Several weeks ago in a post I wrote about Robert Conquest I referred to “the essential books published in the twentieth century,” and listed some of the titles deserving a place in that category. Most, I wrote, “are not found in the traditionally defined literary categories; that is, novels, poetry, plays. They tend to be histories and memoirs, most related to communism.” A reader asked for specifics. Here’s a strictly personal list of books I have read, not intended to be definitive, and limited to one title per writer:
Alexander Solzhenitsyn,
The Gulag Archipelago
Vasily
Grossman: Life and Fate
Aleksander
Wat: My Century
Vladimir
Nabokov: Speak, Memory
Whitaker
Chambers: Witness
Primo Levi: If This Is a Man (or Survival in Auschwitz)
Czesław Miłosz: The Captive Mind
Eugenia
Ginzburg: Journey into the Whirlwind
Tadeusz
Borowski: Here in Our Auschwitz and Other
Stories
Zbigniew Herbert: Report from the Besieged City and Other Poems
Osip
Mandelstam: The Prose of Osip Mandelstam
Armando Valladares:
Against All Hope
Varlam Shalamov: Kolyma Stories and Sketches of the Criminal World: Further Kolyma Stories
Arthur Koestler:
Darkness at Noon
Józef
Czapski: Inhuman Land
I have not
included volumes produced by historians, in favor of those from the category formerly known as belles-lettres. Most of these writers produced other books worth
pursuing. Obviously, you would want to read Mandelstam’s poetry, his most essential work.
Virtually everything Solzhenitsyn wrote is useful. There are totalitarian
regimes – China, Vietnam – whose witnesses I have never read. Just to eliminate
ambiguity, I’ll note that plenty of other “essential books” were written in the
twentieth century, starting with one title – In Search of Lost Time. I’m dealing here with books written in
response to a century of unprecedented barbarism. And the same abattoir remains in
business in the twenty-first. Another reader made an excellent suggestion –
Rebecca West’s Black Lamb and Grey Falcon,
which deals with neither Nazis nor communists.
In an exclusive
category are the memoirs of Nadezhda Mandelstam: Hope Against Hope (1970) and Hope
Abandoned (1974), both translated by Max Hayward. She was Osip’s widow. The
poet died in one of Stalin’s camps on December 27, 1938. If I could mandate the
reading of any writer on this makeshift list, it would be Nadezhda. Her voice
is harsh, intelligent, defiant, uncompromising and occasionally even funny. Her
first name in Russian means “hope,” an irony she often plays with. In a chapter
titled “Major Forms” in Hope Abandoned
she writes:
“In our
conditions it is inadvisable to let one’s mind dwell on the future. The future
spells only disaster and casts its shadow on the present; it poisons your life,
grips you by the throat in paroxysms of terror, drains away your strength and
your very life’s blood. It is fatal to start feeling afraid beforehand. . . .
Even now, if I were to start thinking
about the future, I would sink into total lethargy—despite the fact the present
is like paradise compared with the past. But, of course, on this large planet
of ours ‘paradise’ is a relative concept. Some pampered people might take our
paradise for nothing less than hell on earth. It all depends on what you compare it
with and what you take as your base of comparison. Optimists like me start off the
period before the Boss’s death [Stalin, 1953] until the Twentieth Congress [the
much-touted “thaw” of 1956, following Khrushchev’s speech to the 20th Party
Congress].”
Nadezhda Mandelstam died on this date, December 29, in 1980, age eighty-one.
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