Spies, Rebels, Ilf & Petrov and a Slynx

Ilf & Petrov’s American Road Trip

Ilya Ilf & Evgeny Petrov

Edited by Erika Woolf 

(Cabinet • $21.95)

This new translation (the last was in 1937) of this almost-lost work is a gem. And not just because it is by two of Soviet Russia’s greatest writers and humorists. After all, it is always fascinating to hear how others see us, to see what photos they take, what impressions they bring away. Ilf and Petrov were trenchant observers of human nature, and this travelogue of their 1935 trip across America is simply a piece of classic journalism. 

Of course, this is not the pair’s funniest work. Hardly surprising, given that the system they lampooned with The Twelve Chairs and The Golden Calf (sadly, only the former is currently in print in English) was, by the time the pair turned up in America, engulfed in a paroxysm of self-mutilation. But the account of their journey is funny and at times biting, even taking into account Ilf and Petrov’s need to toe the Party line (they were working for Pravda, after all). 

Add in the candid and revealing photos of everyday Americans, and you have a true collector’s item. In the end, reading this book is like leafing through an old family album full of vaguely familiar faces and places, with running commentary by a sarcastic, immigrant uncle.

Historical Dictionary of Cold War Intelligence

Nigel West (Scarecrow • $97.75)

The pricetag will put this book outside many readers’ comfort zone, but for anyone with a serious interest in post-War spycraft, this reference book is a must. It is a treasure trove of alphabet soup agencies, code names and long-forgotten spy stories compiled by one of the top western experts on spycraft. 

Every defector and traitor is here, and the hundreds of concisely edited stories of infamy or heroism makes for engrossing reading. For example, who knew that Kitty Hawk was the codename for a KGB officer and almost-defector who was the son-in-law of a Politburo member? No surprise, certainly, to learn that the operative, Igor Kochnov, died young.

Red Mutiny

Neal Bascomb 

(Houghton Mifflin • $26)

Maggot-infested meat spurred the mutiny of the Battleship Potemkin in June 1905. Such mundane and graphic facts make for a good story, certainly. But in this case, it belies the fact that the bad meat was just a pretext, that events were set in motion long before, and that those events would have great significance not just for Russia, but for the world.

Bascomb knows how to tell a story: through the eyes of well-defined characters. In this case, the characters are the sailors, who get their side of the story recounted for the first time, free of ideological taint. And at the center of it all is the charismatic figure of Afanasy Matyushchenko. 

For eleven days, Matyushchenko and the other mutinous sailors sailed the Black Sea, fighting off the rest of the Black Sea Fleet and finally surrendering to local authorities in Romania. Some escaped, many were executed; one later became Soviet ambassador to Britain. 

This is a well-crafted story of adventure, hapless revolutionaries and the simple desire for justice in the face of oppression. It has all the makings of a great movie...

The Slynx

Tatyana Tolstaya 

(NYRB • $14.95)

“What’s a fable?” asks the main character of Tatyana Tolstaya’s first novel – published in 2002 and now out in paperback.

“A fable is a directive rendered in a simplified form for popular consumption,” comes the reply.

On the surface, The Slynx is a depressing, dystopian fable of humanity after a second Fall. But a fable is rarely as simple as it seems on the surface. And, in this case, you have to dig for the directive.

Tolstaya conjures up a rich, fantastic and mutely believable post-apocalyptic Russian world that is rich in allegory and wordplay. At the center of the tale is the simple, unambitious scribe, Benedikt. When confronted by the Head Santurion (in charge of internal security), who happens to be his prospective father-in-law, he cries:

“I don’t know anything, I’ve never seen anything. Never heard anything. I don’t understand anything, don’t want anything, haven’t dreamt anything.”

It is the common cry of the innocent in the face of tyranny. And it is as false as it is irrelevant.

Benedikt of course wants something. First it is the beautiful Olenka. And then, after he discovers books, it is the calm, comfortable life of fantasy which books allow: escape from his horror- and fear-stricken world. 

But, for everything, there is a price. And perhaps that is the directive, the moral of this dark and fascinating fable, which Tolstaya – previously a short story writer – reportedly took a decade to write. Even in a post-nuclear world, in which mice are the basic foodstuff and common currency, it turns out that things can get worse still.

Moscow, St. Petersburg & 

The Golden Ring

Masha Nordbye (Odyssey • $26.95)

Touring Odessa, Kyiv, LViv, Crimea

Baltija Dryk • $26.95 (russia-on-line.com)

St. Petersburg

National Geographic • $22.95

Colorful, compact city guides are useful companions if you are visiting just one metropolis. And National Geographic’s first Russia title is a beautiful, well-written addition to this niche. Rare in this genre, the book has a single author (Jeremy Howard) and photographer (Yuri Belinsky). Both cover the territory with affection. The travel information is thorough and the attention to detail (i.e. museum hours right alongside the relevant text, instead of hidden away) is noteworthy. And, of course, since this is National Geographic, the maps are superb.

Baltija Dryk, meanwhile, has inaugurated a line of similarly presented travel guides for Ukraine (with Transcarpathia forthcoming). If not as polished and pretty as the National Geographic volume, they are still packed with fine photography, a wealth of travel info and good maps. And the translations to English retain a delightful taste of the original language. 

The newest update to Masha Nordbye’s beautiful guide to the two capitals and the Golden Ring is also welcome. Nordbye has written for Russian Life, so are not unbiased. Still, it bears stating that this is one of the finest, most personal guides to Russia currently available. There is stunning  photography, excellent cartography and well-chosen literary extracts. If the design is less flashy than National Geographic or Dorling Kindersley, that’s OK. This, after all, is a travel guide for readers.