The Living & the Dead: The Rise and Fall of the Cult of World War II in Russia

Rating:
Summary: Interesting, personal and informative! Very readable.
Review: I read this book for pleasure. I am not a scholar on the subject of WWII nor an expert in Soviet politics. I thought the book was great. It taught me more about how "present" WWII still is in Russia, and it really inspired me to want to read more on the topic. A good, interesting read for a layperson!

Rating:
Summary: Interesting, personal and informative! Very readable.
Review: I read this book for pleasure. I am not a scholar on the subject of WWII nor an expert in Soviet politics. I thought the book was great. It taught me more about how "present" WWII still is in Russia, and it really inspired me to want to read more on the topic. A good, interesting read for a layperson!

Rating:
Summary: starost' nye radost' (Russian proverb)
Review: Nina Tumarkin gives a scathing critique of what she calls the Soviet "cult" of World War ll -- the Communist Party's gradual transformation of an enormous national tragedy into a glorious, heroic feat. She starts with the early days following Victory, after which Stalin sought to suppress the people's collective memory of the War. He began by demoting Victory Day in 1947 from a state holiday to a regular working day. He banned publication of soldiers' memoirs, claiming that it was "too early... following these great events... and thus the memoirs would not have the required objectivity." (Of course veterans understood that it was not subjectivism that worried Stalin, but rather, fear of unflattering truths emerging.) And within the following two years, amputees and other mutilated survivors began to disappear from the streets, as the evidence of wartime horror was relocated to special "colonies" in the north. It wasn't until well after Khruschev's denunciation of Stalin's regime that Victory Day was reinstated, and the Party began its stage-managing of the War into a triumph of patriotism. Its glorification reached its fervent peak during the Brezhnev years, with massive celebrations taking place every May. Tumarkin makes many fine points about the hypocrisy of pompous ritual while hundreds of thousands of dead still lay unburied on battlefields throughout the country. And how Brezhnev awarded himself undeserved medals for nonexistent wartime valor after so many POWs had rotted away for years in gulags. Unfortunately, the author's derision for gargantuan monuments, grandiose speeches, and collectable kitsch also extends to medal-bedecked "voviy" (contemptuous acronym for veterans, derived from "Velikaya Otechestvennaya Voina", Great Patriotic War), whose elevated status claimed entitlement and privilege. Perhaps she can be forgiven her resentment, after spending her childhood years presenting flowers and accolades to aging veterans and having to endure their "yawn-enducing battle sagas". Perhaps there is truth that the "27-Million Martyrs of the Motherland" are in reality no more than victims, callously sacrificed by an uncaring despot. But such cynicism might then also be extended to the millions of Soviet citizens who suffered under Stalinist policy, or even to the millions of Jews exterminated in the Holocaust. And what of the "heroism" of a mere seven American astronauts disintegrated with Challenger, or three incinerated on the launchpad? Heroism, after all, has less to do with valorous deeds than with enduring and conquering adversity, and providing a courageous example. It would be a shame if rejection of Communist exploitation should mirror Stalin's own cold-hearted abandonment of the true heroes of the Soviet Union. Tumarkin rejoices in the decline of the "cult" of World War ll in her homeland -- "We can put away those records of Russian war songs now!" -- ironically at the same time that American appreciation of our own veterans' heroism is on the rise.

Rating:
Summary: starost' nye radost' (Russian proverb)
Review: Nina Tumarkin gives a scathing critique of what she calls the Soviet "cult" of World War ll -- the Communist Party's gradual transformation of an enormous national tragedy into a glorious, heroic feat. She starts with the early days following Victory, after which Stalin sought to suppress the people's collective memory of the War. He began by demoting Victory Day in 1947 from a state holiday to a regular working day. He banned publication of soldiers' memoirs, claiming that it was "too early... following these great events... and thus the memoirs would not have the required objectivity." (Of course veterans understood that it was not subjectivism that worried Stalin, but rather, fear of unflattering truths emerging.) And within the following two years, amputees and other mutilated survivors began to disappear from the streets, as the evidence of wartime horror was relocated to special "colonies" in the north. It wasn't until well after Khruschev's denunciation of Stalin's regime that Victory Day was reinstated, and the Party began its stage-managing of the War into a triumph of patriotism. Its glorification reached its fervent peak during the Brezhnev years, with massive celebrations taking place every May. Tumarkin makes many fine points about the hypocrisy of pompous ritual while hundreds of thousands of dead still lay unburied on battlefields throughout the country. And how Brezhnev awarded himself undeserved medals for nonexistent wartime valor after so many POWs had rotted away for years in gulags. Unfortunately, the author's derision for gargantuan monuments, grandiose speeches, and collectable kitsch also extends to medal-bedecked "voviy" (contemptuous acronym for veterans, derived from "Velikaya Otechestvennaya Voina", Great Patriotic War), whose elevated status claimed entitlement and privilege. Perhaps she can be forgiven her resentment, after spending her childhood years presenting flowers and accolades to aging veterans and having to endure their "yawn-enducing battle sagas". Perhaps there is truth that the "27-Million Martyrs of the Motherland" are in reality no more than victims, callously sacrificed by an uncaring despot. But such cynicism might then also be extended to the millions of Soviet citizens who suffered under Stalinist policy, or even to the millions of Jews exterminated in the Holocaust. And what of the "heroism" of a mere seven American astronauts disintegrated with Challenger, or three incinerated on the launchpad? Heroism, after all, has less to do with valorous deeds than with enduring and conquering adversity, and providing a courageous example. It would be a shame if rejection of Communist exploitation should mirror Stalin's own cold-hearted abandonment of the true heroes of the Soviet Union. Tumarkin rejoices in the decline of the "cult" of World War ll in her homeland -- "We can put away those records of Russian war songs now!" -- ironically at the same time that American appreciation of our own veterans' heroism is on the rise.

Rating:
Summary: Highly biased account of Soviet Russia and WWII
Review: Tumarkin looks at the continual commemoration of the Second World War in Russia; unfortunately, her account of this fascinating subject is marred by her blatant anti-Soviet feelings and irrelevant personal anecdotes. In a backlash against Stalin and the Soviet's reluctance to name Jews as special victims of the war, she seems at times to forget that the Soviets were persecuted as well, as Bolsheviks and "Untermenschen" Slavs.