What happened to Anna K.
All happy heroines resemble one another, each unhappy one is unhappy in her own way. Although, actually, readers of Irina Reyn鈥檚 debut novel, What Happened to Anna K. might notice that her heroine鈥檚 brand of unhappiness bears certain similarities to a tragic figure of classic Russian literature.
Reyn, a Russian-American who emigrated from Moscow as a child, has scooped up Leo Tolstoy鈥檚 Anna Karenina and carried her over to the New World with her 鈥� lock, stock, and affair. Her Anna K. is a Russian Jew whose family lives in a Russian enclave in Queens. Fast approaching middle age with a dead-end job in publishing, Anna agrees to marry the wealthy Alex K. She has a baby, Serge, and is still sorting out the compromises of her life when she sets eyes on her younger cousin Katia鈥檚 boyfriend, an adjunct professor and would-be novelist.
Anna K., a romantic who read 鈥�Wuthering Heights鈥� 14 times growing up, has always longed to be the main character of a novel 鈥� preferably a big 19th-century one by a literary giant. 鈥淪he would imagine it was she who was the heroine, willing powerful lovers to prostrate themselves before her, allowing them to sob their love to her in the middle of a rainstorm, at balls, inside carriages.鈥� (Reyn has a great deal of fun with such jokes 鈥� on Page 5, for example, she announces that 鈥渆ver since she was a little girl, Anna had loved trains.鈥�)
After she marries Alex K., Anna has an exclusive address on the Upper East Side and enough tasteful black dresses to enchant the entire male population of Rego Park. But she is as out of place among the Russian nouveau riche as she was among her extended family鈥檚 conservative form of Judaism. There鈥檚 a hysterical scene when Anna鈥檚 book club dismisses 鈥淲uthering Heights鈥� as so much nonsense and opt for Sophie Kinsella, of the 鈥淪hopaholic鈥� series, for their next choice. 鈥淐鈥檓on ladies ... who would you prefer?鈥� Nadia, the Princess Betsy stand-in, asks. 鈥淭he caveman running around the forest or that nice Linton?鈥�
Not to give too much away, but just as a remake of 鈥淧ride & Prejudice鈥� isn鈥檛 likely to end with Elizabeth as a penniless spinster wishing she鈥檇 taken up Mr. Collins on his generous proposal, an update of 鈥淎nna Karenina鈥� isn鈥檛 apt to conclude with the main character being showered with roses by her adoring husband.
鈥淲hat Happens to Anna K.鈥� is a smart, witty, at times downright funny read. But there鈥檚 no doubt that Anna is definitely harder to empathize with in her modern incarnation. Women鈥檚 lives in Europe and America today are far less circumscribed than those of their 19th-century counterparts. So when a heroine from the 1800s is plunked down in 20th-century America, she can seem oddly passive 鈥� not to say whiny. I haven鈥檛 yet read an update of 鈥淧ersuasion鈥� that was fully satisfying, for example, although writers, bless them, keep trying. There were times while reading 鈥淲hat Happened to Anna K.鈥� where I wanted to grab Anna by the shoulders and yell, 鈥淕et a job already!鈥�
Divorce, for another thing, is not the extreme rarity it was in the 19th century, and divorced women don鈥檛 tend to become automatic pariahs 鈥� although that鈥檚 not necessarily true among certain immigrant communities, a fact that Reyn exploits.
Literary updates have become perennially popular (my favorite is still Zadie Smith鈥檚 鈥淥n Beauty,鈥� which set E.M. Forster鈥檚 鈥淗oward鈥檚 End鈥� among a mixed-race family in Massachusetts), but Reyn鈥檚 conceit is a particularly captivating one 鈥� and particularly tricky to carry off. Tragic heroines such as Anna Karenina or Emma Bovary belong so precisely to their particular time and society. To pry them out of their natural setting but still keep them recognizable takes a great deal of ability. Reyn, with her wry, deft writing and her strong characterizations of immigrant life in Queens, has plenty to spare. It also helps that she鈥檚 interested in more than just writing a romance 鈥� using Anna to examine questions of how to have a happy life and how to forge an identity in an adopted country when your homeland has irrevocably changed.
In an early chapter titled 鈥淭he Great Russian Soul,鈥� Reyn lays out her marching orders: to examine the 鈥渧elikaia russkaia dusha鈥� and the effects of modernity and immigration on said institution. 鈥�Fyodor Dostoyevsky called it the 鈥楻ussian disease ... an indifference toward everything that is vital 鈥� toward the truth of life, everything that nourishes life and generates health.鈥� But is there truth to any of it, or is it just a story, a myth created to justify one鈥檚 suffering?... And what happens to the Great Russian Soul when it is transplanted? Can it flourish in Rego Park, Queens, for example?鈥�
That may be an open question, but it turns out that the Russian novel can thrive there just fine.
Yvonne Zipp regularly reviews fiction for the Monitor.
