The hat is the pride of man, 23 Dec 2005
for he who cannot keep his hat on before kings and emperors is no free man. Schiller

When one thinks of what may loosely be referred to as Soviet `dissident' literature there is a tendency to think of long, grim, dark stories. Heavyweight volumes on issues of life, death, and the oppressive nature of a totalitarian regime mark the works of Solzhenitsyn, Pasternak, Grossman, and Rybakov. But Vladimir Voinovich will have none of that. Starting with is best-known work, "The Life and Extraordinary Adventures of Private Ivan Chonkin" and continuing through his latest book "Monumental Propaganda" Voinovich has used satire as a weapon aimed at the heart of the Soviet state - its bureaucracy. Voinovich has always drawn his pen at the cronyism, the arrogance, the preening sense of grasping materialism to acquire western clothes, food, and cigarettes and yes the blatant and latent anti-Semitism that has reared its ugly head at regular intervals in the last 100 years.

The Soviet authorities no doubt lacked the sense of humor that Voinovich's readership had. He was expelled from the Soviet Writers' Union in 1974 and sent into exile, like Solzhenitsyn, in 1980. In a famous response to the statement of Leonid Brezhnev that Voinovich brought harm to the prestige of the Soviet government, Voinovich published a reply that said simply: "I have not undermined the prestige of the Soviet government. The Soviet government, thanks to the efforts of its leaders and your personal contributions, has no prestige. Therefore, in all fairness, you ought to revoke your own citizenship."

Voinovich's The Fur Hat takes direct aim at the same Soviet Writers' Union that expelled him in 1974. The `hero' of this tale is Yefim Rakhlin. He considers himself a good writer because his eleven books, all about hardworking members of Soviet society who place the State above their individual wants and desires. According to the narrator (a thinly-veiled Voinovich), Rakhlin is a hack who writes uninspired prose about unbelievable characters. For all intents and purposes, Rakhlin is a true-believer.

Rakhlin's world starts to unravel when he hears from his colleagues that the Writers' Union is giving out fur hats to all its members. It turns out that the quality of the hat (with reindeer fawn being top of the line) depends on each writer's status in the bureaucratic pecking order. Although he doesn't expect reindeer fawn he finds out that his hat ranks him about as low as one can get for status purposes: he is assigned a fur hat made out of "fluffy tomcat". This devastating blow to his ego sets Rakhlin on a quest for a better hat.

As Rakhlin's emotions spiral out of control he finds himself dealing with an anti-Semitic neighbor (who also hears voices) who connects the disappearance of his house cat with Rakhlin's fluffy tomcat hat. His protest finds him threatening to publish his books in the west and he also ends up writing prose driven by despair and anger which, ironically, turns out to be the best work he has ever done. Voinovich keeps the pot and the plot bubbling along nicely as the story reaches its bittersweet climax.

Voinovich has a keen eye for detail. His portrayal of Rakhlin and the apparatchiks that populate the Writers' Union are funny and come across as very accurate. As a former member of the Writers' Union Voinovich certainly had a lot to draw on and his characterizations, thought clearly satirical, have a ring of truth to them.

The Fur Hat is a slim volume but it packs a punch. It is both funny and insightful and well worth reading.

The hat is the pride of man, 23 Dec 2005
for he who cannot keep his hat on before kings and emperors is no free man. Schiller

When one thinks of what may loosely be referred to as Soviet `dissident' literature there is a tendency to think of long, grim, dark stories. Heavyweight volumes on issues of life, death, and the oppressive nature of a totalitarian regime mark the works of Solzhenitsyn, Pasternak, Grossman, and Rybakov. But Vladimir Voinovich will have none of that. Starting with is best-known work, "The Life and Extraordinary Adventures of Private Ivan Chonkin" and continuing through his latest book "Monumental Propaganda" Voinovich has used satire as a weapon aimed at the heart of the Soviet state - its bureaucracy. Voinovich has always drawn his pen at the cronyism, the arrogance, the preening sense of grasping materialism to acquire western clothes, food, and cigarettes and yes the blatant and latent anti-Semitism that has reared its ugly head at regular intervals in the last 100 years.

The Soviet authorities no doubt lacked the sense of humor that Voinovich's readership had. He was expelled from the Soviet Writers' Union in 1974 and sent into exile, like Solzhenitsyn, in 1980. In a famous response to the statement of Leonid Brezhnev that Voinovich brought harm to the prestige of the Soviet government, Voinovich published a reply that said simply: "I have not undermined the prestige of the Soviet government. The Soviet government, thanks to the efforts of its leaders and your personal contributions, has no prestige. Therefore, in all fairness, you ought to revoke your own citizenship."

Voinovich's The Fur Hat takes direct aim at the same Soviet Writers' Union that expelled him in 1974. The `hero' of this tale is Yefim Rakhlin. He considers himself a good writer because his eleven books, all about hardworking members of Soviet society who place the State above their individual wants and desires. According to the narrator (a thinly-veiled Voinovich), Rakhlin is a hack who writes uninspired prose about unbelievable characters. For all intents and purposes, Rakhlin is a true-believer.

Rakhlin's world starts to unravel when he hears from his colleagues that the Writers' Union is giving out fur hats to all its members. It turns out that the quality of the hat (with reindeer fawn being top of the line) depends on each writer's status in the bureaucratic pecking order. Although he doesn't expect reindeer fawn he finds out that his hat ranks him about as low as one can get for status purposes: he is assigned a fur hat made out of "fluffy tomcat". This devastating blow to his ego sets Rakhlin on a quest for a better hat.

As Rakhlin's emotions spiral out of control he finds himself dealing with an anti-Semitic neighbor (who also hears voices) who connects the disappearance of his house cat with Rakhlin's fluffy tomcat hat. His protest finds him threatening to publish his books in the west and he also ends up writing prose driven by despair and anger which, ironically, turns out to be the best work he has ever done. Voinovich keeps the pot and the plot bubbling along nicely as the story reaches its bittersweet climax.

Voinovich has a keen eye for detail. His portrayal of Rakhlin and the apparatchiks that populate the Writers' Union are funny and come across as very accurate. As a former member of the Writers' Union Voinovich certainly had a lot to draw on and his characterizations, thought clearly satirical, have a ring of truth to them.

The Fur Hat is a slim volume but it packs a punch. It is both funny and insightful and well worth reading.

An hilarious tale of Soviet bureaucracy, 02 Mar 2001
I'll try to keep this as brief as possible in order to give you a little more time in your lunch hour to order it. Voinovich has always produced funny commentaries on Soviet life and this is no exception. Almost every line of Chonkin is quotable, the set pieces are beautifully written and for a short book the characters well defined. This book made me laugh out loud in parts and convinced me of Voinovich's talent as an author. If you've read the Ivankiad and Moscow 2042 read this.

A Shorter, Sweeter Svejklike Satire, 30 Aug 1999
Funny, good-natured look at a bumbling Soviet private sent to guard an airplane which is stuck out in the sticks just prior to the German invasion in 1941. Satirizes all manner of things Soviet, most especially bureaucracy and the pomposity of its upper echelons. Somewhat similar to The Good Soldier Svejk in this respect, but at a much more manageable size and pace. Some really funny bits about Comrade Stalin. Especially recommended for Russian literature devotees, but should be enjoyable to most. There is a sequel called Pretender to the Throne.

Even better than Shwejk!, 28 May 1999
The adventures of Iwan Chonkin are a master piece of satyre! They even surpass Hasek's world famous adventures of the soldier Shwejk! But, of course, the Soviet Union in the time of Stalin was more absurd than the Habsburg Monarchy in the time of Hasek and Kafka!

Fantastic (what my grandmother says), 18 Feb 1999
I have not read this book yet, but my grandmother highly recommneds it!

The best humorous representation of the Soviet reality., 21 Jun 1998
For the first time I read the book quite long ago - I would say some seven to eight years ago. Since that time it is one of my favorite books. It is one of those stories which you can read over and over again and you will still like it. I rated 5 stars - it is definitely worth reading!

The hat is the pride of man, 23 Dec 2005
for he who cannot keep his hat on before kings and emperors is no free man. Schiller

When one thinks of what may loosely be referred to as Soviet `dissident' literature there is a tendency to think of long, grim, dark stories. Heavyweight volumes on issues of life, death, and the oppressive nature of a totalitarian regime mark the works of Solzhenitsyn, Pasternak, Grossman, and Rybakov. But Vladimir Voinovich will have none of that. Starting with is best-known work, "The Life and Extraordinary Adventures of Private Ivan Chonkin" and continuing through his latest book "Monumental Propaganda" Voinovich has used satire as a weapon aimed at the heart of the Soviet state - its bureaucracy. Voinovich has always drawn his pen at the cronyism, the arrogance, the preening sense of grasping materialism to acquire western clothes, food, and cigarettes and yes the blatant and latent anti-Semitism that has reared its ugly head at regular intervals in the last 100 years.

The Soviet authorities no doubt lacked the sense of humor that Voinovich's readership had. He was expelled from the Soviet Writers' Union in 1974 and sent into exile, like Solzhenitsyn, in 1980. In a famous response to the statement of Leonid Brezhnev that Voinovich brought harm to the prestige of the Soviet government, Voinovich published a reply that said simply: "I have not undermined the prestige of the Soviet government. The Soviet government, thanks to the efforts of its leaders and your personal contributions, has no prestige. Therefore, in all fairness, you ought to revoke your own citizenship."

Voinovich's The Fur Hat takes direct aim at the same Soviet Writers' Union that expelled him in 1974. The `hero' of this tale is Yefim Rakhlin. He considers himself a good writer because his eleven books, all about hardworking members of Soviet society who place the State above their individual wants and desires. According to the narrator (a thinly-veiled Voinovich), Rakhlin is a hack who writes uninspired prose about unbelievable characters. For all intents and purposes, Rakhlin is a true-believer.

Rakhlin's world starts to unravel when he hears from his colleagues that the Writers' Union is giving out fur hats to all its members. It turns out that the quality of the hat (with reindeer fawn being top of the line) depends on each writer's status in the bureaucratic pecking order. Although he doesn't expect reindeer fawn he finds out that his hat ranks him about as low as one can get for status purposes: he is assigned a fur hat made out of "fluffy tomcat". This devastating blow to his ego sets Rakhlin on a quest for a better hat.

As Rakhlin's emotions spiral out of control he finds himself dealing with an anti-Semitic neighbor (who also hears voices) who connects the disappearance of his house cat with Rakhlin's fluffy tomcat hat. His protest finds him threatening to publish his books in the west and he also ends up writing prose driven by despair and anger which, ironically, turns out to be the best work he has ever done. Voinovich keeps the pot and the plot bubbling along nicely as the story reaches its bittersweet climax.

Voinovich has a keen eye for detail. His portrayal of Rakhlin and the apparatchiks that populate the Writers' Union are funny and come across as very accurate. As a former member of the Writers' Union Voinovich certainly had a lot to draw on and his characterizations, thought clearly satirical, have a ring of truth to them.

The Fur Hat is a slim volume but it packs a punch. It is both funny and insightful and well worth reading.

An hilarious tale of Soviet bureaucracy, 02 Mar 2001
I'll try to keep this as brief as possible in order to give you a little more time in your lunch hour to order it. Voinovich has always produced funny commentaries on Soviet life and this is no exception. Almost every line of Chonkin is quotable, the set pieces are beautifully written and for a short book the characters well defined. This book made me laugh out loud in parts and convinced me of Voinovich's talent as an author. If you've read the Ivankiad and Moscow 2042 read this.

A Shorter, Sweeter Svejklike Satire, 30 Aug 1999
Funny, good-natured look at a bumbling Soviet private sent to guard an airplane which is stuck out in the sticks just prior to the German invasion in 1941. Satirizes all manner of things Soviet, most especially bureaucracy and the pomposity of its upper echelons. Somewhat similar to The Good Soldier Svejk in this respect, but at a much more manageable size and pace. Some really funny bits about Comrade Stalin. Especially recommended for Russian literature devotees, but should be enjoyable to most. There is a sequel called Pretender to the Throne.

Even better than Shwejk!, 28 May 1999
The adventures of Iwan Chonkin are a master piece of satyre! They even surpass Hasek's world famous adventures of the soldier Shwejk! But, of course, the Soviet Union in the time of Stalin was more absurd than the Habsburg Monarchy in the time of Hasek and Kafka!

Fantastic (what my grandmother says), 18 Feb 1999
I have not read this book yet, but my grandmother highly recommneds it!

The best humorous representation of the Soviet reality., 21 Jun 1998
For the first time I read the book quite long ago - I would say some seven to eight years ago. Since that time it is one of my favorite books. It is one of those stories which you can read over and over again and you will still like it. I rated 5 stars - it is definitely worth reading!

Witty Literary Exorcism by Voinovich, 11 Aug 2004
Most Soviet dissident authors wrote with a heavy, albeit masterful, hand. Authors such as Solzhenitsyn, Pasternak, Grossman and Rybakov painted on a broad canvass, penning literary frontal assaults on the Soviet regime. Voinovich has always taken a different approach. Where the others fought oppression with outrage, Voinovich fought with satire and wit. His narrower, almost miniature approach was directed at the small absurdities of an apparatchik-governed regime that lacked many things, most notably a sense of humor. From Ivan Chonkin, the Fur Hat, to the Ivankiad, Voinovich took dead aim at the Soviet bureaucracy. His writing was funny, acerbic, and acclaimed in the West. He also took steps to secure the publication of other writer's works in the West. Most notably, Voinovich was responsible, in part, for getting a microfilmed copy of Vasily Grossman's masterpiece, Life and Fate delivered to a publisher in Switzerland. We may never have seen Grossman's brilliant work if not for Voinovich. He publicly defended Solzhenitsyn in the 1960s and 1970s although that relationship has now turned sour.

Voinovich became as much a threat to the Soviet regime as any of the other, more somber authors. By 1980, Voinovich was stripped of his Soviet citizenship and exiled to West Germany. Responding to a decree issued by Brezhnev asserting that Voinovich had brought the Soviet regime into disrepute, Voinovich issued a counter-decree that simply stated: "Mr. Brezhnev, you have highly over estimated my activities. I did not undermine the prestige of the Soviet Government. Thanks to the efforts of the Soviet leadership and your own efforts, the Soviet government has no prestige. Therefore, to do justice, you should deprive yourself of citizenship." Voinovich's wit, and his struggles with the Soviet government informs his Monumental Propaganda.

Monumental Propaganda is set in the city of Dolgov. Its two primary characters are Aglaya Stepanova Revkina (who was a minor character in Chonkin) and a large, iron statue of Stalin. The story opens in 1956 when word gets back to Dolgov of Khrushchev's denunciation of Stalin at the 1956 party conference. Aglaya is horrified. She is a war hero, a life time communist, and more than anything else devoted to Comrade Stalin. The story takes us from 1956 to the present. As the world and Dolgov changes, Aglaya remains unshaken in her devotion to Stalin. Shortly after the denunciation, the town's party leaders tear down Stalin's statue and plan to haul it to a factory for smelting. Aglaya will have none of that. She manages to have the statue installed in her apartment where it remains for the rest of her life. Aglaya loses her position and her party membership because of her unflinching devotion to Stalin. The statue carries with it an almost supernatural presence, one that the town and the world, unlike Aglaya would like very much to exorcise. The book serves as a de facto exorcism of Stalin and the Soviet regime. It doesn't treat the new Russia much better.

Voinovich takes us and a delightful cast of characters, including Voinovich himself, through the Khrushchev regime, then Brezhnev, Chernenko and Andropov and ultimately through contemporary Russia. Russian life is neatly put into categories by one of Voinovich's characters: "Cellar terrorism(under Lenin, when they shot people in the cellars of the Extraordinary Commission, or Cheka), the Great Terror (under Stalin), Terror Within the Limits of Leninist Norms (under Khrushchev), Selective Terror (under Brezhnev), Traditional Terror (under Andropov, Chernenko, and Gorbachev), and [now] Terror Unlimited.

In describing Alexei Makaraov, the book's moral compass Voinovich notes that his "postgraduate dissertation on problems of linguistics . . . was so brilliant that at first they wanted to award him a doctorate for it, but then they gave him five years in exile instead." The book is filled with casually tossed off sentences like this that left me laughing to myself. Some references may not be understood by the casual reader. For example, Voinovich has a short set piece that pretty much summarizes the evolution of Voinovich's relationship with Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn from admiration to mutual belligerence. It might not make much sense unless one understood the actual dispute between the two great dissidents. Having said that, these are relatively few and far between and should not detract from anyone's enjoyment of the book. The book has an explosive climax, in every sense of the word. It is in a very real sense a literary exorcism of Stalin.

Although the book's story line suffers from some weakness and the story tends to wander a bit, the brilliance of Voinovich's writing and his ability to make me laugh made the wandering all the more enjoyable. This is an excellent book that will be enjoyed by anyone with an interest in good writing.

Voinovich's Witty Literary Exorcism, 06 Aug 2004
Most Soviet dissident authors wrote with a heavy, albeit masterful, hand. Authors such as Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, Boris Pasternak, Vasily Grossman and Anatoly Rybakov painted on a broad canvass, penning literary frontal assaults on the Soviet regime. Vladimir Voinovich has always taken a different approach. Where the others fought oppression with outrage, Voinovich fought oppression with satire and wit. His narrower, almost miniature approach was directed at the small absurdities of an apparatchik-governed regime that lacked many things, most notably a sense of humor. From the Extraordinary Adventures of Ivan Chonkin, the Fur Hat, to the Ivankiad, Voinovich took dead aim at the Soviet bureaucracy. His writing was funny, acerbic, and acclaimed in the West. He also took steps to secure the publication of other writer's works in the West. Most notably, Voinovich was responsible, in part, for getting a microfilmed copy of Vasily Grossman's masterpiece, Life and Fate delivered to a publisher in Switzerland. We may never have seen Grossman's brilliant work if not for Voinovich. He also publicly defended Solzhenitsyn in the 1960s and 1970s although that relationship has now turned sour.

As a result, Voinovich became as much a threat to the Soviet regime as any of the other, more somber authors. By 1980, Voinovich was stripped of his Soviet citizenship and exiled to West Germany. Responding to a decree issued by Brezhnev asserting that Voinovich had brought the Soviet regime into disrepute, Voinovich issued a counter-decree that stated: "Mr. Brezhnev, you have highly over estimated my activities. I did not undermine the prestige of the Soviet Government. Thanks to the efforts of the Soviet leadership and your own efforts, the Soviet government has no prestige. Therefore, to do justice, you should deprive yourself of citizenship." Voinovich's wit, and his struggles with the Soviet government informs his Monumental Propaganda.

Monumental Propaganda is set in the city of Dolgov. Its two primary characters are Aglaya Stepanova Revkina (who was a minor character in Chonkin) and a large, iron statue of Stalin. The story opens in 1956 when word gets back to Dolgov of Khrushchev's denunciation of Stalin at the 1956 party conference. Aglaya is horrified. She is a war hero, a life time communist, and more than anything else devoted to Comrade Stalin. The story takes us from 1956 to the present. As the world and Dolgov changes, Aglaya remains unshaken in her devotion to Stalin. Shortly after the denunciation, the town's party leaders tear down Stalin's statue and plan to haul it to a factory for smelting. Aglaya will have none of that. She manages to have the statue installed in her apartment where it remains for the rest of her life. Aglaya loses her position and her party membership because of her unflinching devotion to Stalin. The statue carries with it an almost supernatural presence, one that the town and the world, unlike Aglaya would like very much to exorcise. The book serves as a de facto exorcism of Stalin and the Soviet regime. It doesn't treat the new Russia much better.

Voinovich takes us and a delightful cast of characters, including Voinovich himself, through the Khrushchev regime, then Brezhnev, Chernenko and Andropov and ultimately through contemporary Russia. Russian life is neatly put into categories by one of Voinovich's characters: "Cellar terrorism(under Lenin, when they shot people in the cellars of the Extraordinary Commission, or Cheka), the Great Terror (under Stalin), Terror Within the Limits of Leninist Norms (under Khrushchev), Selective Terror (under Brezhnev), Traditional Terror (under Andropov, Chernenko, and Gorbachev), and [now] Terror Unlimited.

In describing Alexei Makaraov, the book's moral compass Voinovich notes that his "postgraduate dissertation on problems of linguistics . . . was so brilliant that at first they wanted to award him a doctorate for it, but then they gave him five years in exile instead." The book is filled with casually tossed off sentences like this that left me laughing to myself. Some references may not be understood by the casual reader. For example, Voinovich has a short set piece that pretty much summarizes the evolution of Voinovich's relationship with Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn from admiration to mutual belligerence. It might not make much sense unless one understood the actual dispute between the two great dissidents. Having said that, these are relatively few and far between and should not detract from anyone's enjoyment of the book. The book has an explosive climax, in every sense of the word. It is in a very real sense a literary exorcism of Stalin.

Although the book's story line suffers from some weakness and the story tends to wander a bit, the brilliance of Voinovich's writing and his ability to make me laugh made the wandering all the more enjoyable. This is an excellent book that will be enjoyed by anyone with an interest in good writing.

"An abundance of poets is a sign of a people's savagery.", 29 Jul 2004
Vladimir Voinovich, in his first novel in twelve years, begins this satiric tale in Dolgov, a small town outside Moscow in 1949, when Aglaya Stepanova Revkina, a devoted follower of Josef Stalin, persuades the Committee to erect a piece of "monumental propaganda," a statue of Stalin, in the square. Mediocre sculptor Max Ogorodov miraculously creates a statue so lifelike that it seems to breathe on its pedestal. Throughout the novel Voinovich focuses on Aglaya, from the "glories" of the Stalin Era of the late 1940s, through Krushchev and his fall from grace, then Brezhnev and his successors, including Gorbachev, and on up to the present. The novel illustrates satirically the constant changes of Soviet philosophy, always involving terror of some sort, and consequent new visions of reality which follow.

When Stalin falls from grace, Aglaya falls, too, and when the party determines that the statue of Stalin will be purged from the square, Aglaya arranges with the salvager to bring it to her apartment, which, with its 3-meter high ceilings, is just high enough. She becomes a reluctant part of the poor, local community, as first one version of truth and then another comes into fashion and rules the country. By 1961, Aglaya finds that "the party has been polluted by an alien element," but when Krushchev is deposed, she is saddened to learn there will be no return to Stalinism. For twenty years, as various leaders come and go, she is like a sleepwalker, immune to her surroundings. Eventually, her party is disbanded, and, ironically, a casino is built on the premises in 1989. As the spirit of capitalism affects Dolgov and inspires some of its least admirable characters, a cottage industry in assassination evolves.

The novel presents fifty years of change in Soviet political theory through exaggerated characters. The historical thinking is so alien that it is difficult to empathize with the feelings of the main characters, and Aglaya herself is a caricature. The narrative is presented in simply told episodes, but the numerous characters, each with three Russian names and usually one nickname, are difficult to keep track of. The prose is formal, and the speaker is remote, but this satire is often very funny, and ironies and absurdities abound. Thoughtful and full of profound observations, the novel should appeal to those with a strong interest in Soviet history and literature and a curiosity about contemporary Russian life. Mary Whipple

The hat is the pride of man, 23 Dec 2005
for he who cannot keep his hat on before kings and emperors is no free man. Schiller

When one thinks of what may loosely be referred to as Soviet `dissident' literature there is a tendency to think of long, grim, dark stories. Heavyweight volumes on issues of life, death, and the oppressive nature of a totalitarian regime mark the works of Solzhenitsyn, Pasternak, Grossman, and Rybakov. But Vladimir Voinovich will have none of that. Starting with is best-known work, "The Life and Extraordinary Adventures of Private Ivan Chonkin" and continuing through his latest book "Monumental Propaganda" Voinovich has used satire as a weapon aimed at the heart of the Soviet state - its bureaucracy. Voinovich has always drawn his pen at the cronyism, the arrogance, the preening sense of grasping materialism to acquire western clothes, food, and cigarettes and yes the blatant and latent anti-Semitism that has reared its ugly head at regular intervals in the last 100 years.

The Soviet authorities no doubt lacked the sense of humor that Voinovich's readership had. He was expelled from the Soviet Writers' Union in 1974 and sent into exile, like Solzhenitsyn, in 1980. In a famous response to the statement of Leonid Brezhnev that Voinovich brought harm to the prestige of the Soviet government, Voinovich published a reply that said simply: "I have not undermined the prestige of the Soviet government. The Soviet government, thanks to the efforts of its leaders and your personal contributions, has no prestige. Therefore, in all fairness, you ought to revoke your own citizenship."

Voinovich's The Fur Hat takes direct aim at the same Soviet Writers' Union that expelled him in 1974. The `hero' of this tale is Yefim Rakhlin. He considers himself a good writer because his eleven books, all about hardworking members of Soviet society who place the State above their individual wants and desires. According to the narrator (a thinly-veiled Voinovich), Rakhlin is a hack who writes uninspired prose about unbelievable characters. For all intents and purposes, Rakhlin is a true-believer.

Rakhlin's world starts to unravel when he hears from his colleagues that the Writers' Union is giving out fur hats to all its members. It turns out that the quality of the hat (with reindeer fawn being top of the line) depends on each writer's status in the bureaucratic pecking order. Although he doesn't expect reindeer fawn he finds out that his hat ranks him about as low as one can get for status purposes: he is assigned a fur hat made out of "fluffy tomcat". This devastating blow to his ego sets Rakhlin on a quest for a better hat.

As Rakhlin's emotions spiral out of control he finds himself dealing with an anti-Semitic neighbor (who also hears voices) who connects the disappearance of his house cat with Rakhlin's fluffy tomcat hat. His protest finds him threatening to publish his books in the west and he also ends up writing prose driven by despair and anger which, ironically, turns out to be the best work he has ever done. Voinovich keeps the pot and the plot bubbling along nicely as the story reaches its bittersweet climax.

Voinovich has a keen eye for detail. His portrayal of Rakhlin and the apparatchiks that populate the Writers' Union are funny and come across as very accurate. As a former member of the Writers' Union Voinovich certainly had a lot to draw on and his characterizations, thought clearly satirical, have a ring of truth to them.

The Fur Hat is a slim volume but it packs a punch. It is both funny and insightful and well worth reading.

An hilarious tale of Soviet bureaucracy, 02 Mar 2001
I'll try to keep this as brief as possible in order to give you a little more time in your lunch hour to order it. Voinovich has always produced funny commentaries on Soviet life and this is no exception. Almost every line of Chonkin is quotable, the set pieces are beautifully written and for a short book the characters well defined. This book made me laugh out loud in parts and convinced me of Voinovich's talent as an author. If you've read the Ivankiad and Moscow 2042 read this.

A Shorter, Sweeter Svejklike Satire, 30 Aug 1999
Funny, good-natured look at a bumbling Soviet private sent to guard an airplane which is stuck out in the sticks just prior to the German invasion in 1941. Satirizes all manner of things Soviet, most especially bureaucracy and the pomposity of its upper echelons. Somewhat similar to The Good Soldier Svejk in this respect, but at a much more manageable size and pace. Some really funny bits about Comrade Stalin. Especially recommended for Russian literature devotees, but should be enjoyable to most. There is a sequel called Pretender to the Throne.

Even better than Shwejk!, 28 May 1999
The adventures of Iwan Chonkin are a master piece of satyre! They even surpass Hasek's world famous adventures of the soldier Shwejk! But, of course, the Soviet Union in the time of Stalin was more absurd than the Habsburg Monarchy in the time of Hasek and Kafka!

Fantastic (what my grandmother says), 18 Feb 1999
I have not read this book yet, but my grandmother highly recommneds it!

The best humorous representation of the Soviet reality., 21 Jun 1998
For the first time I read the book quite long ago - I would say some seven to eight years ago. Since that time it is one of my favorite books. It is one of those stories which you can read over and over again and you will still like it. I rated 5 stars - it is definitely worth reading!

Witty Literary Exorcism by Voinovich, 11 Aug 2004
Most Soviet dissident authors wrote with a heavy, albeit masterful, hand. Authors such as Solzhenitsyn, Pasternak, Grossman and Rybakov painted on a broad canvass, penning literary frontal assaults on the Soviet regime. Voinovich has always taken a different approach. Where the others fought oppression with outrage, Voinovich fought with satire and wit. His narrower, almost miniature approach was directed at the small absurdities of an apparatchik-governed regime that lacked many things, most notably a sense of humor. From Ivan Chonkin, the Fur Hat, to the Ivankiad, Voinovich took dead aim at the Soviet bureaucracy. His writing was funny, acerbic, and acclaimed in the West. He also took steps to secure the publication of other writer's works in the West. Most notably, Voinovich was responsible, in part, for getting a microfilmed copy of Vasily Grossman's masterpiece, Life and Fate delivered to a publisher in Switzerland. We may never have seen Grossman's brilliant work if not for Voinovich. He publicly defended Solzhenitsyn in the 1960s and 1970s although that relationship has now turned sour.

Voinovich became as much a threat to the Soviet regime as any of the other, more somber authors. By 1980, Voinovich was stripped of his Soviet citizenship and exiled to West Germany. Responding to a decree issued by Brezhnev asserting that Voinovich had brought the Soviet regime into disrepute, Voinovich issued a counter-decree that simply stated: "Mr. Brezhnev, you have highly over estimated my activities. I did not undermine the prestige of the Soviet Government. Thanks to the efforts of the Soviet leadership and your own efforts, the Soviet government has no prestige. Therefore, to do justice, you should deprive yourself of citizenship." Voinovich's wit, and his struggles with the Soviet government informs his Monumental Propaganda.

Monumental Propaganda is set in the city of Dolgov. Its two primary characters are Aglaya Stepanova Revkina (who was a minor character in Chonkin) and a large, iron statue of Stalin. The story opens in 1956 when word gets back to Dolgov of Khrushchev's denunciation of Stalin at the 1956 party conference. Aglaya is horrified. She is a war hero, a life time communist, and more than anything else devoted to Comrade Stalin. The story takes us from 1956 to the present. As the world and Dolgov changes, Aglaya remains unshaken in her devotion to Stalin. Shortly after the denunciation, the town's party leaders tear down Stalin's statue and plan to haul it to a factory for smelting. Aglaya will have none of that. She manages to have the statue installed in her apartment where it remains for the rest of her life. Aglaya loses her position and her party membership because of her unflinching devotion to Stalin. The statue carries with it an almost supernatural presence, one that the town and the world, unlike Aglaya would like very much to exorcise. The book serves as a de facto exorcism of Stalin and the Soviet regime. It doesn't treat the new Russia much better.

Voinovich takes us and a delightful cast of characters, including Voinovich himself, through the Khrushchev regime, then Brezhnev, Chernenko and Andropov and ultimately through contemporary Russia. Russian life is neatly put into categories by one of Voinovich's characters: "Cellar terrorism(under Lenin, when they shot people in the cellars of the Extraordinary Commission, or Cheka), the Great Terror (under Stalin), Terror Within the Limits of Leninist Norms (under Khrushchev), Selective Terror (under Brezhnev), Traditional Terror (under Andropov, Chernenko, and Gorbachev), and [now] Terror Unlimited.

In describing Alexei Makaraov, the book's moral compass Voinovich notes that his "postgraduate dissertation on problems of linguistics . . . was so brilliant that at first they wanted to award him a doctorate for it, but then they gave him five years in exile instead." The book is filled with casually tossed off sentences like this that left me laughing to myself. Some references may not be understood by the casual reader. For example, Voinovich has a short set piece that pretty much summarizes the evolution of Voinovich's relationship with Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn from admiration to mutual belligerence. It might not make much sense unless one understood the actual dispute between the two great dissidents. Having said that, these are relatively few and far between and should not detract from anyone's enjoyment of the book. The book has an explosive climax, in every sense of the word. It is in a very real sense a literary exorcism of Stalin.

Although the book's story line suffers from some weakness and the story tends to wander a bit, the brilliance of Voinovich's writing and his ability to make me laugh made the wandering all the more enjoyable. This is an excellent book that will be enjoyed by anyone with an interest in good writing.

Voinovich's Witty Literary Exorcism, 06 Aug 2004
Most Soviet dissident authors wrote with a heavy, albeit masterful, hand. Authors such as Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, Boris Pasternak, Vasily Grossman and Anatoly Rybakov painted on a broad canvass, penning literary frontal assaults on the Soviet regime. Vladimir Voinovich has always taken a different approach. Where the others fought oppression with outrage, Voinovich fought oppression with satire and wit. His narrower, almost miniature approach was directed at the small absurdities of an apparatchik-governed regime that lacked many things, most notably a sense of humor. From the Extraordinary Adventures of Ivan Chonkin, the Fur Hat, to the Ivankiad, Voinovich took dead aim at the Soviet bureaucracy. His writing was funny, acerbic, and acclaimed in the West. He also took steps to secure the publication of other writer's works in the West. Most notably, Voinovich was responsible, in part, for getting a microfilmed copy of Vasily Grossman's masterpiece, Life and Fate delivered to a publisher in Switzerland. We may never have seen Grossman's brilliant work if not for Voinovich. He also publicly defended Solzhenitsyn in the 1960s and 1970s although that relationship has now turned sour.

As a result, Voinovich became as much a threat to the Soviet regime as any of the other, more somber authors. By 1980, Voinovich was stripped of his Soviet citizenship and exiled to West Germany. Responding to a decree issued by Brezhnev asserting that Voinovich had brought the Soviet regime into disrepute, Voinovich issued a counter-decree that stated: "Mr. Brezhnev, you have highly over estimated my activities. I did not undermine the prestige of the Soviet Government. Thanks to the efforts of the Soviet leadership and your own efforts, the Soviet government has no prestige. Therefore, to do justice, you should deprive yourself of citizenship." Voinovich's wit, and his struggles with the Soviet government informs his Monumental Propaganda.

Monumental Propaganda is set in the city of Dolgov. Its two primary characters are Aglaya Stepanova Revkina (who was a minor character in Chonkin) and a large, iron statue of Stalin. The story opens in 1956 when word gets back to Dolgov of Khrushchev's denunciation of Stalin at the 1956 party conference. Aglaya is horrified. She is a war hero, a life time communist, and more than anything else devoted to Comrade Stalin. The story takes us from 1956 to the present. As the world and Dolgov changes, Aglaya remains unshaken in her devotion to Stalin. Shortly after the denunciation, the town's party leaders tear down Stalin's statue and plan to haul it to a factory for smelting. Aglaya will have none of that. She manages to have the statue installed in her apartment where it remains for the rest of her life. Aglaya loses her position and her party membership because of her unflinching devotion to Stalin. The statue carries with it an almost supernatural presence, one that the town and the world, unlike Aglaya would like very much to exorcise. The book serves as a de facto exorcism of Stalin and the Soviet regime. It doesn't treat the new Russia much better.

Voinovich takes us and a delightful cast of characters, including Voinovich himself, through the Khrushchev regime, then Brezhnev, Chernenko and Andropov and ultimately through contemporary Russia. Russian life is neatly put into categories by one of Voinovich's characters: "Cellar terrorism(under Lenin, when they shot people in the cellars of the Extraordinary Commission, or Cheka), the Great Terror (under Stalin), Terror Within the Limits of Leninist Norms (under Khrushchev), Selective Terror (under Brezhnev), Traditional Terror (under Andropov, Chernenko, and Gorbachev), and [now] Terror Unlimited.

In describing Alexei Makaraov, the book's moral compass Voinovich notes that his "postgraduate dissertation on problems of linguistics . . . was so brilliant that at first they wanted to award him a doctorate for it, but then they gave him five years in exile instead." The book is filled with casually tossed off sentences like this that left me laughing to myself. Some references may not be understood by the casual reader. For example, Voinovich has a short set piece that pretty much summarizes the evolution of Voinovich's relationship with Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn from admiration to mutual belligerence. It might not make much sense unless one understood the actual dispute between the two great dissidents. Having said that, these are relatively few and far between and should not detract from anyone's enjoyment of the book. The book has an explosive climax, in every sense of the word. It is in a very real sense a literary exorcism of Stalin.

Although the book's story line suffers from some weakness and the story tends to wander a bit, the brilliance of Voinovich's writing and his ability to make me laugh made the wandering all the more enjoyable. This is an excellent book that will be enjoyed by anyone with an interest in good writing.

"An abundance of poets is a sign of a people's savagery.", 29 Jul 2004
Vladimir Voinovich, in his first novel in twelve years, begins this satiric tale in Dolgov, a small town outside Moscow in 1949, when Aglaya Stepanova Revkina, a devoted follower of Josef Stalin, persuades the Committee to erect a piece of "monumental propaganda," a statue of Stalin, in the square. Mediocre sculptor Max Ogorodov miraculously creates a statue so lifelike that it seems to breathe on its pedestal. Throughout the novel Voinovich focuses on Aglaya, from the "glories" of the Stalin Era of the late 1940s, through Krushchev and his fall from grace, then Brezhnev and his successors, including Gorbachev, and on up to the present. The novel illustrates satirically the constant changes of Soviet philosophy, always involving terror of some sort, and consequent new visions of reality which follow.

When Stalin falls from grace, Aglaya falls, too, and when the party determines that the statue of Stalin will be purged from the square, Aglaya arranges with the salvager to bring it to her apartment, which, with its 3-meter high ceilings, is just high enough. She becomes a reluctant part of the poor, local community, as first one version of truth and then another comes into fashion and rules the country. By 1961, Aglaya finds that "the party has been polluted by an alien element," but when Krushchev is deposed, she is saddened to learn there will be no return to Stalinism. For twenty years, as various leaders come and go, she is like a sleepwalker, immune to her surroundings. Eventually, her party is disbanded, and, ironically, a casino is built on the premises in 1989. As the spirit of capitalism affects Dolgov and inspires some of its least admirable characters, a cottage industry in assassination evolves.

The novel presents fifty years of change in Soviet political theory through exaggerated characters. The historical thinking is so alien that it is difficult to empathize with the feelings of the main characters, and Aglaya herself is a caricature. The narrative is presented in simply told episodes, but the numerous characters, each with three Russian names and usually one nickname, are difficult to keep track of. The prose is formal, and the speaker is remote, but this satire is often very funny, and ironies and absurdities abound. Thoughtful and full of profound observations, the novel should appeal to those with a strong interest in Soviet history and literature and a curiosity about contemporary Russian life. Mary Whipple

Lost in Translation, 24 Sep 2006
This is an unfortunate book. Published when the Soviet Regime was tottering and on the verge of collapse (and before Perestroika and Glasnost) its satire is dated and relies too much in the reader being intimately familier with the regime it was mocking. To anyone else, it is tough going as there is insufficient exposition about the object of its lampoon.

Thus its target audience seems to be restricted to former citizens of the Soviet Union and the people who studied it intensly in the West. Perhaps in the original Russian it was a hoot but its translation into English took away its satirical edge.

As a lampoon of Utopia/Dystopia it is not in the same league as Leacock or Swift. As an indictment on totaliarism it is outpaced by Orwell, although its comment about 1984 being about an efficient totalitarian regime is perceptive. There is no such thing as an efficient totalitarian regime unless it is dedicated to terrorising or tranquilising its subjects and also there is nothing better outside of the regime.

The Soviet Union is history and it former subjects will be in a few decades. Then this book will be completely incomprehensible, which is not something you can say about Orwell, Swift or Huxley. Read this book only if you are able to name all the members of the last politburo, without cheating. There was Gorbachev, and er...the other guys.

Still relevant & very funny, 24 May 2001
I read this book when it was first published in the UK. Whilst at first glance it may seem a bit dated, as a satire on Russia & totalitarianism it is as relevant as ever. Politics aside, Moscow 2042 is a surreal and literary treat. Like Orwell but with a sense of mischiefness.

The hat is the pride of man, 23 Dec 2005
for he who cannot keep his hat on before kings and emperors is no free man. Schiller

When one thinks of what may loosely be referred to as Soviet `dissident' literature there is a tendency to think of long, grim, dark stories. Heavyweight volumes on issues of life, death, and the oppressive nature of a totalitarian regime mark the works of Solzhenitsyn, Pasternak, Grossman, and Rybakov. But Vladimir Voinovich will have none of that. Starting with is best-known work, "The Life and Extraordinary Adventures of Private Ivan Chonkin" and continuing through his latest book "Monumental Propaganda" Voinovich has used satire as a weapon aimed at the heart of the Soviet state - its bureaucracy. Voinovich has always drawn his pen at the cronyism, the arrogance, the preening sense of grasping materialism to acquire western clothes, food, and cigarettes and yes the blatant and latent anti-Semitism that has reared its ugly head at regular intervals in the last 100 years.

The Soviet authorities no doubt lacked the sense of humor that Voinovich's readership had. He was expelled from the Soviet Writers' Union in 1974 and sent into exile, like Solzhenitsyn, in 1980. In a famous response to the statement of Leonid Brezhnev that Voinovich brought harm to the prestige of the Soviet government, Voinovich published a reply that said simply: "I have not undermined the prestige of the Soviet government. The Soviet government, thanks to the efforts of its leaders and your personal contributions, has no prestige. Therefore, in all fairness, you ought to revoke your own citizenship."

Voinovich's The Fur Hat takes direct aim at the same Soviet Writers' Union that expelled him in 1974. The `hero' of this tale is Yefim Rakhlin. He considers himself a good writer because his eleven books, all about hardworking members of Soviet society who place the State above their individual wants and desires. According to the narrator (a thinly-veiled Voinovich), Rakhlin is a hack who writes uninspired prose about unbelievable characters. For all intents and purposes, Rakhlin is a true-believer.

Rakhlin's world starts to unravel when he hears from his colleagues that the Writers' Union is giving out fur hats to all its members. It turns out that the quality of the hat (with reindeer fawn being top of the line) depends on each writer's status in the bureaucratic pecking order. Although he doesn't expect reindeer fawn he finds out that his hat ranks him about as low as one can get for status purposes: he is assigned a fur hat made out of "fluffy tomcat". This devastating blow to his ego sets Rakhlin on a quest for a better hat.

As Rakhlin's emotions spiral out of control he finds himself dealing with an anti-Semitic neighbor (who also hears voices) who connects the disappearance of his house cat with Rakhlin's fluffy tomcat hat. His protest finds him threatening to publish his books in the west and he also ends up writing prose driven by despair and anger which, ironically, turns out to be the best work he has ever done. Voinovich keeps the pot and the plot bubbling along nicely as the story reaches its bittersweet climax.

Voinovich has a keen eye for detail. His portrayal of Rakhlin and the apparatchiks that populate the Writers' Union are funny and come across as very accurate. As a former member of the Writers' Union Voinovich certainly had a lot to draw on and his characterizations, thought clearly satirical, have a ring of truth to them.

The Fur Hat is a slim volume but it packs a punch. It is both funny and insightful and well worth reading.

An hilarious tale of Soviet bureaucracy, 02 Mar 2001
I'll try to keep this as brief as possible in order to give you a little more time in your lunch hour to order it. Voinovich has always produced funny commentaries on Soviet life and this is no exception. Almost every line of Chonkin is quotable, the set pieces are beautifully written and for a short book the characters well defined. This book made me laugh out loud in parts and convinced me of Voinovich's talent as an author. If you've read the Ivankiad and Moscow 2042 read this.

A Shorter, Sweeter Svejklike Satire, 30 Aug 1999
Funny, good-natured look at a bumbling Soviet private sent to guard an airplane which is stuck out in the sticks just prior to the German invasion in 1941. Satirizes all manner of things Soviet, most especially bureaucracy and the pomposity of its upper echelons. Somewhat similar to The Good Soldier Svejk in this respect, but at a much more manageable size and pace. Some really funny bits about Comrade Stalin. Especially recommended for Russian literature devotees, but should be enjoyable to most. There is a sequel called Pretender to the Throne.

Even better than Shwejk!, 28 May 1999
The adventures of Iwan Chonkin are a master piece of satyre! They even surpass Hasek's world famous adventures of the soldier Shwejk! But, of course, the Soviet Union in the time of Stalin was more absurd than the Habsburg Monarchy in the time of Hasek and Kafka!

Fantastic (what my grandmother says), 18 Feb 1999
I have not read this book yet, but my grandmother highly recommneds it!

The best humorous representation of the Soviet reality., 21 Jun 1998
For the first time I read the book quite long ago - I would say some seven to eight years ago. Since that time it is one of my favorite books. It is one of those stories which you can read over and over again and you will still like it. I rated 5 stars - it is definitely worth reading!

Witty Literary Exorcism by Voinovich, 11 Aug 2004
Most Soviet dissident authors wrote with a heavy, albeit masterful, hand. Authors such as Solzhenitsyn, Pasternak, Grossman and Rybakov painted on a broad canvass, penning literary frontal assaults on the Soviet regime. Voinovich has always taken a different approach. Where the others fought oppression with outrage, Voinovich fought with satire and wit. His narrower, almost miniature approach was directed at the small absurdities of an apparatchik-governed regime that lacked many things, most notably a sense of humor. From Ivan Chonkin, the Fur Hat, to the Ivankiad, Voinovich took dead aim at the Soviet bureaucracy. His writing was funny, acerbic, and acclaimed in the West. He also took steps to secure the publication of other writer's works in the West. Most notably, Voinovich was responsible, in part, for getting a microfilmed copy of Vasily Grossman's masterpiece, Life and Fate delivered to a publisher in Switzerland. We may never have seen Grossman's brilliant work if not for Voinovich. He publicly defended Solzhenitsyn in the 1960s and 1970s although that relationship has now turned sour.

Voinovich became as much a threat to the Soviet regime as any of the other, more somber authors. By 1980, Voinovich was stripped of his Soviet citizenship and exiled to West Germany. Responding to a decree issued by Brezhnev asserting that Voinovich had brought the Soviet regime into disrepute, Voinovich issued a counter-decree that simply stated: "Mr. Brezhnev, you have highly over estimated my activities. I did not undermine the prestige of the Soviet Government. Thanks to the efforts of the Soviet leadership and your own efforts, the Soviet government has no prestige. Therefore, to do justice, you should deprive yourself of citizenship." Voinovich's wit, and his struggles with the Soviet government informs his Monumental Propaganda.

Monumental Propaganda is set in the city of Dolgov. Its two primary characters are Aglaya Stepanova Revkina (who was a minor character in Chonkin) and a large, iron statue of Stalin. The story opens in 1956 when word gets back to Dolgov of Khrushchev's denunciation of Stalin at the 1956 party conference. Aglaya is horrified. She is a war hero, a life time communist, and more than anything else devoted to Comrade Stalin. The story takes us from 1956 to the present. As the world and Dolgov changes, Aglaya remains unshaken in her devotion to Stalin. Shortly after the denunciation, the town's party leaders tear down Stalin's statue and plan to haul it to a factory for smelting. Aglaya will have none of that. She manages to have the statue installed in her apartment where it remains for the rest of her life. Aglaya loses her position and her party membership because of her unflinching devotion to Stalin. The statue carries with it an almost supernatural presence, one that the town and the world, unlike Aglaya would like very much to exorcise. The book serves as a de facto exorcism of Stalin and the Soviet regime. It doesn't treat the new Russia much better.

Voinovich takes us and a delightful cast of characters, including Voinovich himself, through the Khrushchev regime, then Brezhnev, Chernenko and Andropov and ultimately through contemporary Russia. Russian life is neatly put into categories by one of Voinovich's characters: "Cellar terrorism(under Lenin, when they shot people in the cellars of the Extraordinary Commission, or Cheka), the Great Terror (under Stalin), Terror Within the Limits of Leninist Norms (under Khrushchev), Selective Terror (under Brezhnev), Traditional Terror (under Andropov, Chernenko, and Gorbachev), and [now] Terror Unlimited.

In describing Alexei Makaraov, the book's moral compass Voinovich notes that his "postgraduate dissertation on problems of linguistics . . . was so brilliant that at first they wanted to award him a doctorate for it, but then they gave him five years in exile instead." The book is filled with casually tossed off sentences like this that left me laughing to myself. Some references may not be understood by the casual reader. For example, Voinovich has a short set piece that pretty much summarizes the evolution of Voinovich's relationship with Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn from admiration to mutual belligerence. It might not make much sense unless one understood the actual dispute between the two great dissidents. Having said that, these are relatively few and far between and should not detract from anyone's enjoyment of the book. The book has an explosive climax, in every sense of the word. It is in a very real sense a literary exorcism of Stalin.

Although the book's story line suffers from some weakness and the story tends to wander a bit, the brilliance of Voinovich's writing and his ability to make me laugh made the wandering all the more enjoyable. This is an excellent book that will be enjoyed by anyone with an interest in good writing.

Voinovich's Witty Literary Exorcism, 06 Aug 2004
Most Soviet dissident authors wrote with a heavy, albeit masterful, hand. Authors such as Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, Boris Pasternak, Vasily Grossman and Anatoly Rybakov painted on a broad canvass, penning literary frontal assaults on the Soviet regime. Vladimir Voinovich has always taken a different approach. Where the others fought oppression with outrage, Voinovich fought oppression with satire and wit. His narrower, almost miniature approach was directed at the small absurdities of an apparatchik-governed regime that lacked many things, most notably a sense of humor. From the Extraordinary Adventures of Ivan Chonkin, the Fur Hat, to the Ivankiad, Voinovich took dead aim at the Soviet bureaucracy. His writing was funny, acerbic, and acclaimed in the West. He also took steps to secure the publication of other writer's works in the West. Most notably, Voinovich was responsible, in part, for getting a microfilmed copy of Vasily Grossman's masterpiece, Life and Fate delivered to a publisher in Switzerland. We may never have seen Grossman's brilliant work if not for Voinovich. He also publicly defended Solzhenitsyn in the 1960s and 1970s although that relationship has now turned sour.

As a result, Voinovich became as much a threat to the Soviet regime as any of the other, more somber authors. By 1980, Voinovich was stripped of his Soviet citizenship and exiled to West Germany. Responding to a decree issued by Brezhnev asserting that Voinovich had brought the Soviet regime into disrepute, Voinovich issued a counter-decree that stated: "Mr. Brezhnev, you have highly over estimated my activities. I did not undermine the prestige of the Soviet Government. Thanks to the efforts of the Soviet leadership and your own efforts, the Soviet government has no prestige. Therefore, to do justice, you should deprive yourself of citizenship." Voinovich's wit, and his struggles with the Soviet government informs his Monumental Propaganda.

Monumental Propaganda is set in the city of Dolgov. Its two primary characters are Aglaya Stepanova Revkina (who was a minor character in Chonkin) and a large, iron statue of Stalin. The story opens in 1956 when word gets back to Dolgov of Khrushchev's denunciation of Stalin at the 1956 party conference. Aglaya is horrified. She is a war hero, a life time communist, and more than anything else devoted to Comrade Stalin. The story takes us from 1956 to the present. As the world and Dolgov changes, Aglaya remains unshaken in her devotion to Stalin. Shortly after the denunciation, the town's party leaders tear down Stalin's statue and plan to haul it to a factory for smelting. Aglaya will have none of that. She manages to have the statue installed in her apartment where it remains for the rest of her life. Aglaya loses her position and her party membership because of her unflinching devotion to Stalin. The statue carries with it an almost supernatural presence, one that the town and the world, unlike Aglaya would like very much to exorcise. The book serves as a de facto exorcism of Stalin and the Soviet regime. It doesn't treat the new Russia much better.

Voinovich takes us and a delightful cast of characters, including Voinovich himself, through the Khrushchev regime, then Brezhnev, Chernenko and Andropov and ultimately through contemporary Russia. Russian life is neatly put into categories by one of Voinovich's characters: "Cellar terrorism(under Lenin, when they shot people in the cellars of the Extraordinary Commission, or Cheka), the Great Terror (under Stalin), Terror Within the Limits of Leninist Norms (under Khrushchev), Selective Terror (under Brezhnev), Traditional Terror (under Andropov, Chernenko, and Gorbachev), and [now] Terror Unlimited.

In describing Alexei Makaraov, the book's moral compass Voinovich notes that his "postgraduate dissertation on problems of linguistics . . . was so brilliant that at first they wanted to award him a doctorate for it, but then they gave him five years in exile instead." The book is filled with casually tossed off sentences like this that left me laughing to myself. Some references may not be understood by the casual reader. For example, Voinovich has a short set piece that pretty much summarizes the evolution of Voinovich's relationship with Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn from admiration to mutual belligerence. It might not make much sense unless one understood the actual dispute between the two great dissidents. Having said that, these are relatively few and far between and should not detract from anyone's enjoyment of the book. The book has an explosive climax, in every sense of the word. It is in a very real sense a literary exorcism of Stalin.

Although the book's story line suffers from some weakness and the story tends to wander a bit, the brilliance of Voinovich's writing and his ability to make me laugh made the wandering all the more enjoyable. This is an excellent book that will be enjoyed by anyone with an interest in good writing.

"An abundance of poets is a sign of a people's savagery.", 29 Jul 2004
Vladimir Voinovich, in his first novel in twelve years, begins this satiric tale in Dolgov, a small town outside Moscow in 1949, when Aglaya Stepanova Revkina, a devoted follower of Josef Stalin, persuades the Committee to erect a piece of "monumental propaganda," a statue of Stalin, in the square. Mediocre sculptor Max Ogorodov miraculously creates a statue so lifelike that it seems to breathe on its pedestal. Throughout the novel Voinovich focuses on Aglaya, from the "glories" of the Stalin Era of the late 1940s, through Krushchev and his fall from grace, then Brezhnev and his successors, including Gorbachev, and on up to the present. The novel illustrates satirically the constant changes of Soviet philosophy, always involving terror of some sort, and consequent new visions of reality which follow.

When Stalin falls from grace, Aglaya falls, too, and when the party determines that the statue of Stalin will be purged from the square, Aglaya arranges with the salvager to bring it to her apartment, which, with its 3-meter high ceilings, is just high enough. She becomes a reluctant part of the poor, local community, as first one version of truth and then another comes into fashion and rules the country. By 1961, Aglaya finds that "the party has been polluted by an alien element," but when Krushchev is deposed, she is saddened to learn there will be no return to Stalinism. For twenty years, as various leaders come and go, she is like a sleepwalker, immune to her surroundings. Eventually, her party is disbanded, and, ironically, a casino is built on the premises in 1989. As the spirit of capitalism affects Dolgov and inspires some of its least admirable characters, a cottage industry in assassination evolves.

The novel presents fifty years of change in Soviet political theory through exaggerated characters. The historical thinking is so alien that it is difficult to empathize with the feelings of the main characters, and Aglaya herself is a caricature. The narrative is presented in simply told episodes, but the numerous characters, each with three Russian names and usually one nickname, are difficult to keep track of. The prose is formal, and the speaker is remote, but this satire is often very funny, and ironies and absurdities abound. Thoughtful and full of profound observations, the novel should appeal to those with a strong interest in Soviet history and literature and a curiosity about contemporary Russian life. Mary Whipple

Lost in Translation, 24 Sep 2006
This is an unfortunate book. Published when the Soviet Regime was tottering and on the verge of collapse (and before Perestroika and Glasnost) its satire is dated and relies too much in the reader being intimately familier with the regime it was mocking. To anyone else, it is tough going as there is insufficient exposition about the object of its lampoon.

Thus its target audience seems to be restricted to former citizens of the Soviet Union and the people who studied it intensly in the West. Perhaps in the original Russian it was a hoot but its translation into English took away its satirical edge.

As a lampoon of Utopia/Dystopia it is not in the same league as Leacock or Swift. As an indictment on totaliarism it is outpaced by Orwell, although its comment about 1984 being about an efficient totalitarian regime is perceptive. There is no such thing as an efficient totalitarian regime unless it is dedicated to terrorising or tranquilising its subjects and also there is nothing better outside of the regime.

The Soviet Union is history and it former subjects will be in a few decades. Then this book will be completely incomprehensible, which is not something you can say about Orwell, Swift or Huxley. Read this book only if you are able to name all the members of the last politburo, without cheating. There was Gorbachev, and er...the other guys.

Still relevant & very funny, 24 May 2001
I read this book when it was first published in the UK. Whilst at first glance it may seem a bit dated, as a satire on Russia & totalitarianism it is as relevant as ever. Politics aside, Moscow 2042 is a surreal and literary treat. Like Orwell but with a sense of mischiefness.

Witty Literary Exorcism by Voinovich, 11 Aug 2004
Most Soviet dissident authors wrote with a heavy, albeit masterful, hand. Authors such as Solzhenitsyn, Pasternak, Grossman and Rybakov painted on a broad canvass, penning literary frontal assaults on the Soviet regime. Voinovich has always taken a different approach. Where the others fought oppression with outrage, Voinovich fought with satire and wit. His narrower, almost miniature approach was directed at the small absurdities of an apparatchik-governed regime that lacked many things, most notably a sense of humor. From Ivan Chonkin, the Fur Hat, to the Ivankiad, Voinovich took dead aim at the Soviet bureaucracy. His writing was funny, acerbic, and acclaimed in the West. He also took steps to secure the publication of other writer's works in the West. Most notably, Voinovich was responsible, in part, for getting a microfilmed copy of Vasily Grossman's masterpiece, Life and Fate delivered to a publisher in Switzerland. We may never have seen Grossman's brilliant work if not for Voinovich. He publicly defended Solzhenitsyn in the 1960s and 1970s although that relationship has now turned sour.

Voinovich became as much a threat to the Soviet regime as any of the other, more somber authors. By 1980, Voinovich was stripped of his Soviet citizenship and exiled to West Germany. Responding to a decree issued by Brezhnev asserting that Voinovich had brought the Soviet regime into disrepute, Voinovich issued a counter-decree that simply stated: "Mr. Brezhnev, you have highly over estimated my activities. I did not undermine the prestige of the Soviet Government. Thanks to the efforts of the Soviet leadership and your own efforts, the Soviet government has no prestige. Therefore, to do justice, you should deprive yourself of citizenship." Voinovich's wit, and his struggles with the Soviet government informs his Monumental Propaganda.

Monumental Propaganda is set in the city of Dolgov. Its two primary characters are Aglaya Stepanova Revkina (who was a minor character in Chonkin) and a large, iron statue of Stalin. The story opens in 1956 when word gets back to Dolgov of Khrushchev's denunciation of Stalin at the 1956 party conference. Aglaya is horrified. She is a war hero, a life time communist, and more than anything else devoted to Comrade Stalin. The story takes us from 1956 to the present. As the world and Dolgov changes, Aglaya remains unshaken in her devotion to Stalin. Shortly after the denunciation, the town's party leaders tear down Stalin's statue and plan to haul it to a factory for smelting. Aglaya will have none of that. She manages to have the statue installed in her apartment where it remains for the rest of her life. Aglaya loses her position and her party membership because of her unflinching devotion to Stalin. The statue carries with it an almost supernatural presence, one that the town and the world, unlike Aglaya would like very much to exorcise. The book serves as a de facto exorcism of Stalin and the Soviet regime. It doesn't treat the new Russia much better.

Voinovich takes us and a delightful cast of characters, including Voinovich himself, through the Khrushchev regime, then Brezhnev, Chernenko and Andropov and ultimately through contemporary Russia. Russian life is neatly put into categories by one of Voinovich's characters: "Cellar terrorism(under Lenin, when they shot people in the cellars of the Extraordinary Commission, or Cheka), the Great Terror (under Stalin), Terror Within the Limits of Leninist Norms (under Khrushchev), Selective Terror (under Brezhnev), Traditional Terror (under Andropov, Chernenko, and Gorbachev), and [now] Terror Unlimited.

In describing Alexei Makaraov, the book's moral compass Voinovich notes that his "postgraduate dissertation on problems of linguistics . . . was so brilliant that at first they wanted to award him a doctorate for it, but then they gave him five years in exile instead." The book is filled with casually tossed off sentences like this that left me laughing to myself. Some references may not be understood by the casual reader. For example, Voinovich has a short set piece that pretty much summarizes the evolution of Voinovich's relationship with Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn from admiration to mutual belligerence. It might not make much sense unless one understood the actual dispute between the two great dissidents. Having said that, these are relatively few and far between and should not detract from anyone's enjoyment of the book. The book has an explosive climax, in every sense of the word. It is in a very real sense a literary exorcism of Stalin.

Although the book's story line suffers from some weakness and the story tends to wander a bit, the brilliance of Voinovich's writing and his ability to make me laugh made the wandering all the more enjoyable. This is an excellent book that will be enjoyed by anyone with an interest in good writing.

Voinovich's Witty Literary Exorcism, 06 Aug 2004
Most Soviet dissident authors wrote with a heavy, albeit masterful, hand. Authors such as Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, Boris Pasternak, Vasily Grossman and Anatoly Rybakov painted on a broad canvass, penning literary frontal assaults on the Soviet regime. Vladimir Voinovich has always taken a different approach. Where the others fought oppression with outrage, Voinovich fought oppression with satire and wit. His narrower, almost miniature approach was directed at the small absurdities of an apparatchik-governed regime that lacked many things, most notably a sense of humor. From the Extraordinary Adventures of Ivan Chonkin, the Fur Hat, to the Ivankiad, Voinovich took dead aim at the Soviet bureaucracy. His writing was funny, acerbic, and acclaimed in the West. He also took steps to secure the publication of other writer's works in the West. Most notably, Voinovich was responsible, in part, for getting a microfilmed copy of Vasily Grossman's masterpiece, Life and Fate delivered to a publisher in Switzerland. We may never have seen Grossman's brilliant work if not for Voinovich. He also publicly defended Solzhenitsyn in the 1960s and 1970s although that relationship has now turned sour.

As a result, Voinovich became as much a threat to the Soviet regime as any of the other, more somber authors. By 1980, Voinovich was stripped of his Soviet citizenship and exiled to West Germany. Responding to a decree issued by Brezhnev asserting that Voinovich had brought the Soviet regime into disrepute, Voinovich issued a counter-decree that stated: "Mr. Brezhnev, you have highly over estimated my activities. I did not undermine the prestige of the Soviet Government. Thanks to the efforts of the Soviet leadership and your own efforts, the Soviet government has no prestige. Therefore, to do justice, you should deprive yourself of citizenship." Voinovich's wit, and his struggles with the Soviet government informs his Monumental Propaganda.

Monumental Propaganda is set in the city of Dolgov. Its two primary characters are Aglaya Stepanova Revkina (who was a minor character in Chonkin) and a large, iron statue of Stalin. The story opens in 1956 when word gets back to Dolgov of Khrushchev's denunciation of Stalin at the 1956 party conference. Aglaya is horrified. She is a war hero, a life time communist, and more than anything else devoted to Comrade Stalin. The story takes us from 1956 to the present. As the world and Dolgov changes, Aglaya remains unshaken in her devotion to Stalin. Shortly after the denunciation, the town's party leaders tear down Stalin's statue and plan to haul it to a factory for smelting. Aglaya will have none of that. She manages to have the statue installed in her apartment where it remains for the rest of her life. Aglaya loses her position and her party membership because of her unflinching devotion to Stalin. The statue carries with it an almost supernatural presence, one that the town and the world, unlike Aglaya would like very much to exorcise. The book serves as a de facto exorcism of Stalin and the Soviet regime. It doesn't treat the new Russia much better.

Voinovich takes us and a delightful cast of characters, including Voinovich himself, through the Khrushchev regime, then Brezhnev, Chernenko and Andropov and ultimately through contemporary Russia. Russian life is neatly put into categories by one of Voinovich's characters: "Cellar terrorism(under Lenin, when they shot people in the cellars of the Extraordinary Commission, or Cheka), the Great Terror (under Stalin), Terror Within the Limits of Leninist Norms (under Khrushchev), Selective Terror (under Brezhnev), Traditional Terror (under Andropov, Chernenko, and Gorbachev), and [now] Terror Unlimited.

In describing Alexei Makaraov, the book's moral compass Voinovich notes that his "postgraduate dissertation on problems of linguistics . . . was so brilliant that at first they wanted to award him a doctorate for it, but then they gave him five years in exile instead." The book is filled with casually tossed off sentences like this that left me laughing to myself. Some references may not be understood by the casual reader. For example, Voinovich has a short set piece that pretty much summarizes the evolution of Voinovich's relationship with Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn from admiration to mutual belligerence. It might not make much sense unless one understood the actual dispute between the two great dissidents. Having said that, these are relatively few and far between and should not detract from anyone's enjoyment of the book. The book has an explosive climax, in every sense of the word. It is in a very real sense a literary exorcism of Stalin.

Although the book's story line suffers from some weakness and the story tends to wander a bit, the brilliance of Voinovich's writing and his ability to make me laugh made the wandering all the more enjoyable. This is an excellent book that will be enjoyed by anyone with an interest in good writing.

"An abundance of poets is a sign of a people's savagery.", 29 Jul 2004
Vladimir Voinovich, in his first novel in twelve years, begins this satiric tale in Dolgov, a small town outside Moscow in 1949, when Aglaya Stepanova Revkina, a devoted follower of Josef Stalin, persuades the Committee to erect a piece of "monumental propaganda," a statue of Stalin, in the square. Mediocre sculptor Max Ogorodov miraculously creates a statue so lifelike that it seems to breathe on its pedestal. Throughout the novel Voinovich focuses on Aglaya, from the "glories" of the Stalin Era of the late 1940s, through Krushchev and his fall from grace, then Brezhnev and his successors, including Gorbachev, and on up to the present. The novel illustrates satirically the constant changes of Soviet philosophy, always involving terror of some sort, and consequent new visions of reality which follow.

When Stalin falls from grace, Aglaya falls, too, and when the party determines that the statue of Stalin will be purged from the square, Aglaya arranges with the salvager to bring it to her apartment, which, with its 3-meter high ceilings, is just high enough. She becomes a reluctant part of the poor, local community, as first one version of truth and then another comes into fashion and rules the country. By 1961, Aglaya finds that "the party has been polluted by an alien element," but when Krushchev is deposed, she is saddened to learn there will be no return to Stalinism. For twenty years, as various leaders come and go, she is like a sleepwalker, immune to her surroundings. Eventually, her party is disbanded, and, ironically, a casino is built on the premises in 1989. As the spirit of capitalism affects Dolgov and inspires some of its least admirable characters, a cottage industry in assassination evolves.

The novel presents fifty years of change in Soviet political theory through exaggerated characters. The historical thinking is so alien that it is difficult to empathize with the feelings of the main characters, and Aglaya herself is a caricature. The narrative is presented in simply told episodes, but the numerous characters, each with three Russian names and usually one nickname, are difficult to keep track of. The prose is formal, and the speaker is remote, but this satire is often very funny, and ironies and absurdities abound. Thoughtful and full of profound observations, the novel should appeal to those with a strong interest in Soviet history and literature and a curiosity about contemporary Russian life. Mary Whipple