Hello
Gentle Reader
Lyudmila
Petrushevskaya has always been a controversial writer, in her native land of
Russia. Petrushevskaya, being denounced or criticized for being controversial,
comes across as odd. She was never blatantly dissident or political active or
opposing. Her work itself has been described as fairytale in nature, or
preoccupied with domestic concerns. Nowhere, is there a trace of ulterior
political motives. She never incited a riot, encouraged public discourse,
political protests, or acts which would be revolutionary, though deemed
anti-revolutionary, nor had Petrushevskaya ever conspire usurp the reigning
social and political contexts and perspectives of the time. Her controversial
status surrounds her work—which is depraved and disregards ideological notions
and concerns—because her work was honest, to a fault. Lyudmila Petrushevskaya
is a chronicler of the everyday epic. She chronicles the day to day drudgery, aimlessness,
hopelessness, domestic insanity, with brute honesty, and an unflinching eye for
the details. In the Soviet Union, this blatant depiction of the reality of the
time, was deemed insufficient, counter-revolutionary, and offensive not only to
the people (in which it represented and discussed), but also to the great
Soviet Spirit and Communist ideals of the time. For that, Lyudmila
Petrushevskaya was deemed unpublishable, because she “blackened,” reality. Where
in reality, she described what she saw, what she heard, what she was told, and what
she experienced; but this was unacceptable, describing what is, destroys the
illusion of the socialist utopia of the time. You cannot deny the reality which
oppresses, beats, and rules; but you cannot depict this reality in a codified
format, or else the people would somehow loose the illusion of the progressive
great work which was underway. How out of touch the authorities and government
must have been then, because certainly the people we’re well aware the
propagated utopia, depicted in the state propaganda did not exist. Yet, it
still was not a subject which needed to be published and distributed; such
contrary realities could upset the people, shift the perspective and most
certainly cause political discord, which would spell the end for the Soviet
Union. Times have changed. The socio-political climate has changed. The Soviet Union
collapsed. It has not been an easy or pretty transition for many in Russia or
the former Eastern Bloc; but the situations are improving, to success, like
Estonia, who has one of the most fastest growing economics in the European
Union, stable jobs, and low debt; not bad for a country which always found
itself at the mercy of others. Yet, just because some have found success, does
not mean all have. As they say though, all changes require the right conditions
in order to truly take hold; much like plants in a green house.
Russia,
currently resides in a limbo period, on the cusp of political change which
promises and threatens to swing either way. Soviet nostalgia, according to
recent reports, is on the rise. All those claims about, the power, the
worthiness, the meaning, and the stability are all being touted as the great
gifts the Soviet era had delivered, and all it costed was democratic and fundamental
freedoms. This dangerous perspective, has once again taken aim at Lyudmila
Petrushevskaya. The Public Council of the Russian Orthodox Church of Krasnoyarsk
recently took aim at Petrushevskaya. The Public Council has recently accused Petrushevskaya
of promoting recreational drug use among minors. The Council came to this
conclusion after reading her story “The Trip,” about a story where a young man
tries psychedelic drugs. This story was recently included in anthology directed
towards young adults. Needless to say, the Public Council of the Russian Orthodox Church
of Krasnoyarsk, have found the story, unacceptable, and have since accused Lyudmila
Petrushevskaya writing immoral and deranged fantasies, which will warp and
create demented youth. Petrushevskaya has taken aim at the criticism, and found
it offense and ill informed. She stated, the accusation—obviously—is in capable
of making a clear distinction between ‘touching upon,’ and ‘promoting.’ By the
same logic, she theorizes then, she has openly advocated and promoted: illegal
abortions, prostitution (including underage), pedophilia, homosexuality and
homosexual love, parental abuse and domestic violence, as well as incestuous relationships.
All of these subjects, and more, have been topics in her work. Not because she
is actively endorses or publicly supports, but rather, because they are and
were the realities.
In
similar fashion, Alice Munro in the beginning of her career suffered ludicrous criticism,
because she had openly discussed sex and depicted sex in her work. Parents of
the small Ontario community, wanted her books removed from the school library
(and curriculum) because of the frank discussion, of what some thought was an
indecent subject. The parents reasoned
by doing this they would protect their children. When Alice Munro was asked
about the petition and the reasoning behind it, she was disappointed and
perhaps even slightly amused, though she disagreed. She gently informed the
interviewer, that by removing the books because of their honest discussion of
sex, the parents were not saving their children from it; they were lying to
them about the nature of sex, and there was no protecting them from their
biology, and the eventual development of sexual yearnings and desires. This same
situation is now presented to Lyudmila Petrushevskaya, she is honest and
upfront in her descriptions of the realities, which she observers and
overhears. She writes about the domestic trivialities and their tragedies,
which may in fact encompass child abuse, pedophilia, incest, attempt of murder
and so on. The subject matter can be cruel and uncomfortable, but ignoring it
does not solve it, cure it, or get rid of it. All silence does is it condones
it with muted consent. These discussions, these subjects become more dangerous
by not discussing them. If readers, people, youth are not offered informed work
or stories, about these subjects they will live a life of lies and naivety,
will be put in danger, because of the negligence of either society or writers
(who lack the freedom), to discuss these subjects with them, to show them the
realities out there, which may be very different—even horrible—then the ones
they are accustom to. The argument is not just to inform people of the
multitude of realities beyond their doorstep, it is also teaches understanding
and empathy towards those who have been subjected to such cruel treatment; perpetrated
by familiar hands; endorsed by silence; cultivated by ignorance; the space
provided by circumstance and fate. This is what makes writers like Lyudmila
Petrushevskaya so important to the world, is their unflinching gaze to look
into the witches brew, pull out the nastiest ingredients of the concoction, and
write about it. She does this not for shock value, not for entertainment
purposes, to present the realities, to give an informed depiction of the state
of affairs of some, to write their unheard stories. In doing so, Petrushevskaya,
informs the reader, but also offers solace and empathy, to those of similar
situations.
“There
Once Lived a Woman Who Tried to Kill Her Neighbour's Baby,” is described with
the subtext: scary fairytales. A few of the stories start off with the old
fairy tale beginning: “there once lived . . . “ or “there was once a . . .” et
cetera; and just like fairytales, Lyudmila Petrushevskaya provides judgement to
her characters and warning to the reader. “Revenge,” for example, details the
story of a woman who is envious of her neighbour in their communal apartment,
seeks to facilitate an accident, which will befall her neighbour’s child. She riddles
the hall with nails, leaves bots of boiling water lying about, and cleans with
sloppy vigor bleach—all in the attempt to maim and kill the child. The malice
in which this is all presented is ordinary; it’s born of human weakness, now
reduced to its more sophisticated element of envy, which has presented the woman
with the means, the reason, and the desire to harm the child. The acts are
presented in a cunning manner, that they would be dismissed as careless accidents,
more than cruel crimes. How then is evidence provided, and justice to be
delivered? Petrushevskaya is of moral character, to which she delivers moral
justice, in correspondence with the crime.
In
their introduction, Keith Gessen and Anna Summers, discuss the harvested
stories collected in the volume. They confess that they picked each story to
fit into the collection because of the mystical approach each one presents. Do not
be quick to mistake this ‘mystical approach,’ for the run of the mill magical
realism of today, which flies around like a cat on a broom. No, the stories
collected here, are akin to ghost stories, fairytales, fables, nocturnes, and
requiems for the dead. Lyudmila Petrushevskaya commented on this unique world by
titling it: ‘Orchards of Unusual Possibilities.’ The title itself brings to
mind an unusual orchard, riddled with twisted trees, autumnal branches, and
dark fruit: indigo peaches, violet apples, black plums, ultramarine cherries,
and ruby pomegranates; the kind of fruit which would feed the dead. In such an
orchard ghosts are gardeners and fairies are harvesters, while the living who pass
through are treated either with a malicious fate or lay the past to rest.
The
stories collected in “There Once Lived a Woman Who Tried to Kill Her
Neighbour's Baby,” vary in length. “Incident at Sokolniki,” is a mere two pages
with some change, long; while, “The New Robinson Crusoe,” is sixteen and a half
pages long. “Incident at Sokolniki,” is a brief story of duty, and literally
placing the past to rest. “The New
Robinson Crusoe,” comes across as almost post-apocalyptic, as a family does its
best to retain a minimal profile as they squat in a desolate village, but soon
they are forced to flee further into the woods, into their backup shelter, as
more and more refugees poor into their remote sanctuary. It’s an affecting anecdote
about the coming and anarchic changes which had swept Russia as the Soviet Union
collapsed, and uncertainty reigned supreme once again.
I
personally have always found Lyudmila Petrushevskaya a bit coarse. She’s rough
around the edges as she gets straight to the point. She does not mince her words,
nor polish the prose. Her work is matter of fact and acerbic; but shattering,
frightening and enlightening all the same. The stories in “There Once Lived a
Woman Who Tried to Kill Her Neighbour's Baby,” are written with her granular
prose, but instead of depicting the hell of the communal apartment, she turns
her gaze to the deftly surreal. in the same prose, she shatters the notions of
reality, presenting a frightening world of fate, human weakness, and moral
judgements, which is delivered with corrosive scorn. If you can get past the
shards of glass, the scattered nails, and the hidden needles out to prick; then
Lyudmila Petrushevskaya delivers a collection of short stories which truly read
like dark fairytales, which were composed and harvested from the “Orchards of
Unusual Possibilities.”
It
is easy to see why, Lyudmila Petrushevskaya, was once banned in the former
Soviet Union; her work completely disregarded socialist realism, in favour of
the true reality, and dark little fairytales which are cavity inducing, not by
their sweetness, but by their bitter resentment they breath. Thankfully though
the iron chokehold of the ideological pure censors thawed, and Lyudmila
Petrushevskaya would be free to once again publish her work, and now become one
of the most profile and respected writers at work in the Russian language. Her work
brings to mind the painted-on glass animation Aleksandr Petrov, whose beautiful
short films, can move from romanticism and lush realism, to the magical; or the
cutout animation of Yuriy Norshteyn, with his autumnal forests, and misty
woods.
Thank-you
For Reading Gentle Reader
Take
Care
And
As Always
Stay
Well Read
M.
Mary
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