Russian Journal

I put greater trust in people with whom I share a name, Andrea. I picked a primary care doctor only because her name was Andrea and she was fantastic. All the Andreas I've ever met have been amazing. So when I discovered the writer Andrea Lee several years ago, I automatically assumed she would be a great writer. Not only do we share the same first name, but my middle name is Lee, so the sisterhood was sealed. And, true to form, she is a great writer.
Russian Journal is her first book-- it's a non fiction description of her time in the Soviet Union in the late 70s. Growing up in the 80s, the Soviet Union was a place completely off limits-- images of dark, dismal landscapes, people waiting in endless lines for scratchy toilet paper and root vegetables, plus, of course the constant threat of Communism to our freedom loving souls. Ms. Lee carefully paints a picture not unlike that described above, but with even more depth. She does not hide her distaste for the shortfalls of the huge Communist country-- the poverty, miseducation of its citizens and destruction of an imperial history in favor of boxy low rent conformity. But she draws a careful line between the institution that created this and the people who are a part of it. She makes friends who readily criticize the Party as well as friends whose patriotism is unmatched. She uses a journalist's eye to evoke character descriptions of her friends and the total landscape they inhabit. She finds herself missing "luxuries" such as freely speaking and going wherever she would like. She misses the glitzy advertising in the U.S. that is missing from the U.S.S.R. She misses the "whole" movie (sex scenes are edited out of imported movies). But when she arrives back in Boston, she finds she has a much greater appreciation for the lives and struggles of her Russian friends and finds herself appreciating them all the more.
Ms. Lee's descriptions confirmed many of my notions about Soviet Russia-- the coveting of American blue jeans and music, the cold and cramped housing. But now I'll also think of Grigorii, the student assigned to spy on Ms. Lee and her husband, but who they grew close to nonetheless, and his quiet appreciation of the nightingale's song. Or of Ms. Lee's descriptions of the ice breaking up in the spring, and the crisp cool air with eventual lilacs.
This was a beautifully written book so I'm giving if 5/5 netflix stars.