Snow in May: Stories

by Kseniya Melnik

The stories of Kseniya Melnik’s debut collection are small-town miracles, each a miniature epic.

Their focus is Magadan, a town in the Northern Far East of Russia, and the unvisited lives of its inhabitants and emigrants – schoolchildren, doctors, teachers, mothers, daughters. Some characters span several stories. Some of their stories span decades and continents. The measure of their telling, though, is invariably the measure of everyday existence. Their dramas, too, are made of quotidian stuff, each life with its own sly or suppressed tragedies, and its brief, often unexpected ecstasies.

Kseniya Melnik’s sensibility is sober and humorous; her stories are moving and funny. In their patient, deliberate unfolding – at once surprising and convincing – and in the fitness of their details – vital because they are suggestive – we sense, above all, an assurance that is dazzling.

Genres: Short Stories, Fiction, Russia, Historical Fiction, Literary Fiction, Cultural, Literature

272 pages, Hardcover

First published May 13, 2014

About the author

Kseniya Melnik's debut book is the linked story collection Snow in May, which was short-listed for the International Dylan Thomas Prize and long-listed for the Frank O'Connor International Short Story Award. It was published in the US and UK in 2014 and will come out in Japan in translation in 2017. Born in Magadan, Russia, Kseniya moved to Alaska in 1998, at the age of 15. She received her MFA from New York University. Her work has appeared in The Brooklyn Rail, Epoch, Esquire (Russia), Granta (Finland), O, Oprah Magazine, Tin House,Virginia Quarterly Review, Prospect (UK), and was selected for Granta's New Voices series. She was a fellow at the Bread Loaf Writers' Conference in 2014 and at Hawthornden Castle in Scotland in 2016, and served as the 2015-2016 Jenny McKean Moore Writer-in-Washington at The George Washington University in Washington, D.C.. She currently lives in Los Angeles.

Reviews

[Kinga · Rating 5 out of 5]

‘Snow In May’ was a special book for me. Those stories of a far east Siberian town resonated with me on many levels. There is a common ground, some shared experience of all those who lived in the Soviet Bloc during communism. It’s quite amazing how the themes and tropes would repeat itself thousands of miles away from Warsaw, somewhere at the end of the world. And yet, the world behind the Iron Curtain was a unique experience, difficult to explain to outsiders but wordlessly recognizable to anyone who’s lived there.

It’s a world where the constant fight for basic survival still left room for producing world class pianists, chess players or ballet dancers. A person might worry about the shortages of food and their three hour daily piano practice all on the same day. It’s a world which formed individuals particularly unfit to survive in rampant capitalism. Melnik paints this world exceptionally and adds a special Siberian flavour to it.

The stories often mingle, letting some of the characters return and then they walk away from each other. Like any good story collection, it is striving for the human and universal and it succeeds. Ex-Soviet Bloc inhabitants might recognize themselves in details but anyone can relate to the bigger themes of the usual stuff of human experience, loss, love, pain and what have you.

I think Melnik is particularly successful with stories featuring children and teenagers. It might be that I just relate to them better because I was once was a child behind the Iron Curtain, or maybe Melnik writes them better because she was one herself before she left Siberia to move to Alaska. I can see she must have got tired of snow at last as she now lives in Texas. I must say I’m terribly jealous of her talent and success but will try not to hold that against her.

These scattered, cryptic comments probably don’t the book justice, so just take my word for it – it’s simply beautiful and I hope it will be noticed and appreciated. Melnik is definitely an author to watch.

[Melki · Rating 4 out of 5]

Welcome to Magadan, Russia.




(Sarah Palin can see this from her house!)

Though I had a real problem connecting with the last two stories in the book, most of these tales of life in a cold climate were wonderful. Melnik explores universal topics like marriage, birth, divorce, death, love, hope, hatred and envy, while also touching on aspects of culture that are peculiar to Mother Russia.

I thoroughly enjoyed the first story in the collection, Love Italian Style, or In Line for Bananas. Set in 1975, a Magadan housewife is on a shopping trip to Moscow. She waits in line for school supplies, household necessities and special treats, all the while mulling over a proposed dalliance with a member of the Italian soccer team.

Other favorites were Rumba, a tale about a dance instructor's obsession with an obstinate but gifted student he hopes will bring him fame and fortune, and the title story which concerns a young boy's inability to concentrate on his piano recital performance.

Melnik has an unusual way of looking at everyday life and has the ability to turn hum-drum moments into temporary magic.

[Kseniya Melnik · Rating 5 out of 5]

As the author, I've read this book one too many times, I'd say. I give myself 5 stars for the effort & for all those missed hours of TV watching. I seem to not have embarrassed my family too much with this book. Onward!

[Rebecca · Rating 4 out of 5]

In brief: A collection of nine linked short stories about family, music, medicine, and the legacy of Stalinist oppression. Most are set in the northeastern Russian town of Magadan, though America often provides a useful counterbalance. Several stories focus on three female generations of one family, and it is a pleasure to spot the threads joining the narratives. Russian music, proverbs, and foodstuffs abound, and you can feel the bleak cold. Meanwhile, the theme of finding happiness by carving a logical narrative out of the chaos of life should resonate with any reader.


Full review, originally posted at Bookkaholic:

Kseniya Melnik grew up in Magadan, Russia but moved to Alaska at age 15. In her debut short story collection, she reflects on the past half-century of Russian history through the experiences of ordinary people coping with family and marital strife, medical trauma, and crises of meaning. “Magadan was famous for having been the center of the cruelest of Stalin’s camps...the most remote island in the notorious Gulag Archipelago,” Melnik writes. The town is thus not only of personal significance, but also a metaphorical tie to wartime tragedies.

Chronologically the first story, “Strawberry Lipstick” is set in 1958 and finds Olya both jilted in love and rejected by her chosen college. She settles for Alek and follows him into military barracks, but soon realizes she’s made a mistake when he starts gambling their money away. Olya bitterly recalls her sister’s wry proverbs: “Bride has an axe, groom is barefoot” and “A bad husband’s wife is always an idiot.” When Alek’s behavior turns violent, she escapes along with their daughter, Marina, and trains as a doctor in another town – thus paving the way for more stories featuring her descendants.

Indeed, eagle-eyed readers will remember a character named Marina in the second story, “Closed Fracture.” Tolik, retired to California after years working as an aviation engineer in Anchorage, gets a phone call from childhood friend Tolyan, who still lives in Magadan. This unexpected voice from his past prompts him to recall his years in Russia: the skiing accident that left him with a bad leg; meeting his wife Marina at a Black Sea sanatorium; and his and Tolyan’s diverging experiences of marriage and fatherhood. Looking back, Tolik isn’t always sure he’s made the right decisions – “But only in solitary confinement does memory become a merciless editor, cutting a bearable story out of the ever-accumulating mess of days.”

Five of Melnik’s stories are modified coming-of-age narratives set in the 1990s. Music is a frequently recurring element in these near-past tales. In “The Uncatchable Avengers,” the pupils of Magadan Children’s MusicSchool #1 put on a televised Tchaikovsky festival. One of the amateur pianists, Dima, finally gets through his piece on the fourth attempt – after some excruciating flubs reminiscent of the childhood performance memory in Richard Powers’s recent music-themed novel, Orfeo.

Dima shares a piano teacher with Tolik and Marina’s daughter, Sonya, who appears in two of the later stories. Sonya narrates “Summer Medicine,” set in 1993 during a stay at her grandmother Olya’s clinic. Longing to be a doctor herself, Sonya follows the staff around and makes up some peculiar ailments of her own. The hospital setting and precocious protagonist reminded me of Anthony Marra’s A Constellation of Vital Phenomena, another wonderful debut with an Eastern European setting.

In “Our Upstairs Neighbor,” the (somewhat over-long) last story, Sonya is disappointed when legendary singer Vadim Makin fails to show up for his ninetieth birthday tribute concert. Instead, her grandfather, Deda Misha, recounts Makin’s unusual life story for her. Makin, a closeted homosexual who spent time as a prisoner, had been his upstairs neighbor in Magadan. Music serving as a tonic for heartache links this story to “Rumba,” in which a middle-aged dance instructor falls for one of his young students. The latter story’s bittersweet tone reminded me of Maggie Shipstead’s Astonish Me, a novel of love and disappointment in the world of professional ballet.

“Kruchina,” the next-to-last story, also dwells on this uneasy balance between music and sadness. Masha is visiting her daughter Sveta, a Russian mail-order bride, in her new home in Fargo, where she and her daughter Katya have joined Brian and Brittny to create a new, blended family. Masha begs Katya to perform a song with her at their green card celebration party: a somber folk tune called “Kruchina,” an archaic word for grief – “the existential sorrow about a woman’s lot.” This story is, to me, the most successful juxtaposition of Russia and America, and the clearest exploration of the immigrant’s emotional impasse: “The longer I am away from Russia, the more surreal it all seems,” Sveta says. “You’re a different kind, Katya,” Masha observes. “You live in two worlds. Imagine, each foot standing on a globe beach ball.”

The two stand-out stories for me are, in some ways, the least representative ones. “The Witch,” set in 1989, is narrated by Alina, whose mother and grandmother take her to a traditional healer for her migraines. Alina makes believe that she is entering a fairy tale, with the medicine woman taking on the role of Baba Yaga, the witch in a forest cottage. Her imagination contrasts beautifully with the darker reality of the headaches – and possible Chernobyl fallout.

My favorite story of all, though, is “Love, Italian Style, or in Line for Bananas.” It is 1975 and Tanya is flying from Magadan to Moscow for a major shopping trip. In a time of shortages, she needs to stockpile food and clothing for her husband and sons. On the plane, Tanya is propositioned by a player from the Italian soccer team, who invites her to meet him at his Moscow hotel at 8 pm. All day, as Tanya gathers supplies and chats with Auntie Roza and her apartment mates, she’s pondering the offer. “Remember that the State disapproves of intermingling with foreigners,” one nosy neighbor warns. Should she take the chance on a fantasy romance?

Tanya sets off for the hotel but stops short when she sees a street seller with crates of bananas. Her sons have never tasted the fruit before, and she loves the thought of treating them to an exotic delicacy. Will she have time to wait in line for the bananas and still meet her would-be Latin lover? Like one of E.M. Forster’s Italian-set novels (Where Angels Fear to Tread or A Room with a View), this story pivots on the disparity between Italy, with its hot-blooded passion, and the stoic reality of Soviet existence. In the end she doesn’t get either thing she wished for, but realizes she’s content with what she already has – a message that echoes the wisdom of a classic O. Henry story, “The Gift of the Magi.”

Melnik brings Soviet Russia to life with a wealth of vivid detail: “hoar-frosted leaves falling with a jingle” in winter; crowded communal apartment buildings; shared experiences of privation and pain. Yet there is also something tender in her depictions of the place and its people; she lovingly weaves in proverbs, songs, and Russian vocabulary. Food is another prime trigger of memories: “The snow smelled like freshly cut cucumbers,” Deda Misha is “full of stories, like a barrel full of pickled cabbage,” and Auntie Roza serves Tanya “the perfect nostalgic borsch.”

I highly recommend these short stories; read them this May (perhaps as a pairing with Little Failure, Gary Shteyngart’s delightful memoir of growing up in Russia in the 1970s), and then keep an eye out for what this very talented young author comes up with next.


(With thanks to Caroline Nitz of Henry Holt for sending a copy of the novel; I was provided with a free ARC in exchange for my honest review.)

[Hana · Rating 5 out of 5]

A collection of nine short stories, each linked in some way to Russia's far-eastern port city of Magadan on the Sea of Okhotsk. Magadan is a grey place where winter lasts for many long, dark months and temperatures hover near zero degrees Farenheit. Only one road leads into and out of this isolated land, and for much of the year it is only accessible by air or sea. Magadan is also a haunted place: during the Stalin years it served as the port for the GULAG network of prisons and labor camps and hundreds of thousands died in the Kolyma mines in the mountains that ring Magadan.

Yet the stories are not depressing--they have a sort of matter-of-fact tone, with no self pity and much humor. Each tale gives a date beneath the title (they run from the 1970s through the present day). The stories are richly detailed vignettes of ordinary life and of ordinary people managing to dream and live despite the hardships. Melnik has a gift for description and for creating vivid, memorable characters.

I am in love with the character in the first story. Tanya lives in Magadan with a wonderful husband (a non-drinker!) and her beloved children. On a shopping trip to Moscow in 1975, Tanya is faced with a choice between bananas and a fling with an Italian soccer player. Which will it be?

Several characters appear, disappear and reappear in these stories. It's a special pleasure to catch these glimpses of familiar names--the sensation is rather like those moments when, in a crowd, you see someone you know vaguely in another context. Sonya (who longs to be a doctor) and her grandmother, Baba Olya (who actually is a doctor) are among the recurring characters and are partly autobiographical; they deserve a lovely, long family saga type novel all their own.


For more evocative photos of Magadan see this blog from Toby Dixon
http://www.tobydixon.com/magadan-russia/

UPDATE 9/12/18 Sadly Toby Dixon's Magadan photo essay seems to have disappeared from the web.

[Diane S ☔ · Rating 4 out of 5]

A novel of linked, though at times the link is subtle, stories set in the Russian town of Magadan. Magadan is the city that was the gateway for the Gulags, Stalin's notorious inhumane labor camps. The stories weave through the last part of the twentieth century. The settings are vivid and the sense of character is tangible.

The tone is very bleak, but the sense of place and time is outstanding.
We can follow the characters thought the changing fates of the town and its people. Even those characters who manage to move elsewhere are indelibly marked by their experiences. The first story was my favorite, the food lines, rather lines for everything, bandannas and the lily covered dress, are stuck in my memory. The author does such a fine job with her detailed descriptions.

If this is the authors first novel I can just imagine how wonderful will be her next endeavors.

ARC from NetGalley.

[Melanie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thank you to Henry Holt and Co. for letting me read this book in digital format.

"Kseniya Melnik’s beautiful Snow in May is an education in how history is routed, refracted, and reconciled inside the human heart. In sonorous, evocative prose, the triumphs and tragedies of Magadan are vividly brought to life. In 1890, Chekhov traveled to the Russian Far East—had he made the journey a century later, and gone a little farther north, these stories may well have been the result."—Anthony Marra

Absolutely delightful collection of interwoven stories taking place in the Russian port town of Magadan, otherwise known as "Gulag country" in the Stalin era. From musically-gifted children to precocious teenagers, from burnt-out housewives to memories-filled grandfathers, Kseniya Melnik manages to weave a stunning collective history through the adventures and tribulations of these characters, at once colorful and devastating.

With humor and compassion, with an eerie sense of details and everyday struggles, these stories grow in strength and amplitude the more you read along. There is a strong sense of accumulated emotional power at play here and the more you read about this fantastical, faraway place, the less foreign it feels and the more invested you become in the lives of these people. They are generous and wise, gritty and desperate, naive and deeply moving.

There is something a little magical happening here, at the heart of the Russian Far East as it is brought to life by a ferocious new talent.

[Althea Ann · Rating 3 out of 5]

Not so much a collection of short stories as an assemblage of linked events.
Each segment is preceded simply by the year in which it takes place. All are about people in or from Magadan, a harsh, cold and bleak city, former site of Stalin's gulags. Each story feels like a glimpse into the past of a relative - indeed, many of them are presented as someone telling of their past experiences. The characters we gain these visions of are all connected; related - although it's not always immediately obvious who's who...
I liked the format. I liked the writing. I appreciated the vivid scene-setting, and I felt for the people portrayed. (I also felt that it's highly likely that these were, perhaps, the author's own family stories.) At times, though, I felt like the book was making a bit of an effort to hit all of the American stereotypes about Russia and Russians: borscht, standing in lines, longing for the West, regimentation, ballet dancers, chess clubs, mail-order brides, Party membership... etc. Yes, it gave a 'view from the other side' to these things - but I still kind of wished there was a bit more...

And - the book as a whole was, for me, a bit too bleak to be wholly enjoyable.

A quote: "'Krucina' was an archaic word for grief, found in the old folk songs and poems. 'Krucina' grief was not regular sadness or disappointment with everyday troubles, but rather the existential sorrow about a woman's lot."

Overall, the book is not specifically about a woman's lot - there are men, woman and children here - but through the detailing of small, everyday disappointments, betrayals and griefs, the work as a whole transcends them and speaks to this greater, existential grief that is (in the author's view?), something intrinsic to Russia.

Copy provided by NetGalley. Many thanks to them, and the publisher.

[Melinda · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nine short stories linked to remote fishing port of Magadan also the former gateway to Stalin labor camps.

Colorful characters, history revealed through fable and lore. Marriage, love, envy, all addressed in an affecting and sweeping manner. Wonderful collection.

[Orsolya · Rating 5 out of 5]

There are quite a few stereotypes floating around Russia and its people. Most times, this is a cartoon version of reality and there is more than meets the eye. Kseniya Melnik debuts with a collection of Russian-themed short stories which go beyond these images in, “Snow in May”.

“Snow in May” amasses a variety of stories based mostly in the city of Magadan (“closer to Alaska than any other Russian city”). These stories portray various characters, settings, and times during the twentieth century: males, females, adults, children, etc. Melnik uses these voices to explore social classes, politics, Russian life, and love during post-Stalin times. Therefore, each story is unique but with an underlying, cohesive tone.

Melnik is very successful at offering characters that vary in individualistic personalities and voices but while also evoking strong emotions. Therefore, the reader won’t feel that any two characters or stories are too similar and there is a clear differentiation. Of course, some stories may be considered stronger than others (although all are quite terrific); but each is well-written and compelling on a literary and emotional level.

Melnik’s text is on the literary strain with vivid descriptions which feel natural and are a visual delight; while the stories’ messages are also something to behold. “Snow in May” is not simply a book of short stories but instead is a thought-provoking voyage into philosophy and stream of consciousness which leaves the reader pondering both Russia and life, in general. It can be said that “Snow in May” is somewhat somber and heavy so don’t expect sunshine and rainbows. This is Russia and not the tropics, after all.

One of the devices smartly used by Melnik in “Snow in May” is the connections between the stories (i.e. a child in one story may be an adult in another or a mother in one story is the aunt in another). These are subtle and result in “ah ha!” moments of clarity versus a feeling of foreshadowed melodrama. Also worth noting is the realistic feel of each of Melnik’s stories. “Snow in May” is alive and breathing and feel like true stories due to their high level of believability.

On a negative note, Melnik ends each story abruptly and without answering all questions. It appears that she could have kept writing but was worried about accidentally penning a novella and thus, cut herself off. This is both disappointing and tiresome throughout “Snow in May”.

The final stories in “Snow in May” are noticeably weaker and have less steam than the other stories. Despite this, they are still strong in their creativity and believability attached and thus, do not bring the downfall of “Snow in May”.

“Snow in May” is a delightful tour de force of emotion, philosophy, politics, and history in an accessible and well-written prose. The collection feels more like a reading the diaries of a family versus random stories which draws out attachment and love. Melnik is a gifted writer and could produce a wonderful novella or full-length novel (she is certainly an author to watch). “Snow in May” is recommended for readers interested in short stories enveloping Russian themes post WWII.

[Jaylia3 · Rating 4 out of 5]

I’m not always one for short fiction but I was mostly enchanted by the beautiful writing, moving characters, and fascinating almost other-world setting of these linked stories. Magadan is in a frigid far-flung eastern corner of the Soviet Union/Russia, not so far from Alaska, and while it was made notorious by its connection to Stalin’s forced-labor camps afterward it became home to an eclectic mix of artists, professionals, faith healing witches, ex-prisoners, musicians, intellectuals, and Party faithful. It’s this lively, intriguing group of people who populate the book.

The stories move back and forth in time, from 1958 to 2012, with evocative scenes of the daily lives, loves, struggles, reflections, and ambitions of these Soviet and then Russian citizens--a few of whom immigrate the short distance across the sea to America--as they coped with snow, shortages, difficult spouses, tempting propositions, and a changing world. Adults featured in one sometimes show up as children or grandchildren or secondary characters in another, which is fun to spot, layering the stories like nesting matryoshka dolls. Author Kseniya Melnik excels at creating characters that draw you into their narratives and touch you with their earnest, imperfect humanness. Some of their observations are just wonderful, for instance in the story Rumba an aging dance instructor compares the passage of time to a brilliant caricaturist, shrinking the eyes, ripening the nose, and drooping the jowls.

Individual pieces are the right length to be comfortably read in one sitting. Melnik has created gem-like collection of stories, multi-layered and affecting.

[Gina · Rating 5 out of 5]

Kseniya Melnik’s short story collection, Snow in May is a poignant debut about family, hardships, the arts, and tradition. The stories offer a glimpse into the lives of an interesting mix of characters from varying circumstances all connected with the remote Russian town of Magadan. I’m a bit ignorant when it comes to Russian lit and culture so this is collection was an informative introduction to its people during and after the fall of the USSR. All nine stories are truly works of art, but I particularly enjoyed Love Italian Style, or In Line for Bananas, Strawberry Lipstick, and Summer Medicine.

I absolutely loved Melnik’s down-to-earth way with words. Each story read as though she was sitting across from you at the kitchen table explaining, “here’s how it really happened.” Her descriptions were honest and vibrant. It was also gratifying to catch the small, but not inconsequential, interlocking parts as the narrative progressed. In just a few pages each character possesses a natural ease that you often don’t find in contemporary novels, let alone a short story. Snow in May displays the often harsh beauty of Russia in the later half of the 20th century while elegantly exposing the author’s innate talent for capturing human emotion. A wonderful collection from a promising debut author. 5/5 stars.

[Ksenia Anske · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book touched me so much. Maybe because I grew up in Russia as well. It was achingly beautiful and devastating. My favorite story The Uncatchable Avengers is still with me. I actually listened to a YouTube clip of the march composed by Tchaikovsky to "listen" to the story. Loved it.

[Sonal · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars

This book is a great insight into the lives of people from far east Russia. Most of the stories are set in Magadan. To be honest, I had never heard of this place before. The author is also from this small historic town, who migrated to Alaska in her teens. The stories seem to be inspired from her personal experiences. Most of the stories are nice but couple of them not so much. My favorites were "Love, Italian Style or in Line for Bananas" and "Our upstairs neighbor". Few stories end quite abruptly and I'm not really fond of stories when a lot of it is left to reader's contemplation.

The stories give us a glimpse of sad reality of eastern Russia. Covered in snow most of the time, people struggle for basic grocery items; things that we take for granted are rare for them. Life is hard and most of the people dream of living a comfortable American life and migrate at the first chance. The author also touches on the life of people who move to cities of Moscow and St. Petersburg for better opportunities and usually end up living in crowded communal apartments. Their lives seem no good either.
In-spite of all the daily struggles, the town's focus on arts- music and dancing is unprecedented. Magadan,famous for its gulag, end up to be a chance harbour for the Russia's best artists who were ex-prisoners.

The stories are full of compassion and the writing is expressive. The book connected me to unfamiliar lives in a remote land and for that, I believe this one was definitely worth the time.

[Mark Landmann · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm not sure how it was that I heard about this book of stories set in Magadan, set in the far, far northeast of Russia, but I was excited to read it because I have a strange fascination with these truly remote but decently big Russian/Soviet cities. So I guess it's not a surprise that my favourite parts of the book were when the city and life there, in whatever time period, was described in detail. I was briefly embarrassed, reading other comments here, that I hadn't realized the stories were linked, but then I suppose if the linking was just the recurrence of characters here and there, but without amounting to anything, I did notice that, and actually found the familiar events/themes to be a little bit tiresome. My favourite story was easily the first one, which I found very moving - I guess many comments here say the same. I'm grateful for getting to read it but then the rest of the book never quite reached the same highs, although the second and third I liked a lot too. Maybe it's just a matter of personal taste - there were a lot of coming-of-age stories after that, and I didn't (and usually don't) find those quite as interesting.

[Mag · Rating 5 out of 5]

A rare glimpse into the lives of people connected to Magdan, one of the Gulag cities in the Far East of Russia. Interlinked stories, interlinked lives, sad, ordinary, and extraordinary and beautifully written about.
Highly recommended.

[Fern A · Rating 3 out of 5]

‘Snow in May’ is a collection of short stories all set in Magadan which is in Northeastern Siberia, Russia and became famous due to its gulags.

I’m not too sure what I thought of this book to be honest. I didn’t exactly like it but I didn’t dislike it either. In many ways each individual story was fairly mild in writing yet held strong undertones of turbulent lives of the characters. While there was no real plot the stories were individual character developments that often left the reader wondering what the end for each characters story would be (they were never given).

While there are multiple themes that could be taken from this book I really felt Melnik was telling the reader that each person faces many difficult situations that may be like other people’s or completely separate. It felt though she gave no judgement to her characters, just stated their hardships and what had led to them and left the reader to decide whether they would in turn judge or not. Melnik made it clear that a person’s circumstance is not always simply a matter of choice but instead a result of surroundings, upbringing, contacts, the history and resources of a place and a desperate need to survive.

While this book left me feeling quite melancholy and despondent (like snow in May), it was a very different and therefore intriguing book to have read.

[Katie · Rating 4 out of 5]

A book of short stories set in Magadan, a town in Siberia, former gateway to the Gulag.

This is a book of fiction, but the culture and lifestyle of communism and the former Soviet Union is deeply interwoven into each story, character and plot. The stories span decades in the 20th century (communism and post-communism) and provide a fascinating and valuable window into this part of the world. I'm fascinated by Russia and found the cultural aspects of these stories consistently interesting.

This is the author's debut novel and she's only in her mid-thirties. I look forward to whatever she writes next, since this was astoundingly good. Just very high-quality writing, and the variety of characters and situations (despite the small-town setting) is impressive. It's interesting that she managed to wring so much depth and difference in these people when really, they were all stuck in the same situation: communal apartments, breadlines, the inability to advance without "connections", etc. It says a lot about human emotional and mental variety.

[Shatterlings · Rating 2 out of 5]

These just left me kind of cold, they aren’t linked enough, there’s no twist in them and I just didn’t feel much for the characters, I doubt I will remember these for long apart from the dancing one and that was just icky.

[Lex · Rating 3 out of 5]

Read in May 2021 (fittingly!) for ShelterBox Book Club.

Favourite stories (or ones that stood out most): - Love, Italian Style or in Line for Bananas
- Strawberry Lipstick
- Summer Medicine

[Meghan Betts · Rating 2 out of 5]

I'm not a fan of short stories in general, but for me these didn't go anywhere. They were more snippets of people's lives with no plot point, and no real link between them. I can see why people would like this book and the writing is good, but it's just not for me.

[Larisa · Rating 4 out of 5]

В мировой литературе существует немало примеров того, как достаточно успешные поэты или писатели, по разным причинам покинув страну, в которой они родились и выросли, добиваются известности и признания их таланта на новой родине. История России, к большому сожалению, особенно богата такими примерами. Существует даже специальный термин – «литература русского зарубежья», подразумевающий трагедию огромного исторического периода длиной в почти сто лет и объединяющий три волны русской эмиграции. Уезжая по своей воле или будучи изгнанными, порой и любя и ненавидя свою историческую родину, авторы, тем не менее, очень часто возвращаются к ней в своем творчестве. Преломляясь и видоизменяясь под влиянием времени, расстояния и иноязычной культуры, их восприятие родины приобретает иной, более яркий оттенок и изливается в поэтических или прозаических строках, заставляя читателя переживать эмоции глубже и острее.
У Ксении Мельник, молодого американского автора русского происхождения, есть великолепный потенциал и весь необходимый набор качеств для того, чтобы ярко засиять на литературном небосклоне. Родом из Магадана, Ксения впитала в себя дух России, русского севера и многовековой русской культуры. В то же время, родившись уже в конце 20-го столетия, она не успела примерить на себя шоры, кардинально и навсегда менявшие угол зрения и качество восприятия действительности советским человеком. В пятнадцать лет Ксения Мельник переехала со своими родителями в Соединенные Штаты и поселилась на Аляске. Там она выучила английский язык, закончила школу и впервые почувствовала тягу к творчеству. Право называть себя профессиональным писателем дал Ксении диплом Master of Fine Arts Нью-Йоркского Университета, а уверенности в своих силах прибавили публикации в серьезных литературных журналах Америки. Несмотря на все это, Мельник, судя по всему, сохранила, свою русскую душу и неравнодушие к прошлому и настоящему своей страны. Умея слушать и слышать, смотреть и видеть, рассказывать и увлекать, Мельник написала серию рассказов о России, объединенную в первый самостоятельный сборник «Snow in May».
Первое, на что обращаешь внимание – это разноплановость повествования. Рассказы написаны то от лица любознательного ребенка, то молодой женщины, принимающей первые удары судьбы, то пожилого мужчины, подводящего итоги своей жизни. Ксения сумела правдиво передать как детали быта московской коммуналки, так и офицерского семейного общежития на Дальнем Востоке. Ей одинаково удались как переживания пацана, учавствующего в большом и ответственном концерте в музыкальной школе, мысли которого витают далеко от черно-белых клавиш и Чайковского, так и учителя танцев средних лет, почувствовавшего вдруг неодолимую тягу к своей незрелой ученице. Поражают воображение также и широкие временные рамки, позволяющие автору охватить период с конца мрачных пятидесятых и до начала «лихих» девяностых.
Это самое начало пути Ксении Мельник в литературе – первые, но твердые и уверенные шаги. Уже сегодня она получает высокие оценки литературных критиков, которые сравнивают ее ни с кем иным как с Чеховым и Монро. Я уверена, талант Ксении находится в стадии расцвета и она еще достигнет значительных литературных высот.

[Nathalie (keepreadingbooks) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Put together, these stories form the legacy of the Russian revolution and the Stalin era. They provide an intimate window, through which we can see how the legacy of a town’s role in history affects its citizens, generally and personally. How it lingers in the back of their minds, and how ghosts of its past haunt them on a daily basis.

But they also provide an intimate window into the lives of families and individuals in everyday interactions, going about their daily business, considering which education to take, what to do with their lives, and whether they are in ‘the right place’. They aptly show the many different destinies you find in even a small town such as Magadan, and they give a nice insight into Russian culture and recent Russian history – apart from what we may know of the bigger cities.

My favourite story was actually the very first one - Love, Italian Style, Or In Line For Bananas - and Closed Fracture and Strawberry Lipstick are close seconds. They in particular showed how certain choices lead us to where we are, and how it is always that: a choice. They showed ‘regular’ lives that happen one moment at a time, until you’re suddenly somewhere you might not have expected. I am always very fond of stories like that, which might be why they were my favourites. A few I didn’t understand the meaning of at all, among them The Witch and Summer Medicine, though they were greatly and interestingly written, and a few more were simply average.

I loved how we returned to certain stories, but from another character’s point of view. You not only saw events from a different angle (which I am always a fan of), but you also saw how different characters focused on different events. We do not always agree on what has been of importance in our interactions with other people – I may obsess over a thing I said in a conversation that I shouldn’t have, whereas the other person might not have noticed at all, and instead is focusing on how she tripped in front of everyone earlier. Just to give a completely unrelated example.

On the front cover of my copy, a reviewer called this collection ‘assured’. That, I think, is the perfect word for her style and for this collection. There is no wavering, no slight hand-shaking, no glimpse of insecurity in Melnik’s writing – no trying too hard, either. Unapologetic. It is a joy to read a writer who is seemingly so confident in and with her own work. She makes me think of Zadie Smith in that way, though their styles are very different.

To sum up, the great stories were really great, but while none were bad, some were a bit confusing and others were merely OK. Melnik’s style and depiction of characters truly deserve a read, however, and I would highly recommend this one to anyone fond of the small-scale drama of domestic stories (with the Russian revolution and the Soviet era as a large-scale and very influential background) and to those interested in more modern Russian culture.

/NK

[Chris Blocker · Rating 4 out of 5]

The matryoshka doll on the cover is perfect for Kseniya Melnik's Snow in May. Like all short story collections I've had the pleasure to read, the stories are not equally weighted. There are some I love and some I think are only okay. In Snow in May, the best stories are found at the middle, nested between the rest, waiting to be found and bring joy to the one who loosened their casing.

The opening stories didn't impress me. The problem, I felt, was that the narrative style was much too summarizing. Events and back story were encapsulated within long meandering texts that did not in themselves move. As far as style, the stories were akin to oral tales passed down through the generations, being told by your grandpa. Some of these stories could've been fleshed out, descriptive text could've been acted out, and these tales could've been made into novels themselves. As they were, I found them to be tiring.

But then the surprises come, the stories that are smallest in scope: a boy at a piano recital, a girl in a dance class. These stories, “The Uncatchable Avengers” and “Rumba,” didn't have the broad scope that their predecessors had. They were tiny dolls at the center with all the heart. They were funny, heartbreaking, and thoroughly entertaining. They were two of the best short stories I've read in some time.

Moving away from these, the stories once again became broader and broader until the end, when the final story is a grandpa telling a story to his granddaughter. Ironic. Having already seen what was at the center, however, these stories didn't bother me as much as the first few. I'd found the joy at the center, and I was happy I'd read the book if for no other reason than these two stories.

[Rick Morrison · Rating 5 out of 5]

Snow in May is a series of 9 linked short stories connected to Magadan before and after the collapse of the Soviet Union. In each story, we encounter characters, settings, and themes that reoccur in later stories. The stories move back and forth in time, allowing us to see what changes and what does not in this Far East city and those who are connected to it. While some characters do reoccur, we do not get the same point of view each time, allowing us to see different facets of the characters, refracting our view of them and the circumstances at hand.

These movements may sound jarring, but I found the book a very comfortable and engaging read, going through most of the stories in a couple of days. While there are frequent reference to Soviet Union and Russia specific experiences, such as the kommunalkas, folklore, pop culture, the different Party offshoots or the long queues for necessities, I found much of the world of this book to be familiar and recognizable. The experiences and feelings of these characters - disappointments and joys in love, grief, ambition, displacement, longing, hope - are those of all of us.

I won't go into specifics of the stories, since discovering the connections as I read through was a significant joy of the reading experience. Kseniya did a great job in creating a world both foreign to many readers, but also instantly familiar and engaging. As with story collections I felt that some pieces were stronger than others, but together they work well and build a world. This was an enjoyable and touching book, and I look forward to Kseniya's future work.

[Mandy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Kseniya Melnik was born in Magadan and lived there before emigrating to Alaska when she was 15. The fact that she has first-hand knowledge of this isolated town in Russia’s Far East, a town for ever associated with the Gulag, is very evident in this collection of linked short stories, most of which are set there. With compassion and understanding she tells of ordinary people doing their best in often bleak circumstances. With the legacy of the Stalinist era still looming over many of the lives described, this is an atmospheric and authentic account of Soviet and Russian life, with much period detail, some vivid scene-setting and a truly authentic feel to it. In any collection of stories, it’s probably inevitable that some are more successful than others, but all of them here have something to offer. My own particular favourite is the first one, about a woman desperately shopping in Moscow for all the things that are unobtainable in Magadan. A simple story but very evocative of a particular time and place. I’m not much of a short story reader, but very much enjoyed these ones, and look forward to reading more of Melnik’s work in the future.

[Lolly K Dandeneau · Rating 4 out of 5]

Reading about the woman standing in line for everything made me feel incredibly worn out and appreciative that I don't have to do the same. Snow in May is about several people living in Magadan, Russia from 1950 to current day. Magadan used to be a transit center for Russian prisoners sent to Stalin prison camps. I don't know a lot about the GULAG times but prisons were certainly not a comfy place. You can imagine how that mixture of people made Magadan into what it was. People expecting a happy go lucky bunch of stories won't find that here, but what they will find is desperate yearning. With stories written about other countries, sometimes people like to put an American tint to them, which defeats the purpose. It is a Russian book, and that is what I like about it. Is it sad, sure. It makes one feel a little cold and therefore what a fitting title. The stories are complicated and the characters struggle in them but that is the way of life in many parts of the world. I enjoyed this debut, even for its heavy feel, much like constant snow filled hours. Release date is May 2014

[Becky · Rating 4 out of 5]

I received this as a Goodreads First Read book. I enjoyed the descriptive highlights of Magadan. Melnik brings the reader to her hometown through her prose while offering a touch of what life was like for the average person during the changing eras. My favorite was the coming of age story, Strawberry Lipstick. Oyla dreams of being married so she can wear lipstick just as girls in every country wish to grow up enough to wear makeup, or their grandmother's ring or to move away from home. Snow in May is a cold, haunting, collective narrative while at the same time it evokes feelings of curling up with a warm cup of tea while listening to a dear old friend reminisce stories of her childhood.
I loaned this book to my mother who enjoys Russan cultureand she loved it!

[Raven Haired Girl]

Kseniya Melnik’s outstanding debut, Snow in May, visits Magadan, an isolated town in northern Russia serving as the gate to the most brutal Stalinist labor camps.

Nine linked stories with a varying cast touching upon topics as marriage, family, hope. History presented and evolved through many challenges the eclectic cast faced.

Melnik takes daily struggles peppered with humor, sensitivity and empathy as each vignette unfolds. She masterfully takes the reader by the hand waking you through the emotional connection you develop with the characters and their plights. Once strangers, towards the end close friends. Affecting collection, impressive talent Melnik displays.


For this and other reviews visit http://ravenhairedgirl.com

[Lil · Rating 2 out of 5]

A lot of the stories just ended with no real resolution. The same characters crop up in several stories but I found it hard to remember who was who from one story to the next. “Closed Fracture” was definitely the highlight, just a shame it was so early on in the book.