Recommended only for readers interested in the subject: the experience of a Polish Jewish intellectual dealing with the nightmare of his country overrun from the west by Hitler, then from east by Stalin. Wat headed east and, in Soviet hands, by luck and pluck escaped death and torture (except for near-starvation) but not some brutal incarcerations and separation from his wife and son, about whose circumstances he greatly feared but was generally unable to learn.

Wat gained interesting insights into Stalin's system. For example, he recognized that the significance of the millions in slave labor camps rested not so much in the unfortunate ones in the camps but rather in the masses not (yet) sent there: every citizen had a close relative or friend, probably innocent, inside a camp, and so was cowed by personal and daily reminders of Stalin's arbitrary and unlimited grip.

Wat is arrested about 1/3 of the way into the book and is in one or another prison for most of the rest. This part of the above blurb: "... artistic, sexual, and political experimentation --in which Wat was a major participant-- that followed the end of World War I: an explosion of talent and ideas which, he argues, in some ways helped to open the door to the destruction that the Nazis and Bolsheviks soon visited upon the world" smacks of sales pitch.

Wat's bravery and his intelligence, optimism and honesty in grave circumstances and in the telling of them, save his story from being oppressive. ( )

My Century is a memoir based on lengthy warts-and-all tape-recorded conversations between Aleksander Wat and Czeslaw Milosz, the Polish Poet, in Berkeley and Paris in 1964-1965 towards the end of Wat's life.

Wat was the founder of the communist leaning "Literary Journal" in Poland at the end of the 1920s. As Milosz says in his foreword, "there are many heroes in this book" and while talking about his own experiences Wat pays tribute to them all. Wat began life in a genteel assimilated, intellectual environment in Warsaw,the descendant of an old and distinguised Jewish family. In "My Century" he describes how many of his intellectual friends from Warsaw were ground down and destroyed by Stalinism. He tells the story of how the Polish communist party was eliminated, and why, and how he himself became an anti-communist and converted to Christianity, after a night in prison in which he was convinced he had seen the devil. The book contains some memorable, terrible descriptions of wartime prisons: Zamarstynow in Lwow, the Lubyanka in Moscow, Saratov... He also recounts his many meetings; with the "Old Communists" who had helped bring Lenin to power and who had fallen victim to the great purge in 1937; and the "Urks", the common criminals who could make life hell for the intellectuals and political prisoners. Wat never goes in for anti-Russian sentiment and in fact mentions the acts of kindness he received from ordinary Russian guards and even NKVD interrogators.

Wat, unfortunately, did not have the time to finish telling the story of his life to Milosz. The final chapter in the book is written by Wat's wife, Ola. In it she describes how Wat was befriended, and most probably saved, by an "Urk" into whose cell he was thrown when he was leading Polish (mostly exiled Polish-Jewish) resistance against the NKVD "passportization" campaign, in Kazakhstan in 1943, during which the aim was to force Poles to switch to Soviet Russian citizenship.

The last paragraph of Aleksander Wat's section of the book ends, "If it hadn't been for the kindness, the warmth that those people, those Orthodox Jews (in Kazakhstan), showed to me, a "meches", a converted Jew.... They didn't know whether I had been baptized or not. I never talked about it. But I wore a cross. Later on, when we were in revolt (against accepting Soviet passports) and were under arrest together, it was so hot that I took off my shirt. And yet I was the leader of those pious Jews in prison, me, a Jew with a cross around my neck."

In the years immediately after WWII, Wat's poetry became very influential among the younger Poles.

I place the book right up there, with Grossman's Life and Fate. ( )

Part prison/internal exile memoir, part intellectual history, this compelling and moving book is most fundamentally an exploration of ethics, human dignity, and religious struggle in the face of the horrors of Stalinism, Nazism, and the second world war. Born in 1900, Wat was the son of assimilated, intellectual Warsaw Jews who first became a futurist/dadist poet in the 1920s and, starting at the end of the decade, flirted with communism as the editor of The Literary Monthly. Arrested by the Poles, he was jailed for the first time, but not for long. Later, he rejected communism, largely because of the people who were executed (although he continued to be called a "Jewish communist")." When the Nazis invaded Poland, he and his wife, Ola, and son fled to L'wow, but became separated, although they did eventually find each other. After some time in L'wow, Wat was arrested by the Soviets and began his journey through a variety of prisons, including Moscow's notorious Lubyanka, before winding up "free" in Alma-Ata and the neighboring town of Ili.

The book is based on a series of lengthy interviews with Wat conducted by fellow Polish poet Czeslaw Milosz in Berkeley and Paris in the mid-1960s, shortly before Wat's death; he was in extreme pain even during the interviews and ultimately chose to commit suicide. Thus, except for two chapters which Wat had the opportunity to edit and make more literary, the reader is hearing Wat's voice as he talked to Milosz. And what a voice it is -- perceptive, informed, rigorously honest about human strengths and failings (including his own), unsentimental, at times prejudiced (but aware of that prejudice, e.g., the idea that Poles are superior to Russians, especially "Asian" Russians), warm, and often poetic.

The early part of the book depicts the literary and political scene in Warsaw in the 1920s and 1930s and was filled with the names of Polish and other intellectuals; this was a little heavy going for someone unfamiliar with that scene (although there is a very helpful list of people mentioned at the end of my NYRB edition). But the story picked up as the war started and the Wats fled. Wat's descriptions of the people he met in various prisons, the horrific conditions in many of them, how to adapt to prison life, the different types of interrogators, how bedbugs behave, the different kinds of lice, and much more are both spare and detailed, fascinating and profoundly depressing. Wat was very acute at picking up signs from people and hypothesized that his interrogator in the Lubyanka was no longer interested in his "crime" but was instead picking his brain about the Polish literary and intellectual scene in anticipation of the Soviets taking over Poland in the future. In prison, he worried terribly about what had happened to his family, engaged in in-depth conversations with other intellectuals, pondered (as all do) who are the informers, and underwent a religious experience in which he saw "the devil in history" and converted to Catholocism. When the Germans approached Moscow, the Lubyanka was evacuated and Wat was sent to a variety of prisons further east. Ultimately released, although barely alive, he traveled to Alma-Ata (despite not having papers to go there) to try to find Ola and his son; after heroic efforts, he did.. Everyone was desperately hungry, struggling to find food. Through connections with the delegation of the Polish government (in exile in London) in Alma-Ata, Wat was able for a time to find some work and some access to supplies the delegation received from foreign sources, but it was a very hand-to-mouth existence both there and in the smaller town of Ili where they wind up. The book ends, because the interviews ended, but the NYRB edition includes an excerpt from Ola Wat's memoirs which describes Wat's role in resisting the Soviet government's efforts to force Soviet passports on Polish citizens in Ili, and both their experiences in prisons, hers more terrifying than his.

The best part of this book is Wat's voice, his warmth, his perception, and his ceaseless self-evaluation. But almost equally fascinating is the varied cast of characters who pass through Wat's life, from Warsaw intellectuals to urks (Russian criminals), from NKVD officers with aristocratic manners to people from poorer walks of life who help him (or despise him), from people going mad from imprisonment to people who somehow learn to live with it. One of the interesting aspects is that everyone is acutely aware not only of each other's social status within the community of the cell, but also of their ethnicity or national background. In prison and elsewhere, Jews gravitate to other Jews, Poles to other Poles, and so on, and Wat is quick to point out if someone has a Mongol-type face, or looks like a Kazakh. This makes the challenge of the Stalinist effort to make all the various nationalities "Soviet" come alive. Finally, I found Wat's thoughts about such varied topics as the similarities between communism and Nazism, how to talk to interrogators, nighttime conversations between a former Polish cavalry captain and an Ukrainian peasant based on their shared love of animals, literary works and people, religion and the relationship between Judaism and Christianity, endlessly fascinating.

Deze memoires zijn, net als die van Nadjezda Mandelstam, behoorlijk verbluffend om lezen. Czeslaw Milosz ontpopt zich als ideale vertolker om Wat's rijke, discursieve en poëtisch-holistische gedachtengang zo optimaal mogelijk naar boven te brengen. Verplichte lectuur voor elke russofiel, en bij extensie voor iedereen die wil kennis maken met de twintigste eeuwse "geknechte geest"!
Bovendien graag vermelden dat het wijlen Gerard Rasch siert dat hij dit belangrijk boek heeft helpen ontsluiten voor ons taalgebied. ( )