Journey Into the Mind's Eye: Fragments of an Autobiography

An utterly original book that can't really be described as a travelogue or autobiography, since much of it is based on imagination, recollections of childhood and romance.
It is, predominantly, a homage to Russia. The author, brought up in a traditional English home, is early awakened to the magic of this realm by a mystical family friend- referred to only as 'The Traveller'. In visits, letters, gifts and books, he arouses in the child a life-long obsession with the country - a feeling that is undoubtedly tied up with her growing feelings for the man himself.
The vividness of the dream world he evokes informs her life. As the child-adult friendship develops to a love affair, sojourns in France together only come top life as she finds show more elements of Russian culture there.
And finally - after their relationship has ended- she manages to visit communist russia - alone. Yet the shade of the Traveller hangs over everything.
Quite magical andd utterly romantic. I can quite identify with her quote from Vernon Lee that "there are moments in all our lives, most often. alas! during childhood; when we possess the mystic gift of consecration, of steeping things in our soul's essence, and making them thereby different from all others, forever sovereign, and sacred to us." show less

This book is a sort of memoir - the subtitle is "Fragments of an autobiography" - but one filtered entirely through the author's obsession with Russia. Her first marriage, for example, is dismissed in a sentence, noting only that her husband had no connections with Russia.

The first part of the book deals with her childhood, and in particular a friend of her parents - a Russian who she calls only The Traveller, larger-than-life, mysterious, highly charismatic and full of glamorously romantic stories about his homeland. She is devoted to and dazzled by him and resolves to learn everything she can about Russia - and especially Siberia. This section of the book is extremely funny, as she tries to mesh her obsessions with daily life in an show more upper-class English household in the 1920s. She goes through a phase of putting butter in her tea, and at one point refuses a slice of watermelon, telling her parents how in some Russian villages it was considered unlucky because it looked like the severed head of John the Baptist.

Of course, even in the 1920s the image of Russia that she was cherishing was already a lost world. And when Lesley grows up, and the Traveller leaves her life, the twin obstacles of Soviet bureaucracy and her lack of finances prevent her from trying to travel to her heart's homeland - even when she makes it to Russia, Siberia is a step too far. This section of the book is, inevitably, less interesting, and is not quite redeemed even when she makes the long-awaited Trans-Siberian voyage.

Sample: 'Every woman should marry three times' had been one of his dictums, which he often impressed on me. 'Marry first for love - get it out of your system - next for money - get that into your pocket and then marry for pleasure, which has nothing whatever to do with love or money'. At the time I thought this a puzzling statement, but in perspective, I see it contains much truth.

Recommended for: the first part of the book would be enjoyed by anyone who likes eccentric period childhoods, such as that of the Mitfords (who were apparently acquaintances of hers), or who likes tall traveller's tales. The second part, probably only by those with a keen interest in either Russia or monomania. show less

This touches on the USSR, but it is really about Russia -- the Russia that is part western, and much more so eastern. It's about Russian history and folklore, about love, about being passionate, and about living life with a longing that never stops, and that feeling of longing is evoked in the reader -- at least in this one. It's a wonderful and unusual book.
An interesting profile on Blanch: https://www.theguardian.com/books/2005/jul/09/featuresreviews.guardianreview22