Bad Education? Vita Nostra by Marina and Sergey Dyachenko

Vita Nostra 

By Marina & Sergey Dyachenko(Translated by Julia Meitov Hersey)

A baffled review

Vita Nostra was first published in Ukraine in 2007, in the original Russian. After garnering prizes and a cult following, this novel by Marina and Sergey Dyachenko is now being published by HarperCollins in an English translation by Julia Meitov Hersey. It has been compared to «The Magicians» by Lev Grossman, who has claimed that Vita Nostra «has become a powerful influence» on his own writing.  A Goodreads reviewer describes it as «Harry Potter, were it written by Lev Tolstoy».  It’s a helpful analogy, but one which does not really prepare you for the novel’s enthralling weirdness.

It starts out like a slice of post-Soviet realism, with Sasha Samokhina, the 16-year old protagonist, vacationing at a rather sordid resort with her (single) mother.  Sasha notices that she is being stalked by a stranger, whom she cannot avoid, however hard she tries.  Things soon take a turn for the bizarre.  When Sasha finally speaks to the stranger, he sets her awkward challenges which border on the abusive, and test her physical and psychological endurance to the limit.  The price for failing is high – one near-miss brings about nearly fatal consequences for the persons closest to Sasha.  It turns out all these rather disturbing goings-on are a prelude to Sasha being called to join the mysterious «Institute of Special Technologies».   Potterheads will be disappointed to learn that this is no Russian Hogwarts.  It is situated in the nondescript provincial town of Torpa; its more advanced students seem deranged or crippled; its lecturers are threatening; its curriculum, and particularly the dreaded «Specialty» lecture, seems maddeningly – and pointlessly - difficult.  And there’s a clear sense that failure is simply not an option.  Throughout the novel, Sasha considers not entering the Institute and, eventually, escaping from there.  But can she ever bring herself to do that when it would put her life and her family in mortal danger?  The atmosphere of dread never lifts – and it is accentuated by the fact that for most of the book, neither Sasha nor the readers are really aware what the course is all about, what its aims are and what it will all lead to.  Like the protagonist, we are kept in the dark and slowly discover (part of ) the truth with her.  

These gradual revelations makes Vita Nostra eminently readable, despite the fact that its plot is not really spectacular and often built on abstruse concepts.  At one level, it can be enjoyed as a coming-of-age or college novel, one in which Sasha Samokhina experiences love and grows into an independent adult. At the same time, the fantastical elements give it an added dimension, making us wonder what the heck is going on at the Institute.   By the end of the book, we notice that the novel has prodded us into considering weighty philosophical concepts, such as fate and free will – do we really have choices, or are these set by others, or by our own fears and limitations?  

This was one of the most mind-boggling, unusual and memorable books read this year – and the one with the most gorgeous cover.  If I chop off a couple of stars from my rating it is because I found the language used rather awkward – I can’t say whether it’s the translation or a quirk of the original, but I felt that the shifts from colloquial to a more high-flying style were clunky and unconvincing.  But this is, ultimately, a novel one reads for its baffling ideas – I recommend it precisely for being so strange.

***

The best soundtrack to the novel would most probably be a playlist of post-Soviet rock or dance.  But that would be well outside by comfort zone.  So what I will offer you first is a recording of Gaudeamus Igitur, the medieval student song whose lyrics inspire the novel’s title.

It’s such a well-known tune that it has often been adapted by later composers and musicians.   Brahms quotes it in his Academic Festival Overture, composed in 1880 on the occasion of his receiving an honorary doctorate from the University of Breslau (now Wrocław).  The school’s dignitaries expected a solemn, celebratory work – what they got instead was a potpourri of student driking songs, ending with Gaudeamus Igitur:

Here’s Liszt’s take on the same theme, in a version for piano duet:

To end, a Russian composer for a Russian-language novel: Tchaikovsky’s arrangement for chorus and piano.  In Russian.