Moscow: Zvenya, 598 pp.
M.E. Sharpe, 208 pp., $24.95 (paper)
Siktivar: Siktivkarskii Universitet, 181 pp.
Petrozavodsk: Karelskii Nauchni Tsentr RAN, 225 pp.
Kirov: Kirovskaya Oblastnaya Tipografia, 318 pp.
Zheleznogorsk (Krasnoyarsk-26): Museino-Vystavochny Tsentr, 256 pp.
Indiana University Press, 364 pp., $35.00
To some Russians, the memory of a first encounter with Alexander Sol-zhenitsyn's Gulag Archipelago is as much a physical memory—the blurry, mimeographed text, the dog-eared paper, the dim glow of the lamp switched on late at night—as it is one of reading the revelatory text itself. Although nearly three decades have passed since unbound, hand-typed samizdat manuscripts of the work began circulating around what used to be the Soviet Union, many can also still recall the emotions stirred by possessing the book, remembering who gave it to them, who else knew about it, whom they passed it on to next. In part, this was because The Gulag Archipelago, banned at home and published to great acclaim abroad, had the allure of the forbidden.
Review, 4504 words
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