Without the flair of Gary Shteyngart or the urgency of Anna Politkovskaya—of some interest but modestly so.
In her second memoir, St. Petersburg native Gorokhova (A Mountain of Crumbs, 2010) chronicles a decadeslong clash of cultures between Russia and America.
The author describes the misfortune of being married, against the will of a formidable Stalin-era apartment block of a mother, to a creepy American who wooed her with the thought that Leningrad, as the city was then called, referred to someone other than Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov. “This is literally Lena’s city, he said, smiling at his own clever manipulation of Russian grammar,” a manipulation involving the possessive form. Possessive: Her husband is nothing but, even if, soon after the papers were signed, he informed her that the marriage would be open. “I didn’t know marriage could be paired with an adjective gutting out the essence of the word’s meaning,” she writes, “but then I didn’t know lots of things.” The years rolled by, and she continued to learn more about her redoubtable mom, who, having “survived the famine, Stalin’s terror, and the Great Patriotic War,” could be as fierce a protector in the new world as in the old. As will happen in America, one marriage gave way to another, and a child arrived and went through all the predictable stages of adolescent rebellion, not least acquiring the tattoo of the title. Still, the same old chores awaited Gorokhova, just as the same kotlety awaited anyone sitting at her table, the “oval-shaped hamburgers” reflecting the cultural collisions that threatened to unmake her life. The tone of the book is tentative, as if Gorokhova is under threat of deportation at any moment, but never meek. The author projects a quiet sense of defiance and provides occasional sharp observations about what it means to be an immigrant in an immigrant society. Overall, however, there are no surprises: The author suffered hard luck and misunderstanding, then redemption of a kind—the usual narrative arc, that is, with a pleasing payoff.
Without the flair of Gary Shteyngart or the urgency of Anna Politkovskaya—of some interest but modestly so.Pub Date: Jan. 6, 2015
ISBN: 978-1451689822
Page Count: 336
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Review Posted Online: Nov. 1, 2014
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Nov. 15, 2014
BOOK REVIEW
The author's youthfulness helps to assure the inevitable comparison with the Anne Frank diary although over and above the...
Elie Wiesel spent his early years in a small Transylvanian town as one of four children.
He was the only one of the family to survive what Francois Maurois, in his introduction, calls the "human holocaust" of the persecution of the Jews, which began with the restrictions, the singularization of the yellow star, the enclosure within the ghetto, and went on to the mass deportations to the ovens of Auschwitz and Buchenwald. There are unforgettable and horrifying scenes here in this spare and sombre memoir of this experience of the hanging of a child, of his first farewell with his father who leaves him an inheritance of a knife and a spoon, and of his last goodbye at Buchenwald his father's corpse is already cold let alone the long months of survival under unconscionable conditions.
Pub Date: Jan. 16, 2006
ISBN: 0374500010
Page Count: 120
Publisher: Hill & Wang
Review Posted Online: Oct. 7, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 15, 2006
A moving meditation on mortality by a gifted writer whose dual perspectives of physician and patient provide a singular...
A neurosurgeon with a passion for literature tragically finds his perfect subject after his diagnosis of terminal lung cancer.
Writing isn’t brain surgery, but it’s rare when someone adept at the latter is also so accomplished at the former. Searching for meaning and purpose in his life, Kalanithi pursued a doctorate in literature and had felt certain that he wouldn’t enter the field of medicine, in which his father and other members of his family excelled. “But I couldn’t let go of the question,” he writes, after realizing that his goals “didn’t quite fit in an English department.” “Where did biology, morality, literature and philosophy intersect?” So he decided to set aside his doctoral dissertation and belatedly prepare for medical school, which “would allow me a chance to find answers that are not in books, to find a different sort of sublime, to forge relationships with the suffering, and to keep following the question of what makes human life meaningful, even in the face of death and decay.” The author’s empathy undoubtedly made him an exceptional doctor, and the precision of his prose—as well as the moral purpose underscoring it—suggests that he could have written a good book on any subject he chose. Part of what makes this book so essential is the fact that it was written under a death sentence following the diagnosis that upended his life, just as he was preparing to end his residency and attract offers at the top of his profession. Kalanithi learned he might have 10 years to live or perhaps five. Should he return to neurosurgery (he could and did), or should he write (he also did)? Should he and his wife have a baby? They did, eight months before he died, which was less than two years after the original diagnosis. “The fact of death is unsettling,” he understates. “Yet there is no other way to live.”
A moving meditation on mortality by a gifted writer whose dual perspectives of physician and patient provide a singular clarity.Pub Date: Jan. 19, 2016
ISBN: 978-0-8129-8840-6
Page Count: 248
Publisher: Random House
Review Posted Online: Sept. 29, 2015
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 15, 2015
PERSPECTIVES
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