Hotel USSR: Memoirs of a Soviet 'Non-Artist'

by Oleg Atbashian

As a child, he was promised abundance and freedom in a communist paradise. In that bright future, he dreams of being an artist. But as he grows up, he discovers that his dream is based on a fraud and that his country is really a dictatorship governed by bullies, liars, and thieves. He and the girl he loves find themselves trapped in a labyrinth of a dysfunctional utopia they call "Hotel USSR," where every aspect of life is regulated by improbable rules that override human nature. To live their dream, they decide to break the law. This takes him on a series of tragicomical adventures that feel like acts in the theater of the a worker in Siberian oil fields, an army conscript, an inmate at a forensic psychiatry facility, a visual propaganda artist, a Soviet dissident, and an immigrant to America. And everywhere he goes he draws pictures…

Richly illustrated with the author's original artwork, this book is based on his own life story.

Genres: Autobiography, Russia

211 pages, Kindle Edition

Published September 20, 2018

Reviews

[Gerard Perry · Rating 5 out of 5]

At the risk of hyperbole, I'd like to state that this is a remarkable autobiography. Even if you're not a particular fan of this genre, there's something you can glean from the story of an artist whose vocation was thwarted because his political philosophy ran afoul of Communist apparatchiks. Even as someone who has read countless memoirs and non-fiction accounts of life in totalitarian, Communist states, I still find myself dumbfounded by some of the anecdotes recounted by individuals that were born and raised in these environments, which are beyond the comprehension of anyone that's spent his entire life in the (comparatively) free West.

That's why even I gasped at some of the seemingly surreal interactions Oleg recounted involving various Soviet physicians, teachers, and assorted Communist bureaucrats. It's almost as if you're reading a sardonic parody of real-life, but they are, alas, all too true. People living in a country where your life choices aren't centrally planned have no idea what it's like to grow up in a nation that doesn't know freedom, let alone the concept of consumer sovereignty. A point driven home by an anecdote involving the author's visit to an art supply store for the first time as an ex-Soviet inhabitant of the United States, as well as conversations held with soi-disant artists living in the West enamored with the myth of socialist realism rather than the reality of socialist tyranny.

Additionally, this book is a fantastic window into the mind of an artist and his creative inspirations. For those of you who frequent The People's Cube, you're already aware of the sardonic humor that punctuates his graphic design work, and the real-world inspiration for his satirical takes on American and European political affairs. But seeing his portraits of fellow patients and army conscripts, as well as delicate landscapes, gives you an idea of what motivated the author to pursue his interest in art as a child.

Unfortunately, I was only able to read the paperback version of this book with black and white images, but there is a wonderful colorized edition of Hotel USSR which is currently available. I'd recommend picking it up, regardless of whether or not you've experienced the yoke of Communism firsthand. It's a disturbing, amusing, and inspirational story.

[Alifa Saadya · Rating 5 out of 5]

Living in Israel, I have met many people who grew up in the former Soviet Union. They all have different takes on the experience, some more positive than others. Oleg Atbashian writes of his personal experiences, and of the deadening bureaucracy and government control of nearly every aspect of life. There are some funny episodes -- I particularly liked his remarks about how "Caucasian" in the West means a white person, but in the Caucasus itself, members of the various Caucasian ethnic groups can immediately identify each other by coloring, physical features, accents, and so on. The book is illustrated with the author's drawings and paintings, made in his 20s, until he finally gave up on trying to be an artist under the Soviet government (only "official" Party-approved artists, for example, could purchase professional art supplies). I found it quite moving when he describes going to an art supply store in the United States with three floors of various supplies, including items whose use he did not know at all.
For anyone who toys with the notion that socialism offers some coming utopia, this book can serve as a valuable corrective, for Atbashian makes a solid case for liberty.

[Miriam · Rating 4 out of 5]

It was interesting to read about life in the USSR from the point of view of someone whose "crime" was simply wanting to be an artist. Because of the subject matter there are some parts that are pretty dark, so I wouldn't recommend this book for teens without a parent reading it first. However, for anybody else it is an eye-opening look at life in the Soviet Union. I would also recommend going to the author's website, atbashian.com, to see more of his art and read the stories behind the pictures.

[Stuart Sullivan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Meaningful insight on a non-artist's life in the Soviet Union

This book reminded me in some ways of Solzhenitzyn's "A Day to n the Life of Ivan Denisovitch" except it is a memoir from the writer's childhood through adulthood. In it he addresses the paradoxes of Soviet living and how everything was controlled by the state. It may be quite eye-opening to GenX or Millennials who are presently enamored with socialism or listening to political voices like Mamdani. I have several personal acquaintances who have emigrated to the West after the collapse of the Soviet Union and their experiences are quite similar. It helps to reflect on the advantages we have in our American society, with the flaws that it has, and consider how much better we live compared to live in the old Soviet Union.
Heartily recommend.

[April Morris · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a memoir of a survivor of the late Soviet Union. I like to read a book about the Soviet era now and then, to remind myself how maddening and contradictory it was, and how easy it is to get there if we don't wake up and prevent it.

Atbashian made beautiful and fascinating art (note to self: get some), and yet was not permitted to buy art supplies because he was not a state-approved artist. The Soviet government and social structure told him, his whole life, that communism was freedom. As he grew up, he found that it instead creates scarcity, encourages incompetence, and breaks the human spirit.