Ganieva’s novel grapples with the powerlessness of its protagonists amidst old social (and political) structures that persist in a new post-Soviet age of faux democracy and social media.
The Moscow Times about Bride and Groom and The Mountain and the Wall
Readers (Americans in particular) would do well to acknowledge what the novel beautifully illustrates: that there are many different Islams, each infused with local particularities, and that it is often impossible to tell truth from heresy, self from other/God, spiritual guide from charlatan.
Ruchama
Johnston-Bloom about Bride and Groom
It is a work that can taste the fascinating and intense narrative of Russia. This work awakens the world's largest continent, which has been forgotten since the 90's.
Future of Korea about Offended Sensibilities
(Republic of Korea)
A story of two young people who return home to Dagestan from Moscow to satisfy their families’ insistence that they marry. Both are forced to balance their respect for tradition with their cosmopolitan understanding of love and romance, but as much as they try, their individual stories are mere fodder for the dysfunctional social order built on systemic corruption and terror.
The World Literature Today journal (USA)
Ganieva has both expanded the capacity of the Russian language in her prose and used her public platform as an author to advocate for important political causes.
The Baltic-based Meduza
Selv om hun er del av en politisk dreining i russisk litteratur, skiller hun seg likevel ut blant samtidsforfattere.
Ingunn Lunde, professor i russisk (Norway)
What was background now becomes foreground: the corruption, the state repression, the simmering conflict between the two mosques in town, but also the Sufi mysticism that infuses the book.
Globe and Mail (Canada)
Ganieva’s writing is visual: the characters and settings come easily to the mind’s eye. If a film script is not in the offing, someone should consider it. (It has already been adapted for radio by the BBC.)
The Asian Review of Books (Hong Kong)
Moreover, as a woman writer, Ganieva injects a different gender dynamic into the Caucasus narrative.
Los Angeles Review of Books (USA)
As writers, we shouldn’t dismiss politics and imagine we can retreat into a realm of pure aesthetic forms but instead should do as Alisa Ganieva does and consciously use aesthetics as a form for our politics.
The Kenyon Review (USA)
Ganieva’s writing is consistently witty and energetic, crafting an appropriately complicated image of a place and people united and divided by tradition and progress, old grudges and new unions.
Publishers Weekly
Ganieva explores Dagestan’s most urgent socio-political issues – highlighting ‘nepotism, corruption, gang-clans rule, unemployment, intra-Muslim religious clashes’ – not only to provide a window into a poorly understood area, but to highlight the complications of a region in transition. The book’s central characters, Marat and Patya, must decide whether to pursue a life on their own in Moscow or bend to the desires and expectations of their parents and wider communities in Dagestan, where arranged marriages are the norm.
Rather than crafting a character study or a love-at-first-sight romance (though the novel includes elements of both), Ganieva attempts to encapsulate Dagestan’s complexities, interrogating its customs, politics, and religion.
The Full Stop
Bride and Groom is a nice little novel of contemporary Dagestan life, Ganieva's light touch allowing for a low-key but still very revealing socio-cultural profile. A consistently humorous touch, and the weaving in of Sufi-tradition – explained more fully by Ganieva in her Afterword – make for a sprightly novel.
Complete Review
Ganieva leads the narrative into some unexpected places, grappling with the weight of history and questions of corruption along the way. In an afterword to this edition, Ganieva also explores the influence of Sufism on her novel — one more layer in a meticulously arranged narrative.
The Words without Borders
Ganieva conjures up a colourful world full of strange, comic and menacing characters that feel like they came out of a literary cross between Goodfellas and My Big Fat Greek Wedding.
The Guardian (UK)
On the face of it, then, a conventional tale, but Ganieva sets Patya and Marat in a world riddled with superstition and ancient folklore as well as gangs of young Muslim men protecting their territory. Marat visits a fortune-teller; Patya talks to her grandmother over the samovar. Every action, no matter how insignificant, has a meaning. The Welsh accents of the Dagestanis make it hard to believe we are in deepest Russia but the drama has a mythic quality, as if we are hearing stories told for generations, characters trapped in history yet also very much of the present.
The Spectator (UK)
Yes, Ganieva is touted as the first Dagestani author to appear in English — this is truly a cause for celebration! But let that not overshadow her merits as a writer: that she is unafraid of depicting alienated, imperfect people whose purpose is to expose those universal paradoxes we hold dear. Bride and Groom is funny and perceptive and concept-dense, which proves to be a winning combination. I want more.
Asymptote (USA)
Undeniably well-written, her clear commitment is
to creating dialogue between Russia and its own peripheries.
The Calvert Journal (UK)
Raised in a nonreligious household in Dagestan, a
mountainous republic in Russia’s North Caucasus region, Alisa Ganieva has aimed
to write in clear-eyed fashion about her homeland, a region that has been
racked by violence fueled by criminal and clan elements and an Islamic
insurgency. Her long story Salam, Dalgat! aims a merciless
lens on a Dagestani town roiling with drug gangs, Islamic fundamentalists,
water-supply breakdowns, burning garbage cans, abusive police officers and
women fawning over Gucci knockoffs.
Salam, Dalgat! is a
lively account of today's Dagestan, where the nomenclature corruption
multiplies to result in social problems, unemployment matches the rise of
Islamic fundamentalism, which interferes with the gadgets of modernity -
Mercedes-Benz cars, prostitutes and drug addicts.
Alisa Ganieva is not a tightrope-walker, but is
similarly gifted with a rare talent to suspend disbelief and traverse gaping
chasms. Brought up in the capital of Dagestan, Makhachkala, Ganieva mines
intimate knowledge of her homeland. She combines this with the sophistication
of a wordsmith who confesses to identifying firmly with Russian culture, while
acknowledging the rich traditions of her Avar Dagestani roots.
At first, the Republic of Dagestan, in spite being
a very real region at the southwestern tip of Russia, seems far away and
utterly unreal. Perhaps that is because, Ganieva's debut novel, published and
translated by Deep Vellum, is one of the first books set in this part of the
world published in English. Or perhaps that is because of Ganieva's writing,
which has a kind of magic.
Alisa Ganieva, 26, wrote about her native
Dagestan, a mountainous region rocked by Islamist insurgency. She told me that
religious extremism has become a form of rebellion among the youth, as
fashionable as a trendy nightclub.
The circumstance surrounding the terrorism and
counter-terrorism campaigns deeply impacts the characters in Alisa Ganieva’s
work. As The Mountain and the Wall accurately depicts, it is
not the number of fighters or the ideology that provides the Salafist
extremists their strength but the state’s failures to care for its people
Ganieva is very courageous to write about what is
happening in her native country, thinly veiled in the traditional Russian
literary use of fiction.
Alisa Ganieva’s The Mountain and the Wall (2015) is one of
those novels that reminds us why reading world literature can be so compelling.
One of the privileges of working in a bookshop is
the discovery of new writers and new literary landscapes—and being able to pass
on these discoveries to you lovely folks. This novel from Dagestan certainly
does the trick. Ganieva’s polyphonic book has been making waves on the
continent and looks set to provoke equal amounts of debate and excitement here.
This is a portrait of a society fragmenting into violent ethnic and ideological
divisions, where the voices of moderation are at risk of being drowned out by
extreme interpretations of religious doctrine. It is a plea for plurality and
humanism and a celebration of the cultural diversity of Dagestan. Vivid,
timely, gripping, and really quite magical, it cements Ganieva’s position as
one of the most exciting young voices in Russian fiction.
Salam, Dalgat! (Hello
Dalgat) a short story translated in this first collection of young literary
prizewinners, is a powerful glimpse of a generation of young Dagestanis who
live on a tightrope in a region torn by violence. Survival is based on a set of
skills, mostly skills of evasion to avoid the worst fate. The worst fate seems
unknowable, but could involve criminals, the police, prostitution or the Imam
and his devotees proclaiming violent jihad.
People interrupt, talk over each other, insult one
another. Through Ganieva their voices are passionate, clear. Some families
survive the arguments, others fracture; some people change beliefs, others are
resolute.
The Mountain and the Wall is broad and sweeping in its historical consciousness, its
mythologizing, and its narrativizing–its ability to make some of the most
mundane acts the basis of an engrossing story. Ganieva achieves this in a story
that takes place over the course of a couple of days in Dagestan, a
country of about three million people on the Caspian Sea.
My Crash Course (USA).
Overall, though, The Mountain and the Wall is a book I’d
recommend, as much for the exotic (?) setting as for the story. A
well-written insight into a foreign land, Ganieva’s novel shows the western
reader a completely different side of Russia, one few of us would have
encountered before. It’s just another example of why we need translation
– and more women in translation, of course…
Im Dagestan der dort aufgewachsenen Autorin Alissa
Ganijewa, selbst erst Anfang 30, spielen noch die Religion, lokale Banden und
die Unterdrückungsgeschichte mit Russland hinein - die Namen mögen fremd sein,
doch die Grundkonflikte sind vertraut und die Pointen dieses turbulenten Romans
treffen.
Schon damals stach die junge Alissa Ganijewa als
erfrischende und gewitzte Stimme aus dem Verbund aufgekratzter Jungautoren
heraus. Nun, nach der Lektüre von Eine Liebe im Kaukasus, ihrem
zweiten ins Deutsche übertragenen Roman, muss man festhalten: An dieser Autorin
führt kein Weg vorbei.
Noch vor wenigen Jahren galt Tschetschenien
als Laboratorium für Terroristen – heute hat das
benachbarte Dagestan diese Rolle übernommen. Die gnadenlosen Einsätze
der russischen Anti-Terror-Einheiten treiben immer mehr junge Männer in die
Arme der militanten Islamisten, und die im zweiten Tschetschenien-Krieg völlig
zerstörte Stadt Grosny zeigt, wo dieser Weg endet. Alissa Ganijewa schildert in
ihrem Roman „Die russische Mauer“, zwischen hartem Realismus und einer
bedrückenden Traumsphäre wechselnd, die entscheidenden Wendepunkte einer
furchterregend aktuellen Apokalypse.
Ganijewa, welche Rolle die zunehmend militanten
Islamisten spielen, was passiert, wenn sich Islam und Altkommunismus
argumentativ verbünden und wie dabei besonders der Spielraum für junge Frauen
immer enger wird.
Die junge Autorin Alissa Ganijewa lebt in Moskau
und schreibt über ihre Heimat, Dagestan. In ihren Romanen schildert sie einen
spannungsgeladenen Nordkaukasus mit frommen Lügnern und verunsicherten
Säkularen.
Ganijewa nutzt die Szene, um den Irrwitz von
Aberglauben und Hokuspokus ad absurdum zu führen.
Alissa Ganijewa gelingt es, ein Panorama einer
verwirrten, überhitzten und latent gewalttätigen Gesellschaft zu entwerfen, in
der die Jungfräulichkeit nach wie vor den zentralen Wert einer
Heiratskandidatin bildet (und ihrer gesamten Sippe!), diese Kandidatinnen aber
ganz modern ihr Profil ins Internet stellen, damit sich interessierte Männer
vor dem ersten Rendezvous schon ein Bild machen können. Ganijewa selbst, heute
eine der profiliertesten kritischen Intellektuellen Russlands, hatte übrigens
ihre erste Erzählung aus dem Alltag Dagestans unter einem männlichen Pseudonym
veröffentlicht, weil es undenkbar war, dass eine junge Frau sich, wie sie es
tat, mit Strassenszenen beschäftigte.
Alissa Ganijewas Prosa ist von dieser Polyphonie
geprägt. Sie lässt die Menschen ihres Heimatlands in einem vielstimmigen Chor
selbst zu Wort kommen. Einem symbolisch aufgeladenen Literaturraum namens
Kaukasus setzt sie einen differenzierten Innenblick aus der Gegenwart speziell
eines Landes entgegen: der Gegenwart Dagestans.
Es ist ein beunruhigendes Bild, das Alissa
Ganijewa da in temporeichen Szenen und hitzigen Dialogen hineinzeichnet in das
baumlose Flachland am Rande des Kaspischen Meers. Zwischen die rostigen
Pipeline-Rohre, die ärmlichen Baracken und die Eisenbahngleise, die die
namenlose Siedlung nicht nur räumlich teilen: Der soziale Zusammenhalt ist
zerstört. Stattdessen herrscht ein feindliches Klima, genährt vor allem von den
vernagelten Eiferern in den konkurrierenden Moscheen, aber auch von tief
sitzenden Konventionen und blühender Doppelmoral, von Aberglaube und Gerüchten.
Alissa Ganijewa schildert die Siedlung und ihre Bewohner als ideologisch
engstirnige Gesellschaft, die keinen Platz kennt für Nonkonformisten.
Ganijewas schwarzhumoriger Roman leicht und gibt,
erweitert durch ein Nachwort der Übersetzerin, Einblicke in das Leben der nur
wenig bekannten Republik Dagestan.
Ganieva utilizza l’andamento narrativo come un
macchinario che mette ordine, che mostra le analogie dove non si vedevano e che
progressivamente collega strati sociali, personaggi, vicende apparentemente
disomogenee. È un libro di montaggio, combinatorio. All’inizio viene gettata
una rete che si allarga a più personaggi, addirittura a più generazioni. Poi
questa rete viene tirata: inizia a raccogliere. I personaggi si scontrano. Le
generazioni si incrociano. Il presente si chiarisce e diventa più facile fare
una previsione sul futuro. Quella tensostruttura di realismo e fantasia
distopica è l’esito coerente dell’andamento narrativo della Montagna in festa.
Alisa Ganieva ha immaginato, prima di Houellebecq
e di Sansal, l'irrompere dell'estremismo coranico in realtà occidentalizzate.
Ambientato in Daghestan, il suo è un romanzo-romanzo, con un vero intreccio e
una folla di personaggi.
Aile baskısı mı, koca baskısı mı? Şer cephesi
devlet yapıları mı, kılıcından kan damlayan mücahitler mi? Bütün
rejimlerin ilk önce ve her zaman kadınlarla uğraştığının vesikasıdır bu
roman. Ganieva anlattıkça daha çok dinlemek istiyorsunuz.
İki yol var: Kaçıp gitmek ya da kalıp şeriata
koşulsuz teslim olmak... Asyaüçüncüsünü seçiyor, kalıp başkaldırmak!
Rusya’daki pek çok edebiyat ödülünü toplayan Alisa
Ganiyeva, ‘Bayram Dağı’ romanında ‘harikalar diyarı’ Dağıstan’ın
bugününü anlatıyor.
Dans son récit, Alissa Ganieva soulève le thème
particulièrement sensible du banditisme parmi les wahhabites daghestanais,
suscitant une grande résonance, mais aussi de la colère et du mécontentement.
Au Daghestan, d'où est originaire Alissa Ganieva, c'est une honte d'écrire de
telles choses lorsqu'on est pieuse musulmane. Mais c'est justement l'absence du
sentiment de peur qui a fait de cette téméraire jeune femme un grand
écrivain. Alissa, elle, répond sur le site russe Openspace que « les
réactions déchaînées, surtout négatives, à mes débuts, les nombreuses lettres
reçues des Daghestanais et des autres, les critiques, verbales ou écrites, de
nature et niveaux différents, tout cela m'a tellement appris : sans le
prix « Début », je n'aurais sans doute jamais osé me révéler comme
écrivaine ».
“Cosas así” son los avatares de una sociedad que
Ganíeva dice haber retratado fielmente: mezcla de nostalgia comunista,
corrupción postsoviética y radicalismo islámico.
Ganíeva muestra cómo el terror no surge como un
fenómeno aislado, sino que se integra en la sociedad y es el fruto de los
conflictos entre etnias y clases que se arrastran desde hace décadas porque el
gobierno no los ha sabido gestionar.
Ganíeva no ha prescindido en su narración de la
magia y la sabiduría populares, ni de los colores, los olores o la riqueza
lingüística, necesarios para entender el retrato de la sociedad en la que ha
crecido, y que se muestra ante nosotros vital y colorista, familiar y
dicharachera, a pesar del velo oscuro que la cubre a los ojos de los demás.
Poderes fácticos aparte, son ellos los primeros en
querer alejarse del ring ideológico. Según Gula, seudónimo masculino de la
escritora de origen caucásico Alisa Ganíeva, su prosa «rechaza cualquier
autoridad porque termina generando una soledad poco deseada. La autoridad no
lee y, por tanto, no va a escucharnos a través de la literatura», se justifica
quien considera que en Rusia el movimiento 15-M «solo sería posible en los
libros, nunca en la vida real».
Al principio resulta gratificante leer la
descripción que hace Alisa Ganíeva de una sociedad plural, viva, en la que
conviven diversas sensibilidades y con un irresistible encanto oriental, aunque
desde el primer momento se intuye que hay algo a punto de romperse. Pero es
reconfortante comprobar que no todo son lo que lo personajes llaman “barbudos”,
islamistas radicales. Pero es una sociedad en ebullición constante, un pueblo
que todo lo discute y todo vehementemente. Sin embargo resulta desesperanzador
contemplar la evolución hacia el desgobierno primero y hacia el extremismo
después de unos personajes a los que uno ha conocido previamente. No es lo
mismo comprobar algo que uno sabe por verlo en un periódico que leyéndolo a
través de unos personajes a los que el talento de Alisa Ganíeva ha convertido
en algo nuestro.
Amb una extensió poc més gran que l’Aragó, el
Daguestan compta amb trenta-dues llengües oficials. Una de les més emprades és
l’àvar, la llengua familiar de l’autora. Tal com explica Ganíeva, en un primer
moment va plantejar-se escriure per difondre una quotidianitat que li feia
l’efecte que era ben desconeguda no ja només a Occident, sinó fins i tot a
Rússia. Aquesta realitat és plena d’elements interessants: conflictes
nacionals, interpretacions polaritzades de l’islam, xoc de civilitzacions,
cosmovisions i tradicions antagòniques, etc. Amb les seves obres, Ganíeva vol
ajudar-nos a entendre aquesta quotidianitat.
