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Violeta Rosales violetisha — In this memoir, the life of a young woman growing up in cold war Leningrad is explored with depth and feeling as she struggles to come of age in the very forbidding and intense landscape of the former Soviet Union. Life for Elena and her family hasn’t always been easy. Through her parents’ hard work, Lena and her sister aren’t living at the bottom rungs of the communist society, but there isn’t a lot of extra in their lives either. Elena’s mother, once a surgeon during the war, is now teaching anatomy at the university. Elena has been raised to believe in the superiority of Russia and communism and to regard the rest of the world with suspicion and cynicism. Much to her mother’s dismay, these views strangely begin to melt away as she matures into a young woman. When Elena’s sister decides to pursue a career in acting instead of medicine or engineering, the idea that there multiple paths to happiness begins to occur to her, despite the messages she gets from society. As Elena begins to rise through the professional world and falls in line to do exactly what’s expected of her, a chance meeting with an American drastically alters the future that has been so carefully arranged by her and her mother. When the once iron grip of the Soviet Union begins to loosen its hold on Elena, her life will never be the same and the future that‘s laid out before her will be unlike anything she could have ever imagined. This book has been compared to the Russian version of Angela’s Ashes, and has also been touted as being amusing and wry, which is not exactly my experience with it. While I did grow to appreciate this coming of age story, the first hundred pages were a little rocky for me. When the storyline began to shift, I must say I was a little more pleased that the book was going in a different direction. I’m not sure if my reactions were due to the very maudlin aspects of life in Russia or due to the fact that everything in this tale seemed so dark and reeked of cynicism, but for the most part, I found this to be a very heavy read. It’s not that this was a bad book, but it was, for the most part, rather darkly portrayed. Elena is a girl like most. She hungers for love and opportunity and doesn’t quite understand how to discover the secrets behind these things and how to figure out the mysteries of life. She’s very secretive with her mother and doesn’t seem to have a very healthy relationship with her at all. It was easy to see why, though, because her mother was extremely militant about controlling her daughters and forcing them to do the things that she found acceptable. I got the feeling that Elena was proud of her mother, but that doesn’t translate into intimacy, which is something I don’t think Elena had with anyone in the story. A lot of her reactions to the world around her were very familiar to me because a lot of them dealt with her feelings of disconnection from that world; a world that she would one day be expected to take part in and flourish in. It was obvious that Elena suffered from a great amount of naivety and to a certain degree had been very sheltered throughout her upbringing, and I kept asking myself if this was a byproduct of the very oppressive place in which she lived or her mother’s overprotectiveness. In some ways I felt that Elena never really matured the way that those in the West do; she never had those coming of age moments that are so crucial to forming adult perceptions. When she did finally have these moments, she had already crossed the threshold into adulthood. It bothered me a little to hear all the comments about how the West was filled with rotten capitalist pigs, and how our society was belittled as an untrustworthy foreign melange full of greed and debauchery. I began to realize that although Elena and her parents said these things often, these ideas stemmed from the propaganda that the Soviet Union generated over many years and thorough various means. This doesn’t mean that it wasn’t annoying, only that I understood how a group of people could be so indoctrinated into thinking that the progressive west was just too radical and progressive. To tell you the truth, the Russia of this time sounded horrible, and stories of waiting in line for hours to procure a few rolls of toilet paper seemed as alien to me as capitalism probably seemed to Elena and her family. The Russia of this time period was no joke, and Gorokhova really succeeds in identifying the menacing aspects that the government used to keep its citizens under control. These sections, to me, were the darkest of the book, and lent Elena’s reminiscences a casual cruelty and sense of abiding provocation. There was a very deep sense of pragmatism that permeated the minds of the characters in this story. Despite the very foreign aspects of life in cold war Russia, it was clear to see that the people living in this society were not only downtrodden and overburdened, but deeply instilled with a degree of pride and a false illusion of superiority. As Elena realizes that life in Russia is not what she wants and takes steps to release the country’s hold over her, she begins to see that the life she and her family have been living is one of half realized dreams and fruitless sacrifice. Though the situation that enables her to escape is not a perfect solution, it’s one I think many will be able to relate to, and one that Elena herself feels a begrudging appreciation for, despite it’s challenges and inconveniences. When all is said and done, Elena is able to make peace, not only with herself, but more importantly, with her mother and her homeland. Though this wasn’t my favorite memoir, it did provide a lot of chewy food for thought and a very deep exposure to a way of life that’s extremely alien to my own. It was filled with the cultural details that readers of this genre will appreciate, but there’s no denying that the story is rather bleak. I did end up admiring Elena Gorokhova for her stoicism and her ability to persevere, and I think that this is a book that would open a lot of readers’ eyes to the very different lives that are lived outside the United States.

Haider Ali alihaydif347 — Ceux qui ont lu Le guide galactique savent que parler de ce type de roman est très difficile. Douglas Adams ose tout, jusqu’à l’absurde. Ca part dans tous les sens, tous les événements étant tous plus bizarres les uns que les autres. Avec Un cheval dans la salle de bain, première rencontre avec le détective holistique* Dirk Gently, on n’est pas dépaysé. Des éléments hallucinants se succèdent dans une sorte de frénésie. Un moine électrique qui croit à notre place, une salière, un canapé, le chat de Schrödinger, le poète Coleridge et bien sûr un cheval dans une salle de bain sont des éléments de ce roman déjanté. En réalité, le détective Dirk Gently apparaît au bout d’une centaine de pages. Le héros très adamsien du roman est Richard MacDuff, informaticien qui voit le fantôme de son patron qui vient d’être assassiné. Il fait appel à un ancien camarade d’université, Svlad Cjelli, qui se fait désormais appeler Dirk Gently. Quel rapport y a t-il entre un canapé coincé dans les escaliers et la mort de Gordon Way ? Voilà une question à laquelle seul Douglas Adams pouvait répondre. Et la fin du roman remet en place tous les éléments disparates dans un grand final imprévisible voire délirant mais qui résout tout. La fin m’a d’ailleurs fait terriblement pensé à une ambiance à la Doctor Who, dont ça pourrait presque être un épisode (ce qui n’est guère surprenant puisque Adams a travaillé sur l’ancienne série). On passe un excellent moment avec ce roman pour peu que l’on apprécie l’humour absurde à la Monty Pythons. Les fans du voyageur galactique ne devraient d'ailleurs pas être déçus * holistique : qui considère l’objet comme constituant d'un tout

Arthur Miranda arthurmira568b — Written after the movie, due to Kubrick changing the story to fit the available movie-making technology.