A debate on the review of The noise of time

In FOOTPATH-11 a review by Irina Popova on The Noise of the Time by Julian Barnes was published. The review is comprehensive and all-rounded indeed. Some things were enlightening for me, for example the reference to the translator Elena Petrova’s account of the fact that there was no signature of Dmitrii Dmitrievich Shostakovich in anti-Solzhenitsyn and anti-Sakharov letters, which I found gratifying. Other details came as completely new knowledge; these are mainly concerning Shostakovich’s works and their description, the mini-opera Anti-Formalist Rayok , for example. And I do share Irina’s opinion that ‘the portrait of the elderly composer […]is again not quite satisfying without the story of his main great achievements’ [Popova 2017: 99]. I consider such profound analysis of the novel and supporting evidence for numerous facts either not mentioned in the novel itself or not given due consideration for producing an authentic portrait of the main character are undoubtedly the merits of the review. The purpose of this article is to question some aspects of the review.

Firstly, I would disagree that the book is not for the Russian or ex-Soviet reader. I view this narration as reinvention of the history, the mechanism commonly exploited by the British writers in general, when designing plots built on bygone events. Yes, the late 80-s and the 90-s witnessed the unprecedented influx of literary works of different genres exploring the totalitarian past of the country. And I would agree with Irina that Russian reader has formed a certain cluster of conceptions regarding Stalin’s era. When the theme seems quite exhausted, there is a risk of forming a formalistic and

stereotypical perception of the truly scaring issues. Time goes by, brings new challenges and some matters start appearing quite trite and dull. I am sure that from time to time there should be a stir, a new vision of the old-dated and allegedly well-familiar issues: personal freedom and state regulations, the problem of choice, sacrifice, inner struggle, fear, talent and responsibility. Let even this “another vision” come from the outsider, the person who genetically doesn’t share the experience. Yes, the references to George Orwell seem inevitable, though I regard Barnes’ musings on the Power-Artist relations as a revision of Orwell’s Big Brother concept. These are universal things. The story is about a personal fight and ongoing negotiation of a man endowed with great talent and susceptibility with himself, his own inner feeble and vulnerable being, his moral principles and beliefs. It is about ubiquitous system, unavoidable and inescapable, unless one finds some inner resources to survive, to proceed, to preserve the core of the vital values.

Thus, another issue I would doubt is that ‘the image of the frightened little person always acting against his conscience and ready for compromises with the regime’ [Popova 2017: 99] dominates the scene . The main way to remain oneself regardless of and a in defiance of the oppressive and permeating total control is being ironic, taking things as they are, not cherishing unrealistic dreams of changing the world but keeping being a professional, a loving family man, a normal person to what extent the situation permits. A man of acute intellect and analytical abilities, he pragmatically, though to onlookers it may seem cowardly, makes choices in favour of his artistic works.

‘But it was not easy being a coward. Being a hero was much easier than being a coward. To be a hero, you only had to be brave for a moment… But to be a coward was to embark on a career that lasted a lifetime… Being a coward required pertinacity, persistence, a refusal to change – which made it, in a way, a kind of courage…The pleasures of irony had not yet deserted him ’[Barnes 2016: 158].

I consider Shostakovich’s argumentation on the heroism of cowardice to be extremely engaging. I would not call it always ‘ acting against his conscienceʼ . I would refer to it as a constant inner struggle and inner work, as a meticulous work to remain reasonable, not to plunge into deconstructive despair. There is no place for black and white for blatant villain and crystal-clear heroes. I find this attempt of introspection into the composer’s mind, tracing his possible trail of thoughts and his very human hesitations as revelations of a true human, normal citizen. It does appeal to me how subtly the author evades the position of a judge or a know-all expert. The narration gives space for speculation, which is invaluable. The book calls for discussion with young readers. And this subtle Barnes’ irony bridging in isomorphic way Shostakovich’s intricate inner reflections and the author’s style of narration gives a definite human touch to the dramatic collision and makes the reader smile and engage and reveals the blatant and yet pregnable nature of the system. The scenes with Comrade Troshin are brilliant in this respect:

‘What a truly great man Stalin is! With all the cares of state, with all that he has to deal with, he knows even about some Shostakovich. He rules half the world and yet he has time for you!’

‘Yes, yes,’ he agreed with feigned zeal. ‘It is truly amazing.’

‘I am aware that you are a well-known composer’, the tutor continued, ‘but who you are in comparison with our Great Leader?’

Guessing that Troshin would not be familiar with the text of the Dargomyzhsky romance, he replied gravely, ‘I am a worm in comparison with his Excellency. I am a worm.’

‘Yes, that’s just it, you are a worm indeed. And it’s a good thing that you now appear to possess a healthy sense of self-criticism’ [Barnes 2016: 126].

So, not that ‘ frightened little personʼ at all, but a person preserving, paraphrasing Comrade’s Troshin words, a healthy sense of irony.

The simplified image of a hero, dissident openly confronting the Power is a myth. The book is about making a conscious choice, of taking responsibility under tough conditions. And it’s not always that appealing. This complicated inner life, is what counts in the narration. I am sure that novels like this one, arousing contradictory opinions and calling for reviewing the past and making one critically perceive situations are a crucial educational tool for young generation of Russian students. Definitely I am with Irina on the point that this is ‘Survival story of any Artist under totalitarian pressure’ [Popova 2017: 100).

Finishing this short answer in response to the review I want to say thank you to Irina Popova for involving me into consideration of the staple issues of the book and enriching my background with interesting links and references.