part of the novel that left me confused was the author's understanding of his own fate--whether the act of saving the story did indeed have all the consequences he thought it would, or whether he was just paranoid. Or maybe it doesn't matter?
If I had a better grasp of the Russian literary tradition, I'm sure my appreciation of this book would have increased. The most recognizable Russian novelists' work is quoted, cited, and referred to often; I didn't recognize other authors, including the one whose short story is saved, but that's probably my own ignorance rather than evidence of made-up characters. The little I know about Russian literature is enough to understand that this book follows those good ol' themes of hopelessness, helplessness, despair, and powerlessness. But this book has a lot to say about the power of literature to overcome enormous obstacles.
The one part of the novel that left me confused was the author's understanding of his own fate--whether the act of saving the story did indeed have all the consequences he thought it would, or whether he was just paranoid. Or maybe it doesn't matter?
December 9, 2010
I had forgotten I'd read this until I saw it again at the library today. Now, that probably doesn't sound good, but I do that rather frequently. It isn't really a statement about the book. However, I very quickly remembered what it was about simply from the cover, so that should say something.
For someone like myself who read Fahrenheit 451 at a seminal point in maturation, books about the sacred nature of text and author's works always entice me. This is sort of the Russian version of Bradbury's famous dystopian account, with two major differences: this story details the past, specifically Russia's distrust and fear-fueled aggressions, and it very well could have happened. The descriptions available about the book give enough background that I think I can jump ahead to say that this book does not end happily. With familiar faces disappearing suddenly as purported "dissidents," you can't expect that much good will come. But Travis Holland's prose, expressing the encroaching solitude and the struggles of the main character to overcome his wife's sudden death and his mother's descent into senility, is expansive and beautifully cold in a way only a Russian tale's could be. I recommend it. You will finish it feeling more empty than when you started it, but you will enjoy it as the book siphons away your spirit.
For someone like myself who read Fahrenheit 451 at a seminal point in maturation, books about the sacred nature of text and author's works always entice me. This is sort of the Russian version of Bradbury's famous dystopian account, with two major differences: this story details the past, specifically Russia's distrust and fear-fueled aggressions, and it very well could have happened. The descriptions available about the book give enough background that I think I can jump ahead to say that this book does not end happily. With familiar faces disappearing suddenly as purported "dissidents," you can't expect that much good will come. But Travis Holland's prose, expressing the encroaching solitude and the struggles of the main character to overcome his wife's sudden death and his mother's descent into senility, is expansive and beautifully cold in a way only a Russian tale's could be. I recommend it. You will finish it feeling more empty than when you started it, but you will enjoy it as the book siphons away your spirit.
August 3, 2011
This novel, set in pre-war Russia, has been compared to Orwell’s 1984 with its constant air of despair and fleeting moments of escape and humanity. I think it even trumps 1984 in one respect: the characters. There are several different individuals you can touch and feel: flawed Pavel, his cynical and outspoken friend Semyon, his boss Kutyrev who lacks any self-awareness, his naïve friend Victor and his all-too-aware two-up boss Radlov. Someone for everyone there. The whole atmosphere is summed up half way through when Kutyrev rhetorically asks Pavel “or do you think you’re better than the rest of us?”. It all becomes a bit inevitable then.
But I struggled with the point of the backstory – it could have been set in any dictatorship anywhere in the world. 1939 Moscow played little part. I will certainly read Travis Holland’s next novel. He is a gifted writer, but I am equally interested to see just what type of genre he intends to create.
But I struggled with the point of the backstory – it could have been set in any dictatorship anywhere in the world. 1939 Moscow played little part. I will certainly read Travis Holland’s next novel. He is a gifted writer, but I am equally interested to see just what type of genre he intends to create.
July 18, 2010
A small exquisite book about the purge year 1939 in Stalin's Russia, an archivist in the Lubianka is confronted with a beaten Babel, and realizes he has Babel's last story in his hands. The book concerns the Archivist's growing realization that one cannot hide in the belly of the beast, that one is part of the beast. The kindness of strangers, and their treachery, and one's own. Wonderful, subtle insights about the human condition that I found myself writing into my journal. For instance, the protagonist, Pavel, sits with his aging mother: "How distant his childhood seems this morning. For all his love for her, there are times now when it feels as if they are less mother and son than simply two people tied precariously together by shared history." A quiet, nuanced book despite the gravity and terror of the subject matter.
November 15, 2010
Un libro notevole, una scrittura asciutta e insieme evocativa, mi ha fatto venire in mente l'odore della neve. Ma non della neve bianca, pulita, purificatrice, piuttosto della neve sporca, ridotta a fanghiglia da piedi distratti sotto un cielo cupo, che nasconde appena la miseria e lo squallore di ogni dittatura.
E' un libro coraggioso, che cerca di descrivere cosa vuol dire vivere rinnegando se stessi e rinunciando a tutto quello in cui si crede, riuscendo ciò nonostante a compiere un gesto piccolo ma pieno di significato come quello di salvare dal rogo il manoscritto di un racconto.
Non c'è un lieto fine, anzi nel dipanarsi della vicenda la speranza di una redenzione si fa sempre più fioca, tuttavia lo consiglio a tutti per non dimenticare quanto sia preziosa la libertà che sempre diamo per scontata, anche quella, forse banale, di potersi scegliere e leggere un libro.
E' un libro coraggioso, che cerca di descrivere cosa vuol dire vivere rinnegando se stessi e rinunciando a tutto quello in cui si crede, riuscendo ciò nonostante a compiere un gesto piccolo ma pieno di significato come quello di salvare dal rogo il manoscritto di un racconto.
Non c'è un lieto fine, anzi nel dipanarsi della vicenda la speranza di una redenzione si fa sempre più fioca, tuttavia lo consiglio a tutti per non dimenticare quanto sia preziosa la libertà che sempre diamo per scontata, anche quella, forse banale, di potersi scegliere e leggere un libro.
August 4, 2011
This was probably one of the best novels I have read for a while. It was undoubtedly a sad tale, the story centres around Pavel an ex teacher who has found himself working in an archive of forbidden writers. As the story moves through the great writers of Pavel's time are being rounded up and imprisoned, and it is Pavel who archives their works. Slowly his soul is crushed by the new regime of Stalinist Russia as he slowly concludes that soon he will be next on the list. This is a very well written story which ultimately ends with little hope, there is no happy ending for Pavel and his family just the knowledge that things will not get better for them while the regime continues. A powerful story about coping with lack for freedom, living with terror, and no hope. Truly sad but well worth a look if you haven't already.
October 26, 2012
Obiettivo noia!
La Storia di un'Archivista, benchè uscito nel 2007, sembra un libro (minore) di oltre mezzo secolo fa con un'atmosfera che talora ricorda (ma con ben altra forza!) le tematiche del film "Le vite degli altri", con l'Unione Sovietica Stalinista al posto della DDR di Honecker.
A differenza del bel film tedesco, qui però non c'è quasi nessun tentativo di uscire dai luoghi comuni del genere: la schedatura, la paura di controllati/controllori, la sparizione di chi si è lasciato andare ad affermazioni incaute, le figure caricaturali degli stolidi uomini di partito, la crisi interiore del singolo che prende coscienza della situazione, ecc.
Inevitabilmente il lettore, arrivato con fatica alla fine nella vana attesa di un colpo di sceneggiatura, si chiede cosa diavolo l'abbia indotto a scegliere un libro così inutile.
La Storia di un'Archivista, benchè uscito nel 2007, sembra un libro (minore) di oltre mezzo secolo fa con un'atmosfera che talora ricorda (ma con ben altra forza!) le tematiche del film "Le vite degli altri", con l'Unione Sovietica Stalinista al posto della DDR di Honecker.
A differenza del bel film tedesco, qui però non c'è quasi nessun tentativo di uscire dai luoghi comuni del genere: la schedatura, la paura di controllati/controllori, la sparizione di chi si è lasciato andare ad affermazioni incaute, le figure caricaturali degli stolidi uomini di partito, la crisi interiore del singolo che prende coscienza della situazione, ecc.
Inevitabilmente il lettore, arrivato con fatica alla fine nella vana attesa di un colpo di sceneggiatura, si chiede cosa diavolo l'abbia indotto a scegliere un libro così inutile.
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