Febbre bianca: Un viaggio nel cuore ghiacciato della Siberia

Trylogia rosyjska

by Jacek Hugo-Bader, Marzena Borejczuk (Translator)

Questa è la storia di un viaggio come nessun altro: Jacek Hugo-Bader si avventura attraverso la Siberia, da Mosca a Vladivostok, in pieno inverno. Viaggiando da solo su una jeep russa modificata, attraversa un continente che è grande due volte e mezzo l'America, pieno di banditi e dove le strade lo sono solo di nome.
Lungo la sua odissea, Hugo-Bader scopre grandi tragedie umane, ma anche un inatteso humour nero tra i pastori di renne, le tribù nomadi, gli ex hippy, gli sciamani, i senzatetto e i seguaci di alcune delle molte religioni arcane che ancora fioriscono in questa terra isolata e incredibile.

Genres: Nonfiction, Travel, Russia, Polish Literature, Reportage, Audiobook, Poland

320 pages, Paperback

First published June 25, 2009

About the author

Polski dziennikarz i reportażysta, od 1990 związany z "Gazetą Wyborczą". Pracował jako nauczyciel, pedagog szkolny i socjoterapeuta, a także jako ładowacz na kolei, wagowy w punkcie skupu trzody chlewnej, właściciel firmy kolportażowej i sprzedawca w sklepie spożywczym. Reportaż Hugo-Badera zamieszczony w Wysokich Obcasach stał się inspiracją dla autorów scenariusza filmu Plac Zbawiciela. Został dwukrotnie nagrodzony nagrodą Grand Press (1999, 2003).

Reviews

[Metodi Markov · Rating 5 out of 5]

Репортажните пътеписи са особен вид литература - помагат на множество хора да пътуват и опознават безопасно света, без да напускат домовете си за миг дори. И ако са добре написани, занимават умовете ни дълго след като сме ги прочели!

Заглавието всъщност е донякъде неточно - тази книга разкрива непознати за широката публика страни от живота в РФ, украинските Крим и Донбас преди руската инвазия и окупация от 2014 година, води ни до невероятно бедната и изоставена и от бога Молдова, към завладяното от руските окупатори Приднестровие и към края си се завръща в Сибир и Санкт Петербург.

Общото е еднакво за цялото постсъветско пространство - ужасяващи лични истории, безпътица и мизерия. Написаното от Яцек е брутално откровена дисекция на руското - мизерия, нерешими проблеми и душевна гибел…

Потресаващо е положението на коренните сибирски народи под руското иго, те са обречени на тотално унищожение и повечето ще изчезнат до няколко десетки години. А през това време от всички ТВ канали вият добре платени пропагандисти, как някой биел негрите в САЩ.

В РФ няма дори приблизително точна статистика за броя на наркоманите, алкохолиците, серопозитивните, бездомните деца и възрастни, за извършените всяка година убийствата и тежки престъпления, за броя на пътните произшествия, за размерите на корупцията и злоупотребите, за епидемията от Ковид и така до безкрай… Русия в цялата и прелест!

Не е най-доброто плажно четиво, но се справих. Включени са и чудесни фотографии на част от героите на книгата. Историите са поднесени малко ала Алексиевич, но прощавам сходството, защото са правдиви и истински.

Препоръчвам на всеки, който има желание да надникне зад лустрото и преструвките на престъпния диктаторски режим на Путин и крадците му!

Цитат:

"В СССР отрасна безнадеждно, безотговорно, самолюбиво, жестоко поколение без никакви принципи, норми, вяра и срам. Комунистите взеха всичко и нищо не дадоха в замяна."

P.S. Корицата на българското издание е чудесна и много показателна!

[Lorenzo Berardi · Rating 4 out of 5]

They do love reportages in Poland.

In fact, one of the things I like the most since I moved to Krakow is that any given bookshop here includes a properly named 'reportaż' section. Which is something unheard of in Italy and still rare in the UK.
Depending on the size and on the quality of the Polish bookshop, the reportage section might host only a handful of titles (most likely belonging to the excellent 'Czarne' serie) on a single shelf or cover an entire wall from top to bottom.

Now put yourselves in my shoes.
Just like Polish readers do, I love reportages. However, not being able to grasp written Polish more complicated than what your average 5 year old Pole reads, it's quite frustrating to stare in awe at those scores of potentially fantastic but unfathomable books most of them written by authors I revere. Not to mention that sometimes the top shelf of the reportage section is simply too high to be reached from my glorious 1.70 metre tall.

I'll tell you a funny one here. Once I asked for help to a bookseller assistant in order to check the price of a copy of 'Dukla' by Andrzej Stasiuk placed on a topshelf by saying 'Jestem niktim' which - as far as my memory went - was supposed to mean 'I am short' but actually sounds like 'I am nobody'. 'Short' is translated with 'niski'. She smiled, shook her head a bit, stretched her right arm and handed me the aforementioned book. As it cost too much for my budget, I left 'Dukla' behind but placing it on the penultimate shelf from the top as it dawned on me that 'niktim' didn't exactly mean 'short'. Blush.

If there's a Polish Booksellers Association out there, please pay attention: diminutive people read as much as tall ones do and have their same rights to help themselves in your esteemed bookshops!

Anyways, back to the review.
They know how to write reportages in Poland and two generations of Polish journalists have been publishing excellent books spanning the whole world. I guess that part of the merit for the shining health of contemporary Polish reportage journalism goes to success gained by Ryszard Kapuscinski, but the newspaper Gazeta Wyborcza played an important role as well.

Jacek Hugo-Bader the author of 'White Fever' works for GW just like fellow journalists such as Mariusz Sczygiel, Pawel Smolenski, Joanna Bator and many others. Now the good thing of Gazeta Wyborcza is that it's a rare example of a bestselling national newspaper that manages to keep its quality standards high. And employing great reporters giving them the chance to follow their own stories whenever they can helps in making the newspaper an interesting and widely appreciated one.

'White Fever' (Biała gorączka) is introduced to the international readers in its English translation as 'a journey to the frozen heart of Siberia', but it's much more than that.
Jacek Hugo-Bader (JHB) will forgive me to state that his crazy driving trip through Siberia from Moscow to Vladivostok on a sturdy customised Lazhik jeep made in the USSR serves as an eye-catcher for those in the UK and the US who are unfamiliar with his foreign sounding and hyphened name. There is indeed very little of Jacek stubbornly driving his Lazhik to and through desolate Siberia in 'White Fever', to be precise these travelogue bits can be found from page 5 to 31 and from page 297 to 320. That's it.

You might wonder what did Jacek write from page 32 to 296 and the answer is: plenty of good stuff.
With the pretext of waiting for his second-hand Lazhik to be given an extreme 'pimp my gear' treatment by Muscovite mechanics, say, Jacek Hugo-Bader delves into the very little known Russian hippy community delivering a poignant and hilarious dictionary of their jargon, history, personal stories and beliefs. And this is only the first tasty filling you can find inbetween the 'Siberian driving trip' slices of bread in the surprising flavourful sandwich made up by the Polish journalist.

If all that you know about Russian music doesn't get any further than the raucous chansonnier Vladimir Vysotsky or the thorny (for anoter Vladimir) balaclava-disguised Pussy Riots, Jacek here fills the gaps. Russian hip-hoppers, gangsta-rappers, anarcho-punks, Christian Orthodox rockers, neo Nazi metalheads: you name them and Hugo-Bader interviews them all in his own fashion.

Which brings us straight to a chief point: JHB's writing style.
Unlike other contemporary Polish journalists I read and appreciated so far (chiefly Szczygiel, Stasiuk and Gorecki), Jacek Hugo-Bader puts much of himself in his interviews. I mean, he expresses his own opinions in a colourful no-nonsense way that might leave you surprised. I don't know how much of this attitude is genuine and how much is fabricated on editing but I'd daresay JHB is a honest guy.

Writing about an extremely delicate and emotionally touching subject like AIDS and the millions of Russian people infected by the HIV virus due to lack of information, appalling hygienical standards, drug abuse and what calling libertine sexual behaviors might be an euphemism, JHB doesn't beat around the bush.
Interviewing 'Miss HIV' Svetlana chosen as the spokeperson for scores of Russian sieropositive youngsters, Hugo-Bader poses just the right questions but is not afraid to include personal remarks such as 'What arrogant bastards', 'Bloody hell!' or scolding Svetlana on her 'proudly telling' him about the 'sexual blitzkrieg' of her HIV-infected husband: 'Sveta, for God's sake!'.
Now all this might sound out of place or even patronising but - as surprising as it might look - it works in drawing a portrait of Sveta as the actual person she is thus making the interview utterly engaging.

What follows are mesmerizing pages revolving around the semi-forgotten area of current Kazakhstan where Soviets detonated around 300 atomic bombs both underground and overground between the from 1947 to 1963 keeping the local populace there as guinea pigs. As you might wonder, this is another hard topic to write about involving poor, unemployed and desperate people who have been falling ill and dying by infinite variations of devastating cancer for fifty years. Hugo-Bader is simply masterful here and this 'The Study Aids Store' is the best short reportage I read in a long while.

Far less convincing is the interview with Mikhail Kalashnikov the inventor of the infamous AK-47, the assault automatic rifle that killed millions in the hands of armies and terrorists alike since 1949. I had already read an interview with the same guy (who recently died) written by...David Remnick, I guess, but JHB by clearly showing his distaste for the - certainly distasteful - Russian engineer doesn't do a good job. True, at the time of the interview Mr Kalashnikov was a senile, full of himself jerk and Hugo-Bader lost his temper with his reticence, but I still believe something better could have been written.

The half-failure of Kalashnikov is more than balanced by the fantastic reportage entitled 'A small corner of Heaven' where JHB visits the community founded by one of the three Russian 'living Christs'. In their remote corner of Siberia, Vissarion and his thousands of acolytes have built up a self-sufficient religious community founded on the sometimes crazy (don't piss in the woods! It's forbidden) sometimes reasonable teachings of a former militiaman who discovered to be no other than Jesus Christ. Again, this reportage brought to my mind bits I had read before involving Mormons, Evangelicals and so called New Age communities (Tobias Jones, was that you?), but Hugo-Bader makes it pitch perfect.

To conclude with, just before the second slice of Transiberian bread there's the reportage providing the title to the whole book: 'White Fever'. I liked it and cared about the ill-fated Evenks people, but to be completely honest with you, I've found it a bit long-winded thus losing some of my interest at the end. The story of these Siberian herders who became relentless alcoholics self-destroying themselves in the process due to the low tolerance of alcohol within their organism is incredibly sad and moving, but the stratagem of the countdown used by JHB is ultimately too excruciating to bear.

Which reminds me that this review lasted for too long and it's high time to finish it.

Let me tell you this: if I were you, I would go to the nearest bookshop, look for 'White Fever', buy it and read it. If you live in Poland that is incredibly easy to do. Just hope that your copy of 'Biała gorączka' is not on the topshelf. But I guess you're likely to be taller than me or at least with a better command of the Polish language.

[Beata · Rating 4 out of 5]

Stories that really get into your head, incredibly sad stories about disappearing natives tribes of Siberia due to alcohol introduced to them by the Soviets, stories about daily struggle, stories about women, and a story about a lonely journey in a jeep across the Siberia, a journey many of us would like to take one day. A book truly disturbing...but worth reading.

[Emiliya Bozhilova · Rating 4 out of 5]

Bulgarian review first, followed by the English translation below

Хуго-Бадер е от онези пътешественици, които могат да седнат край който и да е огън и да завържат приказка с който и да е странник - на по чаша или бутилка водка, или пък две… Защото в руския далечен изток, който за света си е чист север, това е универсалната смазка да понесеш живота. До известен момент… Имаш нужда от водка ако си евенк или бурят - защото са те маргинализирали и отнели даже езика и спомените на народността. И руснаците те третират като боклук. Малцинствените народи в Сибир са като индианците в САЩ - огнената вода е единственото, коет�� им е останало. Имаш нужда от водка, ако си жена, шофьор на дълги разстояния, болен от СПИН, сектант-мистик, криминален тип, държавен бюрократ, военен, ветеран, милиционер, бездомник, академик. В безбрежната руска шир всеки има нужда от водка, за да се анестезира. Това е планета, на която благоустроен и благополучен живот не съществува и не е предвиден. Даже олигарсите-мародери не са щастливи… Страданието в различните му форми, както и съпътстващата го деградация, са толкова битовизирани и толкова разпространени, че не правят впечатление никому, освен на някой стресиран чужденец…

Хуго-Бадер не е безразличен към ежедневните си сблъсъци със страданието и падението, и това много ми хареса. Не се свени да срита човешките отломки по пътя си с идеята да им посочи и нещо друго освен собствената им зловонна обсебеност. В държавата на слепци и паралитици и на престъпници, това занятие обаче е горе-долу безмислено.

Първата част обхваща дългото пътуване на Хуго-Бадер през Сибир, а във втората репортажите са от Украйна, Молдова и подобни, с единствено полу-изключение: магичният Байкал. По тези места единствената разлика често е предпочитанието към коняка, вместо към водката, но реалността убива хората също така страшно както и в Сибир. И после как да няма мистици, които гордо да проповядват, че страданието пречиства, а благоденствието е дегенератско и заплаха от гнилия Запад. Защото те само и единствено страдание си имат в изобилие…

Hugo-Bader is one of those travelers who can sit down by any fire and strike up a conversation with any stranger—over a glass or a bottle of vodka, or perhaps two... Because in the Russian Far East, which to the rest of the world is pure North, this is the universal lubricant needed to endure life. Up to a certain point... You need vodka if you are an Evenk or a Buryat—because they have marginalized you and stripped away even your language and ethnic memories. And the Russians treat you like garbage. The minority peoples of Siberia are just like the Native Americans in the US—firewater is the only thing they have left.

You need vodka if you are a woman, a long-distance truck driver, an HIV patient, a sectarian mystic, a criminal, a state bureaucrat, a military man, a veteran, a militsioner, a homeless person, or an academic. In the boundless Russian expanse, everyone needs vodka to anesthetize themselves. This is a planet where a comfortable and prosperous life does not exist and was never intended. Even the marauding oligarchs are not happy... Suffering in its various forms, along with the accompanying degradation, is so deeply woven into everyday life and so widespread that it doesn't catch anyone's attention, except that of a stressed-out foreigner...

Hugo-Bader is not indifferent to his daily encounters with suffering and downfall, and I truly appreciated that. He doesn't shy away from kicking the human debris along his path, with the intention of pointing them toward something other than their own foul-smelling obsession. In a country of the blind, the paralyzed, and the criminal, however, this endeavor is pretty much pointless.

The first part covers Hugo-Bader's long journey across Siberia, while the second part consists of reportages from Ukraine, Moldova, and the like, with the only semi-exception being the magical Lake Baikal. In these places, the only difference is often a preference for cognac over vodka, but reality kills people just as terribly as it does in Siberia. And after all that, how could there not be mystics proudly preaching that suffering purifies, while prosperity is degenerate and a threat from the rotten West? Because suffering is the one and only thing they have in abundance...

[Петър Стойков · Rating 4 out of 5]

С обществения имидж на Русия на велика държава и велика сила определено е свършено. Това е ясно на всички, освен на най-заблудените промити от вековната руска пропаганда мозъци.

Хубавото на това е, че постепенно почват да стават сравнително известни и популярни книги и други материали, които показват истината за Русия и положението на руския народ - истина, които някои хора виждаха и са виждали и преди, но масовата общественост не само не виждаше, ами и не искаше да види.

Авторът е полски хипи-журналист и по хипарски решава да вземе едно бусче и да пътува от най-западната до най-източната територия на Руската федерация, за да види и опише какво се случва със страната и хората извън Москва и С.Петербург.

Склонността на руснаците към консумация на алкохол е отдавна международно известна. Допреди стотина години обаче, не само в Русия, а практически навсякъде по света хората са се наливали с алкохол до припадък, предполагам защото животът им е бил кофти. Ако си мислите, че тогава е имало разлика между масовото пиянство и алкохолизъм в Русия и примерно Финландия и САЩ ще се излъжете.

Само че другите държави преодоляха тия проблеми, главно чрез развитие и подобряване живота и надеждите на населението си (а САЩ и чрез злополучния Сух режим), докато Русия не успя да направи това - нейните хора са същите обезверени, нещастни пияници, каквито са били преди век.

Описанието на градските несретници и провинциалния начин на живот в далечния руски север (от там минава пътят на автора) е потресаващ. Колкото и човек да е очаквал, че положението е зле, пак се изненадва колко зле е всъщност. На този фон съвсем на място изглеждат статистиките, които съм посочил в един от линковете по-горе.

Русия просто е държава от третия свят. И то в епоха, в която третият свят доста бързо излиза от тази категория, а Русия всячески се стреми да остане в нея.

[Anina e gambette di pollo · Rating 4 out of 5]

Se qualcuno non fosse già andato da Mosca a Vladivostock, lo può utilizzare con profitto per il prossimo viaggio.
La scelta dell’auto, l’organizzazione delle riserve di carburante, le batterie che devono stare al caldo, l’accortezza per avere caldo in auto nel caso ci si dovesse fermare a 35/40 gradi sottozero. Insomma decine di cose da sapere di dover fare quando si deve attraversare la Santa Madre Russia e la sua difficile figliola: la Siberia.

Tuttavia non è un classico libro di viaggio; l’attenzione è sugli uomini più che sui paesaggi.
A parte un paio di casi, un’intervista a Mikhail Kalashnikov ed una, tentata, a Vitalij Ginzburg (Nobel per la fisica, poco prima della morte), il resto è fatto dagli incontri.

Figli dei fiori rochettari, avanzati da un’epoca di emarginazione sociale, ormai vecchi o quasi, rosicchiati dalle droghe.
Seguaci di una delle decine di sette nate dal 1991, quella di un Cristo ritornato che ha prodotto una quantità di testi sgrammaticati e quasi illeggibili che però rispondono a tutto: dai perché del mondo, come vivere in modo ecosostenibile, come cucinare e cosa.
Appartenenti all’etnie degli evenchi e dei tuva. Due delle molte etnie siberiane destinate all’estinzione.

L’estinzione per gli evenchi (Tungusi) è iniziata, tra le altre cose, con la russificazione forzosa dei cognomi, dell’insegnamento della lingua russa, dei toponimi. Esattamente come facemmo noi in Slovenia, Croazia ed Istria. Roba molto diffusa.
E’ proseguita con il fatto che queste etnie, come i nativi americani, mancano dell’enzima che metabolizza l’alcool. A loro basta un bicchiere per partire per altri lidi e non bevono un bicchiere, ma quantità industriali di alcool etilico e acquaviti casalinghe, nella quali testa e coda non si buttano. Si ubriacano e nelle crisi di febbre bianca si lanciano seminudi nella neve in folli corse che terminano con una fucilata in testa o una corda ad un albero. Uomini e donne indifferentemente. Natalità bassissima.
Le vicende vengono fuori da un incontro con una donna che redige il registri dei decessi.
Sono circa 36.000 su un territorio di 2.500.000 km quadrati.
Un paio di anni fa lessi Ultimo quarto di luna, storia romanzata di un gruppo di evenchi cinesi (ce ne sono 26.000). Molti gli aspetti della vita nomade che possono affascinare l’uomo occidentale (che sa che non dovrà mai vivere così, per fortuna), ma di alcool non se ne parlava. Forse gli evenchi cinesi non bevono.

I tuva bevono meno, ma hanno avuto tanti problemi perché praticano lo sciamanesimo. Sono circa 200.000 tra foreste e permafrost, una propria lingua e un bel numero di sciamani, ognuno con il proprio albero, e tutti con un’età irriconoscibile e una pelle di corteccia. Come i vicini mongoli praticano un caratteristico canto gutturale dagli effetti ipnotici.
Anche all’autore è stato praticato questo rito della durata di 5 minuti per lui, di alcune ore nella realtà.
Ne ha guadagnato la previsione di un incidente d’auto (che in effetti avvenne e per quale, nonostante i dubbi, si era in parte premunito) e una minuscola bambola di legno con un ancor più minuscolo sassolino all’interno.
L’autore la utilizza con la sua bimba: quando ha il mal di testa la scuote come un sonaglino e il mal di testa passa. Crederci? Be’, agitare un sonaglino male non fa.

Interessante da leggere anche perché, curiosamente (?), mi sembrava a volte di essere nel Bronx o in qualche parcheggio roulotte della San Ferdinando Valley o nelle riserve indiane che si sono succedute nel corso del tempo.
Vissarion, nuova reincarnazione del Cristo, non fa venire in mente gli USA perché nella setta il denaro è pressoché bandito e non si usa la televisione, bandita pure lei.

25.08.2014

[Roberto · Rating 3 out of 5]

“La regola numero uno è non fidarsi di nessuno. Non parlare con la gente incontrata per strada e meno che mai bere vodka insieme. Non andare in giro di notte, non fermarsi nei paraggi dei bazar e non prendere in affitto camere dalle donne che sostano davanti alle stazioni. In Russia la gente è selvaggia, molto aggressiva. Se la macchina resta un panne in mezzo al nulla, e la notte incombe, bisogna tuffarsi nella foresta. Una volta lì, piantare una tenda.”
Il pericolo dei lupi è molto inferiore a quello degli uomini.

Il libro, molto interessante, è il reportage del polacco Jacek Hugo-Bader che in pieno inverno ha attraversato tutta la Russia, da Mosca alla Siberia, a bordo di una UAZ, uno spartano fuoristrada russo, incontrando un incredibile numero di difficoltà, dalla condizione delle strade, al freddo, ai banditi, alla corruzione. A parte la descrizione del viaggio, l’autore si concentra sulle persone; piccole storie, spesso piene di povertà, di vodka, di aids, di prostituzione e di droga, che aiutano a capire come funziona l’intero paese.

“Ci vuole un vero e proprio esercito di uomini per tenere d’occhio tutti e tutto dappertutto! Perché non si tratta solo di macchine. In Russia si sorvegliano case, le persone, i giardini, le piantagioni, i boschi, gli animali della foresta e quelli di allevamento… Decine, centinaia di migliaia, ma che dico!, milioni di uomini non fanno altro nella vita che vigilare, custodire, controllare e stare attenti affinché altri uomini non rubino quello su cui vegliano. Milioni di vigili, portinai, sorveglianti, guardiani e gorilla: venuti al mondo, cresciuti ed istruiti soltanto per sorvegliare oggetti.”

[Sarah · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is not really a travelogue, but rather a sort of twisted hagiography of desperate lives across Siberia. While struggling with his Lazhik across the frozen mouth of hell, Hugo-Bader insinuates himself into various alternative communities (there's hardly a 'regular' Russian in it). The last focus is on the Evenk, slipping into extinction (like most of the other native groups in Siberia) because, mostly, of alcohol... something of a contrast to the beautifully produced and apparently wholly pants-on-fire RT documentaries about the bucolic lives of the reindeer herders of the taiga. Here's the Evenk one.

I feel that only a Pole could have written this - I say that with admiration. It's detached but compassionate, and he can explain how, if not exactly why, things have got to where they are, and I am awestruck at his ability to (decide this is how he wanted to mark his fiftieth birthday and) see this through to the end, with a spirit similar to that of Polish mountaineers (see for instance Jim Shephard's last story in You Think That's Bad - about arguably pointless and dangerous but heroic pursuits). It's flipping grim, though.

[Антония Апостолова]

Онова, което си помислих още от предговора на тази книга - а той коварно ме разсмя преди тя да ме зашемети с усещането за абсолютен човешки потрес - е, че тя трябва да бъде изписвана на страдащи от путинизъм и от вбесяващо погрешната диагноза “русофилство” (защото поддръжниците му у нас са последните, които всъщност обичат Русия заради онова, за което трябва да бъде обичана). Опасявам се, обаче, че делирът, в който се намират, няма да бъде отрезвен от тази противоотрова.

Обикновено не пиша за нехудожествена литература, но не мога да пропусна да отразя по някакъв начин впечатленията си от тези забележителни разкази-репортажи на големия полски журналист Яцек Хуго-Бадер - един от ония самотни рейнджъри, които не можеш да срещнеш в редакцията на “Газета Виборча” от 9 до 6, а които предприемат рисковани и донякъде дори самонадеяни приключения в търсене на истината. Неудобната, нелицеприятната, трудната за гледане и възприемане истина.

“Алкохолен делир. Литературни репортажи за Русия от XXI век” (изд. “Парадокс”, 2019, превод от полски - Диляна Денчева) е потресаващо четиво, което през годините от първото десетилетие на XXI век ни отвежда в Русия и други територии след разпада на бившата съветска държава - от Москва до Владивосток през тайгата, в Молдова, в Украйна, в Приднестровието, в Крим преди анексирането му, в Средна Азия, на езерото Байкал, в руските мегаполиси.

Често обвиняват Бадер, че репортажите му са скръбно, трудно за преглъщане четиво. Оправданието му е, че това е открил, на това се е натъкнал. Истината е, обаче, и че това е търсил. А от него в бившите републики - дал Бог.

В “Алкохолен делир” журналистът слиза до човешкото дъно, за да ни запознае от първо лице с изчезващи племенни народи, покосени от самоубийства и алкохолизъм, с наркомани, с болни от СПИН, с различни субкултури като хипари и пънкари, с момичета, станали жертва на търговците на плът, с шамани и православни, с последователи на един от няколкото възкръснали Христосовци в Русия, с миньори, които измират всеки ден, с бездомници… но също и със съмнителни бизнесмени и политици, бивши ченгета и кагебейци...
Прочетете цялото ревю за книгата тук: https://bit.ly/2GQHbuT

[Elena Petrova · Rating 5 out of 5]

Една много ужасна и много хипнотизираща книга, разбиваща много митове за живота и душевността на хората от бившия Съветски съюз. Не мога да отрека, че имаше и пасажи, толкова брутални, че не можех да ги дочитам.

[Pamela · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5

[daria · Rating 3 out of 5]

czytanie przez samego autora audiobooka oraz odgrywanie scenek wywiadów było zabiegiem odważnym, ale w tym wypadku zupełnie nietrafnym.
miałam wrażenie, że Hugo-Bader gardzi każdą osobą z którą rozmawiał podczas tworzenia książki.
trzy gwiazdki tylko dlatego, że poniektóre rozdziały były naprawdę ciekawe i chwytały za serce. posiadać jednak trzeba chociaż podstawową wiedzę o Rosji/ZSRR.

(andrzej i love you bro, ale co to za polecenie)

[Marina · Rating 2 out of 5]

Una delusione terribile. Certo, il bello di un viaggio è anche la gente che si incontra. Ma l'autore parla solo ed esclusivamente della gente che incontra, e tutti quelli che incontra sono inevitabilmente delle persone piene di problemi: tossicodipendenti, alcolisti, sieropositivi. È un libro pieno di orrore e francamente non credo che in Siberia siano tutti così. Certo, ho capito che in alcuni luoghi la piaga dell'alcolismo è molto pronunciata, ma mi pare impossibile che Hugo-Bader non incontri anche persone senza tutti questi problemi. Inoltre, pensavo che non si sarebbe concentrato solo ed esclusivamente sulle persone.

Del resto, in uno degli ultimi capitoli, uno di quelli più cupi, lo dice anche lui: si parla tantissimo di morte e "se non ti sta bene, non leggere". Naturalmente aveva ragione lui, ma avrebbe dovuto dirmelo nel primo capitolo, non a 50 pagine dalla fine.

[Anna · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5 gwazdki

Zawiodłam się na tej książce. A przynajmniej na jej głównej części, tej o Rosji. Spodziewałam się reportażu drogi, historii o ludziach napotykach podczas długiej podróży po bezkresnej Syberii. To mi obiecywano. Tymczasem dostałam zbiór bardzo różnych historii o Rosji. Owszem, jest trochę o tytułowej białej gorączce, ale też o psach z moskiewskiego metra, lokalnych raperach, nosicielach HIV, milicji, itd. Z wysokich ocen wnioskuję, że większości czytelników to odpowiadało, ale mi nieszczególnie. Gdyby to jeszcze był zbiór reportaży z gatunku tych "ciężkich", wtedy inaczej byśmy rozmawiali, jednak ton i język są tu raczej lekkie i nieszczególnie skłaniające do przejęcia się dramatami, o których się czyta.

I tu dochodzę do tego, co najbardziej przeszkadza mi w tak wielu polskich książkach o naszych wschodnich sąsiadach (wszystkich poza Litwą, bo Litwa istnieje w naszej zbiorowej świadomości tak gdzieś do "Pana Tadeusza" i raczej się nią nie interesujemy) - przekonanie, że to przedziwne dzikie krainy, gdzie z kranów leje się wódka i wszystko jest poprzewracane do góry nogami. Tam się jedzie, żeby przeżyć "przygodę" i otrzeć o prawdziwe "niebezpieczeństwo". Oczywiście nie będę się kłócić ze statystykami dotyczącymi spożycia alkoholu i upierać się, że strzelanie do znaków drogowych to zupełnie zwyczajna rozrywka. Nie twierdzę też, że autor koloryzuje i przesadza. Chodzi mi raczej o to, że uwielbiamy stawiać się w stosunku do Rosji lub Ukrainy w pozycji tych cywilizowanych, podczas gdy u nich niewiele się zmieniło od czasów kozaków gnających konno przez stepy i zostawiających za sobą płonące wsie.

A "Biała gorączka" jest właśnie takim zbiorem opowieści dziwnych, przerażających i absurdalnych, potwierdzającym tylko przekonanie, że były Związek Radziecki to Dziki Wschód i przed pojechaniem tam najlepiej spisać testament. Dodam, że pisząc to, wywracam oczyma. Nawet dobór rozmówców doprowadzał mnie do pasji, bo większość z nich to plotące od rzeczy oszołomy, którym nikt nigdy nie powinien się pozwalać wypowiadać. Poniekąd podziwiam autora, że - o ile pamiętam - tylko raz stracił panowanie nad sobą. Ja bym z tej wyprawy wróciła z krwią na rękach.

Co nie znaczy, że nic mi się w "Białej gorączce" nie podobało. Hugo-Bader ma dobre pióro i co prawda jego styl nie pasuje mi do tematyki, jednak te lżejsze fragmenty książki wypadły dobrze i kilka razy nawet się uśmiałam. No i przede wszystkim dobre są te teksty, które traktują o Ukrainie i Mołdawii. To zupełnie inny klimat i – mimo zgrzytów – inny poziom. Chociaż są tam poruszane takie tematy, o których lepiej nie wiedzieć, bo taka wiedza nie pomaga spokojnie spać w nocy, to warto było dobrnąć aż tak daleko właśnie dla tych kilku reportaży.

Także… Cóż. Wiem, że 2 i pół gwiazdki to nie za wiele. Zwłaszcza, jeśli zaznacza się 2, a nie 3, ale przejrzałam wszystkie recenzje (te po polsku i po angielsku), żeby zrozumieć, dlaczego książka Hugo-Badera aż tak się czytelnikom podoba, ale nie rozwiązałam tej zagadki. Może gdybym wiedziała z góry, co naprawdę będę czytać, to inaczej bym te teksty odebrała? Trudno powiedzieć, podobnie jak trudno ukryć, że nie powaliła mnie ta lektura na kolana. Spróbuję za jakiś czas czegoś innego tego autora i zobaczę, co z tego wyjdzie.

[Michael · Rating 4 out of 5]

I found this in the travel (travelogue) section of a local Barnes & Noble. I was immediately attracted by the idea of someone writing about a cross-Siberia drive in a Russian jeep.

For an American reader of travel books, there are several things to understand about this particular travelogue. For one thing, the author is a Polish journalist (who is my age - he gave himself this trip for his 50th birthday, five years ago) and it was written in Polish originally for a Polish audience. It does not appear to have been adapted for an English-speaking audience, just translated. Depending on how much you know about Russian already, this may be good or it may be bad - the author is pretty clearly assuming the reader knows quite a bit about Russia already so a lot of the kind of "this is Russia today" context that is provided in travel books typically for American audiences at least is missing.

What one eventually realizes is that he isn't much interested in Russians but in the minority peoples of Siberia, from the Evenks to the Tuvans. The "White Death" of the title is a reference to the state that these aboriginal people end up in when they drink. Like many Poles, he doesn't exactly have an overall positive view of Russians (as opposed to the many other nationalities in the Russian Federation). Towards the end, having interacted with Russians mostly closely in connection with his cranky Russian jeep, he writes, "That's what upsets me most about the Russians - their reluctance to do anything in advance, except what's absolutely necessary, their languid way of waiting for disaster to happen before getting on with anything." One can understand this fairly broadly, not just in reference to mechanical devices.

Also, contrary to my expectation, only part of this book is a traditional chronological travel narrative - most of it are chapters devoted to a particular topics, such as the closed city Arzamas-16, or a visit with the Vissarionite sect (which was just shown in photographs on the New Yorker site), and several chapters about the native peoples that Jacek describes as dying out. The realization that this was not, in fact, a travel narrative caused me to put this down for several days, but I finally took it back up and finished it.

One blurb on the back says, "a witty, inspiring account of an odyssey into the frozen heart of a dying continent, sparkling with vignettes of human endurance. That is a pretty positive spin on what is, overall, a very depressing string of stories for the most part. Most of the so-called "vignettes of human endurance" don't sound like things are going to work out well in the long run - or in most cases, even the short run. The lives of most of the people he meets, who are mostly just regular folks and not those in positions of power or authority, sound awful.

[Denislav Yanev · Rating 4 out of 5]

Има немалко литература посветена на постсъветския живот на народите, бивши обитатели на Съюза. Голяма част от нея е писана именно от журналисти на база интервюта с позастаряващото поколение, което е израснало с лозунгите на марксизма- ленинизма и сега трябва да се приспособи в контекста на капиталистическата джунгла, заела мястото на вездесъщата планова икономика.
В този ред на мисли, тази книга не е сама по себе си изключение, нито събитие. Тя обаче обогатява образа на бившето съветско пространство през стеснената й оптика върху появата и третирането на явления като наркоманията, СПИН-а и леталното наливане с алкохол при северните, маргинални етнически групи. Интервютата имат аромат, да не кажем воня, пропити са с нищета и особена мистичност.
Полякът Яцек Хуго - Бадер като истински гонзо журналист влиза с двата крака в помията от политически зверства, лични трагедии и употребявани спринцовки, за да извади оттам бисери от изстрадано човешко познание. Препоръчвам !

[Miha Mazzini · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'm a Kindle victim: you download the first chapter and you think that's great, Polish guy driving to Siberia, to the middle of the nowhere. They you buy a book and you get a mixed bag of just about everything (presumably authors newspapers and magazine articles about Russia) - about hippies in Moscow, gays, an interview with Mikhail Kalashnikov that's just embarassing and it sound like Polish revenge for everything that happend in between the two countries, etc. If you reach last few chapters you finally get the continuing of the first one.
Very slim book if you're interested just in a journey to the frozen heart of Siberia.

[Vendedor de rápida · Rating 3 out of 5]

Un informe soviético de 1957 describe a modo de anticipación científica, casi de utopía, cómo sería el mundo -hay que suponer que el socialista- en 2007. A partir de estos informes, que tienen el tono ingenuo del programa de un partido político- el periodista polaco Hugo-Bader emprende un viaje por la Rusia postsoviética, especialmente por Siberia, que se ha transmutado en una auténtica distopía: alcoholismo crónico, radiactividad en las zonas donde se probaban armas atómicas o una interesante entrevista con Kalashnikov, el padre del arma más vendida del mundo, son algunos de los temas que trata con una prosa ágil, fácil de leer.

[Daria · Rating 3 out of 5]

2,75★

Ogólnie reportaż sam w sobie ciekawy. Styl pisania był bardzo fajny, dzięki czemu dobrze mi się tego słuchało, ale....
Autor skupia się praktycznie na samych negatywnych stornach Rosji. Trochę tak jakby przeprowadzał wywiady tylko biednymi. Czegoś nowego się niby dowiedziałam, ale było kilka długo rozwiniętych tematów, które mnie w ogóle nie interesują np o jakiś szamanach. Nie wiem czy by mi się chciało to czytać, ale przez to że słuchałam to to nie było takie uciążliwe.
Tak czy siak myślę że zaczynam przygodę z reportażami, także trzymajcie kciuki żebym się nie zawiodła, bo mój pierwszy wybór nie należał do najlepszych.

[Daria · Rating 3 out of 5]

3,5 ⭐️

[Indigenella · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ha dato il nome all'odore che ho respirato per un mese in Russia: l'odore dell'infelicità.

[Daria · Rating 3 out of 5]

Un libro di viaggio anomalo, per lo più cupo e senza speranza, ma che secondo me descrive benissimo la realtà (o per lo meno, alcuni aspetti della realtà) della Russia. La parte sul colonialismo siberiano e la distruzione delle popolazioni indigene è straziante, ma necessaria.

[Doble Malta · Rating 5 out of 5]

Es un libro demoledor.

Durante la lectura experimenté una sensación de distancia, de irrealidad, que hacía que cuando recordaba que el libro es verídico se multiplicaran las emociones sentía al leerlo. Es demencial, es brutal, es sincero. Es una búsqueda arqueológica de las bases de un país, de los restos de una civilización. Es una fotografía de un proceso de transición hacia no se sabe el qué, pero desde luego pinta mal. Ayuda a entender la relación con la muerte que tienen los rusos, que se ve reflejada en Dostoyevski y en Gogol y en toda su historia, sobre todo la reciente.

Al final entiendes lo que es el Delirio Blanco.

[Monika Chalakova · Rating 5 out of 5]

Голям е Яцек Хуго-Бадер и голямо дело е извършил със своето пътешествие и записването му в тези великолепни литературни репортажи. Прониква в забравените и пренебрегвани гънки, хора и места на Русия и прекрасно представя нейния облик от XXI век. Докато четях, все си мислех "егати, какви неща пише тук", а хем не ми е чуждо и хем съм чела и чувала. Любопитна, малко трагична, мрачна, екзотична и смразяваща. И най-вече важна книга е тази.

[Mela · Rating 4 out of 5]

Hugo-Bader's reportages about Russia (this time mostly of the 90s of the XX century). I didn't like what I heard, but it doesn't matter. People, nations, the world are as they are...

[4-4.5 stars] Not five stars, because some topics were overrepresented, so sometimes I heard the same again and again.

[Joel · Rating 3 out of 5]

In its English translation, this book's title is "White Fever"; it's ostensibly an account of the author's driving trip across Siberia in winter. That's a bit misleading, though, because only the beginning and ending sections of the book really talk about his journey. If you're looking for a travelogue that gives a good overview of the people and places and history of Siberia, this is not the book you're looking for. Go find Travels in Siberia by Ian Frazier or In Siberia by Colin Thubron instead.

I was a bit disappointed in the book at first, since it's not the book I expected or wanted to be reading; but I eventually warmed up to it. It's an oddly-arranged grab-bag of a book; rather than writing about Siberia per se, the author instead gives a ground-eye view of various issues affecting Russia. One section investigates the Russian AIDS epidemic; another section investigates the spread of numerous cults throughout post-Soviet Russia; another section investigates radioactive areas where the Soviets tested nuclear weapons, and the high cancer rates among the nearby populace; one section investigates alcoholism and suicide among Siberia's indigenous tribes, many of which appear to be headed towards extinction. One section is an interview with the inventor of the AK-47.

All in all, the book is a grim and pessimistic piece of reportage. At the beginning of one section, the author even warns the reader: "Now watch out. In this chapter the words 'die', 'kill', and 'death' appear more than fifty times. The word 'rifle' comes up eleven times, 'vodka' twelve times, and only once does the word 'love' appear, but in an unhappy context. If that doesn't suit you, don't read on." That advice applies quite well to the entire book. It doesn't do, of course, to turn a blind eye to the world's problems; it's good that there are books like this drawing attention to them, and writers like Hugo-Bader. But it's certainly a much easier book to admire than to enjoy.

[Rafal Jasinski · Rating 2 out of 5]

Mam spory problem z tą książką. Z jednej strony doceniam zaangażowanie autora, który włożył sporo serca, eksplorując tak odległe, zwłaszcza kulturowo, regiony. Widać tu pasję i poświęcenie. A jednak styl pisarski jawi mi się, jako nieco nieudolny, żeby nie powiedzieć siermiężny. Autor pisze o rzeczach niezwykle ciekawych, jednakowoż robi to w sposób, paradoksalnie, mało wciągający, nieco chaotyczny a miejscami wręcz nieinteresujący. Nie mogłem oprzeć się wrażeniu, że najlepiej wypadają w książce te fragmenty, w których pisarz oddaje głos bohaterom swoich reportaży i felietonów. Wiąże się z tym jedna jeszcze rzecz, która mnie szczególnie do osoby Pana Jacka zraziła - dystans z jakim traktuje spotykanych przez siebie ludzi, z których większość przeżyła, tudzież przeżywa niewyobrażalne wręcz tragedie. Za dużo tu ironii. Ironii, podszytej wyczuwalną niechęcią, czy wręcz kpiną.

Tematy, jak wspomniałem wcześniej, są nad wyraz interesujące a obraz Rosji, jaki dotychczas nosiłem w swojej wyobraźni zyskał nowych wymiarów. Wymiarów, o których istnieniu nie wiedziałem, i szczerze mówiąc, wolałbym nie wiedzieć.

Dlatego z pewną radością witałem te nieliczne reportaże, w których autor porzucał drylowanie ludzkich tragedii i zapuszczał się w klimaty surwiwalowe, a szczególną przyjemność (co było rzadkim uczuciem w trakcie czytania "Białej gorączki) sprawił mi reportaż ze "spływu" Bajkałem.

Podsumowując, książka niejednokrotnie wzrusza, częstokroć szokuje, jednak po pewnym czasie taplanie się w morzu ludzkich nieszczęść robi się nie tylko paskudnie przygnębiające, ale wręcz odpychające. Brakuje tu wspomnianych w opisie "kontrastów", przeciwwagi w postaci "jasnych stron" życia mieszkańców opisywanych w książce terenów.

No i ten "suchy" styl. Może i tak powinien wyglądać reportaż, ale walorów estetycznych, niestety, tutaj raczej niedostatek.

[Lars Williams · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a grimly fascinating account, by a Polish journalist, of a recent journey through the Siberian region of the former Soviet Union. The subtitle suggests a travelogue, but beyond the first and last chapter there is little mention of how he actually gets from place to place. A more consistent framing device is the short extract from a Soviet futurological publication from 1957, Report from the 21st Century, which precedes each chapter. The contrast between that publication’s confident predictions of a future with prosperity for all, eradication of disease, etc, and the grim present-day reality in a land where “a fifty year old man is a patriarch, a freak of nature”, makes horribly ironic reading.

The book describes a series of encounters with individuals and communities living on the margins of of society, in a harsh and difficult environment. Poverty and ill-health are endemic. Some of this is down to past abuses by the Soviet state - state farming policies which broke up indigenous communities, the incredible disregard for the health of the population around Semipalatinsk Nuclear Test Site in Kazakhstan - and some down to alcoholism, which is wiping out huge swathes of native Siberians. The ‘white fever’ of the title refers to the delerium tremens to which the aboriginal Siberians are particularly susceptible, and the combination of DTs and the ready availibility of firearms results in shockingly high rates of violent suicide and murder. And then there is AIDS, drug abuse….So, by no means a comforting read, definitely not a cosy armchair travelogue, but fascinating nonetheless.

[mpdg · Rating 3 out of 5]

a co u sąsiadów?

jako że jestem nowicjuszką w temacie reportaży, staram się nie być zbyt wymagająca. mój brak doświadczenia nie pozwala mi ocenić Białej Gorączki w kategoriach dobrego lub złego reportażu, więc mogę to zrobić tylko w kategorii książki.

szalenie ciekawa. chaotycznie napisana. bardzo suchy i prosty styl (co spodziewam się, jest raczej w reportażach powszechne?). teoretycznie miała chyba przedstawić różnorodność głosów i historii, ale tak naprawdę jest to historia tylko jednej grupy społecznej, tylko z różnych stron Rosji. nie podobał mi się sposób zapisania wypowiedzi tych, z którymi Hugo-Bader się spotykał. podobały mi się surwiwalowe rozdziały ze środka dziczy, te o szamanach i o samej białej gorączce.

[Vichta · Rating 5 out of 5]

Kolejna warta uwagi pozycja z mojego ulubionego non-fiction.
Cała plejada postaci, ludzi żyjących w poradzieckich republikach. Alkoholicy, narkomani, szamani, syberyjski Chrystus, handel kobietami, dziećmi i organami, mafijne państwo, epidemia AIDS, plaga samobójstw, głęboka religijność i wciąż żywe idee komunistyczne, więzienia i łagry, wymierające narody Syberii, wyprzedaż parku narodowego nad Bajkałem, dzisiejsza Jałta i moskiewscy bezdomni.
Rosji rozumem nie ogarniesz ;)