Taken together, the stories make a worthy addition to the archive of great Russian writers of the 19th and 20th centuries,...
From Russia, with love (and unfulfilled yearning, crushing despair and profound heartache).
Bunin, now forgotten by all but a handful of specialists, won the Nobel Prize in literature in 1933. A successful and well-respected writer in Russia, he settled in Paris after the Revolution, where he maintained himself by writing about a culture that had virtually disappeared by the time he got to France. The six stories collected here were written between 1900 and 1944. All are set in either a fiercely cosmopolitan Moscow or a tenderly bucolic Russian countryside. A few, like the eponymous “The Elagin Affair” and “Mitya’s Love,” are long enough to count as novellas; others seem, in comparison, like sketches. Bunin’s greatest strength is his ability to focus intensely on the consciousness of a single character. His stories, packed with sensory information and grounded by long, clause-heavy descriptions, work to find the mysterious moment at which objective reality becomes part of the interior world. Some stories, like “Mitya’s Love,” spend paragraph after lavish paragraph on minute sensory experiences—the thick air of the country on a languorous afternoon, the sound of a woman’s laugh, the long wait for a short letter. But many of the stories promise a bigger payoff than they can deliver. Bunin’s prose is always stronger than the stories’ plots, which often seem to end rather abruptly, often by introducing a relatively clichéd and unsatisfying convention more indebted to melodrama than to the 19th-century realists he otherwise resembles.
Taken together, the stories make a worthy addition to the archive of great Russian writers of the 19th and 20th centuries, even if individually, their prose spills over the narrow confines of Bunin’s plots.Pub Date: Oct. 21, 2005
ISBN: 1-56663-641-8
Page Count: 272
Publisher: Ivan Dee/Rowman & Littlefield
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 15, 2005
BOOK REVIEW
Miller makes Homer pertinent to women facing 21st-century monsters.
A retelling of ancient Greek lore gives exhilarating voice to a witch.
“Monsters are a boon for gods. Imagine all the prayers.” So says Circe, a sly, petulant, and finally commanding voice that narrates the entirety of Miller’s dazzling second novel. The writer returns to Homer, the wellspring that led her to an Orange Prize for The Song of Achilles (2012). This time, she dips into The Odyssey for the legend of Circe, a nymph who turns Odysseus’ crew of men into pigs. The novel, with its distinctive feminist tang, starts with the sentence: “When I was born, the name for what I was did not exist.” Readers will relish following the puzzle of this unpromising daughter of the sun god Helios and his wife, Perse, who had negligible use for their child. It takes banishment to the island Aeaea for Circe to sense her calling as a sorceress: “I will not be like a bird bred in a cage, I thought, too dull to fly even when the door stands open. I stepped into those woods and my life began.” This lonely, scorned figure learns herbs and potions, surrounds herself with lions, and, in a heart-stopping chapter, outwits the monster Scylla to propel Daedalus and his boat to safety. She makes lovers of Hermes and then two mortal men. She midwifes the birth of the Minotaur on Crete and performs her own C-section. And as she grows in power, she muses that “not even Odysseus could talk his way past [her] witchcraft. He had talked his way past the witch instead.” Circe’s fascination with mortals becomes the book’s marrow and delivers its thrilling ending. All the while, the supernatural sits intriguingly alongside “the tonic of ordinary things.” A few passages coil toward melodrama, and one inelegant line after a rape seems jarringly modern, but the spell holds fast. Expect Miller’s readership to mushroom like one of Circe’s spells.
Miller makes Homer pertinent to women facing 21st-century monsters.Pub Date: April 10, 2018
ISBN: 978-0-316-55634-7
Page Count: 400
Publisher: Little, Brown
Review Posted Online: Jan. 22, 2018
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 2018
PROFILES
A modern day fable, with modern implications in a deceiving simplicity, by the author of Dickens. Dali and Others (Reynal & Hitchcock, p. 138), whose critical brilliance is well adapted to this type of satire. This tells of the revolt on a farm, against humans, when the pigs take over the intellectual superiority, training the horses, cows, sheep, etc., into acknowledging their greatness. The first hints come with the reading out of a pig who instigated the building of a windmill, so that the electric power would be theirs, the idea taken over by Napoleon who becomes topman with no maybes about it. Napoleon trains the young puppies to be his guards, dickers with humans, gradually instigates a reign of terror, and breaks the final commandment against any animal walking on two legs. The old faithful followers find themselves no better off for food and work than they were when man ruled them, learn their final disgrace when they see Napoleon and Squealer carousing with their enemies... A basic statement of the evils of dictatorship in that it not only corrupts the leaders, but deadens the intelligence and awareness of those led so that tyranny is inevitable. Mr. Orwell's animals exist in their own right, with a narrative as individual as it is apt in political parody.
Pub Date: Aug. 26, 1946
ISBN: 0452277507
Page Count: 114
Publisher: Harcourt, Brace
Review Posted Online: Nov. 2, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 1, 1946
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