Shout Out from Central Asia

Tucked in Central Asia is the landlocked country of Kyrgyzstan. Despite being physically isolated by the towering mountain ranges surrounding it, Kyrgyzstan was nevertheless an important intersection of several civilizations. Its strategic location also made it an important crossroad for the Silk Road and other equally important trade routes that plied the Asian to European route. It also formed part of powerful empires such as Genghis Khan’s Mongol Empire during the 13th century. Following the decline of the once-mighty empire, Kyrgyzstan was invaded by Kalmyks, Manchus, and Uzbeks before it was again annexed by another powerful and influential empire. It was annexed as part of the Russian Empire during the Russian Revolution.

To the rest of the world, the mention of Kyrgyzstan will barely register any reaction. However, the first thing that comes to mind would be its connection with the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR). With the fall of Tsarist Russia, Kyrgyzstan, or Kirgiziya as it would be referred to by both Russian and Soviet rulers, inevitably became part of the newly-established USSR. It was, at first, referred to as the Kirghiz Autonomous Soviet Socialist Republic before being established as a full Union Republic of the USSR on December 5, 1936. With President Mikhael Gorbachev’s democratic reforms in the early 1990s, Kyrgyzstan eventually gained its own independence on August 31, 1991.

The fall of the USSR also provides a window of opportunity to explore its former member states. What better way of doing so than immersing in their literature. In the ambit of Kyrgyz literature, and by extension, Russian literature, one of the leading figures is Chingiz Aitmatov. Born Chinghiz Torekulovich Aitmatov, his parents’ mixed heritage – his father was Kyrgyz while his mother was a Tatar – provided him with a lush tapestry upon which to draw inspiration. His path to the echelons of literature – and politics – however, was not an easy one. At fourteen, he had to quit school and earn a living. This did not preclude him from pursuing his dreams of being a writer, moving from the Kyrgyz countryside to Moscow to fulfill his dreams. His perseverance paid off as he slowly but surely built a literary career that produced a slew of short stories and novels.

“But I’ve been through so much things that other people, please God, will not experience in a hundred years. I‘m still alive and healthy, so no doubt fate gave me those experiences for a purpose. Perhaps so that I can tell others about them, first and foremost my children. Of course there is a general truth for everyone, but everyone has his own understanding about things, and this understanding dies with him. When a man hovers between life and death in the midst of a world conflict, when he is nearly killed a hunded times over and yet still survives, then he has learnt a great deal about good and evil, truth and falsehood.”

~ Chingiz Aitmatov, The Day Lasts More than a Hundred Years

Among Aitmatov’s most popular works was И дольше века длится день (And longer than a century lasts a day). The novel was originally published as a series in Russian in 1980 in the Novy Mir literary magazine. A year later, the series was published in a book-size version in Roman-Gazeta with the title Буранный полустанок (The Railway Siding Burannyi). The book’s global reach was further driven by an English translation released in 1988, with the title The Day Lasts More Than A Hundred Years. The English translation by John French made it one of the rare books written by  Central Asian authors translated into English. 

Set in the early years of the Cold War, the novel transported the readers to the Sarozek desert in Kazakhstan, at a remote railway junction called Boranly-Burannyi. The junction was home to a couple of families, the patriarchs of which are all working in the railway station. The crux of the story was the recent death of Kazangap, a prominent figure in the junction. Kazangap was also the oldest and the wisest member of the group; he spent four decades working at the junction. Kazangap was living alone; he was also a widower and his children have also moved out. He was, however, not friendless. Immediately presiding over the arrangements for his funeral was his friend, Burranyi Yedigei, a railway signalman who was also the novel’s central character. Kazangap’s surviving family was promptly informed of his demise.

Intent to fulfill his friend’s wishes of being buried in the ancient cemetery called Ana-Beiit (Mother’s Grave), Yedigei led the funeral procession; the procession entailed a journey of about 30 kilometers. During the journey to the grave – the story encompassed a single day – Yedigei recounted his personal story. During the Second World War, he served as a soldier but was subsequently dismissed from the service after suffering from shell shock. He was also a fisherman at the Aral Sea before he and his family moved to the junction. It was at the junction that he became fast friends with Kazangap. Kazangap, on the other hand, was accused of being the son of a kulak; a kulak is a Russian peasant but had the capacity to own land and hire labor. While the allegations were untrue, he was ostracized by his town, prompting him to leave his hometown and settle at the Junction.

Other characters were also introduced as the story moved forward. Among them was Abutalip Kuttybaev. Abutalip was a teacher who, like Yedigei, served during the war but was seen as a traitor after he was taken as a prisoner of war and refused to commit ritual suicide; like Japanese samurais who commit seppuku, captured soldiers have sworn to take their own lives. Through Abutalip’s story, the readers were regaled with details of the Stalinist propaganda and how it has oppressed and continues to oppress innocent individuals deemed as traitors by the state. With the Soviet regime hot on his heels, Abutalip, his wife  Zaripa, and their two sons moved to the Junction.

“At sea a man feels different, not like he does on dry land, even if all is calm around and no storm is threatening. However freely, however delightful the reflections of sunsets or sunrises on the smooth water, you still have to return to shore eventually – your own or another, but still to shore. You can never be at sea forever. And ashore quite a different life awaits you. The sea is temporary, the dry land is permanent. If it frightens you to go ashore, then you must find an island, a place of your own, and there you must always remain.”

~ Chingiz Aitmatov, The Day Lasts More than a Hundred Years

This was just one of the novel’s several layers. Woven into the rich tapestry were details of folklore, myths, and legends interjected all over the story. We read about a local heroine the traditional burial ground was named after, Naiman-Ana. According to local lore, her son was captured by the fictional Zhuan’zhuan tribe. The tribe is known for brutally erasing their captive’s memories, thus, resulting in a mankurt; this is a fictional legend popularized by Aitmatov in his work. Bereft of identity and memory and identity, mankurts work as subservient slaves carrying out their master’s wishes and tending livestock. The mankurt, however, was no ordinary fictional creation as it was a depiction of how Soviet propaganda effectively muted the Central Asian identity. The region’s culture, language, and traditions were lost in the Soviet’s pursuit of conformity. Other folkloric elements detailed stories of forbidden love.

History and memory were also prevalent in the novel. On the journey to the cemetery, Yedigei regaled the readers about the time he lived as a fisherman along the Aral Sea. In a sort of soliloquy, he talked about the history of his people. The novel also extensively grappled with the dichotomies between traditions and modernization. The novel’s main premise was a prevalent example. The Soviet regime banned all religious practices and rituals; they were deemed anti-Soviet. However, Yedigei refused to adhere to this and proceeded to give his friend a traditional burial. A generational gap was portrayed in the attitude – of arrogance – displayed by Sabitzhan during the funeral; Sabitzhan was Kazangap’s only son. However, he did not care much about his father’s death or the funeral arrangements. He was dismissive of everyone else. Only Yedigei’s wisdom and sense of self-control kept him from giving his friend’s son a beating.

Adding a certain level of complexity to the story was a subplot involving two cosmonauts (one American and one Russian) and their unexpected contact with an intelligent extraterrestrial life form. Together, they traveled to the planet Lesnaya Grud (The Bosom of the Forest). On the night Kazangap passed away, Yedigei witnessed a rocket launch into the air. As if to underline further the dichotomies between modernization and traditions, the launch site of the Soviet rocket, Sarozek-1, was a stone’s throw away from Yedigei’s railway junction. Despite the progress and development symbolized by the launch site, the junction was left mostly untouched by the development taking place everywhere.

The science fiction facet of the story highlighted the quest of the United States and the Soviet Union to explore outer space. The two superpowers have a shared dream of domination, not only on Earth but also beyond it. Ironically, the space station the two nations shared was named Parity. Their response to the news of the existence of intelligent extraterrestrial life forms further underlined this. They projected themselves as cooperating and coordinating in the name of progress; they were driven by the goal of exploiting huge mineral resources. However, it was increasingly becoming palpable how these nations were driven by their desire to seize power. They were never outright about their real intentions. Years since the publication of the novel and this still remains true.

“The sun was going down, sinking heavily towards the end of the day, its great mass slowly slipping closer and closer down the horizon. The light of the setting sun was changing from minute to minute. In the belly of the sunset, darkness was imperceptively being born, a pouring together of the blue of the evening light into the gold of the brighlty lit sky.”

~ Chingiz Aitmatov, The Day Lasts More than a Hundred Years

Aitmatov, deemed by many as the most popular Kyrgyz, writer or not, astutely wove the various elements of the novel together with his evocative writing. He made the Kazakh steppe come alive despite its seemingly arid and drub appearance. This setting, remote and rarely read about in books, elevated the story. At times, Aitmatov’s descriptive prose made the steppes feel like a product of fantasy. He made it come alive with the stories of its people and their legends. References to the changing season also captured the changing scenery, a microcosm of the changes brought about by development.

But the brilliance of the story lies in how Aitmatov managed to cast a net on a vast set of subjects while keeping the story character-centric. The subjects the story explored went beyond the Kazakh steppes but the novel’ was about the novel’s focus was on the stories the characters have to convey. Aitmatov conjured a diverse cast of three-dimensional and well-written characters. Even though Yedigei, the main character who steered the narrative, loomed above the story, he was surrounded by equally riveting characters such as Abutalip, Ukubala, and Yelizarov. Each character gave the story different textures. The novel, however, does drag on some parts and the subplot eventually peters out. Its flaws, however, do little to undermine the achievements of the story.

The success of The Day Lasts More than A Hundred Years shed light on Central Asia, a part of the world rarely read about in literature. With his evocative prose, Aitmatov transported readers across the world to the Kazakh steppes, a remote and seemingly unimpressive place. He breathed life into this place by capturing its colorful myths and the riveting stories of the people populating it. Through them, he examined a wide spectrum of subjects, including international relations with the oppressive presence of Stalinist propaganda lurking in the background. The story also explored contrasting but profound subjects such as life and death, and modernization and tradition. In the background, history, and memory remained prevalent. Aitmatov is an influential and seminal Kyrgyz, and by extension, Central Asian voice with an extensive oeuvre. The Day Lasts More than A Hundred Years was a testament to the power of his storytelling.

“You must have the will to live on the Sarozek junctions – otherwise you perish. The steppe is vast and man is small. The steppe takes no sides; it doesn’t care if you are in trouble or if all is well with you; you have to take the steppe as it is. But a man cannot remain indifferent to the world around him; it worries him and torments him to think that he could be happier somewhere else, and that he is where he is simply through a mistake of fate.”

~ Chingiz Aitmatov, The Day Lasts More than a Hundred Years
Ratings

81%

Characters (30%) – 26%
Plot (30%) – 21%
Writing (25%) – 19%
Overall Impact (15%) – 15%

For the first time since I started reading, I have finally taken a trip to Central Asia. Before I read the book, I have never read any work of a Central Asian writer, something I didn’t realize until the pandemic started. I first came across Chingiz Aitmatov’s The Day Lasts More than A Hundred Years through an online bookseller. I had no inkling about who Aitmatov was nor do I have an iota about what the book was about. Nevertheless, the book piqued the inner adventurer in me. Among his works, The Day Lasts More than A Hundred Years was one of the most renowned. The setting felt strange but, at the same time, a little familiar. I have seen images of the steppes in documentaries and encyclopedias but Aitmatov’s intimate writing gave me an even more insightful view of the steppes, its people, its history, and its traditions. Being juxtaposed with the Soviet era made the story all the more compelling. Overall, it was an insightful read. I hope I get to read more works of Aitmatov and his fellow Central Asian writers.

Book Specs

Author: Chingiz Aitmatov
Translator (from Russian): John French
Publisher: Indiana University Press
Publishing Date: 1988 (1980)
Number of Pages: 352
Genre: Historical, Science, Literary

Synopsis

An extraordinary novel set in the vast windswept Central Asian steppes and the infinite reaches of galactic space. From elements of myth, history, realistic narrative, and science fiction, Chingiz Aitmatov has woven a rich tapestry that blends cosmic speculation with the age-old legends of the Asiatic steppes. This powerful tale offers a vivid view of the culture and values of the Soviet Union’s Central Asian peoples.

Chingiz Aitmatov, a leading Soviet writer from Kirghizia, is the author of Plakka (The Executioner’s Block) and the play, The Ascent of Mount Fuji.

About the Author

Chinghiz Torekulovich Aitmatov (as transliterated from Russian; Kyrgyz: Чыңгыз Төрөкулович Айтматов, Chynggyz Törökulovich Aytmatov) was born on December 12, 1928, in Sheker, Kirgiziya, U.S.S.R. (now in Kyrgyzstan) to parents who were local civil servants. His father Torekul Aitmatov was one of the first Kyrgyz communists and was the second secretary of the Kyrgyz Regional Committee. However, In 1937, his father was accused of anti-Soviet bourgeois nationalism and was arrested while attending the Institute for Red Professorship, a graduate-level institute dedicated to Marxist social sciences, in Moscow. He was eventually executed in 1938. Following his father’s execution, Aitmatov was raised by his mother and grandmother.

Aitmatov attended a Soviet school until he was fourteen when he was forced to drop out from school to find work. He worked as an assistant to the Secretary at the Village Soviet, followed by jobs as a tax collector, a loader, and an engineer’s assistant, among others. Despite his jobs, his grandmother ensured that he kept in touch with Kyrgyz culture and traditions. She took him to traditional Kyrgyz weddings, festivals, funerals, local music and dance performances, and to meetings with Kyrgyz storytellers. Meanwhile, his mother, wanting him to be successful within the Soviet state, taught him to speak Russian and sparked his love of Russian literature.

Following the end of the Second World War, Aitmatov turned to school, enrolling at the Dzhambul Zootechnical College in 1946. Two years later, he studied at the Animal Husbandry Division of the Kyrgyz Agricultural Institute in Frunze (present-day Bishkek). During this time, Aitmatov began writing short stories. To advance his writing skills, he attended the Maxim Gorky Literature Institute in Moscow from 1956 to 1958. Post-graduation, Aitmatov started working for Pravda in 1959 as the newspaper’s correspondent in Kirgiziya.

Aitmatov’s first literary works were published in 1952 in Russian: The Newspaper Boy Dziuio and Ашым.Ак Жаан (White rain, 1954) was his first work written in Kyrgyz. He started gaining more attention with his 1958 novel Jamila and achieved major recognition with the collection of short stories Povesti gor i stepey (Tales of the Mountains and Steppes, 1963). The book earned him the Lenin Prize in 1963. Among his most important works are Trudnaya pereprava (A Difficult Passage,1956), Litsom k litsu (Face to Face, 1957), Pervy uchitel (The First Teacher, 1967), Proshchay, Gulsary! (Farewell, Gulsary!, 1967), and Bely parokhod (The White Ship, 1967). Subsequent novels, written originally in Russian, include I dolshe veka dlitsya den (The Day Lasts More Than a Hundred Years, 1981), Plakha (The Place of the Skull, 1986), and Tavro Kassandry (The Mark of Cassandra, 1995). His works earned him the Soviet State Prize for literature in 1968, 1977, and 1983. 

Apart from writing, Aitmatov was also active in the Soviet political and diplomatic scene. In 1966, he was made a member of the Supreme Soviet of the U.S.S.R. The year after, he was made a member of the Executive Board of the Writers’ Union of the U.S.S.R. He also served as an adviser to Soviet President Mikhail Gorbachev and as the Soviet ambassador to Luxembourg. From the 1990s, Aitmatov was assigned as the Kyrgyz ambassador to the European Union, NATO, UNESCO, and several European countries. He also served as a member of parliament in Kyrgyzstan.

Aitmatov passed away on June 10, 2008, due to complications of pneumonia.