An arresting memoir equal parts refugee-coming-of-age story, feminist manifesto, and meditation on motherhood, displacement, gender politics, and art that follows award-winning writer Sophia Shalmiyevs flight from the Soviet Union, where she was forced to abandon her estranged mother, and her subsequent quest to find her.Born to a Russian mother and an Azerbaijani father, Shalmiyev was raised in the stark oppressiveness of 1980s Leningrad (now St. Petersburg). An imbalance of power and the prevalence of antisemitism in her homeland led her father to steal Shalmiyev away, emigrating to America, abandoning her estranged mother, Elena. At age eleven, Shalmiyev found herself on a plane headed west, motherless and terrified of the new world unfolding before her.Now a mother herself, in Mother Winter Shalmiyev depicts in urgent vignettes her emotional journeys as an immigrant, an artist, and a woman raised without her mother. She tells of her early days in St. Petersburg, a land unkind to wo...
|Title||:||Mother Winter: A Memoir|
|Number of Pages||:||288 pages|
|Status||:||Available For Download|
|Last checked||:||21 Minutes ago!|
Mother Winter: A Memoir Reviews
So excited to have landed a galley of Mother Winter! This book reads like a dream where you're constantly reaching for something or someone, with a cold, lyrical beauty I want to fall backward into like it's a moonlit snowdrift. I'm lost and found each time I open it.
mother winter is something adjacent to but not entirely like a memoir; it feels more like a sort of curation of tapes, recorded pieces of thought cut out of the fabric of a life and grafted together, played into a slight graininess and, at times, an almost incomprehensibility, homophonous sounds tripping the tongue and the mind. reading it is a dizzying, an unsettling experience - shalmiyev is writing about the vast unanswerability of being an exile, a refugee, a motherless daughter, a woman, a ...more
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'Hall of Fame. Hall of Shame. That’s Motherhood…'
This is a memoir of longing and love for one’s absent mother, as if when Sophia Shalmiyer left her native Russia in the 1980’s for America a decade later, in her Azerbaijani father’s care whom she called a ‘benevolent dictator’, she too was forced to divorce her mother. “It was too risky to ask for her and be denied so I didn’t say her name much.” Yet for so long, she had ‘no body’ without her moth ...more
I spent the day yesterday reading Mother Winter- I was captivated. The structure and pace that Shalmiyev conjures brought me into that traumatized, dissonant space that is the drumbeat of this book. Mother Winter has a singular rhythm, woven together in a dynamic, profoundly sad - and hopeful - fabric. I read sentences again and again - they will stay with me for years to come. A stunning, deeply thoughtful and inspiring debut.
I dashed to get this memoir after reading an amazing article about it by Chelsea Bieker in Electric Literature. Typical to me, I gulped it down in a few days (is there a surefire way to make yourself read slower? I read too fast). This is an amazing memoir. It's a seamless tapestry of vignettes about the missing mother—the missing, aching core—of Shalmiyev's life. Mother love is both romanticized and reputed in our culture: romanticized in both demands for perfection, and reputed in how we actua ...more
This is Sophia’s debut book; a memoir of her life and I feel memoirs cannot be given ratings like a fictional book, because this is her story, she lived it and she is gifting it to us and I am grateful she did. Release Date February 2019
Sophia elegantly and lyrically takes us on the journey of her life, what it was like for her to live without her mother. A mother she was taken from; because her mother was an alcoholic. A father she was forced to live with, a father who was abusive and took her ...more
What if the name of the town and country you were born in changed after you left? What if you lived in three different countries within a year right before you hit puberty? What if your native tongue had to twist to shout new sounds, trying to touch the top of your teeth to say the word teeth in front of a classroom of predictably cruel seventh-grade girls? What if the only word, the only name, the only place that remained constant was Ma? Mama, mama, mama, said so many times that it broke off a ...more