I'm reading Sophy Roberts'
The Lost Pianos of Siberia and staying up past my bedtime despite having plenty to do every morning as autumn approaches.
This amazing and to me "unputdownable" piece of nonfiction actually sprang from a single evening's conversation with some of the British author's friends in Mongolia, as her host fretted about the state of a modern piano upon which the talented Mongolian pianist Odgerel Sampilnorov (whose ancestors were from near Lake Baikal in Siberia) was wont to play at various social occasions.
Talk turned to the export of western culture --and especially music-- into Russia in the time of Catherine the Great, and then into the eventual uses that first Russia and then the Soviet Union had made of the great expanse of Siberia, and then to the obstinate insistence of immigrants and exiles alike upon taking with them to Siberia their pianos, and to Lenin even having decided that music like all else must be of all the people, and so to the opening of piano factories all over his domain including in Siberia... and then to the devastation during the revolution, to the export of arts and fine goods to the east, and so to the occasional odd instance of very fine pianos surviving to this day in little villages of Siberia.
And then the talk turned back to the prospect of finding a better piano for Sophy's friend Odgerel to perform on. Well as it happens, Sophy Roberts is a travel writer (and weekend columnist for the FT), and so after a season's thought about the whole matter of pianos and Siberia.... research for the hunt itself was on, and so were the underpinnings of this book.
Honestly the work is a wonderful example of an obsession pursued at once with scholarly diligence and pure unadulterated fascination not in the least unlike that of the hound on scent of a rabbit. The notes are half the worth of the book for their further references to novels, biographies, histories... and conversations with Siberian people in a vast landscape --one that takes up 9% of the planet's surface, encompasses all manner of flora, fauna and people, and yet for most of us is reduced to sad or frightful stereotypes, no matter how true the basis of those are as well.
I cannot recommend this book highly enough as something worth reading and re-reading. The notes alone will take me on my own hunt for more books about Siberia if I let that happen.