Books like Flowers Through Concrete — picked by fans

How could a bunch of creative, courageous, but also somewhat crazy activists make the authoritarian regime of Poland under communist rule tremble? By bringing a moment of joy and laughter to an otherwise dull and grey world. That is what the Polish Orange Alternative Movement did during the late 1980s.

Lives of the Orange Men tells the story of the group. It’s a book that simply made me laugh a lot. Written as a series of captivating autobiographies—and not every word is to be taken seriously!—it is full of anecdotes of activists playfully mocking authorities. “What are those pills,” police once wondered after searching the backpack of an arrested activist. “Happy pills,” the man replied. One officer was eager to try them; happy pills just sounded too good. They turned out to be mints.

A lot has been written about the famous May ’68 in France, but to me, Kristin Ross’s book stands out because of what she argues was at the heart of the protests: they were an experiment “in declassification, in disrupting the natural ‘givenness of places,’” an attempt to question the very order of society.

Students left their spaces of study to engage with workers; workers—or at least some of them—refused to return to the hell their workplace was: they didn’t want to function as students or workers anymore. This vision of transgressing social or spatial boundaries, I believe, still speaks to the present. It promises a life not determined by social roles, a society not divided by neat sociological categories.

Workers ignoring the authority of foremen, organizing disruptive checker-board strikes—only those whose names started with a certain letter put down tools, but enough to bring work to a halt—forming alliances with rebellious students and battling the police in the streets: that’s the story of Italy around 1968, the place of some of the most radical and imaginative protests in the post-war era.

What workers demanded was as simple as it was radical: we want everything. Nanni Balestrini’s novel by the same title memorializes these struggles. It achieves what few sober historical accounts can: vividly capturing the dull monotony of labor suffocating young workers and the thrill of agitation on the shop floor and rebellion in the streets. 

What fascinates me about the history of protesting isn’t only that ordinary people campaigned for or against political change but also that they started experimenting with different ways of living. This is why Sasha Roseneil’s book made me dream and smile: a deeply human and intimate book based on oral history interviews, telling the story of the women’s protest camp at the Greenham Common Airforce base in England, where American Cruise Missiles equipped with nuclear warheads were stationed.

The women of Greenham Common, as Roseneil’s book wonderfully shows, did more than protest the dangers of nuclear war. In the cold and dirt of the camp, amidst the fear of nuclear annihilation, they built a community of laughter, dancing, hugging, and caring: a “queer space,” as Roseneil puts it, of trying out alternatives to the Cold War world of bureaucracy and rationality.

Alexei Yurchak was part of the last Soviet generation—the last citizens born in the USSR who also lived through its collapse as adults. As the title suggests, Everything Was Forever Until It Was No More is a profound and poetic work about truth and what we come to accept as real. Yurchak wants to explain the paradox that, while Soviet people knew by the 1970s that their government was telling them almost nothing but untruths, they were still shocked to their core by their country’s demise. What I loved most about the book was Yurchak’s descriptions of ordinary life among his generation (their intriguing taste for the operatic qualities of metal, the elaborate public pranks they staged, the way they treated life like performance art). With pathos and humor in equal measure, Everything Was Forever Until It Was No More paints a brilliant portrait of a world that millions of… show more.

This book explores the Soviet efforts to turn a living person into a propaganda icon that would embody and transmit communist values around the world. While Gagarin’s open and warm personality did resonate with wide audiences, he felt increasingly uneasy about his assigned public role, which forced him to lie, distort, and pretend. 

I find this well-documented story an excellent illustration of the Soviet use of cosmonauts in the propaganda machine: to function effectively as propaganda tools, the cosmonauts had to fulfill ritual public functions at the expense of training for new flights, and to swap their professional identity for the role of an ideologically engaged public speaker.

I learned, to my great surprise, that instead of being isolated from the world Russian ideas, thinkers, artists, revolutionaries, and political movements changed the world in many ways.

I found interesting stories about Russian anarchists in Japan, Russian ballet dancers in France, Bolsheviks in Mexico, and antisemitic thinkers in Europe in this book. And I was completely engrossed by the movements of Russians and Russian ideas across the globe.

The result is a book that you cannot put down because it challenges everything that you thought you knew about Russia and Russian history. After reading the book, I felt more informed and better educated.  

For decades, historians argued over the extent of Communist Party involvement in Soviet Espionage directed at the United States. The opening of the Soviet archives and the release of the VENONA project decodes of communication between the Soviet Consulate in New York and Moscow finally provided a solid answer.

Of the many books written about the subject, I like Sibley’s best. She takes her readers through the facts of the most famous cases and gives equal attention to the points of view of all the main actors. I particularly like her descriptions of early Soviet networks devoted primarily to industrial espionage. 

Soviet satire is often overlooked or dismissed as purely propaganda. John Etty offers a refreshingly updated look at a key Soviet publication and provides the casual reader with an introduction to the colorful and humorous content in the USSR’s premier satirical journal. He explores how content was created, revealing a collaborative process that could involve everyone from the head of the party to everyday readers. While there was oversight and interference from state censors and political authorities, and self-censorship in the 1930s due to repression, Etty reveals that editors and creators had a great deal of creative freedom.

Etty also explores the Krokodil “Extended Universe”. In the 1920s, when there was a severe shortage of paper and many citizens were illiterate, Live Krokodil, a repertory company was organized in theatres, workers’ and Red Army clubs. Additionally, Krokodil published the Krokodil Library (Biblioteka Krokodila) which included cartoon compendiums and… show more.

This book shows us that not everyone had a devastating experience under the Soviets. I love it because it’s about average people and (somewhat) average events that become extraordinary because of the political circumstances. 

What was it like for a teenager to date when the KGB might be watching? How did families manage to cheer at military parades of sophisticated equipment when they couldn’t find toilet paper to buy?

These wonderful stories entertained and informed. They weren’t funny, but a few made me chuckle from the absurdity.