Review by New York Times Review
How delightful to discover that Robert K. Massie, 82 years old, hasn't lost his mojo. At a heft befitting its subject, his long-awaited "Catherine the Great: Portrait of a Woman" is a consistently nimble and buoyant performance, defying what might in a lesser writer's hands prove a deadly undertow of exhaustively researched historical facts. Of course, Massie, who has spent almost half a century studying czarist Russia, has always been a biographer with the instincts of a novelist. He understands plot - fate - as a function of character, and the narrative perspective he establishes and maintains, a vision tightly aligned with that of his subject, convinces a reader he's not so much looking at Catherine the Great as he is out of her eyes. It's an elegantly simple and effective strategy, one familiar to Massie's admirers, who will find his latest work as juicy and suspenseful as the book that thrust him into celebrity when it was published in 1967, smack in the middle of the cold war. The genius of "Nicholas and Alexandra" was that it recreated the tragedy of the last Romanov rulers from the inside out, intimately enough to challenge even a Bolshevik to insist on the decadence and inhumanity of monarchs whose first of many misfortunes was an accident of timing, as czarism was defunct if not yet dead when Nicholas inherited the crown. By contrast, Catherine the Great would be able to credit the "many lucky circumstances" that facilitated her seizing control of a system of imperial absolutism at the height of its influence, if bearing the blueprint of its own destruction. She began her life on April 21, 1729, as Sophia Augusta Fredericka, a minor German princess whose 16-year-old mother, Johanna, immediately handed her over to a wet nurse. Johanna's maternal feeling - all of it - was held in reserve for the yet-to-be conceived son she hoped would secure her claim to his father's princedom. But when the sickly son, born 18 months after Sophia, died at 12, Johanna had no choice but to redirect her energies onto her one remaining ticket to the exalted social position she coveted. Never underestimate the power of a cold, calculating and unaffectionate mother to inspire ambition in her child. Determined not just to escape but to transcend her unhappy beginnings, Sophia became Johanna's collaborator. Having discovered that people preferred "to talk about themselves rather than anything else," she learned to conceal pride with humility and became a very good listener, both skills that would serve her well as Empress and Autocrat of All the Russias. She wanted power and she wanted what she "couldn't live for a day without" - love - and she'd get them both, in spades, but not from the husband who awaited her. He looked good on paper, "the only surviving male descendant of Peter the Great," enough that Russia's reigning and childless empress Elizabeth chose her nephew Peter as her successor and had him plucked from his native Holstein and delivered to St. Petersburg. But when she saw the "odd little figure" Peter presented at 14, weak in both body and mind, she began hunting for a bride to facilitate her leapfrogging over his incompetence by presenting her a grandson as heir. Each year may have produced "a new crop of eligible adolescent European princesses," but only one had Johanna for a mother. With the persistence of a terrier, Johanna unearthed and exploited any and all connections to the top, and once she'd contrived a means of introducing her 14-year-old daughter, the empress noted Sophia's "freshness, intelligence and discreet, submissive manner." Indeed, Sophia had many virtues, both cultured and innate, to recommend her as an ideal candidate for marriage to the unprepossessing Peter, but it was her immediate and canny pursuit of everything Russian - church, language and customs - that predicted the transformation of a girl who might otherwise have been a historical footnote into "the pre-eminent royal personage in the world." A zealous student who begged her tutor for more hours to fill with lessons, Sophia slipped out of bed to drill herself on Russian vocabulary while pacing the cold stone floors. Rather than kill her, however, the pneumonia she developed secured her place in the empress's affections and kindled the first of her many public relations triumphs. "In the space of a few weeks," reports that Sophia's love for Russia was so great that she'd risked her life to learn her adoptive nation's language more quickly seduced a public eternally suspicious of German influences and machinations. UPON her marriage, Catherine - the name the empress gave Sophia on the occasion of her mandatory conversion to Orthodoxy - found herself shackled to a 17-year-old whom one European king would remember as "a mere poltroon ... comic in all things ... not stupid, but mad." He was precocious in alcoholism if nothing else, and his drinking was encouraged by servants whom he dressed in military uniforms for "indoor parades" when he wasn't playing with the toy soldiers that filled his room and which he took to bed with him. Had they been Russian uniforms or Russian toy soldiers - had Peter the sense and ambition of his wife, who worked assiduously to obliterate every damning trace of her German origins - his future might not have been quite so bleak. But his six-month reign, which began in 1761, was characterized by his attempting to remake the Orthodox Church into Protestantism even as he set out to "reorganize the Russian Army on the Prussian model." To be an ineffectual czar is unfortunate, to attack both of Russia's two most sacred institutions and announce loyalty to an enemy nation by wearing a Prussian uniform to state functions was tantamount to inviting the coup d'état that removed him from the throne in 1762. Catherine, too, made calculated and convincing appearances in uniform, but that of a Russian soldier. Dressed as a colonel of an elite Russian regiment and mounted on a white stallion, Catherine, an expert horsewoman, led 14,000 infantry soldiers to arrest and unseat her feckless husband, who, Nero-like, ignored reports of conspiracy to go on playing his violin. While most of Europe blamed Catherine for her husband's murder in prison, her hands remained technically unstained. "The circumstances and cause of death, and the intentions and degree of responsibility of those involved," Massie writes, "can never be known." Eight years after seizing the throne, the empress appeared in uniform "at every military parade in the capital" to honor her army's campaign in Turkey. If, as Massie surmises, Catherine's need for admiration and power issued from the "permanent wound" of her mother's rejection, it would be her inspired manipulation of symbols for the benefit of her largely illiterate public that secured her position as Matushka - the mother of all Russia. When Elizabeth lay in state, Catherine, now empress, had remained kneeling beside the bier, veiled and wearing a plain black dress and no jewels, demonstrating respect and devotion even as her husband had purposefully interrupted the "funeral of the woman who had made him an emperor" with acts of "grotesque buffoonery." When Russia was threatened by a smallpox epidemic, Catherine set the example of being inoculated first to convince her people of the safety of the new, effective measure "shunned in continental Europe as being too dangerous." To demonstrate her attachment and availability to her subjects the empress walked "in the park in a plain dress ... mingling with the public." Like Peter the Great, whose towering bronze monument she commissioned to declare herself the great czar's "true political heir," Catherine dreamed of improving the lot of Russians, especially its millions of serfs, by looking westward, to the example of Europe, when she rewrote Russia's legal code. She was an admirer of Montesquieu and Beccaria, and her intellectual energy and curiosity prompted high-profile friendships and lofty correspondence with Enlightenment giants like Voltaire and Diderot, the second of whom she depended on as a scout to aide her accelerated acquisition of the European masterworks destined for her Hermitage collection. Whatever hopes Catherine had of ending serfdom and relaxing czarism's despotic hold over her people were permanently quashed by a pretender to her throne, Emelyan Pugachev, who claimed to be her murdered husband and raised an army of Cossacks against the nobility, a "most serious challenge" to her authority characterized by not only violence but also atrocities, including the slaughter of children and the raping of women. After "obliterating all traces of the internal revolt," Catherine disappeared Pugachev, just as she had Ivan VI, deposed as an infant by Elizabeth and removed by Catherine from the notice of anyone who might remember his "dynastically impeccable" right to the crown. The Pugachev rebellion cost Catherine her idealism, quickening her monarchist sympathies when France endured its bloody revolution. Reminded forcefully that her support lay in the nobility, she pruned back her ambitions and, Massie writes, "concentrated on what she believed to be Russian interests within her power to change: the expansion of her empire and the enrichment of its culture." For as long as she ruled she remained alert to any sign of insurrection, forever anxious that France's new constitutional republic might be received as an example to follow. ONE of the unexpected pleasures of "Catherine the Great" is that the degree to which Massie invites us to identify with his subject as she grows and changes in a role she began cultivating herself to attain at the age of 14. After waiting seven years for Peter to consummate their union, the previously steadfast virgin understood she had no more time to waste providing the heir for which she had been imported and discreetly took the first of her 12 illustrious, and serial, lovers who would offer the political acumen and sexual gratification her husband could not. Having felt her outrage and grief at her son's being immediately seized by Elizabeth to raise as her own, readers may be surprised to find themselves still sympathizing with Catherine when, later perceiving him "as a rival," she treats his imported German princess wife with equal insensitivity, alienating her grandsons from their parents to secure her in their affection and grooming them for the crown she considered withholding from her son. In fact, for the reader who has followed her career as intimately as Massie allows, many times thrilled by the sang-froid of an extraordinary woman secure in her gifts and her authority, Catherine's ruthless abrogation of any threat to the power she claimed is at least as delicious as it is deplorable. Whatever it takes, we want her to remain forever where she placed herself - in history's pantheon. Mounted on a white stallion, Catherine led 14,000 soldiers to arrest and unseat her feckless husband. Kathryn Harrison is writing a biography of Joan of Arc. Her new novel, "Enchantments," will be published next March.
Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [November 20, 2011]
Review by Booklist Review
*Starred Review* The popularity of Massie's biographies of Russian czars presages a comparable reception for his presentation of Sophia of Anhalt-Zerbst, as Catherine the Great was originally named. She appeals to readers for several reasons. Those interested in the expansion and development of the Russian Empire under her reign (1762-96) can delve into her conduct of war and diplomacy, cultivation of Enlightenment notables, and attempted reforms of law and government. And those fascinated by the intimate intrigues of dynasties will find an extraordinary example in Catherine's ascent from minor German princess to absolute autocrat of Russia. Court life is Massie's strong suit, though, which he develops with a well-referenced thoroughness that begins with Catherine's own account (The Memoirs of Catherine the Great, Mark Cruse, ed., 2005) of surviving palace politics as consort to the eccentric and disliked crown prince, Paul. The memoir, which suspends in 1758, alludes to another aspect of Catherine that tantalizes royalty readers, her liaisons with courtiers, most famously, Grigory Potemkin. Massie's treatment of them proves sympathetically perceptive to Catherine's warmth and her estrangement from them, humanizing the real woman behind the imperial persona. Written dramatically and almost visually, Massie's Catherine may attain the classic status that his Peter the Great (1980) and Nicholas and Alexandra (1967) already have.--Taylor, Gilbert Copyright 2010 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
The Pulitzer-winning biographer of Nicholas and Alexandra and of Peter the Great, Massie now relates the life of a minor German princess, Sophia of Anhalt-Zerbst, who became Empress Catherine II of Russia (1729-1796). She was related through her ambitious mother to notable European royalty; her husband-to-be, the Russian grand duke Peter, was the only living grandson of Peter the Great. As Massie relates, during her disastrous marriage to Peter, Catherine bore three children by three different lovers, and she and Peter were controlled by Peter's all-powerful aunt, Empress Elizabeth, who took physical possession of Catherine's firstborn, Paul. Six months into her husband's incompetent reign as Peter III, Catherine, 33, who had always believed herself superior to her husband, dethroned him, but probably did not plan his subsequent murder, though, Massie writes, a shadow of suspicion hung over her. Confident, cultured, and witty, Catherine avoided excesses of personal power and ruled as a benevolent despot. Magnifying the towering achievements of Peter the Great, she imported European culture into Russia, from philosophy to medicine, education, architecture, and art. Effectively utilizing Catherine's own memoirs, Massie once again delivers a masterful, intimate, and tantalizing portrait of a majestic monarch. (Nov.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Library Journal Review
As with his past best-selling biographies of Russian elites, Pulitzer Prize winner Massie (Peter the Great) does a wonderful job of pulling readers into his narrative, this one taking us into 18th-century Russia and the life of a young German princess, born Sophie Friederike Auguste von Anhalt-Zerbst, destined to change the course of her adopted country's history. From the young Sophie's journey to Russia at the invitation of Empress Elizabeth to her death after 34 years on the Russian throne (1762-96), readers will be absorbed and in sympathy with Massie's Catherine. His engaging narrative informs and entertains, covering everything from Catherine's friendships, marriage to Peter III, love affairs, political and intellectual beliefs, and attempts to reform the country according to ideals of the Enlightenment (she corresponded with many Enlightenment figures), to her reactions to major world events including the American Revolution and the Reign of Terror in France. VERDICT This book is aimed at the nonspecialist, as Massie does not present new sources or new angles of research. But it's a gripping narrative for general biography or Russian tsarist history buffs, an excellent choice for public, high school, and undergraduate libraries. [See Prepub Alert, 5/9/11.]-Sonnet Ireland, Univ. of New Orleans Lib. (c) Copyright 2011. 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 School Library Journal Review
Massie's Nicholas and Alexandra consumed my 30th year, and I'm very happy to report that the Pulitzer Prize winner's new biography of Russia's longest-ruling female leader is doing the same for my 55th. While the books and their subjects inextricably inform one another, they are very different. Nicholas and Alexandra recounted the end of an empire and destruction of a family; Catherine the Great, on the other hand, got pretty much everything she wanted, whether it was the expansion of the Russian Empire's borders or the creation of the era's richest collection of art (Catherine built the Hermitage) or the friendship of such Enlightenment leaders as Voltaire and Diderot. She had three children, perhaps none by her hapless husband, and an almost continuous stream of lovers, dispatching one kindly and with gifts before taking on another. When it came to ruling, she did it Her Way: asked by her adult son Paul for more governmental responsibility, she replied, "I do not think your entrance into the Council would be desirable. You must be patient until I change my mind." Massie gracefully moves between considerations of Catherine's life and character and the political and military changes that were reshaping Europe during the last quarter of the 18th century. He is never stodgy but always dignified, carefully illuminating the facts so that readers can discover for themselves just what a badass Catherine really was. Roger Sutton has spent the last 15 years as editor-in-chief of The Horn Book. Follow him on Twitter @RogerReads. (c) Copyright 2012. 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
Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
