In her introduction, Applebaum writes:
"Some important aspects of the Gulag experience are not reflected in any of these essays. By definition, all the writers featured here survived, and all of them emerged both physically and mentally intact. They were all literate. They were all educated. They all had enough psychological distance from their experience to be able to describe it on paper. Those factors alone make them exceptional. The reader will not find here the testimony of those who died in the camps; those who survived through stealth, murder, or collaboration and could not bear to talk about it afterward; those who were driven mad or physically broken. Although the majority of the Gulag's prisoners, particularly in the early days, were peasants and uneducated workers, their experiences do not feature here either, for the simple reason that they could not write. Nor are there any memoirs of professional criminals: with one or two exceptions, they could not or did not choose to write either. In that sense, this anthology, like other Gulag anthologies, is necessarily skewed…" (x)
The first time I read that, I saw the words, filed them in a cranny in my brain, and moved on into the meat of the anthology. However, though the full full import didn't hit me then, it hit me like a ton of bricks when I reached the piece written by Hava Volovich. I don't know if it's the female aspect, the heart aspect, or just the human aspect in me but it suddenly hit me: there are 12 pieces contained within this anthology. Stalin is believed to have been responsible for the deaths of anywhere between 10-60 million people (who knows if we'll EVER have an official tally), several MILLION of those coming from the Gulag system. How many voices won't be heard?
This Anthology was beautiful, powerful, heart breaking. If you are AT ALL drawn to Russian history, particularly Stalinist/Soviet history I would most definitely recommend this.