CHEVENGUR

A splendidly subversive tale of the Russian Revolution and civil war from the great laureate of the working class.

It’s astounding that Stalin, after reading Platonov and scrawling “Bastard” on one page, allowed him to escape the Gulag. Platonov’s town of Chevengur slumbers on Russia’s high steppes, where crops fail and peasants leave their farms to seek work in the cities and mines, while a few holdovers resort to “eating raw grass, clay, and bark.” Into this region, ripe for revolution, is born the Christlike Sasha Dvanov, whose father has committed suicide just to see what the afterlife is like. God appears in Platonov’s vivid novel; so does Lenin, and so does a revolutionary Don Quixote who worships the late Bolshevik icon Rosa Luxemburg, on whose behalf he swears vengeance for her assassination. This Kopionkin, whose name means “spear,” is a man of action, while Sasha speaks of big dreams: “Cultured plants will make the earth brighter and more clearly visible from other planets,” he instructs a commissar named, yes, Fyodor Dostoevsky. “And then, the circulation of moisture will increase. The sky will become bluer and more transparent!” Communism isn’t born on the land quite so seamlessly. Instead, civil war breaks out, Kopionkin riding out to meet the enemy on a Rocinante named “Strength of the Proletariat,” a horse that, he growls, has “more revolutionary consciousness than any of you.” People starve, careful plans disintegrate, Bolshevik leaders admit to never having read Marx, and the masses falter: “The communism of Chevengur was defenseless during these dark steppe hours, since people had temporarily curtailed their convictions, allowing the power of sleep to heal the exhaustion occasioned by their inner life of the previous day.” All are all too human in the face of this strange new ideology, which, Platonov daringly makes clear, is as much religious as political.

A superb work of Soviet-era Russian literature in a welcome, well-annotated new translation.