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416 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1985
"Threats do not concern us. If he kills you, come and tell us."I don't quite know what to make of this work. On the one hand, it certainly fulfills the goal it set out for itself, ten stories each day for ten days covering a broad spectrum of women's lives in Soviet Russia. On the other hand, I very rarely got the feeling that the whole was building into a work greater than the sum of its parts, and far too often I had a hard time remaining interested. Contributors to this negative reception are likely my lack of familiarity with the Decameron save through the hearsay of 'The Canterbury Tales' and other fanfictions, as well as my general distinterest in short stories and endless soap opera style lists of names. Exceptions to both of these can be seen in the forms of The Complete Stories and My Brilliant Friend, respectively, so I can't say I"m not completely unequipped when it comes to this satirical work. I may just be worn down by The Journey to the West to the point that I crave a cohesive narrative with a slow meandering rise and a slow meandering fall, so that if I'm disappointed with a less than novel narratological choice it only happens once other than tens after tens of times. Ah well. Such are the inadvertent mistakes one makes in choice of reading.
Have you ever heard her putting in a single word for women? Of course not, and that's why she's head of the Committee of Soviet Women.I don't think a single one of these stories passed the Bechdel test, which is rather pathetic considering how we're dealing with women from every strata of Russian society. Someone may prove me wrong, and I'm not exactly a big fan of Bechdel these days (her signing off on a horribly transphobic book makes it hard to deal), but when I read that a book called 'The Women's Decameron" is 'human', I expect actual acknowledgment of that humanity without the involvement or the evaluation by men. Not every story was as horrific and borderline exploitative as the ones involving revenge for rape that involved further objectification of an innocent woman by an odious cuntfucker, but there wasn't as much critical reception as I would've liked, and the fact that there are indeed instances of it meant that there could've been more. The historical fleshing out of life in Soviet Russia was welcome, but that also seemed to hit a wall after a certain point, like video games that have coded for a certain area only and prevent the player from going further with infinitely high mountains or literal zones of no life permitted. As such, as a string of stories this did not engage, as a record of history this barely informed, and as a satire it didn't critique enough, leaving me wishing that this work had been as striking as it certainly had the potential to be. I'll have to pick up something a bit stronger next time that perhaps doesn't aim so high. Go big or go home, but it's a slog getting through the failed attempts.
"[T]wo poetesses, Yuliya and Nataliya...Yuliya and Natalya got married[.]"My challenge book pile for 2018 is reaching its final stage, and while it certainly has been motivating and beneficial for both my reading rates and my book clean up levels, I'll be glad to not have the same dwindling stack staring me in the face every time I'm choosing a new work. Exceptions such as JttW and my own reading women of color prerogative have broken up the monotony a tad, but when one has more than 400 works at one's physical disposal, it's hard to return to the same 20 or so books for future engagement. School, however, is approaching, and I may look back at the relatively gargantuan amounts of free time I once had and reminisce about being able to actually fulfill a yearlong plan with several months to spare. We shall see, though. I can't be prevented from reading for long.
"So, do you think your Jesus Christ was a dissident, too?"
"Using modern jargon — yes, of course he was[."]