Review by Booklist Review
The author of A People's Tragedy (1997) takes on the massive task of giving historical perspective to Russian culture and is--for the most part--successful. He manages fairly well to balance hundreds of great names, from Pushkin to Nabokov, with those that are less known to the general public, although he gives short shrift to early twentieth-century Silver Age writers like Blok and Bely. The Futurists, with the exception of Mayakovsky, are barely mentioned. Against this history-by-personality Figes contrasts European St. Petersburg and Russian Moscow. Large sections treat the cultural influences of the peasantry, the Mongols, and the Orthodox Church. The chapter on the Soviet period is elegiac (to put it mildly), and there's a wistfulness to the chapter on Russian emigreculture in Berlin and Paris. However, other than mentioning film director Andrei Tarkovsky, Figes doesn't seem to care much about Russian culture of the past 40 years. Perhaps a second volume is forthcoming that will document the history of Russian culture into the twenty-first century. --Frank Caso
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Even if one takes nothing else away from this elegant, tightly focused survey of Russian culture, it's impossible to forget the telling little anecdotes that University of London history professor Figes (A People's Tragedy) relates about Russia's artists, writers, musicians, intellectuals and courtiers as he traces the cultural movements of the last three centuries. He shares Ilya Repin's recollection of how peasants reacted to his friend Leo Tolstoy's fumbling attempts to join them in manual labor ("Never in my life have I seen a clearer expression of irony on a simple peasant's face"), as well as the three sentences Shostakovich shyly exchanged with his idol, Stravinsky, when the latter returned to the Soviet Union after 50 years of exile (" `What do you think of Puccini?' `I can't stand him,' Stravinsky replied. `Oh, and neither can I, neither can I' "). Full of resounding moments like these, Figes's book focuses on the ideas that have preoccupied Russian artists in the modern era: Just what is "Russianness," and does the quality come from its peasants or its nobility, from Europe or from Asia? He examines canonical works of art and literature as well as the lives of their creators: Tolstoy, Tchaikovsky, Chagall, Stanislavsky, Eisenstein and many others. Figes also shows how the fine arts have been influenced by the Orthodox liturgy, peasant songs and crafts, and myriad social and economic factors from Russian noblemen's unusual attachments to their peasant nannies to the 19th-century growth of vodka production. The book's thematically organized chapters are devoted to subjects like the cultural influence of Moscow or the legacy of the Mongol invasion, and with each chapter Figes moves toward the 1917 revolution and the Soviet era, deftly integrating strands of political and social history into his narrative. This is a treat for Russophiles and a unique introduction to Russian history. (Oct.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Library Journal Review
Figes (history, Univ. of London; A People's Tragedy) describes the twists and turns of Russian history through cultural and artistic events from the founding of Rus in the 12th century through the Soviet era. He uses Tolstoy's War and Peace as a centerpiece of art imitating life. The title of Figes's book comes from the scene in which Natasha Rostov and her brother Nikolai are invited by their "uncle" to a rustic cabin to listen to him play Russian folk music on his guitar. Natasha instinctively begins a folk dance that is prompted by "unknown feelings in her heart." Tolstoy would have us believe that "Russia may be held together by unseen threads of native sensibilities," writes Figes. Nowhere is the clash between the European culture of the upper class and the Russian culture of the peasantry more evident. "The complex interactions between these two worlds had a crucial influence on the national consciousness and on all the arts of the 19th century." This interaction is a major feature of this book, which traces the formation of a culture. The writing style is distinctly nonacademic, making for a very enjoyable read. Recommended for academic and public libraries. Harry Willems, Southeast Kansas Lib. Syst., Iola (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review
An immensely learned, ambitious effort to view Russian history through the lens of its arts, music, and literature. A skilled practitioner of both narrative and intellectual history, Figes (History/Univ. of London; A People's Tragedy, 1997, etc.) takes his title from a scene in War and Peace in which the highly cultured Natasha Rostov forgetting the French-influenced mores of the court to perform, enthusiastically and precisely, a Russian peasant dance. Natasha has never performed that dance, but she somehow knows it in her bones-just as, Russian intellectuals have long insisted, there is something genetic, something inborn, about "Russianness." Figes charts the growth of this sense of difference over generations, as Russians eventually shed the Western-imitating ways of Peter the Great (whose capital, Petersburg, "differs from all other European cities by being like them all," according to Alexander Herzen) to create their own sense of identity. This Russianness borrowed from many traditions; there is no single authentic Russian culture, Figes insists, any more than there is a single American one, "no quintessential national culture, only mythic images of it." Natasha's dance, for instance, takes in Mongol, Persian, Kazakh, ethnic Russian, and other cultures, just as Petersburg was built of stone from Finland, Sweden, Poland, Germany, Italy, and the Low Countries alongside Russian limestone. Just so, Soviet culture was an amalgam of traditions, continuous with its predecessors though with a peculiar purpose: to "train the human mind to see the world in a more socialistic way through new art forms." A high level of seriousness pervades this excellent study, but Figes still has great fun with his subject, as when he recounts a testy meeting between Stravinsky and Shostakovich, both of them sitting in complete silence until Shostakovich asked, " 'What do you think of Puccini?' 'I can't stand him,' Stravinsky replied. 'Oh, and neither can I, neither can I,' said Shostakovich." A superb, enlightening work. Author tour
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
