Russia's Forests: The Backbone of Its Identity?
A staggering 642 billion trees sprawl across Russia, a landmass rivalled only by the vastness of the Milky Way in terms of celestial bodies. However, while this natural wealth may seem an untouchable resource, it has long been a battleground for human interests and national identity.
Professor Sophie Pinkham's latest book delves into the intricacies of how Russia's forests have shaped its psyche and played a pivotal role in the country's history, society, and literature. From the 13th-century Mongol invasion to the current conflict in Ukraine, Russia's forests have served as a literal battlefield, with military success often depending on an understanding of the terrain.
The forest has also been a source of artistic inspiration, with writers like Pushkin and Tolstoy drawing upon its imagery. Pinkham masterfully weaves together tales of literary giants, colourful characters such as environmental activist Andrei Khristoforov, who identified as a tree, and the Lykov family, who lived in seclusion for decades.
Throughout her narrative, Pinkham's prose is spare yet evocative, conveying the beauty and majesty of Russia's forests. Her love for animals shines through in vivid descriptions of wildlife, from lynxes dancing on motorboats to wolf cubs nibbling leaves and bark. However, this meandering journey sometimes feels like a meandering path, with some sections feeling jarring and repetitive.
Despite these quibbles, Pinkham makes a compelling case for the forest as a prism through which to understand Russia – including its former Soviet space – and its people. The book highlights the resilience of the Russian forests, whether in the face of war, human interference, or nuclear disaster. As one activist wryly remarks, "Do you know how many Putins there have been in our time? Go into the woods, hide, don't stick your head out, and wait."
Ultimately, Pinkham's exploration of Russia's forests reveals a complex tapestry woven from human interests, national identity, and the natural world. As the climate crisis looms ominously, her book serves as a timely reminder of the importance of respecting this natural wealth – not just for its economic value but for its role in shaping the country's very essence.
A staggering 642 billion trees sprawl across Russia, a landmass rivalled only by the vastness of the Milky Way in terms of celestial bodies. However, while this natural wealth may seem an untouchable resource, it has long been a battleground for human interests and national identity.
Professor Sophie Pinkham's latest book delves into the intricacies of how Russia's forests have shaped its psyche and played a pivotal role in the country's history, society, and literature. From the 13th-century Mongol invasion to the current conflict in Ukraine, Russia's forests have served as a literal battlefield, with military success often depending on an understanding of the terrain.
The forest has also been a source of artistic inspiration, with writers like Pushkin and Tolstoy drawing upon its imagery. Pinkham masterfully weaves together tales of literary giants, colourful characters such as environmental activist Andrei Khristoforov, who identified as a tree, and the Lykov family, who lived in seclusion for decades.
Throughout her narrative, Pinkham's prose is spare yet evocative, conveying the beauty and majesty of Russia's forests. Her love for animals shines through in vivid descriptions of wildlife, from lynxes dancing on motorboats to wolf cubs nibbling leaves and bark. However, this meandering journey sometimes feels like a meandering path, with some sections feeling jarring and repetitive.
Despite these quibbles, Pinkham makes a compelling case for the forest as a prism through which to understand Russia – including its former Soviet space – and its people. The book highlights the resilience of the Russian forests, whether in the face of war, human interference, or nuclear disaster. As one activist wryly remarks, "Do you know how many Putins there have been in our time? Go into the woods, hide, don't stick your head out, and wait."
Ultimately, Pinkham's exploration of Russia's forests reveals a complex tapestry woven from human interests, national identity, and the natural world. As the climate crisis looms ominously, her book serves as a timely reminder of the importance of respecting this natural wealth – not just for its economic value but for its role in shaping the country's very essence.