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Ceylon, a novel by Yuri Buida (2015)
Rights sold: Russia - EKSMO
Longlisted for the 2016 NOS literary award
Longlisted for the 2016 Big Book literary award
Yuri Buida's Ceylon is a family chronicle narrated in first person by Andrei Cherepnin, the last living representative of his family. Generation after generation, Cherepnins played a significant role in the life of a small provincial town Osorin; their private lives became integral part of its history, of the history of Russia. They were among the founders of the city, they have grown up and developed with it, they actively participated to the first industrial revolution, then to WWI and the Bolshevik revolution, the family was torn apart by the Russian Civil War, it survived the WWII, then the collapse of the Soviet Union and the Perestroika, and faced up with a new reality of modern Russia.
Family history of Cherepnins - just as the history of Russia - features an endless line of secrets, betrayals, deaths, and recompenses for their sins: narrator's great-grandfather, a prominent revolutionary, once executed his own brother, who was a counter-revolutionary. Narrator's grandfather, a director of the military plant, killed a murderer of his granddaughter. Life Andrei is also overfilled with losses and deaths of his most loved ones.
Ceylon is a parable novel, a tale of a broken reality, of the world nearing its end, but still aching for the impossible ideal, for the City of Sun. In Buida's vision, the Cherpnins are the metaphoric depiction of Russia. Their deliberate or intuitive intents to put together their broken lives only lead them to a new tragedy. The only thing that remains intact, and gives them strength to continue is their permanent longing for love and their native ability to share love with others.
(From the review published by Lizok's Bookshelf blog):
I might not call Yuri Buida's Цейлон (Ceylon) the author's headiest or most metaphysical novel—I definitely prefer both his Blue Blood and Zero Train—but Ceylon, like Poison and Honey, his previous book, is thoroughly readable and enjoyable. Lots of Ceylon felt familiar after reading several other Buida novels: part of my enjoyment, I suspect, came from just that because I love observing how authors reuse structures and tropes in various books. That familiarity may also help explain why I think Ceylon feels more accessible and mainstream (these aren't bad words!) to me than, say, his Blue Blood or Zero Train...
As with Blue Blood and Poison and Honey, a family home feels like a key character in Ceylon: in this case, as in Poison, there's a house on a hill. The area it's in is known as "Ceylon," which reminds of how a building in Blue Blood is known as "Africa." Both those names are introduced early in their respective novels, leading to questions about the origins of the building names. In the case of Ceylon, named thusly by a traveler in the eighteenth century enamored of the island, there were early attempts to dress up dogs as tigers, boys as monkeys, and wooden structures as palm trees. Not quite a tropical paradise but an attempt at paradise nevertheless and (long story short, since of course there's much more to things) the place, though not the original house, which burned, is now home to the Cherepin family, five generations of which are described in varying levels of detail in the book by Andrei Ilyich Cherepin, a first-person narrator who's genial and, though heavily involved in events, feels surprisingly reliable.
Ceylon, though, feels almost more like some form of "absurd realism" or at least "quirky realism" to me, what with brothers on opposite sides at revolution time—this, by the way, feels like another case of attempts at paradise, of which there are many in Ceylon and Ceylon, including through marriage—and a taxidermied bear and unlikely loves and a woman dancing the lambada at the grave of her son, who died in Chechnya. There's lots of everyday oddity. And I nearly forgot the big elm tree growing through the house. A sort of family tree.
There's a lot of history, too: Andrei's first job is at a dig, where he charms all the young women, he goes on to be a teacher, work at the local museum, and write his dissertation about local history that includes his family. Digs and cultural layers come up a lot in contemporary Russian fiction and Buida piles together Russian history, local history, and family history for the reader to dig through, working in the two brothers' conflicts about the revolution—I mention this again because I thought it's one of the strongest and best-integrated subplots in the book, with its combination of "big" history and family history—the military-industrial complex, whose secrets another family member keeps; the crime-ridden banditry of the nineties; the wars in Chechnya; and even the conflict in Ukraine. Some of these chunks of history are more successful than others, I think: as often happens in fiction, particularly family sagas that draw on and reflect a country's history, more distant events usually feel better contextualized and grounded than those more recent.
In the end, though, the town cemetery, known as Red Mountain, felt almost more significant to me than Ceylon, both because Andrei speaks, early on, of his youthful hope for immortality and because his grandfather has taken on a gigantic cemetery renovation project (financed in a way that doesn't sound perfectly legal) that dovetails nicely with Andrei's thoughts about the afterlife at the end of the book, when he's the father of three (almost four) children and has described rather dramatic losses of family members. There's a lot of mortality in Ceylon but also lots of birth.
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Why Italians Love to Talk about Food, by Elena Kostioukovitch (2006, NF)
2010 IACP Cookbook Award Finalist
Chiavari Literary Prize 2007 Italy
Bancarella (cucina) Award 2007 Italy
Hospitality Prize of the Restaurateurs & Hoteliers Federation 2006 RussiaRights sold: Australia - PAN MACMILLAN, Bulgaria - POCKET MEDIA, Estonia - TANAPAEV, China - WEALTH PRESS (traditional chinese), BEIJING QIZHENGUAN MEDIA (simplified chinese), Germany - FISCHER VERLAG, Italy - SPERLING & KUPFER, ODOYA, Korea - RANDOM HOUSE KOREA, Latvia - JANIS ROZE, Macedonia - ANTOLOG, Poland - ALBATROS, Russia - EKSMO, SLOVO, OGI, Serbia - PAIDEIA, Spain - TUSQUETS, UK - DUCKWORTH, Ukraine - FOLIO, USA - FARRAR, STRAUS and GIROUX
Why Italians Love to Talk about Food with a preface by Umberto Eco is a fascinating mix of history, culture, language and cuisine. To illustrate the synergy of these elements, the book presents chapters on each of Italy’s 20 very diverse regions, alternating with chapters on general themes such as olive oil, Slow Food, the Mediterranean diet, the sagra, etc. This is not a recipe book, but a kind of gastronomic-cultural guide: moving from north to south down the peninsula, Kostioukovitch shows how each region’s traditional cuisine and local specialties have been informed by its culture and history, its exposure to foreign influences, its geography and landscape, its topography and climate, its social customs and attitudes, its religious canons, its politics and economy, and more. As the author puts it, food is a common language which crosses the most diverse social and economic strata. In the end it is Kostioukovitch’s love for Italy itself, even more so than its food, that is her muse and inspiration. Lively and entertaining in its approach, the book’s extensive bibliography shows the range of research – culinary, historical, literary, and so on – on which it soundly rests.
"Elena, who certainly turns out to be an exceptional connoisseur of Italian cooking in all its varieties and mysteries, takes us by the hand (and let's say by the palate and by the nose too) on her culinary journey, not only for the sake of showing us the food, but also for showing us Italy, which she herself has spent a lifetime discovering. What you are about to read is a book of cuisine, but also a book about a country, a culture, indeed, many cultures." - UMBERTO ECO, from the preface to “Why Italians Love to Talk about Food”
There are no recipes for quail or anything else in "Why Italians Love to Talk About Food", but anyone with a strong passion for Italian food will find it indispensable. It's like an encyclopedia compiled and penned by a seriously gifted writer, in this case Elena Kostioukovitch. Infused throughout is Kostioukovitch's passion for Italy and its wide-ranging cuisine; you could even call it amore. - Minneapolis Star Tribune
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Elena Kostioukovitch has deciphered a large chunk of the culinary code that is second nature to Italians: knowledge about agriculture, festivals and cooking. - The New York Times
Every decade or so I discover a book that makes me feel I've been waiting for it all my life. Elena Kostioukovitch's Why Italians Love to Talk About Food is one of these books. Her rich book is an omnium gatherum of historically significant food, the extraordinary diversity of Italian cuisine. This fine book is a painting in words of the deepest bonds between local foods, ceremony and people. - Annie Proulx, The Guardian
This is a travelogue journey through Italy's regional cuisines, from the Alps to Sicily. The author noticed the differences of taste, language, and attitude in the ways that Italians talked about food. Local pride comes to mind. This memoir is loaded with illustrations, maps, menus, and explanations. - Gothic Epicures VinCuisine blog
Chefs, foodies, and Italophiles will treasure Elena Kostioukovitch’s Why Italians Love To Talk About Food. This masterful tome is a culinary encyclopedia and travelogue—a chronicle of Italy’s regional cuisines. Cuisine is a "code that pervades all of Italy," Kostioukovitch writes, and discussing it "means celebrating a rite, uttering a magic formula." Gorgeous photos and mouthwatering sample menus round out this literary feast. - Elizabeth Sher, Politics and Prose Bookstore & Coffeeshop website, Washington D.C.
Encyclopedic, this book is. It awakens that longing to head to the kitchen, mince some garlic, pour the olive oil in a pan and start cooking. - An ode to Italy's food, and its place in Italian culture, The Montreal Gazette
This book is something quite different. There are no glossy photos and no recipes. Elena Kostioukovitch has lived in Italy for the past 20 years, and studied its various foods and culinary traditions passionately. The result is a lively discussion of the way what we eat is not just cooked but culturally transformed. This book is not encyclopedic. One shouldn't turn to it for a comprehensive guide of a particular region's food. Its modus operandi is that of the anecdote, like a series of rambling conversations around a dinner table. The Australian
An off-beat take on the Italian cookbook and Italian culture - Michael A. Duvernois, WIKIO
Umberto Eco's translator shares cultural, historical and sociopolitical wisdom in this charming gastronomic survey of the food of her adopted country. - The New York Times
My immediate reaction to Why Italians Love to Talk About Food was, this is a perfect companion to the Lonely Planet guidebook edition covering Italy. Like travelling through Italy, where each corner you turn has the potential to present an unforgettable visual experience, turning each page of this book has the potential to tickle, tease and tantalise your tastebuds. - Web Wombat
"Why Italians Love to Talk About Food", a wandering encyclopedia, travel guide and history, at times ploddingly told, but unlike much else. Elena Kostioukovitch, who was Umberto Eco's Russian translator, walks us from north to south, each stop densely researched. There are no recipes. Photos are gorgeous, if sparse. And the tone is reminiscent of a long, discursive meal. - Chicago Tribune
This is a book for the serious foodie, covering Italy and its flavorful cooking step-by-step, with a sense of the natural resources and cultural backdrop that brought particular ingredients and dishes to the fore. The glossary of terms means you'll never again have to be ignorant of the meaning of such terms as alla cacciatora or in carpione. - The Book Babes, Margo Hammond and Ellen Heltzel’s website
Kostiukovich manages to illuminate the many mysteries of Italian cuisine in a text that inspires one to want to learn more about and cook more Italian food. If you read her book, you may not be able to stop talking about Italian food. - Sacramento Book Review