David King’s sumptuous visual history of the Soviet Union is an outstanding fusion of the graphic reference work and the compelling historical account. Its blend of superb photography, creative and influential agitprop and art that was so avant-garde it could have qualified as reconnaissance, leaves you almost overwhelmed. Where to begin you ask yourself as you leaf through 350 pages filled with images that sharpen your curiosity and demand your immediate attention. Well, here’s my advice … begin at the beginning; then after a few minutes stop and spin the pages until something catches your eye; repeat that last action a few more times and abracadabra, you’re hooked.
If however you’re a big fan of structure then there’s a linear narrative to be had, beginning with the October revolution of 1917 and progressing to the death, in 1953, of the blood soaked red Tsar, Josef Stalin. The text accompanying the images is crammed into narrow columns and this efficient use of space allows King to maximise the word count in his narrative, and boy does he make good use of it. The information imparted is pertinent and fascinating; detailed yet concise; and a cool analytical detachment is maintained that gives the book a scholarly air. All the main elements of soviet life and iconography are here, from the good; Sergei Eisenstein, Constructivism, Cubo-Futurism and Suprematism; to the bad; the wars, the famines, the secret police and the whole rotten inevitability of totalitarianism when it is allowed to hold sway over a people’s lives for decade after decade.
Sometimes the book is beautiful. Beauty is found in the faces of ordinary people, captured in a single moment of their lives, at a time and in a place where photography is still rare. And it is found in the riot of colour and shapes in images so abstract that they seem to have decoupled themselves from the horror of the government that has inadvertently sponsored their birth. But sometimes the book is dark, very dark indeed.
On pages 281-282 we discover two crisp well taken photographs, opposite one another, each filling its page. On the left is a dishevelled, frightened looking man in late middle age – he is the famous, avant-garde theatre director Vsevolod Meyerhold and he has just been arrested by the secret police, the NKVD. Across from him is his wife, the beautiful actress Zinaida Raikh, her soulful dark eyes gazing out at you from across the decades. The accompanying text bears witness to the true character of the soviet state. It contains within it a letter from Meyerhold, written in captivity, kept in his case file and addressed to Foreign Minister Molotov (it is unknown as to whether or not it was sent). In it Meyerhold details the horrific torture he endured at the hands of his NKVD interrogators. It is harrowing and very hard to read, but even this is eclipsed when you read on and discover the fate of his wife Zinaida, who one week after his arrest was murdered in their Moscow flat by the secret police. They gouged her eyes out. Less than a year later Meyerhold was himself executed. It’s at times like this in the book that you’re glad of King’s analytical prose style.
If I have one criticism it’s that I felt the book could have used another 10 or so pages to properly set up the conditions in Russia in the decade before the revolution. However that aside this is a must for all students of Russian/Soviet history and it will also appeal to anyone with a love of the visual and an interest in the past.