Occasionally I will hear someone say, “I never read nonfiction.” This surprises me because nonfiction is usually so safe. You know what the subject matter of the book is when you pick it up. Even if the writing is poor, there’s a chance you will learn something. If the writing is poor and the content is worthless, then you’ve made no big imaginative investment; let it go and pick up the next one.
Occasionally I will hear someone say, “I never read nonfiction.” This surprises me because nonfiction is usually so safe. You know what the subject matter of the book is when you pick it up. Even if the writing is poor, there’s a chance you will learn something. If the writing is poor and the content is worthless, then you’ve made no big imaginative investment; let it go and pick up the next one.Fiction is quite the opposite. Someone might say, “This book is about the Russian Revolution, but not really, it’s about a lot of other things, too.” The jacket might assure you that this is the “best and most original book” in years. That’s a pretty large claim. The author may be one whose work you’ve enjoyed before, but that’s no guarantee. He or she might be a complete newcomer. You’re taking a big chance when you take home a work of fiction.
So it was with these sort of pathological misgivings that I borrowed my friend’s copy of The People’s Act of Love. I felt I had heard a lot about it in the past year (it was nominated for the Booker Prize) and yet I didn’t have a firm grasp of what it was about. My friend couldn’t really tell me either, but she urged me to read it. And now I’m urging you to read it.
If you like a story with a grand sweep, an unsentimental eye, and beautiful language, you will love the story of the village of Yazyk in Siberia, home to a widow and her son, a cult of religious fanatics, and the newly created Czech Army. As the village awaits the arrival of revolutionaries, a stranger arrives, claiming he has escaped from an infamous prison camp known as the White Palace. He also claims he is being followed by a cannibal. People begin dying in mysterious circumstances, and the hidden cords that bind the villagers in secret alliances are revealed and tested.
While the story hurtles you along, linger just long enough to appreciate Meek’s language. The People’s Act of Love reads like a modern translation of a Russian novel, a tribute to Meek’s dedication to the Russian language and culture, though he writes in English. There is no one passage I can pull to illustrate the style; there are too many surprises to spoil. Take a chance, pick up the book, and become immersed in the dream-world of Samarin, Anna, and Mutz.
You had me at “claims he is being followed by a cannibal.”