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Our Assessment:
B+ : very fine writing and story-telling; doesn't entirely work as a novel See our review for fuller assessment.
Review Consensus: - Return to top of the page - The complete review's Review: The Life of an Unknown Man begins as the story of Shutov, a writer originally from the Soviet Union now living -- and enjoying modest success -- in France. By now -- in 2003 --, however, his shtick is growing old, even to the much younger Léa, who adoringly attached herself to him but is now detaching herself and moving on: Literary Paris fascinated her and Shutov seemed like a well-established writer. The illusion lasted less than a year. The time it took for a young woman from the provinces to get her bearings and realize that this man was, in fact, no more than a marginal figure. And even his past as a dissident, which in the old days gave Shutov a certain aura, was becoming a flaw, or at least a sign of how prehistoric he was: just think, a dissident from the eighties of the previous century, an opposition figure exiled from a country that had since been erased from all the maps !What's a Soviet relic to do ? Well, why not head back to Russia ? Shutov digs out the address book he brought into exile with him, and it's: "A whole lapsed world Shutov is trying to bring back to life" -- most notably in seeking out old flame Yana. Needless to say, you can't go home again. Shutov lands back in St. Petersburg -- just in time for the grand tercentenary celebrations -- but, yes, things have changed. Truth remains malleable ("Historians rewrite the truth every day"), consumerism has run rampant, culture is being hollowed out by an embrace of "American-style know-how" (so that they're now: "selling books like vacuum cleaners"). Sure: To these young Russians no book is forbidden now. They travel the world (Vlad has just come back from Boston), they are well fed, well educated, free of complexes ... And yet they lack something ...Of course, Shutov hasn't exactly been keeping up with the times in general: he bombs on TV when he's invited on a show in France, and he admits to not even owning a computer, and still writing everything by hand (before typing it out ...). He is a man from a different era; he is also a man whose formative years were spent in a different -- and now, as he'll come to realize, almost entirely lost -- (socio-political-)culture: as he admits before venturing back: "I'm not Russian, Léa. I'm Soviet" Yana, on the other hand, has adapted right along with the times, and is right in the thick of everything, busy and efficient. In the house that she is renovating -- and where Shutov stays -- there's still one more tenant to be dislodged, an old, silent invalid who will be picked up soon. But on his last night in the house it's Shutov who keeps an eye on him -- and to whom the old man, who is named Volsky, opens up, telling his story. So The Life of an Unknown Man contains a (long life-)story within a story, as Volsky recounts surviving the siege of Leningrad, and his great love, and the time after the war and how they were split up and sent off to camps under Stalin, and then what came after. A saga from different, Soviet times, a life lived under the most difficult of circumstances -- and yet Volsky still managed to make something of it. Apparently just what Shutov needs to hear. There's no question that Makine can write: Shutov envies Chekhov -- "So simple, yes, and yet so right, so evocative ! They could still write like that in the good old days. No Freud, no postmodernism, no sex in every other sentence" -- and complains that: "These days you have to write differently ...", but Makine shows there are still traditional ways of getting by, and The Life of an Unknown Man is an impressive prose-work, its chapters and episodes beautifully crafted and presented. But that doesn't quite make a novel, and Makine's simple Russian-doll construction -- with one very long life-story nestled inside the narrative -- doesn't quite work; just because there are two compelling (in very different ways) life-tales here doesn't make for a completely satisfying work of fiction. Aside from feeling much too forced -- and also, rather unsettlingly, too nostalgic for Soviet (hard) times and the good that can come from suffering --, it leaves The Life of an Unknown Man a book that is neither fish nor fowl, a two-in-one novel that is, in many respects, very good, but still doesn't quite add up. Worthwhile, but not a complete success. - M.A.Orthofer, 30 May 2012 - Return to top of the page - The Life of an Unknown Man:
- Return to top of the page - Andreï Makine was born in the Soviet Union in 1957 and has lived in France since 1987. - Return to top of the page -
© 2012 the complete review
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