1985. Russia. As the Soviet Union disintegrates and Western capitalism spreads its grip across their land, the Morozov family finds itself consigned to the remote, icy wastes of Siberia. It is here that their only child, Alexey, is born.
A sweet and gentle schoolboy, Alexey discovers that reciting poetry learnt by heart calms his fears. That winter gales can be battled with self-invented games, and solace found through his grandmother’s rituals and potions. But when Alexey’s classmate, the son of KGB agents, confesses his love, the desire of two boys to be together clashes violently with the mad world around them.
Exploring the healing power of literature, the magic of first love, and the ways our family and homeland can save (or shatter) us, Spring in Siberia is a coming-of-age novel that, in the darkest of times, glows with hope and the yearning for freedom to be oneself – completely.
Artem Mozgovoy is a prize-winning writer and journalist from Siberia who migrated to Europe in 2011 when Russia began legalising its persecution of gay people. He writes poetry and fiction in English and Russian, and lives in Brussels, Belgium.
I could tell I was reading something special all the way through this book! It’s compelling and informative with beautiful language.
Growing up in a crumbling Soviet Union and the new formation of Russia, Alexey has to find his way in a country without tolerance for boys like him, who like poetry and other boys. Living in Siberia with its harsh conditions, Alexey and his family barely make ends meet and life is a continuous struggle to find work and conform to the changes of the nation.
I found myself greedily absorbing all the information about growing up in Siberia and Russia from a young citizen’s perspective in the 80s and into the 00s. This novel is a great history lesson presented in a fictional setting. The critique of all the leaders and corruption that permeates everything from top to bottom is scathing, with attention paid to how Putin has been able to get and keep so many ordinary Russians on his side.
The main character is continuously dismayed by the disjointed society around him, but Alexey’s mere existence and perseverance against the odds gives the story strength and heart, as does loving side-characters like his mother.
I very much recommend this novel if you like modern historical fiction with political commentary. Otherwise, the story might read a bit dry because of some of that focus but personally I loved it, especially with the gorgeous writing. It’s a rare occurrence that this kind of Own Voices story (growing up lgbt+ in Siberia) comes out, and with prose this good!
Spring in Siberia is out now. Thank you to Red Hen Press and NetGalley for providing me with an eARC for review consideration. All opinions are my own.
Narrazione piana e densa, che ha molto più della cronaca giornalistica che non del romanzo. E non so dove inizi la finzione e dove lo svelamento di sé, ma il dettaglio è spesso così puntuale da far inevitabilmente pensare a una autobiografia. Ammetto poi di conoscere troppo poco la storia e la cultura russa, motivo per cui ho scoperto molto e tanto di questo mi ha inquietato. Come penso sia ovvio, poiché racconta di una vita queer in un paese che ha un grande disprezzo per tutto ciò che non resta nel percorso tracciato dall'alto, è una storia molto dolorosa, piena di abusi e cattiverie. Zeppa, soprattutto, della triste consapevolezza d'essere reclusi in una vita vivibile solo fino a un certo punto.
Alexej nasce in Siberia a cavallo tra la dissoluzione dell’Unione Sovietica e l’avvento della Russia e del nuovo fragile seme del capitalismo. È un ragazzo timido che ama la poesia e un suo compagno di classe. Ma la sua purezza si deve scontrare con la dura realtà e la repressione. Mi sono affacciato a Primavera in Siberia di Artem Mozgovoy pensando di trovare una storia d’amore scossa da molte difficoltà da affrontare in un paese freddo e ostile. Avevo sbagliato tutto. Primavera in Siberia è invece una critica sofferta verso la Russia e il sistema su cui si basa. Diversi sono gli elementi presi in analisi dall’autore e sottoposti in maniera lucida agli occhi dei lettori attraversando periodi e luoghi diversi. Mentre leggevo questo libro ho avvertito il dolore e la rabbia che ha provato il protagonista, e forse, mi spingo a dire, anche l’autore, verso la sua nazione d’origine. Primavera in Siberia è un romanzo di formazione dove il protagonista si spinge a guardare oltre la superficie delle cose, con una spinta verso la libertà.
This is a review for an ARC provided by Netgalley.
If I had to describe this book in one word it would be: Powerful.
Luckily, I do not have to describe this book in one word, and can write to my heart's content about it. And that's one of the main topics that is presented in this book. This is a very real, very raw depiction of what it was like growing up in the USSR up to more modern times in Russia, and in all of the ways that it can break you down while dishing out promises of building you up, the empty promises, the whims of the government, which as you continue to read makes you feel more and more like a trapped bird in cage that can't even sing. We follow our main character, Alexey, through all of his experiences growing up queer, and the times even before he realized this aspect of his identity, and all the subtle things about his upbringing that singled him out from others; being an outcast in a world that seemed to already want to break up the life he knew and the family he had.
Personally, I've never really had an interest in the Russian ways of life. All I knew from it was from sheltered teachers showing pictures of tourist attractions, traditional clothing, and national foods as a way of introducing us to Russian life, in this rose-tinted ideal of Russian life and historical buildings and a magical land of snow. And when it came to the actual political aspects of the country, the only way that news is relayed to me is from my worried grandparents after watching their awful fear-mongering news channels. I don't think I really grasped how complicated the history of this country is, and in all the complex ways that the country has been transformed again and again, and at the same time staying completely stagnant in its ways. And I think that this is something in particular that this book tackles very well. The narrative feels so seamless. We see this country, this way of life at the beginning through the eyes of a child that does not yet know the feeling of nostalgia. And as this child grows up, with descriptions on how the world around him began to change and how this affected his family, we begin to reflect on the earlier stages of his life and learn the ways in which his experiences were rose-tinted, hazy, not encapsulating the full picture of what was really happening to him and his family all along.
And as we progress further into the book, with our narrator becoming more aware of his surroundings, of himself, of his future (and his fears of possibly never seeing it), we as readers get to experience all of the pain, the fear, the glimmering hope, the soul crushing anxiety, through the lens of a teenager simply trying to survive.
This book is nothing short of a spiritual experience, and I would say that this is a worthwhile read to anybody looking to expand their worldview or even to better contextualize the things that they might have learned in their social studies classes.
A coming-of-age story from icy Siberia covering the turn of the century, including the collapse of the Soviet Union, the reconstruction, Putin's arrival...All from a little city as far from Moscow as London is far from New York, which honestly is an aspect we don't necessarily realize when studying these events from foreign countries ! Alexey's touching story is also the one of his family : displaced, wandering consciously or not in a country that does not value individual identity and kills its LGBT population - basically by KGB, or suicide; and the one of journalism in a totalitarian regime.
His Babushka is a really touching character - from another time, almost magical but also sadly rooted in the past and the ancient regime, and his mother a true figure of empowerment and personal renewal. I actually wanted to learn more about her story !
Overall, Alexey's poetic voice takes us through a lot of violence, from childhood to uni, from oblivious ignorance to horrific knowledge of his own country's history, while keeping us almost protected from it thanks to the love and hope he is able to find in his family, his first boyfriend and the colorful western culture that slowly enters Russia. It may not make sense in these few words, but, I promise you, the author's writing makes it way better. It's worth the reading !
This is a masterpiece! Just wow! Siberia, queerness, Russia, history, family, love, you have it all! What a ride with this book, cold wintry ride in Siberia!
Da molto tempo tempo non mi capitava sotto mano un libro per cui non si ha voglia di terminarlo talmente è scritto bene. Lettura molto scorrevole con un grande excursus culturale sulla situazione della Russia postbellica che ho trovato parecchio interessante. Peccato solo per il finale: mi aspettavo un lieto fine "più lieto".
Setting: a queer boy grows up in Siberia amidst the collapse of the Soviet Union.
I went through cycles with this book (parts at the beginning felt drawn out), but from about midway onward (when Alexey moves from his small town to one of the industrial centers of Siberia), I knew I’d be giving it a 5. Mozgovnoy does an interesting job of holding admiration for his childhood while also unveiling the horrors of the Russian state through his main character’s adolescence.
I was so wrapped up in the characters that I desperately wanted them to be real but also…not. Because the bleakness, the desperation, the tragedy of being singled out as different and reprehensible (aka: gay) in 90s/early 2000s Russia was difficult to take in.
The book is human in the most human of ways. It depicts the tip of the iceberg of a complicated place but also seems to capture it as a whole. It highlights many of the differences between “European” and “Asian” Russia which I did not fully appreciate - also colonization, alcoholism, slavery, high suicide rates, bleak industrialization…yet still buckwheat kasha, colorful carpets hung on walls, Siberian summers, grandmas (babushkas) who love to feed their grandchildren, love in impossible situations.
Things I’ll be thinking about: t.A.T.u., Anna Akhmatova, khrushchevkas, gopnik culture
I absolutely loved this book, it was so hard to put down that I put off reading physical books and instead picked up my kindle any chance that I got. I love stories that follow a character over a long period of time in general but the way the Mozgovoy described the different periods made it all feel like I was growing up with Alexey instead of just reading about it. I also loved the writing style, it felt as if each word was deliberately placed to evoke certain emotions or senses. Overall this book was unlike anything I’ve ever read before! We need more queer coming-of-age-ish books set in places other than the US & UK where everything isn’t all sunshine and rainbows at the end because for so much of the queer community around the world that is the reality, and it’s easy to forget that when you are privileged enough to live in a society where you don’t have to live in fear every day. I want to read this book over and over and tell everyone else I know to read it as well because it’s such an important story that needs to be told. Thank you so much to the publisher and to Artem Mozgovoy for letting me read this early! I’m looking forward to reading more from you in the future!!
Coming of age in late twentieth century/early twenty-first century Russia is the subject of expatriate journalist Mozgovoy’s début novel, which, based on the author’s fascinating bio, could be classified as a fictionalized memoir. Rich in details about the country’s turbulent and contradictory history over the past century, the book is timely for the American public while many of us struggle to understand the reasons for Russia’s 2022 invasion of Ukraine and the very nature of the Russian state and its people. Mozgovoy offers an extraordinary first-person account of life for average Russian citizens as well as the specific plight of LGBTQ+ individuals, and what he has to say is bold, harrowing, and damning.
This moving story cuts me up for two main reasons. First, it is exotic. Then it describes feelings and experiences I am familiar with (only to some extent: no two men are the same), just as if, although set in a Siberian backwater, it were also mine after a fashion. Add to exoticism a really nice way with words, a good sense of dark humour peppered with biting irony, a strong grasp of things: there you are! Spring in Siberia ticks off all the boxes of a first-rate read. I truly believe it deserves praise on several counts, for honesty, courage, talent and inspiration. The book is meant as a novel but it certainly sounds like the real thing.
Artem Mozgovoy takes us through his childhood in Siberia, at the time when the dying USSR was going the bumpy road of Perestroika - restructuring - down to Nedostroika - unfinished restructuring. We in the distant West tend to see the splitting of the Soviet atom as the (re)birth of fifteen newly independent states - the former Soviet Republics, in other words, a big geostrategic reshuffle, but seen from within at an individual level, the ensuing fallout meant massive unemployment, wobbling -if not collapsing- services and institutions, society in a shambles. That is when the timeproof wisdom of an I've-seen- it- all loving Babushka comes as a life-saver.
But no matter where you are, there's no escaping it: History always catches up with you. Especially when the toxic hypocrisy of communism turns overnight into another poison, unbridled capitalism. "Homo Sovieticus", as Alexandr Zinoviev puts it, is now an extinct species. Mutants, adaptable to the wind of change, take over in a sudden flow of Western tat. Lo and behold, a new Russia is fast in the making! Yet, some things never change, do they? Thanks to Arkady Babchenko's One Soldier's War, I already had a good idea of the cruelty in the ranks of the Russian armed forces. Little did I know the same kind of overall cruelty seems to prevail in Russian schools, and what Mozgovoy has to say about it leaves me speechless with astonishment. Chapter four, The Black Day, is most upsetting. It gives horrendous details on everyday life in the late 1990s, in what I think it is only fair to call Thuggeryland, and I believe you can't really understand what is going on in Russia today if you don't keep this in mind. Anyway, how can you make it through when you are but a bashful, bookish, inadequate, oversensitive teenager? Mozgovoy's answer is find shelter in a "shabby world of culture".
Spring in Siberia is a deep introspective work. Its honesty makes a personal experience a matter of universal interest. Moreover, though a boy, Artem Mozgovoy is an acute observer of the sweeping changes of hefty proportions his world is all of a sudden submitted to. We owe his penetrating observations partly to his sharp eyes and bright mind. The rest I believe comes from what Countess Henriette de Mortsauf explains to Felix de Vandenesse in Honoré de Balzac's The Lily Of the Valley: "do not think that lonesome people know nothing of this world. They judge it". Yet if Mozgovoy feels he doesn't belong, he is not an island in a sea of voices -I've already mentioned his grandmother. There is also his dedicated plucky mother, whose disturbing past shall be partly revealed later in the book. And then there is Andrey whom I see as a key figure, not only for the obvious reason of being our hero's heart's first whisper, but because he quietly turns Artem's gaze - without moving his feet - towards the horrors of Stalinism.
Horrors you can't shrink away from because the past in Russia has (as Javier Cercas wrote about Spain) its Faulknerian way of lingering on and merging with the present. That's why whenever a person dear to Artem lifts the veil of secrecy about themselves, the reader is in for shocking disclosure. But it's not all darkness. With Western movie buff Andrey around, it feels like "Gagarin entering space". Unfortunately, there's only so much time you can spend counting stars. The reprieve is fleeting and soon reality pulls you harshly back down. From page 185 on, the book often makes for disturbing reading, as Mozgovoy describes the unleashed hatred inflicted upon him on a daily basis. Still, not only does he never ever yield to self-pity, he tries to understand his attackers' motives! On this, his analysis feels quite pertinent and incisive. Actually, the only way out is to find "better places" where "you feel like a human being, not an insect everybody spits on". Easier said than done!
Mozgovoy's novel leaves you thinking and pondering long after you put it down. I started this review off with the word "exoticism". That was not so much because Siberian landscapes, climate and mores feel alien to me, as because Russia in all its otherness and Faulknerian past stands out as a world apart. A world where no matter how promising spring can look, it will always fail you in the end because time itself as well as the difference between right and wrong keep disintegrating into the vast expanse of the country. As for me, all throuhgout this read, I thought over and over again about Ivan Turgenev and his famous "we sit in the mud... and reach out for the stars".
Spring in Siberia, Artem Muzgovoy "Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely " Lord Acton, 1887. Book Club discussion The book starts with a depressing sense of foreboding and misery exemplified by the dark winter walk to school. It goes on to describe an overwhelmingly dark and mostly unhappy childhood in the isolated depth of Siberia as the Soviet Union came to an end. Through his eyes we witness the collapse of a state and of order as the gangsters take over in the chaos of the Yeltsin years leading to the seizure of power by the arch gangster, Putin. The death of a embryonic democracy under economic failure. The parallels with 1930s Germany are striking. It paints a dismal picture of life in Russia and for Alexey one of a hopeless struggle in an uncaring and corrupt state. Readers said the sense of poverty was striking and the depth of poverty in a supposedly modern state, the UUSR, was astonishing. Alexey grew up in slum conditions in a mining town in Siberia (I identified as Topki).It was said that Alexey seemed very naïve both as a young boy and as a teenager, but it was pointed out he would know no other life. Constant beatings and bullying because of his perceived homosexuality tainted his life. It seemed the bullies were aware of his gay sexuality before he was. It was said it was an incredibly sad book. When they made their brief trip to the west, why didn't they stay? Despite all this though, readers had learned a lot and were glad they had read it.
A crude reading but that makes it very clear what it is to be gay in a country that does not accept you, at a time when being different is reason to be attacked, in a context of repression that fosters hatred. And yet that message of hope is not lost. Even though people are telling Alexey to give up, that he is weird, that no one will love him, is not overwhelmed and faces a society that wants him dead.
A much-needed book that, in addition to dealing with being gay in Russia between the 1900s and 2000s, criticizes this society and its government. I think it’s such a special story because we see Alexey growing up from when he’s a kid to his early college years. How he sees things that no understands, how he discovers himself. How being around people like you can help you see that you’re not the problem, that maybe the problem is society.
This is the reality of many people today. Many young people, and not so young, from more conservative countries are having to flee because staying can mean death. That’s why this story feels so real, and that’s why it’s so necessary to give voice to those people.
I do not know if the book is for me, in some points it was slow and it was difficult to me to continue reading, but it is a reading that does not leave you indifferent and that I recommend.
Spring in Siberia follows a young man's journey from childhood to adulthood, highlighting key points in the youth experience and inquiries of the self. Important self-enquires such as where their place in the world is, how their politics and ideals do or do not align with their family, and the inner conflict that occurs of being a child of the future, learning how to be in a world where some still cling to old ideals of the past. The novel beautifully illustrates the challenge of living within a nation enduring the struggle to progress versus stagnation. Finally, it exquisitely depicts the main character's exploration of their own identity, sexuality, and the part this plays on their life journey and experiences.
Artem is a phenomenal writer. I throughly enjoyed reading his book and delayed finishing it as I was not yet ready to leave the journey he takes the reader on. He transports the reader to a political time filled with transitions, change of power/ideals, and the unrest as a result of this within various communities. His descriptive, genuine writing awakens the senses and makes it hard to put the book down. There were several memorable, quotable moments where I was compelled to dog-ear the page (something I never do!).
If you would like to read a story that gracefully captures the human experience, I highly recommend this book.
Read this book! It’s a passionate coming-of-age story as well as a lens into the missed opportunities of Perestroika and post-Soviet Russia. Siberian Alexey is growing up looking for love, for artistic expression, and for simple freedom – the thing that we in luckier countries take for granted. He and his family struggle against a developing society of graft and thuggery – Alexey is beaten up daily after school by criminals newly released from the gulags because he looks ‘different’. His mother’s little shop is torched, probably by a self-styled ‘security’ gang.
Artem Mozgovoy writes beautifully with a purity of expression which perhaps comes from his writing in a second language, and also from being a poet. The imagery is striking and memorable: the claustrophobia of a tiny apartment in a grey block like every other grey block, being stranded in a snowy waste on a first attempt to see live theatre, the enchantment of his babushka’s cottage in the forest, a small boy lying down on the road because he thinks he has been abandoned, secret love on a balcony.
I would strongly recommend this poignant story of Alexey’s consuming longing for freedom fighting with the loves he will leave behind and the sadness of abandoning his troubled country.
This book is a fascinating insight into Perestroika Russia, not in one the big cities as is the usual setting, but in the remote region of central Siberia, in a town on the Trans-Siberian Railway route whose greatest claim to fame was that Lenin was on one of the trains that passed through. In a place that is closer to Asia than Europe, Mozgovoy is born a fish out of water, a young boy who grows up finding joy in immersing himself in poetry while his young contemporaries are smoking and drinking beer during recess breaks. We follow him from his first young years to university, all the time dealing with the daily hassles he has to endure because he is gay in a country where it’s considered a crime. Despite this he never gives the impression of hopelessness as his love for poetry shines through in his lyrical prose, giving a sense of hesitant optimism. This book is hypnotic and kept me so riveted that I was unable to put it down. This is Mozgovoy’s first book and I hope it won’t be his last.
Mozgovoy brings the reader into the moment when Perestroika changes everything and walks us along the edge of the before and after as he describes the harsh landscape of his birth and the aftermath of this transformation. He begins with the main character Alexey’s observations as a young boy in the middle-of-nowhere Siberia and takes the reader along with him as he learns more about his own heart and mind and the often hostile world he must navigate. If for no other reason, read this book to make the acquaintance of his amazing mother and grandmother—oh to spend an evening with these two incredible, resilient women.
This is an inspiring story of perseverance, especially in the search for a life of creativity and integrity. Mozgovoy is a sensitive and original storyteller who has a knack for seeing and describing the details of his surroundings and his feelings in a way that makes them accessible. I am grateful that he has shared this extraordinary and personal story with a global audience.
I found this to be an excellent book. It is very well written and the plot is gripping as well as confronting. The author's narrative of a young boy growing up in Siberia during perestroika and its aftermath, and the problems faced by someone coming to terms with their sexuality in the repressive society in which he lived was wonderfully vivid. His evocation of the changing seasons in Siberia was also excellent - from the freezing winter to the idyllic summer. Mozgovoy's depiction of the entrenched violence of this society, its backwardness and the poverty and unhappiness of so many Russian citizens was a revelation, for although this is a work of fiction, the power of the narrative is clearly rooted in the author's personal experience. Very highly recommended.
You have to read Artem Mozgovoy’s “Spring in Siberia,” a wonderful coming-of-age novel couched in incisive imagery: “This city is like a toothless beast that keeps chewing you but cannot swallow.” The strength and warmth of Alexei’s mother balances the chilled world. Like a Russian bread, strands of awakening sexuality, place (Taiga to Moscow), and politics (Stalin to Putin) are perfectly braided. My heart went out to Alexi and Andrey as they discovered each other; my mind chilled as he fought his way through the rigid schools.
Artem Mozgovoy’s novel took me to a modern Siberia I will never visit. It was a brilliant trip.
Beautifully written tale of a troubled childhood. The author gives a real sense of life as it is for many living in Siberia- and also the rampant homophobia already in place and solidified by Tsar Putin's reign. I really can't recommend this book enough........The uniform 5 story blocks of flats and winter time roads of compacted snow as tough as concrete, fewer hours of daylight than preferred......I taught English in a Siberian town in the 00's and it brought back memories of that time for me.
This book is beautiful. The writing is simple, yet it strongly evokes a specific time and place with much detail. The pacing can be odd, especially near the end when a couple times the narrator tells us the climax of a story and then goes back to tell us the beginning. It stops short at the end, like the author just decided it was long enough, but I would like to read the next book.
Highly recommend to anyone interested in: novels set during the end of Soviet Russia, coming of age stories, and immersive books set in underrepresented places/cultures. Mozgovoy's prose is beautiful and tender, clear and detailed. After reading my this, I feel like I've come to know personally the people, places, and culture represented here.
The incredible language of the book is what first struck me as we follow the main character through their early life. Each scene felt poised and well-crafted bringing the characters into vivid detail. They felt entirely human and living long after I left the pages.
This is an amazing glimpse into what life is like living in an autocratic country, especially for those that are different from the norm. Artem's writing is so powerful that I was absorbed in the story and could not put the book down. I am so grateful to live in a free country.
I really wanted to like this book when I picked it up! A memoir by a gay Russian man written with the freedom of a new European citizen, it was so promising.
And yet, the book turned out to be very uneven. There are some very good pages. The sensations of a child making his way to school through the Siberian snow are described beautifully. Many details of life in the late Soviet and post-Soviet space (the cold winters, the school bullying, the mafia of the early 90s, the horror of the communal staircases) are described point on. When it comes to dialog, it leaves much to desire and often is used for historical narration.
As one goes deeper into the book, one starts noticing some annoyingly careless writing. Historical events are described inaccurately and anachronistically (the pages about the August coup, the 60-year old *young* politician Yeltsyn, etc.).
“The summer I was born Perestroika started”. This made my head spin a little. If we believe this, the protagonist was born in 1985. However he talks with his school friends about Partiarch Kirill (Gundiaev), who began the post in 2009. In that year the protagonist would be 24 and still in high school!
Mozgovoy’s book contains many factual inaccuracies. The author Nikolai Ostrovskii becomes a *Communist Party Leader*. (Poor Nikolai was at some short point a regional Komsomol branch chair, but mostly he was a soldier and a worker, and since 1927, at only 23 years of age he has been bedridden and writing books about heroic Soviet youth).
The author leads the reader to believe that there were no Soviet/Russian films made about Stalin’s purgeries and GULAG. It’s simply not true.
And Brodsky was never exiled to Omsk.
Some general education lacunas are evident throughout the book. For example, the author states that gay minority is the only minority that is forced to hide its identity (P. 193) which is not true.
The issues described above could have been avoided with proper editing. (Mistakes in English words - like using Yuppie instead of Yupi - should have been caught even by an editor with no expertise in Russian studies). However there is another aspect of the book that I saw as the most problematic.
The author’s very understandable distaste to the provincial Siberian town appears to have turned into disdain for Russia in general. Even the charms of Moscow escape him (although he never had a chance to explore the city properly, his negative opinion is formed during a brief encounter and he shows no awareness of the limitations of this experience). The general disgust for his motherland is oozing from the pages of the book, and somehow this is actually a turn off in an author. During the meetings with the readers when asked if a Russian translation is coming, Mozgovoy shudders and mumbles “no”… it is clear that his relationship with his native country is severely lacking dimensions.
Mozgovoy is a narcissistic author whose creative work is attractive at first but becomes dull soon, as his main focus is himself and really nothing else.