Guzel Yakhina
Author of Zuleikha
About the Author
Works by Guzel Yakhina
Tagged
Common Knowledge
- Legal name
- Yakhina, Guzeľ Šamilevna
Яхина, Гүзәл Шамил кызы - Birthdate
- 1977-06-01
- Gender
- female
- Education
- Moscow School of Film
Tatar State Humanitarian and Pedagogical University - Short biography
- Родилась и выросла в Казани, окончила факультет иностранных языков и сценарный факультет Московской школы кино. Ее дебютный роман получил премии "Большая книга", "Книга года", "Ясная Поляна" и был переведен на 30 языков.
- Nationality
- Russia
- Birthplace
- Kazan, Tatarstan, USSR
Members
Reviews
It's always worthwhile keeping an eye on the Asian Review of Books, and it is thanks to them that I discovered Zuleikha, a big, bold, beautiful historical novel from Russian author Guzel Yakhina. The book was the winner of the Big Book literary prize and the Yasnaya Polyana Literary Award, and it's starting to get attention in the English speaking world now that there is a superb translation by Lisa C Hayden (who blogs about classic and contemporary Russian fiction here).
Beginning in the show more Stalinist era of dekulakisation (1929-1932, according to Wikipedia) and continuing to the aftermath of WW2, the novel tells the story of a brow-beaten woman whose life is transformed by this brutal policy. Zuleikha is a Muslim Tatar who also believes in ghosts and spirits, performing both the Islamic religious rituals under the guidance of the local mullah while also placating the malevolent local ghosts and spirits with sacrifices of food and other offerings. She is terrorised by her despotic mother-in-law, who though deaf and blind, still rules the roost and has systematically destroyed Zuleikha's self-confidence, taunting her about the loss of her four baby daughters and foretelling nothing but doom. Zuleikha calls her the Vampire Hag, but never to her face...
Ironically, given that he was responsible for millions of deaths, it is Stalin and his policy of collectivisation that rescue Zuleikha from Murtaza her brute of a husband and this dreadful life. In order to take state control of agriculture, Stalin declared the kulaks, who were independent and comparatively wealthy peasants, as class enemies. As the story opens the 'Red Hordesmen' were making their way through rural areas, deporting the kulaks and arresting or summarily executing any who resisted. Murtaza who is stupid as well as brutal meets his end, and Zuleikha along with thousands of others, is put on a train for a nightmare journey to Siberia. (The author's own grandmother made a similar journey, which probably accounts for the authenticity of the details).
This brutal experience is confronting to Zuleikha's entire identity. Although married, she is used to sleeping in separate quarters, and she would not normally venture out of her house in the company of any man not her kin. She feels naked without her headscarf when it has to be used for other purposes, and even the way she is forced to speak is alien to her.
In charge of the train is Ignatov, bitterly resentful at being sent out into the wilderness instead of serving the new state apparatus in a more dashing fashion that befits his military status. What he doesn't realise, though the careful reader will notice, is that his friend Bakiev is getting him out of harm's way before an imminent purge.
To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2019/04/01/zuleikha-a-novel-by-guzel-yakhina-translated... show less
Beginning in the show more Stalinist era of dekulakisation (1929-1932, according to Wikipedia) and continuing to the aftermath of WW2, the novel tells the story of a brow-beaten woman whose life is transformed by this brutal policy. Zuleikha is a Muslim Tatar who also believes in ghosts and spirits, performing both the Islamic religious rituals under the guidance of the local mullah while also placating the malevolent local ghosts and spirits with sacrifices of food and other offerings. She is terrorised by her despotic mother-in-law, who though deaf and blind, still rules the roost and has systematically destroyed Zuleikha's self-confidence, taunting her about the loss of her four baby daughters and foretelling nothing but doom. Zuleikha calls her the Vampire Hag, but never to her face...
Ironically, given that he was responsible for millions of deaths, it is Stalin and his policy of collectivisation that rescue Zuleikha from Murtaza her brute of a husband and this dreadful life. In order to take state control of agriculture, Stalin declared the kulaks, who were independent and comparatively wealthy peasants, as class enemies. As the story opens the 'Red Hordesmen' were making their way through rural areas, deporting the kulaks and arresting or summarily executing any who resisted. Murtaza who is stupid as well as brutal meets his end, and Zuleikha along with thousands of others, is put on a train for a nightmare journey to Siberia. (The author's own grandmother made a similar journey, which probably accounts for the authenticity of the details).
This brutal experience is confronting to Zuleikha's entire identity. Although married, she is used to sleeping in separate quarters, and she would not normally venture out of her house in the company of any man not her kin. She feels naked without her headscarf when it has to be used for other purposes, and even the way she is forced to speak is alien to her.
"Zuleikha Valieva!"
"I'm here!"
In Zuleikha's whole life, she's never uttered the word "I" as many times as she has during this month in prison. Modesty is a virtue so it doesn't befit a decent woman to say "I" a lot without reason. The Tatar language is even constructed so you could live your whole life without once saying "I". No matter what tense you use to speak about yourself, the verb will go into the necessary form and the ending will change, making the use of that vain little word superfluous. It's not like that in Russian, where everybody goes out of their way to put in "I" and "me" and then "I" again. (p.146)
In charge of the train is Ignatov, bitterly resentful at being sent out into the wilderness instead of serving the new state apparatus in a more dashing fashion that befits his military status. What he doesn't realise, though the careful reader will notice, is that his friend Bakiev is getting him out of harm's way before an imminent purge.
To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2019/04/01/zuleikha-a-novel-by-guzel-yakhina-translated... show less
#ReadAroundTheWorld. #Russia
Zuleikha is the debut novel of Russian author Guzel Yakhina and winner of the Russian Big Book Award, the Yasnaya Polyana Award, the Best Prose Work of the Year Award and is shortlisted for the Russian Booker Prize (2015). Set in the 1930s in the communist Soviet Union in Kazan, Tatarstan and Siberia, it tells the story of young Muslim Tatar housewife Zuleikha, who is deported to Semruk, a remote settlement on the Angara River in Siberia. The novel is inspired by show more Yakhina’s grandmother and her memories of being exiled to the Gulag.
The book begins like a Russian Cinderella story with Zuleikha living with her harsh and brutal husband Murtaza and manipulative, spiteful mother-in-law, who could have easily auditioned for the role of Baba Yaga in another tale. This all changes when the Red Army arrives, killing Murtaza and taking Zuleikha away. In the 1930s the Red Army swept through Russia as part of its dekulakization programme, killing and deporting millions of kulaks (prosperous peasants) and redistributing their land. This program was begun in 1917 by Lenin who declared the kulaks to be enemies of the state and began forcibly expropriating their land, and was continued by Stalin who announced the "liquidation of the kulaks as a class" in 1929. Between 1929–1932, the period of the first five-year plan, up to 600,000 kulaks died from hunger, disease and in mass executions.
Zuleikha finds herself on a gruelling six month train journey, not knowing her destination. She travels with an assortment of characters including Volf Karlovich Leib the eccentric doctor, Ikonnikov an artist, and Ignatov the conflicted Commandant. They arrive in remote Siberia and must set up a camp. Despite the hardships Zuleikha finds herself gradually evolving from the timid, superstitious housewife her mother-in-law had dubbed Pitiful Hen, to a strong and powerful hunter and survivor.
This was overall a good read, too long in parts, and somewhat dramatic in others. I wondered if the fact that Zuleikha’s experience of the Gulag was almost an escape from, and improvement on, the hardship of her previous life was somewhat undermining to the true reality of the absolute horror and classicide that occurred. You did however feel the mindless fanaticism of the regime and the hypocrisies inherent. I enjoyed the story of Ikonnikov, exiled for being an artist and part of the intelligentsia, then employed to create “agitational art” to inspire patriotism to the regime. 4 stars for me. show less
Zuleikha is the debut novel of Russian author Guzel Yakhina and winner of the Russian Big Book Award, the Yasnaya Polyana Award, the Best Prose Work of the Year Award and is shortlisted for the Russian Booker Prize (2015). Set in the 1930s in the communist Soviet Union in Kazan, Tatarstan and Siberia, it tells the story of young Muslim Tatar housewife Zuleikha, who is deported to Semruk, a remote settlement on the Angara River in Siberia. The novel is inspired by show more Yakhina’s grandmother and her memories of being exiled to the Gulag.
The book begins like a Russian Cinderella story with Zuleikha living with her harsh and brutal husband Murtaza and manipulative, spiteful mother-in-law, who could have easily auditioned for the role of Baba Yaga in another tale. This all changes when the Red Army arrives, killing Murtaza and taking Zuleikha away. In the 1930s the Red Army swept through Russia as part of its dekulakization programme, killing and deporting millions of kulaks (prosperous peasants) and redistributing their land. This program was begun in 1917 by Lenin who declared the kulaks to be enemies of the state and began forcibly expropriating their land, and was continued by Stalin who announced the "liquidation of the kulaks as a class" in 1929. Between 1929–1932, the period of the first five-year plan, up to 600,000 kulaks died from hunger, disease and in mass executions.
Zuleikha finds herself on a gruelling six month train journey, not knowing her destination. She travels with an assortment of characters including Volf Karlovich Leib the eccentric doctor, Ikonnikov an artist, and Ignatov the conflicted Commandant. They arrive in remote Siberia and must set up a camp. Despite the hardships Zuleikha finds herself gradually evolving from the timid, superstitious housewife her mother-in-law had dubbed Pitiful Hen, to a strong and powerful hunter and survivor.
This was overall a good read, too long in parts, and somewhat dramatic in others. I wondered if the fact that Zuleikha’s experience of the Gulag was almost an escape from, and improvement on, the hardship of her previous life was somewhat undermining to the true reality of the absolute horror and classicide that occurred. You did however feel the mindless fanaticism of the regime and the hypocrisies inherent. I enjoyed the story of Ikonnikov, exiled for being an artist and part of the intelligentsia, then employed to create “agitational art” to inspire patriotism to the regime. 4 stars for me. show less
Zuleikha lives with her abusive husband, Murtaza, and her mother-in-law (whom she thinks of as the Vampire Hag) in Soviet Russia in 1930. Her life with them is a very hard one. When communist soldiers come to take over their farm, her husband is killed and she’s sent to Siberia. It takes them many difficult months on a train to get there, with many dying along the way. The other survivors include a painter, a mind sickened doctor and the man who killed her husband, Commander Ignatov. show more Together they begin to build a new life for themselves.
This is a powerful Russian saga, giving an immense overview of life under communist rule. It covers such a wide range of political and religious issues. This author is a master at painting an image of the world as it was then in Russia for dekukalized peasants. I felt like I was watching a movie on a huge screen as I read this book. The author is also a filmmaker so that may well be why the book has such a cinematic feel to it. She doesn’t hold back on how brutal their lives were and there are some scenes that are horrific. The only reason that I’m not giving this book a full 5 stars is that there were times when it dragged a bit for me and at times when the plot seemed to be a bit contrived. But overall, it’s a wonderful read. The characters were deeply portrayed and Zuleikha’s life is a heart wrenching one.
Recommended.
This book was given to me by the publicist in return for an honest review. show less
This is a powerful Russian saga, giving an immense overview of life under communist rule. It covers such a wide range of political and religious issues. This author is a master at painting an image of the world as it was then in Russia for dekukalized peasants. I felt like I was watching a movie on a huge screen as I read this book. The author is also a filmmaker so that may well be why the book has such a cinematic feel to it. She doesn’t hold back on how brutal their lives were and there are some scenes that are horrific. The only reason that I’m not giving this book a full 5 stars is that there were times when it dragged a bit for me and at times when the plot seemed to be a bit contrived. But overall, it’s a wonderful read. The characters were deeply portrayed and Zuleikha’s life is a heart wrenching one.
Recommended.
This book was given to me by the publicist in return for an honest review. show less
Zuleikha Valieva lives an oppressed existence. It’s not because she lives in a village near Kazan, USSR, 1930, and the Soviet regime crushes her, though it’s about to. Rather, her husband, Murtaza, gives her nothing except hard blows and harder words, using her as beast of burden and sex object and haranguing her every move — that is, when he bothers to notice. Murtaza’s mother is even worse. She promises that the fates will punish Zuleikha, who’s a weakling, good for nothing — show more hasn’t she given birth only to daughters, all four of whom have died in infancy? — while Murtaza, like Mama, is strong, a born survivor.
But prophecy isn’t her chief talent, for the Soviet administration has decided that kulaks — landowning peasants, like the Valievs — are enemies of the state. And when soldiers come for their grain, livestock, and butter to feed the city populace, Murtaza fights back and dies for it.
Good riddance, you think. But Zuleikha has believed every harsh word ever spoken to her and figures that Allah has marked her for punishment. Scared to death of what will happen next, she doesn’t understand why she must leave her village to go someplace far away; she, like many other kulaks and other “undesirables,” are being exiled, though no one will say where they’re headed. But what Zuleikha and her companions don’t realize is that they’ve just been handed a ticket to freedom. The rest of the novel shows how that happens, to what degree, and how much happiness, if any, they derive from living at the ends of the earth.
Aside from her ability to work her fingers to the bone, because that’s what life demands, Zuleikha has a fatalistic outlook that will stand her in good stead. Other notable characters include a demented doctor who’s somehow a capable clinician; the camp lickspittle, a truly despicable sort who always bobs up like a cork, no matter who pushes him down; and a couple members of the intelligentsia, city slickers who’ve seen Paris, not just Leningrad or Moscow. The camp commandant, who killed Murtaza and has a thing for Zuleikha’s green eyes, comes to feel for his charges, though he can’t say so or even let himself think it. For all these, banishment to Siberia spares them from worse punishment, for the camp is a backwater, where purges don’t reach.
You just know that these people, had they remained where they were, would have been swept up by the secret police, even—especially—the commandant. For the longest time, he resents his posting, in his pride mistakenly thinking that the bureaucracy has shunted him aside, after all his many accomplishments. The political message comes through loud and clear, though Yakhina never spells it out: here’s a cross-section of people who, for better and worse, built the Soviet state, receiving no thanks for their pains and, more often, a whip across the face.
Zuleikha has a touch of the fairytale—witness the demented doctor who remembers a remarkable amount of his training—yet reality takes front and center. In fact, when the pain of what he experiences penetrates his consciousness, he has the persistent fantasy that he’s living inside an eggshell, which shields him from the suffering all around and allows him to exist. So even when Yakhina surrenders to gauzy fantasies, she tries to twist them, make them her own.
You won’t recognize Solzhenitsyn’s gulag in her Siberian camp, though many exiles die from the harsh atmosphere and poor food. She’s more interested in the survivors, who find skills or character traits they didn’t know they had. In this, Zuleikha is Exhibit A. Her acquisition of a spine is a marvelous transformation to behold, and Yakhina’s careful not to let her consummate masochist turn into a different person altogether.
Nevertheless, at times I wonder whether our heroine would be able to achieve what her creator intends, even less that Zuleikha feels drawn to the commandant, who killed her husband, after all — though, to be fair, her sense of attraction causes her guilt.
Overall, however, Zuleikha is an excellent novel, a first novel, surprisingly, full of rich, evocative prose, sharp political commentary, and a story cast against type. show less
But prophecy isn’t her chief talent, for the Soviet administration has decided that kulaks — landowning peasants, like the Valievs — are enemies of the state. And when soldiers come for their grain, livestock, and butter to feed the city populace, Murtaza fights back and dies for it.
Good riddance, you think. But Zuleikha has believed every harsh word ever spoken to her and figures that Allah has marked her for punishment. Scared to death of what will happen next, she doesn’t understand why she must leave her village to go someplace far away; she, like many other kulaks and other “undesirables,” are being exiled, though no one will say where they’re headed. But what Zuleikha and her companions don’t realize is that they’ve just been handed a ticket to freedom. The rest of the novel shows how that happens, to what degree, and how much happiness, if any, they derive from living at the ends of the earth.
Aside from her ability to work her fingers to the bone, because that’s what life demands, Zuleikha has a fatalistic outlook that will stand her in good stead. Other notable characters include a demented doctor who’s somehow a capable clinician; the camp lickspittle, a truly despicable sort who always bobs up like a cork, no matter who pushes him down; and a couple members of the intelligentsia, city slickers who’ve seen Paris, not just Leningrad or Moscow. The camp commandant, who killed Murtaza and has a thing for Zuleikha’s green eyes, comes to feel for his charges, though he can’t say so or even let himself think it. For all these, banishment to Siberia spares them from worse punishment, for the camp is a backwater, where purges don’t reach.
You just know that these people, had they remained where they were, would have been swept up by the secret police, even—especially—the commandant. For the longest time, he resents his posting, in his pride mistakenly thinking that the bureaucracy has shunted him aside, after all his many accomplishments. The political message comes through loud and clear, though Yakhina never spells it out: here’s a cross-section of people who, for better and worse, built the Soviet state, receiving no thanks for their pains and, more often, a whip across the face.
Zuleikha has a touch of the fairytale—witness the demented doctor who remembers a remarkable amount of his training—yet reality takes front and center. In fact, when the pain of what he experiences penetrates his consciousness, he has the persistent fantasy that he’s living inside an eggshell, which shields him from the suffering all around and allows him to exist. So even when Yakhina surrenders to gauzy fantasies, she tries to twist them, make them her own.
You won’t recognize Solzhenitsyn’s gulag in her Siberian camp, though many exiles die from the harsh atmosphere and poor food. She’s more interested in the survivors, who find skills or character traits they didn’t know they had. In this, Zuleikha is Exhibit A. Her acquisition of a spine is a marvelous transformation to behold, and Yakhina’s careful not to let her consummate masochist turn into a different person altogether.
Nevertheless, at times I wonder whether our heroine would be able to achieve what her creator intends, even less that Zuleikha feels drawn to the commandant, who killed her husband, after all — though, to be fair, her sense of attraction causes her guilt.
Overall, however, Zuleikha is an excellent novel, a first novel, surprisingly, full of rich, evocative prose, sharp political commentary, and a story cast against type. show less
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