Scan barcode
tom_green's review against another edition
“I don’t want to write about war any more … To live enveloped in a ‘philosophy of extinction’ instead of a ‘philosophy of life’. To compile the interminable experience of non-existence. When I finished The Unwomanly Face of War I couldn’t bear to see a child bleeding from an ordinary bang to the nose. On holiday I fled from fishermen merrily tossing on to the sandy shore the fish they had snatched out of the distant depths; those frozen, goggling eyes made me feel sick. Everyone has only so much strength to defend themselves against pain – both physical and psychological – and my reserves were totally exhausted. The howling of a cat struck by a car drove me demented. I turned my face away from a squelched earthworm. A dried-out frog on the road. Again and again I had the thought that animals, birds and fish also have a right to their own history of suffering. It will be written some day.”-------------------------
„Nechcem už viac písať o vojne... Znovu žiť medzi „filozofiou zániku“ namiesto „filozofie života“. Zbierať nekonečné skúsenosti ne-bytia. Keď som ukončila knižku Vojna nemá ženskú tvár, dlho som nemohla vidieť, ako od obyčajného úrazu dieťaťu tečie krv z nosa, na dovolenke som utekala čo najďalej od rybárov, veselo si hádžucich na breh ryby z ďalekých hlbín, bolo mi zle od ich strnulých vypučených očí. Každý má svoje zásoby, fyzické alebo psychické, z ktorých čerpá silu a ktoré nás chránia pred bolesťou. Tie moje boli úplne vyčerpané. Išla som sa pominúť od kvílenia mačky, ktorú prešlo auto, odvracala som tvár od rozmliaždenej dážďovky alebo žaby vyschnutej na ceste... Veľakrát som rozmýšľala o tom, že zvieratá, vtáky a ryby majú tiež právo na svoje vlastné dejiny utrpenia. Aj tie sa možno raz napíšu.“
tittypete's review against another edition
3.0
Commies have no original ideas. The USSR saw us go into Vietnam, watched it turn into a strategic and moral shitshow, and then we’re like “We should do that.” At least that’s how Zinky Boys makes it seem. Credit to the Russians for making it even shittier though.
The common assessment by the voices in this book seem to be that the government lied about the whole thing. They were supposedly in the country to help the new, coup-installed commie government build bridges and schools. Nobody back in the USSR knew there was a war until bunches of young kids started coming back in zinc caskets. All the babushkas at home were like ‘what the frick.’
Being an oral history, this book isn’t a story but a series of anecdotal impressions from the people who fought, served in a civilian capacity or had a loved one killed.
Here are some the insights I gleaned from their stories.
The Soviets really didn’t give a crap about their soldiers. Like in WWII, their fighting boys (and girls) seemed to be regarded a just cheap cannon fodder. They had old, outdated equipment. Shitty boots. Shitty tents. Shitty cars. One guy told a story of getting a can of fish bits in his rations with an expiration date in 1959.
The older soldiers treated newcomers like shit. Young kids got their asses kicked super bad by their own guys just because everyone is a sullen Russian asshole.
There were girls there because commies are all about equality. Most of them seemed put off by being expected to fuck all the dudes in exchange for favors.
Dudes come back all fucked in the head, limbless and pissed at their country.
Everybody was obsessed with getting Walkmen and clothes and other western items to bring home because in “Eeeeen Raasha you have naathing.” When going to Afghanistan is seen the place to get nice stuff, your country is doing something wrong.
Like Vietnam, people were petty frustrated and demoralized when they got home. The war was seen as unjust and a failure but these dudes still had to fight and die. So … vodka.
I found a quote from the author via wikipedia that seems to sum up a lot of the way Russia does shit: “If you look back at the whole of our history, both Soviet and post-Soviet, it is a huge common grave and a blood bath. An eternal dialog of the executioners and the victims. The accursed Russian questions: what is to be done and who is to blame. The revolution, the gulags, the Second World War, the Soviet–Afghan war hidden from the people, the downfall of the great empire, the downfall of the giant socialist land, the land-utopia, and now a challenge of cosmic dimensions – Chernobyl. This is a challenge for all the living things on earth. Such is our history. And this is the theme of my books, this is my path, my circles of hell, from man to man.”
Yay.
The common assessment by the voices in this book seem to be that the government lied about the whole thing. They were supposedly in the country to help the new, coup-installed commie government build bridges and schools. Nobody back in the USSR knew there was a war until bunches of young kids started coming back in zinc caskets. All the babushkas at home were like ‘what the frick.’
Being an oral history, this book isn’t a story but a series of anecdotal impressions from the people who fought, served in a civilian capacity or had a loved one killed.
Here are some the insights I gleaned from their stories.
The Soviets really didn’t give a crap about their soldiers. Like in WWII, their fighting boys (and girls) seemed to be regarded a just cheap cannon fodder. They had old, outdated equipment. Shitty boots. Shitty tents. Shitty cars. One guy told a story of getting a can of fish bits in his rations with an expiration date in 1959.
The older soldiers treated newcomers like shit. Young kids got their asses kicked super bad by their own guys just because everyone is a sullen Russian asshole.
There were girls there because commies are all about equality. Most of them seemed put off by being expected to fuck all the dudes in exchange for favors.
Dudes come back all fucked in the head, limbless and pissed at their country.
Everybody was obsessed with getting Walkmen and clothes and other western items to bring home because in “Eeeeen Raasha you have naathing.” When going to Afghanistan is seen the place to get nice stuff, your country is doing something wrong.
Like Vietnam, people were petty frustrated and demoralized when they got home. The war was seen as unjust and a failure but these dudes still had to fight and die. So … vodka.
I found a quote from the author via wikipedia that seems to sum up a lot of the way Russia does shit: “If you look back at the whole of our history, both Soviet and post-Soviet, it is a huge common grave and a blood bath. An eternal dialog of the executioners and the victims. The accursed Russian questions: what is to be done and who is to blame. The revolution, the gulags, the Second World War, the Soviet–Afghan war hidden from the people, the downfall of the great empire, the downfall of the giant socialist land, the land-utopia, and now a challenge of cosmic dimensions – Chernobyl. This is a challenge for all the living things on earth. Such is our history. And this is the theme of my books, this is my path, my circles of hell, from man to man.”
Yay.
ksiazkoty's review against another edition
4.0
4,25
Dawno nie czytałam tak brutalnego i bezpośredniego reportażu, gdzie autorka podaje niewygodne szczegóły wojny i stawia na bardzo obrazowy opis. Nie stara się jej romantyzować, wręcz przeciwnie. A jednocześnie pisze z wyczuciem, zrozumieniem i współczuciem. Szokujące, jak połączyła surowość z empatią.
To co autorkę spotkało kilka lat po wydaniu książki - również mnie zaskoczyło. Niesprawiedliwe.
Dawno nie czytałam tak brutalnego i bezpośredniego reportażu, gdzie autorka podaje niewygodne szczegóły wojny i stawia na bardzo obrazowy opis. Nie stara się jej romantyzować, wręcz przeciwnie. A jednocześnie pisze z wyczuciem, zrozumieniem i współczuciem. Szokujące, jak połączyła surowość z empatią.
To co autorkę spotkało kilka lat po wydaniu książki - również mnie zaskoczyło. Niesprawiedliwe.
luisdzo's review against another edition
4.0
Desgarradores relatos sobre las vivencias de guerra de los entrevistados, escritos y descritos con una pluma impecable.
sloatsj's review against another edition
4.0
I stayed home ill from work, and what better condition to finish off “Zinky Boys” by Svetlana Alexievich, who won the Nobel Prize last year for her writing - “a monument to suffering.”
The title refers to the zinc coffins used to ship the remains of Soviet soldiers from the nine-year war in Afghanistan. The coffins arrived sealed because sometimes just one body part was inside, or a shovelful of dirt to add heft. The warfare often involved land mines, and it was hard to get through four or five pages before someone new had lost his legs or arms or head, or was simply blown to pieces. Only some pieces, and not always the right ones, made it into the coffins.
“After it was all over we collected up our boys in bits and pieces, even scraping them from the sides of the APC. We spread out a tarpaulin, their common grave, to try and sort out which leg or fragment of skull belonged to whom. We weren’t issued identification tags because of the ‘danger’ of them falling into enemy hands. This was an undeclared war, you see - we were fighting a war that wasn’t happening.” (p. 170 Private, Intelligence Corps)
What struck me most about this book was the terrible sorrow of mothers who lost their children. Their grief was powerful and tragic. When Alexievich won the Nobel Prize the committee noted her work isn’t a history of events but a “history of emotions ... an emotional world,” and that is clear here and also in her book “Voices of Chernobyl.”
Beyond the emotional impact, the most striking thing was the veterans’ and their loved ones’ sense of betrayal by a pointless war poorly fought.
The pain and emotional upheaval makes the book uneasy reading. The format helps, however, consisting of short interviews with veterans or loved ones left behind. When Alexievich won the Nobel Prize last year the committee cited her use of “polyphonic writings,” which refers to the mix of voices that constitute her books. She rarely intrudes; she conveys.
If there is a weak spot it is that the book is occasionally monotonous in tone, partly because the veterans all have a similar story to tell. But the women medics and nurses do help with a different perspective, as do the widows and mothers.
I was drawn to this book because I was overwhelmed by “Voices of Chernobyl” a couple years ago. That was the better book, in my opinion, because it seemed more diverse in its story-telling.
The title refers to the zinc coffins used to ship the remains of Soviet soldiers from the nine-year war in Afghanistan. The coffins arrived sealed because sometimes just one body part was inside, or a shovelful of dirt to add heft. The warfare often involved land mines, and it was hard to get through four or five pages before someone new had lost his legs or arms or head, or was simply blown to pieces. Only some pieces, and not always the right ones, made it into the coffins.
“After it was all over we collected up our boys in bits and pieces, even scraping them from the sides of the APC. We spread out a tarpaulin, their common grave, to try and sort out which leg or fragment of skull belonged to whom. We weren’t issued identification tags because of the ‘danger’ of them falling into enemy hands. This was an undeclared war, you see - we were fighting a war that wasn’t happening.” (p. 170 Private, Intelligence Corps)
What struck me most about this book was the terrible sorrow of mothers who lost their children. Their grief was powerful and tragic. When Alexievich won the Nobel Prize the committee noted her work isn’t a history of events but a “history of emotions ... an emotional world,” and that is clear here and also in her book “Voices of Chernobyl.”
Beyond the emotional impact, the most striking thing was the veterans’ and their loved ones’ sense of betrayal by a pointless war poorly fought.
The pain and emotional upheaval makes the book uneasy reading. The format helps, however, consisting of short interviews with veterans or loved ones left behind. When Alexievich won the Nobel Prize last year the committee cited her use of “polyphonic writings,” which refers to the mix of voices that constitute her books. She rarely intrudes; she conveys.
If there is a weak spot it is that the book is occasionally monotonous in tone, partly because the veterans all have a similar story to tell. But the women medics and nurses do help with a different perspective, as do the widows and mothers.
I was drawn to this book because I was overwhelmed by “Voices of Chernobyl” a couple years ago. That was the better book, in my opinion, because it seemed more diverse in its story-telling.
kvw1993's review against another edition
4.0
Za samą książkę pewnie byłyby trzy gwiazdki, ale czwarta dochodzi za dokumenty z procesu, które dołączono do polskiego wydania tej książki (mam nadzieję, że nie tylko polskiego). One są wisienką na torcie obrazu społeczeństwa, które z afgańskiego doświadczenia wyrosło na gruzach ZSRR i które Aleksiejewicz próbuje sportretować.