A rare look at Kazakhstan and life on the Aral Sea. I appreciate that others might enjoy the magical realism but as this was my first dip into a novel set in the country, I would have liked less of it. Thanks for the ARC>.

I really wanted to like this book. I love reading translated books as I can learn about new cultures from those books. But this book is just overwhelming. The literature is rich and I loved the magical realism. But everything is confusing. We can't get to read more of Kazakhstan and the end days of the soviet union. This book gave us an insight into it. The thing that didn't work for me is the characters. I can't connect with them and I needed to breaks in between. I think the translator has done a wonderful job in translating as well as providing insight into the Russian words. I recommend this book because it talks about a culture that's not often portrayed. But it is a heavy and a challenging read.

A rare glimpse into Kazakhstan, its culture - steeped in storytelling and magical realism, and the shrinking and drying up of the Aral Sea as a result of the Soviet Union diverting the rivers that flowed into it. The Aral Sea was once the fourth largest lake in the world. Sweeping in scope, the storyline starts off with Nasyr, a fisherman and his wife Korlan, and their son Kakharman. Father and son are determined to battle political, social, and environmental issues to save their beloved waters. Set during the Soviet Union days, the story is meandering, going back and forth in time, filled with innumerable characters, stories and sub-stories, some “real,” others steeped in fables or magical realism, and countless travels across villages and cities. The result - a bit of a dizzy reading experience that meandered making concentration key to keeping track of all the threads. It’s worth the read if one can do that and stick with it. There are few books such as this one. It’s definitely a window into Kazakhstan and a part of the world I haven’t read much about and it’s great that the book was translated and shared globally. Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the opportunity to read and review this book.

Whenever I come close to thinking I’m an informed person, I come across something that reminds me I’m not. In this case, it was the situation Aral Sea. Although The Dead Wander in the Desert is a fictional story, it illuminates a true plight ignored by much of the world. It’s a real-life tragedy created by mankind.

This story was originally published in 1986 in Russian by Rollan Seisenbayev (who according to the publisher; I couldn’t find much information to verify) is “Kazakhstan’s most celebrated and honored author.” Now this story has finally been translated into English. I am always on the lookout for new authors, and I love reading stories from other countries. Let’s be honest; the publishing industry is too focused on the U.S. and U.K.. So I was excited when I stumbled across The Dead Wander in the Desert.

Admittedly, this is not a mainstream book. The writing is influenced by traditional Kazakh oral storytelling. While beautifully written, this book is not straightforward or fast-paced. There are multiple points of view, flashbacks, and points where the narrative seems to meander away from the central story. Some words are translated or defined but others are not, so that may intimidate some readers. I’ll include a content warning for Colonialism, oppression, misogyny, and animal sacrifice.

The story is beautiful though. It explores the human condition and the environmental impact made by humans. It raises important questions. While not a light or easy read, The Dead Wander in the Desert is a compelling tale.

Oh, dear. I have loved books that were serious literature, that were extremely long, that were set in cultures very different from my own. In all these cases, my curiosity was engaged and it carried me through. In this case, the book's length was daunting -- yes -- but what derailed me was my lack of connection to any characters.

The many, many, many untranslated words also stopped me cold. Yes, they were footnoted, but in an e-book that means going to the end of the book several times on each page, interrupting the narrative flow. Soon, I felt as if I were studying for an exam rather than reading for pleasure.

TL; DNF.

Great read. The author wrote a story that was interesting and moved at a pace that kept me engaged. The characters were easy to invest in.

In "The Dead Wander in the Desert," we see the final, painful days of the Soviet Union, juxtaposed with the final, painful days of the Aral Sea, as a once-bountiful land dries up and turns to a poisonous, salt-filled desert. The characters in the book fight to preserve the sea, but in vain: the central planners in Alma Ata (present-day Almaty) and Moscow refuse to undam the rivers running into it, dooming it and all who live in or by it to destruction.

The desiccation of the Aral Sea has been named one of the greatest natural disasters of the 20th century. In the past decade the water levels in one of its few remaining pools have been raised, but it is still far from revived. At the same time, it has received much less attention than more spectacular disasters than Chernobyl. In part that's probably because it happened out in Central Asia and primarily affected Central Asians, not Europeans. And in part that's because it's much less exciting than something like a nuclear meltdown. The destruction of the Aral Sea was the predictable result of specific policies, and took place over decades. There was no giant explosion, just a day-by-day incremental worsening of the problem, until one day the land was no longer habitable. Sound familiar?

"The Dead Wander in the Desert" is worth reading for its subject matter alone: it's both a memorial to a terrible disaster, and a clear warning bell of the danger of other disasters that are bearing down on the entire planet. It has a clear and unambiguous environmental message that some readers might find overbearing from an artistic point of view, but can't help but get its (extremely urgent) point across.

It's also worth reading as a window into a culture that most Western readers are likely to know little or nothing about. As well as an elegiac celebration of the Aral Sea in its final days, it's also a celebration of Kazakh culture. Western readers of the English-language translation are likely to find the culture simultaneously fascinating and off-putting: the book extolls both the close-knit Kazakh community around the sea and its close relationship with the land, and less attractive features of it such as animal sacrifice and the subjugation of women. As with other (post)-Soviet cultures, from a Western perspective there are no unmitigated good guys here. The Kazakhs were genuinely exploited and oppressed, and their culture almost destroyed along with their natural environment, by the Soviet regime. Some parts of the culture the book's characters are trying so hard to preserve probably do need to be tossed out into the dustbin of history. "The Dead Wander in the Desert" does not provide any answers to this thorny dilemma, but it would serve as an excellent jumping-off point for discussion in a class on environmental or post-colonial fiction.

Structurally and stylistically, the book is interesting but challenging. It follows along the events of perestroika more or less chronologically, but with multiple points of view and frequent flashbacks and digressions. This helps give it its epic breadth, depth, and feel, but requires attention from the reader to follow. It also has a tinge of magic realism mixed in with its purely realist accounting of perestroika and the world events surrounding it. It's not something to pick up as a piece of light, escapist reading. As with the subject matter, though, it would work beautifully as an assigned reading for a college-level class or book club that tackles serious topics and "big" novels.

The translation is well done, and the numerous end notes explaining cultural and historical events, as well as the Kazakh and Russian words that are left untranslated, will be very helpful for readers unfamiliar with perestroika, the USSR, or Kazakh culture.

"The Dead Wander in the Desert" is not an easy read, but it *is* a "big" novel in the Russian/Soviet tradition. Recommended for serious readers of literature in translation, especially Russian/Soviet/post-Soviet literature, and for readers of environmental and colonial/post-colonial fiction.

My thanks to NetGalley and Amazon Crossing for providing a review copy of this book. All opinions are my own.