The Dream Life of Sukhanov

Sukhanov, an aspiring young Russian painter marries above his class and "sells out" to become an art critic at the influential Art of the World journal where he toes the Soviet party line by disparaging Western art that once inspired him. He quickly rises to editor-in-chief and acquires all of the luxuries of life (a beautiful apartment, a personal driver, a summer home). He eventually loses the respect of his wife and his son and daughter - and ultimately his life unravels as his past begins to catch up to him and he comes full circle learning painfully about what is truly important in life - the truth, beauty, the daily miracles of living. While it was challenging at times to follow the plot of Sukhanov's dreams then to reality and then back to dreams - you are sitting right in the driver's seat of Sukhanov's mind throughout this book. Loved it.

Anatoly Sukhanov had it made. He has a beautiful wife, a luxurious apartment, chauffer driven limousine, and is editor of Russia's premier art journal. But what was the status of art in 1985 Russia? Anatoly's job was to extol an art form that portrayed happy mine workers, smiling women holding their babies, gallant soldiers defending Mother Russia. How does a man who was an aspiring artist in his youth stomach the promotion of such dross? As the novel progresses Anatoly experiences a series of small, quirky incidents that start him on a mental reverie of his life. When you are young, and poor and struggling you are faced with a decision. Do you as an artist stick to your artistic ideals which are contrary to the regime's dictates, and risk living in poverty or worse or do you take the road that provides a decent living for your wife and children? As the pages fly by the current reality of Anatoly's life begin to meld more and more with his dreams of the past. We wonder, as Anatoly examines his past, if he is going to have a spiritual reawakening. Can he finally cast off his self imposed blinders? There has to be the remains of an artistic soul in this man whose job it is to denounce Matisse, and Dali as decadent, corrupt artists. This is an amazing book. It is truly a literary work of the highest order. The writing is superb. Here is a Russian born woman writing in what is her third language. One immediately begins to compare the writing with that of Joseph Conrad and Vladimir Nabokov, and the comparison is highly favorable. If you love art, as I do, you will find this book to be especially enjoyable. This is truly a "10 star" book.

When I first heard of this novel through the Washington Post's review, I hesitated, because I am an expert neither in art nor in Russian history and culture. However, that was an unnecessary concern, as long as a potential reader understands the basics of 20th century Russia between the revolution and glasnost, and has a modest grasp of different styles of painting and the occasional famous name, and has an interest in this unusual and highly creative concept. As a psychological study, the novel's premise was fairly straightforward, almost a variation on an American-style midlife crisis: young man of promise realizes in his fifties that he may have made the wrong choices and wasted that promise. At first I found the contrast between the cushy Tolya and the young, rebellious artist somewhat difficult to believe. As the author added detail and rationale in key scenes between Tolya and Nina, Tolya and Nina's father, and Tolya and Lev, the resistance faded. In the end, the residual uncertainty and ambiguity in the conclusions Tolya and Lev reach about their dreams and choices fit well with the theme. Presumably Ms. Grushin does not think highly of the dark years of Soviet control, but she is not so harsh as to make the characters one-dimensional or humiliated with an obvious judgmental or political tone. The author's command of the language is superb. In the early chapters, what stood out was her highly descriptive phrasing, where almost no noun could be stated without one or more juicy adjectives along for the ride. Perhaps this came naturally to a student of art, where such colorful language is essential for any hope of describing paintings in text. I must admit to struggling at times in keeping straight the boundaries between the dream sequences and real-time events, or what was true and what was a mirage. A sharp delineation would have detracted from rendering the chaos Tolya endured, as his own mental state rapidly shifted.

And your old men shall dream dreams. This biblical prophecy plays out with a vengeance in Olga Grushin's extraordinary first novel, "The Dream Life of Sukhanov". "Sukhanov" has received glowing reviews in both the New York Times and on the cover of the Washington Post's Sunday Book Review. Such advance praise often leaves me with heightened expectations that almost invariably lead to disappointment. In this instance my expectations were not only met but exceeded. The book's publishers claim it is "steeped in the tradition of Gogol, Bulgakov, and Nabokov." To be sure, Grushin has not (yet) attained the mastery of a Bulgakov or Nabokov but it is no small achievement to have the comparison made with a straight face, even if one hasn't quite reached that stature. The fact that English is not Grushin's first language also calls Joseph Conrad to mind. The protagonist of the novel is Anatoly Sukhanov, known as Tolya to his friends and family. It is 1985; Tolya is 56 and an apparatchik (a mid-level party-functionary entitled to many of the benefits of the ruling class) of the first rank. An artist in his youth, Tolya is now the editor in chief of the USSR's leading art magazine, "Art of the World." Tolya's career consists of writing articles praising `socialist realism' (paintings of heroes of labor working in factories and the like) and condemning Western art, be it cubism or surrealism and the like as decadent work of no value to a progressive society. He is seemingly content, has a nice Moscow apartment, a beautiful wife, two children, and a chauffeur to drive him to and from his job and to his dacha outside Moscow. The story opens with Tolya and his wife attending a state-sponsored birthday party for his father-in-law an artist of limited talent but high rank. It is at this party that Tolya's life begins to unravel. Tolya runs into Lev, formerly his best friend back in the days when Tolya was still painting. This encounter sets off some long submerged memories for Tolya. Later, a casual remark by Tolya's mother serves as another pinprick that unleashes another submerged memory. In short order the floodgates have been opened and Tolya's past begins to overwhelm him. We see a childhood where Tolya's father was taken away, presumably a victim of Stalin's purges. We see Tolya develop his skills as an artist in his young adulthood, from 1957 until 1962. Those years are important because they were known in the USSR as "the Thaw", a time when Khrushchev lifted some of the strictures on Soviet art and literature. Solzhenitsyn and Yevtushenko, among others were published and the art world was abuzz with new activity. The thaw ended in 1962 and it was then that Tolya was forced to make the life choice that forms the central event of the novel. Grushin does a tremendous job showing us Tolya's envelopment in dreams of his past. The transformation between his present (the dreams of a middle aged man) and his past (when he was a young man with th