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chintogtokh's review against another edition
5.0
I suppose it’s hard to digest post-1917 Russian history from an entirely objective point of view as a Mongolian, their histories have been entangled too much. Indeed one thought kept creeping from the back of my mind while reading this book: Mongolia became an independent country for the first time in its history just 25 years ago. 1921 doesn’t count: how can it when its leaders were routinely brought to Moscow for bullet-wounds or forced exile. Before that was the Qing. And before that – an era of stagnation? ennui? Since the death of Ligden in 1634, Mongolia hasn’t been independent in any way shape or form. With authoritarian communism as the only relevant-in-the-modern-age system of government known to Mongolians, with the modern day political parties playing a demented game of musical chairs every election cycle – each one drawing on its organisational structure of the MPP/CPSU – did Mongolia ever have a chance to develop? I suppose the most maddening part of it all is that Mongolia somehow managed to import even its own modern miseries from its “big brother” as well – still not independent.
This book is great, but most interesting from own point of view is its echoes in modern Mongolia (copied from my Kindle clippings):
Venezuelan and Korean soap operas, staples of 90s childhood, somehow still going strong.
Just think of the interactions between Mongols and Inner Mongols.
A description of the road to Zaisan.
Sarandavaa and World Energy Centres, anyone?
“Syncretic” Buddhism.
Aside from these, the snippets of prescience in relation to Putin’s Russia are illuminating, and slightly worrying
And this bit is just great – its interesting to try and relate to the modern Mongolian mindset.
But yeah, read the book. If anything, it has moments of great dry humor (the one who said this apparently completely serious):
More often than not when I called and asked how he was, he would say dryly, “My health is awful. I’m spending the week in a sanatorium. I may die.”
This book is great, but most interesting from own point of view is its echoes in modern Mongolia (copied from my Kindle clippings):
Venezuelan and Korean soap operas, staples of 90s childhood, somehow still going strong.
“I am sure if Nadezhda Mandelstam … would be ruthlessly critical of the inequities and absurdities of politics in post-totalitarian Russia. She would warn of the problem of expecting an injured and isolated people to make a rapid transfer to a way of life that no longer promises cradle-to-grave paternalism. She would, despite her own love of Agatha Christie novels, warn against the new tide of junk culture—the sudden infatuation with Mexican soap operas and American sneakers.”
Just think of the interactions between Mongols and Inner Mongols.
“For all of us, this is the saddest thing. We know nothing of ourselves. We have had in here in our building a Jewish boy, with a Jewish face and appearance. A funny little boy. Another boy came from Central Asia. And there was a fight between the two boys. One mother asked the Jewish boy why he was fighting the Central Asian. The little Jewish boy said, “Because he is not Russian!” The poor child didn’t even understand that he was not Russian either”
A description of the road to Zaisan.
One afternoon, we rode around in Guly’s tiny Moskvich “looking for constituents.” … The roads were generally miserable, but suddenly we found ourselves on a strip as fine as a German autobahn. Guly laughed and said, “You want to know why the road is so smooth? This is the road from Party headquarters downtown to where all the Party big shots had their dachas. They wanted a good road for themselves, and that’s all there was to it. Presto! It was built! As for the rest of us …”
Sarandavaa and World Energy Centres, anyone?
The sixth-century historian Agathias recalled “charlatans and self-appointed prophets roaming the streets” after an earthquake in Byzantium. “Society,” he wrote, “never fails to throw up a bewildering variety of such persons in times of misfortune.” In the last years of the czarist regime, Rasputin, an illiterate Siberian, convinced the Romanovs of his magical powers. The royal family was sure Rasputin was curing the heir to the throne of his hemophilia.
“Syncretic” Buddhism.
“With the Russian people,” he said, “Christianity is superficial. They are largely pagan. They observe rituals without understanding the essence. Under the political situation today, mysticism increases, and with such a low cultural level it acquires outrageous forms.”
Aside from these, the snippets of prescience in relation to Putin’s Russia are illuminating, and slightly worrying
The historian Yuri Afanasyev, a deputy now in the Russian parliament, told me he thought the Russian scene was one of dangerous flux. “The old system will never regain its shape, but all kinds of possibilities exist for the future of Russia,” he said. “We could look like South Korea, or, say, Latin America with a taint of Sicily. It is a far from sure thing that we will resemble the developed Western democracies. The pull of the state sector, the authoritarian tug, is still a very dangerous thing. Fascism, in the form of national socialism, is a major threat. And it is finding supporters not only in the lunatic fringe, but in the alleged center. The Russian consciousness has always been flawed by a yearning for expansion and a fear of contraction. Unfortunately the history of Russia is the history of growth. This is a powerful image in the Russian soul, the idea of breadth as wealth, the more the better. But the truth is that such expansion has always depleted Russian power and wealth. Berdyaev was right when he said that Russia was always crippled by its expanse.”
Many influential liberals in politics, such as Yeltsin’s former adviser Galina Staravoitova, feel that Russia’s economic failure and wounded self-esteem are so profound and combustible that the rise of a charismatic authoritarian movement in Russia cannot be ruled out. “One cannot exclude the possibility of a fascist period in Russia,” Staravoitova said on the radio station Echo of Moscow. “We can see too many parallels between Russia’s current situation and that of Germany after the Versailles Treaty. A great nation is humiliated, and many of its nationals live outside the country’s borders. The disintegration of an empire has taken place at a time when many people still have an imperialist mentality.… All this is happening at a time of economic crisis.”
And this bit is just great – its interesting to try and relate to the modern Mongolian mindset.
And so they staked their lives on a new Russia and tried to understand the pathology of the old. “Igor would quote Paul Tillich, who said there are two great fears: the fear of death and the fear of vastness, senselessness,” Seriozha said. “Death and suffering are the same for all, but senselessness means different things in different cultures. Europe chose the undeniability of death as a principle, refusing to construct anything everlasting, so life ends with the end of life and is senseless. Previous old cultures and modern Oriental cultures chose another explanation. One possibility is to create something that lasts forever, a form of eternity. So we are together and there is no death. When some cells in an organism die in one organ, the organism still lives on, because it is social and not individual. The problem of death is solved. The idea that the ego has borders that are the same as the borders of the self is a new idea; it began with Descartes’s idea ‘I think, therefore I am.’ If you ask a representative of old Roman culture or European medieval culture, ‘Does human life coincide with the life of one man?’ he’d say no.
“This was the case with Russian culture. And in Russia, this medieval mind-set has lasted until very recently. The serfs in Europe were liberated in the mid-fifteenth century, but it happened in Russia in the mid-nineteenth century. The idea of community was more important; that way the physical unit lasted eternally. The idea that the individual was of absolute value appeared in Russia only in the nineteenth century via Western influences, but it was stunted because there was no civic society. This is why human rights was never an issue. The principle was set out very clearly by Metropolitan Illarion in the eleventh century in his ‘Sermon on Law and Grace,’ in which he makes clear that grace is higher than law; you see the same thing today in our great nationalists like Prokhanov—their version of grace is higher than the law. The law is somehow inhuman, abstract. The attempts to revise this principle were defeated. The Russian Revolution was a reaction of absolute simplification. Russia found its simplistic and fanatic response and conquered its support. What we are living through now is a breakthrough. We are leaving the Middle Ages.”
But yeah, read the book. If anything, it has moments of great dry humor (the one who said this apparently completely serious):
More often than not when I called and asked how he was, he would say dryly, “My health is awful. I’m spending the week in a sanatorium. I may die.”
nelsta's review against another edition
5.0
I chose this book, not only because it won the Pulitzer Prize and numerous acclamations from prominent newspapers and authors, but because it was recommended to me by friends and strangers alike. I could tell—within pages—that this book was a classic and an easy inductee into the hallowed company of Books That Get Five Stars.
David Remnick is a very talented author. He has a subtle wit and charisma that transcends his pages. He relies on similes quite frequently. It was something my father pointed out to me and I couldn’t ignore it once he did. It’s unique and rewarding for the reader.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book. It reminded me of Evan Osnos’ book on the new China: “Age of Ambition.” In my opinion, “Lenin’s Tomb” deserves every merit and award it has ever received.
David Remnick is a very talented author. He has a subtle wit and charisma that transcends his pages. He relies on similes quite frequently. It was something my father pointed out to me and I couldn’t ignore it once he did. It’s unique and rewarding for the reader.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book. It reminded me of Evan Osnos’ book on the new China: “Age of Ambition.” In my opinion, “Lenin’s Tomb” deserves every merit and award it has ever received.
mellowdave's review against another edition
This was a reread, I hadn’t seen the books since the early 90’s. Ironically, I finished it a few weeks before Russia invaded Ukraine.
jilljaracz's review against another edition
challenging
dark
slow-paced
5.0
Excellent, but tough read. Helps one understand why the country is the way it is today.
arantzazureads's review against another edition
5.0
This is a surprisingly smooth, easy, and completely enrapturing read. It's, in fact, incredible. Non-fiction, as educational and interesting as it may get, tends to get pushed to the last in my reading list because, let's face it, it's kind just more boring. Remnick is not only a compelling and honest writer, ut everything that he writes about, all these people from the USSR, he's writing from first-hand experiences! This doesn't read quite like fiction, but no really like straight up non-fiction, either. It's a fascinating weave of stories of people who he met and spoke with and attended events with that create this insanely insightful history of the powers of the Soviet empire. In fact, I would probably even re-read this. And that's not something I've ever done before with non-fiction. Remnick, you're amazing!
will_cotton4's review against another edition
5.0
A sprawling, masterful account of the end of the Soviet Union. I suspect I'll think about this book a lot in years to come. It's a long but rewarding read, exploring the slow retreat of communism from the perspective of several of the interested groups, from hardline reactionaries to ultranationalist to liberal dissidents to Kazakh peasants. The result is an impressionistic rendering of Soviet consciousness over perhaps 10 years of its final decline and rupture.
It's been said that most nonfiction books should really be essays, and I generally agree. At nearly 700 pages, I'm surprised to find myself counting Lenin's Tomb as an exception. Every page is worth reading. Strongly recommended.
It's been said that most nonfiction books should really be essays, and I generally agree. At nearly 700 pages, I'm surprised to find myself counting Lenin's Tomb as an exception. Every page is worth reading. Strongly recommended.
dylanshears's review against another edition
3.0
The book starts slow, but morphs into a great historical account of history as it went down. Not the greatest fan of the constant input; it seemed to stagnate the story line periodically.