Wunderkind [Hardcover]

Every once in a while, I come across a book that changes my thoughts about a time and place, darkens my mental outlook, eats at me from the inside and stays with me all day. Wunderkind does all the above by placing me into a very uncomfortable mental state deepening my understanding of what was even when I thought I knew. Now I know that I did not.

Konstanin, a gifted and brilliant musician is placed into a special school where the Communist leaders own you: your thoughts, actions, and future. It is a story of romance and pure hormonal actions where depicting between the two is impossible. But in the end, it is a story of how life is unfair, that people are placed into situations that have no solution. The writing is raw and grim. The grime and dirt and psychological pressures gnaw at the reader until you cannot put the book down.

Nicolai Grozni in his second novel displays talent that is remarkable; the metamorphosis of the musical phrasing into real unadulterated life takes your breath away. Taking his past life as a pianist in Bulgaria during the Russian occupation in the 1980's, Grozni masterfully uses his musical escape to symbolize and describe his life during that most difficult time. Grozni spares no emotion. I laughed out loud, wiped the sting from my eyes, felt pure hatred and anguish and I squirmed, but I never wanted it to end.

This is an ambitious work that superbly accomplishes a tour de force in as little as 288 pages. However, as his music demanded, he also demands that the reader follow his well paced metronome. The rhythms are unique and equally forceful upon the reader. Racing through the pages is not allowed and Grozni expertly keeps the reader in check.

While this book cannot be recommended for everyone, I give it my highest recommendation. This just might be the best book that I've read this year.

After finishing Nikolai Grozni's book Wunderkind, I realized that the best part of the book put me in touch with Chopin in a way I had never experienced. I downloaded the musical pieces I could find on the Web either for sale in iTunes or as MP3 files that were freely available. Listening to the music and reading different parts of the book where Chopin's meanings in the music were revealed was just plain fun. Every second of the book in these musical chapters was a joy.

The rest of the book was a bit up and down. For me, Bulgaria's experience in the world is one of mystery. I know that they were under the yoke of the Ottoman Empire for about 500 years, emerging along with the rest of the Balkan states in the 19th century as a unique but commonly confused state with the rest of the region. After WWII they were the only state that sided with the Nazis who emerged from the conflict with more territory than when they went in. Then, the poor sods came under the Soviet rule. However, unlike Tito's Yugoslavia that had a good deal of autonomy and were the only communist state in the region not in the Warsaw Pact, Bulgaria not only sided with the Soviets, they embraced a Stalinist style state to make sure that the imperialists' liberal ideas didn't take root in their emerging worker's paradise.

At the same time, the Bulgarians were very keen on developing world class musicians in the classical mold. Those youths recognized as "gifted" were sent to the Sofia Music School for the Gifted and Grozni's concept of "gifted" reminded a bit of Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead. Gronzni basically argues that the 'gifted' are special and posses a special magic that the rest of us just don't have. The book's hero, Konstantin, pits himself against the grey communist aparachicks who run the lives of not only the gifted musicians but of everyone else in the heavy-handed Stalinist soul-crushing society. They rail against the "cult of the personality" that celebrates the individual glory over the good of the masses. They want to condense any sense of self into a sense of the totalitarian oneness with the people under the banner of communism. The abandonment of self, then, is either to the soul liberating music of Chopin or the soulless Stalinist regime of total obedience to the state.

A thought that caught my attention was the contempt that the main wunderkind, Konstantin, holds for almost everyone else in the school. He thought of them as mediocre and/or robots. This is understandable in a Stalinist type regime, and for talentless children of aparachicks who were in the school because of their parents' connections. If their musical talents are indeed a gift, one can hardly claim to have earned such talents. It's like being born into a rich or powerful family. Through blind luck the gifted and the privileged win the lottery at birth, and while some hone their talents they still gripe. Instead of being thankful, they are (like the rest of society) resentful and despondent. In more respects than not wunderkinds in Bulgaria sounded a lot like the kids in the West who flee the common, the man in the grey flannel suit and act rebellious.

Anyway, the theme kept repeating itself--poor me, a genius stuck with bossy adults and dull kids. If it weren't for the cigarettes, sex, and booze in the attic with a few exceptionally talented kids like myself, I'd end it all. That theme is not too original and every so many pages the same theme is ground out again. In Sofia, Bulgaria under a totalitarian rule, it does have a decidedly empirical truth. However, you hear the same story of youthful angst as they try and figure out "What's it all about?" in everywhere from L.A. to Berlin. Hearing it again and again in the same book is a little tiresome even though Grozni is a wonderful writer. All in all, though, compared with current literature, the book is still a real gem not to be missed.

This is a dark, gritty, sometimes difficult read set in Bulgaria prior to the fall of communism. The narrator of the story is Konstantin, a brilliant but disillusioned adolescent pianist who is training at a special high school for musicians. Despite its musical focus, the school never ceases to push party doctrine on the students. Konstantin finds himself disgusted at the "sheep" mentality of those around him which is in stark contrast to his own rage against the system.

There is a heavy focus on music throughout the novel. I have a musical background, but I was lost in some places. I didn't find that this detracted from the story (although it did feel a bit frustrating at times). The point, however, is not the technicalities of the music, but the meaning of the music in the story-- how it moves the characters, drives them, punishes them, owns them, and saves them. Music is the one light in Konstantin's dull, grey world, his source of meaning; his relationship with the music and with those who speak his same language is touching, and eloquently portrayed.

There is no question that the novel is very heavy, and difficult in places. The setting is dark (Sofia is constantly covered by rolling grey clouds), reflecting a monochromatic life of automatonism. Konstantin often seems like a beautiful, angry bird beating his wings uselessly against a cage. His musings about his life and the world around him are frequently depressing as he feels increasingly suffocated and trapped. It is the darkness of the tone that makes the novel so effective. It drives home, relentlessly and painfully, the cruel consequences of a system in which individiuals are sacrificed for the good of the whole, the playing field is unfairly evened out, and uniqueness and independent thought are discouraged. It is an unrelenting, unflinchingly honest portrait of life under the communist regime.

If I'm being honest, it was somewhat difficult to like Konstantin's character at first; he seemed distant, self-absorbed and arrogant at times. But his sardonic, philosophical voice is compelling and relentlessly honest. And as the story continues, he makes perfect sense as a product of his environment. Even the way his character narrates reflects that environment-- a place in which you never really let anyone see the "inside" stuff. The rich reward of this novel is that eventually we do get to see the real, deeper humanity of Konstantin, and it's worth the wait.

This is not a novel that's concerned with whether it makes you feel good, or whether you like the characters. It's a raw, real, honest novel that puts you smack in the middle of a nightmare world that could happen anywhere. It opens the door to that world, pushes you inside and insists that experience it for yourself. It is about showing the truth, and it couldn't do so effectively without its raw, unapologetic grit.

It's a tough read. There were moments I wanted to put it down. And I'm so glad I didn't, because I would have missed out. If you can stick with the tough parts, this novel has tremendous rewards in store. The language is at once tight, crisp and lush and has a beautiful, almost musical flow to it. This is a novel with something to say, and it will leave you uncomfortable, unsettled, and deep in thought, the way great literature is supposed to.