The Tattered Cloak and Other Stories

by Nina Berberova, Marian Schwartz (Translator)

The greatest collection by one of the great Russian writers is now back in print. First published in Europe in the 1930s and '40s, these searing, evocative stories by the late emigre writer Nina Berberova (1901-1993) are portraits of the lives of Russian exiles in Paris on the eve of World War II. The protagonists range from housekeepers and waiters to shabby-genteel aristocrats and intellectualsbut all are united in a haunting displacement from their pasts, and all share a troubling uncertainty about the future.

Genres: Short Stories, Russia, Fiction, Russian Literature, Literature, Literary Fiction, France

307 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1991

About the author

Nina Nikolayevna Berberova was a Russian writer who chronicled the lives of Russian exiles in Paris in her short stories and novels. She visited post-Soviet Russia and died in Philadelphia.

Born in 1901 to an Armenian father and a Russian mother, Nina Berberova was brought up in St Petersburg.[1] She left Russia in 1922 with poet Vladislav Khodasevich (who died in 1939). The couple lived in several European cities before settling in Paris in 1925. There Berberova began publishing short stories for the Russian emigre publications Poslednie Novosti ("The Latest News") and Russkaia Mysl’ ("Russian Thought"). The stories collected in Oblegchenie Uchasti ("The Easing of Fate") and Biiankurskie Prazdniki ("Billancourt Fiestas") were written during this period. She also wrote the first book length biography of composer Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky in 1936, which was controversial for its openness about his homosexuality. In Paris she was part of a circle of poor but distinguished visiting literary Russian exiles which included Anna Akhmatova, Vladimir Nabokov, Boris Pasternak, Tsvetaeva and Mayakovsky.

After living in Paris for 25 years, Berberova emigrated to the United States in 1950 and became an American citizen in 1959. She began her academic career in 1958 when she was hired to teach Russian at Yale. She continued to write while she was teaching, publishing several povesti (long short stories), critical articles and some poetry. She left Yale in 1963 for Princeton, where she taught until her retirement in 1971. In 1991 Berberova moved from Princeton, New Jersey to Philadelphia.

Berberova’s autobiography, which details her early life and years in France, was written in Russian but published first in English as The Italics are Mine (Harcourt, Brace & World, 1969). The Russian edition, Kursiv Moi, was not published until 1983.

Reviews

[William2]

Just brief overviews/responses. The book’s a real wonder.

“The Resurrection of Mozart”

It’s 1940 and the Nazis are occupying Paris thus forcing the population, including a number of Russian emigres living comfortably in the suburbs, to flee as refugees.

“The Waiter and the Slut”

Bleakly Chekhovian. A Russian woman escapes the Revolution as a child, comes of age, marries a banker who goes insane when they move to Paris, and subsequently descends into prostitution and poverty.

“Astachev in Paris”

This emigre, lost at first, eventually finds himself running to the song of money. His success goes to his head. Then he does something unforgivable. What a beast.

Note: Vladimir Nabokov was a Russian emigre living with Vera, his wife, for many years in Paris before he came to America to write Lolita and other novels. Often Nina Berberova’s stories give me the sense of having entered a room just after VN has left it.

“The Tattered Cloak”

Meh. I can’t relate to stories about children. I apparently arrived on earth a mature adult.

“The Black Pestilence”

It’s the 1950’s and a young Russian woman schemes to pull the money together to make the crossing from Paris to New York. She endures odious pawnbrokers and transients in order to do it. In New York she makes fascinating new acquaintances. Reminiscent of Kafka’s Amerika.

[Gila Gila]

As others have noted, this is a solemn, bleak collection of short pieces, peering in on the lives of Russian emigres living in Paris during WWII. The first story is easily the finest, “The Resurrection of Mozart”, with a chilling ending one won’t easily forget. I found the other stories hard going, in large part due to the misery of the characters populating these cramped flats, shabby, steaming restaurants and crowds of Europeans living in a cloud of not only fear but general disgust with human beings, as everything spirals downward. Some of the writing is almost beautiful, but the air of damp and mold never truly recedes, the grime gets under your fingernails, and there is nothing but treading water as the tide inexorably comes in. If I sold that ring, I could eat in the cafe. If that bastard comes to me instead of his wife tonight, nothing else would matter. Life is emptying in grains, like coarse salt. This, along with the desperate ache consuming the women we meet here, the obsession with one odious man after another, left me empty. I’ve read a lot of WWII literature, had family that came before me who perished in the war - at some point, the visions of hell became so unbearable that I knew I had to step away. It’s difficult to say why these stories didn’t move me. I read them all, increasingly numbed - except for that knife of an opener. That one cuts through the page to blood.

[William]

The story called 'The Resurrection of Mozart' is about the best piece of writing I've come across about the retreat out of Paris in 1940.

[Giovanni García-Fenech]

I was ready to give this five stars but the tone of the book started changing towards the end; the stories lost their hard edge and became dreamy (the change starts somewhere in the middle of "The Dark Spot"). They were still well written, but to my taste not nearly as affecting. "The Waiter and the Slut" is as cutting as a George Grosz drawing, but "In Memory of Schliemann" is perhaps more akin to the sentimental art of Ben Shahn--not bad, but far from great.

[Katia Mullova]

A bunch of short stories about Russian exiles, which I came across via Miranda July recommendation. Pretty hard book to find. Some of these went over my head more than others ('Memory of Schliemann' — what was that about Nina!) but the best of them ('The Tattered Cloak', 'Astashev in Paris') capture the essence of tragic Russian hearts so well.

[Erma Odrach]

Really enjoyed this Berberova book. It is comprised of 6 stories dealing with Russian exiles living in Paris just before the outbreak of WWII. I found them to be subtle and evocative and thoroughly engaging. Much better than The Ladies from St. Petersburg collection.

[John]

her stories are so vivid and earthy and dramatic and beautifully written. think of a more modern, euro-centric chekhov.

[Daisy]

So we stood on the corner by the stationery shop and were deeply insincere with each other.

[Dawn Boukhatem]

A collection of melancholy stories about the aloneness that resides inside.

[Amy Lynn]

Too depressing, thought it would get better, but it didn't.

[Lisa]

"The Resurrection of Mozart" story was the best. "Schliemann" story was my least favorite. Would've given 4 stars but the quality decreased as the book went on.

[Tess Jones]

Beautiful writing, but too heavy for me at the moment.

[Denise]

A unique set of stories with a clear, classic Russian flavor.

[l]

very somber.