In 1996 Bryon MacWilliams left the relative stability of the United States for the chaos of post-Soviet Russia, and stayed. Over the course of nearly twelve years he reported on academe and the sciences for the world’s leading publications, and sought out the best baths—or banyas—everywhere he went. His story of Russia through its cult of steam begins on a frosty Sunday morning in a gypsy cab traveling to a bathhouse in Moscow, where the steam is conjured by an out-of-work carpenter named Grisha, who takes on MacWilliams as a kind of apprentice, allowing him into an otherwise closed world through which MacWilliams could see himself, and Russia, with different eyes. The Russian bathers insist, only half-jokingly, that the American is a spy.
Writing in a highly engaging style, MacWilliams travels the country to convey the breadth of banya culture and what it means to steam, a process that is at once a simple cleansing and a deep purification. It awakens the body and quiets the mind, generating waves of good feeling akin to an endorphin high. Each chapter of this splendid book is an episode—spanning from several hours to several days—from the Far North, Moscow, the Ural Mountains, the Solovetsky Islands, and a southern stretch of the Volga River.
With Light Steam , the title is derived from the phrase used in banyas in lieu of goodbye, is the only book in English devoted to the banya and the only volume in any language to present Russia through the lens of its bath culture, the most Russian thing there is. General readers and scholars alike will be enchanted with this unforgettable portrait of a people and a millennia-spanning tradition.
Bryon MacWilliams won awards for his reporting at U.S. daily newspapers before moving to Moscow, where he was based for nearly twelve years as a foreign correspondent reporting from the territories of the former Soviet Union. His journalism, essays, poetry, and literary translations have appeared in publications big and small, including: "The New York Times," "The Chronicle of Higher Education," "The Philadelphia Inquirer," "The Literary Review," "B O D Y," "Solstice," "Nature," and "Science."
I've personally attended banya with Bryon so this book was super-interesting to me. A thorough survey/travel book of Russian banya culture and the experiences of an American living in post-Soviet Russia. I loved the banya stories and the history, but could have done with less about the author's love life..it felt forced in what was otherwise a poignant and serious book.
Enjoyed the descriptions of banya traditions across Russia and across time. And I'm always interested to hear new angles on the Russian spirit. It's probably a complaint that's specific to me when I say that I would have liked to linger more on internal monologue and analysis.
There are passages of color commentary to leaven the travel and historical passages. But in the journalistic tradition most of the author's judgments are absent, except about the banyas themselves and other pieces of literature, etc. Not so much about the subjects he's interviewing or the information he's being given.
It's not wrong to let the words of the interviewees and the historical record supersede one's own feelings. All the same, I prefer assertive authorial voices in travel writing. When it comes to Russians, the difference between what one hears versus what one sees and knows to be the case is uniquely enormous. The self-assured pessimistic wrongness of some of my Slavic friends is one of most fascinating intrapersonal dynamics in my life.
A semi-recent example stands out to me wherein a Russian friend gave me a lecture over the cost of living versus the pay scale at her company. She made a forceful argument that the employment arrangements at her famous company were not exploitative and that my analysis, that entry-level employees were taking home less per hour for their troubles than they could in less-prestigious companies with less stress and more opportunity for advancement, was not only wrong but presumptive and infantilizing of adults who are knowledgeable about the risks they're running in their career choices and the tradeoffs involved. So powerful was her argument, in fact, that I quite forgot that only 5 minutes before she had told me that she was considering leaving her convenient apartment for a much less desirable one because, after 10 years with the company, she was having trouble making ends meet.
I find this kind of attitude characteristic and I never tire of hearing good writers and human observers comment on their impressions of Russians and Slavs. It's, like, all of the presumption of an American with none of the optimism or sense of justice.
Need to process my thoughts fully on this, but what a brilliant and much needed book. Especially in these times, both with the world teetering on the edge of war with the Russians and the larger issue of needing to live in the moment and enjoy the simple yet finer things in life that give it meaning.
I have to confess that I didn't have a great deal of enthusiasm when I approached this book. It was written by a former student (full disclosure) who asked if I would like to read it. Of course, you say "yes" to such a request. I cannot tell you how delighted I was to discover this well-written memoir. One of the greatest joys of reading is to become interested in something in which one had absolutely no interest. MacWilliams has written an engaging and thoughtful tale of his experiences living as a journalist in Russia in times of great change and turmoil. He has wrapped his experiences and personal encounters around the theme of the banya or Russian steam bath culture. This is a book to be savored. The writing is engaging, and the subject matter fascinating. I learned so much more than I anticipated, about Russia, about its engaging people, and about the souls of both. I can only wish the author a continuing journey through life "with light steam."
One of those books that makes you wonder how you could have been unaware of something as vital to another culture as the banya is to Russia. Written by a clear lover of the art, the author weaves seamlessly between the nuances of banya etiquette and aesthetics, personal stories of his life in a Russia in transition, and pertinent details of Russian culture and history. A fun read.
Very interesting. A Russophile's good resource. Just my kind of thing. (Too many commas.) The three vignettes in the first Appendix are charming. I underlined a lot. I wonder where the best banya is in my city.
A travelogue through the history and culture of the Russian banya, as different from a steam room as lightning is to a lightning bug (to steal a Twainism).