Very interesting book with a lot of discussible moments (both positive and negative).
This is a very good historical novel about a complex and interesting time period in the life of our future country: the epoch of Запорозька Січ under Петро Конашевич-Сагайдачний and life of Ukrainian people at the time overall, i.e., the circumstances that directly preceded our future “unification” with Russia several years later. Although “Людолови” never mentions this “unification” and Богдан Хмельницький yet, from the described historical realities, you may understand the background for this imminent tragedy of our nation (the constant threat from the south, a dire need in a permanent/resident military force and thus a success of a nation that was an army by nature [Cossacks = Ukrainians], and, at the same time, the growing social/political insecurity of a stateless nation divided between more developed and aggressive empires, the highly democratic nature of our people even at this violent time, the hard choices our ancestors had to make every day and the apparently chaotic/decentralized way in which these choices were made, etc.).
I personally have very little understanding of this epoch, so I was somewhat afraid to read this book, but I should say that it is a pretty good introduction to it for such ignorant people as I am/was, so I am glad that I picked it up. I cannot say that I understand the time well now (I have to read real history books for this, apparently), but you can learn from “Людолови” quite a lot even from a zero/close-to-zero point (and probably even more if you already have some basic knowledge about it). As I understand, Зінаїда Тулуб made a great effort to represent true historical realities based on the available archival documents and the best knowledge of the time. Her narration often has a clearly “educational” character, so sometimes you can feel as if you are reading an entertaining but thorough textbook rather than a fictional novel, but I appreciated these long and very illuminating passages about various aspects of life in feudal Ukraine, Poland, Crimea, and Turkey. The book also has a lot of helpful footnotes that allow you to expand your understanding of the real historical background of the events described.
As this is a “novel” rather than a “textbook,” it also contains several interesting storylines about fictional and real-but-fictionalized characters, and this part of the book is also quite interesting. First of all, it enlivenes the book immensely, and you would be horrified, moved, worried, proud of, fall in love with, etc., following these people. If the “educational” pages of the book may look somewhat dry and overloaded with serious and sometimes boring information, the fictional narration is often really fascinating and adds a necessary depth and humanity to the historical part of the book. I was especially grateful for the author’s representation of very different people, who represent different nations and different social strata, and the complex relationships between them. If, at the beginning of the book, you may have an impression that the story would be mostly very black-and-white (“good Ukrainians,” “bad Poles,” “beastly Tatars”), you would be surprised by the complexity and quite sophisticated world-building at the time later.
I wasn’t a fan of some aspects of fictionalization, though. For example, I did not understand why the author decided to represent Анастасія Повченська (the future wife of Петро Конашевич-Сагайдачний) as “Роксолана”; it does not correspond to the historical truth (real Анастасія Повченська was never captured by the Tatars and never was a wife of a Turkish sultan), although I found that this is a popular myth. I cannot say whether the author really believed in this myth (I hope not) or just decided to mix it up in order to make the book more entertaining and expand the area of covered history, but this storyline definitely looks redundant and too far-fetched here. I also have similar doubts about a highly tense storyline of Галшка Гулевичівна’s son Михайло about which I do not find any confirmations now. (Talking about Галшка Гулевичівна: I would LOVE to learn more about this extraordinary woman, but unfortunately, “Людолови” provides very little information about her, although she is one of the main characters here.)
Also, I seriously resented a very specific author’s manner of killing her characters (even the most beloved ones!) in order to get rid of them at some point and switch to different storylines. When she does not kill them, she just abandons them sooner or later, so you would never learn what happened to them after you were diligently introduced into their lives during several chapters and started falling in love with them…
Still, it’s a very good book that definitely should be read and discussed today, especially in view of the current revision of our relationships with the Crimean Tatars, Poles, and Russians. The novel provides a very important historical background for the future development of these relationships between our nations and allows us to reconsider many things today. By the way, you can see how personal this story is for the author if you read her memoirs (I haven’t read them yet, but I am very much interested in doing it as soon as possible!). The memoirs were written in Russian originally and, as I understand, have never been translated into Ukrainian (why? why?!):
“Тулубы – прямые потомки запорожских казаков. По семейным преданиям, род Тулубов происходил из Крыма. Может быть они были из турок. Владевших после ликвидации в Крыму Генуэзских колоний всем побережьем Крыма, или из татар, которые населяли внутренние области полуострова. Конечно, могли они быть и из христианского населения Крыма, то есть из вольноотпущенных невольников, взятых татарами-людоловами в ясырь, наконец могли они быть и из осевших там приезжих торговцев, или просто случайным пришлым людом на полуострове. Как бы там ни было, но в детстве слыхала я, что предки отъехали из Крыма на Украину и были приняты в войско запорожское, и получили земли в пределах «Вольностей Запорожских» на Полтавщине. Отъехали из-под крымского хана не одни Тулубы: Кочубей, Гамалеи, Дженджилеи тоже родом были из Крыма и в разное время перекочевали оттуда. Очевидно, основывались они на феодальном праве перехода от одного сюзерена к другому. Так, например, отъехали из Литвы на Русь – Романовы, а князь Курбский – из Московщины в Польшу. Как бы там ни было, но в конце 16 и в начале 17 века Тулубы были уже казаками и считались «казацкой старшиною».”
I am honestly surprised that I haven’t heard about this epic novel until very recently, as this book was published and republished many times in the USSR and should have been known to any readers who were interested in historical novels about Ukraine, together with books by Павло Загребельний, for example (and I personally read Павло Загребельний’s books eagerly and loved them). When I was reading “Людолови,” I was stricken by a powerful “Ukrainian-centric” point of view here, probably more pronounced than in Павло Загребельний’s books (here, “Russia” is essentially non-existent, and the Russians are mostly referred to as “Moscovites” and overall look like a very secondary, backward, and insignificant nation, while Poland (Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth) is a great, proud, and totally European country, and the Ukrainian Cossacks are a very strong and demanding ethnic entity and proto-state, albeit still amorphous and dependant in terms of national sovereignty. All this is totally agreeable with the historical realities of the period described (late 16th/early 17th century), but I imagine that the Russians have a very different opinion about history and their place there at the time, and I am sure that publication of such book would be impossible in modern Russia if we imagine that it became a new Soviet-like empire and controlled/censored all the cultural products of the nations it occupied.
At the same time, I could not understand why such a cool and important book about our history is not republished in independent Ukraine today (the last publication was in 1994, although I have seen that “Віхола” plans to republish it in 2024). When I finished the book, I understood why (probably) modern publishers are not very excited about its republication: the book, with all its obvious benefits, is also very pro-Bolshevist, on a very fundamental level. All the storylines there focus on the struggles of poor people and their oppression by the rich and powerful, regardless of their nationality. It is obvious from the very beginning, but the ending is directly “leading” us to conclusions that something like a “worldwide proletarian revolution” is not only necessary to achieve justice but is inevitable sooner or later, and the author is apparently in sorrow that the time period she described was still too far from it. I don’t even think that all this was the result of Soviet censorship; I suppose that the author was sincerely believing in this “proletarian justice” and “worldwide revolution” herself, even despite the fact that she was repressed by the Soviets in the 1930s and spent almost 20 years in the GULAG and “in exile.”
Anyway, the book still deserves our attention today, despite this proto-Bolshevism, although I hope that modern publishers will add some historical and literary commentary that would explain these aspects of the story for today’s readers. I also think that this book has a great potential for movie/theater adaptations, as it is really epic, poetic, beautiful, humane, and overall makes us feel proud of our nation and our history.