Gillian Slovo: Ice Road

Reviewed by PHILIPPA JAMIESON

Somewhere in the Arctic, 1933. The Chelyuskin is on a scientific and patriotic mission through polar waters from the Soviet Union's west to its far east, but the forces of nature are too great, and the ship becomes ice-bound.

There is nothing its crew can do but wait for help to arrive. On board is Irina Davydovna, a cleaner of humble origins. Facing death on the voyage gives her the courage to leave her husband and change the course of her life.

Leningrad, 1933. Boris Aleksandrovich and his wife Lina are contemplating the prospect of their daughter Natasha coming of age and marrying. Boris' friend Anton Antonovich finds an orphaned street urchin and adopts her.

Boris, who met Irina by chance (in a broom cupboard), suggests she join Anton and the child as a housekeeper.

Two families. The first is privileged by virtue of Boris' career in the political elite, although as they discover, no one is immune to the cruelty of Stalin's regime, and to seek justice could put others in jeopardy. Light, laughing Natasha becomes clouded by a dull hatred.

The second family is an unorthodox trio: the historian Anton, under pressure to rewrite history; street kid Anya, used to making herself invisible, unwilling to let anyone through her protective emotional barrier; and Irina, an astute observer of human character.

Almost another character is the ever-present cold, familiar and bleak, an acquaintance you can't shake off as it seeps into the bones.

Stalin's rule begins to sour, without any apparent reason. People are arrested and shot for being traitors, or they simply disappear. The grand themes of the time are mirrored in microcosm in the characters' lives: love, loyalty and patriotism are weighed down by betrayal, a gradual breakdown of trust, cruelty and despair. The war years bring further trials to an already broken people.

From the outset, this novel pulled me along in its undertow. Gillian Slovo has a gift for painting a human story against the backdrop of a disturbing period of history. She has ably conveyed a Russian sensibility: passion and sadness, resignation and determination.

Although sombre, this powerful writing touches the core of human nature with honesty and compassion. Highly recommended.

Little, Brown, $34.99

* Philippa Jamieson is a Dunedin freelance writer.