My Childhood

This review is for the entire trilogy 'My Childhood', 'My Apprenticeship', and 'My Universities'

When one thinks about Russian classical literature, two names invariably pop up: Dostoevsky and Tolstoy. Often somebody would mention Chekhov in the same breath, some would rightly point out that Pushkin deserves his place on the pedestal, others would insist that Turgenev should be put side-by-side with his two most recognized contemporaries.

Ever since I read 'My Childhood' by Maxim Gorky, the first part of his autobiographic trilogy, the trio of Russian giants was firmly established for me : Dostoevsky, Gorky, Tolstoy - in that order.

The first sentence of this book sets the tone:

"Father lay on the floor, by the window of a small, darkened show more room, dressed in white, and looking terribly long. His feet were bare and his toes were strangely splayed out. His gentle fingers, now peacefully resting on his chest, were also distorted, and the black discs of copper coins firmly sealed his once shining eyes. His kind face had darkened and its nastily bared teeth frightened me"

I did not misspeak - this is one sentence in Russian, fittingly broken up by Ronald Wilks in his English translation (which is supposed to be quite good).

Already after reading this you realize that you are in for something unusual. The book never lets up, it holds you firmly in its grip, you are bound to remember some passages long after the book is closed and put away.

The pen name of the author - Gorky - translates from Russian as 'bitter' and you will get to taste the bitterness when you read this trilogy. Deaths are scattered around the pages, they are noted and recounted in a matter-of-fact voice of a child as regular, commonplace events. But it is not all doom and gloom, the darkness is followed by light and some of the most memorable passages are filled with tenderness and joy.

“For sadness and gladness live within us side by side, almost inseparable; the one succeeding the other with an elusive, inappreciable swiftness.”

“In recalling my childhood I like to picture myself as a beehive to which various simple obscure people brought the honey of their knowledge and thoughts on life, generously enriching my character with their own experience. Often this honey was dirty and bitter, but every scrap of knowledge was honey all the same.”

It is these "simple obscure people" that light the pages of the book. Uneducated, uncouth, rough and often violent these people from the end of the 19th century Russia come alive in short but precise descriptions of the writer at the height of his powers. It is rare to find character sketches so economically executed and yet so complete.

The main two characters are of course grandmother and grandfather of the little Alexei, seemingly representing two opposing forces shaping up his life, leaving the traces of warmth and the scars of anger behind. At the age of fourteen Alexei has to quit his grandparents' home to earn his living.

The second book is translated as 'My Apprenticeship' or 'In the World' and here the voice of a teenager, hardened beyond his years, picks up where the voice of a child left off. Dissatisfied with what he sees around him Alexei aims to break free from this monotonous existence and finds his release in books, in words. He sees education as the only way out.

The third book 'My Universities', probably the weakest of the three, was written seven years after the first two. Alexei meets with students, idealists with a revolutionary agenda. However, he is disillusioned, having lived through the torture of his young years he no longer believes in the inherent goodness of people. There is less hope and more bitterness in this book, probably reflecting the writer's state of mind while in exile. The book ends with Alexei leaving on an aimless journey on foot across Russia that would last for five years.

Gorky was initially extremely critical of the Soviets and personally of Lenin. He eventually returned from his exile in Italy to Soviet Russia and seemingly accepted the ideology of the regime. He was most likely killed by Stalin's thugs. show less

'My Childhood' by Maxim Gorky was published 60 years after Tolstoy's 'Childhood' and they make fascinating companion pieces. It is not Tolstoy's gentille, educated society, where money is only hinted at as a source of both pride and shame -- it is the coarse, hardscrabble world of the trade and lower classes. Children are not protected, but beaten to within an inch of their life as a matter of course. Drunkenness is expected and greed, prejudice and envy are commonplace.

Gorky knew this world well, and his memoirs (his protagonist uses Gorky's real name) are both agonizing and lyrical. His descriptions of place and characters are so deftly drawn that one feels as if he had included pictures in the book. Gorky manages to show us the love show more he felt for his grandmother, a gifted storyteller, but also towards his grandfather, a brutal and miserly man, who nevertheless taught Alexei to read, and supported his family as best he could, for as long as he could.

A wonderful and terrifying book. Highly recommended. show less

I bought this, and My Apprenticeship from a second hand bookstore because I have enjoyed most of the Russian literature I have read up to this point. It was my first work by Gorky and apart from recognising his name I knew nothing about him or his work. This book covers his early life living and growing up in a hard family environment and it is the first part of an autobiographical trilogy.

Being a book originally written in a language other than English a lot rides on the quality of the translation. I tend to favour Penguin Classics because in my experience their translations are better than some of the cheaper alternatives there. Whether this is down to a long history working with translators or something else entirely, I cannot say, show more however, I was a little concerned that my edition, being published in 1966, may not have been up to scratch. In the end my concern came to nothing, the translation is superb and the introduction by the translator serves as a very good taste of Gorky's life and work.

The book itself is quite harrowing when compared to modern life, especially considering that we are seeing it all through the eyes of a child. Life for normal Russians was extremely hard and this results in family feuds, regular beatings, petty theft and a whole host of infections and diseases. The fact that Gorky is able to recall this so well many years later is very impressive especially as he maintains the innocence that would be experienced by a child. In the early pages he is speaking about his father's funeral and his inability to gasp the seriousness of the situation. Despite the hard times there are some moments of joy, in particular the time spent listening to his grandmother's stories. He also forges some very strong friendships which form the most important relationships outside his immediate family. The writing is relatively easy to read and I really enjoyed my time spent with this book. show less

If you're looking for a plot of any kind, don't read this book.

With that said, this book celebrates the beauty of nature and at the same time indifferently reveals the often senseless cruelty of humans. Gorky--a celebrated Russian writer--writes autobiographically of his childhood with his Grandfather, Grandmother, and Mother. His mother is an absent figure for most of Gorky's childhood, be it physically or emotionally. His Grandfather is a practical man, stubborn, and violently abusive.

Grandmother is one of the two reasons this book holds value to me. She is the classic "wise old woman" figure in literature: accepting, loving, respected, and, of course, wise. She prays to her own mystical God, and this is what brings the story its show more praise of nature. Grandmother's God is a pagan god of sorts; he lives in the trees' branches as they flow in the wind, or in the blooming of the flower, or in the kindness of Gorky himself as a child. Gorky's writing on this topic lends itself naturally to the reader's fuller appreciation of these things, even if you may not (as I didn't) view them as "filled with God" but rather simply as beautiful.

Another facet of this novel that I enjoyed was Gorky's message: that, though Russia's lower classes may be riddled with violence and senseless, harmful actions, they hold infinite promise and wellness of heart deep within them. That Russian culture has spawned a generation of dynamic individuals that are in the midst a huge possibility of change. Though he doesn't quite state this outright, it came through to me as I read his autobiography.

I didn't rate this higher because it bored me to no end. It simply went nowhere. Gorky goes back and forth from his Grandfather's, to his Mother's; they move from one boarding house to another; he gets in trouble in one school and two pages later he's in a childish street gang, only seven pages later to be top student; I found it all hard and somewhat useless to follow because, honestly, the plot never reached any sort of resolution for me. (Weird, too: for me it's been three books in a row that I haven't fallen into any sort of love with. Unusual!)

Overall, though, a good read, and a great insight into Gorky himself if you're a fan of his other writings. show less

Maxim Gorky, hailed as the father of Russian literature, shares his firsthand account of Russian life in the late nineteenth century in this book, the first of three memoirs he would produce. This beautiful, if tragic account, paints a window for the reader to peer through time into an era of struggle and despair, told in the dispassionate voice of a child. It reveals the both the resilience and the fortitude needed by the Russian people.

This is not a book with plot, action or humor. What it is is a series of eloquent descriptions and hard realism, laced with priceless Russian fairy tales, folklore and songs as told to Gorky by his Grandmother. It is a quick read, and one I'd recommend to those interested in memoir, history, realism, show more and to writers. Five stars. show less

Amazing insight into the mechanics of a tough, poor society. The perspective of a child has never been so blood chilling. An exquisite read.

I read this book in Russian--and a fairly simple Russian it was, as I recall. From Maxim Gorky's Trilogy, (Moskva, 1975), Детство (this book) began it, followed by "Among the People," and "My University." One sentence I admire, even aspire to: at his father's grave he did not cry. "Я плакал редко и толко от обиды, ни от боли" (17) I cry very rarely, and only from insults or outrages, never from suffering or pain. Moreover, his father would laugh at his tears.
When his bereaved mother comes on deck to see her own mother singing Aida to vodka-smashed sailors, Mother says, "They're laughing at you, Mamasha!" "God Bless them!" her mother replies, "Let them laugh...It's good for their health." (21)

This show more was decades ago, so what I principally recall is seeing Gorky's house on Capri! What a shock that this avatar of the simple life, this hero of socialist realism, this denizen of economic sequestration, actually lived in splendor quite a few years on the Isle of Capri (1906-13, before the Revolution, then again in the 1920s). Wrote one of his best novels there, at his own villa Pierina. A couple years ago, Capri named one of its streets for him, as did Norway, Maine for my grandfather, Ralph W Richardson. (Even has his middle initial.) show less