Birds Fall Down [Paperback]

A harrowing train journey set against an exotic background of spies and intrigue, a beautiful and accomplished heroine, dramatic surprises and distinguished and extraordinary characters; this book has it all. The main plot revolves about the political complexities developing in Europe and Russia around 1901, and while the action takes place chiefly in France, the main protagonist, Laura, is a well-born Englishwoman still too young to have been presented at court. From her British father she inherits down-to-earth commonsense, and from her Russian mother an instinctive love of Russia and sympathy with the Russian soul. Whenever we are in danger of being carried away by extravagant idealism and lofty speculation, Laura jumps in and effectively pricks the bubble.

Laura takes the train to Paris with her mother Tania, to visit her wealthy grandparents, exiled from St. Petersburg two years previously as a result of high political manoeuvres. Her sick grandmother needs urgent medical attention and Tania is very worried. Laura and the aging count, whose physical and spiritual size dwarfs that of any ordinary mortal, are packed off by train to stay with an American great-aunt somewhere on the coast. Kamensky, the count's devoted right-hand man, is at the last moment prevented from joining them by a trivial incident.

Soon after the train gets under way the carriage is invaded by an aristocratic but scruffy Russian who subjects the count and Laura to a long and involved narrative. He claims that the Tsar is scheming to lure Count Diakonov back to Russia for a mock trial, after which he will be left to languish and die in prison. He has been betrayed by trusted members within his household. Finally convinced, the count insists on leaving the train, has a heart attack on the station platform and dies later in a nearby hotel where he is installed in the state bedroom. Though fussed over by various well-meaning local dignitaries, Laura is fearful and very much alone.

Re-enter (a) Kamensky and (b) Laura's father, roused at the last moment from the House of Commons. We return on the train to Paris and further events take their exciting course.

One of the many interesting things about this book is that it came out in 1966, when Rebecca West was in her 70s, at the culmination of a long career, which suggests that she worked on it and had it in mind for a large part of her life. Her involvement with, and love for, Russian culture, history, and religion are readily apparent. The book is built around three great monologues: Chubinov's revelations in the train, the count's sublime meditations on his deathbed, and Kamensky's apology. While appreciating her grandfather's loyalty and devotion to the Tsar, his heroism as a solder, his wisdom as an administrator, his deep and all-embracing faith, his difficulty in discovering at the end any serious cause for self-reproach, Laura is under no illusions. How can he not see that he's done exactly as he pleased all his life?

In the brief Forward that prefaces her 1966 book, "The Birds Fall Down", Rebecca West informs us that her novel is "founded on a historical event: perhaps the most momentous conversation ever to take place on a moving railway train." This provocative set-up prepares the reader for what should be a rollicking ride through those heady, early days of the Russian Revolution. After all, many are familiar with the excitement associated with trains that popular fiction has visited upon us over the last century and a half: robberies, murders, smuggling, romantic encounters and the like. With this dramatic image in mind, "Dame Rebecca" proceeds to saddle the reader with 400 plus pages of Victorian mannered parlor games - replete with endless detailed descriptions of each ornate parlor room where these games take place.

As a work of historical fiction, the book falls far short. Dates and names of historical figures (save for a brief but non-contextual reference to V. I. Lenin) are absent. While a passing remark in the aforementioned forward appears to situate the story at the turn of the twentieth century (presumably 1900), little else serves to locate the narrative within a specific frame of time. Although casual references to policies carried out by "The Tsar" are mentioned, Nicholas II is never identified by name - nor is any other political leader for that matter. To be fair, this recurring vagueness may be intentional. The story is seen through the eyes of 18 year old Laura Rowan, a stunning beauty whose father is a British MP (who may or may not be involved in an extra-marital affair) and whose mother is the daughter of an old Russian noble (Laura's revered grandfather) now living in Parisian exile due to false aspersions having been cast against him. Ensconced in a world of Victorian wealth, young Laura perceives revolutionary realities, political intrigues and corrupt officials as incomprehensible or (if indeed they do exist) devoid of sanity. Hence the parlor room atmosphere within which the reader must slog through in order to comprehend the meta-narrative taking place.

But what of that momentous train conversation which West claims her novel to be a depiction? In my now out of print hardbound copy, that conversation begins on page 91 and concludes on page 195. What do we learn in those hundred-odd pages? Interspersed amongst a long-winded banter extolling the pros and cons of monarchy vs. liberalism (in which neither case is argued for with much conviction), we discover what most readers will have by now already suspected: that a man working for Laura's grandfather is actually a double agent who has been working for the Tsar's secret police while simultaneously leading the terrorist wing of a Russian "revolutionary" movement. Which movement? We never find out. We learn all of this from Chubinov, an active member of that unidentified revolutionary movement. Laura will have little to do with such silliness, until she learns that it is in the nefarious plans of this double agent (whose principal nom de guerre is Kamensky) to do away with Laura and her grandfather. The remaining 200 pages deal with both Laura's and Chubinov's attempt to thwart Kamensky's best laid plans by dispatching him before he does them in.

Even if the outcome of such a story does not appear at first glance to be obvious, it would still be interesting to know where these characters fit in world history (if indeed they do). Chubinov briefly claims that his plans to do away with the double-crossing Kamensky will inadvertently benefit a certain man named Lenin and his "little Marxist group." As far as I can determine, by 1900 Lenin was a member of the Social Democratic Labor Party that did not split to form his Bolshevik-led wing until 1903. But if Lenin is a Marxist, where do Chubinov's ideological allegiances fall? We never really find out. More to the point, Laura does not really care. She is more concerned with the appearance of his poorly tailored overcoat than his wayward political leanings. The book concludes with Laura's mother holding out hope for a bright and shining future. As 21st century readers, however, we are well aware that within a mere 15 years, Europe will find itself enmeshed in WWI and the Russian civil war. The great benefit provided by the medium of the historical novel is that the best ones augment our understanding of history by allowing us to enter into the past to some degree on a personal and immediate level. As a dramatization of historical events, "The Birds Fall Down" manages the unfortunate feat of portraying those profound times as exceedingly banal.