Anna L. (annalovesbooks) reviewed Stalin's Children: Three Generations of Love, War, and Survival on
Helpful Score: 1
ISBN 0802717144 - Stalin's Children had several things going for me, even before I opened it. I'm very into genealogy, a huge fan of family histories and history, and I suffer from a lifelong fascination with Russia. Clearly, I was pre-disposed to like this book a great deal.
Owen Matthews feels a much stronger tie to his mother's Russian roots than his father's Welsh ones (which is mostly interesting because it appears that his father shares that). His grandfather, Boris Bibikov, was a good Party man whose family seems to have been on the verge of spiraling out of control even before the Party arrested and killed him for anti-Communist activities. His wife and two daughters are separated from each other by circumstances and have the good luck, one of the very few times the family's luck is good, to find one another again, years later. By then, Lyudmila, his younger daughter, appeared to be the more broken of his two children, but that appearance was shattered when she fell in love with Mervyn Matthews and had to fight harder for that love than most people ever have to fight for anything. The very existence of the book, and the author, is an answer to who won that battle.
Matthews' story wanders from past to present and back again repeatedly. It would perhaps be poetic - and true - to say that the two are permanently entwined, inseparable, linked together by family and the love story that runs like a bloodline between the author and the grandfather he never knew. I personally didnt find it that poetic; for me, the meandering between decades was somewhat annoying. By the time I'd become invested in, for example, the gray, dreary and painful story of Lenina and Lyudmila in the orphanage, the focus had changed and they were shuffled to the back burner while I was given a peek at the overly-bright, aimlessly decadent Russia in the 1990s. Both stories are fascinating and worth reading, but reading them in snippets between snippets of each other just didn't thrill me.
That aside, the book is hard to put down and an incredible story. The only thing I'd rather have read would be Mervyn's memoirs, which Matthews mentions several times. His son's writing gives only a vague sense of who he is, surprisingly. Based on the book, he's just an average student and/or embassy employee who happened to be approached by more than one agency - including the KGB. While the Russian angle is compelling, it is a terrific shame that Mervyn, who seems to have lived the life of intrigue that the son Boris Bibikov never had would have led, is never really brought into focus. For that, go hunt down his books: Mervyn's Lot ISBN 1854113194, Mila and Mervuysa ISBN 1854112597 and his other books, more scholarly, less personal but all focused on the country who gave him his wife - eventually.
- AnnaLovesBooks
Owen Matthews feels a much stronger tie to his mother's Russian roots than his father's Welsh ones (which is mostly interesting because it appears that his father shares that). His grandfather, Boris Bibikov, was a good Party man whose family seems to have been on the verge of spiraling out of control even before the Party arrested and killed him for anti-Communist activities. His wife and two daughters are separated from each other by circumstances and have the good luck, one of the very few times the family's luck is good, to find one another again, years later. By then, Lyudmila, his younger daughter, appeared to be the more broken of his two children, but that appearance was shattered when she fell in love with Mervyn Matthews and had to fight harder for that love than most people ever have to fight for anything. The very existence of the book, and the author, is an answer to who won that battle.
Matthews' story wanders from past to present and back again repeatedly. It would perhaps be poetic - and true - to say that the two are permanently entwined, inseparable, linked together by family and the love story that runs like a bloodline between the author and the grandfather he never knew. I personally didnt find it that poetic; for me, the meandering between decades was somewhat annoying. By the time I'd become invested in, for example, the gray, dreary and painful story of Lenina and Lyudmila in the orphanage, the focus had changed and they were shuffled to the back burner while I was given a peek at the overly-bright, aimlessly decadent Russia in the 1990s. Both stories are fascinating and worth reading, but reading them in snippets between snippets of each other just didn't thrill me.
That aside, the book is hard to put down and an incredible story. The only thing I'd rather have read would be Mervyn's memoirs, which Matthews mentions several times. His son's writing gives only a vague sense of who he is, surprisingly. Based on the book, he's just an average student and/or embassy employee who happened to be approached by more than one agency - including the KGB. While the Russian angle is compelling, it is a terrific shame that Mervyn, who seems to have lived the life of intrigue that the son Boris Bibikov never had would have led, is never really brought into focus. For that, go hunt down his books: Mervyn's Lot ISBN 1854113194, Mila and Mervuysa ISBN 1854112597 and his other books, more scholarly, less personal but all focused on the country who gave him his wife - eventually.
- AnnaLovesBooks
