Sharon Hudgins and her husband took teaching jobs in Irkutsk and Vladivostok, two major cities in Siberia. They had to adjust to life in post-Soviet Russia, a far cry from the way things were at the University of Maryland, where they held teaching positions.

Hudgins is a food and travel writer, so there is much detail about the food, cooking and grocery supplies in Russia. In fact, several chapters seemed pretty much one party after another with the hospitable Russians, who love a get-together with good food and drink, and party hard all night. It's a good way to ignore the intermittant electricity, lack of running water and other infrastructure problems that plague the crumbling post-Soviet urban landscape.

The most interesting part of the book was a stint in Ulan-Ude, capital of the Buryat Republic. The Buryat are a Mongolian people, cousins of the Mongol Horde of Genghis Khan. The only Tibetan lamasery (monastery) is in Ulan-Ude. The Buryat Republic borders Lake Baikal, the deepest, oldest lake in the world, home to unique species of flora and fauna and a fascinating place to read about.

This is a fascinating travel book, with a lot of fun anecdotes and stories about horrific train rides, scary food (a sheep's head with the wool still on it, and blood pudding in a sheep's stomach, no way to say "no thank you" to the amiable hosts who are putting on a real spread for their guests.) If you are interested in Russia, in a part of Russia most Westerners never visit, you should read "The Other Side of Russia."

It's one of the most interesting and readable account of the stalinist era. The book was written by the wife of a famous soviet spy (Ignace Reiss). He was operating in Europe in the thirties (friend of Richard Sorge, Walter Krivitsky...)his amazing history as fighter for comunism and internationalism and his break with Stalin on account of the great purges.
A cosmovision of this part of the european history starting before of the WWI and ending in 1937. A personal and very interesting account.

Reviewed by LUBOMIR REHAK in International Relations,Volume XIII, No 2, August 1996 -

This is probably the most comprehensive volume written about the events which might be considered a landmark in contemporary history. Diego Cordovez, who served as Under Secretary-General for special Political Affairs of the United Nations from 1981 to 1988, recounts the negotiating process that eventually brought about the peace settlement and the withdrawal of Soviet troops from Afghanistan. He is doing it as an insider. It was his mission which, in the end, brought about a solution to a crisis defined by Mikhail Gorbachev as a 'bleeding wound'. Mr. Cordovez' narrative, based wholly on his personal notes and on earlier unpublished documentary sources, is therefore mostly reliable and accurate and is extremely useful for researchers and practitioners of international relations.
As well as being a professional diplomat par excellence, Diego Cordovez is also a fine writer. His co-author, Zelig Harrison, is a professional journalist - for many years he was foreign correspondent for the Washington Post specializing in Asian affairs. He introduces a valuable outside viewpoint. Harrison, however, is not a complete outsider since his analysis of events is based on personal interviews with virtually all the key political actors. He also acquaints the readers with some earlier unknown documents (in particular, from the so-called 'secret file' of the Soviet Communist Party's Politburo) which shed light on the motives of policy formulation that lay behind the decisions taken in Kabul, Islamabad, Moscow and Washington. The authors' account stretches beyond the chronological framework of the actual negotiations which started in 1982 and ended with the signing of the Geneva accords on 14 April 1988. This approach would seem to be justified since it is events in Afghanistan and in the USSR leading up to the Soviet military intervention in December 1979 which account for at least some of the subsequent peculiarities of Soviet and Afghan behaviour at the negotiating table. The authors convincingly dispel the notion that the purpose of the Soviet invasion was to seize control of the Persian gulf using Afghanistan as a spring-board. That was the belief of an influential part of the US political establishment at that time (in particular, of President Carter's national security adviser Zbigniew Brzezinsky). In reality the main reason for the invasion was simpler and more traditional. As a result of authoritative accounts from competent witnesses and judging from recently disclosed documents, the Russians were greatly and justifiably afraid that the then Afghan communist leader Hafizullah Amin would betray them and become an American-supported Afghan Tito on their borders. They therefore acted consistently with their age-old fear of hostile encirclement. This partly explains why the Soviets began sending signals of their desire for a negotiated settlement as early as the first months of their stay in Afghanistan.
The book is full of surprises. The authors clearly demonstrate that there existed a real chance to secure a peaceful settlement in 1983-84, under Yuri Andropov's tenure as the Soviet Communist Party's General Secretary. This chance they believe to have been undermined by hawks in the Reagan administration, firstly by CIA Director William Casey. With his single-minded focus on building up weapons aid to the Afghan resistance, Casey looked on the UN negotiations as a Soviet propaganda ploy. The unease in relations between the Soviet and Afghan leaderships, especially at crucial moments in the negotiations, is another surprise of the book. Stereotypical media accounts led us to think of Babrak Karmal as no more than a Soviet puppet. However the authors refer to a number of instances bearing witness to the fact that Karmal, and his successor Najibullah, not infrequently demonstrated a high degree of independence from Moscow. They effectively managed to impede the negotiating process and, later, to block the formation of a broad coalition government which was in principle endorsed by Moscow. Another widespread assumption - that it was the introduction of Stinger missiles which eventually forced Moscow to agree to the sign peace accords - is convincingly rebuffed by both authors. In fact the Red Army was securely entrenched when the Soviet Union agreed to withdraw. American weaponry certainly raised the ante for Moscow but it was not a crucial factor. Gorbachev's determination to end the Soviet Union's military involvement, and six years of skilful diplomacy were the primary factors which gave the Soviets a face-saving way out.
The chapters which Diego Cordovez devotes to dramatic episodes in the eleven rounds of proximity talks in Geneva between the Afghan and Pakistani Foreign Ministers, the accounts of his innumerable shuttles between Moscow, Kabul, Islamabad, New York and Geneva, as well as commuting to the different areas of Geneva where the Afghans and the Pakistanis lived, and even walking through the different rooms of Palais des Nations, are fascinating. Each step forward, however small, demanded months of hard labour on the part of Mr. Cordovez and his team. It also required the utmost patience, knowledge and understanding of their interlocutors' affairs, of their own and of their superiors' intentions, and even of their psychology, tastes and habits. The brilliance of Mr. Cordovez's diplomatic performance is indisputable and brings to mind one of François de Callières remarks that: 'It is one of the greatest secrets of the art of negotiating, to know how to distill, as it were drop by drop, into the minds of those with whom we negotiate, the things which it is our interest they should believe'. Mr. Cordovez demonstrated an outstanding ability to distill into the minds of both the Afghans and Pakistanis, and the Russians and Americans, the idea of the profitability of peace despite the unfavourable circumstances with which he was confronted at virtually every stage of the negotiations.
The situation was desperate even on the eve of the final ceremony in Geneva when the documents had been finalized and were ready for signing and the consent of all parties involved had been received. At this stage the problem of symmetry concerning the termination of Soviet aid to Afghanistan and US aid to Pakistan and the Afghan resistance, not adequately reflected in the draft text, unexpectedly became the sticking point that could ruin the settlement. Basically, Moscow agreed to withdraw its forces in exchange for a simultaneous cut-off of US aid but did not consider it had any obligation to terminate its aid to Kabul. This caused strong dissatisfaction in Washington. The inventiveness of Diego Cordovez, his good contacts with both Russians and Americans as well as a sufficient degree of mutual confidence in relations between Moscow and Washington at the time luckily allowed the formulation of a joint position acceptable to both superpowers, though this was not formally included in the documents. In his final statement, after the signing of the Geneva accords on 14 April 1988, the US Secretary of State George Schultz spoke publicly about the compromise which had been reached. He pointed out that 'the obligations undertaken by the guarantors are symmetrical'. 'In this regard', he added, 'the United States has advised the Soviet Union that the US retains the right, consistent with its obligations as a Guarantor, to provide military assistance to parties in Afghanistan. Should the Soviet Union exercise restraint in providing military assistance to parties in Afghanistan, the US similarly will exercise restraint.'
This book covers the wide range of factors which contributed to the Geneva accords and the withdrawal of Soviet troops which was one of the crucial events leading to the ending of the Cold War. The authors give due credit to Gorbachev and his colleagues in the Soviet leadership who carefully and skilfully prepared the ground for disengagement and endorsed UN peace efforts in the face of strong and agg

Joint efforts of such experts in Russia as Kevin Moss and Simon Karlinsky backed up during fifteen years (!) by the Gay Sunshine publisher Winston Leland made this book possible. Being Russian and gay, I can say in all sincerety - there is not much to be added to this perfect work. They highlighted slight homosexual overtones in the writings of such celebrities as Pushkin and Tolstoi, gave us an insight into gay side of life of Nikolai Gogol and introduced the English-speaking readers to Russian gay writers, whose works were hushed up during the Soviet era. The translation are exquisite. The book is both an entertaining reading and an excellent reference source.

This book upsets the pieties of the left without serving the agenda of the right. No wonder some reviewers have accused Russell of pardoning Hoffa post-humously, while others have accused him of undue vilification. They're confused, because Out of the Jungle is not warped by the ideological orthodoxies that have made so many other books of labor history so boring, predictable, sanctimonious and sometimes even dishonest. Out of the Jungle is a breakthrough, a meticulous, clear-headed analysis of what made Hoffa an effective leader. One can only hope more labor historians will follow Russell's lead in the future

Vasil Bykov is the Belorussian author of a dozen novels based on his own wartime experience. He has been decorated for "Laureate of the Government of the USSR", and a number of his works have been made into plays and movies. "Pack of Wolves" was his first book to be translated into English. This engaging story is presented in a series of flash-backs revolving around a suspenseful life-or-death struggle. Levchuk, a one-armed veteran, arrives in an unfamiliar city, hoping to find someone he met thirty years ago. That brief meeting took place during the War. As Levchuk nervously awaits his reunion with a man he never got to know, he reminisces about a fateful two-day ordeal in 1943: ...Levchuk, a machine-gunner, has been disabled by a sniper's bullet. A stupid, useless wound, just because he had craved a smoke. So now he must leave the front, and worse, accompany an aging orderly, a gravely injured paratrooper, and a pregnant radio-operator to the medical unit. It will be a dangerous journey. To break out of German encirclement, the little band forges a swamp, wrestling their horse and cart through treacherous bogs. They narrowly elude a Nazi patrol, and lose one of their number when they are forced to run for their lives under fire. But their ordeal is only beginning. Klava goes into labor just as local Polizei (collaborators) strike their trail. A drying-shed in a burned-out village provides a shelter for Klava to deliver her son, until the refugees are set upon by their pursuers. Then begins their desperate battle, only now it is for the survival of the band's newest member. And ultimately Levchuk will have to make a life-changing decision... Like all of Bykov's stories, "Pack of Wolves" addresses the humanity of the characters as they struggle with inhumane circumstances.

Any potential buyer would be well advised to ignore the other review, which denied me the pleasures of this two-volume set for too long. While intended for the connoisseur or scholar, it has plenty of eye candy for the aficionado of glossy picture books and shelter magazines. Pavlovsk is the jewel in the crown of neoclassicism. Roughly contemporaneous with Monticello, it reveals Jefferson as a semi-talented, rustic amateur. By contrast, the buildings and park of Pavlovsk were designed by Charles Cameron, perhaps the greatest architect of the period. Pavlovsk's owner, the Empress Maria Fyodorovna, combined unlimited resources with exquisite taste and real talent as an artisan. The results are admirably documented in this two-volume set. Outdoors, vistas to delight from every vantage point; inside, one ravishing interior after the other, all filled with furniture, art and objects of the finest quality and often great historical interest. Best of all, the set captures the unique spirit of Pavlovsk. Opulent enough for a royal residence, the palace was nevertheless built on a sufficiently modest scale that even the twenty-first century reader can imagine himself or herself living happily ever after in its rooms and green spaces. A must for the library of any serious student of the decorative arts and architecture of the eighteenth century.

I read this book for a research paper on the Russian Revolution and I must say that it was excellent. The information was self explanatory and concise. It was all around a generally fun book to read. I recomend it to those who are interested in Russian history but who do not like to have to read a book with a dictioary by their side.

In an original new work of social history on the early Stalinist era, Lynne Viola examines an aspect of Soviet collectivization hitherto unconsidered, namely that of intense peasant resistance to the policy. Historians traditionally conceived of Stalin's policies in the countryside in purely totalitarian terms. These focused primarily or even entirely on an overbearing regime whose subjects were simply regarded as victims. Viola, in a superb example of historical revisionism, allows for the possibility of resistance by those once thought to have played little if any role during these years. In Viola's countryside the traditional victims of collectivization, the peasants of Ukraine, the Russian Volga, the Northern Caucasus, and other regions were just as influential in the events as those making and enforcing collectivization policies.

Viola focuses on nearly all aspects of peasant revolt during the years of collectivization, from the seemingly irrational mass destruction of livestock to apocalyptic rumor mongering to the more everyday forms of rebellion like undermining Soviet grain collection efforts. Very few segments of rural society are left untreated, and perhaps the most thoroughly considered are women. Women were the agents of much peasant resistance precisely because Soviet authorities gave them more leeway due to their perceived political ignorance and naivete. In other words, those who are traditionally seen as the most vulnerable were in many ways among the most influential.

For those wishing to strengthen their traditional conceptions of Stalinist society, Viola's landmark study will prove to be a serious disappointment, for it confirms very little of what was previously thought about the process of collectivization. Instead, her work challenges us with an entirely new vision. Viola meticulously utilizes an impressive collection of archival materials to fashion her arguments, and at the same time she remains open to the worthiest contributions in the fields of peasant, gender, and religious studies. Those interested in these fields as well as in Soviet history in general will gain an important perspective from one of the twentieth century's most important episodes. Viola, a leader among Western scholars of the early Soviet era, has made a most invaluable contribution to its literature.

Detailed and focussed on the Volga countryside of Russia, 1917-.
If Trotsky and Lenin suceeded in mounting a succesful revolution, why did they succeed in overcoming all opposition and securing the Soviet State?
Through a detailed analysis of the tensions and pressures that ensue. A little narrow in focus for the first-time reader, it would be difficult to get hold of the fdetails firmly. The general reader in depth should try instead People's Tragedy by the same author. This retains the same readabilityy, but you need to be able to place in context some of the developments in the village and their correspondence with events in the Civil War to get all you can out of it.

Something most British BA students of history will want by them when writing essays to give unreproachable quotable stuff, and MA students in the area will want to have opinions upon.