Tag Archives: Memory

In Living Memory

One theme that struck me throughout the film, The Babushkas of Chernobyl, and the book, Voices from Chernobyl, is the relationship between history, being forgotten, and life persevering. The babushkas in particular exemplified this interconnection of ideas—they live in abandoned, radioactive places and yet these women (those who are left) are living to the age of 80 and above. With minimal help from the outside world, they grow their own crops, brew their own moonshine and generally take care of themselves. Their headscarves are bright colors, as though to remind themselves that they are still alive and vibrant people, full of joy and a will to live despite the contamination around them, which they are consuming every day. Yet the contrast with the “stalkers” who are inspired by a video game to sneak into the contaminated zone acts as a stark reminder that some truly believe the Zone to be an empty yet thrilling place and worth nothing more than a good dare. The woman in the video of remarks that these “stalkers” are constantly forgetting that this zone is dangerous, as though they have forgotten the true history of what occurred there and see it solely through the modern lens of video games.

In the other short video we watched in class on Monday, the man remarks that returning to these contaminated and abandoned towns and homes is like looking into the past. There are photos and clothes and just the remains of these people’s lives. Which made me wonder—is looking at the babushkas’ homes still looking into the past? Are they isolated from time? Or are they themselves a remnant of history, living in isolation? But these homes are also reminders of abandonment, as a photographer describes in Voices from Chernobyl: “You wanted to just remember it: the globe in the schoolyard crushed by a tractor; laundry that’s been hanging out on the balcony for a year and has turned black; abandoned military graves, the grass as tall as the soldier statue on it, and the automatic weapon of the statue, a bird’s nest…People have left, but their photographs are still in the houses, like their souls” (Alexievich, 192). What these people leave behind is not just history, but part of who they are. And these babushkas of Chernobyl could be considered part of that which was left behind, even as they struggled and sneaked through barbed wire to come back to their homes. But they should not be remembered just as a part of history, but as living and vibrant people, which I believe the movie does a wonderful job of capturing.

What Seems vs. What Is

What lies on the surface can be deceiving; once one starts to dig deeper the truth is revealed. Turgenev’s The Singers highlights this idea as it depicts favorable peasant life despite an undesirable country landscape setting. While other works we have examined, such as Uncle Vanya, have presented a strong connection between the natural environment and the character’s behavior, the peasants in The Singers appear to act in a manner contrary to the negative influences of the environment. The narrator begins the story by describing the village of Kolotovka as “poor” and never a “cheerful sight” no matter the season (1,4). He observes the lack of water as well as the oppressive heat near Kolotovka, pointing to the lifelessness of the village and the likely poor condition of its residents (4). The narrator’s description leads one to wonder how and why under such conditions anyone lives in the village.

Instead of continuing with the description of the poor environment, Turgenev turns to the life of the peasants and focuses on their interactions at a local pub. A surprising part of this scene is how the narrator blends into the background and acts as a spectator to the events in the pub by not interacting directly with any of the peasants. Although the narrator is physically present, his removal, yet observation of the situation creates the idea for the reader that one is viewing the peasant in his or her natural environment. The convivial atmosphere around the singing competition within the pub plays out in stark contrast to the miserable country environment. Yashka’s emotional song brings both the narrator and the rest of the peasants to tears, shortly followed by all of them “talking loudly [and] joyfully,” momentarily forgetting about the problems of their past and the present (19). The narrator’s rapid departure from the pub, so as to not “spoil [his] impression” of the peasants, reveals the narrator’s desire to remember the peasants in a positive light despite their terrible environment (20). He wishes to retain this image of the peasants, as it is not plagued by the ills that the environment undoubtedly imposes on them. Particularly since the narrator reveals the difficult pasts of some of the peasants, he wants his memory of them to be this positive experience in the pub, which could very well differ from that of the peasant’s everyday lives given the harsh environment. While the narrator leads one to believe that the peasants lead a satisfying life, there is much that the narrator withholds or does not know about their everyday life, and the poor environment serves as an indicator that the way the peasants appear may not necessarily be the truth.