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Disappearing Earth
Goodreads Choice Award
Nominee for Best Mystery & Thriller (2019)One August afternoon, on the shoreline of the north-eastern edge of Russia, two sisters are abducted. In the ensuing weeks, then months, the police investigation turns up nothing. Echoes of the disappearance reverberate across a tightly woven community, with the fear and loss felt most deeply among its women.
Set on the remote Siberian peninsula of Kamchatka, Disappearing Earth draws us into the world of an astonishing cast of characters, all connected by an unfathomable crime. We are transported to vistas of rugged beauty – densely wooded forests, open expanses of tundra, soaring volcanoes and the glassy seas that border Japan and Alaska – and into a region as complex as it is alluring, where social and ethnic tensions have long simmered, and where outsiders are often the first to be accused.
In a story as propulsive as it is emotionally engaging, and through a young writer's virtuosic feat of empathy and imagination, this powerful novel provides a new understanding of the intricate bonds of family and community, in a Russia unlike any we have seen before.
Beautifully written, thought-provoking, intense and cleverly wrought, this is the most extraordinary first novel from a mesmerising new talent.
Set on the remote Siberian peninsula of Kamchatka, Disappearing Earth draws us into the world of an astonishing cast of characters, all connected by an unfathomable crime. We are transported to vistas of rugged beauty – densely wooded forests, open expanses of tundra, soaring volcanoes and the glassy seas that border Japan and Alaska – and into a region as complex as it is alluring, where social and ethnic tensions have long simmered, and where outsiders are often the first to be accused.
In a story as propulsive as it is emotionally engaging, and through a young writer's virtuosic feat of empathy and imagination, this powerful novel provides a new understanding of the intricate bonds of family and community, in a Russia unlike any we have seen before.
Beautifully written, thought-provoking, intense and cleverly wrought, this is the most extraordinary first novel from a mesmerising new talent.
312 pages, Hardcover
First published May 22, 2019
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 6,806 reviews
December 23, 2023
I think we can all agree that the correct response to the ending of this book is a violently whispered, “what the fuck.”
Julia Phillips does not make it easy on the reviewer charged with describing her book. The first chapter opens with two young sisters—Alyona and Sophia Golosovskaya, ages 11 and 8—soaking up the sun one August afternoon at the edge of a bay in far eastern Russia’s Kamchatka Peninsula. By chapter’s end where the sisters had been there was naught but absence, like a rift in the world where something precious had been and then was lost. They’ve disappeared like windblown ghosts—lured, it seems, into a strange man’s shiny black car.
From there, Disappearing Earth departs radically and refreshingly from the expected. The novel breaks into a dozen story lines, told by a dozen narrators, over the span of a year, and by pivoting so quickly, the author throws the reader utterly off guard. Don’t expect this book to rush forth with a brimming cup of answers. Phillips is in no hurry to cut to the chase, and the novel is less concerned with solving the mystery, and more preoccupied with bringing readers deep into the interior lives of the women who were, directly or indirectly, affected by the tragedy—like tossing a stone into a pond and watching the ripple pass across its surface.
The novel does little to clarify how all the characters fit together. At first, at least, it’s markedly confusing. Disappearing Earth is rather like a puzzle that you must try to piece together by figuring out how the characters will ultimately relate to one another. Throughout, I was dogged by the feeling that there was something important I wasn’t paying attention to, and the epic converging of plotlines at the end cut straight through the whirlwind in my mind, leaving me with an ache in my chest from emotions that wouldn’t fit right.
The novel’s big triumph, however, lies in its expert evocation of life in Russia’s isolated, volcano-studded Kamchatka Peninsula, and then intricately tying it to the brilliantly rendered characters. In vivid flashes of imagery, Phillips lays bare the foibles of the town’s life, with its seasons, hardships, beauties, and latent violence boiling beneath the surface. Her sense of place is undeniably acute, but it is the author’s attention and control of an unwieldy cast of characters and the relationships that are shaped by this unforgiving, magnificent landscape that stuck fast, smoldering, as if branded by fire, onto the surface of my thoughts. Phillips fits big emotion and big thought into each chapter, each story. Everything the reader could want to know about the novel’s complex—sometimes even detestable—characters is laid out in these accounts: you know right away where every character fits, both in the sense of where society has put them and where they’d rather be. It’s what kicks an interesting mystery into something much more visceral, and I was left genuinely impressed.
The exploration of cultural misogyny also manifests itself in clever, subtle ways throughout. Phillips plunges the reader into the broken shards of the violence permeating women’s lives, and it’s like a living thing slowly taking shape between the pages.
Disappearing Earth brims with stories about women, in some way or another, struggling from the webbing of society, desperate to escape the sour smell of shame and judgment that settles like ash over their lives. A single mother who’s lost her daughters and is seeing the pity and scorn on everyone’s faces, and feeling it in the rawness of her flesh and the ache of her every movement. A college student unwittingly stuck in an abusive relationship that was as cramped and airless as a coffin, and she could barely breathe or move in it. Another unwed mother consumed by a general sense of dread and imprisonment within her boyfriend’s “garbage palace of a rental house” and so she leaves, her daughter in tow, hoping to burn her past like the fuse on a stick of dynamite but resignedly discovers that she only has enough money to make it to her parents’ house. A twice-widowed woman whose grief was a feeling weighted with stones, as if she were falling into ocean depths. Another young woman in a party, surrounded by drunk men, feeling the fear rising in her, sudden and sharp, for her friend after she spoke freely of breaking up with her girlfriend. Another missing girl; only this time her disappearance is only met with a pitying shake of the head because she had a "reputation", and worse, with scathing indifference because she was not white. All the while, the kidnapping of the Golosovskaya sisters is always there, a shimmering apparition in the corner of their lives, and all of them are wearying under the burden of the reminder that “if you aren’t doing what you’re supposed to, if you let your guard down, they will come for you.”
A deeply meditative, heart-rending tale with a profoundly emotional, universal core, Disappearing Earth should not be missed.
Julia Phillips does not make it easy on the reviewer charged with describing her book. The first chapter opens with two young sisters—Alyona and Sophia Golosovskaya, ages 11 and 8—soaking up the sun one August afternoon at the edge of a bay in far eastern Russia’s Kamchatka Peninsula. By chapter’s end where the sisters had been there was naught but absence, like a rift in the world where something precious had been and then was lost. They’ve disappeared like windblown ghosts—lured, it seems, into a strange man’s shiny black car.
From there, Disappearing Earth departs radically and refreshingly from the expected. The novel breaks into a dozen story lines, told by a dozen narrators, over the span of a year, and by pivoting so quickly, the author throws the reader utterly off guard. Don’t expect this book to rush forth with a brimming cup of answers. Phillips is in no hurry to cut to the chase, and the novel is less concerned with solving the mystery, and more preoccupied with bringing readers deep into the interior lives of the women who were, directly or indirectly, affected by the tragedy—like tossing a stone into a pond and watching the ripple pass across its surface.
The novel does little to clarify how all the characters fit together. At first, at least, it’s markedly confusing. Disappearing Earth is rather like a puzzle that you must try to piece together by figuring out how the characters will ultimately relate to one another. Throughout, I was dogged by the feeling that there was something important I wasn’t paying attention to, and the epic converging of plotlines at the end cut straight through the whirlwind in my mind, leaving me with an ache in my chest from emotions that wouldn’t fit right.
The novel’s big triumph, however, lies in its expert evocation of life in Russia’s isolated, volcano-studded Kamchatka Peninsula, and then intricately tying it to the brilliantly rendered characters. In vivid flashes of imagery, Phillips lays bare the foibles of the town’s life, with its seasons, hardships, beauties, and latent violence boiling beneath the surface. Her sense of place is undeniably acute, but it is the author’s attention and control of an unwieldy cast of characters and the relationships that are shaped by this unforgiving, magnificent landscape that stuck fast, smoldering, as if branded by fire, onto the surface of my thoughts. Phillips fits big emotion and big thought into each chapter, each story. Everything the reader could want to know about the novel’s complex—sometimes even detestable—characters is laid out in these accounts: you know right away where every character fits, both in the sense of where society has put them and where they’d rather be. It’s what kicks an interesting mystery into something much more visceral, and I was left genuinely impressed.
The exploration of cultural misogyny also manifests itself in clever, subtle ways throughout. Phillips plunges the reader into the broken shards of the violence permeating women’s lives, and it’s like a living thing slowly taking shape between the pages.
Disappearing Earth brims with stories about women, in some way or another, struggling from the webbing of society, desperate to escape the sour smell of shame and judgment that settles like ash over their lives. A single mother who’s lost her daughters and is seeing the pity and scorn on everyone’s faces, and feeling it in the rawness of her flesh and the ache of her every movement. A college student unwittingly stuck in an abusive relationship that was as cramped and airless as a coffin, and she could barely breathe or move in it. Another unwed mother consumed by a general sense of dread and imprisonment within her boyfriend’s “garbage palace of a rental house” and so she leaves, her daughter in tow, hoping to burn her past like the fuse on a stick of dynamite but resignedly discovers that she only has enough money to make it to her parents’ house. A twice-widowed woman whose grief was a feeling weighted with stones, as if she were falling into ocean depths. Another young woman in a party, surrounded by drunk men, feeling the fear rising in her, sudden and sharp, for her friend after she spoke freely of breaking up with her girlfriend. Another missing girl; only this time her disappearance is only met with a pitying shake of the head because she had a "reputation", and worse, with scathing indifference because she was not white. All the while, the kidnapping of the Golosovskaya sisters is always there, a shimmering apparition in the corner of their lives, and all of them are wearying under the burden of the reminder that “if you aren’t doing what you’re supposed to, if you let your guard down, they will come for you.”
You believe that you keep yourself safe, she thought. You lock up your mind and guard your reactions so nobody, not an interrogator or a parent or a friend, will break in. You earn a graduate degree and a good position. You keep your savings in a foreign currency and you pay your bills on time. When your colleagues ask you about your home life, you don’t answer. You work harder. You exercise. Your clothing flatters. You keep the edge of your affection sharp, a knife, so that those near you know to handle it carefully. You think you established some protection and then you discover that you endangered yourself to everyone you ever met.
A deeply meditative, heart-rending tale with a profoundly emotional, universal core, Disappearing Earth should not be missed.
May 29, 2019
What answers could Alla Innokentevna have for her? Marina might ask what it was like to see your child turn thirteen, or fifteen, or graduate from high school. How it felt to know, and not just suspect, that if you had been a better parent, more attentive, more responsible, then your baby would not be gone today. How to go on.
Disappearing Earth is quite an extraordinary novel. There is a missing persons mystery at the centre of the book, but no one should go into this expecting a typical mystery. Or a typical anything at all.
I love it when an author tries something different and it just works. Here, Phillips begins on the remote Kamchatka peninsula, in the city of Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky, with two young girls accepting a ride home from a stranger and then going missing. The need to discover the girls' fate offers an immediate emotional pull, but their disappearance hovers mostly in the background for the many different stories that follow it.
And Disappearing Earth contains just that-- many stories. It can be read almost like a short story collection, with all stories alluding to or being affected by the missing girls. Phillips introduces us to many different characters, each one completely distinct, complex and sympathetic.
Natasha sent him back a selfie with her middle finger raised. Then she followed that almost instantly with a picture of herself lit by the lamp on their bedside table, her top lowered, her lips and cheeks spun by the low wattage into dark gold. The story of their marriage: a little love, a little rage, a lot of ocean water.
The author looks at small town fears and suspicions. The unusual and effective choice to tell each chapter from a different point of view allows for a bigger picture of this place to develop, as well as an intimate portrait of all the characters. It reminds me of Winesburg, Ohio in its scope and beauty, and a bit of Orange's There There in its interlinking but separate stories.
It was also beautifully atmospheric to me. I love books with a strong sense of place, and I feel like this can create a mood which permeates the entire novel. I should add that here this is probably at least in part due to my complete ignorance of this area of the world, both its geography and its customs. So to me it was a very new experience. I am curious what Russian readers will think.
Through so many different perspectives, we see how the disappearance of the girls affects everyone, and how this changes over time. The initial panic and fear of outsiders, the comparison to other disappearances, and the gradual fading from memory. I also found it very interesting how the author managed to comment on so many different issues - post-Soviet society, racism against natives, and homophobia, for example - without it becoming a book about said issues. The exploration of all these things rises organically out of the characters living their lives, and is never heavy-handed, preachy or judgemental.
It's a beautiful smart read for fans of "literary thrillers" and a thoughtful meditation on culture, race, sexuality, and small town politics in Russia after the fall of the Soviet Union. Between this and Miracle Creek, I am really falling in love with these complex character dramas with a mystery/thriller backdrop. I always used to say my favourite thrillers were those that focused on the characters and were rewarding even if you figured out the reveal. Well, I guess I found the perfect kind of book for me.
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June 15, 2021
I had high hopes going into Disappearing Earth as I had heard so many great things about it. But it pretty much disappointed me from beginning to end. I think this is a case of mismatched expectations. Everything that others loved about this book are all the same reasons I don't.
The premise of this book is interesting enough: two young girls disappear from a Russian town, which sends the the townspeople reeling over the next few months as the investigation turns up nothing. Except what I got isn't what I expected.
First, there was no investigation depicted in this book. It was mostly a bunch of hearsay on the part of gossipy townspeople and inaction/incompetence on the part of the police. So to go into this book thinking it is a mystery of any sort would be mistaken. Unfortunately, that is the part I was most looking forward to.
The writing is somewhat stilted and awkward. There are sentences where the meaning is unclear, so I have to read it multiple times to understand. There are ambiguous pronouns. There are odd dialogues where it sounds like someone is making a joke, but it's not clear why it's funny or who said what. All this made the book hard to read.
The theme doesn't tie together either. This book is written so that each chapter is a month from the perspective of a different woman in town. Unfortunately, with one exception, their stories don't have anything to do with each other, so you are essentially reading standalone stories that all just happen to take place in the same town.
Also, none of the characters are likable or memorable. Most of them are narrow-minded, prejudiced, and quick to judge others. When faced with choices, they inevitability make the wrong ones. But instead of learning from their mistakes, they choose to suffer and look down their noses at others trying have a little joy in their life. It's an odd culture that permeates this town and this book.
I almost abandoned it many times, but I thought it would get better if I toughed on. The only parts of the book I found interesting are the ones related to the crime itself, which are just the beginning and the end. The rest is a meandering journey with unlikable characters making the worst of circumstances and feeling bad for themselves. I'm sorry to say that that isn't for me.
The premise of this book is interesting enough: two young girls disappear from a Russian town, which sends the the townspeople reeling over the next few months as the investigation turns up nothing. Except what I got isn't what I expected.
First, there was no investigation depicted in this book. It was mostly a bunch of hearsay on the part of gossipy townspeople and inaction/incompetence on the part of the police. So to go into this book thinking it is a mystery of any sort would be mistaken. Unfortunately, that is the part I was most looking forward to.
The writing is somewhat stilted and awkward. There are sentences where the meaning is unclear, so I have to read it multiple times to understand. There are ambiguous pronouns. There are odd dialogues where it sounds like someone is making a joke, but it's not clear why it's funny or who said what. All this made the book hard to read.
The theme doesn't tie together either. This book is written so that each chapter is a month from the perspective of a different woman in town. Unfortunately, with one exception, their stories don't have anything to do with each other, so you are essentially reading standalone stories that all just happen to take place in the same town.
Also, none of the characters are likable or memorable. Most of them are narrow-minded, prejudiced, and quick to judge others. When faced with choices, they inevitability make the wrong ones. But instead of learning from their mistakes, they choose to suffer and look down their noses at others trying have a little joy in their life. It's an odd culture that permeates this town and this book.
I almost abandoned it many times, but I thought it would get better if I toughed on. The only parts of the book I found interesting are the ones related to the crime itself, which are just the beginning and the end. The rest is a meandering journey with unlikable characters making the worst of circumstances and feeling bad for themselves. I'm sorry to say that that isn't for me.
November 14, 2019
oooh, goodreads choice awards semifinalist for BEST MYSTERY/THRILLER 2019! what will happen?
this is one of those rare perfect books. the fact that it’s a debut only makes it more impressive, and no matter what this author writes next, i will be on it immediately.
i was fortunate enough to stumble upon a free arc of this, thinking-to-self, ‘this looks like it could be good,’ and then when i saw all the high praise it was receiving in its early reviews, i decided to bump it up the old arc-stack and see what all the fuss was about.
lemme tell you, the fuss is earned.
it takes place on russia’s kamchatka peninsula, and at its center is the disappearance of two little girls; sisters eight and eleven, who get into a stranger’s car and… vanish.
each chapter that follows carries the story forward a month - from the girls’ abduction in august to the following july, and each is told from a different character’s perspective. the disappearance worms its way into every chapter, but is usually only used to season the stories - how the situation affected different people who live in the area, most of whom had no direct connection with the girls themselves, and each chapter is gripping and fully-realized enough to stand alone as a short story.
it’s such an original way to tell a missing-kids narrative; using that same structure i love in Winesburg, Ohio - a smalltown short story cycle that both is and isn’t a novel, but this one has more specific touchpoints, and as time passes, the impact of the tragedy shifts the way any sensational news story shifts with the passing of time and proximity, slipping into cautionary tale or local legend, dredging up memories of earlier disappearances, giving way to ’where were you when…’ recollections, becoming a different kind of collective reference point.
most multiple POV books will pick a handful of characters and alternate between them, and it was a great moment of realization for me, about three chapters in, when i clocked to the, “oh, so we’re just not going to go back to that character’s POV at all, wow.” at first, i was a little disappointed, because i had become invested in particular voices, but with each chapter, i found myself making a whole new investment, and once i started approaching this more as a short story cycle, i appreciated it even more, because that’s just so freaking hard to pull off, and she does it remarkably well. characters do pop up again, but seen through someone else’s eyes, and these transitions and the recurring motifs are handled beautifully.
i admit to being a very ignorant person when it comes to culture and geography, and this book introduced me to a region i knew absolutely nothing about; phillips’ descriptions of the landscape, ethnic makeup, history, and social fabric of kamchatka was illuminating and engrossing and - without a drop of hyperbole on my part - masterful.
i loved this book so very much. her writing is flawless, the build is rich and textured, the ending is satisfying. my only (oh-so-minor) complaint is i wish she hadn’t dropped that mic in the final paragraph, because we knew without it being pointed out and i think it would have been more elegant to not call attention to it so explicitly.
but i mean, really - that’s not even a couple’s spat in the love i have for this book.
it is not to be missed.
***************************
stunned.
a brilliant, brilliant debut. review to come.
come to my blog!
this is one of those rare perfect books. the fact that it’s a debut only makes it more impressive, and no matter what this author writes next, i will be on it immediately.
i was fortunate enough to stumble upon a free arc of this, thinking-to-self, ‘this looks like it could be good,’ and then when i saw all the high praise it was receiving in its early reviews, i decided to bump it up the old arc-stack and see what all the fuss was about.
lemme tell you, the fuss is earned.
it takes place on russia’s kamchatka peninsula, and at its center is the disappearance of two little girls; sisters eight and eleven, who get into a stranger’s car and… vanish.
each chapter that follows carries the story forward a month - from the girls’ abduction in august to the following july, and each is told from a different character’s perspective. the disappearance worms its way into every chapter, but is usually only used to season the stories - how the situation affected different people who live in the area, most of whom had no direct connection with the girls themselves, and each chapter is gripping and fully-realized enough to stand alone as a short story.
it’s such an original way to tell a missing-kids narrative; using that same structure i love in Winesburg, Ohio - a smalltown short story cycle that both is and isn’t a novel, but this one has more specific touchpoints, and as time passes, the impact of the tragedy shifts the way any sensational news story shifts with the passing of time and proximity, slipping into cautionary tale or local legend, dredging up memories of earlier disappearances, giving way to ’where were you when…’ recollections, becoming a different kind of collective reference point.
most multiple POV books will pick a handful of characters and alternate between them, and it was a great moment of realization for me, about three chapters in, when i clocked to the, “oh, so we’re just not going to go back to that character’s POV at all, wow.” at first, i was a little disappointed, because i had become invested in particular voices, but with each chapter, i found myself making a whole new investment, and once i started approaching this more as a short story cycle, i appreciated it even more, because that’s just so freaking hard to pull off, and she does it remarkably well. characters do pop up again, but seen through someone else’s eyes, and these transitions and the recurring motifs are handled beautifully.
i admit to being a very ignorant person when it comes to culture and geography, and this book introduced me to a region i knew absolutely nothing about; phillips’ descriptions of the landscape, ethnic makeup, history, and social fabric of kamchatka was illuminating and engrossing and - without a drop of hyperbole on my part - masterful.
i loved this book so very much. her writing is flawless, the build is rich and textured, the ending is satisfying. my only (oh-so-minor) complaint is i wish she hadn’t dropped that mic in the final paragraph, because we knew without it being pointed out and i think it would have been more elegant to not call attention to it so explicitly.
but i mean, really - that’s not even a couple’s spat in the love i have for this book.
it is not to be missed.
***************************
stunned.
a brilliant, brilliant debut. review to come.
come to my blog!
October 13, 2022
"One hand came up to press on her sternum. Her heart hurt. If Marina could peel off her left breast, crack back her ribs, and grip that muscular organ to settle it, she would. She started having these attacks last August, after her daughters had disappeared. A doctor gave her tablets to relieve the anxiety. Those did not help. No prescription brought her children home."
Wow. It's been a hot minute since a debut novel created such a deep well of emotion in me, so much so that I am shocked that Disappearing Earth is not written by a seasoned author. It seems to me that a quiet buzz has grown around this book; I hadn't heard of it before, but all at once I saw glowing review after glowing review roll in, while also finding it placed prominently in our local Barnes and Noble. After seeing it newly placed on the shelf at the library, I decided to grab it before someone else did and jump on the hype train to see what all the fuss was about. I'm thrilled that I did, because I've been in somewhat of a reading funk, and this was exactly the type of story I needed to focus my mind where I want it to be.
If you read the synopsis, it informs you that this is a story involving the disappearance of two young girls in a remote part of Russia, but the real gold here is the ripple effect of how this event disturbs the lives of a large cast of characters. (Don't worry, there's a handy list at the beginning of the book that I referred to with each passing chapter, and only adds to the charm of this form of storytelling.) If you're looking for a fast paced thriller or a police procedural focusing on the kidnapping, that's not what this story is, but it offers something far more valuable and insightful. We do get some answers by the end of the book, but the beauty of this tale is that the disappearance is simultaneously at the forefront and background, as it is the driving factor of the choices that these townspeople make over the following calendar year, but it also doesn't take flashy center stage as to allow the reader to connect with each narrator along the way.
One of the strongest aspects of this book is its ability to create a strong sense of place, to the point that the setting and atmospheric descriptions are just as much characters of the story as the people we hear from. Disappearing Earth is a slow-burning character study, but it never felt dull or boring. I found it best to read a few sections per evening, take some time to ponder, and either alternate with another book or simply wait to pick this back up the following day. If you're looking for a unique read, one that is reminiscent of literary fiction without pretense or snobbery, look no further. Highly recommended, and I simply cannot wait to see what the author decides to regale us with next!
Wow. It's been a hot minute since a debut novel created such a deep well of emotion in me, so much so that I am shocked that Disappearing Earth is not written by a seasoned author. It seems to me that a quiet buzz has grown around this book; I hadn't heard of it before, but all at once I saw glowing review after glowing review roll in, while also finding it placed prominently in our local Barnes and Noble. After seeing it newly placed on the shelf at the library, I decided to grab it before someone else did and jump on the hype train to see what all the fuss was about. I'm thrilled that I did, because I've been in somewhat of a reading funk, and this was exactly the type of story I needed to focus my mind where I want it to be.
If you read the synopsis, it informs you that this is a story involving the disappearance of two young girls in a remote part of Russia, but the real gold here is the ripple effect of how this event disturbs the lives of a large cast of characters. (Don't worry, there's a handy list at the beginning of the book that I referred to with each passing chapter, and only adds to the charm of this form of storytelling.) If you're looking for a fast paced thriller or a police procedural focusing on the kidnapping, that's not what this story is, but it offers something far more valuable and insightful. We do get some answers by the end of the book, but the beauty of this tale is that the disappearance is simultaneously at the forefront and background, as it is the driving factor of the choices that these townspeople make over the following calendar year, but it also doesn't take flashy center stage as to allow the reader to connect with each narrator along the way.
One of the strongest aspects of this book is its ability to create a strong sense of place, to the point that the setting and atmospheric descriptions are just as much characters of the story as the people we hear from. Disappearing Earth is a slow-burning character study, but it never felt dull or boring. I found it best to read a few sections per evening, take some time to ponder, and either alternate with another book or simply wait to pick this back up the following day. If you're looking for a unique read, one that is reminiscent of literary fiction without pretense or snobbery, look no further. Highly recommended, and I simply cannot wait to see what the author decides to regale us with next!
June 13, 2019
The premise of Disappearing Earth was the immediate reason behind choosing this novel. The Kamchatka Peninsula is I guess 10 time zones away from where I live, and has always been mysterious and unreachable to me. The landscape and its diversity regarding the population are the main themes of the novel. The abduction of two girls is only the pretext for portraying modern inhabitants, their dreams and failures.
The first chapter tells the story of the kidnapping but if you want to read a thriller in which you might seek thorough investigation done by a team of clever police officers, you will be disappointed. BUT you will not be disappointed if you want to learn about the lives of ordinary people living in that remote region.
Each chapter tells a story of a different female character who is loosely connected with the two abducted girls, and I was especially touched by two of them, one being that of the girls’ mother, and the other of a woman who loses her four-legged friend with whom she has a special bond. It is interesting that men in this novel appear only in the background and are not given a chance to reflect on their inner lives. Coincidence? I do not think so. The beauty of the landscape and the way the indigenous population relates to it are exceptionally vividly presented.
And one more thing. Chapter One, the actual abduction, is one of the best I have read recently … it did give me the shivers …
A splendid debut from Ms Phillips!
The first chapter tells the story of the kidnapping but if you want to read a thriller in which you might seek thorough investigation done by a team of clever police officers, you will be disappointed. BUT you will not be disappointed if you want to learn about the lives of ordinary people living in that remote region.
Each chapter tells a story of a different female character who is loosely connected with the two abducted girls, and I was especially touched by two of them, one being that of the girls’ mother, and the other of a woman who loses her four-legged friend with whom she has a special bond. It is interesting that men in this novel appear only in the background and are not given a chance to reflect on their inner lives. Coincidence? I do not think so. The beauty of the landscape and the way the indigenous population relates to it are exceptionally vividly presented.
And one more thing. Chapter One, the actual abduction, is one of the best I have read recently … it did give me the shivers …
A splendid debut from Ms Phillips!
September 19, 2020
Let’s start with the elephant in the room, shall we? It’s a book set in Russia, about Russians, written by an American who lived there for a couple of years. It can be a recipe for an awkward disaster — can be, but really isn’t. Phillips avoids the easy and common trap of exploiting an “exotic” locale precisely for its differences from what your intended audiences know, the trap that can lead to crossing the line from respectful to insensitively offensive or at least laughably ridiculous. When you write about another culture, another experience, another anything, you need to approach it with respect and research that goes beyond stereotypes and a handful of Wikipedia articles. Julia Phillips gets it.
She builds her book on real lived experience, having spent over a year living in Kamchatka - a remote peninsula hanging off Siberia in Russia’s far cold East, a place so distant in the minds of most that even in my school the last row of desks in the classroom was jokingly referred to as “Kamchatka”. A self-admitted Russophile for years, she chose the starkly beautiful and importantly, remote and isolated region as a setting for her story. And you can tell she loves and respects the place.
In this remote and isolated region, two young girls are abducted by a stranger in a black car. A year later, the crime is still unsolved, and everyone believes the girls are dead. But this is not a mystery story or a thriller or anything that the premise may have you expect.
Instead this is a novel of interconnected vignettes showing the ripples of the event across the community of the remote and isolated peninsula, from the largest city Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky, home of more than half of the peninsula’s population, to the small villages where the native Even people live. One for each month of a year the girls are missing, each vignette shows us a moment in a life of several women, most of whom didn’t even know the missing girls. An eighth grader who learns a bit about everyday judgmental cruelty. A policeman’s wife trapped by new motherhood and struggling with exoticized desires. A young single mother, tired of mundane poverty, hoping to escape to an idea of a better life. A college student torn between the possessive man she’s with and a man who’s clearly a better fit for her. A discredited only witness of the crime losing the only creature she cares about. The mother of the missing girls unable to piece her life back together.
Through the quietness of mundane domestic issues, Julia Phillips tackles the very current themes of xenophobia, ethnic tensions, homophobia, misogyny, double standards. She addresses the small-town mentality and prejudices, the post-Soviet realities leading to generational gaps, the interconnectedness and resentment that both can stem from a life in isolated locales.
But it never becomes an “issues” book, instead focusing on the human experience, human lives, hopes and resilience. Phillips’ love for Kamchatka with its beautiful landscapes nd harsh surroundings shines through, making a wonderfully atmospheric setting.
Yet it took me a little while, a few of these vignette-type stories, to start appreciating this book. Somehow, despite intellectually liking it, I found it often a difficult task to feel the real connection, perhaps due to abrupt storyline and narration shifts which became less jarring once some of the earlier POV characters were glimpsed in subsequent stories, until the interconnectedness became more apparent. I still didn’t fully love it but came to be persuaded by its quiet voice and soft focus on the everyday mundane which forms the whole fabric of our lives.
And I came to appreciate the characters - the everyday girls and women, complex and flawed, combining the best and the worst qualities, sometimes admirable, sometimes infuriating, sometimes pitiful, but always very real. You know them - you may not always like them and probably often harshly judge them, and disagree with their choices and views - but you recognize them and *know* them.
It’s a decent first effort, well-done, with promising talent shining through.
3.5 stars rounding up.
She builds her book on real lived experience, having spent over a year living in Kamchatka - a remote peninsula hanging off Siberia in Russia’s far cold East, a place so distant in the minds of most that even in my school the last row of desks in the classroom was jokingly referred to as “Kamchatka”. A self-admitted Russophile for years, she chose the starkly beautiful and importantly, remote and isolated region as a setting for her story. And you can tell she loves and respects the place.
“Though Kamchatka was no longer a closed territory by law, the region was cut off from the rest of the world by geography. To the south, east, and west was only ocean. To the north, walling off the Russian mainland, were hundreds of kilometers of mountains and tundra. Impassable. Roads within Kamchatka were few and broken: some, to the lower and central villages, were made of dirt, washed out for most of the year; others, to the upper villages, only existed in winter, when they were pounded out of ice. No roads connected the peninsula to the rest of the continent. No one could come or go over land.”
In this remote and isolated region, two young girls are abducted by a stranger in a black car. A year later, the crime is still unsolved, and everyone believes the girls are dead. But this is not a mystery story or a thriller or anything that the premise may have you expect.
“Everyone looked better at a distance. Everyone sounded sweetest when you did not have to hear them talk too long. […] Loving someone close-up—that was difficult.”
Instead this is a novel of interconnected vignettes showing the ripples of the event across the community of the remote and isolated peninsula, from the largest city Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky, home of more than half of the peninsula’s population, to the small villages where the native Even people live. One for each month of a year the girls are missing, each vignette shows us a moment in a life of several women, most of whom didn’t even know the missing girls. An eighth grader who learns a bit about everyday judgmental cruelty. A policeman’s wife trapped by new motherhood and struggling with exoticized desires. A young single mother, tired of mundane poverty, hoping to escape to an idea of a better life. A college student torn between the possessive man she’s with and a man who’s clearly a better fit for her. A discredited only witness of the crime losing the only creature she cares about. The mother of the missing girls unable to piece her life back together.
“Missing children, Marina reminded herself, do not return.”
Through the quietness of mundane domestic issues, Julia Phillips tackles the very current themes of xenophobia, ethnic tensions, homophobia, misogyny, double standards. She addresses the small-town mentality and prejudices, the post-Soviet realities leading to generational gaps, the interconnectedness and resentment that both can stem from a life in isolated locales.
But it never becomes an “issues” book, instead focusing on the human experience, human lives, hopes and resilience. Phillips’ love for Kamchatka with its beautiful landscapes nd harsh surroundings shines through, making a wonderfully atmospheric setting.
Yet it took me a little while, a few of these vignette-type stories, to start appreciating this book. Somehow, despite intellectually liking it, I found it often a difficult task to feel the real connection, perhaps due to abrupt storyline and narration shifts which became less jarring once some of the earlier POV characters were glimpsed in subsequent stories, until the interconnectedness became more apparent. I still didn’t fully love it but came to be persuaded by its quiet voice and soft focus on the everyday mundane which forms the whole fabric of our lives.
And I came to appreciate the characters - the everyday girls and women, complex and flawed, combining the best and the worst qualities, sometimes admirable, sometimes infuriating, sometimes pitiful, but always very real. You know them - you may not always like them and probably often harshly judge them, and disagree with their choices and views - but you recognize them and *know* them.
It’s a decent first effort, well-done, with promising talent shining through.
3.5 stars rounding up.
July 11, 2020
there were many things that lead to me to believe i was going to love this, and i really wanted to. the cover, the title, the synopsis, and my love for russian culture all prepared me for a wonderful story. so its rather disappointing when expectations completely differ from reality.
in addition to this book ending up being different from what i thought it was going to be, i also wasnt a fan of the storytelling. this reads like a collection of seemingly unrelated short stories. i personally found there to be too many characters and the length too short for this kind of narrative to be effective. additionally, i became increasingly frustrated when none of the POVs seemed to be connected. it takes about 3/4 of the book before a previous character reemerges, which makes the story feel incohesive and plotless.
unfortunately, i am just not the kind of person who can appreciate this kind of story.
↠ 2 stars
in addition to this book ending up being different from what i thought it was going to be, i also wasnt a fan of the storytelling. this reads like a collection of seemingly unrelated short stories. i personally found there to be too many characters and the length too short for this kind of narrative to be effective. additionally, i became increasingly frustrated when none of the POVs seemed to be connected. it takes about 3/4 of the book before a previous character reemerges, which makes the story feel incohesive and plotless.
unfortunately, i am just not the kind of person who can appreciate this kind of story.
↠ 2 stars
January 29, 2019
Kamchatka. My only knowledge of Kamchatka was that it is the name of cheap vodka my friends and I drank during our salad days. We re-named it “coming atcha” when we became employed and could afford premium vodka. Actually, the Kamchatka peninsula is located in the far east of Russia and is isolated by water and mountains. Kamchatka is a land of extremes from tundra to volcanoes to verdant forests and the descriptions of the peninsula are jaw dropping. I'm not sure of the reason but I was startled that the indigenous people, the Evens, are treated with disdain by Caucasian Russians. More than likely this is the result of yet another knowledge gap. Anyway, it is in Kamchatka that two little girls go missing. Despite the premise, this is not a thriller. It reads almost like a series of interconnected short stories, that is, almost but not quite. The disappearance of these girls has a ripple effect throughout the community over the course of a year. Six degrees of separation, indeed. This is a staggering work of originality, insight and depth.
February 8, 2019
Two sisters ages eight and eleven go missing on the Kamchatka peninsula. Boy did I want to yell at my book "No, no, no, no, no!" during the first story. UGH! The police are quickly called to investigate but find nothing - no clues, no evidence, etc. They are missing without a trace.
This book spans the course of a year with each chapter being another month after the girls go missing. Each chapter is also about a new character. The characters have had their lives changed in some way due to the girl’s disappearance. Some being a witness, a detective, a customs officer, a student, a woman whose sister went missing, etc. The final chapter is the girl's mother. As the book suggests this book shows the lives of women (and those in their lives) who have been touched in some way due to the girl’s disappearance.
I found this to be a fast read. Due in part mainly to the fact that the chapters read like short stories and it was easy to go through them. While reading about the lives of those in the community, I had a nagging thought...what happened to those girls? I really enjoyed how the stories were connected even if only by a small thread. The connections are there. Plus, the writing was beautiful. Hats off to the Author for her unique and enjoyable story telling. I found myself enjoying each story/chapter a little bit more than the last.
Plus, the ending! That is all that I will say. Very enjoyable book which was very original and captivating. I have been getting annoyed lately with books that remind me of other books. Reading this was like a breath of fresh air. This could have been a mystery about two missing girls, but it became so much more. Everything comes together in a very seamless manner.
Thank you to the publisher and Edelweiss who provided me with a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. All the thoughts and opinions are my own.
This book spans the course of a year with each chapter being another month after the girls go missing. Each chapter is also about a new character. The characters have had their lives changed in some way due to the girl’s disappearance. Some being a witness, a detective, a customs officer, a student, a woman whose sister went missing, etc. The final chapter is the girl's mother. As the book suggests this book shows the lives of women (and those in their lives) who have been touched in some way due to the girl’s disappearance.
I found this to be a fast read. Due in part mainly to the fact that the chapters read like short stories and it was easy to go through them. While reading about the lives of those in the community, I had a nagging thought...what happened to those girls? I really enjoyed how the stories were connected even if only by a small thread. The connections are there. Plus, the writing was beautiful. Hats off to the Author for her unique and enjoyable story telling. I found myself enjoying each story/chapter a little bit more than the last.
Plus, the ending! That is all that I will say. Very enjoyable book which was very original and captivating. I have been getting annoyed lately with books that remind me of other books. Reading this was like a breath of fresh air. This could have been a mystery about two missing girls, but it became so much more. Everything comes together in a very seamless manner.
Thank you to the publisher and Edelweiss who provided me with a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. All the thoughts and opinions are my own.
Read
May 24, 2019DnF at 40% Wanted to like this but I'm just not connecting with the story. Two you g girls go missing. Each succeeding chapter covers a month since they are gone. Each chapter also introduces new characters, whose life has been marginally impacted by this tragedy. The problem is not only that I was bored, which I was, but that I wasn't taken by any of these characters, just didn't care about them.
April 15, 2020
This was an excellent novel about Kamchatka, an area in Siberia which many of us only know as a coveted piece of land in the game Risk. Julia Phillips takes us to the heart of a kidnapping of two young girls on this isolated peninsula and describes the aftermath in the various communities during the year afterwards. Filled will interesting characters, cultural tidbits (the author has apparently spent lots of time there on Fulbright grants and the like), and the writing is quite good. I truly enjoyed this book cover to cover and feel it is a strong contender for the 2020 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.
Each chapter in the book follows a different person whose life intersects that of the missing girls during one of the twelve months since the girls go missing. The great thing about this book is that the narrative holds together, the perspectives are all individualized and compelling, the writing is consistently good, and we are driven page after page in the quest of the fate of the girls. It is truly a great book.
Some quotes:
Diana was still pale blond and oval-faced, and her mouth was red, bright red, exciting like the lacquer of a new car, but she had a belt of acne across her cheeks. Her eyelashes had faded from startling white to transparency. In one minute she was lovely and in the next she was a ghost. (p .24)
Charred wood, rich sulfur, and cold earth: the smells of nostalgia. Her family had loved this place. After the USSR had collapsed, there were no longer any restrictions on travel, no stop to movement; the Soviet military bases that had constrained the entire peninsula were shuttered, so Kamchatka’s residents could finally explore their own land. Katya’s family had gone as far north as Esso to meet the natives with their reindeer herds, west to see unpatrolled lakes. She spent her youth in the brief reckless period between the Communist’s rigidity and Putin’s strength, and though she had grown into a boundary enforcer, inspecting imports and issuing citations, within herself there remained a post-Soviet child. Some part of her did crave the wild. (p.39)
Everyone looked better at a distance. Everyone sounded sweeter when you did not have to hear them talk too long. (p. 112)
Back to Esso. Because all the joy in Nadia’s life came from her daughter. The woman this child would one day be. Between the hard places in Nadia, some part, for Mila, was always open. A pipe thinned from pressure until the flood burst through. A chunk of dark stone worn down, broken off, washed free. (p. 174)
Oksana hurried back to the landing and down the flights of stairs - “Maylsh, Maylsh”,” she shouted. The stairway was cool blue, its concrete walls washed by spring light. Up on the fifth floor, the apartment was open for the dog’s return. Oksana was already at the building’s entrance. She was already bursting back into the world. (p. 191)
If only Malysh had jumped that day on the mountain. Oksana should have thrown the stick for the dog herself. In August, in the very first few hours of police questioning, the missing girls’ mother had come to the station to talk with to Oksana. Only now, months after that desperate conversation with her, did Oksana appreciate why. It hurst so much to break your own heart out of stupidity, to leave a door unlocked or a child untended and return to discover that whatever you value most has disappeared. No. You want to be intentional about the destruction. Be a witness. You want to watch how your life will shatter. (p. 203)
Surface tension, Marina reminded herself. The reflection and refraction of light through water. If this weather continued, she would run out of rain trivia. The raindrops made noises like a thousand parting lips.
“When you come to the first wire, throw the branch of your worries in and jump across.” Her voice, amplified carried no hint of irony. “Hold your wish tight as you go to the next fire. You will be walking between worlds.”
My List of 2020 Pulitzer Candidates: https://www.goodreads.com/list/show/1...
My blog post about 2020 Pulitzers: https://wp.me/phAoN-19m
Each chapter in the book follows a different person whose life intersects that of the missing girls during one of the twelve months since the girls go missing. The great thing about this book is that the narrative holds together, the perspectives are all individualized and compelling, the writing is consistently good, and we are driven page after page in the quest of the fate of the girls. It is truly a great book.
Some quotes:
Diana was still pale blond and oval-faced, and her mouth was red, bright red, exciting like the lacquer of a new car, but she had a belt of acne across her cheeks. Her eyelashes had faded from startling white to transparency. In one minute she was lovely and in the next she was a ghost. (p .24)
Charred wood, rich sulfur, and cold earth: the smells of nostalgia. Her family had loved this place. After the USSR had collapsed, there were no longer any restrictions on travel, no stop to movement; the Soviet military bases that had constrained the entire peninsula were shuttered, so Kamchatka’s residents could finally explore their own land. Katya’s family had gone as far north as Esso to meet the natives with their reindeer herds, west to see unpatrolled lakes. She spent her youth in the brief reckless period between the Communist’s rigidity and Putin’s strength, and though she had grown into a boundary enforcer, inspecting imports and issuing citations, within herself there remained a post-Soviet child. Some part of her did crave the wild. (p.39)
Everyone looked better at a distance. Everyone sounded sweeter when you did not have to hear them talk too long. (p. 112)
Back to Esso. Because all the joy in Nadia’s life came from her daughter. The woman this child would one day be. Between the hard places in Nadia, some part, for Mila, was always open. A pipe thinned from pressure until the flood burst through. A chunk of dark stone worn down, broken off, washed free. (p. 174)
Oksana hurried back to the landing and down the flights of stairs - “Maylsh, Maylsh”,” she shouted. The stairway was cool blue, its concrete walls washed by spring light. Up on the fifth floor, the apartment was open for the dog’s return. Oksana was already at the building’s entrance. She was already bursting back into the world. (p. 191)
If only Malysh had jumped that day on the mountain. Oksana should have thrown the stick for the dog herself. In August, in the very first few hours of police questioning, the missing girls’ mother had come to the station to talk with to Oksana. Only now, months after that desperate conversation with her, did Oksana appreciate why. It hurst so much to break your own heart out of stupidity, to leave a door unlocked or a child untended and return to discover that whatever you value most has disappeared. No. You want to be intentional about the destruction. Be a witness. You want to watch how your life will shatter. (p. 203)
Surface tension, Marina reminded herself. The reflection and refraction of light through water. If this weather continued, she would run out of rain trivia. The raindrops made noises like a thousand parting lips.
“When you come to the first wire, throw the branch of your worries in and jump across.” Her voice, amplified carried no hint of irony. “Hold your wish tight as you go to the next fire. You will be walking between worlds.”
My List of 2020 Pulitzer Candidates: https://www.goodreads.com/list/show/1...
My blog post about 2020 Pulitzers: https://wp.me/phAoN-19m
October 12, 2019
High concept, low return on reading investment.
I was eagerly anticipating this novel, placed it on our book club's roster, but what I found was a series of short stories very loosely connected to the disappearance of two little girls. I didn’t go into this believing it would be a thriller, on the contrary, I was hoping for something akin to Strout’s Anything is Possible where the interconnected stories built a complete picture. What I found instead were vignettes of lives orbiting the main event.
I can appreciate the structure and even the large cast of characters which seems a nod to Russian writers, especially Tolstoy (just try to keep the many characters in War and Peace straight), but construct is all I found and never quite felt connected. Maybe it was the surfeit of issues addressed, the year’s worth of plot points or the topographic descriptions to create atmosphere, but for me it was all too much and also not enough to immerse myself in the narrative.
I am clearly in the minority here except for those that started and abandoned, but cold and lonely as it may be on this outlier peninsula, I just can’t see my way to giving this more than two stars for lack of enjoyment.
I was eagerly anticipating this novel, placed it on our book club's roster, but what I found was a series of short stories very loosely connected to the disappearance of two little girls. I didn’t go into this believing it would be a thriller, on the contrary, I was hoping for something akin to Strout’s Anything is Possible where the interconnected stories built a complete picture. What I found instead were vignettes of lives orbiting the main event.
I can appreciate the structure and even the large cast of characters which seems a nod to Russian writers, especially Tolstoy (just try to keep the many characters in War and Peace straight), but construct is all I found and never quite felt connected. Maybe it was the surfeit of issues addressed, the year’s worth of plot points or the topographic descriptions to create atmosphere, but for me it was all too much and also not enough to immerse myself in the narrative.
I am clearly in the minority here except for those that started and abandoned, but cold and lonely as it may be on this outlier peninsula, I just can’t see my way to giving this more than two stars for lack of enjoyment.
June 30, 2019
“This could never have taken place in Soviet times,
Valentina Nikolaevna said”.
“You girls can’t imagine how safe it use to be. No foreigners. No outsiders. Opening the peninsula was the biggest mistake our authorities ever made”.
“Now we’re overrun with tourists, migraines. Natives. These criminals”.
“Olya should have kept her tongue behind her teeth. But she asked, ‘Weren’t the natives always here”.
“They use to stay in the villages where they belong”.
Ouch!
Two sisters were last seen -kidnapped- in Petropavlovski’s center - ( Kamchatka peninsula in the Far East area of Russia), which meant nothing in the city of 200,000 people and a peninsula 1200 km long.
Mothers like Valentina Nikolaevna, were panicked- fearful - afraid - for their own children. She no longer wanted her daughter, Diana to play with her best friend, Olya, any longer.
Valentina Nikolaevna felt Olga’s family was a bad influence. She was uncomfortable with their lack of structure and discipline.
Valentina was harsh and ruthless about Olya seeing her daughter outside of school. The 13 year old girls, best friends, were only allowed to see each other under supervision in class.
The tragedy of the missing sisters- Sophia & Alyona Golosovskaya, ages 8 and 11...brought stricter curfews, and many posters of the missing girls...
and a paranoid community.
The comparing, judging, and evaluating each other‘s families sabotaged friendships. Olya knew Diana’s mother, Valentina Nikolaevna hated her....for no reason..... “because they were brave enough to survive on their own”.
This novel interconnects many different stories with the large cast of characters.
There’s a full list of the characters, with their Russian names, at the beginning of the novel. I didn’t find it too difficult but I did flip to the beginning a few times to check with character belonged to which family.
What made it easy to keep my place...
was that each chapter is titled with ‘the month’ of the year. So when flipping back and forth - I just had to remember which month I was reading.
It begins in August- and ends the next year in July.
I also listened to the Audiobook- but I wouldn’t recommend it alone. I found this was a book I needed to read myself.... and not because the narrator for the audiobook wasn’t good it was just harder for me to experience the book.
There are some beautiful written sentences of Kamchatka region... while we wonder how the two missing sisters are. Are they alive? I never stopped wondering.
“In the sunset, the pebbles on the shore shifted their color from black and gray to honey. Amber. They were brightening. Soon the stones would glow, and the water in the day was going to turn pink and orange. Spectacular in the City center, where people feared to have their pretty daughters go”.
August, September, October,.... and so on ‘till July...we meet so many characters - while the author explores social economic conditions - crime- community’s bitterness - and the fall of the Soviet Union.
The storytelling is excellent ... yet I’m not sure this is a book I’d highly recommend.
Given all the different Russian names - and a few slow parts - I’m not ‘sure’
this book will have lasting power for me.
At the same time - my eyes have been opened to the
Kamchatka peninsula region, and some of its history.
For a debut- the author -Julia Phillips should definitely be applauded & personally satisfied.
I’d happily read her next book.
Valentina Nikolaevna said”.
“You girls can’t imagine how safe it use to be. No foreigners. No outsiders. Opening the peninsula was the biggest mistake our authorities ever made”.
“Now we’re overrun with tourists, migraines. Natives. These criminals”.
“Olya should have kept her tongue behind her teeth. But she asked, ‘Weren’t the natives always here”.
“They use to stay in the villages where they belong”.
Ouch!
Two sisters were last seen -kidnapped- in Petropavlovski’s center - ( Kamchatka peninsula in the Far East area of Russia), which meant nothing in the city of 200,000 people and a peninsula 1200 km long.
Mothers like Valentina Nikolaevna, were panicked- fearful - afraid - for their own children. She no longer wanted her daughter, Diana to play with her best friend, Olya, any longer.
Valentina Nikolaevna felt Olga’s family was a bad influence. She was uncomfortable with their lack of structure and discipline.
Valentina was harsh and ruthless about Olya seeing her daughter outside of school. The 13 year old girls, best friends, were only allowed to see each other under supervision in class.
The tragedy of the missing sisters- Sophia & Alyona Golosovskaya, ages 8 and 11...brought stricter curfews, and many posters of the missing girls...
and a paranoid community.
The comparing, judging, and evaluating each other‘s families sabotaged friendships. Olya knew Diana’s mother, Valentina Nikolaevna hated her....for no reason..... “because they were brave enough to survive on their own”.
This novel interconnects many different stories with the large cast of characters.
There’s a full list of the characters, with their Russian names, at the beginning of the novel. I didn’t find it too difficult but I did flip to the beginning a few times to check with character belonged to which family.
What made it easy to keep my place...
was that each chapter is titled with ‘the month’ of the year. So when flipping back and forth - I just had to remember which month I was reading.
It begins in August- and ends the next year in July.
I also listened to the Audiobook- but I wouldn’t recommend it alone. I found this was a book I needed to read myself.... and not because the narrator for the audiobook wasn’t good it was just harder for me to experience the book.
There are some beautiful written sentences of Kamchatka region... while we wonder how the two missing sisters are. Are they alive? I never stopped wondering.
“In the sunset, the pebbles on the shore shifted their color from black and gray to honey. Amber. They were brightening. Soon the stones would glow, and the water in the day was going to turn pink and orange. Spectacular in the City center, where people feared to have their pretty daughters go”.
August, September, October,.... and so on ‘till July...we meet so many characters - while the author explores social economic conditions - crime- community’s bitterness - and the fall of the Soviet Union.
The storytelling is excellent ... yet I’m not sure this is a book I’d highly recommend.
Given all the different Russian names - and a few slow parts - I’m not ‘sure’
this book will have lasting power for me.
At the same time - my eyes have been opened to the
Kamchatka peninsula region, and some of its history.
For a debut- the author -Julia Phillips should definitely be applauded & personally satisfied.
I’d happily read her next book.
May 10, 2021
This was a very different book. I did enjoy it. Nice to have a setting in a far off part of Russia. I do like to read about others cultures.
This was the story about people living on the fringe. Seeing from their eyes...their homeland, and the way that they exist...
Two children disappear...so devastating...you know their lives are in danger or they are no longer alive...
I’m glad to have read this book and to have received a better understanding of Russia...or at least a part of it...
The ending is quite surprising...
4 out of 5 stars
This was the story about people living on the fringe. Seeing from their eyes...their homeland, and the way that they exist...
Two children disappear...so devastating...you know their lives are in danger or they are no longer alive...
I’m glad to have read this book and to have received a better understanding of Russia...or at least a part of it...
The ending is quite surprising...
4 out of 5 stars
Shelved as 'dnf'
October 2, 2019I do wish people would read contemporary Russian literature instead of this Russia fanfic which doesn’t evoke Russia in any way. May I suggest Ludmila Petrushevskaya for example? Imagine if I tried to write a book about American soul after leaving in the USA for 2 years?
P.S. Herring again? Goodness, why?
P.S. Herring again? Goodness, why?
November 15, 2019
4.5 Stars
”The sameness of each day, each year, acted like the endless reopening of a cut, scarring those summers into her memory.”
Set in Russia’s Kamchatka Peninsula, home to the largest active volcano in the northern hemisphere, a practically untouched location by man that is home to an abundance of wildlife. Reindeer, brown bears, wolverines, sables, Siberian bighorn sheep, it is also home to the majority of the world’s population of Steller’s sea eagles. A pristine paradise for those who love being surrounded by nature, it is also a place with regions that continue to remain mostly hidden, unspoiled, from the world. A place where people, or bodies, might remain hidden.
It is here that two young girls, sisters, go missing. These sisters, Alyona and Sophia, have spent the day at the beach and are still naïve enough at 11 and 8 years old that they accept a ride home from a stranger, a man.
Through the eyes of the people of this town, the police, friends and neighbors, we learn a little about this town, about the people of this town, as well as their views on what they believe happened to Alyona and Sophia. For a while, the news holds their attention, and then life goes on.
In a style that is somewhat similar to Reservoir 13, this story unfolds through the eyes and thoughts of the people who live there. Slowly. Very, very slowly. This isn’t a fast-paced, heart-in-your-throat kind of story, it is heartbreaking, shared with compassion, and felt very real. A stunning debut novel.
Many thanks, once again, to the Public Library system, and the many Librarians that manage, organize and keep it running, for the loan of this book!
”The sameness of each day, each year, acted like the endless reopening of a cut, scarring those summers into her memory.”
Set in Russia’s Kamchatka Peninsula, home to the largest active volcano in the northern hemisphere, a practically untouched location by man that is home to an abundance of wildlife. Reindeer, brown bears, wolverines, sables, Siberian bighorn sheep, it is also home to the majority of the world’s population of Steller’s sea eagles. A pristine paradise for those who love being surrounded by nature, it is also a place with regions that continue to remain mostly hidden, unspoiled, from the world. A place where people, or bodies, might remain hidden.
It is here that two young girls, sisters, go missing. These sisters, Alyona and Sophia, have spent the day at the beach and are still naïve enough at 11 and 8 years old that they accept a ride home from a stranger, a man.
Through the eyes of the people of this town, the police, friends and neighbors, we learn a little about this town, about the people of this town, as well as their views on what they believe happened to Alyona and Sophia. For a while, the news holds their attention, and then life goes on.
In a style that is somewhat similar to Reservoir 13, this story unfolds through the eyes and thoughts of the people who live there. Slowly. Very, very slowly. This isn’t a fast-paced, heart-in-your-throat kind of story, it is heartbreaking, shared with compassion, and felt very real. A stunning debut novel.
Many thanks, once again, to the Public Library system, and the many Librarians that manage, organize and keep it running, for the loan of this book!
July 27, 2024
In Russia's Far East, the Kamchatka Peninsula knifes between the Sea of Okhotsk and the Pacific Ocean. It is a 1250km-long blade serrated by volcanic mountains, honed razor-sharp by unrelenting cold, empty tundras, bears, wolves, and a history of violent encounters between Kamchatka's indigenous people and mainland white Russians eager to plunder its vast natural resources.
Julia Phillips chooses this perilous landscape as the setting for her mesmerizing, fierce debut, Disappearing Earth. The story opens benignly enough, on a warm summer day at the edge of a bay in the territory's only metropolis, Petropavlovsk. Sisters Alyona and Sophia Golosovskaya, eleven and eight, are left alone to play while their mother writes feel-good propaganda for a post-Soviet state newspaper.
Then a man arrives in a polished black sedan and the little girls are vanished.
What follows is a kaleidoscopic literary thriller that tracks the year following the Golosovskaya sisters' disappearance, each chapter a shift of perspective of a Kamchatkan woman, reflecting the cultural complexities in this strange and treacherous place.
There is a character list and a map at the beginning of the book. I referred frequently to both as each chapter immersed me in a different aspect of Kamchatkan culture and geography, from Esso—the picturesque village base of the Even, a reindeer herding tribe—to Palana with its prison-like aura of Soviet architecture, to a bleak fishing village on the western coast. But it was the women, each with her individual drama, who held me fast. Their stories of isolation and determination as they chafe at the bonds of a society uncomfortable with its version of democracy are delivered with the tension of thin ice on a lake. The linked narratives spread in widening ripples away from the kidnapping of Alyona and Sophia Golosovskaya and then draw in again like a whirlpool, swirling the disparate lives into inevitable connections to reach an ending that left me weak with emotion for the characters and awe for the writer who created them.
Although centered around a crime, Phillips' novel is far too nuanced and layered to fit neatly into one literary classification. It is profoundly feminist in voice, character and theme. She writes of power — of power stolen from women by societal structures that render them expendable, of power reclaimed by women who will not be held down.
Julia Phillips' writing is exquisite, by turns fragile and furious, gorgeously detailed yet restrained. The plot is carefully intricate and thoughtful. You stop reading for clues and read simply to understand these lives as she presents them, until suddenly you are making connections, flipping back through pages, and smiling in appreciation of a plot twist that happened while you were looking the other way.
Two years ago, two British writers created the Staunch Book Prize which, according to the (currently defunct) website “will be awarded to the author of a novel in the thriller genre in which no woman is beaten, stalked, sexually exploited, raped or murdered.” The intent is laudable — to call out writing that exploits women through violence and to reward suspense that doesn't rely on the trope of woman as victim.
Unfortunately, the world we live in continues to rain violence down on women and girls. In this country, fifty women are murdered each month by intimate partners. In Russia, it's estimated that 38 women A DAY die from intimate partner terrorism. When women write the stories of women and girls who are abused, raped, murdered, disappeared, they are writing reality, even if those stories are fictionalized. In fact, it is fiction that often opens the public's eyes to the world around them and offers them a way to see, hear, and empathize with lives lived outside their own experience.
Julia Phillips has crafted both a fantastic mystery set in a nearly inaccessible, incomprehensible land, and a vital examination of violence against women, a condition that knows no borders.
It's early, I know, but I think this will come out in twelve months as one of my year's best reads.
Julia Phillips chooses this perilous landscape as the setting for her mesmerizing, fierce debut, Disappearing Earth. The story opens benignly enough, on a warm summer day at the edge of a bay in the territory's only metropolis, Petropavlovsk. Sisters Alyona and Sophia Golosovskaya, eleven and eight, are left alone to play while their mother writes feel-good propaganda for a post-Soviet state newspaper.
Then a man arrives in a polished black sedan and the little girls are vanished.
What follows is a kaleidoscopic literary thriller that tracks the year following the Golosovskaya sisters' disappearance, each chapter a shift of perspective of a Kamchatkan woman, reflecting the cultural complexities in this strange and treacherous place.
There is a character list and a map at the beginning of the book. I referred frequently to both as each chapter immersed me in a different aspect of Kamchatkan culture and geography, from Esso—the picturesque village base of the Even, a reindeer herding tribe—to Palana with its prison-like aura of Soviet architecture, to a bleak fishing village on the western coast. But it was the women, each with her individual drama, who held me fast. Their stories of isolation and determination as they chafe at the bonds of a society uncomfortable with its version of democracy are delivered with the tension of thin ice on a lake. The linked narratives spread in widening ripples away from the kidnapping of Alyona and Sophia Golosovskaya and then draw in again like a whirlpool, swirling the disparate lives into inevitable connections to reach an ending that left me weak with emotion for the characters and awe for the writer who created them.
Although centered around a crime, Phillips' novel is far too nuanced and layered to fit neatly into one literary classification. It is profoundly feminist in voice, character and theme. She writes of power — of power stolen from women by societal structures that render them expendable, of power reclaimed by women who will not be held down.
Julia Phillips' writing is exquisite, by turns fragile and furious, gorgeously detailed yet restrained. The plot is carefully intricate and thoughtful. You stop reading for clues and read simply to understand these lives as she presents them, until suddenly you are making connections, flipping back through pages, and smiling in appreciation of a plot twist that happened while you were looking the other way.
Two years ago, two British writers created the Staunch Book Prize which, according to the (currently defunct) website “will be awarded to the author of a novel in the thriller genre in which no woman is beaten, stalked, sexually exploited, raped or murdered.” The intent is laudable — to call out writing that exploits women through violence and to reward suspense that doesn't rely on the trope of woman as victim.
Unfortunately, the world we live in continues to rain violence down on women and girls. In this country, fifty women are murdered each month by intimate partners. In Russia, it's estimated that 38 women A DAY die from intimate partner terrorism. When women write the stories of women and girls who are abused, raped, murdered, disappeared, they are writing reality, even if those stories are fictionalized. In fact, it is fiction that often opens the public's eyes to the world around them and offers them a way to see, hear, and empathize with lives lived outside their own experience.
Julia Phillips has crafted both a fantastic mystery set in a nearly inaccessible, incomprehensible land, and a vital examination of violence against women, a condition that knows no borders.
It's early, I know, but I think this will come out in twelve months as one of my year's best reads.
January 11, 2021
3,5/5
Disappearing Earth in many respects, at least on the surface, reminded me Jon McGregor's Reservoir 13. Both novels start almost the same way, only in Julia Phillips' book two girls, sisters Alyona and Sofia, went missing. And at both titles initial situation is merely a ground for subsequent events. Both authors focused not on the mysterious disappearing, though we never lose it from sight, but took this as an opportunity to weave stories of place and people. In my estimation McGregor is more detailed and pays a lot more attention to changing seasons, weather, descriptions of nature world, clouds and colours of the sky and even the tiniest symptom of every day life. In his novel we witness several years after the girl's, her name is Becky, missing. Julie Phillips in her novel took only one year to introduce her protagonists and events, primarily from woman's point of view. You could read the novel as a collection of short stories as well. One month and one tale. Of lost illusions, unrealized chances, disappointment. Disappearing earth. Vanishing girls. Dying tradition. Broken ties. Past history.
The author managed jam in her novel quite a number of issues: racist attacs on economic immigrants, homophobic actions especially visible in smaller cities, disregard for ethnic minorities, she does give us a lot details on tribes living on the far north, their culture and life that goes unchangingly for years, but her main focus is on a small group of people, maybe not directly connected to missing girls, apart from their mother obviously, but in a way participating in searchings. The woman who allegedly saw a potential abductor, policeman conducting an investigation, school teacher, member of rescue team, mother of the other girl that vanished some years back to mention only few of them. Each family has own painful story that beggs to be told and all of them create mosaic of different fates. Youngsters feel attracted to big cities, the old seem to still mourn for bygone times under USSR leadership while autochtons are less at home than Russian citizens what one may see in approach to the investigation.
The novel seems pretty much embedded in post Soviet reality, reality when the Soviet union collapsed and what emerged afterwards not entirely met expectations of many its inhabitants. Bleakness and overwhelming sense of failure, lack of security or loss of integrity and unity are the feelings protagonists of Disappearing Earth experience on daily basis. It's set on the Kamchatka Peninsula, I enjoyed description of Petropavlovsk, the main city of the region, miserable and prospectless, though if not evocation of tundra, volcanos and geysers further on the north it could be almost every other city lost in economical and structural transformation. Don’t get me wrong, I do think Julia Phillips quite well handled it, as an outsider of course, but can’t get rid of an impression she’d rather stick to not that exotic for herself scenery. I’m rather of the opinion that it’s not enough to cast protagonists on alien background to evoke spirit of the place and living in there people.
April 16, 2023
I’m a huge fan of novels that are dominated by women’s issues. I also enjoy learning about other cultures and places in the world to which I have not traveled. Julia Phillip’s debut novel is set in the remote Kamchatka peninsula of Russia. The novel takes place in a year’s time, with chapters delineated by month and characters.
“Disappearing Earth” is almost a series of short stories with the common denominator that the protagonist in every chapter is a woman and the chapters are loosely woven together by one event that happens in the first chapter. On an August day, two young sisters are abducted after playing at the bay’s edge. Only one woman notices the girls go into a sparkling clean black car. She pays attention because it is rare to see such a gleamingly clean car. It’s the car that she notices, she just happens to see two young girls get in with a man. It is this abduction; the different ways people react to the abduction that is a common thread.
Thankfully Phillips supplies a list of characters and a map of the story. Because the story is in Russia, all the names are Russian and would be difficult to follow if not for the cast of characters.
The reader is treated to beautiful prose that describes not only the landscape, but the feelings of each character. As a bonus, the reader learns of the Russian culture, especially as it relates to that part of Russia. For example, if you sit on a cold surface you can become barren, Also, she includes the Russian New Year Holiday, which is bigger than Christmas, and the traditional holiday rental houses that contain sauna/steam rooms. We also get a glimpse at common meal foods. Natives of Russia are second-class citizens, and don’t even think about admitting you are gay. Being homosexual is a criminal offense and will land you in jail.
But back to the story. Each chapter tells a story of a woman. Phillips has stated in interviews that she wanted to explore violence in woman’s lives. The violence takes many forms, and some might beg to differ in her definition of violence, for example, one character loses two husbands tragically. One character has a controlling boyfriend. I would personally name it trauma, but we won’t quibble about semantics here. All the women featured face difficulties that suppress them.
So much is covered in this novel. Yes, it’s an abduction mystery, yet that is in the backdrop. The women’s issues play prominent. The cultural features and the scenery have characteristic aspects in the novel. This a beautifully written story that requires attention to details. Don’t plan to read this quickly as there is much to absorb.
“Disappearing Earth” is almost a series of short stories with the common denominator that the protagonist in every chapter is a woman and the chapters are loosely woven together by one event that happens in the first chapter. On an August day, two young sisters are abducted after playing at the bay’s edge. Only one woman notices the girls go into a sparkling clean black car. She pays attention because it is rare to see such a gleamingly clean car. It’s the car that she notices, she just happens to see two young girls get in with a man. It is this abduction; the different ways people react to the abduction that is a common thread.
Thankfully Phillips supplies a list of characters and a map of the story. Because the story is in Russia, all the names are Russian and would be difficult to follow if not for the cast of characters.
The reader is treated to beautiful prose that describes not only the landscape, but the feelings of each character. As a bonus, the reader learns of the Russian culture, especially as it relates to that part of Russia. For example, if you sit on a cold surface you can become barren, Also, she includes the Russian New Year Holiday, which is bigger than Christmas, and the traditional holiday rental houses that contain sauna/steam rooms. We also get a glimpse at common meal foods. Natives of Russia are second-class citizens, and don’t even think about admitting you are gay. Being homosexual is a criminal offense and will land you in jail.
But back to the story. Each chapter tells a story of a woman. Phillips has stated in interviews that she wanted to explore violence in woman’s lives. The violence takes many forms, and some might beg to differ in her definition of violence, for example, one character loses two husbands tragically. One character has a controlling boyfriend. I would personally name it trauma, but we won’t quibble about semantics here. All the women featured face difficulties that suppress them.
So much is covered in this novel. Yes, it’s an abduction mystery, yet that is in the backdrop. The women’s issues play prominent. The cultural features and the scenery have characteristic aspects in the novel. This a beautifully written story that requires attention to details. Don’t plan to read this quickly as there is much to absorb.
September 6, 2021
What an odd feeling, to have such a subdued book impact me in such a powerful way. There's still so much I don't understand, yet I feel like I just lived an emotionally exhausting week among the struggling, yet strong, Russian women of this novel.
Perhaps I'm so overwhelmed because the main character of Disappearing Earth was not a person, but rather an entire place and culture.
Kamchatka is a remote peninsula in the Russian Far East, about the size of California and not far from Alaska. I suggest investigating the history of this rugged area and its native peoples when picking up this novel. A little understanding up front might help you appreciate how the disappearance of a couple young girls could so fully impact an entire tundra region.
As well, the construction of this book is unique and difficult to embrace if you're not expecting it. It offers a month-by-month view into the lives of different women who live in Kamchatka. You are not supposed to find any connection between these women beyond where they live (not until the very end of the book, anyway). We see how each one survives everyday life, facing the savage weather, the bravado of the men, the racism against indigenous peoples by the mainland Russians who emigrated there, and the all-too-common financial struggles. It's a fascinating succession of short stories exposing the culture of this remote community, tied together by one event that rippled through and affected each of them in powerful ways.
I admit I don't know enough about the (pre-collapse) Soviet Union, but all the references to "before" that were made have me aching to find out more about the then and now of Russian culture. That's the kind of book I love most: one that makes me wonder and question, and inspires me to learn more.
Perhaps I'm so overwhelmed because the main character of Disappearing Earth was not a person, but rather an entire place and culture.
Kamchatka is a remote peninsula in the Russian Far East, about the size of California and not far from Alaska. I suggest investigating the history of this rugged area and its native peoples when picking up this novel. A little understanding up front might help you appreciate how the disappearance of a couple young girls could so fully impact an entire tundra region.
As well, the construction of this book is unique and difficult to embrace if you're not expecting it. It offers a month-by-month view into the lives of different women who live in Kamchatka. You are not supposed to find any connection between these women beyond where they live (not until the very end of the book, anyway). We see how each one survives everyday life, facing the savage weather, the bravado of the men, the racism against indigenous peoples by the mainland Russians who emigrated there, and the all-too-common financial struggles. It's a fascinating succession of short stories exposing the culture of this remote community, tied together by one event that rippled through and affected each of them in powerful ways.
I admit I don't know enough about the (pre-collapse) Soviet Union, but all the references to "before" that were made have me aching to find out more about the then and now of Russian culture. That's the kind of book I love most: one that makes me wonder and question, and inspires me to learn more.
February 15, 2020
This book wasn’t what I expected it to be. It had a gripping storyline that related to the kidnapping of two young girls in Russia. It was more like reading several short stories tied together by the kidnapping. Overall it was an interesting book but I wasn’t really Blown away by it. It left me wanting more.
August 12, 2019
The reason I added this book to my TBR list is because I love the cover. After cataloging it for my library, I left it sitting on my desk for a couple of hours just to admire the cover when my eyes needed a break from the computer. The colours are exquisite! I had to read the book, just because I fell in love with the cover. Thankfully I didn't waste my time on a book I hated. It paid to judge this book by its cover!
Set on a remote peninsula in Russia, the book opens with a chapter on two young girls, sisters. They are spending the day at the lake when a strange man injures his ankle and asks for their assistance getting back to his car. Yeh, you guessed it..... he abducts them.
Disappearing Earth isn't your usual detective/mystery book. Instead of focusing on the police investigation, each chapter is concerns a different person, in consecutive months following the abduction. It details each woman's specific life, what is going on in it and how the abduction touches upon her life personally.
The book is gorgeously written, with believable and well-developed characters. Normally I don't like books that have several POVs but it works for this novel. It works very well. Instead of finding myself disoriented with so many main characters, I felt like I got to know each of these women personally. I came to care about each one. I did get annoyed a few times when the book focused on some of their relationships with men. UGH! I get tired of reading about straight relationships -- no offense to straight people, it just gets to be a bit much when most novels are mainly about straight people, and I can't relate to woman-man relationships.
For that reason alone, with my interest waning during those parts, I'm giving this 4 stars instead of 5 and want to point this out because it's not a problem most people will have with this book. It is extremely well-written and grabbed my attention in the very first chapter - on the very first page! - immersing me in its world. And of course -- that cover!!
Set on a remote peninsula in Russia, the book opens with a chapter on two young girls, sisters. They are spending the day at the lake when a strange man injures his ankle and asks for their assistance getting back to his car. Yeh, you guessed it..... he abducts them.
Disappearing Earth isn't your usual detective/mystery book. Instead of focusing on the police investigation, each chapter is concerns a different person, in consecutive months following the abduction. It details each woman's specific life, what is going on in it and how the abduction touches upon her life personally.
The book is gorgeously written, with believable and well-developed characters. Normally I don't like books that have several POVs but it works for this novel. It works very well. Instead of finding myself disoriented with so many main characters, I felt like I got to know each of these women personally. I came to care about each one. I did get annoyed a few times when the book focused on some of their relationships with men. UGH! I get tired of reading about straight relationships -- no offense to straight people, it just gets to be a bit much when most novels are mainly about straight people, and I can't relate to woman-man relationships.
For that reason alone, with my interest waning during those parts, I'm giving this 4 stars instead of 5 and want to point this out because it's not a problem most people will have with this book. It is extremely well-written and grabbed my attention in the very first chapter - on the very first page! - immersing me in its world. And of course -- that cover!!
July 18, 2019
"Disappearing Earth" is an exquisitely beautiful and deeply haunting novel: a tale of two girls' abduction that is actually less about them or even the search for them than it is about the world from which they have vanished. And what a world it is: the Kamchatka peninsula in post-Soviet Russia. Julia Phillips is a terrific writer, with sentences that are lean and precise, and a soul that seems rich with empathy.
January 2, 2021
Disappearing Earth is a mystery around the kidnapping of two girls, but it’s primarily a book about connections: the ways in which one disappearance stands for something different to each, and the way in which the knowledge of said disappearance can connect people in different cities, from entirely different backgrounds.
The Russian peninsula of Kamchatka is, above all else, isolated. The region was isolated by military law from 1945 to 1990, and is surrounded on most sides by water, featuring only a slim border with Russia. With a population of 322,000, both ethnic Russian and Koryak, this region is a hotbed of social tensions. Each chapter of this mystery is a self-contained short story that adds something to the whole.
I felt as if, with all of these stories, I received such a strong view of different characters, such a clear picture of a whole intermingling environment. The story of Olya’s alienation from her schoolfriend over class conflict. The story of Kyusha, a student from Esso, as she navigates a relationship with her past and a relationship with her present. The chapter of Lada, as her old best friend, and maybe-lover, Masha comes back from St. Petersburg. Natasha, whose sister Lilia disappeared years past, as she associates with her conspiracy theorist brother and her sad mother. Revmira, as she reflects back on the tragic accident of her first husband.
It’s hard to explain exactly what I loved so much about this book. Maybe it was the intoxicating writing. Maybe the excellent character development. Maybe the growing feeling that no matter how this story ended, it would never be perfect for everyone.
And through each of these stories, the clues build bit by bit as to who did it. By the end, I was just figuring it out, but it's truly not about the solution: it is about the destination. The ending left me happy and sad, but with a kernel of hope that lingered for a long time.
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The Russian peninsula of Kamchatka is, above all else, isolated. The region was isolated by military law from 1945 to 1990, and is surrounded on most sides by water, featuring only a slim border with Russia. With a population of 322,000, both ethnic Russian and Koryak, this region is a hotbed of social tensions. Each chapter of this mystery is a self-contained short story that adds something to the whole.
I felt as if, with all of these stories, I received such a strong view of different characters, such a clear picture of a whole intermingling environment. The story of Olya’s alienation from her schoolfriend over class conflict. The story of Kyusha, a student from Esso, as she navigates a relationship with her past and a relationship with her present. The chapter of Lada, as her old best friend, and maybe-lover, Masha comes back from St. Petersburg. Natasha, whose sister Lilia disappeared years past, as she associates with her conspiracy theorist brother and her sad mother. Revmira, as she reflects back on the tragic accident of her first husband.
It’s hard to explain exactly what I loved so much about this book. Maybe it was the intoxicating writing. Maybe the excellent character development. Maybe the growing feeling that no matter how this story ended, it would never be perfect for everyone.
And through each of these stories, the clues build bit by bit as to who did it. By the end, I was just figuring it out, but it's truly not about the solution: it is about the destination. The ending left me happy and sad, but with a kernel of hope that lingered for a long time.
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September 10, 2019
Disappearing Earth transported me to a world that I barely knew existed, the Kamchatka Peninsula in Russia. The setting, like the painting on the cover, is vivid and memorable. The book is a series of snapshots of women loosely linked by geography, one for each month of the year after the disappearance of two young girls. I loved learning about life in Petropavlovsk and the Peninsula and flipped back and forth to the map constantly.
The blurb on my book calls it propulsive and suspenseful which is quite misleading. This is a slow moving book and feels much longer than 255 pages. It is not a thriller or a page turner. No matter - this wonderful book reminds me why I read.
The blurb on my book calls it propulsive and suspenseful which is quite misleading. This is a slow moving book and feels much longer than 255 pages. It is not a thriller or a page turner. No matter - this wonderful book reminds me why I read.
May 17, 2021
The ending of this novel left me gasping, not just for the story itself, but for the ability of this author to pull all the threads together so skillfully and in such beautiful language. For the reviewers who gave up on this because it seemed to be disconnected short stories, you have done yourselves a disservice. The Kamchatka peninsula and the indigenous village of Esso just to the north of the large city where two sisters are kidnapped are brought to life, as are the women in both places struggling with work and relationships and raising children. I found their stories enthralling and sometimes heartbreaking, and not much different from women's lives in the U.S. The girl's kidnapping and the news surrounding it runs through every story, until about 1/3 of the way through you begin to get a sense that you need to pay more attention, there's more here than meets the eye.
This is a first novel by an author to watch for in the future. Just incredible.
This is a first novel by an author to watch for in the future. Just incredible.
February 6, 2020
Julia Phillips' superbuzzy Disappearing Earth pulls a bait and switch, and then it pulls a bait and switch on the bait and switch, and its ending honestly outraged me. Like I read the ending and thought, distinctly in my head, "I'm outraged."
It opens on two little white girls getting abducted in Kamchatka, which is a remote area of Russia. It's like the Maine of Russia. Here's the first bait and switch: so you think it's going to be a thriller, right? A mystery! Where are the little girls?
or as I like to call it, Russia's Flaccid Penis
But it widens out immediately. The ensuing chapters are from the POVs of a procession of women, tied - mostly tangentially - to the case. A widow. A woman with cancer. A young woman in a controlling relationship. A stay-at-home mom who dreams of getting gangbanged by immigrant construction workers. Phillips is talking about a wide spectrum of violence against girls and women. A bear attacks a car with a woman sleeping in it. This is yet another in the long and storied tradition of First Novels That Are Really Just Interlinked Short Stories Because I'm Not Comfortable With Novels Yet, not by a long shot my favorite genre - but you get what she's up to, taking all these angles on the things that can happen to the bodies of women. Linking them all vaguely to the case gives you a bit of a throughline. Characters show up in each other's stories.
More stunning pictures of Kamchatka here
You feel quickly that the missing white girls are not really the point. Like most missing people, they'll probably never be found. They're probably already dead. Like Lilia, another missing girl whose case, because she's not white, was abandoned instantly.
An Even woman and her dog or whatever
Phillips wants to talk about the relative value of life. Lilia is Even, an ethnic group in Kamchatka. The little white girls are little white girls. We here in America know all about that too. We know how many headlines a missing white girl gets (thousands) and how many for a black girl (zero). What does Phillips gain by transplanting this story, with its deep resonance for Americans, to Kamchatka - a place so foreign that it might as well be mythical? Does she hope its foreignness will allow us a new perspective on this old problem? Is there a hint of exoticism here?
"it's a Maine book but I got a Fulbright, now what"
Phillips spent two years in Kamchatka on a Fulbright. She came back calling it "this enormous setting for a locked-room mystery," which seems like a lot of trouble to go to when Maine is right over there. And is that how she sees it? Is that how she sees this book? Just a big locked-room mystery? And now, that second bait and switch. Massive spoilers here: It's like someone took the beginning and ending of a shitty pulp thriller and snuck a decent book in between. To end a book with so many subtle and trenchant points on such a lurid note felt like a cop-out. It cheapened everything that came before it. It's icky. It's outrageous. I felt outraged. This book isn't that good.
It opens on two little white girls getting abducted in Kamchatka, which is a remote area of Russia. It's like the Maine of Russia. Here's the first bait and switch: so you think it's going to be a thriller, right? A mystery! Where are the little girls?
or as I like to call it, Russia's Flaccid Penis
But it widens out immediately. The ensuing chapters are from the POVs of a procession of women, tied - mostly tangentially - to the case. A widow. A woman with cancer. A young woman in a controlling relationship. A stay-at-home mom who dreams of getting gangbanged by immigrant construction workers. Phillips is talking about a wide spectrum of violence against girls and women. A bear attacks a car with a woman sleeping in it. This is yet another in the long and storied tradition of First Novels That Are Really Just Interlinked Short Stories Because I'm Not Comfortable With Novels Yet, not by a long shot my favorite genre - but you get what she's up to, taking all these angles on the things that can happen to the bodies of women. Linking them all vaguely to the case gives you a bit of a throughline. Characters show up in each other's stories.
More stunning pictures of Kamchatka here
You feel quickly that the missing white girls are not really the point. Like most missing people, they'll probably never be found. They're probably already dead. Like Lilia, another missing girl whose case, because she's not white, was abandoned instantly.
An Even woman and her dog or whatever
Phillips wants to talk about the relative value of life. Lilia is Even, an ethnic group in Kamchatka. The little white girls are little white girls. We here in America know all about that too. We know how many headlines a missing white girl gets (thousands) and how many for a black girl (zero). What does Phillips gain by transplanting this story, with its deep resonance for Americans, to Kamchatka - a place so foreign that it might as well be mythical? Does she hope its foreignness will allow us a new perspective on this old problem? Is there a hint of exoticism here?
"it's a Maine book but I got a Fulbright, now what"
Phillips spent two years in Kamchatka on a Fulbright. She came back calling it "this enormous setting for a locked-room mystery," which seems like a lot of trouble to go to when Maine is right over there. And is that how she sees it? Is that how she sees this book? Just a big locked-room mystery? And now, that second bait and switch. Massive spoilers here: It's like someone took the beginning and ending of a shitty pulp thriller and snuck a decent book in between. To end a book with so many subtle and trenchant points on such a lurid note felt like a cop-out. It cheapened everything that came before it. It's icky. It's outrageous. I felt outraged. This book isn't that good.
Read
May 23, 2019Putting to the side for now.
Huge cast of characters in each new chapter. I'm having a time focusing and getting easily distracted. May just be the timing for me. Just not wanting to pick it up, so will give it a pause.
November 13, 2022
A crisp, riveting novel on the ripples that tragedy and loss create throughout a community, and the vacuum of sorrow that resonates from one family to another. Discussing issues of xenophobia, womanhood, climate change, and the open ended cycles of grief, Disappearing Earth is a carefully crafted debut that showcases the struggles of a lessor known region of the world. Beautifully done.
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