Tolsstaya’s sole novel is a science-fantasy farce about the destruction of Russia – and it has divided opinion since publication.
-Who is Pushkin? From around here?
-A genius. He died long ago.
-He ate something bad? (p-123)
Russia has had much to say in the way of anti-utopias, having more or less written the rulebook on them. The post-apocalyptic story – this sister subgenre, however – far less so. Where has there been a Russian or Soviet novel that can stand alongside Walter Miller Junior’s A Canticle for Leibowitz from the America of 1959?
This impasse came to be challenged in 1987 as the Soviet edifice began to wobble, when Ludmilla Petrushevskaya penned The New Robinson Crusoe: A Chronicle of the End of the Twentieth Century.
Published in Novy Mir, this short story explores the life of a family in an unspecified post-disaster scenario. Then it would be 15 years later when Dmitry Glukhovsky launched the Metro cycle – his account of the survivors of a nuclear war who have decamped to the Moscow subway – which has become a global pop culture phenomenon.
Sandwiched between these two portents however, came Russia’s true post-apocalyptic classic. Tatiana Nikitichna Tolstaya, Leo Tolstoy’s grandaughter, had become known for her short stories commenting on the perestrioka period. The Slynx (Kys) constituted something of a departure for her. Begun in 1986 and toiled over for 14 years whilst in Russia, Europe, Britain and America, this novel came to claim the Triumph prize in 2001 (a prize which had been set up a decade earlier to recognise outstanding contributions to Russian culture). It became the book to be seen with in the Russia of 2002.
Not all critics were convinced however. Dmitry Bykov was one of the naysayers, comparing the novel to a poor man's The Snail on the Slope ( referencing a novel by the Sturgatsky brothers).
It would be three years later when the late Jamey Gambrell would transmute into English the awkward colloquial Russianess of Tostaya’s prose as a New York Review book.
Clownland.
Tolstaya’s fantasia opens some two centuries hence, after an event spoken of as as the Blast (some sort of nuclear accident). This has laid waste to Moscow and nature, of sorts, has reclaimed the space. A new community of survivors has built a new town there -called Fyodor Kuzmichsk.
The townspeople are mutated in different ways (referred to as Consequences) and this fact creates the gross out texture of the proceedings.
Otherwise they are in a new Dark Ages: not religious, yet full of superstitious dread. Free-thinking, which is to say any kind of intellectual curiosity, is dicouraged with self-censorship.
Having only just invented the wheel, they assume the earth to be flat, have no mirrors and cannot make or sustain fire. They subsist in a feudal society regulated by the fearsome Saniturions who sledge their way round the town, wearing red hoods, on the look out for dissidence. The mainstay of the economy is mice – from which they make their food and clothing. Printed books from pre-Blast times – Oldenprint – are spurned as they are thought to give off radiation. The leader, however, transcribes poetry from the past and passes it off as his own work.
It is a topsy-turvy landscape in which rabbits dwell in trees and chickens can fly. The main beasts of burden are theDegenerators – unfortunate human-like (and articulate) four legged chimeras. The eponymous Slynx, meanwhile, (the Russian word – kys– suggests a jumble of different animals) is an invisible entity lying in wait in the surrounding forests and much feared bt Benedikt, the narrator.
One audacious twist appears in this not so unfamiliar freakshow. It is that there are some people – Oldeners – who have not only survived the Blast but have done so with a much prolonged lifespan. As refugees from the pre-apocalypse world, many try to restore a sense of cultural continuity by, for example, putting up signposts around with the name of old Moscow streets on them. For the reader, they provide a much needed foothold in things.
Benedikt, our cheery simpleton host, talks us through the do’s and don’ts of his milieu and through the unpredictable plot. He will marry above his station, gain a love of reading after being introduced to a stash of Oldenprint books and be lured into becoming an insurgent….
The dreamlike close of the novel is as puzzling as it is disappointing. Another enigma is the very title of the novel. What are we to read into the fact that this bogeyman has been highlighted in this way?
New take on an old genre.
Science fiction aficiocandoes will be reminded of Riddley Walker by Russell Hoban (1980) and Engine Summer by John Crowley (1979).
There is more of a light touch to Tolstaya’s approach though. Indeed, some high comedy arises from the hero’s rustic ignorance. Here the Oldener, Nikita, hints at how to produce fire:
Nikita Ivanich said: -Think friction, young man. friction. Try it. I'd be happy to but I'm too old. I can't` Benedikt said:–Oh, come on now, Nikita Ivanich. You talk about how old you are, but there you go being bawdy again. (p-128).
We also have the Comedy of Revulsion – as Benedikt details people’s Consequences and unappetising eating habits in a gleeful manner.
However, it is Tolstaya’s embrace of folkloric elements which distinguishes it from other post-apocalyptic novels. Those expecting Naturalism are instead obliged to take the story on a more metaphorical level.
Gambrell deserves credit for conveying the linguistic oddness of the novel with its corrupted syntax (feelosophy deportmunt store and so on).The chapter headings are old Russian alphabet letters and words that begin with these. (Like Clockwork Orange, The Slynx could function as a primer on the Russian language – as well as Russian poetry, much of which is dispersed throughpout the novel).
Informed by Chernobyl, The Slynx does contain a cautionary aspect to it as well as a Ray Bradbury-like concern with cultural amnesia (which may well be a reflection on it having been written in early post-Soviet times). Printed books seem to safeguard against this. As Benedikt proclaims:
You, book! You are the only one who won't deceive, won't insult, won't abandon....(p-204).
Some other sequences draw parallels with our own times, and by no means only in Russia. Following their coup d’etat Benedikt and his father-in-law discuss freedom of ass ocean. After deciding that no more than three can gather Benedikt raises a point:
And what if there are six people in a family? Or seven?
Father-in law spat:...let them fill in a form and get permission (p-278).
Glukhovsky and Tolstaya are not often mentioned in the same breath but I did feel a real sense of kinship between the Metro series and The Slynx. Tolstaya’s novel could almost co-exist in the same universe as Glukhovsky’s, by offering the story of those who survived in overland Moscow.
All quotations are from: Tolstaya Tatyana The Slynx (New York: New York Review Books, 2003). Translated by Jamey Gambrell.
The lead image:infourok.ru
