Even though I’ve only read a few works of Russian literature (mostly the most well-known of Tolstoy and Dostoevsky’s novels), I thought The Possessed sounded interesting and that I might learn a little about Russian literature. What I didn’t expect was to be so entertained throughout this account of Batuman’s gradute years studying Russian literature.
If you think about it, the subject matter of The Possessed (the name comes from an alternative translation of Dostoevsky’s Demons) doesn’t sound all that interesting. It’s not really a look into Russian literature, per se, but is more an account of what it means to study literature as Batuman goes on research trips and spends a summer in Uzbekistan studying the language. I never really got the relationship between her time in Uzbekistan and Russian literature, apart from the fact that it all happened during her graduate years, but this was such an entertaining book that I didn’t mind at all. I actually laughed out loud at some of the passages, which was surprising given that Where You’d Go, Bernadette didn’t elicit a single chuckle – though I was entertained by the book – and that was billed as humour.
My favourite chapter was, probably quite predictably, the one on Tolstoy. The Tolstoy scholars are all eccentric and passionate about their field of study and it really shines through. Plus, Tolstoy is the one author mentioned here that I am vaguely familiar with, so learning about his family life and the contentious nature of his will was fascinating to me as well.
The Samarkand chapters, while a little disconnected from the rest of the book, were very vividly written and I found that I enjoyed them. Perhaps I wouldn’t if I was expected only to read about Russian and Russian works, but I wasn’t really sure what this book was about and ended up enjoying this detour to Uzbekistan. I really liked this quote from a passage that discusses why Batuman is studying Russian instead of Turkish literature:
“I now understand that love is a rare and valuable thing, and you don’t get to choose its object. You just go around getting hung up on all the least convenient things – and if the only obstacle in your way is a little extra work, then that’s the wonderful gift right there.”
What a wonderful way to approach research and what you choose to study. Plus, it’s probably applicable for most of the things we decide to work at.
What I have taken from this book are two things: First, It would be very cool to learn Russian – I half-regret not choosing it as my other foreign language back in university. Second, It would be interesting to read more Russian literature. The works sound intimidating, given the difference in culture and language, but the passion in this book by Batuman and the other researchers is infectious and I find that I would like to experience some of the love they have for these works.