I was excited to find this new translation of six of Yevgeny Zamyatin’s short stories, having enjoyed his masterpiece, We so thoroughly and heard from a friend that three of his novellas published in Russian also made for a great read. Unfortunately, I don’t speak Russian and will have to wait for the latter, but in the meantime settled in to this collection from Alma Classics. The introduction gives a taste for some of the things lost in translation, as well as Zamyatin’s use of local vernacular and his goal of concision in writing.
The introduction also provides a brief summary of the difficult period in which Zamyatin wrote – the Civil War having started when he was 33, and the emerging Soviet state keeping a close eye on artistic output. As Margaret Atwood explained in a separate article, Zamyatin had been a Bolshevik but was aghast of the direction they took towards autocracy. In this collection we get tales published beforehand in Provincial Life (1913) and At the End of the Earth (1914), as well as tales published afterwards, including The Cave (1920), Mamai (1920), X (1926), and Flood (1929). Writing under the threat of imprisonment, we certainly see a darker tone to the latter set, as well as a strained sort of hidden meanings. Ultimately Zamyatin would write to Stalin in 1931 to request permission to leave the country, which was granted. Unfortunately, he never real came to terms with living in Paris and died just six years later.
I found the collection uneven, with Zamyatin at his strongest in Provincial Life and Flood, the first and last in the book and both 4 stars, and pretty good in At the End of the Earth, which make up most of it by page count. Among other things, we get colorful characters ala Gogol, reflections on the changing times in Russia (e.g. the comic contrast of traditional street names with those politically inspired), frankness about sex and adultery, and questions of institutions like religion or the army. In X in particular we also get some playful meta types of lines (“The policeman, who had been given no words by the author, was silent.”) I can’t say I was ever blown away and found myself wishing Flood had been a much longer work, but the book was worth reading.