Good Life Anywhere?

Warning: The Good Life Elsewhere by Vladimir Lorchenkov may not be for the faint of heart!  While the narrative incorporates a fascinating setting and a group of Moldovan people that many readers (who read books written in American English) may not be so familiar with, the non-linear continuation of the story and the dark humor that consistently pops up throughout the situations of each character are difficult to grasp yet intriguing to read at the same time.

Personally, I found the constant change of characters and stories in each chapter rather disorienting at times. While this may largely depend on the reader’s preference as well as his/her personal experiences and familiarity with non-linear writing, the stories of various characters were not easy to follow since the story does not follow a chronological order. This was the case especially for me because I am not used to reading a narrative like this. It felt like there were breaks and intermissions between chapters. In addition to struggling to keep up with the overall plot, this jumping of characters and their experiences could detract from building strong characterization. For instance, whether it’s in a movie or a novel, I tend to connect with my characters with the consistency of how they are portrayed in the work. However, that was a bit difficult to do. Still, the descriptions involved in each of the characters helped to overcome that lack of stability in characterization.

Moreover, this non-linear form is not completely untrue in how it reflects the way life actually is for many of us. In a way, the author’s choice to use a non-linear timeline to portray this story of migration seems almost too realistic. We all know that life, much less life in movement, gives us one thing at a time. Sometimes we juggle with numerous obligations and tasks; rarely, do things happen, or do we meet people in some kind of expected, orderly fashion. Similar to real life, The Good Life Elsewhere has an unsettling mood, which is palpable for the reader as he/she tries to figure out who is doing what in each chapter. This mood definitely adds to this migration narrative.

This unsettling mood produced by the constant change is further enhanced by the dark humor that Lorchenkov sporadically uses throughout the novel. Even though it took me a while to figure out that the author was exaggerating and poking fun at certain points of his story, the dark humor really stresses the absurdity of the things these characters go through. For example, chapter two, which ends with Maria’s suicide, stands out to me as one of those moments. I was shocked at how Lorchenkov chose to describe this scene. Lorchenkov uses details like Maria swinging “on the acacia all through the following week” (19). In this particular moment, while Lorchenkov expresses the hopelessness that Maria feels as she realizes she would never be able to go to Italy, he creates this dark situation to be absurd through the interactions between Maria and her husband, Vasily. Maria announces her plan to take her life, but Vasily responds indifferently, only showing concern for the tree she plans on hanging from. Probably up until this moment in the book (and perhaps pretty early on in the story), I understood the events of the characters in a more literal way. However, the way Lorchenkov describes Maria’s suicide had me thinking about the extremities and the hardships many migrant peoples go through to relocate to a place that they have only dreamed of. 

This kind of despair wrapped in a chilling, nonchalant ridiculousness is not something only applicable to these Moldovan people. While reading the novel, I was often reminded of North Korean defectors. I thought of why this may be so. The honest answer I could come up with was the fact that most North Koreans often have this same wishful thinking as the characters in The Good Life Elsewhere. Similar to our characters, North Koreans hope for a better life in a different place. They have an “anywhere but here” mentality. Many choose to defect from their motherland in hopes to gain freedom, have an education, make money, and just attain the basic necessities of life. Many have a fantasy of this land they have never visited and believe they could be so much happier in this imaginary new home. Once they arrive in China or if they are lucky in South Korea, most North Korean defectors face discrimination because of their pasts, which is difficult to hide due to their accents and mannerisms. Many North Koreans struggle to adapt to their new lives. This makes us think: how prevalent is this wishful thinking to go to a different country to start a new life only to be jaded? Is a good life elsewhere possible or is it just all in our imagination?

All in all, Lorchenkov combines various techniques to engage his readers in a thought-provoking way; he makes us rethink migration narratives through his non-linear writing and absurd mood. Lorchenkov is successful in having his readers connect with the complicated feelings experienced by migrant peoples: the helplessness in their various livelihoods and relentless hope for a better place. 

Towards the end of the novel, the protagonist, Serafim declares that “everything will change” once they make it to the “fairytale land” of Italy (164). However, it is quite clear that this may not be so. How can a person fully let go and erase his/her history of who he/she is and what he/she has been through? Perhaps, Lorchenkov wanted to portray that this might not even be possible as memories and histories of people cannot just suddenly all disappear whether or not they are in search of a paradise that only exists in their minds. But, at the same time, maybe it is this ridiculous hope that allows these people to find a will to continue to live their lives and a desire for a better future.