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Tale of the White Crow: Coming of Age in Post-Soviet Latvia
In a journal format, a young Latvian girl chronicles her adventures growing up in Latvia during the break-up of the Soviet Union in the 1990s. Against a background of social and political turmoil, the narrator survives school and university, an American religious cult, and the Russian disco scene.
- GenresNonfictionHistory
232 pages, Paperback
First published August 1, 2003
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December 21, 2025This was a difficult book to rate. It's a roughly edited diary about a little known country called Latvia. To hit all my 5-star wickets of readability, style, content, personality, and message, this little book falls far short. However, I genuinely really liked it because I spent a year living in Riga, not too far from where Iveta grows up. I'm familiar with every street she describes from Kronvalda to Jurmala. So I'm giving it the 4 stars in the hopes that others will pick up this gem in the raw and learn more about a country I loved and called home. Below is a short paragraph from my travel blog that mentions this book in relationship to understanding racism in Eastern European countries. I'd still like to give it the more thorough review it deserves but for now here's a few thoughts on "Tale of the White Crow."
Reading is often how I search for empathy with personalities and cultures that I don’t understand. Non-fiction (and sometimes even more so fiction) can bridge that gap from my own worldview to a totally foreign perspective. There aren’t too many books written about Latvia, but I bought and read everything available in English. One book in particular, "The Tale of the White Crow," really gave me an idea of why these people do what they do. One day I’d like to write a review of this book, but for now here’s the cliff notes: Tale of the White Crow is an Anne Frank style diary by a Latvian teenage girl during the transition between Soviet occupation and Latvian independence. Her writing is rough but raw and real. Among many other things, it helped me to understand the “Baltic mask” – a blank distrustful expression covering so many emotions, hopes, and disappointments inside. Although her diary did not talk about racism at all, it helped me to get a better understanding of the Baltic mindset and realize that, while racism is still wrong, it makes a lot of sense here. To understand another person is half the battle, and books like Iveta's are often the only windows available to outsiders who care enough to look past the stoic faces of Eastern Europe and find the vulnerability buried layers deep inside.
Reading is often how I search for empathy with personalities and cultures that I don’t understand. Non-fiction (and sometimes even more so fiction) can bridge that gap from my own worldview to a totally foreign perspective. There aren’t too many books written about Latvia, but I bought and read everything available in English. One book in particular, "The Tale of the White Crow," really gave me an idea of why these people do what they do. One day I’d like to write a review of this book, but for now here’s the cliff notes: Tale of the White Crow is an Anne Frank style diary by a Latvian teenage girl during the transition between Soviet occupation and Latvian independence. Her writing is rough but raw and real. Among many other things, it helped me to understand the “Baltic mask” – a blank distrustful expression covering so many emotions, hopes, and disappointments inside. Although her diary did not talk about racism at all, it helped me to get a better understanding of the Baltic mindset and realize that, while racism is still wrong, it makes a lot of sense here. To understand another person is half the battle, and books like Iveta's are often the only windows available to outsiders who care enough to look past the stoic faces of Eastern Europe and find the vulnerability buried layers deep inside.
July 15, 2011
“The Tale of the White Crow” is a straightforward, diary-form narrative written by Iveta Melinka: an adolescent girl growing up in 1990s Latvia. As such, her account honestly details not only key social and political issues unique to the country at this time as it gained fledging independence, but also chronicles her own – more universal – concerns of growing up, parental disputes, peer pressure and relationships; as she seeks to establish her own independence on her journey into adulthood.
I should clarify here that this is not a fictional narrative, rather the edited actual diary of the author, produced in tandem with the American publisher David Pichaske – a Fulbright lecturer in Latvia at the time who met Iveta in a film class. As he states in his brief, yet insightful, preface to the book:
“I went to Latvia thinking “book” right from the start. I gradually discovered, however, that Iveta had a better story to tell than I did. In some ways she was a better story-teller: fresh, enthusiastic, a good eye for detail and a good ear for speech. I had a ton of photos, but Iveta had a life.”
And this is what we get in this book: we gain a true insight of a life lived in the Latvian capital city Riga at the turn of the millennium, during a time of real flux for this complex nation. Through Iveta’s eyes we gain an unmediated, realist view of everyday Latvian life: the communal apartments (complete with neighbourly wars over the use of shared kitchens and bathrooms), the food shortages and the euphoria – then disillusionment – of independence from the Soviet Union. At one point Iveta’s father astutely observes that before independence there was not enough food in the shops - whereas post-independence the shops are full of food but no-one can afford it…
These insights are all the more interesting in being filtered through, and overlaid with, the everyday and universal concerns of Iveta herself as she makes the transition form child to adult – concerns which would no doubt resonate with young and old readers in the West (they certainly conjured up some of my own teenage memories!). For instance her painful descriptions of sitting out school discos without a dance partner, her self-consciousness that her parents cannot afford to buy her the latest fashions, and the anxiety of not being ‘part of the in-crowd’ at school. Indeed the title of this work comes from her analogy of her, and a select few friends, at her school - whilst the majority of her peers are the norm: i.e. black crows, she and her friends are not - and so stand out like "white crows” in the flock. It is heartening, and a sign of her growing maturity during the course of this book, that she comes to see this as strength rather than a weakness.
The book itself, whilst in diary form, does not follow a rigid day-to-day format, rather it is split up into individually numbered chunks of narrative which often skip days or even weeks. This probably reflects the way in which it was written and also a degree of judicious editing (around 66% of the original diaries according to the publisher). What does – fortunately – remain, are Iveta’s colourful observations and individual interpretation of certain English phrases, which actually work very well and serve to remind one that we are reading this work in translation. Stylistic features such as “a lot of bullshits,” I think add a certain colloquial colour to this book.
I must emphasise here that, whilst this is essentially a diary transcript, Iveta has an effective descriptive ability that raises this above the average journal. Her sense of teenage isolation and awkwardness could easily have become cliched but is actually portrayed in an engaging way - and also her descriptions of the very real sense of uncertainly and potential threat felt by the populace, as independence drew near yet the Soviet forces belligerently remained in situ is palpable and effectively written. Similarly, her description of the disillusionment amongst the older generation post-independence – represented by her parents – is both sensitively and poignantly portrayed. Throughout the early stages of this book, the family is desperate to move out of their communal apartment and hope that the new regime will lead to this. It ultimately does, but their relocation to a flat in a Soviet-era high rise on the outskirts of town (largely populated by Russians equally disillusioned by their reduction of status as a consequence of independence) neatly demonstrates that independence in this region as a whole has not been without its problems and hardships for the people who fought for it.
The tensions between the long-subjugated natives of this country and the Russians who moved here under Soviet rule (and enjoyed a certain privileged status until independence) is a striking one. I have encountered this in a number of previous locations along the borders of the former USSR. One example was my trip back in March 2009 to Moldova (see my blog on “Lost Province” by Stephen Henighan, which also gave a realistic depiction of life in that country – albeit from an outsider’s perspective).
I fear that I am in danger of going into too much detail of the narrative here and spoiling the plot for potential readers, however I have to address the key ‘plot point’ as it where, for this book. Around the midway stage of this book Iveta strikes up a conversation with an attractive American woman named Lisa who, it turns out, is a senior figure in “The Church of Christ”. This US-funded church, it turns out, is an unofficial evangelical mission operating throughout the former Soviet Union and which has recently established a foothold in Latvia post-independence. Iveta is, of course, flattered by Lisa’s attention and is soon ensconced in the Church – despite her own misgivings and those of her parents.
Whilst Iveta’s astute observations on Latvian life and growing up continue throughout the second half of this work, they are largely filtered through the perspective of her involvement with this organisation (and along the way she provides a number of insights into the controlling techniques employed by sects such as this). I found this a bit of a shame as a reader, as this curtailed some of the elements of her narrative that I could empathise with – although I guess this is partly the point: the fact that ‘Churches’ such as this, filling the post-Soviet vacuum, are all too easily in a position to skew the emotional and social development of young people looking for answers in an uncertain environment...
Also, I do feel here that in describing the insidious influence of this US-based sect upon her youth, Iveta is well aware of the obvious analogy to be made in terms of Western influences filling the influential void left by the Soviet society within Latvia – often for self-serving rather than altruistic ends. And this is no bad thing - it demonstrates, as I hope this journey does as a whole, the value of literature in reflecting not only individual countries, but in the growing global nature of our world. The publisher, David Pichaske, sums this point up excellently in his preface to this book:
“You’re holding in your hands a truly remarkable artefact – the story of a girl coming of age in Riga, Latvia, written in English, edited in the United States, printed in Outer Mongolia. Who in the year of my birth, or even the year of Iveta’s birth, could have imagined such a thing?”
I should clarify here that this is not a fictional narrative, rather the edited actual diary of the author, produced in tandem with the American publisher David Pichaske – a Fulbright lecturer in Latvia at the time who met Iveta in a film class. As he states in his brief, yet insightful, preface to the book:
“I went to Latvia thinking “book” right from the start. I gradually discovered, however, that Iveta had a better story to tell than I did. In some ways she was a better story-teller: fresh, enthusiastic, a good eye for detail and a good ear for speech. I had a ton of photos, but Iveta had a life.”
And this is what we get in this book: we gain a true insight of a life lived in the Latvian capital city Riga at the turn of the millennium, during a time of real flux for this complex nation. Through Iveta’s eyes we gain an unmediated, realist view of everyday Latvian life: the communal apartments (complete with neighbourly wars over the use of shared kitchens and bathrooms), the food shortages and the euphoria – then disillusionment – of independence from the Soviet Union. At one point Iveta’s father astutely observes that before independence there was not enough food in the shops - whereas post-independence the shops are full of food but no-one can afford it…
These insights are all the more interesting in being filtered through, and overlaid with, the everyday and universal concerns of Iveta herself as she makes the transition form child to adult – concerns which would no doubt resonate with young and old readers in the West (they certainly conjured up some of my own teenage memories!). For instance her painful descriptions of sitting out school discos without a dance partner, her self-consciousness that her parents cannot afford to buy her the latest fashions, and the anxiety of not being ‘part of the in-crowd’ at school. Indeed the title of this work comes from her analogy of her, and a select few friends, at her school - whilst the majority of her peers are the norm: i.e. black crows, she and her friends are not - and so stand out like "white crows” in the flock. It is heartening, and a sign of her growing maturity during the course of this book, that she comes to see this as strength rather than a weakness.
The book itself, whilst in diary form, does not follow a rigid day-to-day format, rather it is split up into individually numbered chunks of narrative which often skip days or even weeks. This probably reflects the way in which it was written and also a degree of judicious editing (around 66% of the original diaries according to the publisher). What does – fortunately – remain, are Iveta’s colourful observations and individual interpretation of certain English phrases, which actually work very well and serve to remind one that we are reading this work in translation. Stylistic features such as “a lot of bullshits,” I think add a certain colloquial colour to this book.
I must emphasise here that, whilst this is essentially a diary transcript, Iveta has an effective descriptive ability that raises this above the average journal. Her sense of teenage isolation and awkwardness could easily have become cliched but is actually portrayed in an engaging way - and also her descriptions of the very real sense of uncertainly and potential threat felt by the populace, as independence drew near yet the Soviet forces belligerently remained in situ is palpable and effectively written. Similarly, her description of the disillusionment amongst the older generation post-independence – represented by her parents – is both sensitively and poignantly portrayed. Throughout the early stages of this book, the family is desperate to move out of their communal apartment and hope that the new regime will lead to this. It ultimately does, but their relocation to a flat in a Soviet-era high rise on the outskirts of town (largely populated by Russians equally disillusioned by their reduction of status as a consequence of independence) neatly demonstrates that independence in this region as a whole has not been without its problems and hardships for the people who fought for it.
The tensions between the long-subjugated natives of this country and the Russians who moved here under Soviet rule (and enjoyed a certain privileged status until independence) is a striking one. I have encountered this in a number of previous locations along the borders of the former USSR. One example was my trip back in March 2009 to Moldova (see my blog on “Lost Province” by Stephen Henighan, which also gave a realistic depiction of life in that country – albeit from an outsider’s perspective).
I fear that I am in danger of going into too much detail of the narrative here and spoiling the plot for potential readers, however I have to address the key ‘plot point’ as it where, for this book. Around the midway stage of this book Iveta strikes up a conversation with an attractive American woman named Lisa who, it turns out, is a senior figure in “The Church of Christ”. This US-funded church, it turns out, is an unofficial evangelical mission operating throughout the former Soviet Union and which has recently established a foothold in Latvia post-independence. Iveta is, of course, flattered by Lisa’s attention and is soon ensconced in the Church – despite her own misgivings and those of her parents.
Whilst Iveta’s astute observations on Latvian life and growing up continue throughout the second half of this work, they are largely filtered through the perspective of her involvement with this organisation (and along the way she provides a number of insights into the controlling techniques employed by sects such as this). I found this a bit of a shame as a reader, as this curtailed some of the elements of her narrative that I could empathise with – although I guess this is partly the point: the fact that ‘Churches’ such as this, filling the post-Soviet vacuum, are all too easily in a position to skew the emotional and social development of young people looking for answers in an uncertain environment...
Also, I do feel here that in describing the insidious influence of this US-based sect upon her youth, Iveta is well aware of the obvious analogy to be made in terms of Western influences filling the influential void left by the Soviet society within Latvia – often for self-serving rather than altruistic ends. And this is no bad thing - it demonstrates, as I hope this journey does as a whole, the value of literature in reflecting not only individual countries, but in the growing global nature of our world. The publisher, David Pichaske, sums this point up excellently in his preface to this book:
“You’re holding in your hands a truly remarkable artefact – the story of a girl coming of age in Riga, Latvia, written in English, edited in the United States, printed in Outer Mongolia. Who in the year of my birth, or even the year of Iveta’s birth, could have imagined such a thing?”
December 26, 2016
This book is set in Riga, Latvia during the 1990s. During this time Latvia was under the Soviet's rule from 1940 until 1991. This novel is written in a diary format with the protagonist, Iveta Melnika, living her teenage years in this transitioning Latvia. This diary is actually not a fictional account but what really happened to the author, Melnika.
During this time, her family struggles with money and Iveta struggles with feeling she is an outcast. She compares herself to being a white crow dreaming of becoming a standard black crow (hence the cover art). This becomes the theme for the first part of the book, along with Latvia fighting for its independence. Then the book transitions to religion when Iveta finds the Church of Christ. However, this church turns out to be more of a controlling cult that Iveta finds herself trapped in. Finally, towards the end of this book, Iveta tries to find a serious relationship but all the men she encounters only want a fling.
I really enjoyed this book. I found it very interesting to read about the changes between a controlled and free Latvia. Iveta is very honest about her experiences and she is very easy to relate to. For me, this book was a very entertaining read with a satisfying ending which is why I gave it five stars.
Here are some of my favorite lines from the book:
"If we are equal, then why are all the communists and the government people having better summer cottages than we the common people, and none of them are sharing the apartment with another family? I think they are not setting the best example of equality for us."
"I think monkeys are more polite to each other while sharing bananas. But then monkeys have bananas all over the place, while Soviet people see them maybe once a year."
"But how do I know what's true and what's not? The more I search, the more confused I become."
During this time, her family struggles with money and Iveta struggles with feeling she is an outcast. She compares herself to being a white crow dreaming of becoming a standard black crow (hence the cover art). This becomes the theme for the first part of the book, along with Latvia fighting for its independence. Then the book transitions to religion when Iveta finds the Church of Christ. However, this church turns out to be more of a controlling cult that Iveta finds herself trapped in. Finally, towards the end of this book, Iveta tries to find a serious relationship but all the men she encounters only want a fling.
I really enjoyed this book. I found it very interesting to read about the changes between a controlled and free Latvia. Iveta is very honest about her experiences and she is very easy to relate to. For me, this book was a very entertaining read with a satisfying ending which is why I gave it five stars.
Here are some of my favorite lines from the book:
"If we are equal, then why are all the communists and the government people having better summer cottages than we the common people, and none of them are sharing the apartment with another family? I think they are not setting the best example of equality for us."
"I think monkeys are more polite to each other while sharing bananas. But then monkeys have bananas all over the place, while Soviet people see them maybe once a year."
"But how do I know what's true and what's not? The more I search, the more confused I become."
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