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The People's Act of Love

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"He's not a destroyer; he is destruction, leaving these good people who remain to build a better world on the ruins. What looks like an act of evil to a single person is the people's act of love to its future itself." Samarin pretending to speak of another, but really speaking of himself.

James Meek has written a marvelous story-telling in this novel. It portrays the Russian revolution in such detail you would think you are in the world of 1917. So many characters woven into effortless story lines, so that the story grabs our attention. The characters are revealed in a central figure, and we are able at last to understand the drama and the truth. James Meek attended Edinburgh University and as a journalist for the "Guardian" and "Observer" reported from Russia for ten years. He has been able to show us the horrific sights and scenes of Siberia: cruelty, murder and cannibalism. And, yet the sun shining on the snow, the love of a man and a woman; the everyday life of those who live the best they can.

Samarin, one of the main characters shows up in tiny, poor Yazyk, a Siberian community. His story is that of a political prisoner, a run-away from a horrible place in the Arctic. He has escaped with "Mohican" a guard at this prison. Mohican took Samarin with him, it seems, to eat his flesh. Samarin's story is slowly unraveled, but not before we meet the other characters. An extreme Christian sect that castrates its members so they can be called angels. A group of Czechoslovakian legions, trying to leave this God-forbidden place, led by Lieutenant Mutz. Mutz loves the earth and a woman, Anna Petrovna. Anna is the wife of the leader of the Christian sect. She is also a woman who loves men and sex, photography and her son.

All these characters and more who are puzzled about many events. They learn as we do, when the puzzle begins to fit; the meaning of the extremes of the political, the spiritual and the humanity. There are heroes and there is goodness. This is a particularly spectacular book, written by a particularly special writer.
Highly recommended. prisrob

It was the intention of James Meek that his third novel, The People's Act of Love, should be written in the manner of the great Russian novels. While I have little to no experience in this branch of literature there were enough idiosyncrasies within the book to believe that he has, at least, achieved this. And, having spent eight years living in Russia whilst following his career in journalism, Meek may be better qualified than most to write a modern take on the Russian novel .

Set in Yazyk, a remote village in the Siberian wilderness, the novel investigates the actions of a small group of people. There is Balashov, the leader of a bizarre Christian sect; Mutz, a Jewish soldier from Prague, who is one of a number of Czech soldiers on the losing side of the Russian Revolution; Anna Petrovna, a young war widow, who lives in the town with her son, Alyosha; and Samarin, an enigmatic escapee from a Siberian prison camp, who is just passing through, being followed, so he says, by another prisoner named the Mohican.

The People's Act of Love is high on drama, and, as the action unfolds the death of a local shaman brings suspicion to Yazyk. Samarin, being the stranger with an unverifiable story, becomes the prime suspect and is imprisoned. When he tells his story to a makeshift court, a long painful narrative about life in a hellhole called the White Garden, he garners sympathy and, at the request of the undersexed Anna Petrovna, goes to stay under her watchful eye.

As the events happen in Yazyk, further tension is added to the fears of the closeknit community by the knowledge that the Reds, winners of the Russian Revolution, are coming. A priority for them is to eliminate the Czech soldiers, men desperate to return home, and claim the town for the People. The leader of the Czech's, a man named Matula, led his men in the massacre at Staraya Krepost for which the Reds want to exercise their own brand of justice.

Meek's prose is wonderful, as fresh and crisp as the snow falling upon the land. In fact, the harsh temperatures of Siberia inform the prose: the description makes use of evocative words suggesting a locale lost in the emptiness of northern Asia. Characters trudge over `papery snow', they wear two jackets, and even the trees are known to shudder.

Throughout the novel there are a number of scenes which are brutal but handled in such a way as to seem unimportant. A man is castrated; another is butchered and the separate parts of his body hung from a tree so that they may dry; while others are sentenced to death for no reason other than the Bolshevik ideal. Matula, also, shows his anti-Semite opinions in the way he talks to Mutz, always referring to him as `Yid' and making light of his religion. It's testament to Meek's ability that he shows us such inhumanities without preaching and leaves it open to the reader to form their opinion on his characters.

Despite how bleak The People's Act of Love gets, it is shot through with an underlying humour that serves some warmth to the frozen landscape. And while the jokes are old, or you know them in some incarnation, they are always spoken by the soldiers who, with their circumstances, can be forgiven as they try to maintain morale.

Another interesting slant, is the book's passing regard to religious fundamentalism. The sect living in Yazyk are Christian but their methods and doctrines are far from standard Christianity. They are castrated to be more like angels and live without sin; a practice bewildering to some of the others living in the town. Not least of all, to Anna Petrovna, whose husband is Balashov, a soldier so devout that he gave up his wife, son, and member to be closer to God.

The main themes, however, are love and sacrifice. Anna Petrovna gives up her normal life to be with Balashov, a man she loves but can never love her again; Balashov's love of God that he would forfeit his sexuality to be with Him; and Samarin, embodiment of the People, who would sacrifice parts of his nature so as to better prepare for the world ahead. In fact, the act of love referred to in the book's title, comes from a conversation with him and Petrovna where he talks about eating a comrade for the greater good, beating off starvation to be able to change the world. Essentially, since the book is shot through with cannibalism references, Meek is asking if there is a right time to eat another human being.

The People's Act of Love was longlisted for the Booker 2005 and, while I've not read all the books that made the eventual shortlist, I wonder if Meek may have missed out on a chance to become more of a public interest. His style is certainly enjoyable, his plotting tight, and his characters tinged with much humanity. I believe Meek's earlier two novels were somewhat different to this book and, based on the change in direction he appears to have taken, we can look forward to an interesting voice for the future.

The People's Act of Love is set in an isolated religious commune in 1919 Siberia, that is also occupied by a regiment of Czech Legion soldiers who were on the wrong side of the recent revolutionary conflict. The Legion has lost a third of its number to battle, hunger and cold and is desperate to go home. Into this uneasy community trudges Samarin, an escapee from an Arctic gulag. Before his arrest Samarin claims to have been a university student, who was at the wrong place during an activist action. His trial sent him to the White Garden, from which he escaped with the assistance of another convict, the Mohican. During the long walk, he discovers that the Mohican brought him along as a "cow", a lesser prisoner that is fattened for the slaughter, and is butchered and eaten so that the Mohican may survive the hazardous trek to freedom. Samarin eludes the Mohican but fears he is still being chased by a hungry cannibal bent on revenge.

Anna Petrovna is a woman who moves to this isolated community to discover what really happened to the husband she thought had died in battle. Lonely and estranged from the villagers as a non-practitioner, Anna Petrovna stakes her life as bond in order to host Samarin in her home. Has she made a bad choice? Balashov is the enigmatic leader of the religious community, who first meets Samarin on the mountain and through his actions brings Samarin to Anna. His followers seek Utopia through personal sacrifice to God, this sacrifice bringing them closer to being angels on earth. It is Balashov's fate that gives title to the book.

This book gets off to a slow start. At first glance, the opening chapters appear to be individual parables instead of a cohesive narrative. The author created a complex web of interconnecting stories, for which a scorecard would be helpful to keep all the characters straight. Once everything falls into place, a reader who truly enjoys historical fiction will be transported. The attention to detail is extraordinary. Another reviewer commented that this book is reminiscent of classic Russian literature translated into English, rather than contemporary fiction. This isn't an easy read, nor one that is easily forgettable.

such as we may come across here and there in the world, is unmixed with compassion. The more we love, the more the object of our love seems to us to be a victim."

Yuri Zhivago, who uttered these words in Boris Pasternak's classic tale Dr. Zhivago, would no doubt find common bond with the setting and characters that inhabit James Meek's wonderful book "The People's Act of Love".

Most of the People's Act is set in 1919 in the village of Yazyk, in Siberia. To call Yazyk the middle of nowhere is to give it too much credit. Russia, now the USSR, is in the midst of its post-revolutionary civil war that has caused untold deaths and facilitated illnesses and famine. Yazyk's end-of-the earth location does not insulate it entirely from these events. The town is run by a stranded division of a Czechoslovakian Legion with no apparent means to return to Prague subsequent to the collapse of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. The Legion is commanded by Captain Matula who for all intents and purposes is both insane and sadistic. The civilians in the town consist mainly of a mystic sect of eunuchs (the "Skoptsy") who believe their self-immolation removes the one body part responsible for most of the world's sins. As far fetched as this may seem, the presence of stranded Czech soldiers and the existence of a sect of castrati inhabiting parts of Siberia is a matter of record and was not a piece of fiction created by Meek solely for this novel.

The town is also inhabited by Anna Petrovna, who appears to be a widow, and her son. The Red Army is making its way towards Yazyk and intends to seek revenge for an act of brutality committed by the Czechs. A younger stranger, Samarin, makes his way into the town. He tells a fantastic story about escaping from a Siberian labor camp. He indicates that he was fattened up before the escape by his prison `guardian', Mohican, so that could eat Samarin after their food ran out. (This tale of cannibalism is also based on real events.)

The story of each group of protagonists is woven skillfully into the narrative. Although written by a British journalist and author in the 21st-century the narrative tone has a very Russian feel to it. The sentence structure, the formality of the conversation between the characters, and a somber, fatalistic tone will resonate with anyone who has read 19th and 20th century Russian literature. This particular structure holds up extremely well as the stories of each protagonist merge and the novel's conclusion approaches.

The book's title is taken from a line uttered by one of its characters. It is a very appropriate title in the sense that despite (or perhaps because of) the macabre nature of some of the events in the novel one theme that remains constant is the question of love and what we flawed creatures do in its name. In an interview about the novel the author made the following statement: If there is one thing which the four central characters in the book . . . agree on, it is that love exists and matters. What they disagree on is what love may be.

This theme of the infinite variability of love and the horrors and selflessness transacted in its name may sound trite or too well worn a path to go down for some. However, in the hands of Meek it comes across as masterful and compelling. The People's Act of Love was one I had trouble putting down once I got past the introductory chapters. If the test of a good novel is whether or not one continues to think about the story after it has been concluded - then People's Act of Love passes with flying colors. It is a gripping yet thoughtful book and any evocations to Russian authors of the 19th-century should be viewed as a well deserved accolade.

At first I wasn't sure, but after several pages I was hooked. One of the most gruesome and realistic portrayals of war and its effect on soldiers and civilians, along with characters you can almost touch, they're so real. Absolutely beautifully written; a joy to read.

Set in Siberia toward the end of the Bolshevik Revolution, this is one of the strangest but most intriguing books I've ever read. The primary subjects are: the rise of communism and some of the underlying reasons and a religious cult that practices castration on those who wish to become "angels" while still here on earth. And did I forget to mention cannibalism? Indeed those were tumultuous and confusing times as the social order defined by czarist Russia and its various institutions collapses.
A glance at the author's credentials shows that he clearly knows his subject. But his approach is to tell the interweaving stories of several different people: the headstrong Anna Petrovna who becomes a war widow and mother at a tender age and moves to a Siberian village to escape her past; her charming but elusive husband; the enigmatic but equally charming Samarin, who escapes a prison camp north of the Arctic circle; and a cast of Czech soldiers that might inhabit any war comedy, e.g. MASH, Hogan's Heroes, etc.
This is definitely NOT a love story, although there are elements of love within. Once the reader adjusts to that fact, it is an engrossing period piece that makes the case for communism (as preferable to what preceded it) by anecdote.

Meek's style has a lot in common with Chekov's--simple, brisk and always on its toes. He too has the uncanny talent for creating brutally realistic characters moreso through perfect pitch and timing rather than straight description. He has a similar absurdist humor also. Sometimes reading this, I would cry and bust out laughing at the same time.

Other aspects of Meek's writing are uniquely impressive. His descriptions of setting are incredible. With a few deft words he creates visual images more exact than most writers do filling up an entire page.

As well-researched and traditionally "Russian" as this book is, it still reads like a modern novel. Meek is concerned with action as well as characterization, adding some mystery and plot twists; and language, sex, and violence are straightforward instead of suggested.
Altogether, the best of many worlds. An unusual and wonderful book.

This book, by its refusal to editorialize and by its determinedly detached, limited omniscient p-o-v, makes few concessions to what usually passes for the classier sort of page-turner meets literary fiction. It has wide appeal--drama in the Siberian hamlet; a cult of castrates; vivid evocations of loneliness, lust, hunger, and idealism; a complicated plot compressed into the action of a couple of days; and a meditation on how passion translates through four protagonists into varieties of love. I cannot, however, give it the full five stars. At times, despite its many merits just listed, it elides over characters, scenes, or motivations. It appears at times stagy and theatrical rather than lifelike and intimate. And, at times the descriptions appear written more with the cinema than the reader in mind--overly stylized and composed.

Halfway through, Anna Petrovna thinks about Mutz, her lover, and finds her dislike of him "taking on a shape and a name: Order. Too great a concern that things should be in one place rather than another. Too wonderful a passion for categories and analysis. {....] It was a love that measured, stood back with its hands on its hips and shook its head, marvelled, and went off to write it up for a thick journal."(170-1)

These qualities permeate the "thick journal" here. Meeks, like his main characters, will not stoop or pander to what passes as the norm or for what's expected from such a novel anymore than what's conventional in this Siberian world upended by war, deprivation, and fanaticism. This steeliness does not exactly detract from the other powers the novel possesses, but, like Mutz and Anna and Samarin and Balashov, the emotional distance that comes between the reader, the author, and his characters prevents easy lulling of character or reader into illusion.

This intellectual determination at the core of "The People's Act of Love", while appropriate given the ways that love displays itself through the four protagonists, does make this as much a treatise on man's inhumanity as much as an insight into how men and women strive to overcome this inhumanity. Mutz mulls: "Back in 1918 the Reds had been men who possessed an idea. Now the Idea possessed men, and armoured trains, and land. From the little Mutz knew, men who had once possessed the Idea were still arguing about what the Idea was; and that was something the Idea, now that it possessed men and armoured trains and a land of its own, was unlikely to tolerate for long."(277)

Perhaps this seriousness of the novel's purpose is inevitable in a work that tries to marry the philosophical concerns of the Russian modern novel with the Western historical and relationship-oriented story. But, it is a very difficult combination, and the prose style Meeks selects--as in the above passages, as indirect narration through the four protagonists dominates the novel's shape far more often than dialogue--heightens the differences between how English and how Russian might portray such fiction of ideas married to the necessity, for us, of action and a bit of adventure along the way. It's no accident that whenever Samarin speaks, the pace alters considerably and the tension quickens. This does work well to increase the necessary plot suspense but it also makes the other three characters appear much less exciting by comparison--maybe this is Meeks' intent, but it does cause the novel to tighten in the middle and then slacken quite a bit as it reaches its final chapters. Still, all in all, I came out of this imperfect but ambitious novel with respect for Meeks' imaginative, scholarly, and intelligent powers as a writer.

Without divulging any denouement, I'd be very eager to have a sequel to this novel--there's plenty of room at the end for more explorations of the outer and inner worlds of some of its main characters as they depart from these pages and face other horizons and fates.

The People's Act of Love by James Meek is overall a brilliant novel and is eloquently written with an aesthetic sense and by my opinion with a hint of philosophy in it (specifically the part where Samarin discusses the Mohican to Anna Petrovna). This novel is a great read.

Taking place in an outlandish Siberian village called Yazyk, and inside the village the denizens of Yazyk include a religious sect of castrates, a regiment of Czech soldiers, a shaman held hostage there, and a widow of a soldier, Anna Petrovna. Yet somewhat subsequently an escaped convict by the name of Samarin comes into the village claiming to be chased by another convict who helped him escape called the Mohican who was to commit cannibalism to Samarin.

Overall the story delves deeper into finding answers and there comes along a few shocks. James Meek did a wonderful job describing the cold weather of Siberia with an aesthetic sense and sometimes the whole plot trudges along as a bit lugubriously but all over I found this novel to be done rather well and definitely found this to be among one of my favorites and also I do recommend it.

a literary thiller that starts with a lot of promise. part joseph conrad, part graham greene, and a pinch of Gabriel Garcia Marquez, and that's all very good. the problem is the thiller part. like almost all thrillers this book disinegrates (in the last 54 pages) into a bunch of cornball speeches and tying-up of things that had me rolling my eyes. verdict: sappy crap at end ruins promising book. try again mr. meek, you can do better.