One of Grossman’s three war novels, alongside Life and Fate and Stalingrad, and here translated for the first time since a truncated version appeared in 1946, The People Immortal is a welcome addition to his oeuvre. However, as a novel it falls short of the other two and although the blurb says it is “far from being mere morale-boosting propaganda” that is, sadly, exactly what it feels like. It covers a few days in July 1941 when a Red Army unit is encircled by German forces, and is based on an account given to Grossman by a Soviet officer about how he led a Red Army unit out of such an encirclement. We follow a number of Russian soldiers and civilians as they retreat during the disastrous early days of the German invasion. Several of the characters are based on real-life ones, adding to the feeling of authenticity. Grossman himself spent time on the Eastern Front as correspondent for the military newspaper Red Star, so witnessed the type of scenes he depicts here, and certainly it all feels very true to life. However, the characterisation relies on plucky Soviet archetypes, wise peasants, noble rank-and-file soldiers showing exceptional bravery and defiance, all facing the stereotypical nasty evil Germans. Clunky dialogue doesn’t help. I can’t say I enjoyed the book, but appreciated learning about life on the front line, and it’s certainly essential reading for anyone interested in Grossman, his work, and Soviet wartime writing. Copious notes, annotations and an excellent introduction are extremely helpful, and I would recommend the book to any Russophiles out there, but as a novel I didn’t find it a particularly successful one.

The first of Vasily Grossman’s three novels covering the events of WW2 or, for the U.S.S.R., the Great Patriotic War, and the last to be fully translated into English. It’s also the book that made him famous. I’m not suggesting this has the force or complexity of the excellent Stalingrad or its superb sequel Life and Fate but still found it impossible to put down until I’d finished it. It’s a tightly-structured, episodic piece, barely more than two hundred pages, bearing the marks of its original serialization in the Soviet military paper Krasnaya Zveda (Red Star). The paper Grossman was assigned to as a war reporter after ill health barred him from active service.

The narrative opens in summer 1941 and covers the early part of the German invasion of Belorussia and the Ukraine regions of the Soviet Union. The German forces were remarkably well-equipped, sweeping through the area at speed, and the Red Army suffered a series of monumental, humiliating defeats. Cities were firebombed, towns and villages were occupied or looted and destroyed along with their inhabitants, it was a catastrophic time for the Soviet military and for its civilians. Grossman’s story follows a Red Army regiment and a small group of local people as they struggle to deal with the brutal advance of the German army.

At its best it’s an incredibly vivid piece, almost cinematic in its detail. Beautifully paced, the action moves between bouts of fighting and brief periods of quiet in between, pausing to show the harsh realities of occupation and the intricacies of military command. As usual, Grossman’s own experiences as an eye-witness on the frontlines allows him to inject a striking intensity and immediacy into his account. But, the state of the war, the countless defeats, the largescale deaths, obviously made writing this a difficult balancing act for Grossman. He had to work within the restraints set by a broader need to boost morale, and reassure readers that eventual victory wasn’t impossible. So, he included a number of quite forced, propaganda-like passages containing rousing, nationalistic exhortations and short monologues on the glories of Lenin’s Russia – although interestingly not Stalin’s. And these definitely interrupt the flow at various points.

Yet despite the dual constraints dictated by the progress of the war and Soviet censorship, Grossman manages to produce a fairly realistic portrait of the state of affairs for the Soviet military as well as the inhabitants of the occupied zones. And, sometimes, he bursts free of his restraints altogether. So, there are, for example, brief, subtle allusions to German versus Russian anti-Semitism and the fate of the Jews in occupied Belorussia and the Ukraine – a subject significant to Grossman, himself a Soviet Jew from the Ukraine. And Grossman manages to gradually construct a convincing critique of the strengths and limitations of the Soviet military ‘s initial strategy.

This might all sound dry and dusty but that’s far from the case, I found it gripping and sometimes almost unbearably moving. Partly because Grossman introduces a series of sympathetic figures who go beyond stereotypes or caricature, in particular sensitive philosophy-professor-turned-commander Bogariov and his assistant young soldier Ignatiev who longs for his village home. They’re convincing, well-rounded characters with richly-detailed backstories and meticulously rendered tastes and habits. There are stretches of comic or heartfelt dialogue that it’s easy to imagine Grossman, ever the journalist, plucked from real life. There’s too a palpable sense of what it must have felt like to be trapped in a war zone, the sense of shock and collective grief. The anxiety of the people left behind as the Red Army falls back further and further. And the scenes of German soldiers ravaging a small village make for devastating reading. Another thing that I particularly appreciate about Grossman is his deep compassion for all living creatures, his horror at the destruction of landscapes and wildlife by fire and bombing raids. Here his portrayal of the natural world is evocative, often lyrical and always richly textured.

So, although this can be a bit clunky, and it’s clearly an overly-idealised representation of the Soviet Union and its citizens, in Grossman’s deft hands it’s also strangely authentic in feel. Despite its flaws, I thought it captured much of the absurdity and tragedy of this war and I could trace the outlines of the style and perspective that make the later Life and Fate so exceptional. This was first translated in the 1940s but that was an abridged, compromised edition. This new translation by Robert and Elizabeth Chandler is based on a restored version edited by Julia Volohova. It comes with an impressive array of background material and notes, and an invaluable introduction to Grossman and the novel’s historical context.

A complex and bleak book that talks about history, everyday life, and the beginning of WWII. A Russian battaillon, a victory and defeats.
Grossman is a witness of these events and his style of writing and storytelling made me feel liked I was living with the soldiers.
It's not an easy or heartwarming read but a great literary work.
Highly recommended.
Many thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for this ARC, all opinions are mine

Wow. At the same time a demoralising book of the shocking defeats for the Soviets at the beginning of the war and yet there is also something a little bit glorious about the soldiers and their battles. What Grossman does incredibly well is convey the minutiae of the day to day life’s of the soldiers, what they see and hear and how they live under German control. Some powerful every day scenes of terror and banality for those living through it day to day. The book focuses on different characters and how they felt as individuals as the horrors of war overcame them and shootings became the norm and the endless drip of harsh life in war time and occupation grind people down. There are some more open and driven ranking soldiers who do drive forward the soviet propaganda that the fighting was going well and that the soviets would be victorious, but set against the realities of the harsh life and death faced by most this seems starkly wrong.
Not an uplifting book but a cleverly written one giving real insight into the minute by minute existence of people in war.