A summary of "The Copper Box" by Dina Rubina Automatic translate

Published in 2015, this collection of short fiction draws on the intimate tones of travel writing. This book is a gallery of monologues from random fellow travelers, recounting the complex lives of individuals. The author constructs the narrative as a series of private stories heard on trains and planes, where personal tragedies are tightly intertwined with the historical realities of the twentieth century.

Family secrets and heirlooms

The title story opens the book with the story of Sonya, a high school student from a small town near Moscow. She ran away with a theater troupe after falling in love with an actor, and was then left alone with her young son. During the years of famine, Sonya was forced to give the child up for adoption to wealthy relatives, who imposed a cruel condition: never to approach the boy again. The heroine could only see her son from afar once a year. A small copper box remained as a memento of those times.

In her story about an antique medallion, the author addresses the theme of preserving memory through antique objects. Antique objects retain echoes of the biographies of people from the last century. Everyday objects become the only silent witnesses to bygone dramas, passing from hand to hand through the decades.

The story of gold paint transports the reader to a vast Munich beer hall. There, a chance encounter occurs with a boisterous local regular whose image embodies the typical traits of a German burgher. The dialogue in the bar reveals hidden historical traumas and cultural stereotypes that continue to live in the minds of people long after the war.

Memories of the past

The narrator recalls Poltava in bloom, the scent of lilacs and old chestnut trees. Under an old walnut tree in the courtyard stands a rickety table where the family used to gather. Warm childhood memories are interspersed with descriptions of the flights of May beetles. Everyday scenes of peaceful life contrast with the harsh trials befalling the older generation.

A theater prop artist shares his stories from the siege. The profession of creating puppets and theatrical props may seem frivolous, but it was precisely this that helped the hero survive. Behind the funny faces and fairytale masks lie terrible memories of hunger, cold, and loss in besieged Leningrad. Art served as a thin thread connecting the exhausted people to normal life.

Sculptor Jerzy Terlecki, a Polish Jew, fled the Nazis in 1939. With the help of a Soviet diplomat, he was able to regain Polish citizenship. The artist’s life is marked by hardship and attempts to preserve his legacy. His works reflect the difficult experiences of a generation forced to seek refuge far from their homeland.

Urban sketches and travels

Topolev Lane in Moscow’s Meshchansky Streets district has long been demolished. Once upon a time, it was home to low-rise buildings with front gardens, dahlias, and tall poplars. The author nostalgically recreates the atmosphere of this vanished urban space, where several generations of Muscovites lived their measured lives. The destruction of old streets erases the physical traces of the past, leaving them only in the memories of long-time residents.

A girl runs away from a prestigious pioneer camp located in the Chimgan foothills near Gazalkent. The institutionalized environment and strict rules push the child to take a desperate step. The journey home becomes the first serious test of character, an attempt to assert her independence from the imposed rules.

The action shifts to the outskirts of Ashgabat, to a bleak concrete building housing a research institute. The windows overlook tram tracks, causing the furniture in the rooms to constantly shake from the rumble of the trams. In this oppressive setting, the tragedy of a lonely man driven to suicide unfolds. The grim industrial setting underscores the hopelessness of the situation.

Meetings abroad

In the Israeli city of Netanya, the narrator watches the actress Renata perform. Peering through a hole cut in the plywood wall of her dressing room, she assesses the skill of her fellow performer. Behind the scenes of theatrical life, professional jealousy, fatigue, and genuine admiration for talent lurk.

Jerusalem appears through the lens of observing packs of cats on the streets. Moses ben Jacob said, "From earthly Jerusalem to heavenly Jerusalem is no more than 18 miles." The city is divided into numerous religious communities, each with its own strict rules. Christian, Jewish, and Armenian holy sites coexist with bustling markets and narrow streets. Ancient texts of the Torah and Talmud come to life in the everyday conversations of local residents.

A trip to the Greek island of Crete concludes the narrative. In Elafonisi, the water off the shore shimmers like a transparent, sunny net, receding into the blinding blue of the Aegean Sea at the horizon. On the terrace of a tavern, the narrator dines in the company of stray cats and a red dog. As she pays the bill, she finds a fifty-cent coin in her purse with the word "LEPTA" written in Russian letters. This small detail evokes a profound connection with the Mediterranean cradle of humanity.