Cancer Ward … hmmm… Oh, Cancer Ward…. What was I expecting from you? Certainly not a frolicky day in the park… no Maurice Chevalier dance routines. Nope. I can’t say I was duped. Cancer sucks. Hell, I’m not spouting some fresh angle on an old dictum. Just nod and agree, folks. Most of us have had some dealings with it, some more than others… it’s one of the nastiest things out there… rots you from the inside out, leaves you to dwell on things left unaccomplished and fills your head with messy words like ‘sarcoma’, ‘carcinoma’, ‘lymphoma’, ‘melanoma’, and you know, the biggie: ‘death.’ So, here it is the beginning of Spring, the most joyous of times, birds tweeting, flowers sprouting... and I’m reading about a ward full of cancer patients in Soviet Uzbekistan circa 1955.Joy. Actually, the thing is, it was. You think that these characters have lived through sieges and war and exiles and now this horrible disease and you still see them grasping at the hope that it's not what it is or what it could be. There's this great chapter called 'What Men Live By' where each of the characters ponder over the riddle 'what do men live by?' They start to call out responses 'productivity!', 'Professional skill!', 'their pay!', 'Food! Water!', 'Air!' and then you have the quiet ones; 'your homeland' and 'ideals' and finally 'love.' I guess that is the mother load of questions, right? What keeps us going? What keeps us moral? Are we just sheep? Yeah, I didn't sleep a lot while reading this. Oleg, who, I guess you could call, the protagonist, the character that Solzhenitsyn models after himself, won me over. We see him struggle with his doctors to have some control of his treatments and then dealing with the side effects (read: Impotence) of said treatment. He comes to the Cancer Ward from his 'perpetual exile' in Kazakhstan and we see how his ideals clash with his fellow bunkmates. His struggle with what life has dealt him with:"If my life is totally lost, if I can feel in my bones the memory that I'm a prisoner in perpetuity, a perpetual 'con', if Fate hold out no better prospect, if the only expectation I have is being consciously and artificially killed--- then why bother to save such a life?”Can you even imagine? Hell, I can't even get past my anger at the pedestrian that hits the walk sign and then proceeds to cross without waiting. I need to reassess. Big.Time.There's another great scene where he is visiting the zoo. He's promised another patient that he will go there and report back, he's just been released from the ward, given a free day to roam the city before returning to Ush-Terek and the first encounters a spiral horned goat. It had stood there a long time just like a statue, like a continuation of the rock itself. And when there was no breeze to make its straggly hair flutter it was impossible to prove it was alive, that it wasn't just a trick. Oleg stood there for five minutes and departed in admiration. The goat had not even stirred. That was the sort of character a man needed to get through life.”The peak. Then, he continues on to see a crowd gathering around another cage. Inside is a squirrel in a wheel. ...And there, quite oblivious of its tree and the slender branches up above, stood the squirrel in its wheel—even though no one had forced it there or entice it with food---attracted only by the illusion of sham activity and movement. It had probably begun by running lightly up the steps out of curiosity, not knowing then what a cruel, obsessional thing it was. (It hadn't known the first time, but now at the thousandth time, it knew well enough, yet it made no difference.)”The valley.That's it, I'm playing hookie tomorrow. Screw the machine. I guess you can ask, how can you be inspired and uplifted by this, Kim? (Don't lie, it's there, I can see you forming the words...)Hell if I know. I was just overwhelmed by the sense of hope that these people still carried, no matter their lot in life. Sieges, exiles, bread lines, grappling with the idea of ethical socialism yet living in a competitive, do better society. Fighting the idols of the marketplace while trying to stay true to themselves. That says a lot. So, does this: The meaning of existence was to preserve unspoiled, undisturbed and undistorted the image of eternity with which each person is born. Like a silver moon in a calm, still pond. You can't know everything in the world, whatever happens you'll die a fool.'What else is there to say?
So, this is not quite a joyous, fluffy marshmallow, look at the cute puppies, feel good frolic through a meadow. Which, in fairness, the title does go a long way to dispelling any thoughts you might be harbouring on that front! What it is, is a hard hitting allegory about the Soviet Union and re chaos it was in trying to recuperate after Stalins reign of terror and how difficult it was for some to leave this behind, and for others who we're rebelling against the poison. Read literally- it's a look at the lives of cancer wars patients, who are also delaying with a reign of terror in their bodies. Education doesn't make you smarter. And so is the second chapter of the 'cancer ward' entitled. Never a truer 5 words spoken/written. These words uttered in this chapter, by Kostoglotov, while we're still at the scene setting part of the novel,resonates throughout. The seemingly educated man of the ward seems to be the one least versed in the way of the new, Stalin free, world. The one who is struggling to understand what's going on, why he's not being afforded certain privileges he previously had, why there is a lack of respect for him. In short, the new world. That quote, twanging its way through the novel, also makes itself known in the real life world, the world we live every single day. Who can say they don't know someone who is super smart, super intelligent, but who couldn't cross a road safely If they tried. This rings true for the allegorical side of the novel, all these seemingly smart people who are highly educated but who let themselves be involved with Stalin, his regime, the purging that went on etc etc. this small review space doesn't even begin to cover what went on in this mans lifetime! One of The characters, Ludmila Afanasyevna is an interesting one. I admire her persistence and her single minded was with regards the care of her patients and how, above all else, operations/medicine/radiation therapy supersedes everything else. Now, I admire it, I don't however agree with it. One of her beliefs ' Ludmila Afanasyevna was unshakably convinced that any damage to the body was justified if it saved life' resonated with me throughout the book. I know this book is of an allegorical nature, so if you're to read this as the literal sense, the human body, is what she's saying, that to put the body through serious trauma and seriously erode someone's quality of life, worth it for them to have that life? I know this is a sensitive enough topic, but personally myself I don't agree with that. To prolong someone's life, but to take away their ability to live that life doesn't seem worth it to me. Then, if you're look it at the allegorical level, its truly a commentary on the current state of the Soviet Union (this takes place 2years after Stalins death).Ludmila and Stalin-staunch in their views, to a point of detriment? Stalin during his reign as the leader of the Soviet Union implemented some serious changes, insofar as the structure changed dramatically to a more industrial fuelled economy, the widespread nature of the labour camps and of course the famine which was a direct result of the change of the economy, his Great Purge regime, the Cold War etc etc. Solzhenitsyn, through his character, with such a bold controversial statement must surely be making some allusion towards the regime and how damaged the country was afterwards. Yes it survived, and yes it emerged as a super power-but at what cost.In Chapter 16, Rusanov received a greater dose than normal of a radiation type injection(the a actual contents of which escape me now) and he ends up having a horrific dream, and when woken up from it, has difficulty distinguishing the dream from reality (a little like a Fr. Ted sketch we all know and love...well, anyone from Ireland or the UK anyways!). Another extended metaphor on the poison that Stalin pumped into the Soviet Union and that after his death, it took the citizens a little while to distinguish between right and wrong? You have to hand it to Solzhenitsyn he weaves quite the not so hidden tale:-) he's using the tumours and the poison used to treat them so effectively to make all these extremely bold statements about the disarray the Soviet Union was in, particularly bearing in mind that Stalin was only dead 14years when this work was published and they were still very much feeling the after effects of his tyrannical reign.
What do You think about Cancer Ward (2003)?
From Wikipedia - "The novel is set in a hospital in Soviet Uzbekistan in the 1950s. As the title hints, the plot focuses on a group of cancer patients as they undergo therapy. The novel deals with Political theories, mortality and hope, themes that are often explored either through descriptive passages or the conversations the characters have within the ward, which is a microcosm of the post Stalin Russian Communist regime."I found Cancer Ward, although depressing to be a totally engrossing read. All the characters were interesting, believable and had something to say about what motivated them to carry out their actions. If you're interested in what happened to Russia during the era it's set and the effect the politics of the time had on people in most aspects of their lives read this book.
—H
Scene: Tashkent, Uzbekistan, Central Asia, in the old Soviet Union, two years after the death of the brutal dictator, Stalin (1955). Oleg Kostoglotov is lying on the floor of a provincial hospital, at the entrance to the cancer ward, which is unpromising named , the 13th wing, looking up at the cold ceiling, his dead eyes stare. He can't get admitted until a space is available, but a vacancy will arrive soon, he feels death near. Meanwhile stoic Kostoglotov, a survivor of the infamous Gulag, and a permanent exile, can wait, the very sick Russian has little hope for recovery. Finally, Oleg gets in, nine beds in two rows , separated by an aisle in the middle of the room , all the men are dispirited and quiet, except a youth , who is moaning by the corner, unheeded, slowly dying. Pavel Nikolayevich Rusanov, has no problem getting a coveted bed , he is an important bureaucrat, but cancer has no favorites, he will discover, shortly. The pitiless Yefrem, the dark joker of the ward, and a much hated man, greets Pavel with these words, " Well, what have we here? Another nice little cancer! " Rusanov, the great man, is not amused, he has connections, a famous Moscow clinic , Rusanov expects soon to be going to, looks down on these people, dirty peasants. Pavel shouldn't be with such riffraff, he has sent many of them , lowlifes, to the labor camps, most never to return, but rumors that the survivors are "returning", makes him feel uneasy, things are changing, not for the better, Rusanov thinks. To the inmates of the cancer ward, reading, is enjoyable, their only entertainment, to pass the dreary time, boredom makes them lethargic. Passing read books to each other, in the ward, some of these, like flies, are seen and quickly float away, others stick to you like molasses on hair. Still Oleg Kostoglotov, even has time to romance two women, Vera, a pretty, friendly doctor in the hospital, and Zoya, even more beautiful and younger nurse, studying to become a physician also. Most of the doctors in the clinic, are women here, a low -paying profession then, the head physician is, of course a man, but does Oleg have the right, because of his serious illness, to dream about his future, with a family of his own, to love? One by one , all Oleg's friends, leave the room and go home, to die? This mystery is never explained, strangers now occupy the beds, as a character in the novel says, you can't know everything in the world, whatever happens you'll die a fool... An especially well written autobiographical novel, Solzhenitsyn is showing, through Oleg Kostoglotov, based on his own life, how dehumanizing the old Soviet system was, nobody but the high party members were treated well, everyone supposedly equal, but in reality, some "more equal than others"... And the bleakness of life, the lack of freedom and hope, the ennui, that stifles the spirit of mankind.
—Henry Avila
There are some novels that hit me hard. Such a one was _Cancer Ward._ In 1996, I was diagnosed with cancer, one that was moving quickly, and my life permanently changed. Indeed, it didn't take me long to divide my life into 'Before Cancer' and 'After Cancer.' This novel, set in the Russia of the 1950's, where the ghost of Stalin still lurks, the narrator is a government official of middling status, thrust into a public ward where other cancer survivors live, some to maybe walk out, but others that are dying in slow, awful steps. From them, the narrator learns quickly that life beyond his comfortable boundaries is very different than what he had expected, and the sheer soullessness of what he is enduring is another form of punishment -- if he lets it. It's quite a read, and while cancer treatment has certainly improved, the general atmosphere of this novel is one that I understood quite well. It's good, and I give it five stars overall. For the longer review, please go here:http://personapaper.com/article/29675...
—Rebecca Huston
