A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian – Marina Lewycka                  8/10

Lewycka’s debut novel is the story of an elderly, widowed father Nikolai Mayevskyj and his two daughters Vera and Nadezhda, our narrator. Two years after his wife’s death Nikolai plans to marry a glamorous, young Ukrainian woman, Valentina, who is 50 years his junior and trying to obtain UK citizenship. The book details the ensuing events and the reactions of each of the characters, particularly the two sisters who were at one time estranged, but now come together to face a common enemy in Valentina.

The novel is a treatment of family interaction and especially how the desires or actions of one family member influence the others. The two sisters, and indeed the reader, are able to see at once that Valentina is little more than a gold digger, after any money she believes Nikolai has, as well as a UK passport and has no genuine feelings for him. Nadezhda routinely faces a conflict of emotions between happiness for her father who is besotted, and distrust of this women who is 10 years younger than she is even, and clearly taking her father for a ride.

At once it is easy to see why this novel has been a commercial success. Lewycka’s writing style is eminently readable, with short paragraphs that always feel they are the end of a passage before another one breaks, drawing the reader in.

The characterisations are strong, but stereotypical. Are all Eastern Europeans short tempered and irrational? In this book they are! But that is part of the charm and is certainly the driving force behind the comedy which is well thought out, if almost slapstick in exaggeration at times, yet very enjoyable. The non-Ukrainian characters such as Nadeshda’s husband Mike, or Nikolai’s grandchildren really take a back seat role, they are almost faceless in comparison to the overtly outrageous Ukrainians.

For the most part the book is a dark comedy. It is the comedy of a family bickering, which is something all readers can relate to, but there is love in the family too and these counteracting forces make the family real. The descriptions of Valentina are deliberately outrageous, her ample bosom is mentioned on numerous occasions and the way in which she manipulates the various male citizens of Peterborough is farcical. Nikolai is a great comic character too, eccentric to the core in his home made nightshirt and ‘Toshiba’ micro-waved apples. Yet there is intelligence about both of them, Valentina’s is perhaps conniving and Nikolai’s is driven by engineering, but they are real.

There are some sombre moments too though; the book is tapped with emotion, particularly the Christmas day scene at the Indian restaurant which is complete with no heating, poorly cooked food, a leering waiter and leaves the reader feeling stark about this family’s chances of happiness.

Interspersed throughout the tale are extracts from the book Nikolai is writing ‘A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian’, which are less about actual tractors and more about history and sociology. These passages are used to add weight to the sub-plot between the two sisters as they reconcile with each other through Nadezhda learning more about her family history.

The Mayevskyj family history is very much intertwined with that of early twentieth century Ukraine. Lewycka wants the reader to learn more about her country of origin, complete with hardships from the past and the social-economic crisis that Ukraine is in currently. Britain is praised as a safe haven of multiculturalism and whilst the book probably steers away from our own insecurities with immigration, it is a subject that is touched upon and our society is viewed as mature and one of rational law.

The book is a triumph of believable characterisation and I thoroughly recommend it. Even if the ending is perhaps a little predictable, the comic nature of the tale left me smiling. It is not rolling in the aisles funny, but then I don’t think it set out to be.

The Swan Thieves – Elizabeth Kostova                                2/10

This is the story of a famous, yet troubled artist (Robert Oliver) who attacks a painting and the psychiatrist (Andrew Marlow) who attempts to understand why. In doing so, he delves further and further into Oliver’s life, by reaching out to the people who are important to him.

Oliver is the troubled genius who, having suffered some kind of breakdown that is not at first identifiable, manages to baffle even the accomplished psychiatrist Marlow, by remaining mute for large parts of their time together.

In order to unlock Oliver’s condition, Marlow embarks on various travels to meet the women that have played instrumental roles in the artist’s life. In doing so the reader experiences a variety of different perspectives as the narrative switches between the important characters in the tale. One chapter is given to Marlow for example, then the next two belong to Oliver’s ex-wife, then we go back in time to nineteenth century impressionist France and so on.

If the first 100 or so pages of this proved refreshing, then the next 500 pages prove to be mind-numbing. In what I suppose is an effort to create the impact of mental illness on relationships, the reader is subjected to an almost blow by blow account of the Oliver’s early relationship and then married life, then un-married life, the majority of which is really not necessary to the story.

The same can be said of Oliver’s mistress Mary and the lengthy passages that are attributed to her. As more and more of the novel is taken over by unimportant description, the pace of the tale starts to wane and eventually it becomes a chore. One scene stands out in my mind as the epitome of this pointlessness; Mary is describing a morning in her life some years earlier, down to the detail of how she folded her sweater and what she ate for breakfast. Not only is it unbelievable that someone would remember those inconsequential things, they are exactly that: inconsequential.

There are also a couple of chapters given to a trip Marlow takes to visit his father. I suppose if I thought hard enough about it I could attribute this part of the book to some sort of journey into his own past, to look for answers and advice from his father as a mentor, the whole section being a search for reassurance and parental instruction perhaps. I don’t want to think that hard about it though because it’s not worth it.

I think some of my disappointment might have stemmed from the realisation that this book is far less of a thriller than it tries to be (and is billed as) and actually is far more of a love story. Not a good love story at that either. Kostova tries to make the love stories of the present mirror the love story of the 1870s, but rather than being clever, it is just boring.

Added to this is the rather disappointing realisation that every character is the same, bar Oliver who sadly, doesn’t feature nearly enough. When he does feature it is mostly through the eyes of the people who surround him, and they all perceive him in exactly the same way, which rather defeats the point of having all these different perspectives. Or maybe that is the point, in which case it has been handled badly.

I suppose it is fair enough to assume that people who like similar interests will become friends, lovers and even patients of certain psychiatrists (Oliver is handed over to Marlow because he is a known art lover) but Kostova really doesn’t try very hard to distinguish between the individuals in her tale. They all spend every minute of their spare time painting, they all have paint under their nails that they cannot scrub off and all they ever seem to eat is soup.

One delightful customer review I read online had this to say about the characters, which I think sums up my thoughts rather well: “Every single character was an annoying, pompous, jackass and I hope they all die horribly.”

I liked the idea of this book, but I was really disappointed with the execution. It’s certainly not one I would recommend and in the past I would have stopped reading before the end, but only carried on so I could finish this review. Apparently her first book, The Historian, is much better.