Do not be put off by the subject matter. Yes, THE ORPHANAGE takes place during the 2014 Russian occupation of eastern Ukraine and echoes the present invasion. More importantly, the novel illuminates the struggle of innocents trapped by geopolitical conflict, which is, in the end, what makes war all the more horrific.
It only gets this quiet when everyone pipes down and starts listening.
Like many such observations, the plot is simple; its meaning, complex: When the march of separatist soldiers comes closer to his town, Pasha, a 35 year-old language teacher, who lives a purposefully cocooned life, is dispatched to the orphanage where his nephew Sasha lives, now in occupied territory. His mission is to bring Sasha safely home. Wading through combat zones, crisscrossing threatening and rapidly shifting borders, and forging unexpected alliances on his journey, Pasha, who has been steadfastly and proudly apolitical, comes to terms with his loyalties and the recognition he resides in a ever-changing world.
He said that they had nothing to be scared of, that they didn't have anything to do with this, that they weren't taking sides. Pasha was "just a teacher, just a teacher," he kept repeating, seemingly apologizing for being just a teacher. He didn't really care about anything else. Where would he go? What use would he be anywhere else? They don't have anything to be afraid of. Everything's fine. He's just a teacher.
Zhadan uses Pasha’s innocence, and reticence, to exemplify the absurdity of war, as well as the perpetuity of human collateral damage. Nevertheless, to his surprise [and ours] Pasha rises to the challenge, and at one point takes a stand for other innocents. We begin to see how the war will change a man who resists change, although the novel spans only the three days of his journey. How will he go on in the aftermath?
"Can someone forget all this?" Pasha asks himself. "Of course they can," he answers his own question. "Of course. I'll forget all this," Pasha tells himself. "And the kid will, too."
The third-person narrative [so beautifully translated we might imagine we’re reading Ukrainian] is reminiscent of McCarthy’s The Road and also Hemingway’s war stories, and then suddenly shifts near the end to Sasha’s first-person account, which seems to underscore the importance of a diversity of perspective. However, it is Dante’s Inferno Zhadan, an award-winning poet as well as novelist, seems to deploy as his metaphor. In that epic poem, Dante’s pilgrim descends to hell, through multiple rings of the universe, after losing his way in a dark forest.* Zhadan’s Pasha might avoid that fate by refusing to take sides, when, in truth, he cannot, which is evident in an encounter with a similarly neutral Russian officer.
“Paradise,” he says, smiling. “More like the first circle of hell. Well, are ya coming?” He nods at Pasha…
While the war rages around them, Pasha and Sasha’s journey is internal. The reader is protected from descriptions of blood and gore, but we feel the conflict, and the apocalyptic allusions, in the emotional impact on its victims. An orphanage is meant to protect innocents, but isolates as well, which makes the title so imaginative, I think. So, I repeat, don’t skip this terrific book because you think media war reports are sufficient or that it will be too disturbing. THE ORPHANAGE is an important and beautifully told work of fiction, with essential realism embedded in the prose. We need to know in order to understand, which is what great storytelling can do.
*With apologies to my literature professors and thanks to Wikipedia for a memory boost.