Gary Shteyngart - The Russian Debutante's Handbook

Downtown Cleveland. Its three major skyscrapers standing above the cosmopolitan wreckage of factories aching to be nightclubs and chain restaurants; the squat miniskyscrapers that look as if they have been cut short in their prime; the hopeful grandeur of municipal buildings built at a time when the transport of hogs and heifers promised the city a commercial elegance that had expired along with the animals… But, somehow, this city has persevered against the unkind seasons and the storms that gather speed over Lake Erie. Somehow, Cleveland has survived, with her gray banner unfurled—the banner of Archangelsk and Detroit, of Kharkov and Liverpool—the banner of men and women who would settle the most ignominious parts of the earth, and there, with the hubris born neither of faith nor ideology but biology and longing, bring into the world their whimpering replacements.

Yeah, good old Cleveland. And who is Vladimir if not its captain? His office is at the top of a skyscraper that surveys the entire domain, land and sea, suburb and metropolis. And there, under the ornery direction of Morgan’s father, accountant Vladimir will shepherd the financial futures of so many small businesses throughout the Ohio Valley.

Until, that is, the inevitable happens. At least once a week. Usually after a dressing-down from some clean-cut superior with his flat Midwestern vowels and army haircut. Vladimir locks his office door, closes his eyes, and dreams of… A scheme! A provocation! Pyramids! Turbo props! The Frankfurt exchange! The old Girshkin something for nothing! What did Mother say? We’re stronger than these people. Just take what you want…

But he can’t. It’s all gone, that youthful instinct. This is America, where the morning paper lands on the doorstep at precisely 7:30 A.M.—not the woolly dominion Vladimir once ruled.

So he’ll open his eyes and unlock the door. He’ll put in his ten-hour workday. He’ll chat up the secretarial pool and use his spare minutes to ascertain the standing of the local sports teams in the back pages of the Plain Dealer, statistics necessary for the firm’s bizarre afterwork buddy rituals. (Vladimir is, as has been mentioned, partnership-track material.)

And then, finally, the day will be replayed backward and he will return to Morgan… to the tiny trickle of breath issuing from her mouth, to the ears flush with warmth as if burning coals are concealed within, to her pregnant body embracing him in the night with the concern of a pending mother.

And what of this child?

Will he live the way his father once did: foolishly, imperially, ecstatically?…

No, thinks Vladimir. For he can see the child now. A boy. Growing up adrift in a private world of electronic goblins and quiet sexual urges. Properly insulated from the elements by stucco and storm windows. Serious and a bit dull, but beset by no illness, free of the fear and madness of Vladimir’s Eastern lands. In cahoots with his mother. A partial stranger to his father.

An American in America. That’s Vladimir Girshkin’s son.

To Chang-rae Lee, with warmth and appreciation, for launching me into the world of letters. To Diane Vreuls, for the earliest encouragement. To John Saffron, of Haimosaurus University, for endless patience and for cracking the whip. To Denise Shannon of ICM, for superior representation and advice. To Cindy Spiegel, for invaluable editorial guidance and a keen understanding of the immigrant’s experience. To Millys Lee, for everything.

GARY SHTEYNGART was born in Leningrad in 1972, and came to the United States seven years later. His novel, The Russian Debutante’s Handbook, won the Stephen Crane Award for First Fiction, was named a New York Times Notable Book, and was chosen as a best book of the year by the Washington Post Book World and Entertainment Weekly . His work has appeared in the New Yorker, Granta and many other publications. He lives in New York City.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

THE RUSSIAN DEBUTANTE’S HANDBOOK

A Riverhead Book / published by arrangement with the author

All rights reserved.

Copyright © 2002 by Gary Shteyngart

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Electronic edition: September, 2003