Could this really be the first Latvian novel I have read
that reflects my times growing up as a Latvian? Vilnis Baumanis is older than I
am, his mother was my Latvian school teacher and taught me not only about
Latvian grammar, but a love for the language and literature. I knew his three
sisters (I still run into him and two of his sisters now and then), and the
house that he describes in this book. His novel is a thinly disguised
reflection on his own youth, how he fell in love with his wife, and the
community of Latvians that lived behind the liquor store in the 1950’s to 60’s,
before they could afford their own spaces. I know my father lived in a cramped
house in Brooklyn with at least a dozen other people when he first came to
America. I do not remember all the people that lived in the Baumanis house, but
I do remember his mom and sisters, and another teacher and her family. I
occasionally went to their house to practice a play for Latvian school with my
two teachers.
I have no idea how much of this story is true, as Baumanis
makes the story more thrilling with some Russian mob characters threatening the
house, but my cousin, who was the same age as Vilnis said that much of it was
true and that he participated in some of the activities described. So we get a
good reflection on how Latvian youth lived their first years in America. These
were high school and college aged, they met frequently, had their local youth
group, danced folk dances, sang, participated in plays. His love interest lived
in a basement apartment a few blocks from his house. I remember this basement
very well, as I spent years going there every week to practice folk dancing and
a group exercise for performance (don't ask, I can't explain it). I remember couches in one corner – that must have been the youth
hang out space. The only other character I recognized in the book was the woman
who directed them in the performance of Brigadere play Princess Gundega and
King Brusubarda. Pauline Dumina was my aunt's friend and I know she was a
big theater person, but I never had a chance to work with her. I am planning to
meet a woman who is depicted as a little girl in this book within the next few
weeks. Maybe she can shed some light on some of the other characters.
My cousin commented on Baumanis’ rich language, and I have
to agree, it is definitely beyond our daily use Latvian, and seems different
from the Latvian used here in Latvia in some way.
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