Gulag reading

I recently read One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovitch. It was one of those books I have been meaning to get to. It is more of a novella, so it was easy to read in one sitting. The books I have had the luxury to read this way have been forever ingrained in my brain: Fifth Business by Robertson Davies is one, and a lot of the Three Investigators mystery series as a kid. I recall many lazy Saturday afternoons pouring over the adventures of Jupiter, Pete and Bob.

But reading Ivan, as you can imagine, was a lot different than trying to figure out the mystery of the talking skull.

It was hugely compelling - and I felt guilty for having the compulsion. It is written from the perspective of a Russian political prisoner in the Gulag. It is a somewhat ordinary day (for Ivan, not for us). He gets up in minus 30 degree weather, works in brutal conditions, wearing rag covered feet in his felt boots, trying to stay warm, stay alive, stay out of the hole (solitary). Yet, there is a beauty and incredible grace to his existence - the simplest things, that we take so much for granted, take on grand importance. How do you eat your food, how do you conserve your energy, how do you save your food (your very meager food) to last the day, and how do you lay a perfect row of bricks when your mortar is freezing.

It is hard to know what to say about this books and my summary seems inadequate. But it is one of those books that have changed the way I think.

May you read something similar this Saturday afternoon.