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A review by lilias
Forgottenness: A Novel by Tanja Maljartschuk
informative
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.0
<i>Forgottenness,</i> weaves back and forth between two stories, that of Viacheslav Lypynskyi, a true historical figure who believed fervently in Ukrainian independence and statehood, and an unnamed writer narrator I felt might be near-autobiographical on the part of author Tanja Malijatschuk. The book opens with the unnamed writer coming across announcements of Lypynskyi’s death in old Ukrainian and Ukrainian-American newspapers. Through research, she discovers he was in poor health for much of his life as she has been. She feels a connection to this man despite the fact that he lived decades before she did. It feels appropriate she’s developed this connection to such a distant figure as she loses her grasp on time and place.
At the center of <i>Forgottenness,</i> bridging the stories together, is the written word. I was struck at the amount of newspapers the unnamed writer referenced in that section where one protagonist discovered the other, as I suspect Malijatschuk wanted me to be. Throughout the two stories, we read references to more newspapers, poetry, diaries, novels, novellas, academic papers, notes, and letters, all written intentionally as a record and as a passing along of information.
When I started reading <i>Forgottenness,</i>, I knew next to nothing about Ukrainian history. Now I know a little bit more, and much of what I learned is that I still know very little. The back of this book says it is about identity, and that is true. Language is often a huge part of identity, and I suspected, from Malijatschuk’s focus, it was an especially integral part of Ukrainian identity. I did some (very light) research to learn more because I love this kind of thing: What became the Ukrainian language was first considered to be the peasant dialect of Polish Russia. It was outlawed once murmurs of independence were felt; outlaw the common language and you outlaw unity, stopping strength in numbers. The ban on the language, instead, caused its growth as well as a collection of intellectuals to move to the western parts of Ukraine. Talk of independence grew louder.
Although I do appreciate a concise book, I wish there had been more in either storyline. While Lypynskyi’s passion was clear, I never really understood what had lead to it, why he, born in Poland, felt so strongly on behalf of the movement for Ukrainian independence. As the unnamed writer’s story progressed, I felt less and less attached to her as a character. By the end of the book I wasn’t really sure what had happened, but the meditation on Orpingtons brought me back because I do have some knowledge of chickens and that breed in particular!
I figure background knowledge would make this book more comprehensive and enjoyable. There’s an intimacy that I think could be felt by a reader who was fluent in Ukrainian culture and identity that just went over my head. That feeling you get when you wonder if an inside joke might have been shared in your presence. I recommend this book if you are curious because maybe you will be in on what I missed, and I expect that would be very rewarding.
Many thanks to W.W. Norton & Company for the advanced copy.
At the center of <i>Forgottenness,</i> bridging the stories together, is the written word. I was struck at the amount of newspapers the unnamed writer referenced in that section where one protagonist discovered the other, as I suspect Malijatschuk wanted me to be. Throughout the two stories, we read references to more newspapers, poetry, diaries, novels, novellas, academic papers, notes, and letters, all written intentionally as a record and as a passing along of information.
When I started reading <i>Forgottenness,</i>, I knew next to nothing about Ukrainian history. Now I know a little bit more, and much of what I learned is that I still know very little. The back of this book says it is about identity, and that is true. Language is often a huge part of identity, and I suspected, from Malijatschuk’s focus, it was an especially integral part of Ukrainian identity. I did some (very light) research to learn more because I love this kind of thing: What became the Ukrainian language was first considered to be the peasant dialect of Polish Russia. It was outlawed once murmurs of independence were felt; outlaw the common language and you outlaw unity, stopping strength in numbers. The ban on the language, instead, caused its growth as well as a collection of intellectuals to move to the western parts of Ukraine. Talk of independence grew louder.
Although I do appreciate a concise book, I wish there had been more in either storyline. While Lypynskyi’s passion was clear, I never really understood what had lead to it, why he, born in Poland, felt so strongly on behalf of the movement for Ukrainian independence. As the unnamed writer’s story progressed, I felt less and less attached to her as a character. By the end of the book I wasn’t really sure what had happened, but the meditation on Orpingtons brought me back because I do have some knowledge of chickens and that breed in particular!
I figure background knowledge would make this book more comprehensive and enjoyable. There’s an intimacy that I think could be felt by a reader who was fluent in Ukrainian culture and identity that just went over my head. That feeling you get when you wonder if an inside joke might have been shared in your presence. I recommend this book if you are curious because maybe you will be in on what I missed, and I expect that would be very rewarding.
Many thanks to W.W. Norton & Company for the advanced copy.