10.3726/85617_67
“Botanical Confusion” and the Strangeness of Language in Two Works by Olga Grushin
Julie Hansen
7KHQHZPLOOHQQLXPKDVVHHQWKHSXEOLFDWLRQRISRHWU\DQGSURVHÀFWLRQ by a new generation of Russian émigrés. These writers left the Soviet Union as children with their parents in the 1970s and 1980s, or as young adults around the time of the dissolution of the USSR in 1991. 1 A number of cir- cumstances distinguish this generation of Russian émigré writers from SUHYLRXVRQHV/LNHWKHÀUVWJHQHUDWLRQZKLFKHPLJUDWHGLQWKHZDNHRI the 1917 Revolution and witnessed the demise of tsarist Russia, the fourth generation comes from a country that has ceased to exist. Unlike the situa- tion during the Soviet period, however, emigration from Russia no longer FDUULHVWKHÀQDOLW\RIDRQHZD\WLFNHW,QDGGLWLRQKDYLQJHPLJUDWHGDWD young age, many of these contemporary writers received at least part of their education in a new language, and a considerable number of them write QRWLQWKHLUQDWLYH5XVVLDQEXWLQDQDFTXLUHGODQJXDJH8QOLNHPDQ\ZULW- ers from previous waves, who switched literary languages mid-career, this generation has been translingual from the outset. ,GHVFULEHWKHVHDXWKRUVDVWUDQVOLQJXDOй³йUDWKHUWKDQELOLQJXDOPXO- WLOLQJXDORUSRO\OLQJXDOй³йEHFDXVHLQP\YLHZWKLVWHUPFRLQHGE\6WHYHQ G. Kellman 2 , best conveys what these authors do with language. Their writ- ing exhibits a high degree of language play and punning, language mix- LQJ DQG FRGHVZLWFKLQJ 7KHLU WH[WV IUHTXHQWO\ FURVV OLQJXLVWLF ERUGHUV shuttling back and forth between languages like transnational commuters. Remarkable here is not only the impressive feat of writing literature in an
1 6FKRODUVKDYHGHOLQHDWHGWKUHHRUIRXUZDYHVRI5XVVLDQpPLJUpZULWHUV7KHÀUVWZDYH left Russia after the Bolshevik Revolution, the second left the Soviet Union in the wake of World War II, the third consisted primarily of Jewish and dissident émigrés in the 1970s, while the fourth wave took place after the dissolution of the Soviet Union. See, in particu- lar, Elizabeth Klosty Beaujour, Alien Tongues. Bilingual Russian Writers of the “First” Emigra- tion, Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1989, and Adrian Wanner, Out of Russia. Fictions of a New Translingual Diaspora, Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 2011. 2 6WHYHQ*.HOOPDQGHÀQHVOLWHUDU\WUDQVOLQJXDOLVPEURDGO\DV´WKHSKHQRPHQRQRIDX- thors who write in more than one language or at least in a language other than their prima- ry one.” Steven G. Kellman, The Translingual Imagination, Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2000, ix. He also uses the subcategories of “ambilinguals”, who have written literary works in more than one language, and “monolingual translinguals”, who write in one, non- native language. Kellman, The Translingual Imagination, 12.
Variations 22 / 2014 DFTXLUHGODQJXDJHEXWWKHYDULRXVZD\VLQZKLFKWKHVHDXWKRUVSXVKWKH limits of language, often bringing multiple tongues, both native and adopt- ed, into play simultaneously. Their novels, short stories and poems exude a consciousness of the contingency of language, but also a belief in the po- WHQWLDORIODQJXDJHWRGHSLFWWKHZRUOGLQVWULNLQJO\QHZZD\V)UHTXHQWO\ WKHHͿHFWLVZKDWWKH5XVVLDQ)RUPDOLVW9LNWRU6KNORYVN\WHUPHGostranenie, usually translated into English as “defamiliarization” or “estrangement”. 3 In his seminal essay “Art as Device”, Shklovsky explains, “By ‘estranging’ objects and complicating form, the device of art makes perception long and ‘laborious.’ The perceptual process in art has a purpose all its own and ought to be extended to the fullest”, 4 so that the reader can experience “the making of a thing.” 5 The presence of more than one language in a literary text undoubtedly complicates form, slowing down the reading process (or “perceptual process”, in Shklovsky’s words). As Kellman argues, “the work RIWUDQVOLQJXDOV>«@IRUHJURXQGVDQGFKDOOHQJHVLWVRZQPHGLXPй³йFUHDWHV WKHLPSHGLPHQWWRÁXHQF\WKDWLVWKHKDOOPDUNRIWKHDHVWKHWLFDFFRUGLQJWR 6KNORYVN\%RULV(LFKHQEDXPDQG-DQ0XNDʼnRYVNìµ 6 Language is intimately and intricately connected with culture, and WKXVWUDQVOLQJXDOLVPRIWHQHQWDLOVWUDQVFXOWXUDOLW\й³йWKHWHUPFRLQHGE\WKH philosopher Wolfgang Welsch to describe the ways in which the interaction RIGLͿHUHQWFXOWXUHVFDQOHDGWRWKHIRUPDWLRQRIQHZLGHQWLWLHV:HOVFKVHHV the concept of transculturality as more apt than traditional monological con- ceptions to describe the interactions of cultures in the contemporary world, which he argues are “largely characterized by mixes and permeations”. 7 As Adrian Wanner has shown in his study Out of Russia: Fictions of a New Translingual Diaspora, many contemporary Russian translingual writers have cultivated public personae that emphasize their Russian, and in some cases also Jewish, cultural backgrounds. Their depictions of immigrants’ reactions, adaptation and/or assimilation to North American culture con- tain autobiographical elements. “Part of the success of the various trans- lingual Russian writers”, Wanner argues, “can be attributed to the fact that WKHLUSURMHFWHG5XVVLDQLGHQWLWLHVKDYHEHHQWDLORUHGWRPHHWWKHVSHFLÀFGH-
3 As Alexandra Berlina has pointed out, Shklovsky’s ostranenie is a “meta-estranging neo- ORJLVPµZKLFKGLͿHUVIURP%HUWROW%UHFKW·VVerfremdung DQGKDVQRWEHHQDGHTXDWHO\WUDQV- lated into English. Alexandra Berlina, “Ostranenie and the Surreal in Translation”, paper presented at the conference “Translation in Russian Contexts: Transcultural, Translingual and Transdisciplinary Points of Departure”, Uppsala University, Sweden, 06. 06. 2014. 4 Viktor Shklovsky, “Art as Device”, in: Theory of Prose, translated from Russian by %HQMDPLQ6KHU1RUPDO 'DONH\$UFKLYH3UHVV й²й 5 Viktor Shklovskii, “Iskusstvo, kak priem”, in: Idem, O teorii prozy, Moskva: Federatsiia, й²й My translation. 6 Kellman, The Translingual Imagination, 29. 7 Wolfgang Welsch´7UDQVFXOWXUDOLW\йй²йй7KH3X]]OLQJ)RUPRI&XOWXUHV7RGD\µLQ Mike Featherstone and Scott Lash (eds.), Spaces of Culture. City, Nation, World, London: Sage, й²й
68 Julie Hansen mands of their respective host nations.” 8 The émigré status of these authors is foregrounded in publishers’ marketing of their books, leading some crit- LFVй³йHVSHFLDOO\5XVVLDQRQHVй³йWRVXJJHVWWKDWWKHLUZRUNVSHGGOHFXOWXUDO stereotypes, “a constructed ‘Russianness’ for foreign consumption.” 9 The Russian-American novelist Olga Grushin stands out from her peers in this respect, for although she writes in English, most of her works FRQWDLQVSHFLÀFDOO\5XVVLDQVHWWLQJVDQGFKDUDFWHUV*UXVKLQZDVERUQLQ 1971 in Moscow, where as a teenager she attended School No. 45, which was known for its English-language concentration and exposed her to works of anglophone literature that were not typically part of the Soviet school cur- riculum. After one year in Moscow State University’s journalism program, VKHDFFHSWHGDVFKRODUVKLSIURP(PRU\8QLYHUVLW\EHFRPLQJWKHÀUVW6R- viet citizen to receive a bachelor’s degree in the United States. She is now a naturalized American citizen (while retaining her Russian citizenship) and currently resides near Washington, D. C. Having aspired to become a writer since childhood, she made a decision in her early twenties to begin writing ÀFWLRQLQ(QJOLVKLQRUGHUWRLQFUHDVHKHUFKDQFHVRIJHWWLQJSXEOLVKHGLQ her adopted country. 10 In this article, I will consider translingual and transcultural aspects of two texts by Grushin: her autobiographical essay “In the Shade of a Cran- berry Tree” (2004), and her second novel The Line (2010). 11 I will exemplify some of the ways in which Grushin’s writing moves between linguistic, cultural and literary contexts, mixing and ultimately transcending them in original ways. Translingualism and transculturality in Grushin’s texts en- rich the reading process with ambiguity and complexity, ultimately serving to highlight language as a creative medium, to deconstruct cultural stereo- types and to integrate literary traditions. ,QDQLQWHUYLHZ*UXVKLQVWDWHVWKDWLQZULWLQJKHUÀUVWERRNVKHZDQW- ed to produce a “Russian novel in English words”. 12 Indeed, an awareness of her anglophone audience is apparent in passages where the author ap- pears to meet the reader halfway by incorporating contextual background or explanations of Russian cultural phenomena. The unlikelihood that such explanations would have been included had Grushin been writing IRUD5XVVLDQUHDGHUVKLSVHHPVWREHFRQÀUPHGE\WKHLURPLVVLRQIURPWKH
8 Wanner, Out of Russia, 190. 9 Wanner, Out of Russia, 3. 10 “Olga Grushin: National Book Festival 2010 Webcast”, Library of Congress Webcasts, http://www.loc.gov/today/cyberlc/feature_wdesc.php?rec=5020 (07. 09. 2011). 11 Grushin’s novel The Line was published in the United Kingdom under the title The Concert Ticket (2010). 12 Sergei Moskalev (30. 12. 2006), “Ol’ga Grushina. ‘Ia schitaiu sebia russkoi pisatel’nitsei’”, Voice of America, http://www.VoaNews.com (04. 12. 2009).
“Botanical Confusion” 69 Russian translation of The Dream Life of Sukhanov. 13 This raises interesting TXHVWLRQVFRQFHUQLQJERWKWKHUHDGHU·VFXOWXUDOFRPSHWHQFHDQGWKHUROHRI FXOWXUDOVWHUHRW\SHVLQWUDQVOLQJXDOÀFWLRQ
“In the Shade of a Cranberry Tree”
Cultural stereotypes are the focus of Grushin’s autobiographical essay “In WKH6KDGHRID&UDQEHUU\7UHHµZKLFKUHFRXQWVDÀYHGD\ERDWWRXUVKHWRRN with her father from Moscow to St. Petersburg. The other passengers are PRVWO\ YDFDWLRQLQJ UHWLUHHV IURP )UDQFH DQG 6SDLQй³йD FLUFXPVWDQFH WKDW arouses Grushin’s interest: “I was intensely curious to watch Russia un- IROGEHIRUHLWVÀUVWWLPHYLVLWRUVWRQRWHWKHLULPSUHVVLRQVWRVHHLWUHÁHFWHG in their eyes.” 14 The author’s curiosity, it is suggested, is heightened by her perspective as a visiting expatriate, having lived in the United States for thirteen years (G1, 239). Curiosity soon turns to disappointment, however: “as we sailed from town to town, there grew within me an unsettling reali- ]DWLRQWKDWÀQDOO\EHFDPHDVDGFHUWDLQW\7KH5XVVLDWKHVHIRUHLJQWRXULVWV were seeing was not at all the Russia I knew and loved” (G1, 240). In place RI´WKHWUXH5XVVLDµ * *UXVKLQÀQGV´HUXSWLRQVRINLWVFKµ * H[HPSOLÀHGVDWLULFDOO\E\WKHIRONVRQJ´.DOLQND0DOLQNDµVXQJad nauseam on the tour boat and the fake Fabergé eggs sold in souvenir stands. The essay shows cultural clichés to go both ways, however. It opens with Grushin’s admission that she had bought Martha Grimes’ novel The Stargazey as a present for her mother, an avid mystery reader, precisely be- FDXVHVKHH[SHFWHGLWWREH´ÀOOHGZLWKHFFHQWULF2[IRUGSURIHVVRUVWDFLWXUQ pastors, and nosy old aunts puttering about their rose gardens” (G1, 238). Grushin is surprised, then, to discover that the plot is set not in London, but St. Petersburg. As in her account of the river cruise, her curiosity is initially SLTXHGRQO\WREHGLVDSSRLQWHGE\VWHUHRW\SHVVXFKDVWKHIROORZLQJ
a dreary winter landscape complete with fog, ice, and overall gloominess, a discussion of the “Russian temperament,” a dead old woman in a babushka’s black scarf lying in the snow, and a restaurant, in rather improbable vicinity to the Winter Palace, where WKHP\VWHULRXVQDUUDWRUPDQIXOO\JXOSHGGRZQYRGNDDQGIHDVWHGRQVWXͿHGEUHDP following it up with blinchiki for dessert. (G1, 238)
13 For a discussion of Elena Petrova’s translation of The Dream Life of Sukhanov (Ol’ga Grushina, Zhizn’ Sukhanova v snovideniakh0RVFRZ ĒNVPR VHH-XOLHHansen, “Translating the Translingual Text: Olga Grushin’s Anglophone Novel The Dream Life of Sukhanov in Russian”, forthcoming in Translation and Interpreting Studies. 14 Olga Grushin, “In the Shade of a Cranberry Tree”, Michigan Quarterly Review 43/2 й²й> *@
70 Julie Hansen Grushin proceeds to dissect and debunk details presumably intended to provide local color in Grimes’ novel. In particular, she takes issue with the descriptions of food:
LWZDVWKHEUHDPWKDWLQWULJXHGPHWKHPRVW,WPXVWKDYHEHHQDXQLTXHO\UDUHGHOLFDF\ IRULWDSSHDUHGWREHVWXͿHGZLWKkasha, a porridge-like gruel characteristic of the most abjectly poor peasant households and probably never before glimpsed in any restau- rant in the city’s fashionable heart. That the assassin calmly chased this unheard-of culinary monstrosity with a serving of pancakes (correctly spelled bliny or blinchiki) I FRXOGDWWULEXWHRQO\WRKHULURQFRQVWLWXWLRQ *й²й
Grushin goes on to speculate about the continuation of the novel, adding KHURZQLPDJLQHGVWHUHRW\SHVWRWKRVHOLVWHGLQWKHSDVVDJHTXRWHGDERYH
Perhaps, upon turning the page, I would have discovered the heroine growing pensive as she listened to the passionate singing of wild-looking bearded men in fur hats ca- YRUWLQJDWWKHQH[WWDEOHEXWWKHÀUVWIHZSDUDJUDSKVSURYLGHGPRUHWKDQHQRXJKIRRG for my imagination, and hastily I slipped the paperback into my purse. (G1, 239)
Intended or not, the pun on “food” in the above passage, as well as the earlier correction of Grimes’ spelling of the Russian word for “pancakes”, XQGHUVFRUHV*UXVKLQ·VDWWHQWLRQWRFXOLQDU\GHWDLOVй³йDVERWKDUHDGHUDQG a writer. Her novels, written in English, contain several Russian names for food, such as vobla (Caspian roach) 15, tvorog (similar to cottage cheese, G2, 45), vareniki (dumplings, G2, 54), the cake called ptich’e moloko (G2, 312) and buterbrod (sandwich). 16 In the essay, Grushin explains the meaning of kasha and bliny for the EHQHÀWRIQRQ5XVVLDQUHDGHUVEXWVKHGRHVQRWGHÀQHEUHDP 17, leaving it to puzzled readers to look the word up in the dictionary, as Grushin’s mother ODWHUGRHV$OWKRXJKWKHGHÀQLWLRQLVQRWUHODWHGKHUPRWKHU·VUHDFWLRQLV clearly one of disapproval, as she comments, “What a typical ‘shady cran- EHUU\·µ * 7KLVH[SUHVVLRQRSDTXHWRDQRQUXVVRSKRQHUHDGHULVD literal translation of the ironic Russian idiom “razvesistaia kliukva”, denoting,
15 Olga Grushin, The Dream Life of Sukhanov, New York: Putnam, 2005 [= G2], 252, 259. 16 Olga Grushin, The Line1HZ
“Botanical Confusion” 71 in Grushin’s words: “a way of perceiving Russian culture in terms of cli- FKpй³йDQGJHWWLQJLWZURQJDWWKDWµ * 18 She continues:
Cranberries are considered the most traditional of Russian berries and can thus serve to evoke the so-called local atmosphere, along with other colorful props like matreshkas and babushkas. However, since the cranberry bush is a low matforming plant, describing it as ‘shady’ is nonsensical and therefore indicative only of someone who hopes to show familiarity with Russian reality but in truth knows no more about it than Mark Twain’s hapless editor knew about agriculture in the famous story “How I Edited an Agricul- tural Paper.” This is probably the single most common expression employed by Rus- VLDQVWRGHVFULEHWKHIRUHLJQXQGHUVWDQGLQJ RUODFNWKHUHRI RIWKHLUODQG *й²й
Grushin notes that the expression “shady cranberry” often came to mind during the river cruise, yet she also acknowledges that not only foreigners, but Russians themselves participate in the production and dissemination RIVXFKVWHUHRW\SHVH[HPSOLÀHGE\WKHZD\VLQZKLFK5XVVLDQFXOWXUHLV packaged for foreign consumption on the tour. Interestingly, foreign lan- JXDJHVй³йDQGHVSHFLDOO\DQLPSHUIHFWPDVWHU\RIWKHPй³йDUHVKRZQWRSHU- petuate cultural stereotypes. Grushin concludes her discussion of Grimes’ mystery by drawing a connection between an understanding of food cul- WXUHDQGODQJXDJH ´/XFNLO\,UHÁHFWHGP\PRWKHU·V(QJOLVKZDVJRRGEXW not that good, and she was unlikely to know the meaning of ‘bream’. Of course, my parents did have a dictionary at the house, but one always hopes for the best” (G1, 239). Another passage describes in a humoristic manner how Grushin and her father go ashore to view a modern Potemkin village erected for the entertainment of foreign tourists. 19 In response to their dis- DSSRLQWPHQWDWÀQGLQJWKH´PRRVHQXUVHU\µHPSW\WKHNHHSHUVD\V´
18 Ozhegov’s Russian dictionary notes that this expression is used ironically to denote “something which is completely improbable and which reveals an utter lack of knowledge of the subject”. My translation. “Kliukva”, Tolkovyi slovar’ Ozhegova, online version, http://slovar-ojegova.888news.name/k/13672-%CA%CB%DE%CA%C2%C0.html (10. 07. 2014). 19 *UXVKLQEULHÁ\JLYHVWKHVWRU\EHKLQGWKHH[SUHVVLRQ´3RWHPNLQYLOODJHµHDUOLHULQWKH essay (G1, 239).
72 Julie Hansen song” (G1, 248). Thus, a circuitous link is established, by way of language and botany, between Russia and North America. Another link between Russian and American contexts is established by the reference to Mark Twain’s short story “How I Edited an Agricultural Paper”. Twain’s story receives only passing mention in Grushin’s essay, but a closer look reveals a thematic likeness, in that both contain botanical dis- cussions. Twain’s narrator relates how, while substituting as editor for an agricultural newspaper, he published the following unreliable text about pumpkins:
Concerning the pumpkin. This berry is a favorite with the natives of the interior of New England, who prefer it to the gooseberry for the making of fruit-cake, and who OLNHZLVHJLYHLWWKHSUHIHUHQFHRYHUWKHUDVSEHUU\IRUIHHGLQJFRZVDVEHLQJPRUHÀOO- ing and fully as satisfying. The pumpkin is the only esculent of the orange family that ZLOOWKULYHLQWKH1RUWKH[FHSWWKHJRXUGDQGRQHRUWZRYDULHWLHVRIWKHVTXDVK%XW the custom of planting it in the front yard with the shrubbery is fast going out of vogue, for it is now generally conceded that the pumpkin as a shade tree is a failure. 20
The pumpkin belongs to the genus Viburnum, like the North American cranberry and the Russian kalinka. Thus, through intertextuality with 7ZDLQ·VVWRU\DFRQQHFWLRQLVGUDZQLQ*UXVKLQ·VHVVD\EHWZHHQIRXUGLͿHU- ent plants: pumpkins (Twain), raspberries (Twain and Grushin), cranberries (Grushin) and the Russian kalina (mentioned in Grushin’s discussion of the folksong 21 й³йDOORIZKLFKDOWKRXJKQDWLYHWRGLͿHUHQWFRQWLQHQWVEHORQJWR the same genus. Furthermore, the phrase “the pumpkin as a shade tree” re- verberates in Grushin’s English translation of the Russian idiom razvesistaia kliukva as “shady cranberry”. 22 The “ironic twist” (G1, 248) that comes with Grushin’s discovery of the North American cranberry serves to warn against taking any kind of cultural stereotype at face valueй³йincluding dismissive stereotypes about the practice of cultural stereotyping itself:
In a strange way, this botanical confusion represents a perfect illustration of the fact WKDWQRFRXQWU\FDQEHXQGHUVWRRGZLWKDVXSHUÀFLDOJODQFHRUDFXUVRU\ZDONDQGQR profound cultural truth can be unearthed from a guidebook full of glib anecdotes and outdated assumptions. (G1, 248)
7DNHQOLWHUDOO\WKHH[SUHVVLRQ¶VKDG\FUDQEHUU\·DFTXLUHVXQH[SHFWHGYDOLG- LW\ZKHQSODFHGZLWKLQD1RUWK$PHULFDQFRQWH[W6LJQLÀFDQWO\*UXVKLQ·V
20 Mark Twain (1870), “How I Edited an Agricultural Paper”, The Complete Short Stories of Mark TwainHG&KDUOHV1HLGHU*DUGHQ&LW\ +DQRYHU+RXVH й²й 21 Kalinka is a diminuitive form of the noun kalina in Russian. 22 ,WLVTXLWHSRVVLEOHWKDW*UXVKLQZDVLQÁXHQFHGE\7ZDLQ·VVKRUWVWRU\LQKHUWUDQVODWLRQ of the Russian idiom into English as “shady cranberry”. Other possible translations of the adjective razvesistaia include “bushy” and “branchy”.
“Botanical Confusion” 73 HVVD\FRQWDLQVRWKHUWUDQVDWODQWLFFURVVLQJVERWKOLWHUDODQGÀJXUDWLYH,Q the opening paragraph, the author is on a plane to Russia, presumably from North America; 23 the closing paragraph shifts focus back to North America through the discussion of the cranberry trees that grow there. This transcul- tural movement is also mirrored in the biography of the author, who can be said to have been ‘transplanted’ from Russia to North America. In the essay “In the Shade of a Cranberry Tree”, Grushin uses her adopted cultural con- text to provide a new perspective on her original one, shedding light on the nature of transcultural experience in the process.
The Line
Grushin’s second novel The Line was inspired by an actual occurrence in the Soviet Union: the year-long line for tickets to a concert given by the FRPSRVHU,JRU6WUDYLQVN\LQ/HQLQJUDGLQ GXULQJKLVÀUVWYLVLWVLQFH having left Russia before the 1917 Revolution. 24 Set in what Grushin calls a “dreamscape of Russia” 25 that blends elements of life in the Soviet Union from the 1930s, 1950s and 1970s, the novel depicts a line for a concert given E\WKHÀFWLRQDOFRPSRVHU,JRU6HOLQVN\7KHQDUUDWLYHFHQWHUVRQIRXUPHP- EHUVRIDIDPLO\й³йWKHPLGGOHDJHGWHDFKHU$QQDDQGKHUKXVEDQG6HUJHL who is a professional tuba player, their teenage son Alexander and Anna’s HOGHUO\PRWKHU0D\Dй³йDOORIZKRPKRSHWKDWWKHFRQFHUWZLOOFKDQJHWKHLU lives for the better. Details in the Soviet-era Russian settings of Grushin’s novels, such as the onion domes of dilapidated Orthodox churches or transliterated Russian greetings, might be dismissed merely as stereotypical images, intended to add a splash of local color to the story, as in the case of The Stargazey, dis- cussed by Grushin in “In the Shade of a Cranberry Tree”. In Grushin’s texts, however, the presence of such elements has bearing on the reading process, serving to make what is depicted strange in the sense of Shklovsky’s os- tranenie$MDUULQJRUGLVRULHQWLQJHͿHFWUHVXOWVZKHQ5XVVLDQZRUGVDSSHDU in proximity to idiomatic American expressions spoken by Russian charac- ters, e. g., “what-do-you-call-it” (G3, 57) and “easy come, easy go” (G3, 306). $WRWKHUWLPHVWKHUHDGHUKDVGLFXOW\LGHQWLI\LQJZKLFKODQJXDJHDSDU- ticular character is speaking, although the dialogues are related in English.
23 In the essay, the author explains, “For the past thirteen years, I have lived in America” (G1, 239) and also mentions that every year she travels “to Russia for my family vacation” (G1, 238). 24 Both the title and premise of this novel evoke Vladimir Sorokin’s novel Ochered’ (The Queue) from 1985. For a brief summary and discussion of The Line, see Julie Hansen (09. 10. 2011), “The Line”, The Literary Encyclopedia, http://www.litencyc.com/php/sworks. php?rec=true&UID=34200 (10. 07. 2014). 25 Olga Grushin: National Book Festival 2010 Webcast.
74 Julie Hansen For example, The Line depicts a New Year’s party at an unnamed foreign embassy in Moscow, at which Sergei’s orchestra provides the music. In this passage, individuals are repeatedly described as speaking with a foreign accent, though it is unclear from the text which language is being spoken with whichIRUHLJQDFFHQW *й²й 7KHPHQWLRQRIDQXQVSHFLÀHGIRUHLJQ accent in an English-language novel containing characters who normally communicate in Russian potentially creates uncertainty on the part the reader, who may attempt to deduce which language is being spoken with which foreign accent, as well as which nation is represented by the embas- sy. Thus, the reader’s focus is drawn away from the plot to language itself. Unclear references in a conversation overheard by Sergei during the party further add to the confusion (“Our loss, your gain”; “our newspapers”, G3, 31). The resulting sense of disorientation mirrors Sergei’s perception of the embassy, which appears strange and magical to him in contrast to the drab- ness and predictability of his everyday life. Typical of Grushin’s attention to culinary details, the allure of the unnamed country “Over There” (G3, 28) is conveyed through the detailed description of the appetizers served:
7KHUH ZHUH WLQ\ URXQG ÁDN\ SDVWULHV DQG WLQ\ HORQJDWHG FULVS\ SDVWULHV GHOLFDFLHV VWXͿHG ZLWK PHOWHG FKHHVH DQG ELWV RI ROLYHV VSULQNOHG ZLWK FDYLDU VSHFNOHG ZLWK VWUDQJHVWURQJÁDYRUHGPHDWVDQGVSLFHVWDOOJODVVHVRIHPHUDOGJUHHQDQGD]XUHEOXH OLTXLGVVWLWFKHGWKURXJKZLWKVWULQJVRIEXEEOHV\HWQRWLQHEULDWLQJLQWKHOHDVW *
In another passage, the teenager Alexander, inebriated, has the sense that words are disobeying him:
To be honest, he was not certain he was speaking all that clearly, because some of his ZRUGVTXLWHDIHZRIKLVZRUGVSHUKDSVZKLOHÁRZLQJZLWKSHUIHFWHDVHHYHQHOR- TXHQFHLQKLVPLQGWHQGHGWRVWXPEOHDQGIDOOLQWRSLWVWKDWNHSWRSHQLQJZLWKDQ DODUPLQJUHJXODULW\LQWKHPLGGOHRIKLVVHQWHQFHV * й²й
/DQJXDJHLVRQHRIVHYHUDOGHIDPLOLDUL]LQJGHYLFHVLQ*UXVKLQ·VÀFWLRQ$V I have shown previously, visual, as well as verbal, wordplay occurs in The Dream Life of Sukhanov 26, and both of her novels to date highlight language as a medium by using punctuation marks metaphorically to describe a long car ride (G2, 225) or a long line of people. In The Line, the line outside the kiosk where the concert tickets are expected to go on sale is described as “orderly commas of bent backs marking the sidewalk in a depressingly long sentence” (G3, 85). 27 As Kellman observes of translingual writing in
26 +DQVHQ´0DNLQJ6HQVHRIWKH7UDQVOLQJXDO7H[Wµй²й 27 For a brief discussion of the depiction of the car ride in The Dream Life of Sukhanov, see Hansen, “Making Sense of the Translingual Text”, 547.
“Botanical Confusion” 75 general, 28VXFKGHYLFHVLQ*UXVKLQ·VÀFWLRQVHUYHWRKLJKOLJKWODQJXDJHDVD medium, making it strange and reminding the reader on a meta-level that ODQJXDJHLVWKHVWXͿRXWRIZKLFKÀFWLRQLVFRQVWUXFWHG However, arguably strangest to anglophone readers without knowl- edge of life in the Soviet Union are not Russian words such as buterbrod, but the conditions of daily life in an authoritarian system. Although the author herself emphasizes the universality of her themes, such as memory, hope and the role of the artist, 29VKHFRQFUHWL]HVWKHPLQDVSHFLÀFDOO\6RYLHW era Russian context, and the plots turn on the restrictions entailed by such a system and the moral dilemmas that arise from them. In The Line, the FRXQWU\LQZKLFKWKHFKDUDFWHUVOLYHLVFORVHGRͿE\WKH,URQ&XUWDLQDQG the characters can only imagine what lies beyond it. They often dream of a SDVWRUIXWXUHLQWKH:HVWVXFKDVÀQGHVLqFOH3DULV LQWKHFDVHRI0D\D who danced with a ballet company resembling the Ballet Russes) or a life RIDGYHQWXUHLQHPLJUDWLRQ LQWKHFDVHRI$OH[DQGHUVXͿHULQJIURPHQQXL Their means of accessing the West via the imagination potentially paral- lel the contemporary Western reader’s relation to the Soviet Union, lacking direct experience of life under Communism. Through the defamiliarizing language of the text and disoriented perspectives of the characters (again, in the sense of Shklovsky’s ostranenie), the reader vicariously experiences the ÀFWLRQDOZRUOGRIThe Line. 9LFDULRXVH[SHULHQFHWKURXJKUHDGLQJLVH[HPSOLÀHGLQWKHIROORZLQJ passage, in which Alexander opens a pre-revolutionary book:
The book was from another century, with miraculously preserved brittle pages and the TXDLQWSUHUHYROXWLRQDU\DOSKDEHW>«@LWZDVQRWWKDWGLFXOWRQO\DPDWWHURIDIHZ RGGORRNLQJOHWWHUV7KHUHZHUHVWRULHVRIWUDYHOVй³йQRWWKHJDOORSLQJWRXJKDGYHQWXUHV he had been spinning out of the fabric of his nights for some time now, but slow, me- andering incidents with seemingly no beginnings and no ends, hushed conversations with strangers in narrow streets of somnolent towns, afternoons by some river, eve- QLQJVVSHQWGULQNLQJWHDFKDQWVRIXQIDPLOLDUQDPHVDQGSODFHVй³йDOORILWÀOOHGZLWK VXFKTXLHWRUGLQDU\EHDXW\WKDWKHNHSWWXUQLQJWKHSDJHVHYHQWKRXJKKHGULIWHGRͿ to a doze now and then, turning the pages, turning the hours, turning the corners of VOHHS\ERXOHYDUGVLQFLWLHVUHGDQGJROGHQDQGIXOOOLNHIDLU\WDOHDSSOHV *й²й
Through the act of reading, impeded and prolonged slightly by the unfa- miliar pre-revolutionary Cyrillic alphabet, Alexander imagines himself in another place, in another time. In the continuation of this passage, his read- ing and fantasy blends with his grandmother Maya’s reminiscences of her life as a ballet dancer. Reading and dreaming are closely linked in Grushin’s
28 Kellman, The Translingual Imagination, 29. 29 Moskalev, “Ol'ga Grushina”; Also, Sergei Moskalev (12. 03. 2010), “‘Ochered’ dlinnoiu v zhizn’”, Voice of America, http://www.voanews.com/russian/news/ (26. 09. 2011).
76 Julie Hansen ÀFWLRQDO ZRUNV ZKLFK FRQWDLQ QXPHURXV GUHDP VHTXHQFHV 30 These open up a transcultural space, in which national borders, as well as the cultural VSHFLÀFVRIZKDWLVGHSLFWHGDUHWUDQVFHQGHGLQWKHLPDJLQDWLRQRUVXEFRQ- scious of the focalizing characters. Further transcultural spaces are created in Grushin’s work by the mixing of languages, cultural allusions and liter- ary traditions. 'HVFULELQJWKHHͿHFWVRIODQJXDJHLQWHUDFWLRQLQWKHELOLQJXDOFLW\RI Montreal, Sherry Simon observes that “the interface between languages be- comes a creative space.” 31 This holds true for literary works, as well. As Rita Wilson argues, “translingual narratives transform literary and cultural dis- course, not only by relocating it on cultural margins, and by foregrounding intercultural dialogue and translation, but also by drawing discrete literary traditions into contact.” 32 As the work of Olga Grushin demonstrates, the space created by “the interface between languages” and cultures in trans- lingual writing is highly productive for authors and readers alike, creating original texts and opening up interpretative possibilities by making things strange.
Julie Hansen is Associate Professor of Slavic Languages at the Department of Modern Languages and Research Fellow at the Uppsala Centre for Russian and Eurasian Studies at Uppsala University. Her current research projects focus on the theme of memory in literature, literary translingualism and translation.
Abstract
This article considers translingual and transcultural aspects of two works by the Russian-American author Olga Grushin: the essay “In the Shade of a Cranberry Tree” (2004) and the novel The Line (2010). The analysis exam- ines ways in which Grushin’s writing moves between linguistic, literary and cultural contexts, mixing and ultimately transcending them in origi- nal ways. The article argues that translingual and transcultural elements in Grushin’s texts serve to highlight language as a creative medium, to debunk cultural stereotypes and to integrate literary traditions.
30 )RUDQLQVLJKWIXODQDO\VLVRIGUHDPVHTXHQFHVLQThe Dream Life of Sukhanov, see Alexandra Berlina, “Surrealism as Theme and Method in Olga Grushin’s The Dream Life of Sukhanov”, ZAA: Zeitschrift für Anglistik und Amerikanistik 4 (2014), forthcoming. For a brief GLVFXVVLRQRIWKHVLJQLÀFDQFHRIGUHDPVDQGPHPRU\LQThe Dream Life of Sukhanov, see Julie Hansen, “Memory Unleashed by Perestroika. Olga Grushin’s The Dream Life of Sukhanov”, Die Welt der Slaven /9,, й²й 31 Sherry Simon, “Crossing Town: Montreal in Translation”, Profession й²й 32 Rita Wilson, “Cultural Mediation through Translingual Narrative”, Target 23/2 (2011), й²й
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