"This is a unique and necessary book. The Good Russian takes us inside wartime Russia, to a city that Jana Bakunina knows intimately. She brings us face to face with ordinary Russians, and also tells her own compelling personal story. Best of all, she writes very well." Simon Kuper, FT Journalist and author of the bestselling Chums
When Vladimir Putin invaded Ukraine in February 2022, the writer Jana Bakunina, who has lived in the UK for 20 years, felt furious, ashamed, but most of all helpless. A year later she travelled to her home city of Yekaterinburg to see how ordinary Russians viewed the conflict - and whether the soul of her nation had truly been crushed.
Jana finds a booming city seemingly untouched by war. Reconnecting with old friends, she discovers people either happy to go along with a regime that has brought them stability, or else staying out of politics. Most painful of all, her once liberal father has channelled his personal disappointments into becoming a firm fan of Putin.
In the grand humane tradition of Russian dissident writers, Jana Bakunina grapples with a universal what happens when a country you love becomes infected by nationalism? What hope is there when voices of conscience are silenced by dictatorship? And can Russians in exile still imagine a liberated future?
This is a captivating and thoughtful read. Jana brings her story to life with clarity, warmth and a striking sense of honesty. The book moves effortlessly between personal reflection and wider cultural insight, offering a perspective that feels both intimate and expansive. Her writing has a quiet confidence that draws you in and holds your attention throughout.
It is a book that lingers in the mind long after you have finished it.
I won't give stars to a semi autobiographical examination on the Russo-Ukranian war. It is well written and did generate strong feelings for myself as I had close Russian Greek friends at University and grew up surrounded with Greek Russian communities.
The guilt the author shoulders throughout the book and off the page I felt is disproportionate to the collective responsibility she espouses at the start of the book (later to be rejected as a notion towards the end , which I completely agree with) as when it is introduced it raises a greater decontextualised question . How much responsibility do we have as a society? For our countries leaders, social ills and their decisions. It's a lot to shoulder.
Do I owe uneducated impoverished communities something for my education?
The book opens with a quote and fact of the matter is that tensions between Russia and Ukraine are more nuanced than your average news anchor will admit & the simple media narrative of 'good guy' , ' bad guy'. Maybe I sound'pro Russian' but this particularly concerns the history of Zelensky's opaque activities. Not withstanding that prior to the annexation of Ukraine it was a country deemed one of the most corrupt in the world and subject to US manufactured protests. A Blackrock funded reconstruction in a natural resource rich region propagated by Ursula Von Der Lyen.
This isn't only about the sovereignty of a nation but complex geopolitical motives drive this landscape.
A persons education can be used to justify their reprehensible behaviour and is a somewhat idealised notion of what it is expected to confer on a persons moral compass. Of course I say this as someone who is privileged by their good education.
What I found interesting is that the author and her family had copies of Solzhenitsyn in their library as I recall long before the invasion being verbally attacked in a Russian literature Facebook group for admiring his writing. I was told that it meant that I like 'beautiful lies'. Of course I didn't understand and left the group. This book might explain some of Russia's collective consciousness and identity and the 'motherland'. Are modern Russians living in the past? Or just defending their collective identities? Returning to the opening quote in the book ' Since February, we have been living in a black-and-white world, in which you are either on one side or the other.'
My Little Pony is an 18+ in Russia!
This book also highlights the freedom of expression that we tend to take for granted in the West, however I can't help but feel that this too is currently under threat.
Are we moving into a fascist era? Definitely a dystopic one. Nuclear warfare, drones, AI.
When the invasion first started and I read that the Russian Ballet had been cancelled (something I used to pay to watch on the cinema) my first response was you can't cancel democracy. As in addition to that I'm guilty of owning Greek language Dostoevsky books. Is the consumption of Russian culture to be banned?
Another example of the West moving towards despotism. Hypocrisy.
I couldn't help but notice that the Fields medalist (the Nobel of the maths world) was Ukrainian. I believe in meritocracy not political correctness.
Obviously I have strong opinions which has fuelled this review.
A recommended read, if it's not cancelled!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
A clear-sighted and beautifully written account of Jana's (a Russian-born Londoner's) attempts to explore why her friends and family back in Russia aren't protesting against the regime and the war in Ukraine. The responses are more nuanced than you might expect.
Read this alongside Bird's Milk, Bakunina's first, much more lyrical, memoir of growing up in Russia, to experience her heartrending alienation from her homeland and family.
And then read Stories by a Russian Londoner to see how Bakunina has crafted her experiences into the teardrop clarity of fiction.
The Good Russian is a personal book Jana writes with courage about identity, belonging, and what it means to love a country while struggling with what it has become. There’s is no preaching just real people, real conversations and difficult questions.