The Book of Anna
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3.0 • 1 Rating
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- $9.99
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- $9.99
Publisher Description
Russia, 1905. Behind the gates of the Karenin Palace, Sergei, son of Anna Karenina, meets Tolstoy in his dreams and finds reminders of his mother everywhere: the almost-living portrait that the Tsar intends to acquire and the opium-infused manuscripts she wrote just before her death, one of which opens a trapdoor to a wild feminist fairytale. Across the city, Clementine, an anarchist seamstress, and Father Gapón, the charismatic leader of the proletariat, tip the country ever closer to revolution. Boullosa lifts the voices of coachmen, sailors, maids, and seamstresses in this playful, polyphonic, and subversive revision of the Russian revolution, told through the lens of Tolstoy’s most beloved work.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Boullosa (Before) imagines the legacy of Tolstoy's character Anna Karenina in revolutionary St. Petersburg in this inspired if slight tale. In 1905, Anna's son, Sergei, now an adult, is still haunted by the scandal his mother caused when she left her husband, his father, to run off with Vronsky. When the czar requisitions a portrait of Anna for the royal collection, Sergei can't bear the thought of exhibiting his mother's portrait to a society that loves to gossip about her, and is repulsed by his half-sister, Anya, the daughter of Anna and Vronsky, for being the "spitting image" of his shameful mother. Meanwhile, rebel priest Father Gapon organizes a movement of the poor and disenfranchised, and a group of anarchists, including the fiery seamstress Clementine, who wears one of Anna's dresses out of apparent solidarity with the transgressive figure, plot to bomb the czar's car. In short, pointed chapters, Boullosa draws on St. Petersburg's revolutionary fervor, making an implicit analogy between historical social movements and Anna's personal attempt at liberation with a long, revisionist fairy tale purportedly written by Anna before her death. Despite the novel's undeniable thrills, the characters do not progress beyond their roles as representations. Boullosa's speculative rumination falls short.
