Book Review: The Pear Field (მსხლების მინდორი)

The Pear Field in English and Georgian editions

Ekvtimishvili, Nana. The Pear Field. Translated by Elizabeth Heighway, Peirene Press Ltd, 2020.

The Pear Field has been a critical darling in both English and in Georgian, and it is the first Georgian novel I’ve read in Georgian (with help from the English translation). I’m a big fan of literature in translation and try not to be a snob about it, but I’ve got to say that here the original Georgian version was better. The English version felt quite abridged, and while some of the choices made perfect sense (what does the average English speaker know about the difference between a khrushchyovka and chekhuri proekti or the stereotypes of people from different regions of Georgia? In that context, it’s not informative), others I really missed in the English version. The Georgian descriptions were longer (not just because I read slowly), sly language jokes were missing (I understand that this is not easy to translate, but the ones I understood in Georgian were pretty great…I probably missed even more), and anecdotes and additional examples were cut. They didn’t move the plot forward, but they did contribute to the mood of the book. I think these excisions are what made the English version feel more bleak and depressing to me, while the Georgian version had a lightness and vibrancy to it. (Interestingly enough, this is very similar to my reaction to the author’s film “In Bloom”.)

Most reviews of this book mention that horrible things happen to children in it. Having read these reviews, I was prepared and didn’t find them as awful as I probably would have otherwise. I think reading in Georgian was also helpful here, because I couldn’t understand the awful details on the first read but I could get the gist, so I was more mentally prepared. I recommend this strategy if it applies to you.

So far all I have written about this book is criticism, but I do think it was very good. It’s just not a book that’s easy to explain why it’s good. Lela, the main character, isn’t exactly likable, but she is admirable in her way, and her refusal to give in keeps the story going. The same could be said of many of the characters: you don’t like them, but they’re interesting. Some, of course, you will detest. Ekvtimishvili’s writing is very visual and her descriptions are fantastic. I know Kerchi Street, where the story is set, well, so it was very easy for me to visualize, but I think others can do so as well. Her descriptions of people are full of life and a bit of humor. They keep the book from being bleak.

With the content warning mentioned above, I do recommend this book as a description of life in Tbilisi in the 1990s. It’s quite short (the English version is 163 pages, the Georgian 211), so it’s not a big time commitment like The Eighth Life is. If you’re a Georgian language learner looking to read in Georgian, this seems like a decent place to start. There is lots of dialogue using everyday speech, which is easy to understand. You probably won’t understand the vocabulary used in the violent scenes, but that was OK by me. I “warmed up” by reading two children’s books in English and their Georgian translations first, and while I was glad to have the English version, too, I was able to understand the Georgian well enough without the English to compare them.

One word of advice: pay attention to the boys in the school. I found myself thinking of them as a group rather than individuals (perhaps just like the system did!), and that left me confused about a major plot point later on.

English version: 3.5/5
Georgian version: 4.5/5

Movie Review: Tangerines (მანდარინები)

Tangerines movie poster (image from Wikipedia)

Tangerines/მანდარინები/Mandariinid

Language: Russian and Estonian with (teeny-tiny) English subtitles

Availability: available on DVD and Amazon streaming in the US

This film was produced in a collaboration between Estonian and Georgian filmmakers and actors. It was Estonia’s nominee for the Academy Award, and made it to the short list, though it did not win. “Tangerines” is a lovely movie about older Estonian men who don’t want to leave their homes in Abkhazia (each for their own reasons), despite the escalating violence. They come across a wounded Georgian soldier and a wounded Chechen mercenary, and take them in, and the film follows the political, ethnic, and inter-personal relationships and tensions that follow. This film was purposefully very multi-ethnic and multi-lingual. The characters ultimately learn to move past their ethnic differences and prejudices to help each other in an extreme situation. As one would expect in a film about war, there is violence and sadness, but my overall feelings toward the film were positive. The only thing I didn’t like about the film was the teeny-tiny subtitles (on the edition I rented from Netflix, at least)…I had just been to the eye doctor, who cleared my vision as good, and I really had to squint to read these. I had an advantage over others, though, as I can understand the Russian part, at least! (My Estonian however, is non-existent).

Movie Review: In Bloom (გრძელი ნათელი დღეები)

In Bloom (Image from Wikipedia)

 In Bloom (გრძელი ნათელი დღეები)

Language: Georgian with English subtitles

Availability: available on DVD in the US, scheduled as part of the “Discovering Georgian Cinema” series in Washington DC: info here

This was the Georgian movie that everyone was talking about last year, but I just recently watched it for the first time. To be honest, I didn’t enjoy it as much as I thought I would, though I still thought it was good, I had just heard so much hype that nothing could live up to it. The beginning of the movie made me smile because of just how realistic it was–despite the passage of 20+ years and vastly different political and economic conditions than those in the movie (it’s set in 1992), the day-to-day conversations were word-for-word what I have often heard amongst my friends, co-workers, and host family. The story is quite good, and the main characters are very believable and relatable (and portrayed by very talented young actresses). The ending, however, was unsatisfying, and one of my viewing companions compared it (unfavorably) to “one of those weird French movies from the 70s”.

The English title “In Bloom” is not a direct translation of the Georgian title “გრძელი ნათელი დღეები” (grdzeli nateli dgheebi), which means “Long, Light Days” and is also a play on one of the main characters’ name: Natela (Natia). To me, the Georgian title better suits the film: it captures the feeling of reminiscing about teenage days. Even though some of the situations and events in the film were rather dire, the characters lived their lives, and found joy in them. Despite the dark subject matter, there was a sense of lightness and hope throughout.

“In Bloom” is certainly worth watching, but personally, I preferred Since Otar Left for a view of Georgia in the 90s, and Tbilisi I Love You to represent Georgia today and its recent history.