Thanks to Academic Studies Press Central Asian Literatures in Translation Series, Akram Aylisi's remarkable novella Stone Dreams has been published with a new foreword by Thomas De Waal. Stone Dreams was published previously in the same series as a section of Farewell Aylis: A Non-Traditional Novel in Three Parts, but stands up well on its own as a more fluid introduction to Aylisi's work.
The story behind this novella is as compelling as the work itself. Aylisi originally wrote Stone Dreams in Azerbaijani and translated it into Russian himself for publication in the journal Druzhba narodov in 2012, after which it was swiftly banned in Azerbaijan. Once the national writer of Azerbaijan, Aylisi was stripped of his awards and placed under house arrest in Baku, where he remains today. In his condemnation of both Azerbaijani and Armenian nationalism and violence, he is a rare advocate for dialog and reconciliation and a strong moral voice.
Aylisi is more than a courageous figure, however; he is a masterful writer whose works transcend their Azerbaijani context. Stone Dreams takes on the corrosive forces of power, corruption, and propaganda while meditating on the destructive power of hate. Set in 1989, the novella centers on Sadai Sadygly, a man who refuses to give in to blind nationalism as street violence against Armenians engulfs Baku. Lying in a coma after being attacked for defending an elderly man from a violent mob, Sadygly journeys in memory and vision through his childhood village Aylis, reliving both its beautiful and horrifying histories. Meanwhile other characters hover around him in the hospital, adding their perspectives to the disturbing conversations inspired by the unconscious body lying before them.
Katherine E. Young's translation adroitly follows the stylistic twists and turns of the novel, which can move from satire to lyricism to horror within a few lines. The thick irony can strike a cartoonish note, as with the character Nuvarish Karabakhly, a “small, fidgety man of fifty-five to sixty whose small face was not at all in harmony with his enormous, round belly” (2), and his thuggish nemesis who has turned the corner apartment into a brothel after throwing their Armenian neighbor out of the window. The black humor turns sinister when Karabakhly dreams of his neighbor's bloody undead corpse, and is all the more jarring when the comic actor cannot be taken seriously and meets a similar end.
Contrasted to the chaotic atmosphere of Baku, Sadygly's inner narrative is lyrical and serious as he finds himself in the village of Aylis. Returning to the ruins of stone churches, to the “yellow-rose light” (63) that falls on a cupola, and to the slaughter of a tiny, beautiful fox cub, Sadygly relives his childhood in a community with a troubled past of anti-Armenian violence. His Aylis is peopled with villagers, some compassionate and wise, some brutal and insane, all affected by their shared traumatic history. Longing to return to a time when Azerbaijanis and Armenians lived in harmony, Sadygly follows his visions, searching for redemption.
In counterpoint to Sadygly's journey, other voices express alternate perspectives. Dr. Farzani, who has recently moved to Baku from Moscow, is a concerned outsider whose own broken family mirrors the social conflict. Sadygly's pragmatic wife Azada khanum, worried that her husband is on the “verge of madness,” reminds him “you've also been in those places from which Armenians drove out thousands of unfortunate Azerbaijanis. . . . . . Why don't you think about that, my dear?” (72) [Italics in the original]. But it is Azada's father Dr. Abasaliev who delivers the most thought-provoking line of the book: “what today's Armenians are like is besides the point—the point is what we're like now” (38). As a meditation on the psychological toll of war, even on the victors, Stone Dreams speaks as a novel of our time.
Framed by De Waal's insightful forward, which introduces the author's life and the novella's historical contexts, Stone Dreams is an important work of contemporary fiction. I recommend this book to everyone—Azerbaijani literature is so little known, and Aylisi's work is a compelling introduction. Ideal for the university, Stone Dreams would be excellent in post-Soviet studies or a Russian literature course decolonizing its curriculum. And although the ending is not cheerful, the hope for a better future is palpable—it is the hope embedded in Sadygly's quest, and in Akram Aylisi's courage in writing and publishing this work.
