Laura Lynne Williams and Igor Shpilenok met in Russia and connected over a shared interest in nature and the environment. She moved to Russia in 1993 where she opened the World Wildlife Fund's (WFF) first office with the assistance of a Russian scientist. Through her work at WWF, she met the energetic naturalist and photographer Shpilenok, founder and director of the Bryansk Forest Nature Reserve in western Russia. After four years at WWF, Shpilenok lured Williams away to work on environmental education at the reserve, and what was meant to be a short stint turned into a lifelong endeavor. Williams has also freelanced as a nature writer, contributing articles to National Wildlife, BBC Wildlife, Geo, and other magazines. She currently writes the "Notes from a Russian Village" column for Russian Life magazine. Shpilenok is recognized as a world-class photographer, especially having won an award in the 2006 BBC Wildlife Nature Photography Competition. He is also a member of an elite group of photographers committed to nature conservation-the International League of Conservation Photographers. Today, Williams and Shpilenok live in the remote Russian village of Chukhrai, whose population swelled to 21 in 2004 with the birth of their second son.
A co-worker mentioned this book to me after going to hear Laura Williams speak at Cornell last year. She told me the author was a graduate of Cornell and now lives in a remote village in Russia with her photographer/naturalist Russian husband and two sons, writing and doing environmental conservation. It sounded really interesting, so I bought the book, but my friend’s review of Williams’ talk was not incredibly enthusiastic, so I kept putting the book at the bottom of my to-read list. Finally, I picked it up this summer and can honestly say it was one of the best books I have read in a long time. I didn’t want to put it down, was always anxious to get back to it, and thoroughly enjoyed reading every bit of it—from the simplicity of Williams’ writing, to learning about Russian history and the customs and quirks of her village neighbors, to hearing the details of how she and her husband fell in love while working to preserve the Bryansk Forest. I closed the book surprised at how completely satisfied I was with it up to the very last page. At the same time, my first thought was, “I hope she writes more.” It has been a long time since I appreciated a book both for its writing and for the story itself. I consistently had to remind myself that this is Williams’ life. Few people have such an interesting story to tell, and so few recount it so eloquently. I have been craving a good book, and this went above and beyond my expectations for a good read. Williams is a gifted and natural writer without all the fluff of a storyteller.
I liked it. I liked its simplicity, its straightforward, unvarnished account of life in a poor, small Russian village and the insight it provided into the lives of some very downtrodden yet resilient people, as well as one very talented, versatile conservation crusader (the author's husband).
The book seemed a bit disorganized to me at times, but I sense that is, in part, because it lacked subheadings that would serve as guideposts, as in, "Hey, folks, we are changing the subject here." An editor could have helped here, but perhaps decided against it, seeing the unannounced hopping from topic to topic, scene to scene, as a subtle metaphor for self-reliant life in a primitive village: kind of bouncing from one task to another with no clear definition, just plugging along.
It is almost as though Ms. Williams is writing about her life and that of her adopted village as though she were writing about the natural history of, well, storks . . . and with great reverence.
The Storks’ Nest is one of those memoirs that quietly pulls you in and surprises you with how much it lingers afterward. Laura Lynne Williams shares her real-life adventure of moving from the U.S. to a tiny Russian village and building a life with a wildlife photographer in the middle of the Bryansk Forest. The writing feels honest and grounded—like you’re hearing the story over tea while bundled in a wool blanket.
There are moose rescues, encounters with bears, and even a stork they help raise—so if you love nature writing, this one delivers. But it’s not just about the animals. Laura weaves in the brutal history of the area—wars, starvation, political oppression—without making the book feel heavy. It gave me a deeper appreciation for the resilience of rural Russians and the quiet strength of building a life off the beaten path.
Some parts are slow, especially when she dives deep into background or descriptions, but I didn’t mind. It matched the pace of the life she was describing—slow, deliberate, sometimes hard, but always meaningful. Not flashy, but full of heart.
This was sort of like if A Country Year were set in a remote Russian village. The book is basically just unstructured journal entries about falling in love, animals she met, and then detours into rural Russian history/lore she learned from her elderly neighbors.
Written by a child hood friend who I eerily found a message she had sent me before she died. I nice memoir— interesting and cool to see this Russian village through an American’s eyes.
When I started this book, I thought, this is going to be a ridiculously sappy account of this woman's love affair with a Russian biologist, and I am not interested in reading it. In the course of the first chapter, I rolled my eyes probably twenty times. But despite a few lapses into cheesiness, the book's portrait of life in a tiny Russian village at the edge of a protected area is truly fascinating and compelling. Williams captures the details of the inhabitants, the environment, and the history of the region and conveys them, for the most part, without sentimentality or stereotype. Russia has always been a massive vacuum in my mind, too big to truly contemplate, but this book allowed me for the first time to feel like I had a foothold and an interest in a specific part of the country. And despite my initial skepticism, I did come to admire and appreciate the efforts of the author's husband to protect wildlife and nature in a country that was literally falling apart around him.
Occasionally the writing style started to perplex me, until I realized that some instances of odd word choice or phrasing are probably a result of the fact that the author has been speaking (and most likely, thinking) in Russian for many years.
The four star rating might be a little high, but in the end I give it that rating simply because I really enjoyed reading the book despite its small flaws.
I have mixed feelings about this book. It was interesting to learn a little about the Russian Zapovedniki, or strictly protected scientific nature reserves system, especially about one that is in western Russia near the border with Ukraine. However, I stress "little" since the book unfortunately is mostly about a young American who is in love and people in love write in a boring self-centered way. I would have really liked to know more about the reserve and its programs and the black cranes and other animals and about the environment of the area. There are also some anecdotes about living in a small dying village in Russia but these are fairly pathetic rather than really interesting.
Today I have accidentally run into a blog post -- an episode from the Russian country life. The story was written in very "classy" Russian: it reminded me of "Farewell to Matera" -- one of the must-read-at-school Russian/Soviet literature pieces. In the end of the post it was said that the story is a chapter from a book. "Perfect", -- I thought. --"Russian classics is not dead". It came to me as a great surprise that the book is originally written in English (Laura Williams has translated some chapters for her blog), and the author speaks Russian as a second language. I have ordered the book and I'm looking forward to read it. It's a pity that the book has no full color illustrations: just look at the photos from the post!
While I liked this book because of the amount of interesting information it contained, I did not like the writing. The author jumped around a lot, and added large amounts of strange details that seemed unnecessary. If it was really supposed to be a story about how she and her husband fell in love, a lot was missing. If it was supposed to be about living in the Russian countryside, I feel like it veered off course many times.
It was enjoyable, but only because I really like learning about Russia.
This book read like a collection of short stories or a diary. Even though I would have enjoyed a little more emotion in the book, I did thoroughly enjoy the stories told about remote Russian country life. The recipes were an unexpected bonus.
Not "just another ex-pat memoir." Yes, it is an ex-pat memoir, but the difference is that (a) Williams is in a village, which many foreigners visiting Russia never see, and (b) it's real insider's viewpoint.
somewhat interesting story of an American woman who goes to Russia to work in a nature preserve and falls in love with a Russian man. Not interested enough to finish it.
Great writing! Good combination of wilderness experience, wildlife conservation, and personal narrative. A reminder of the kinds of lives that are available to us if we are willing to take the risk.