Katya

I just finished, reluctantly, the novel "Katya" by Sandra Birdsell. "Reluctantly," because this is one of the very best written and most fascinating books I've read in a long time, and I wanted the experience to last as long as possible. Actually, this is one of the best books I've ever read.I am easily drawn to books about Russian history (the subtitle of "Katya" is "A Novel of the Russian Revolution"). On beginning this one, I was intrigued and surprised because rather than being invited in its pages into the worlds of native Russians or Ukrainians, I found myself stepping across the threshholds of German Mennonites living in Ukraine at the beginning of the last century: this is a world previously completely unknown to me.Ms. Birdsell's narrative style in "Katya" is marvelous, and I say this as someone who does not as a rule like stories told from the perspective of children, because most often they are clearly endowed with adult qualities. In this novel, however, the young Katya's point of view is always completely believable. Her thoughts, her feelings, and her observations all ring true. And that we are at the aged Katya's side, just as the young man with the tape recorder interviewing her is, while she remembers her early years from her room in the assisted living facility is a sweetly touching and successful convention. Another apsect of the book that I loved was becoming familiar with, down to the most seemingly mundane but actually fascinating detail, the daily lives of rural Mennonite families. And recipes imparted to us by young Katya throughout the book: marvelous.From the moment I began reading this wonderful book, suddenly it was early 19th-century Ukraine, and I was getting to know and love a girl named Katya. What a treasure to be transported so.