A Charming Portrayal of Russia's Multifaceted History: A Story of Identity and Belonging

"Welcome, my children," the Empress Catherine II said to the first German settlers. "New Russian sons and daughters, we warmly welcome you under our protective wing and promise you protection and parental care!" Two and a half centuries ago, Catherine the Great extended an invitation to her former countrymen, promising them a life filled with great opportunities. Around 30,000 people took her up on the offer and made their way to a country whose language they didn't know and whose customs were unfamiliar to them. They settled in Russia but lived separately, speaking their native German and having minimal contact with locals.

I think one of the descendants of these settlers was Yakob Ivanovich Bakh, a schoolteacher or a tailor who taught German to kids in a small town called Gnadental. The book tells the story of his life, his character, and the customs, values, and history of our country in a way that's both captivating and thought-provoking.

The book is structured into several chapters, each marking a significant event in the protagonist's life: His Wife, His Student, His Daughter, His Son, and His Children. These chapters offer a glimpse into the complexities of Yakob's life and the challenges he faced as a member of a minority community.

I had trouble getting through some parts of the book, as the writing style can be quite dry at times. However, once I hit the middle, I was hooked. The story of people leaving society to live in solitude is always fascinating, and I think Yakob Bakh was one of those people, with a big heart and a lot of talent. But talented people are often complex and hard to understand, and this book does an excellent job of capturing that complexity.

I love Guzel Yakhina's writing. After reading "The Zookeeper's Wife," I started reading her books with great enthusiasm. Her ability to weave together historical fact and personal narrative is truly impressive. I highly recommend her, especially to women who are interested in historical fiction and stories about strong female characters.

I'd love to say to her in the words of her protagonist:

"Where did you get all this?" Gofman exclaimed, shaking the pages. "These marble hands and feet that crumble to dust underfoot... these portraits covered in frost... these piles of entrails... these beards that look like a mess of sour cabbage... All these details – where did you get them?! My stomach almost churned just reading them. You're not even a decent Shakespear, you're not even a decent Shiller! What's going on in that messy, speechless head of yours?!" Gofman leaned in close, his beautiful face inches from Bakh's. "You've really outdone yourself! It's not just a story, it's a fairy tale with a moral, a gardening guide, a cultural revolution, and a rural development plan all rolled into one! And you wrapped it up so beautifully – it's not just something to read, it's something to declaim, like a poem! To sing, like a hymn! To sweep away all the flies with one swat!" Gofman applauded Bakh's work, then laughed briefly. He became serious, pointed to the back of Bakh's coat, and tapped his finger insistently. "Write more, Bakh. Write more. Or they'll tear you apart, those devils..."

I've heard that "My Children" is being adapted into a movie. I'd love to see it. With such a rich story, it's a rare find in modern Russian cinema. The book offers a unique perspective on the history of Russia and the experiences of its people, and I think a film adaptation could be a great way to share that perspective with a wider audience.