Zhenia is pregnant and her favorite person in the world - her grandmother is dying. One day, Zhenia receives a phone call from Paul - a medium claiming that she's never met, claiming that her great grandmother (Zhenia's grandmother's mother) has contacted Paul and wishes to speak with Zhenia. Irina, is a being that lives in an interdimensional realm where fellow ancestral Russians are trapped in a cloud of their grief. In communicating through Paul and Zhenia translating her story of being a revolutionary and overall her life, Irina hopes that she can let go and be forgiven for her biggest regret in life: leaving behind Zhenia's grandmother, her daughter Vera at a Soviet orphanage and leaving on her own to America.

I had a lot of hopes for this book! I first read its description and a review in Library Journal, and I immediately thought it sounded like something I would be interested in. While I understand what the author was trying to do - because trust me I understand Russian/Soviet guilt - it felt like it was executed in a very confusing way. While the aspect of Irina communicating to Zhenia through Paul the medium was very interesting, this layer of Irina being in this weird "in between" space of life and death was at times difficult to follow. As well as that, it felt like most of the book was just Irina talking and Zhenia "transcribing," with not much reflection or input from Zhenia. It was almost like she didn't care? Which I understand to a certain extent her contention with her Great Grandmother, but this wasn't even reflected on very much, because she easily agreed to transcribe her story.

The author also spent a lot of time setting up the "before" part of Irina's story in being a revolutionary before the actual Russian Revolution, but doesn't do much in making us forgive Irina for leaving Vera behind. It's clear that Vera was terrible to her own child (Zhenia's mother), a side effect of being abandoned at an orphanage, but I didn't feel like Irina was very regretful in leaving her behind. So it makes me wonder and think what the moral of the story is here. While I was excited for the historical aspects of the story as it's such a fascinating time in history, Irina's storytelling and portions were just difficult to get through. Although Zhenia was an unlikeable character in general who kind of does all of the wrong things, I found her scenes more compelling or interesting to read. It would have been interesting to get more of Zhenia's self-reflection of her Great Grandmother's story, rather this pretty much be a book all about Irina.

Thank you to Netgalley and The Overlook Press for an early edition of the book in exchange for a fair and honest review!

Zhenia is content with her life as Katya Apekina’s emotionally stunning novel, Mother Doll, opens. She has a happy marriage to an actor and, even if her own acting career didn’t pan out, her work as a Russian translator is satisfying. She and her husband gleefully comment on their carefree childlessness only to discover, a few days later, that Zhenia is pregnant. Her pregnancy sparks a roller coaster of revelation about what truly brings happiness and a struggle over what it means to be a mother.

Zhenia was always closest to her grandmother, Vera. Sadly, Vera is in serious decline and everyone anticipates that she won’t have long to live. Vera’s dementia means that Zhenia can’t even share the news of her pregnancy. Zhenia’s husband and mother aren’t too thrilled when they find out. Zhenia’s husband starts spending more and more time away. Zhenia’s mother is blunt when she wonders about Zhenia’s ability to take care of a child. So far, a very normal if not very joyful story. Things get strange when, out of the blue, Zhenia gets a call from a medium claiming to be in touch with Zhenia’s missing great-grandmother, who vanished after leaving a young Vera at a Soviet orphanage. The ghostly great-grandmother, Irina, wants to finally tell her story.

There is a price to be paid for learning what happened to Irina and how she came to abandon Vera. Part of that price is witnessing Irina’s many faults. She is vindictive, easily swayed by people she admires or is attractive to, and never thinks about the consequences of her actions. The heavier price is the physical toll the medium, Paul, and later Zhenia, have to bear being in close contact with the dead. If they’re not careful, Irina could pull them both over into death. For once, a Ouija board would have been safer.

As Irina tells her story and Zhenia’s pregnancy develops, Mother Doll introduces some very interesting ideas. Paul muses about how our selves are fractured into what we show others and how we change over time. It’s an open question whether there is such a thing as a true self. Glimpses of the afterlife reveal a clamor of voices all longing to tell their tales while touching the world of the living once more. Zhenia’s mother shares a few memories that make Zhenia question her own recollections of Vera and her grandmother’s love. All of these themes and plots build into a deeply satisfying conclusion when Zhenia gives birth and her son, Vladimir, comes into the world. (I particularly love how Zhenia dismisses her now ex-husband’s milquetoast suggestions for a name and insists on a Russian one, to the ex’s annoyance.)

None of the characters in Mother Doll is heroic. (Zhenia’s mother comes close because she sweeps in when needed to make sure that Zhenia and Vladimir have the help they need, without being asked.) Everyone in this book is profoundly human. They follow their inclinations without much thought for what could go wrong—and several of them get burned for it. Sure we need stories about heroes to inspire us. I would argue, though, that we need stories about the fuck-ups just as much. It might be frustrating to watch Zhenia et al. blunder but so very redeeming when they pick themselves up after disaster and learn from their mistakes.

Mother Doll is a dual timeline novel split between Russian revolutionary Irina and her great-granddaughter, Zhenia, a twentysomething in LA whose marriage is falling apart as a result of her pregnancy. Through a New York medium, Irina speaks to Zhenia and shares the story of her childhood, her political involvement, and the moments leading up to her abandonment of her daughter, Zhenia’s beloved grandmother. Meanwhile, as Zhenia receives the story and translates it from Russian into English, she grapples with the notions of heritage and legacy while coming to terms with her own impending motherhood.

The very best thing about this book is the sharp tone and biting humor. None of the characters are particularly likable, but the blunt portrayal of their humanity is admirable in its own way. Irina and Zhenia are deeply flawed characters, though the narrative’s awareness of this allows them to be sympathetic nonetheless. In developing the women’s characters, the two timelines work well together. Irina and Zhenia spill into each other in a way that complements the story, and the relationship between them is fascinating to witness. My main complaint is that I found myself becoming less engaged by the details of Irina’s political activities, which dominate the middle chapters especially, as the story progressed. The history is interesting, yes, but I was much more compelled by Irina and Zhenia’s dynamic, which seemed to get lost for a while. Still, the novel eventually reins in Irina’s narrative and the story ends on a strong note because of it. The book gifts you with an unflinching view of family and flaws that makes for a wholly satisfying read.

Thank you to NetGalley and Overlook for this ARC.

A psychic reaches out to Zhenia, telling her that her long-deceased great-grandmother, who she never met, has a story for her. Zhenia, currently pre-grieving her dying grandmother who is her favorite person in the world, dives head first, desperate to learn about the woman who abandoned her grandmother as a child. Maybe the spirit of Irina can get her closer to her grandmother, who is no longer communicative.

Some of the frame story didn't work for me--why does Paul continue the project long after his publisher rejects the proposal? Why does Zhenia continue to write down/translate Irina's story? The logic of Paul's ability is a little dubious. He can physical.ly enter whatever in between space Irina is occupying, as he leaves with a bite mark at one point. Later, when Paul leaves the narrative, Irina's ghost visits Zhenia and enters her. Paul is a narrative necessity to get Irina's spirit to Zhenia, but Apekina doesn't always seem to know what to do with him.

The chorus of spirits surrounding Irina in the afterlife is reminiscent of Saunders' "Lincoln in the Bardo," but not as affective. I don't know that it was needed in this particular narrative.

The most powerful parts of the book detail Irina's childhood in Russia and why she made the ultimate sacrifice in abandoning her daughter. Without such a powerful backstory, the book would have been three stars for me, but the vivid historical details elevates it. The story in the present doesn't hold a candle to Irina's telling of the past.

What a beautifully written novel. Katya Apekina's prose is stunning. I can't believe I've never heard of this author before. I will definitely be reading her previous work now. This novel focuses on generational trauma. I loved reading the great grandmother's backstory. It was so intriguing and intense. I loved the present time as well. I loved every character, and I loved how the main character was complexed and aggravating. Relatable characters and a wacky plot equals a brilliant novel from start to finish.

Thank you, Netgalley and Abrams for the digital ARC.

Mother Doll was written in a zippy, peppy, trying-to-please style that bodes well for its success but man I just could not buy into it, or into this story. I call this style ‘laddish’, and it works fine for almost every reader I know, and other authors who adopt this style (I’d include Patrick Dewitt and Kevin Wilson and Nathan Hill and Melissa Broder in the ‘laddish writing’ category) are beloved, but for me the danger in this style of writing is that it’s continually calling attention to itself, not in a showy literary way, but in an attempt-to-be-disarmingly vernacular way. The style is so few-shucks disarming that the story itself needs to be full of unexpected happenings but that mustn’t try too hard, or it gets twee. For me the balance here was off. Even so I’m amazed at how differently Apekina has told this story vs her debut and I remain a fan looking forward to reading what she writes next.

Thank you to NetGalley for providing me with an early copy of "Mother Doll”

This novel skillfully navigates the nuances of the human experience. "Mother Doll" is not just a story; it's a powerful examination of the lasting impact of our roots and the intricate threads that connect generations. A must-read for anyone seeking a profound and beautifully crafted narrative.

Just a really good book. The story was complex and even demanding at times, but I found it easy to lose myself in the writing style (that's not to say that it was simple; it just flowed perfectly). Also, look at that cover!

Apekina's debut novel The Deeper the Water the Uglier the Fish, was one of my top reads for 2019 (...and was just as good a second time around in a reread last year), and I was eagerly awaiting a follow-up - now that it's finally here (or almost - it won't be published till March 2024, but through the generosity of Netgalley and Overlook/Abrams, I was granted access to an ARC - with my heartfelt thanks!) ... it was definitely worth the wait.

Apekina's story this time is even more complex, but her prose is still compulsively readable - I read 60% of it just today, as I literally couldn't put it down. The synopsis above tells you all you really need to know about what it's about - but you really do get incredibly involved in these characters lives, tragedies and triumphs. I really hope it justifiably catapults the author into the top ranks of bestselling and prize-winning authors - it's just that good.

I absolutely loved this book. Family stories usually aren't the best fit for me, especially not when we're moving between timelines, but this one kept me captivated. The prose is beautiful, and the pacing is smart and sharp, I really appreciated how delicately and surprisingly the writer handled intergenerational trauma and abuse. Smart, compelling, and unique, this one feels like a book to be studied.

From the first paragraph until the end of the book I was intrigued with this story. It was way different than most books but I still enjoyed the experience of reading it. Thanks to NetGalley for the ARC. Four stars.