THE GENIUS UNDER THE TABLE

Eugene Yelchin is the co-author and illustrator of the 2018 National Book Award Finalist The Assassination of Brangwain Spurge, co-written with M. T. Anderson. A Tomie dePaola Illustrator Award Winner, he also received a Newbery Honor for his novel Breaking Stalin’s Nose. Born in Leningrad, Russian-American Eugene Yelchin now lives in Topanga, California, with his family.

“In this frank, engaging memoir, Yelchin (Spy Runner) recounts his childhood in the U.S.S.R. as his boyhood self, Yevgeny, perceives and ponders it. . . . At once comical and disquieting, the book is an illuminating introduction to a young life in the former Soviet Union.”-Publishers Weekly (starred review)

“The self-effacing narrative seamlessly blends in Cold War history, Soviet politics, and loving family interchanges, and Yelchin’s sly illustrations appear on almost every page. There’s not a lot of material about this time period, and this humorous, informative, and engaging memoir will keep readers entertained.”–Booklist (starred review)

“Yelchin has created an unforgettable portrayal of one family’s experiences living in the Soviet Union during the Cold War in his ingenious memoir. . . . Recommended for those who love captivating memoirs mixed with humor.”–School Library Journal (starred review)

“I read Eugene Yelchin’s sad, funny memoir with tears and laughter. It is told with such exquisite humor and illustrated with such wonderful, biting drawings that, in spite of its darkness, I savored every word and every picture. A treat.”-Uri Shulevitz, winner of the Caldecott Medal and three Caldecott Honors

“Eugene Yelchin’s new memoir, The Genius Under the Table, is an extraordinary work of memory told with clear-sightedness and ironic good humor, both disguising a great deal of pathos. This book is a recipe for survival for us all in a world growing tougher by the day.”-David Small, Caldecott Medal winner and National Book Award Finalist for Stitches

1.  The Genius Under the Table is an intriguing title. What did you think the book would be about?

2. Did you know the term Iron Curtain before you read this book? It is not a physical barrier but an imaginary line, the political and military barrier between the Soviet Union and other countries that existed from 1945 to 1990. It served to keep people in the country and information out of it. What did you learn about life behind the Iron Curtain from this book?

3. This is is a fictionalized memoir; in other words, it is about the young Eugene (Yevgeny) Yelchin’s life, but it is not a strict account. What do you think he omitted? Is there anything you would like to know more about?

4. Opposite the title page are pictures of the people in Yevgeny’s family set up like a photo album: Mom, Dad, Grandma, Grandpa, brother Victor, and Yevgeny himself. But the grandpa picture has had the face cut out. Why would someone have done that?

5. What does Yevgeny think about Americans and America? From where does he get his impressions? Do you think they are accurate?

6. Children are generally very curious, and Yevgeny is no exception, but his parents tell him that asking questions is considered not patriotic. What do they mean by that? How do you think he feels when he is told that?

7. It is hard for most of us to imagine living like Yevgeny did when he was a child. Not only did he have to share a single room with his mother, father, grandmother, and brother, but worse, there was a spy who lived in the next room who reported to the KGB (Soviet secret police) anything he heard or saw that might be against the government. What do you think you would do to remain safe in these circumstances?

8. On page 95, Yevgeny’s father says, “You can never be a great poet, Yevgeny, if you’re afraid to tell the truth. But truth is a dangerous thing. Most people don’t like it.” What do you think he means by this?

9. When Yevgeny goes to the public bath with his father, he meets a man who has a tattoo of Stalin on his chest. According to this man, Stalin was a great man who was poisoned by “yid doctors.” He asks Yevgeny if he is Jewish, and Yevgeny, thinking of all the anti-Semitic sentiment currently in Russia and worrying about his safety, says no (pages 99–100). Were you surprised at his answer? What do you think you would have done in his place?

10. Yevgeny mixes up the words defect and defecate, which results in hilarious statements like this one to his mother: “When I was a little kid, I was always afraid that you might defecate” (page 116). Can you think of any words that you mixed up when you were little? Before reading this book, were you familiar with the word defect, meaning to leave a country for another one?

11. After Yevgeny’s artistic talent is discovered, his mother gives him a present—blue jeans that belonged to ballet star Mikhail Baryshnikov. What does that gift mean to the various family members?

12. When Yevgeny and his mother are on the way to his art teacher’s house for the first time, his mother tells him about the artistic accomplishments of the Bruni family. She reminds him of a painting that he had seen in the Russian Museum, The Brazen Serpent, a painting that had given him nightmares. Have you ever seen a painting, or a picture of a painting, that left a huge impression on you? If yes, what was it, and why did it affect you?

13. Tatiana Georgievna did not teach art in a traditional manner. She allowed Yevgeny to take any of her art books o the shelf and copy whatever paintings interested him. When he first took down a book, she would tell him a little about the artist, and then after he had created his copy, she would explain techniques to improve his work. What do you think of this method? Would you want to learn this way?

14. In chapter 39 (pages 157–160), Yevgeny explains that he has realized that there are three kinds of Russian artists: those who defect so they can continue painting the way they want; those who stay and continue to paint the way they want, but may be arrested or even killed; and those who stay and learn to paint by the rules. Whichever way artists choose, they have a lot to lose: their country, their freedom or possibly their life, or meaningful art. Which path do you think you would choose?

15. We know how much Yevgeny’s father loved poetry, so it is not a surprise that he wanted to acquire a new book by the famous poet Osip Mandelstam. What is a surprise is that he was so excited he ran o without his coat, hat, scarf, and gloves in the middle of a snowstorm to stand in line all night to get a copy of the book. Can you imagine wanting something so much that you would be willing to do this? Are you passionate about anything the way Yevgeny’s father was?

THE FIRST TIME I saw real American tourists, they hopped out of a tourist bus in out of a tourist bus in Red Square in Moscow and cut in front of us in line.

“Nice manners!” my mother shouted. “We’ve been freezing our butts off for hours and they just breeze in like that?”

We were in line to the mausoleum where the founder of our country, Vladimir I. Lenin, was laid out embalmed like an Egyptian mummy. To see him, you had to wait your turn.

Making noise near Lenin’s mausoleum was forbidden, but the Americans laughed and spoke in loud voices. The Americans and my mother were breaking the rules.

Everyone in line was staring at my mom for shouting, but I was staring at the Americans. The Americans’ clothes were in vibrant colors I did not know existed. They did not fit in Red Square at all. The square may be called Red, but it is black and white in the winter. Most citizens in line were also dressed in black and white. Other colors were brown, army green, navy blue, and the red of our country’s banner, flapping above the mausoleum.

Those were the colors of the soviet rainbow.

My family had come to Moscow to watch my older brother, Victor, compete in a figure-skating competition, but Dad said that it was our patriotic duty to see Lenin’s mummy first. No one in the long line was allowed to complain. Except for my mother, of course.

“What are you complaining about, citizen?” the security guard whispered to Mom.

He looked nervous that she was making a scene in the most sacred place in our country.

“Complaining?” my mother shouted. “You didn’t hear me complaining yet, young man! I demand to know your name and rank! Write it down, Victor. Who’s in charge around here?”

At last the line began to move, and Mom, having let off a little steam, became perfectly calm. She took my hand and we stepped into the mausoleum by the rule, in silence.