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A review by codubh
Soviet Milk by Nora Ikstena
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
Flawless book and a fantastic translation, I just wish I could speak Latvian so I could read the original and see how it compares.
It follows an unnamed mother and daughter living in Latvia under Soviet rule, alternating the perspective between the two. It follows each of their childhoods at first, providing an interesting contrast between the two, and gradually fills in the mother's past as a talented gynaecologist/obstetrician, and how her severe depression and defiance at authoritarianism leads her into the desperate situation she's in for most of her daughter's childhood.
I found the latter part of the book particularly interesting, as the two perspectives start depicting the same time period, and we get to see how each of them perceive their relationship with the another, and how that develops as the daughter matures, and the mother's illness worsens.
It provided an informative insight to both a country and time period I know comparatively little about, and I'm glad I read it as I will be visiting Latvia soon. The language was quite poetic without being overeffusive, and I enjoyed Ikstena's use of small stories to portray the overall oppressive atmosphere of the time, although they were often harrowing (e.g. the daughter's hamster and his life in the cage). The translator is to be commended as well for conveying the story in a style of English that's idiosyncratic at times, but not baffling, and never dull.
The conclusion of the book is truly heartbreaking, but is a poignant reminder that clinical depression is not always solved by an improvement in external circumstances, and that sometimes a person's spirit gets too crushed to ever dream to hope again.
It follows an unnamed mother and daughter living in Latvia under Soviet rule, alternating the perspective between the two. It follows each of their childhoods at first, providing an interesting contrast between the two, and gradually fills in the mother's past as a talented gynaecologist/obstetrician, and how her severe depression and defiance at authoritarianism leads her into the desperate situation she's in for most of her daughter's childhood.
I found the latter part of the book particularly interesting, as the two perspectives start depicting the same time period, and we get to see how each of them perceive their relationship with the another, and how that develops as the daughter matures, and the mother's illness worsens.
It provided an informative insight to both a country and time period I know comparatively little about, and I'm glad I read it as I will be visiting Latvia soon. The language was quite poetic without being overeffusive, and I enjoyed Ikstena's use of small stories to portray the overall oppressive atmosphere of the time, although they were often harrowing (e.g. the daughter's hamster and his life in the cage). The translator is to be commended as well for conveying the story in a style of English that's idiosyncratic at times, but not baffling, and never dull.
The conclusion of the book is truly heartbreaking, but is a poignant reminder that clinical depression is not always solved by an improvement in external circumstances, and that sometimes a person's spirit gets too crushed to ever dream to hope again.