What’s not to heart?

Absurdistan

I read Gary Shteyngart’s The Russian Debutante’s Handbook at the recommendation of a trusted book advisor. While I liked it, I wasn’t as crazy about it as the recommender. It was readily apparent that Shteyngart had talent to burn though, so I was eager to read his second novel, Absurdistan. I was not prepared to be thoroughly dazzled (with some qualifications), however.

Shteyngart’s novel is, as the title suggests, an absurdist view of the Former Soviet Union. His anti-hero, Misha Vainberg, is Russian but years for the west. Misha is the son of a Russian oligarch crime boss and whose mother died when he was young. In an attempt to make Making his papa proud, Misha comes to the US to be circumcised in Brooklyn at 18 (such a mitzvah!) and to attend Accidental College. Did I mention that Misha is also morbidly obese. Between the descriptions of Misha’s disgusting eating habits, the not too funny references to “Accidental” College, and really bad rap like:

My Name is Vainberg

I like ho’s

Sniff ‘em out

Wid my Hebrew nose

I was considering abandoning the book about 30 pages in. I’m glad that I stuck with it. I have a friend who bailed on the book and can not be talked into continuing. Govern yourself accordingly.

After falling in love with a Puerto Rican stripper, Misha travels back to Russia for a visit. Misha’s father is killed, and his visa back to the US is denied when it comes to light that his father was responsible for the death of an Oklahoma businessman. Then he loses his girlfriend. Thus is Misha’s world turned upside down and the absurdity begins. Believe me, right now, somewhere, there is a lonely grad student working on a master’s thesis comparing Misha to Yossarian.

Kicking off the absuridity, a villian in the book is a (very) thiny disguised version of Shteyngart himself, Jerry Shteynfarb. Shteynfarb is a former classmate of Misha’s from Accidental, who later steals Misha’s girlfriend. Here’s Misha’s description of Shteynfarb:

Let me give you an idea of this Jerry Shteynfarb…a perfectly Americanized Russian emigre (he came to the States as a seven year old) who managed to use his dubious Russian credentials…After graduation, he made good on his threat to write a novel…the Russian Arriviste’s Hand Job or something…Americans naturally lapped it up.

But back to that adult circumcision. Needless to say, it doesn’t go well at the hands of drunken Hasids. Misha had not been circumcised as a child, his mother fearing the attention it might draw to their religion in Soviet Russia (Think Borat). Already ambivalent about his religion, Misha is now openly atagonistic to those who are outwardly Jewish. Of course, Misha is constantly teh subject of antagonism because he himself is outwardly Jewish.

The crises of Misha’s identity are interesting enough, but the book hits its stride when Misha travels to Absurdsvanï (Absurdistan). Misha decides to travel to Absurdistan, because he hears that he can obtain a Belgian passport on the black market there. Surely the US will allow entry to a simple Belgian businessman, right?

Once in Absurdistan, things get…absurd. A civil war is about to erupt between two factions of the Eastern Orthodox church whose main point of contention is the direction that the footrest thing-y on the Eastern Orthodox cross slants. In the meantime, a third, secular, branch has begun bombing the capital, which they control, in an effort to get on CNN. All of the machinations are an attempt to keep Halliburton, and subsidiary KBR, working on their pipeline. The representations of Halliburton (pronounced Golly Burton! by the locals) is worth the price of admission alone. Misha is pulled into various intriques as any and all are familiar with his father, the oligarch.

Without giving too much away, Misha soon finds himself living among the Mountain Jews of Davidovo, a village near the border with Absurdistan. Here Misha comes to grips with his religion, as illustrated by a nifty piece of simple typography that says volumes. From Davidovo, Misha plots his triumphant return to NYC. I won’t throw out any spoilers that’ll ruin the ending. Let’s just say that this book is also in the Russian tradition.

I’m a big fan of this book, even though it took me five months to get around to posting about it. It is a solid piece of absurd satire. I think that comparisons to Catch-22 are not far off the mark. I’d recommend it if that sort of thing appeals to you. If you do decide to pick it up and you find yourself wanting to throw it out the window early on, do stick with it.

Speaking of Russians, Shteyngart was part of NPR’s You Must Read This reading series this past summer. His favorite book is Fathers and Sons by Ivan Turgenev. Now you know. This is the second in what will hopefully soon be a series of posts on three books by modern (post 1800′s) Russians that I’ve recently read.

The Dream Life of Sukhanov

I first read about The Dream Life of Sukhanov and had it stick, unlikely enough, in an alumni magazine. The magazine ran an interesting “alumni makes good” piece spotlighting Olga Grushin. Grushin is one of those people who has had such a remarkable life that it is difficult to imagine that they are younger than you. So I ran out and got her book.

Grushin was born in Russia, but did most of her schooling in Prague. On returning to Moscow she studied art history at the Pushkin Museum. She went on to win a scholarship to Emory University in 1989, becoming the first Russian citizen to attend and graduate from an American University. She served as an interpreter for Jimmy Carter and the Carter Center, was a research analyst at a law firm, was a translator for the World Bank, worked at a jazz bar, and now is an editor for a Harvard library. Somewhere in there she married, had a son, and wrote a book. Slacker.

A child of Glasnost, it is little wonder that the subject of Grushin’s novel is the personal price of change in the Soviet Union. Anatoly Sukhanov, her protagonist, is the editor of an official Soviet art journal, Art of the World. With the position has come a life of comfort and privilege.  Soon after the book begins, Sukhanov begins dropping out of his present situation and into reveries, sometimes in mid-conversation.  He loses himself in flashbacks and daydreams of his past life. Over the course of the book, we learn the true price of the comfortable life that he now enjoys.

As a young man, Sukhanov had been a promising young artist, chafing at the restrictions of the Soviet state.  Ultimately, Sukhanov sacrafices his ideals, little by little, to create a better life for his young family.   IN his current position, Sukhanov is responsible for maintaining the official party line on foreign artists.  Usually this means writing an editorial about the capitalist madness that shows itself so plainly in the works of Dali, etc, for example.  He is also required to denounce Chagall, a Russian, who was a mentor to one of his professors.

However, the Soviet Union is changing now that Sukhanov is in middle age, a man comfortable in his rut.  Several opportunities arise for Sukhanov to reclaim his former ideals and life.  How Sukhanov adapts to these changes and the opportunities afforded to him are the focus of the latter half of the book.  I won’t give away any spoilers – let’s just say that this book is firmly in the mold of Russian literature.

I recommend this book if you like the Russians.  Grushin is great at setting a mood and getting to the heart of her characters.  My only complaint was that Grushin would suddenly change from a third person narrative to first person, sometimes mid-scene.  She would say, for example, “Anatoly returned from school to find…”  Then he would begin the next paragraph, “I hardly wondered about it at first…”.    The “I” being Anatoly.  Weird.  Maybe there was a clue there that I missed.  Maybe Anatoly is trying to hide that he is the true author of the book, and I missed it.  I don’t know.  It hardly matters.  I was almost halfway through before I noticed.  Once I did, it was a little distracting trying to figure out what was going on.  Outstanding novel at any rate.

If all goes well this week, this will be the first of three novels by “modern Russians” that I’ve read recently, with “recently” being interpreted fairly broadly. Now that I think about it, “Modern” will be stretched a little bit, as will “Russian”.  It’ll make sense.

BGB Recommends

Every once in a while, we put our books down and enjoy other cultural pursuits. I have two TiVo alerts (BGB Advisory Level: Red – Severe) to issue this weekend that will go well with your wine. The first is the premiere of Class of 3000 this evening on the Cartoon Network. The show features Andree 3000 of Outkast and should be worth your while.

On Saturday night, look for Sufjan Stevens and the band Calexico on Austin City Limits. Pair it with National Drunk Writing Night 2006 and you’ve got yourself a party my friend.
For Atlanta locals, there’s outdoor adventure to be had at the Cabbagetown Chomp and Stomp – bluegrass, beer, and chili. Solid.

Just in time for the weekend

News you can use: The NYT is reporting that a new study soon to appear in the academic journal Nature finds that a component if red wine, resveratrol, offsets the effects of a high-calorie, high-fat diet – in mice (not including the effect of gaining wait, however). The small print notes that extrapolating the dose given to mice would mean that a 150 pound person would have to drink about 750 bottles of wine to achieve the same results – every day. BGB’s resident oenologist, Shaft, has approximated these levels, but reports poor outcomes and severe side effects.

Conveniently, two new wine bo0ks were reviewed this week, before the articles announcement. Slate reviews “the most useful wine book ever,” the Oxford Companion to Wine. The Guardian reviews Jay McInerney’s wine book, The Hedonist in the Cellar, as this week’s digested read – the book is condensed by the reviewer in the style of the book’s author. Here’s an excerpt from the digested read:

Did I mention that Julian Barnes is one of my very best friends? I remember him once asking me to taste a wine. “It’s from the Graves region of Bordeaux,” I said confidently, “but it can’t be La Mission” – La Mission-Haut-Brion being among my favourite wines. “Well, it is,” he laughed. “Aren’t I clever to have found a vintage as smug and superior as the pair of us?”

The rest is just as hilarious. When I saw Jay McInerney read from his book The Good Life earlier this year, he talked briefly about wine, his wine articles in House and Garden (link goes to a story about selected wines from the Four Seasons wine list – $80-$650), and this upcoming book. He sounded just like that. At the time, I was unsure of the footing of my years-long relationship with Jay McInerney. I think this reverses my earlier decision. We’re through.

William Styron dies at 81

We lost a good one yesterday. I am offended by the repeated emphasis this article gives to the relatively small contribution to letters offered by Styron over the last 15 years. Had he been the president of a multi-national corporation he would not have been questioned for taking time off in his 70′s. Writers, however, are supposed to produce magic no matter what their stage of life. Styron was a champion of liberal causes up to his death. He will be missed for that as well as for his luscious prose.

More “What is the What”

Dave Eggers and Valentino Achak Deng were on NPR’s All Things Considered yesterday talking about Eggers new Fiction/Not Fiction account of the Lost Boys of Sudan. The NPR site has an excerpt from the book, streaming audio of the interview, as well as bonus material.

Eggers backed up the interview with an authentic hip-hop experience (via Bookslut).

Add to your to-do list

Don’t forget to write a novel this month.

Judging by the Cover

I’m a sucker for a good book cover and becoming more of one every day.  I’ve been spending way too much free time lately noodling around Covers, a blog about book covers.  It is a minimalist site.  Each post is simply the cover and credits for its creation.  In the comments section, people way more involved in book design than us weigh in with their thoughts.  Use the search box to find your favorites.  I was surprised to see that the covers (hard cover and paper back) for The World to Come have not been covered yet. I really dug that cover in yesterday’s post.

On a related note, The Guardian has a fascinating article detailing how Penguin Books became renowned for their cover designs.  I guess it’s “fascinating” if you’re into this sort of thing.  The article previews some sweet new covers though.