Avelum by Otar Chiladze: book review

Avelum (1995, English version 2013) is subtitled: A Survey of the Current Press and a Few Love Affairs. It is more than that, as it is also a commentary of the Soviet-Georgian relations, an analysis of Georgia’s history, and a semi-memoir disguised by the use of first person narrative form. The title Avelum—the name of the narrator—is a Sumarian name meaning “free citizen with full civic rights.”

The novel is set in the country Georgia—framing the personal with the political.

Otar Chiladze (1933-2009) book-ended the “novel” between two political dates critical in Georgian history: 9 March 1956 (Soviet troops fired on students in the main street of Tbilisi, the nation’s capital—known as the Tbilisi massacre) and 9 April 1989 (anti-Soviet demonstrations in Tbilisi—now celebrated annually as National Unity Day). The narrator, Avelum, is a writer documenting his thoughts in 1989. He says in the first chapter, “this missive won’t, dear idle reader, be … as interesting as an inquisitive woman’s diary, nor will it be as instructive as the memoirs of a man who has been through the mill in his time.” Although the novel parallels Chiladze’s real life, Avelum describes himself as “more of a lyricist than a politician.”

Chiladze writes of the two dates—and the 23 years in-between—as an explanation of why they both placed his native country, Georgia, in jeopardy. Other minor dates include 26 April 1986 (the Chernobyl nuclear accident that affected people in Georgia) and 6 December 1988 (the Spitak earthquake in Armenia, less than 100 miles from Tbilisi).

Avelum is the same age, nationality, profession, and gender as the author, and recounts incidences in his life, such as during the conflict of 1945 in which his parents are deported from Georgia back to Siberia. At 12 years of age he makes the decision to give away his sister to prevent her from dying of hunger. This shapes his character and his relationships with his daughters.

Intertwined in the political narrative is a personal account of Avelum’s love affairs, especially that of a French woman, Francoise, whom he met when she visited Tbilisi. Married to Melania with a daughter, Little Katie, he has an affair with Francoise resulting in a daughter. From Paris, Francoise takes a job in Moscow for two years to be closer to Avelum. This does not bring relief to Avelum, but instead further complicates the relationship due to her expectations that he will visit her regularly. When Francoise returns to Paris, Avelum has a new mistress in Moscow: Sonia.

Francoise’s daughter visits her father when she is 13 years old—the first time that Avelum sees her, so he has been a distant father. His daughter, Katie, attends the 1989 anti-Soviet demonstration against his will. His wife Melania never feels hatred, anger, or envy towards Francoise and Sonia, much younger than her, but her patience wasn’t endless. Thus he never makes any of the women in his life happy—not his wife, mistresses, or daughters. But, as Avelum says, “Everyone builds his own ark.” However, it is Melania that he feels more connected to because they share the same history; both were together in 1956 and 1989 on the critical historical dates.

With the constancy of troops and bullets, the conflict between neighbouring countries seems eternal to Avelum: “everyone thought Georgians were doomed to perish.”

Chiladze’s style is at times self-deprecating, pessimistic, troubled by doubt and uncertainty, and even a little sarcastic. Avelum the “free citizen” never feels free in his own country. However, Chiladze’s conversational, open, honest, lyrical style is easy to read as it presents a life beyond Avelum’s, giving readers a perspective of Georgian history and the life of its citizens.

Chiladze’s fifth novel has been described as his greatest, almost winning him the Nobel Prize in 1999, but I still prefer his 1972 epic, A Man was Going Down the Road.