Books like My World Line

I found it very interesting how this book provides the background of the development of Soviet nuclear science and the creation of the atomic and hydrogen bombs in the Soviet Union.

It is written by a historian; the narrative is accurate yet accessible. It helped me understand how a country having suffered terrible losses in a devastating war and obsolete infrastructure could become one of the two mightiest superpowers due to its ruthless concentration of resources to a chosen goal and a group of scientists among the world’s best. 

For me, the most interesting aspect of this autobiography is its honesty. I already knew a lot about Sakharov when I read this book. I learned about Sakharov’s development that he was initially a devoted team member providing the most lethal weapons to a dictatorship, and how he evolved and eventually became a most fearless and forceful human rights advocate in a ruthless dictatorship—in the post-Stalin Soviet era.

I learned how he had opposed the Soviet leader Khrushchev and how he then became enemy No. 1 of the regime under Brezhnev. I found it also instructive how Gorbachev continued playing the role of his predecessors and how he found a formidable opponent in Sakharov. All this I find sadly relevant when I look at today’s Russia and its dictator.

From this book, I learned about a most tragic figure in twentieth-century science and a ruthless political system willing to annihilate its best resources to isolate itself from even the slightest Western democratic influence.

I find it improbable how scientists in the early development of the Stalin regime believed in the power of truth and were willing to sacrifice themselves for the greater good. I find it sadly relevant how many scientists were willing to close their eyes on injustice or become accomplices.

I find Petr Kapitza a hero, and this book provides both his personal and societal background and his science and actions. I am fascinated by a scientist who, amid conditions of the Soviet system, remained indifferent to titles and positions but was not afraid to use his international recognition to protest the actions of one of the world’s worst dictators.

I also found the book's message about Kapitza to be most convincing in the contribution of one of the editors, David Shoenberg, who had a close relationship with Kapitza and was a significant scientist and discoverer.

The rise of spaceflight in the Soviet Union came amidst a very different social and cultural context than it did in the United States. While the Soviet program operated mostly in secret, with accomplishments often reported only after their successful completion, their public reception had little to do with their importance to state officials.

This book reveals an older Russian cosmism (or cosmic mysticism) practiced by some of the founders of pre-Soviet Russian rocketry, such as Konstantin Tsiolkovsky, whose work tapped into an early wave of interest in space travel beginning around World War I. Public support and enthusiasm for spaceflight were genuine, rooted not in state-sanctioned interpretations of spaceflight but in a broadly shared utopian imagination and belief that the Russian future was in the stars.  

Serge was a supporter of the Bolshevik revolution, though he never lost sight of its flaws. 

This extraordinary novel centres on Petrograd at the height of the civil war, as economic collapse, hunger, the threat from the Whites, and the depredations of the Red Terror crush the city’s spirit and ultimately destroy the revolution, even if the Bolshevik regime it spawned survives.

What a title, Ace of Spies. I wish I had thought of that one, and Sydney Reilly was that. A historical figure who led a charmed life and remains something of a mystery to this day, where did he come from? And how did he die? He comes from one of my favorite periods of history: the First World War, the Russian Revolution, and the Civil War. There is a romantic quality about him, yet he can be utterly ruthless. I find him the perfect spy.

The background is so authentic. Lockhart served in Naval Intelligence during World War II and is the son of R.H. Bruce Lockhart, who knew Reilly and was in Russia at the same time. So, he had a wealth of experience to draw on. Incidentally, I loved the TV series as well, which starred Sam Neill as Sydney Reilly. 

Written by one of the key scholars of Jewish history in the USSR, who died untimely in 2020, this book challenges our bias about the USSR and its Cold-War era culture. Shneer tells how the Soviet photographers, many of whom where Jews, documented the Nazi atrocities during World war II and how the Soviet officialdom used their visual narratives to create new cult of the Great Patriotic war and the image of the USSR as a humanistic society.

Cherkaev also offers us a series of amazing stories informed by theory but written in a highly readable fashion. Many of her cases are about things that weren’t supposed to exist – about the stuff gleaned from the Soviet economy that allowed people to go on expeditions into nature, bury their loved ones, and make do in an economy infamous for its shortages.

You meet a lot of fascinating people, and she throws in some very provocative, well-argued, and cogently written discussion of the Soviet leadership’s changing understanding of how to build communism and the place of stuff in the project and its aftermath.

My consistent criticism of this book is that it ends too quickly – I wanted at least fifty more pages of Cherkaev’s witty prose and fascinating tales. 

This book showed me in a way I’d never seen before what life was like for an imprisoned bureaucrat in Stalin-era Russia. The author proved to me that through undeniable detail and unflinching sincerity, you can show an unsettling reality that powerful authorities have worked tirelessly to conceal.

Found within the book’s pages are poignant anecdotes, lessons, and reflective moments that made me question the very concepts of what a person is capable of doing and enduring under extreme circumstances. I could not get the chapter “The Buddha’s Smile” out of my head, and I don’t think I ever will.