Ordinary People Don't Carry Machine Guns

Ordinary People Don't Carry Machine Guns/ Artem Chapeye
trans. from the Ukrainian by Zenia Tompkins
NY: Seven Stories Press, c2025. 
128 p.

 Moving from yesterday's 1920s Kyiv to 2020s Kyiv with today's book. This set of essays by Artem Chapeye is a straight-talking, angry book about war and the way it affects a society. It was so powerful and striking in many ways. 

Chapeye was a leftist pacifist prior to Feb 22, 2022. But the reality of an invasion of his country led him to enlist shortly after the invasion began. He has been serving in the army since. 

The book is divided into three parts: “When Darkness Comes”, about the beginning and the incomprehensible reality of war arriving in a modern European country, and the way it immediately shook everything up. “It’s Necessary to Cultivate Your Garden” takes a look at everyday Ukrainians, their survival strategies and hopes for a return to a peaceful future. Then, “People Aren’t Divided into Brands" which examines the problems of elitism and the attitudes between different levels of Ukrainian society - how those who haven't enlisted often say that they can help elsewhere, with overtones of them being more important than those on the front lines. Chapeye has years, now, of serving in the army, and he worries about his wife and children, his country, and more, even as he doesn't waver from his role. 

I found Chapeye's earlier book, The Ukraine, memorable; a mix of fiction and reportage, it was published just as he had enlisted. This book is darker, more grounded in daily experience of war and the social issues it aggravates. It's a must read, as a fluent report of the day to day life of a Ukrainian soldier, one who is also an accomplished writer and journalist. Hard to read but so vital. 

The Sunflower Boys

The Sunflower Boys / Sam Wachman
NY: Harper, c2025.
352 p.

This novel, published as YA, is by an American writer with Ukrainian roots. It follows two young boys, Artem and Yuri, as the full scale Russian invasion arrives in Feb 2022. Their father is working in American, sending money home, while their mother and grandfather take care of them. 

Artem is an artist, drawing in his sketchbook constantly. He is a regular boy, with school hijinks, games, friends and so on. But as this book opens, he is realizing that he is also falling in love with his best friend. This theme of identity and self-awareness runs throughout the book, but there are bigger things to worry about once Russia arrives. 

After the first few days of hiding in the basement with the rest of their apartment neighbours, their mother decides that they are leaving the city to go to their grandfather's farm in the country. This seems like a good plan but it turns out to be a tragic decision. There is a horrific scene when the Russians find the house; it was very graphic and terrible, and perhaps readers should be aware that there is violence and terror in this book as well. 

Artem and Yuri escape and make their way across a hellscape of cold, dark countryside, trying to get to a city so they can flee to Kyiv. Eventually they make it, their father finally gets back into Ukraine and finds them, and they end up in Florida in the last chapters. But this trek is endless, full of difficulty, fear, hunger - and also the help of people they find along the way. Artem and Yuri stick together but as the elder brother, Artem is more permanently affected by his responsibility and awareness of what's going on. 

This was a striking and realistic read, a war novel that describes the realities of civilians caught in the middle of this invasion. It's also a humanising one; Artem's life and other concerns are still important to him, everything is not wiped by war coming. It was a powerful read, but readers should be prepared for some traumatic scenes, as Wachman doesn't hold back on the horrors of war. 

The City

 

The City / Valerian Pidmohylnyi
trans. from the Ukrainian by Maxim Tarnawsky 
Cambridge, MA: HURI, 2025, c1927.
504 p.

I read this recently, as it's a Ukrainian classic now available in English. It was written in 1927 and is considered one of the first urban novels (as per the title). 

The cover is evocative, as the story is about Stepan Radchenko, who comes to Kyiv from his village, to study and help build up socialism. He is ambitious, driven, sensitive to what others think of him, works hard and takes whatever advantage he can. He intends to climb the social/artistic ladder as high as he can. He doesn't have much emotional intelligence, but he knows how to play the game and advance himself wherever possible. I thought the story was quick moving, psychologically interesting, and definitely a great picture of 1920s Kyiv when Ukrainization was going strong -- before Stalin reintroduced russification and the generation of writers including Pidmohylnyi were killed -- the Executed Renaissance. 

However. I did not love this book. Stepan is a bit of a self-centred asshole so I had a hard time finding sympathy for him. He has three relationships with women once he arrives in Kyiv, all focused on his own needs and desires, not theirs. He forces himself on a girl from the village who had been stepping out with him, then drops her. He starts a physical relationship with his married landlady. And then he has a long-standing relationship with another young woman who he leads on to the point of proposing, only to then change his mind and drop her too. These women were only useful to him insofar as they helped him advance in some way. 

So Stepan's great ideal of socialism and equality only extends to men like him. The book thus made me feel conflicted; while I admired the writing style and some of the psychological insight into Stepan and his fellow writers and students, and the depiction of the arts scene in Kyiv, I was dismayed by the depiction of women's status and experience as being secondary and only important in relation to the men in the book.  Their rights of artistic growth and autonomy are not considered. At the same time, the writing itself is good, with quotable moments of insight and the evocation of an era. So this is a mid book for me -- the good is counterbalanced by the bad so it comes out just middling for me as a reader.  

More Days at the Morisaki Bookshop

More Days at the Morisaki Bookshop / Satoshi Yagisawa
trans. from the Japanese by Eric Ozawa
NY: HarperPerennial, 2024, c2011.
176 p.

I couldn't wait, after reading the first book in this set last week - I had to search out book two. Thankfully my library had it, so I brought it home and read it over a couple of days. I had to stretch this one out a little more than the first one, as it is quite melancholy and I needed a break before the conclusion. 

In this novel, Takako is reminiscing; the story is related from her future vantage point. I find this style a bit melancholic by nature, and this story has some sad parts in it for sure. It takes place 3 years after Takako left the bookshop for a design job, but she still comes back and hangs out at the bookshop and the coffee shops in the neighbourhood. She's now dating Wada, from the end of the first book, and along with her friend Tomo, has a life outside work -- something she had to create consciously for herself. As an aside, the description of Takako's romantic relationships seems unusual -- very formal, with not much communication on her part as to what's going on -- I'm wondering if this is a Japanese norm that I'm missing, or just a man writing a woman character. Anyhow!

Uncle Satoru and Aunt Momoko are still running the bookshop, but things are about to change, and Takako has to help Satoru come to terms with the way life is going. There is less talk about specific books and authors in this one than in the first, and more about the lives and relationships of the characters. Once again I was reminded of Banana Yoshimoto's style. 

I liked this one, although marginally less than the first one. It made me cry, and I found some lovely bits in it, though. This ties up the story of the Morisaki Bookshop, but the author has another series set in a cafe. Perhaps I will try that next. I find his style quite appealing and readable.  

 

House of Many Ways

House of Many Ways / Diana Wynne Jones 
NY: Greenwillow, 2009, c2008.
338 p.

This is book three in the Howl's Moving Castle trilogy, but it was written quite a few years after the first two and honestly didn't need Sophie or Howl in it at all. It could easily have been written without them, with no huge loss to the storyline. This is definitely even less connected to their world than book two was! 

Still, I liked this. There were lots of neat ideas in it, and the main character, Charmain Baker, was interesting to me as a bookish, stubborn girl. As the story opens, she is being sent off to keep house for her Great-Uncle William while he is away. There's nobody else to do it, so Charmain heads off to the very odd home of her great uncle, who is also known as the Royal Wizard Norland. 

This house has doors that open to different places, secret passages, magical water and food and so forth, and as Charmain finds out, also an apprentice, Peter, who just shows up at the door one morning expecting the Royal Wizard.  

Charmain gets involved (long story) with the King and his daughter, who are searching for something called the Elfgift, which will save their kingdom. The King is sifting through books in the royal library, and as Charmain is very good with books, she begins to assist him. These scenes in the dim, creaky library are wonderful, quiet and reeking of research. I enjoyed them! 

Howl's crew gets involved when the Princess calls in Sophie, now a feared sorceress, to help them in their search. Of course, where Sophie is, Howl and Calcifer and her child are not far behind. 

I liked this one, I thought the titular House was appealing, the villian (an insect like creature called the Lubbock) was suitably creepy, the plot was pretty good and Charmain was interesting. It felt a bit too farcical in some parts for me, as chaos is not my favourite plot device. But overall it was an enjoyable read. The creative set-up and the sneaky conspiracy that took a while to figure out were entertaining. I'm glad to have read all three titles in this trilogy now, although I'd probably only reread Howl's Moving Castle. 

 

Castle in the Air

Castle in the Air / Diana Wynne Jones 
NY: Greenwillow, 2008, c1990.
383 p.

This is book two in the loosely connected Howl books by Diana Wynne Jones. It is not a sequel exactly; Howl and Sophie show up in this one, even if you don't know it immediately, but the main action follows other characters. 

It begins in the Howl universe, but south of the land of Ingary. We meet Abdullah, a carpet seller in the Rashpuht bazaar. He's young, not that successful, and spends a lot of time dreaming of being a hero. One day, a stranger sells him a magic carpet -- and the adventures begin. 

He meets the Sultan's daughter, Princess Flower-in-the-Night, but she is stolen by an evil Djinn before Abdullah can do anything. He heads off in pursuit on his magic carpet, meeting a rather disreputable companion along the way, a rough character who turns out to dote on cats and whose skills as a thief are particularly useful. They discover that there is a castle in the air where many kidnapped princesses are being held, and the scenes in the castle (Howl's Moving Castle, stolen by the Djinn) are my favourite part of this book, funny and full of fabulous women. The princesses range from small children to mature women, but they are all interesting and clever. 

Calcifer, Sophie, and Howl (and their small infant) all turn out to be important to the story, and have been woven into the tale more than first appears. This was funny and charming, with many disguised identities and misdirections. The power of constancy and true love is highlighted as well, with many delightful pairings showing up. 

It is over 30 years old so there are a few things that might not have been included today, but overall, it was a fun read with a satisfying happy ending. 

 

If Cats Disappeared from the World

 

If Cats Disappeared from the World / Genki Kawamura
trans. from the Japanese by Eric Selland
London: Picador, 2018, c2012.
202 p.

I read this little book last week; I've owned for a long time but have just picked it up now. It's funny how many books like this I have on my shelves - ones that have been patiently waiting their turn, and once I open them I can't stop reading. 

This is a short novel, just 202 short pages. It is loosely in the form of a letter, written by a young man who is all alone in the world aside from his cat Cabbage. He's just found out that he has a brain tumour and only weeks to live. But his week turns surreal as the Devil appears to him and tells him that he can choose one thing to disappear from the world in exchange for another day of life. 

He gets a few extra days but the idea of exchanging things starts to pall. What is life worth living for and what parts make it all worthwhile? When the Devil suggests that cats disappear next, our narrator realizes he has a vital choice to make. 

Throughout this short narrative, told in a confessional, almost offhand style, deep questions are raised. We learn that the narrator's mother has died and that he is estranged from his father; he has a loose connection with an old girlfriend, which is important to the story. But his closest emotional relationship is with Cabbage. And through his reflections, we learn more about his past and his issues with his father. 

I found this a touching story, on the edge of being too sentimental but counterbalanced by the humour and irreverence of the Devil and the narrator's reactions. Even with the brevity and direct style, it causes the reader to think more deeply about what is worth cherishing in life, especially when you're about to leave it. I'm not sure why it hit me right now, but it did have an emotional impact. I thought the ending was perfect, resolving the interiority and isolation of this character's story with a resonant visual image of reconnection. Really interesting read, with some memorable moments.