Oh Russia

My Russia: War or Peace by Mikhail Shishkin 

 

In the Forward of this book, Mr. Mikhail Shishkin, a Russian writers whose works I am yet to discover, says : It hurts to be Russian. 

And I agree. I would say : it hurt to live with or near Russian.sIt really f**** hurts. It’s lethal even. 

While reading, it felt to me as if the author was trying to make sense of his country. He needs an explanation for the absurdity. 

The book is interesting because the author provides in a chapter a historical explanation of why his compatriots became what they are now - corrupt and thirsty for power. 

I must say, however intenersing and revelatory, I did not manage to go through the historical minutiae, but I was very interested in the more recent history. 

The one involving Putin. The huge hunk of time that he swallowed and let it go down in his insipid stomach. Since then, the country as a whole is just rotting  in there. 

The author explains with different examples, even using personal stories of him growing up in Russia, how the Russians are thinking. Or better said, not thinking but reacting to fear. They are in fear. They respond to fear. When they get out of the house they put on a mask of steel. Nobody outside can see your feelings. Having feelings is making you vulnerable. 

Ukraine and the war that Russia started, takes space in the book. It takes space in our mental spaces, in our hearts as well, it stirs a lot of strong emotions in most of us. 

The author is ashamed and is asking for forgiveness from those Ukrainians and he thanks Europe in a letter, which we can read in the last chapter. It is a touching letter.

While Russia is being controlled and taken over by a mafia group, led by a sick human being, what can we do ?

We the people who have to go to work every day, have to feel and love our children while fearing that one day this crazy person might simply chop our heads off or invade our communities, our streets, our peace of mind. What can we do? The question remains open. 

I loved the parts when the author is sharing bits and pieces of this childhood. It was familiar to me. I lived a bit of that history as well.

My childhood was tumultuous in terms of political events. Even then, I could understand that we don’t like Russians, Russians are hurting, they bring pain, hunger and sickness. I was afraid of Russians. At school, it happened that my Russian language teacher was a bully. That did not improve my approach to Russians and Russia. That state of fear became my way of being in relation to the “communists”. 

As of recently, I started listening to the Russian language again. I listen to podcasts and watch movies when possible. I like the language, I understand most of the words somehow. Somehow they are in there and at the same time they are not. If I were to try to speak, that is to show an active interest or involvement with the language, I would run into this wall which was built in me in my childhood. 

At least having the chance to live outside now, outside of the red soup, I can see the outside world. I can see that there is more to life than killing other people or trying to control the world. I can see that people can actually live together and have a decent life, no matter the differences. 

I am so sad for the Russians who might also want to see the outside world, those who want peace and feel ashamed for their country. 

I am so sorry.