Many people consider Russian literature on the of greatest in the world. Every advanced literature class you’ve ever taken at either high school or college at least mentioned great Russian writers such as Dostoyevsky or Tolstoy. I’ve never been a huge fan of Russian classics – maybe it was the way they were taught to us in Soviet schools, maybe I simply cannot appreciate the subtlety of Tolstoy’s description of a Russian peasant’s soul. In any case, as a print junkie, at least I’ve always been proud that that Russia had literature.
In the mid 1980’s, with the birth of Gorbachev’s perestroika came the death of Russian literature. Actually, it was the death of Russian culture altogether. Very few movies were made and there were virtually no original literature being produced. Bookstore shelves were filled with fairly crappy translations of Western mystery/murder novels or, even worst, Daniel Steel. When I immigrated to the United States in 1994, I could not wait to learn how to read English books so I could actually enjoy books once more.
In the last few years this grim situation finally began to change. New writers began to emerge – Boris Akunin with his wonderful detective novels that take place in the 19th century Russia, Sergei Lukiyanenko with excellent sci-fi and Maria Semenova with “Russian fantasy” that’s actually not a Tolkien knock-off.
This morning I made my weekly pilgrimage to the Barnes & Noble, and I saw both Akunin and Lukiyanenko books translated into English. And, oddly enough I felt proud and elated. Even though I have all of Akunin and Lukiyanenko books in Russian, I bought their books just to support the new emerging Russian literature.
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