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Monsieur Karenin
Ne aflăm în iarna anului 1947, în Londra devastată de război. Tânăra Albertine Whitelaw, o franțuzoaică sosită de curând aici cu soțul ei englez, răspunde unui anunț văzut întâmplător și se angajează să-i țină companie câteva zile pe săptămână unui bătrân misterios, un nobil imigrant rus dintr-o familie care a inspirat unul dintre cele mai cunoscute romane. Și, în timp ce el își deapănă încet povestea, viața Albertinei e răscolită adânc.
272 pages, Paperback
First published February 1, 2018
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April 6, 2024Osnovna ideja je knjiški zanimljiva i posve neinventivna. Realizacija je ista takva.
Jedno od beskonačnih novih čitanja i tumačenja Ane Karenjine nije rodilo nijednu novu misao. Poklonilo se Tolstojevoj genijalnosti i sposobnosti da oseti psihologiju žene i to tako što je suštinski replikovalo njegovu priču.
Autorka je osetila potrebu da se oglasi i pogovorom da bi nam otkrila da u knjizi postoji lik iz remek dela Crnjanskog. To je zapravo tužno.
Pisanje je nežno, krhko, lepo i suštinski prazno. Hoda po utabanim stazama i živi od odličnog poznavanja tajni spisateljskog zanata.
Nema dodatnu vrednost. Nema umetničku lepotu. Nije autentična. Preskočite je.
Jedno od beskonačnih novih čitanja i tumačenja Ane Karenjine nije rodilo nijednu novu misao. Poklonilo se Tolstojevoj genijalnosti i sposobnosti da oseti psihologiju žene i to tako što je suštinski replikovalo njegovu priču.
Autorka je osetila potrebu da se oglasi i pogovorom da bi nam otkrila da u knjizi postoji lik iz remek dela Crnjanskog. To je zapravo tužno.
Pisanje je nežno, krhko, lepo i suštinski prazno. Hoda po utabanim stazama i živi od odličnog poznavanja tajni spisateljskog zanata.
Nema dodatnu vrednost. Nema umetničku lepotu. Nije autentična. Preskočite je.
January 10, 2020
Recunosc că îl iubesc pe Tolstoi, iar această carte mi-a redat cumva atmosfera romanului Anna Karenina. Un exercițiu de imaginație: cum s-ar fi continuat viața fiului său după moartea ei? Autoarea a avut curajul de a își imagina, iar rezultatul a luat forma acestui roman care mie mi-a plăcut.
"Există mai multe feluri de iubire, dar noi suntem lacomi, le vrem pe toate."
"Există mai multe feluri de iubire, dar noi suntem lacomi, le vrem pe toate."
December 9, 2019
"Monsieur Karenin", o carte interesantă
care ne face sa redescoperim celebrul roman al lui Tolstoi, "Anna Karenina". Romanul este un fel de biografie a fiului Annei Karenina sau, daca vrem, îl putem considera o continuare a poveștii capodoperei lui Tolstoi. Asta pentru ca scriitoarea își imaginează ce s-ar fi întâmplat cu fiul Annei Karenina care, dupa moartea mamei, imigreaza în Anglia, lăsând în urmă Rusia bolșevică.
Va las plăcerea de a savura acest roman plin de o atmosferă autentică.
care ne face sa redescoperim celebrul roman al lui Tolstoi, "Anna Karenina". Romanul este un fel de biografie a fiului Annei Karenina sau, daca vrem, îl putem considera o continuare a poveștii capodoperei lui Tolstoi. Asta pentru ca scriitoarea își imaginează ce s-ar fi întâmplat cu fiul Annei Karenina care, dupa moartea mamei, imigreaza în Anglia, lăsând în urmă Rusia bolșevică.
Va las plăcerea de a savura acest roman plin de o atmosferă autentică.
March 21, 2018
This is an interesting little book, seeking to cover quite an array of themes and stories. And, if I am completely honest, a few too many irons were in this fire for me; at times, I am found myself unsure of the essence of this book - what was it really all about? I have walked away from it a little unsure and a feeling like it’s unfinished.
‘Toska is one of those Russian words,’ Monsieur Carr had said, ‘which have no English equivalents. It means “a dull ache of the soul”.’
Firstly, you have Albertine and her story (along with others in the book) which is most likely the strongest theme, that being, one of displacement and the struggles - not only after a war in her case, but generally the upheaval of leaving. This theme can also be linked to that of her husband and the Russians she encounters throughout. I think the author did a good job of conveying the loneliness and isolation felt, especially considering how frequently Albertine was left alone while her husband traveled throughout postwar Europe.
‘I came to hate her (Anna Karenina) because, when she couldn’t have us both, she wanted that other man, my father’s rival and namesake, more than she wanted me.’
The story I probably enjoyed most was that of Sergei Alexandrovich, whos original surname was Karenin, thus making him the son of Anna from the famous Tolstoy story. The creative inclusion of Anna Karenina's story is truly very clever, helping to interweave the major themes of love and family throughout history - Albertine’s family, her husband Albert’s family and of course, Sergei (Monsieur Ka). I also really appreciated the inclusion of Sergei’s later life - marriage and imprisonment - and the decline of the Old Russian order.
“Prague, Paris, Berlin: they were all full of homeless Russians, once princes and generals, now taxi drivers and doormen in fashionable hotels.”
It was interesting to witness the production of Alexander Korda's film version of the Tolstoy book in which Sergei had a consultation role. Cameo appearances by Vivien Leigh and Laurence Olivier made it seem that much more real - once again, that clever combination of fact and fiction.
“The fictional lives we read about –your Anna, your Emma Bovary here –are so much more authentic than ours, and not just in the sense that they leave a deeper, more permanent mark on the world, while we, so-called real people, vanish without a trace.”
So you can see, there is quite a deal going on here and I think I would have appreciated a more singular focus on one of the above outlined aspects. All up, it’s about the stories we are told, or tell ourselves, but I just feel the delivery could have been a little smoother. That is not to say that the writing suffers - it is clearly evident that Goldsworthy is a serious writer.
‘We harm no one but ourselves by feeling slighted; we carry acid in our soul even when it eats nothing but the vessel it is stored in.’
This review is based on a complimentary copy from the publisher and provided through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. The quoted material may have changed in the final release
‘Toska is one of those Russian words,’ Monsieur Carr had said, ‘which have no English equivalents. It means “a dull ache of the soul”.’
Firstly, you have Albertine and her story (along with others in the book) which is most likely the strongest theme, that being, one of displacement and the struggles - not only after a war in her case, but generally the upheaval of leaving. This theme can also be linked to that of her husband and the Russians she encounters throughout. I think the author did a good job of conveying the loneliness and isolation felt, especially considering how frequently Albertine was left alone while her husband traveled throughout postwar Europe.
‘I came to hate her (Anna Karenina) because, when she couldn’t have us both, she wanted that other man, my father’s rival and namesake, more than she wanted me.’
The story I probably enjoyed most was that of Sergei Alexandrovich, whos original surname was Karenin, thus making him the son of Anna from the famous Tolstoy story. The creative inclusion of Anna Karenina's story is truly very clever, helping to interweave the major themes of love and family throughout history - Albertine’s family, her husband Albert’s family and of course, Sergei (Monsieur Ka). I also really appreciated the inclusion of Sergei’s later life - marriage and imprisonment - and the decline of the Old Russian order.
“Prague, Paris, Berlin: they were all full of homeless Russians, once princes and generals, now taxi drivers and doormen in fashionable hotels.”
It was interesting to witness the production of Alexander Korda's film version of the Tolstoy book in which Sergei had a consultation role. Cameo appearances by Vivien Leigh and Laurence Olivier made it seem that much more real - once again, that clever combination of fact and fiction.
“The fictional lives we read about –your Anna, your Emma Bovary here –are so much more authentic than ours, and not just in the sense that they leave a deeper, more permanent mark on the world, while we, so-called real people, vanish without a trace.”
So you can see, there is quite a deal going on here and I think I would have appreciated a more singular focus on one of the above outlined aspects. All up, it’s about the stories we are told, or tell ourselves, but I just feel the delivery could have been a little smoother. That is not to say that the writing suffers - it is clearly evident that Goldsworthy is a serious writer.
‘We harm no one but ourselves by feeling slighted; we carry acid in our soul even when it eats nothing but the vessel it is stored in.’
This review is based on a complimentary copy from the publisher and provided through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. The quoted material may have changed in the final release
March 28, 2018
The truth of fiction.
The setting is London in 1947. The bitterly cold winter shows no sign of abating. Rationing is still part of everyday life. Gaping holes in the city’s terraces are grim reminders of the Blitz. And the flotsam and jetsam of post-war humanity has washed up in the capital, exiles with war stories about which they remain largely silent.
Narrator Albertine is getting to know her new city. A striking young Frenchwoman, she was brought to London by the British army officer she met and married in Alexandria during the war. Her husband is now doing secret work for the government and often away helping with the reconstruction of Europe. Needing to fill her days, she takes a job as companion to an elderly Russian count. He terms himself Monsieur Carr but in pre-Revolutionary days he was Count Karenin: son of Anna Karenina.
Vesna Goldsworthy is the author of Gorski, a fine novel based on The Great Gatsby. Here, she takes Tolstoy’s classic as her focal point and winds through a tender and eminently human story of love in interesting times. Despite the rather formal nature of the dialogue, Ms Goldsworthy’s writing is beautiful and insightful: “The streets of Paris, Bucharest and Alexandria were like sentences using the same grammar. They huddled inward against encroaching nature, whereas London opened up to it, allowed it to invade.”
As the two fictional stories meet and merge, I frequently found myself – quite inexplicably - on the edge of tears. There is something fundamentally touching about the way this book is written, stitched through, as it is, with an underlying note of regret in its every word.
The setting is London in 1947. The bitterly cold winter shows no sign of abating. Rationing is still part of everyday life. Gaping holes in the city’s terraces are grim reminders of the Blitz. And the flotsam and jetsam of post-war humanity has washed up in the capital, exiles with war stories about which they remain largely silent.
Narrator Albertine is getting to know her new city. A striking young Frenchwoman, she was brought to London by the British army officer she met and married in Alexandria during the war. Her husband is now doing secret work for the government and often away helping with the reconstruction of Europe. Needing to fill her days, she takes a job as companion to an elderly Russian count. He terms himself Monsieur Carr but in pre-Revolutionary days he was Count Karenin: son of Anna Karenina.
Vesna Goldsworthy is the author of Gorski, a fine novel based on The Great Gatsby. Here, she takes Tolstoy’s classic as her focal point and winds through a tender and eminently human story of love in interesting times. Despite the rather formal nature of the dialogue, Ms Goldsworthy’s writing is beautiful and insightful: “The streets of Paris, Bucharest and Alexandria were like sentences using the same grammar. They huddled inward against encroaching nature, whereas London opened up to it, allowed it to invade.”
As the two fictional stories meet and merge, I frequently found myself – quite inexplicably - on the edge of tears. There is something fundamentally touching about the way this book is written, stitched through, as it is, with an underlying note of regret in its every word.
February 22, 2018
Goldsworthy’s Gorski adapted The Great Gatsby to a contemporary London setting amongst rich Russians; this book looks as if it’s going to do something similar with Anna Karenina but... doesn’t. It’s hard to quite put a finger on what’s happening here which makes this a perplexing and not wholly satisfying read.
The narrator is a young Jewish woman newly married to an English officer and while he is taken up with his mysterious government job which takes him travelling to Europe, especially a Germany under reconstruction, she becomes involved with a family of Russian emigrés.
And this is where it gets weird because Monsieur Carr (the M. Ka of the title), is Sergei Karenin, the son of Anna Karenina, whose story had been adopted by Tolstoy, and which is being filmed by Alexander Korda in London, with Karenin as a consultant... This dizzying mix of fact and fiction is complicated with further literary references: our narrator is Albertine (think Proust, though she initially plays the role of Tolstoy’s young, married Kitty Levin), there’s also a Tonya (Doctor Zhivago), and someone unexpectedly recreates Anna’s fate...
More pointedly, amidst the literary games, there’s a portrait of a cosmopolitan London filled with refugees, immigrants, and characters with complicated national and racial backgrounds – far more sophisticated and realistic than the mythical ‘Englishness’ that has become such a dangerously potent and divisive figure of rhetoric in today’s politics.
A strange little tale, then, and one that left me bemused: all the literary game-playing feels like it should have some point, but I can’t see what it is.
The narrator is a young Jewish woman newly married to an English officer and while he is taken up with his mysterious government job which takes him travelling to Europe, especially a Germany under reconstruction, she becomes involved with a family of Russian emigrés.
And this is where it gets weird because Monsieur Carr (the M. Ka of the title), is Sergei Karenin, the son of Anna Karenina, whose story had been adopted by Tolstoy, and which is being filmed by Alexander Korda in London, with Karenin as a consultant... This dizzying mix of fact and fiction is complicated with further literary references: our narrator is Albertine (think Proust, though she initially plays the role of Tolstoy’s young, married Kitty Levin), there’s also a Tonya (Doctor Zhivago), and someone unexpectedly recreates Anna’s fate...
More pointedly, amidst the literary games, there’s a portrait of a cosmopolitan London filled with refugees, immigrants, and characters with complicated national and racial backgrounds – far more sophisticated and realistic than the mythical ‘Englishness’ that has become such a dangerously potent and divisive figure of rhetoric in today’s politics.
A strange little tale, then, and one that left me bemused: all the literary game-playing feels like it should have some point, but I can’t see what it is.
February 14, 2021
O carte 'dragalasa". Ceva i-a lipsit, nu stiu ce. Mi-a placut suficient de mult ca sa nu o abandonez, dar nu atat de mult incat sa o pun la carti favorite.
April 2, 2022
Starts well,crashes soon.
March 12, 2023
Quiet, haunting and beautifully written.
August 11, 2019
Scrisă pe fundalul unei perioade tulburătoare din istoria noastră recentă, adică sfârșitul celui de-al Doilea Război Mondial, "Monsieur Karenin" reconstituie povestea unor supraviețuitori, vechea familie Karenin din Rusia imperială, pe care războaiele și lupta continuă pentru viață au adus-o în „inima unui imperiu în care se spune că soarele nu apune niciodată”: Londra. Au ales Anglia știind că vor fi nevoiți să se desprindă de religia și cultura lor slavă, luând-o de la capăt într-o lume străină și reticentă, care nu le va cunoaște limba „cu sunet de ninsoare” și nici nu le va înțelege trecutul princiar. Printre frânturi din istoria Rusiei, dramele provocate de război, nedreptățile comise împotriva evreilor, viețile distruse de regimuri bolnave, veți găsi o pagină emoționantă din lupta cotidiană a unor oameni pentru supraviețuire, una care depășește torturile confruntărilor armate, încercând să dezvăluie, totuși, dincolo de rău și de durere, puterea vindecătoare a iubirii...
November 16, 2019
Încă de când am citit pentru prima dată Anna Karenina, o carte care m-a marcat profund, m-am întrebat ce s-a întâmplat oare cu fiul acesteia, Serghei, rămas orfan la vârsta de doar nouă ani, cu umbra scandalului în care au fost implicați părinții săi plutind asupra lui.â
Astfel, am fost entuziasmată aflând că a apărut cartea „Monsieur Karenin” scrisă de Vesna Goldsworthy și am fost foarte curioasă să descopăr viziunea autoarei despre destinul lui Serghei.
Am fost încântată de stilul autoarei, de atenția la detalii, de modul magistral în care aceasta reușește să creeze atmosferă, precum și de îmbinarea ingenioasă a datelor fictive și non-fictive. Caracterele personajelor sunt bine conturate, iar peisajele sunt foarte bine descrise, efectiv te simți transportat într-un ținut încremenit și rece, în care până și speranța pare să fi înghețat într-o stare de așteptare.
Recenzia mea:
https://www.delicateseliterare.ro/mon...
Astfel, am fost entuziasmată aflând că a apărut cartea „Monsieur Karenin” scrisă de Vesna Goldsworthy și am fost foarte curioasă să descopăr viziunea autoarei despre destinul lui Serghei.
Am fost încântată de stilul autoarei, de atenția la detalii, de modul magistral în care aceasta reușește să creeze atmosferă, precum și de îmbinarea ingenioasă a datelor fictive și non-fictive. Caracterele personajelor sunt bine conturate, iar peisajele sunt foarte bine descrise, efectiv te simți transportat într-un ținut încremenit și rece, în care până și speranța pare să fi înghețat într-o stare de așteptare.
Recenzia mea:
https://www.delicateseliterare.ro/mon...
May 4, 2018
As a languages student who's recently been studying Anna Karenina, the premise of this book was irresistible to me. I think Goldsworthy and I read AK slightly differently - but that's inevitable, and I very much enjoyed discovering her take on it.
My only real gripe is the focus on Anna's story... I think I see what Goldsworthy was up to in her approach to Levin, but even so, I can't help thinking she only meaningfully engaged with about 50% of Tolstoy's original. To be fair, AK is a very long novel and Monsieur Ka is not - and that's probably not a bad thing - but I did come away feeling like I missed Levin and Kitty (and all the rest).
Oh, and I wasn't completely sure that it was the right choice to go meta and have the story take place in the real world, with references to the real Tolstoy and the film adaptation. It seemed over-complicated, when the bones of the story - a young woman encountering Anna's descendants and learning about her life - would have been effective without it. Plus, it created a logical problem re: Levin, which was not explained. If Anna Karenina was based on the real-life Anna Hartung, then how to justify the existence of a real-world Levin, since he is generally agreed (we forgive you Lev) to be based on the author himself?
But I'm probably being too pedantic here - the main point is, I liked it as a novel in its own right. I especially enjoyed the evocation of post-war London, and the observations about learning and living in a foreign language. The characters were also crafted with real warmth, which helped draw me into the story.
Worth a read for Tolstoy fans!
My only real gripe is the focus on Anna's story... I think I see what Goldsworthy was up to in her approach to Levin, but even so, I can't help thinking she only meaningfully engaged with about 50% of Tolstoy's original. To be fair, AK is a very long novel and Monsieur Ka is not - and that's probably not a bad thing - but I did come away feeling like I missed Levin and Kitty (and all the rest).
Oh, and I wasn't completely sure that it was the right choice to go meta and have the story take place in the real world, with references to the real Tolstoy and the film adaptation. It seemed over-complicated, when the bones of the story - a young woman encountering Anna's descendants and learning about her life - would have been effective without it. Plus, it created a logical problem re: Levin, which was not explained. If Anna Karenina was based on the real-life Anna Hartung, then how to justify the existence of a real-world Levin, since he is generally agreed (we forgive you Lev) to be based on the author himself?
But I'm probably being too pedantic here - the main point is, I liked it as a novel in its own right. I especially enjoyed the evocation of post-war London, and the observations about learning and living in a foreign language. The characters were also crafted with real warmth, which helped draw me into the story.
Worth a read for Tolstoy fans!
January 12, 2020
A fost o carte lină , ca un râu calm, nici prea rapid că să ne ia cu valuri dar suficient de tumultuos că sa tulbure ceva din interiorul nostru și cu siguranță destul de adânc că să ascundă în el durere.
Probabil multi dintre noi se întreabă ce se întâmplă cu personajele unei cărți după ce noi am închis ultima pagină, autoarea acestui roman a avut curajul să-și imagineze un viitor pentru fiul Annei, cea mai discutată femeie a secolului trecut (poate și a celor viitoare) . Nu a pretins sa copieze sau să ajungă cumva geniul lui Tolstoi: "Povestea lui Tolstoi spune totul. E că una dintre acele reconstrucții de case făcute pentru marile muzee: mai grăitoare și desăvârșite decât noi." Cred, totuși că și-a atins scopul de a realiza o incursiune într-un destin condamnat la întrebări veșnice. Cine a fost Seghei Karenin, ce a ajuns să fie după moartea mamei lui și ce amprentă a lăsat ea asupra lui? Romanul acesta va răspunde la aceste întrebări și va completa cu lungi meditații ale naratoarei- o supraviețuitoare a celui de-al doilea război mondial. Să nu vă așteptați la prea mult mister și intrigă in această poveste deși rândurile curg lin și te îndeamnă să vrei o continuare a ei. Un pic de piper spre final și un sfârșit tolstoian, care va închide un cerc al unor destine împletite straniu și frumos ca într-o matrioșca rusească.
" Știm prea multe despre războaiele bărbaților, dar războaiele femeilor, dragă Albertine, războaiele femeilor sunt cele care ne condamnă pe toți la iad. Nu vrem să știm cum suferă femeile, deoarece ne dăm seama că nu ne putem îndeplini datoria de a le ocroti."
Probabil multi dintre noi se întreabă ce se întâmplă cu personajele unei cărți după ce noi am închis ultima pagină, autoarea acestui roman a avut curajul să-și imagineze un viitor pentru fiul Annei, cea mai discutată femeie a secolului trecut (poate și a celor viitoare) . Nu a pretins sa copieze sau să ajungă cumva geniul lui Tolstoi: "Povestea lui Tolstoi spune totul. E că una dintre acele reconstrucții de case făcute pentru marile muzee: mai grăitoare și desăvârșite decât noi." Cred, totuși că și-a atins scopul de a realiza o incursiune într-un destin condamnat la întrebări veșnice. Cine a fost Seghei Karenin, ce a ajuns să fie după moartea mamei lui și ce amprentă a lăsat ea asupra lui? Romanul acesta va răspunde la aceste întrebări și va completa cu lungi meditații ale naratoarei- o supraviețuitoare a celui de-al doilea război mondial. Să nu vă așteptați la prea mult mister și intrigă in această poveste deși rândurile curg lin și te îndeamnă să vrei o continuare a ei. Un pic de piper spre final și un sfârșit tolstoian, care va închide un cerc al unor destine împletite straniu și frumos ca într-o matrioșca rusească.
" Știm prea multe despre războaiele bărbaților, dar războaiele femeilor, dragă Albertine, războaiele femeilor sunt cele care ne condamnă pe toți la iad. Nu vrem să știm cum suferă femeile, deoarece ne dăm seama că nu ne putem îndeplini datoria de a le ocroti."
March 25, 2018
I had read two of the recent retelling of Shakespeare by famous authors and found them sterile and devoid of that necessary spark of original creativity and energy. But I had loved Goldsworthy’s previous novel Gorsky, a retelling of The Great Gatsby transplanted to Russia and London, and leapt on Monsieur Ka when it came out. But what a huge disappointment it was. This time Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina was the vehicle, and the immigrant Carr family the real life inspiration for Tolstoy’s story. In essence this was a book about Russian history, tediously told by one person to another. It lacked a compelling narrative drive, and the plot and characters were wooden. On the basis of Gorsky I am however keen to see what Goldsworthy comes up with next.
September 12, 2019
I was worried for a while that this sad, melancholy book was becoming too sad and melancholy at times...that it was slowing down and losing itself in its own bleakness. But the novel only hints at crossing that line, and it manages to be a very Russian novel and a very English novel simultaneously. The melancholy becomes a gorgeous blanket in which one wraps up, snuggling into the words and emotions that are only just retrained by sheer force of will. A very unexpected yet seductive read.
December 17, 2019
O poveste drăguță, în care autoarea și-a imaginat ce s-a întâmplat cu familia Karenin după sinuciderea Annei, în special povestea fiului acesteia. Pe mine personal m-a bulversat puțin spre final și am rămas puțin nelămurita, dar povestea este interesanta în felul ei.
April 12, 2020
“ Le mieux est l’ennemi du bien.”
February 29, 2024
Očekivala sam maalo dinamičniju radnju i malo više drame s obzirom da su u pitanju Karenjini ali ok..
December 16, 2023
Back in the 60’s, I was enrolled in Soc &Phil. That first year honours program at university opted me out of taking a science class; so I was advised by another non science type who preceded me. I could investigate all the “ologies” such as philosophy, sociology, psychology: every thing university was supposed to offer to a neophyte such as myself without the burden of a science class. I could, however, continue to read and study literature, my actual fav, but an unlikely subject for a profession. I don’t recall this being explicitly stated, but implicitly conveyed .
My initial choice that first year was a survey course of American books, which, I later discovered meant reading a major tome every single week by Melville, Hawthorne, Hemingway, Emerson, Twain…. The instructor was a grad student, patient with us newbies, even the tall gawky Catholic boy who in that first class queried, “I don’t understand, sir. “ “What don’t you understand? ,” responded our teacher who would eventually become a professor of said subject, “What’s a phallic symbol?”
We, most of us, bubbly virgins ourselves, were engulfed in choked back laughter at his innocent guffaw. We being so much more sophisticated! In any case, we were deluged with great books written by Americans: Brits,Russian, French, Slavs, all excluded. And in spite of always having my nose in a book, I somehow did not read Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, to my great shame. I was, however, well aware of the plot lines, Anna’s infidelity, overriding themes of betrayal, suicide, in the real ambiance of Dr. Zhivago heavy edifices, and veils of thickly falling snow.
Fast forward so many years and the reading of Monsieur Ka by Vesna Goldsworthy in which Anna Karenina is the trigger for the novel. Our narrator, Albertine, not a Russian herself, is a refugee from Bucharest, Paris, Egypt during post wartime presently living in London in 1947 with her British colonel husband, Albert. Although they met during his convalescence in a hospital in Alexandria , he continues his undercover wartime work in the field, often away, in Berlin or other European countries. Albertine worries he has a mistress. To forestay loneliness, our protagonist notices an ad and becomes involved with reading for an older gentleman, recovering from a stroke. He is Russian.
Immediately, she discovers he is the son of Anna Karenina, a Russian prince no less , once a curator of ancient manuscripts in St.Petersburg , displaced from his home, country and mother’s tarnished reputation. Through their growing friendship, Albertine becomes aware of the stories of his family’s fall, their displacement and descent into poverty, his abiding love for his mother, his own marriage and residence in London. Her first assignment is to read Madame Bovary aloud, a suggestive beginning for her visits. Albertine becomes so consumed by Monsieur Carr’s reminisces that she decides she will ghostwrite his memoirs, even learning Russian to better communicate his story from the details he offers,
“I had such a lonely, uncomprehending childhood…in that bleak house …a mausoleum where we prayed for her(Anna’s) sinning soul four, five times a day, with a procession of priests and monks who hovered over Father like vultures around a particularly juicy carcass…”
He brings her deeper into his fascinating narratives by disclosing he had unlocked a box in his father’s study to come upon a sliver of red leather, he explained, “ She (Anna) was at the railway station. All the railway stations were new then. She carried a red bag. She threw it aside before she jumped…Empedocles took his sandals off before he jumped into the volcano, left them by the crater, like someone taking a swim in the municipal pool. My mother’s dive must have been different. I imagine it as a plunge taken by someone escaping a house fire in a panic, finally getting away.” Albertine is mesmerized, consumed by the family’s lore and Anna’s story.
Eventually Sergei, Monsieur Carr/Ka admits to Albertine, “ I told no lies, certainly no lies, but I left so much ugliness out, and I don’t mean just the ugliness that followed my mother’s death. That was nothing compared to this century of ours…” He moves between present and past, drawing her in.
All ready romanticized, the narrative of czars, Romanoffs, Rasputin so fascinates that even filmmaker Alexander Korda, founder of British Lion Films, is transforming it into a film. Charmed by the older gentleman and becoming closer to Monsieur Carr’s son, also named Alex, Albertine becomes even more deeply involved in the family, perhaps because her own husband, Albert, is often away, inaccessible for he is constantly surrounded by his former comrades in arms or she intuits a distance between herself and her spouse. Confiding to the son, Alex, she explains that she is pleased with her gift of a manuscript to his father, reflecting “ I think I am almost done. And I believe I have succeeded in catching the charm of your father’s voice..It feels almost, as you read it, as if he had written it himself…”
Her teacher of Russian is, as well, a displaced countess, once beautiful, disapproving of Jews, but allowing instead for Albertine Frenchness. Elizabetha Maximilianovn is very glad to regale Albertine with her own romantic and pragmatic tales of Russia, literature, their authors, tea, trysts. In Elizabetha’s cosy subterranean apartment cramped with a glass cylinder of soil, silver caskets, irons and nicknacks, Albertine’s perspective is increasingly narrowed as she deciphers the Cyrillic alphabet. She observes, “ the basement window looked – through the grilles…a procession of trousered and stockinged legs, of headless children and pram wheels, and just occasionally, a whole dog, a daschund or a spaniel, looking in, straight at the two of us.” She is a sudden voyeur glimpsed from her shared hiding spot below the surface.
Albertine adds that one of the cats jumped off Elizabetha Maximilianova’s lap ( ( swathed in shawls), the other burrowed a sleepyhead deeper under the balloon, a cloud of hairs flew into the air,” . The metaphor suggests the closeness and incomplete pieces of a refugee’s life that Albertine’s is experiencing in this overstuffed and stifling atmosphere. And through a mist of cloying hairs like tiny snowflakes , Albertine is being enchanted, to unlock a new language, a difficult and confusing one, picking up phrases, bits of an experience that have focused her attention away from her own marital life.
What is most wonderful is Goldsworthy’s language.To subtly foreshadow themes of Anna Karenina and her fateful end, Goldsworthy inserts this line as Anna, a talented seamstress is lulled by her work of “ her [s]ewingmachine [ that] sounds like a train, the needle piercing the fabric and the beat of the cast iron base- not unlike the sound of a railway engine.”
Never intrusive or drawing attention to itself, Goldsworthy frames her story through the telling by Albertine and Alexei/ Monsieur Carr- not only of Russia but also of London of the day. From ripping up floorboards in the houses of aristocrats by squatting vagrants to warm their toes in St.Petersburg to gliding over glistening ice to avoid dangerous falls in London to garden parties there, a Russian Orthodox Easter one that features careful tables of food, “ blinis and savories of…painted eggs, bowls of salt, pickles, salad and red and white radishes and even a tiny bit of Russian caviar from Paris. Albertine comments” in the face of austerity and rationing..there was nothing extravagant about the feast.”
We wonder at Albertine’s naïveté, being taken in and overwhelmed in these situations, especially as Albert does not accompany her and we have only her thoughts in her first person narration alone to view the surviving Kareninas. When Albert does agree to accompany her to an event, he notices the son, Alex’s, attraction to her, but outwardly-focused on the fantasy of the family, Albertine is totally unaware of his eyes on her.
Through Alexei’s/ MonsieurCarr’s accounts of his life, we learn that London itself did offer a safe haven for refuges. The relief and security for these Russias is expressed by Monsieur as he states, “ Isn’t it beautiful here…Have you noticed that chameleon quality in London, how it turns itself into any European city you’ld like it to be.Suddenly you’re in Rome, or in Paris, or in Vienna, or God forbid, even in Berlin. Suddenly you are at home… We could be back in Russia…the world around us was still, wrapped in snowy silence”.
Albertine enhances this magically transformed world where [s]nowdrifts were ten feet high in places, milky and yellow at the peaks where sun touched them, bluish and solid like icebergs at the foothills.” Again, nostalgia, confinement, enclosement and images of safety separate the deposed arrivees and their narrator by physically dislocating them from reality- at least in their own minds.
With an emphasis on words, meaning, we ,the reader, understand stories translated by Albertine are often like the front and backside of a tapestry, the crafter’s talent observed, tight knots, loose ends, patches, spliced endings and beginnings: romanticized histories and stories.
The Russians, especially, are not truly afforded the process of acculturation into a new world. In fact, in spite of Alexei’s tales he is decanting to Albertine, we learn of Tonya( , Monsieur’s Ka ‘s wife, and Monsieur Carr, also known as Sergei) dependence on charity in London, crying themselves asleep in their host’s Hannah Wilson’s English house. So, although the wintry backdrop might suggest a storybook setting, the Russians are real people with issues of readjustment from one world to another, even though London promises safety. The son, Alex’s eventual ownership of an English brewery suggests a far cry from soirées, military bravado on the battlefield or even libraries from his father’s world. He is as well awkward in speech and appearance, juxtaposing his wife, Diana’s, stunning beauty.
In contrast to the safe haven being established by the Kareninas themselves , the actual born British husband Albie, ironically exclaims , “How I love London, to me it is synonymous with freedom”, yet he is constantly leaving, searching for a place to call home: as opposed to the Russian émigrés who acknowledge that “they were offered lives of comfort and support for those who survived the war, lives destined to get better and more plentiful; English lives” . The Kareninas underline, “We Russians had always loved England much more than England loved us.” Perhaps the same might be said for Albie as well.
Anna Karenina is subtlety featured, her presence echoed in the storyline, not just as a beloved mother, or an unhappy deceptive woman, but alluded to through metaphors, as noted above. So too, we view relationships that are complicated, as in Anna’s in and out of marriage evoked in the story related by Monsieur Ka and his meetings with Albertine. We understand that Albert and Albertine are in love, their conversations and actions for the most part, loving , demonstrating thoughtful concern, but yet there is a feeling, a frisson, a je ne sais quoi of something: a hint of secrecy, of keeping the other safe by guarding secrets, and keeping the reader beyond absolute knowledge of their relationship. Albertine and Albert possess an awareness of this: keeping quiet and not revealing all. Early in the novel when Albert speaks of new postings in the Far East, China or Russia the newly wed Albertine implores Albie,” Anyway, promise not to leave me alone here.” He does just that and later, she is unable to reveal her secret to him.
Even glimpses of Monsieur Carr’s son Alex and his wife Diana appear perfect from afar. And the presence of Vivian Leigh and Lawrence Olivier, actors and lovers who will portray Anna’s story in Korda’s film are distanced, seen as beautiful, idealized across a green lawn, but flawed ,almost standing in as cutouts for the great Russian romance whose love will not endure. Both actors, too, had abandoned their spouses and children to be together. They have been immortalized, distanced and glorified in photos by Cecil Beaton, larger than life, portraying examples of love and loss.
Against the much touted actors, their flamboyant clothes, and described as outlined against “ the red glow of the setting sun[ that] illuminated the lawn” , Albertine herself is constantly described as a prettier Leigh, occasionally but momentarily mistaken for the film star. But Alex’s wife weighs in on their“ physical similarity, on which everyone had commented, [ but] did not seem to register with her.” In contrast to the stories of film stars and Russian princes’, Albertine’s story is ordinary, often repeated, a fleeing Jew during wartime, a hospital administrator who marries a handsome military man. Happy, not happy, we are not certain.
Describing her wedding, Albertine does romanticize her plebeian outset , saying, “ Mine was a wartime , civil ceremony…a blue wedding, not a white one. I wore a cobalt blue suit and the Mediterranean obliged with the backdrop: a cloudless sky, the sea.” Small juxtaposed to a larger, more dramatic setting. This is of course wartime as she later adds with the realism of the day, “There was a young man with a wooden leg next to me, protruding out of his unseasonably heavy winter coat, a field- grey coat with strange buttons.” And to further remind the reader of the surrounding scenes of deprivation and destruction, she adds that when Monsieur Carr is in hospital with broken ribs, he shares a room with Polish men, one with a bandaged head, the other with” a leg in plaster, suspended by a pulley”,remnants of a society that has been punished by war and its aftermath. For even in a tale of romance, it needs to be grounded in facts, suffering that contrasts and heightening the fantasy of love.
There are secrets and secret languages and codes, and more words unsaid. When Albertine meets up with Alex, son of Sergei, at a small coffee shop by a railway station recalling Anna and Vronsky’s final meeting, she records the place smells of ordinary garlic, butter and tarragon, a décor of smoky posters advertising events from the 1930’s where Albertine imagines another ghost, the green eyed one of Diana, Alex’s English wife, occupying a chair. But Albertine surmises and again naively rationalizes, “ We were not going to have a secret language…and I, I thought as I walked across the grimy linoleum. There were no secret languages in London, anymore. It did not matter; what would we need a secret language for.” Yet her retelling this tale is one of omissions, secrets, misunderstandings, betrayals and surprises, much like Monsieur Carr’s. Her own mystery embellishes, and involves itself in Monsieur Ka’s own history as she becomes a kind of extended family figure.
Yet, Albertine’s presence, her meetings with son Alex trigger the reader to suspect some idle chatter, nonchalant kisses or even the sudden rendezvous at a café could evolve into something more, for she had initiated the meeting decided in order to share a perplexing dream in which he was the main figure. Albertine allows herself to be trapped by her fantasies. It is fitting that the book ends at a party celebrating Korda’s film attended by Olivier and Leigh, the elision of film and reality in a background established by a Russian princess, Anna Karenina.
Previously asked if she was happy in London, Albertine had explained that she felt disoriented in England, once more reinforcing the underlying thoughts in Tolstoys opening line of Anna Karenina, “All happy families resemble one another, each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way”. The reader is left to probe Albertine in her final scene, wondering about her fate that has entwined her in Goldsworthy’s reimagining the lives and loves of the iconic family.
My initial choice that first year was a survey course of American books, which, I later discovered meant reading a major tome every single week by Melville, Hawthorne, Hemingway, Emerson, Twain…. The instructor was a grad student, patient with us newbies, even the tall gawky Catholic boy who in that first class queried, “I don’t understand, sir. “ “What don’t you understand? ,” responded our teacher who would eventually become a professor of said subject, “What’s a phallic symbol?”
We, most of us, bubbly virgins ourselves, were engulfed in choked back laughter at his innocent guffaw. We being so much more sophisticated! In any case, we were deluged with great books written by Americans: Brits,Russian, French, Slavs, all excluded. And in spite of always having my nose in a book, I somehow did not read Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, to my great shame. I was, however, well aware of the plot lines, Anna’s infidelity, overriding themes of betrayal, suicide, in the real ambiance of Dr. Zhivago heavy edifices, and veils of thickly falling snow.
Fast forward so many years and the reading of Monsieur Ka by Vesna Goldsworthy in which Anna Karenina is the trigger for the novel. Our narrator, Albertine, not a Russian herself, is a refugee from Bucharest, Paris, Egypt during post wartime presently living in London in 1947 with her British colonel husband, Albert. Although they met during his convalescence in a hospital in Alexandria , he continues his undercover wartime work in the field, often away, in Berlin or other European countries. Albertine worries he has a mistress. To forestay loneliness, our protagonist notices an ad and becomes involved with reading for an older gentleman, recovering from a stroke. He is Russian.
Immediately, she discovers he is the son of Anna Karenina, a Russian prince no less , once a curator of ancient manuscripts in St.Petersburg , displaced from his home, country and mother’s tarnished reputation. Through their growing friendship, Albertine becomes aware of the stories of his family’s fall, their displacement and descent into poverty, his abiding love for his mother, his own marriage and residence in London. Her first assignment is to read Madame Bovary aloud, a suggestive beginning for her visits. Albertine becomes so consumed by Monsieur Carr’s reminisces that she decides she will ghostwrite his memoirs, even learning Russian to better communicate his story from the details he offers,
“I had such a lonely, uncomprehending childhood…in that bleak house …a mausoleum where we prayed for her(Anna’s) sinning soul four, five times a day, with a procession of priests and monks who hovered over Father like vultures around a particularly juicy carcass…”
He brings her deeper into his fascinating narratives by disclosing he had unlocked a box in his father’s study to come upon a sliver of red leather, he explained, “ She (Anna) was at the railway station. All the railway stations were new then. She carried a red bag. She threw it aside before she jumped…Empedocles took his sandals off before he jumped into the volcano, left them by the crater, like someone taking a swim in the municipal pool. My mother’s dive must have been different. I imagine it as a plunge taken by someone escaping a house fire in a panic, finally getting away.” Albertine is mesmerized, consumed by the family’s lore and Anna’s story.
Eventually Sergei, Monsieur Carr/Ka admits to Albertine, “ I told no lies, certainly no lies, but I left so much ugliness out, and I don’t mean just the ugliness that followed my mother’s death. That was nothing compared to this century of ours…” He moves between present and past, drawing her in.
All ready romanticized, the narrative of czars, Romanoffs, Rasputin so fascinates that even filmmaker Alexander Korda, founder of British Lion Films, is transforming it into a film. Charmed by the older gentleman and becoming closer to Monsieur Carr’s son, also named Alex, Albertine becomes even more deeply involved in the family, perhaps because her own husband, Albert, is often away, inaccessible for he is constantly surrounded by his former comrades in arms or she intuits a distance between herself and her spouse. Confiding to the son, Alex, she explains that she is pleased with her gift of a manuscript to his father, reflecting “ I think I am almost done. And I believe I have succeeded in catching the charm of your father’s voice..It feels almost, as you read it, as if he had written it himself…”
Her teacher of Russian is, as well, a displaced countess, once beautiful, disapproving of Jews, but allowing instead for Albertine Frenchness. Elizabetha Maximilianovn is very glad to regale Albertine with her own romantic and pragmatic tales of Russia, literature, their authors, tea, trysts. In Elizabetha’s cosy subterranean apartment cramped with a glass cylinder of soil, silver caskets, irons and nicknacks, Albertine’s perspective is increasingly narrowed as she deciphers the Cyrillic alphabet. She observes, “ the basement window looked – through the grilles…a procession of trousered and stockinged legs, of headless children and pram wheels, and just occasionally, a whole dog, a daschund or a spaniel, looking in, straight at the two of us.” She is a sudden voyeur glimpsed from her shared hiding spot below the surface.
Albertine adds that one of the cats jumped off Elizabetha Maximilianova’s lap ( ( swathed in shawls), the other burrowed a sleepyhead deeper under the balloon, a cloud of hairs flew into the air,” . The metaphor suggests the closeness and incomplete pieces of a refugee’s life that Albertine’s is experiencing in this overstuffed and stifling atmosphere. And through a mist of cloying hairs like tiny snowflakes , Albertine is being enchanted, to unlock a new language, a difficult and confusing one, picking up phrases, bits of an experience that have focused her attention away from her own marital life.
What is most wonderful is Goldsworthy’s language.To subtly foreshadow themes of Anna Karenina and her fateful end, Goldsworthy inserts this line as Anna, a talented seamstress is lulled by her work of “ her [s]ewingmachine [ that] sounds like a train, the needle piercing the fabric and the beat of the cast iron base- not unlike the sound of a railway engine.”
Never intrusive or drawing attention to itself, Goldsworthy frames her story through the telling by Albertine and Alexei/ Monsieur Carr- not only of Russia but also of London of the day. From ripping up floorboards in the houses of aristocrats by squatting vagrants to warm their toes in St.Petersburg to gliding over glistening ice to avoid dangerous falls in London to garden parties there, a Russian Orthodox Easter one that features careful tables of food, “ blinis and savories of…painted eggs, bowls of salt, pickles, salad and red and white radishes and even a tiny bit of Russian caviar from Paris. Albertine comments” in the face of austerity and rationing..there was nothing extravagant about the feast.”
We wonder at Albertine’s naïveté, being taken in and overwhelmed in these situations, especially as Albert does not accompany her and we have only her thoughts in her first person narration alone to view the surviving Kareninas. When Albert does agree to accompany her to an event, he notices the son, Alex’s, attraction to her, but outwardly-focused on the fantasy of the family, Albertine is totally unaware of his eyes on her.
Through Alexei’s/ MonsieurCarr’s accounts of his life, we learn that London itself did offer a safe haven for refuges. The relief and security for these Russias is expressed by Monsieur as he states, “ Isn’t it beautiful here…Have you noticed that chameleon quality in London, how it turns itself into any European city you’ld like it to be.Suddenly you’re in Rome, or in Paris, or in Vienna, or God forbid, even in Berlin. Suddenly you are at home… We could be back in Russia…the world around us was still, wrapped in snowy silence”.
Albertine enhances this magically transformed world where [s]nowdrifts were ten feet high in places, milky and yellow at the peaks where sun touched them, bluish and solid like icebergs at the foothills.” Again, nostalgia, confinement, enclosement and images of safety separate the deposed arrivees and their narrator by physically dislocating them from reality- at least in their own minds.
With an emphasis on words, meaning, we ,the reader, understand stories translated by Albertine are often like the front and backside of a tapestry, the crafter’s talent observed, tight knots, loose ends, patches, spliced endings and beginnings: romanticized histories and stories.
The Russians, especially, are not truly afforded the process of acculturation into a new world. In fact, in spite of Alexei’s tales he is decanting to Albertine, we learn of Tonya( , Monsieur’s Ka ‘s wife, and Monsieur Carr, also known as Sergei) dependence on charity in London, crying themselves asleep in their host’s Hannah Wilson’s English house. So, although the wintry backdrop might suggest a storybook setting, the Russians are real people with issues of readjustment from one world to another, even though London promises safety. The son, Alex’s eventual ownership of an English brewery suggests a far cry from soirées, military bravado on the battlefield or even libraries from his father’s world. He is as well awkward in speech and appearance, juxtaposing his wife, Diana’s, stunning beauty.
In contrast to the safe haven being established by the Kareninas themselves , the actual born British husband Albie, ironically exclaims , “How I love London, to me it is synonymous with freedom”, yet he is constantly leaving, searching for a place to call home: as opposed to the Russian émigrés who acknowledge that “they were offered lives of comfort and support for those who survived the war, lives destined to get better and more plentiful; English lives” . The Kareninas underline, “We Russians had always loved England much more than England loved us.” Perhaps the same might be said for Albie as well.
Anna Karenina is subtlety featured, her presence echoed in the storyline, not just as a beloved mother, or an unhappy deceptive woman, but alluded to through metaphors, as noted above. So too, we view relationships that are complicated, as in Anna’s in and out of marriage evoked in the story related by Monsieur Ka and his meetings with Albertine. We understand that Albert and Albertine are in love, their conversations and actions for the most part, loving , demonstrating thoughtful concern, but yet there is a feeling, a frisson, a je ne sais quoi of something: a hint of secrecy, of keeping the other safe by guarding secrets, and keeping the reader beyond absolute knowledge of their relationship. Albertine and Albert possess an awareness of this: keeping quiet and not revealing all. Early in the novel when Albert speaks of new postings in the Far East, China or Russia the newly wed Albertine implores Albie,” Anyway, promise not to leave me alone here.” He does just that and later, she is unable to reveal her secret to him.
Even glimpses of Monsieur Carr’s son Alex and his wife Diana appear perfect from afar. And the presence of Vivian Leigh and Lawrence Olivier, actors and lovers who will portray Anna’s story in Korda’s film are distanced, seen as beautiful, idealized across a green lawn, but flawed ,almost standing in as cutouts for the great Russian romance whose love will not endure. Both actors, too, had abandoned their spouses and children to be together. They have been immortalized, distanced and glorified in photos by Cecil Beaton, larger than life, portraying examples of love and loss.
Against the much touted actors, their flamboyant clothes, and described as outlined against “ the red glow of the setting sun[ that] illuminated the lawn” , Albertine herself is constantly described as a prettier Leigh, occasionally but momentarily mistaken for the film star. But Alex’s wife weighs in on their“ physical similarity, on which everyone had commented, [ but] did not seem to register with her.” In contrast to the stories of film stars and Russian princes’, Albertine’s story is ordinary, often repeated, a fleeing Jew during wartime, a hospital administrator who marries a handsome military man. Happy, not happy, we are not certain.
Describing her wedding, Albertine does romanticize her plebeian outset , saying, “ Mine was a wartime , civil ceremony…a blue wedding, not a white one. I wore a cobalt blue suit and the Mediterranean obliged with the backdrop: a cloudless sky, the sea.” Small juxtaposed to a larger, more dramatic setting. This is of course wartime as she later adds with the realism of the day, “There was a young man with a wooden leg next to me, protruding out of his unseasonably heavy winter coat, a field- grey coat with strange buttons.” And to further remind the reader of the surrounding scenes of deprivation and destruction, she adds that when Monsieur Carr is in hospital with broken ribs, he shares a room with Polish men, one with a bandaged head, the other with” a leg in plaster, suspended by a pulley”,remnants of a society that has been punished by war and its aftermath. For even in a tale of romance, it needs to be grounded in facts, suffering that contrasts and heightening the fantasy of love.
There are secrets and secret languages and codes, and more words unsaid. When Albertine meets up with Alex, son of Sergei, at a small coffee shop by a railway station recalling Anna and Vronsky’s final meeting, she records the place smells of ordinary garlic, butter and tarragon, a décor of smoky posters advertising events from the 1930’s where Albertine imagines another ghost, the green eyed one of Diana, Alex’s English wife, occupying a chair. But Albertine surmises and again naively rationalizes, “ We were not going to have a secret language…and I, I thought as I walked across the grimy linoleum. There were no secret languages in London, anymore. It did not matter; what would we need a secret language for.” Yet her retelling this tale is one of omissions, secrets, misunderstandings, betrayals and surprises, much like Monsieur Carr’s. Her own mystery embellishes, and involves itself in Monsieur Ka’s own history as she becomes a kind of extended family figure.
Yet, Albertine’s presence, her meetings with son Alex trigger the reader to suspect some idle chatter, nonchalant kisses or even the sudden rendezvous at a café could evolve into something more, for she had initiated the meeting decided in order to share a perplexing dream in which he was the main figure. Albertine allows herself to be trapped by her fantasies. It is fitting that the book ends at a party celebrating Korda’s film attended by Olivier and Leigh, the elision of film and reality in a background established by a Russian princess, Anna Karenina.
Previously asked if she was happy in London, Albertine had explained that she felt disoriented in England, once more reinforcing the underlying thoughts in Tolstoys opening line of Anna Karenina, “All happy families resemble one another, each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way”. The reader is left to probe Albertine in her final scene, wondering about her fate that has entwined her in Goldsworthy’s reimagining the lives and loves of the iconic family.
July 22, 2019
How could I not love this book? Its imagining of life really grows on you, drawing on many references to our shared cultural past. Set in post WW2 cold, foggy London, it has a range of fascinating characters with many resonances to the novel Anna Karenina. There's a very European base to it, in the languages people speak, their histories and haunting memories. (Who knew spoken Russian sounds like softly falling snow?)The characters are mainly displaced from their homes and lives in Russia and France. Post war Berlin and the suffering there thread through it, in a shadowy way that swings into grim focus. Main character Albertine, Albie is newly married to her English husband, Albert. She finds pleasure in being the companion of an aged Russian, Monsieur Ka. Their relationship develops as they read Tolstoy and Chekhov together, their lives unfolding in the process. The author writes beautifully about the natural world, while her descriptions of interiors of these grand old London houses add richness and so much colour. There's rarely much detail of anything graphic or terrible but the loss, changes, grief, the seeking for adjustment that can flow from war are at the very heart of this novel.
February 13, 2020
One of the pleasures of this intensely absorbing book is how it demonstrates a paradox its characters discuss: ‘The fictional lives we read about – your Anna, your Emma Bovary here - are so much more authentic than ours… they leave a deeper mark.’
As you read the book, you have the sense your experiencing history, as it was lived, as if Vesna Goldsworthy has somehow lived a whole century, then distilled it to 271 pages. How does she do it? On finishing, I immediately started to re-read to find out. It’s to do with the selection of tiny, active details. The trauma of war is summarised by: ‘I still feel that young woman’s hair clinging to my coat and snagging on my buttons.’ Its aftermath is sketched in by ‘so many Londoners who had had exotic wars were now pallid and looked more strained than they had in wartime.’ (How does Goldsworthy know? You somehow believe she was there!)
Often, the book’s wisdom is so condensed it achieves the weight of aphorism. About post-war London: ‘It was the heart of an empire on which the sun never rose.’ On fiction: ‘If you write a memoir, everyone looks for lies; if you write fiction people search for the truth. On work in wartime: ‘Loyalty to one’s country is more important than loyalty to one’s wife.’
Typically, the book cunningly demonstrates this last maxim. Like its narrator, I managed to miss her growing attraction to one lover, her fatal distance from another, since I was so focused to what the story says about countries, our desire to belong to them, even when we’ve moved. Monsieur Ka speaks of returning to Russia: ‘I felt a searing pain when I first noticed Cyrillic inscriptions on station platforms, a sense of years lost.’
Characters long to return, but can’t: but we can return to the start of the book. Re-reading, I realised that the first five pages had passed in a fog – it took that time to attune to its rhythm – but re-visiting I realised the secrets of its end were concealed in a linguistic detail: ‘I had missed his meaning. He was using the unfamiliar, informal you for the first time.’
If you’ve read the book, you’ll know what I mean. If you haven’t, what are you waiting for? It’s a story of war and love in perfect polished prose.
As you read the book, you have the sense your experiencing history, as it was lived, as if Vesna Goldsworthy has somehow lived a whole century, then distilled it to 271 pages. How does she do it? On finishing, I immediately started to re-read to find out. It’s to do with the selection of tiny, active details. The trauma of war is summarised by: ‘I still feel that young woman’s hair clinging to my coat and snagging on my buttons.’ Its aftermath is sketched in by ‘so many Londoners who had had exotic wars were now pallid and looked more strained than they had in wartime.’ (How does Goldsworthy know? You somehow believe she was there!)
Often, the book’s wisdom is so condensed it achieves the weight of aphorism. About post-war London: ‘It was the heart of an empire on which the sun never rose.’ On fiction: ‘If you write a memoir, everyone looks for lies; if you write fiction people search for the truth. On work in wartime: ‘Loyalty to one’s country is more important than loyalty to one’s wife.’
Typically, the book cunningly demonstrates this last maxim. Like its narrator, I managed to miss her growing attraction to one lover, her fatal distance from another, since I was so focused to what the story says about countries, our desire to belong to them, even when we’ve moved. Monsieur Ka speaks of returning to Russia: ‘I felt a searing pain when I first noticed Cyrillic inscriptions on station platforms, a sense of years lost.’
Characters long to return, but can’t: but we can return to the start of the book. Re-reading, I realised that the first five pages had passed in a fog – it took that time to attune to its rhythm – but re-visiting I realised the secrets of its end were concealed in a linguistic detail: ‘I had missed his meaning. He was using the unfamiliar, informal you for the first time.’
If you’ve read the book, you’ll know what I mean. If you haven’t, what are you waiting for? It’s a story of war and love in perfect polished prose.
January 23, 2018
For me, everything was wrong with this novel. The structure was ill chosen with most of the stories told in long conversations that revealed little of the characters and allowed them to develop even less and allowed to narrative to a glacial pace. The central conceit of Anna Karenina as a true story was painfully contrived (it doesn't help that I hate the original), particularly where it was echoed by the "present-day" narrative.
Everything became terribly forced and predictable and yet as each event occurred I found them impossible to believe. The weak characters and lifeless relationships were just incapable of supporting the cumbersome central conceit. There was a total lack of chemistry between the different protagonists in the insipid love triangle that was genuinely painful to read and certainly did not come close to the life and fire of Tolstoy's original characters.
Yet if it were kept simple and free of ludicrous and frankly presumptuous trappings there could have been something worthwhile in Albie and Albertine's story. I would have liked to have seen more of Albertine's émigré struggles and I certainly would have liked to know more of Albie and his experience of war and peace. There could have been emotion and tragedy in that enough without shoehorning in the spectre of Anna Karenina. There was a story with potential here but it was buried so deep beneath an ill-conceived and poorly-executed conceit that it was totally smothered.
Everything became terribly forced and predictable and yet as each event occurred I found them impossible to believe. The weak characters and lifeless relationships were just incapable of supporting the cumbersome central conceit. There was a total lack of chemistry between the different protagonists in the insipid love triangle that was genuinely painful to read and certainly did not come close to the life and fire of Tolstoy's original characters.
Yet if it were kept simple and free of ludicrous and frankly presumptuous trappings there could have been something worthwhile in Albie and Albertine's story. I would have liked to have seen more of Albertine's émigré struggles and I certainly would have liked to know more of Albie and his experience of war and peace. There could have been emotion and tragedy in that enough without shoehorning in the spectre of Anna Karenina. There was a story with potential here but it was buried so deep beneath an ill-conceived and poorly-executed conceit that it was totally smothered.
May 9, 2018
Monsieur Ka is an engaging story set at the time the world was recovering from the second war with many displaced persons. Most of the action takes place in London but some of the characters are originally from other countries such as Russia and France. The narrator is the wife of a British Army officer who answers a job advertisement to be a companion for an old Russian émigré. She begins by reading to him from Madame Bovary but soon switches to listening to his life’s history and writing it down. She discovers that he is the son of Anna Karenina. Events unfold in the story that echo those that occur in Tolstoy’s famous novel.
Vesna Goldsworthy has used an interesting fictional device to create a novel which portrays the lives and loves of two families, in doing so she convincingly conveys the atmosphere of post WWII London and explores the feelings of characters who are struggling to build a home far from where they grew up.
Vesna Goldsworthy has used an interesting fictional device to create a novel which portrays the lives and loves of two families, in doing so she convincingly conveys the atmosphere of post WWII London and explores the feelings of characters who are struggling to build a home far from where they grew up.
August 19, 2021
~ Zašto je toliko lakše govoriti o smrti nego o ljubavi? ~ gospodin Ka ~
~ Da biste predali život u nečije ruke, morate biti ubeđeni da je vredan življenja. ~ Albertina
~Nikog drugog ne povredimo do sami sebe kada se osećamo uvređeno; nosimo u duši kiselinu, iako ona ne izjeda ništa sem onog suda u koji je smeštena. ~ gospodin Ka
~ Nemojte da vas satre tuga, draga moja. Uradite nešto. Prosto recite sebi da se ne smete prepustiti tuzi, a to isto mora učiniti i vaš muž. Mogu to da osetim u njemu, obuzdavanje u najdoslovnijem smislu reči, iako nismo razgovarali ni o čemu ličnom. ~ ~Da me satre tuga? Kao vašu majku, mislite? ~
Bio je zbunjen.
~ Moja majka je bila drugačija. Ona je pustila da je uništi sreća. ~
~ Da biste predali život u nečije ruke, morate biti ubeđeni da je vredan življenja. ~ Albertina
~Nikog drugog ne povredimo do sami sebe kada se osećamo uvređeno; nosimo u duši kiselinu, iako ona ne izjeda ništa sem onog suda u koji je smeštena. ~ gospodin Ka
~ Nemojte da vas satre tuga, draga moja. Uradite nešto. Prosto recite sebi da se ne smete prepustiti tuzi, a to isto mora učiniti i vaš muž. Mogu to da osetim u njemu, obuzdavanje u najdoslovnijem smislu reči, iako nismo razgovarali ni o čemu ličnom. ~ ~Da me satre tuga? Kao vašu majku, mislite? ~
Bio je zbunjen.
~ Moja majka je bila drugačija. Ona je pustila da je uništi sreća. ~
June 6, 2019
A beautifully written novel of love lost in post World War II London. A Jewish woman married to a British officer moves with him to London. There she becomes a part-time reader for a Russian Count who fled to England after the Russian Revolution. She becomes involved with his family as her own husband grows more and more distant.
September 1, 2019
Wonderful novel about the story of Anna Karenina as seen through her son's eyes. In 1947, Monsieur Ka lives in London and is ill and his family looks for a companion. Albertine, the wife of a British Army Officer is lonely. She becomes the companion of Monsieur Ka. He tells her his life story. A story of displacement and name changes. Beautifully written.
February 20, 2022
,,Moguće je voleti dva čoveka u isto vreme. Mnogi to ne mogu, ili bar tako tvrde. Ja sam, očigledno, mogla. Nadala sam se da će mi biti oprošteno."
March 24, 2024
Sunt unele cărți care îți ating sufletul cu putere, făcându-te să te îndrăgostești în mod iremediabil de poveștile lor, care ți se imprimă în interior și devin parte din tine. Sunt genul acela de romane care se pot încadra cu siguranță printre cele clasice, printre cele despre care știi cu siguranță că sunt făcute să fie nemuritoare. O astfel de carte este Monsieur Karenin de Vesna Goldsworthy, un roman din colecția Raftul Denisei, care m-a făcut să îl citesc dintr-o răsuflare. Este absolut minunat scris și creat, făcându-te să crezi că nu citești doar o poveste, ci ai o lume întreagă în fața ta, un trecut încărcat de durere, de suferință, de lumini apuse pe cerul universului. Știu că autoarea mai are și o reinterpretare a Marelui Gatsby, pe care am trecut-o, de asemenea, pe listă.
Monsieur Karenin este un roman profund, tulburător, care mișcă absolut fiecare părticică din sufletul tău. Transmite extrem de multă căldură și emoție și, deși este o poveste în poveste, sau, mă rog, mai multe povești aruncate de-a lungul paginilor sale, nu simți lucrul acesta, căci totul se leagă extrem de frumos și de închegat. Este o reluare a temei din Anna Karenin a lui Lev Tolstoi (puteți citi romanul acesta și fără a citi cartea marelui autor rus, dar are o altfel de încărcătură atunci când citești prima dată despre Anna Karenina), pe care Vesna Goldsworthy o duce dincolo de moartea tragică a Annei și o îmbracă într-un fel de aură mistică și emoționantă în egală măsură.
Monsieur Karenin este domnul Carr, fiul Annei Karenina, alungat din Rusia bolșevică și aterizat, asemenea multor membrii ai aristocrației ruse, în Marea Britanie, nu una strălucitoare așa cum o știm astăzi, ci una a lipsurilor de imediat după cel de Al Doilea Război Mondial. Acesta își spune propria poveste, care se împletește armonios cu cea a Albertinei Whitelaw, o evreică cu origini franceze căsătorite cu un englez. Însă viața ei nu este atât de plină și de fericită pe cât te-ai aștepta, ci este un fel de reluare a vieții Annei Karenina, căreia i se oferă un alt final. Găsim teme puternice în acest roman și chiar un triunghi amoros și o întâlnire cu marea Vivien Leigh, cea care i-a dat viață lui Scarlett O`Hara, celebrul caracter din Pe aripile vântului. Am iubit fiecare pagină a acestui roman și m-am lăsat purtată pe valuri de poveste, vrăjită de poveștile care mi se desfășurau prin fața ochilor. Atmosfera creată este una absolut magică, făcându-te să ieși cu totul din timp și din spațiu și să aterizezi direct în Londra anului 1947, cu iarna sa cumplită și oamenii care încă se refăceau după rănile lăsate de un război cumplit.
https://crampeiedesufletblog.wordpres...
Monsieur Karenin este un roman profund, tulburător, care mișcă absolut fiecare părticică din sufletul tău. Transmite extrem de multă căldură și emoție și, deși este o poveste în poveste, sau, mă rog, mai multe povești aruncate de-a lungul paginilor sale, nu simți lucrul acesta, căci totul se leagă extrem de frumos și de închegat. Este o reluare a temei din Anna Karenin a lui Lev Tolstoi (puteți citi romanul acesta și fără a citi cartea marelui autor rus, dar are o altfel de încărcătură atunci când citești prima dată despre Anna Karenina), pe care Vesna Goldsworthy o duce dincolo de moartea tragică a Annei și o îmbracă într-un fel de aură mistică și emoționantă în egală măsură.
Monsieur Karenin este domnul Carr, fiul Annei Karenina, alungat din Rusia bolșevică și aterizat, asemenea multor membrii ai aristocrației ruse, în Marea Britanie, nu una strălucitoare așa cum o știm astăzi, ci una a lipsurilor de imediat după cel de Al Doilea Război Mondial. Acesta își spune propria poveste, care se împletește armonios cu cea a Albertinei Whitelaw, o evreică cu origini franceze căsătorite cu un englez. Însă viața ei nu este atât de plină și de fericită pe cât te-ai aștepta, ci este un fel de reluare a vieții Annei Karenina, căreia i se oferă un alt final. Găsim teme puternice în acest roman și chiar un triunghi amoros și o întâlnire cu marea Vivien Leigh, cea care i-a dat viață lui Scarlett O`Hara, celebrul caracter din Pe aripile vântului. Am iubit fiecare pagină a acestui roman și m-am lăsat purtată pe valuri de poveste, vrăjită de poveștile care mi se desfășurau prin fața ochilor. Atmosfera creată este una absolut magică, făcându-te să ieși cu totul din timp și din spațiu și să aterizezi direct în Londra anului 1947, cu iarna sa cumplită și oamenii care încă se refăceau după rănile lăsate de un război cumplit.
https://crampeiedesufletblog.wordpres...
July 26, 2019
Anna Karenina is one of my favourite novels so, after attending a talk by Vesna in Exeter I was intrigued to read this novel. The premise is that Albertine, a Parisienne, now Living in 1947 London with her husband Albert is engaged as a companion to an older man. He turns out to be the son of Anna and, through their developing friendship, Albertine retells his story and that of his family.
"The fictional lives we read about … are so much more authentic than ours,” says Albertine. “They leave a deeper, more permanent mark on the world, while we, so-called real people, vanish without a trace.”
This book asks us to consider what is truth and what is narrative in our lives? How do we remember and reinterpret ours and other lives.
1947 is a harsh winter and the cold permeates the novel, the Spring thaw bringing new revelations.
Alongside Monsieur Ka's story, that of Albertine and Albert also emerge, as do the parallels with Tolstoy's novel.
I loved Vesna's style of writing. English is her third language she told us at the talk and she felt that was reflected in her writing. She implied it was simple but I didn't feel that to be the case. She writes eloquently and with restrained emotion (in keeping with the social mores of the time and class about which she was writing).
I thoroughly enjoyed this book and happily recommend it. I am not sure how I feel about the fate that befalls Albert and would be intrigued to hear from others about that.
"The fictional lives we read about … are so much more authentic than ours,” says Albertine. “They leave a deeper, more permanent mark on the world, while we, so-called real people, vanish without a trace.”
This book asks us to consider what is truth and what is narrative in our lives? How do we remember and reinterpret ours and other lives.
1947 is a harsh winter and the cold permeates the novel, the Spring thaw bringing new revelations.
Alongside Monsieur Ka's story, that of Albertine and Albert also emerge, as do the parallels with Tolstoy's novel.
I loved Vesna's style of writing. English is her third language she told us at the talk and she felt that was reflected in her writing. She implied it was simple but I didn't feel that to be the case. She writes eloquently and with restrained emotion (in keeping with the social mores of the time and class about which she was writing).
I thoroughly enjoyed this book and happily recommend it. I am not sure how I feel about the fate that befalls Albert and would be intrigued to hear from others about that.
January 6, 2023
This is a lyrical, human and complex exploration of love, loss, displacement, belonging, identity... I could go on! The story unfurls like a map, ever expanding and seemingly boundless, and as a reader you are constantly uncovering more information and putting together a clearer picture of the characters and their relationships with each other. The plot twists at the end of the story are excellent, one of which I had not predicted at all.
I fell in love with all the characters, despite the large cast, for they are nuanced and human and complex. There are close links to 1940s film (Vivien Leigh and Laurence Olivier are key figures in the story) which were understated and believable, and the story's use of Tolstoy's Anna Karenina as source material is incredibly clever.
From a personal perspective, this is one of the first novels I have read about what life was like in Europe in the aftermath of WW2 and I feel it has taught me a lot. I particularly liked the nuance in this element of the story, which is created by the hugely diverse experiences of the characters: some fighting, others fleeing; some rich, others poor; both male and female, from all across Europe. It is a distinctly anti-war narrative, without being didactic or graphic, and this fascinated me.
This book absolutely deserves 5 stars. What a perfect way to start my 2023 reading year!
I fell in love with all the characters, despite the large cast, for they are nuanced and human and complex. There are close links to 1940s film (Vivien Leigh and Laurence Olivier are key figures in the story) which were understated and believable, and the story's use of Tolstoy's Anna Karenina as source material is incredibly clever.
From a personal perspective, this is one of the first novels I have read about what life was like in Europe in the aftermath of WW2 and I feel it has taught me a lot. I particularly liked the nuance in this element of the story, which is created by the hugely diverse experiences of the characters: some fighting, others fleeing; some rich, others poor; both male and female, from all across Europe. It is a distinctly anti-war narrative, without being didactic or graphic, and this fascinated me.
This book absolutely deserves 5 stars. What a perfect way to start my 2023 reading year!
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