The Azeri people are a Turkic group of people who primarily live in the Republic of Azerbaijani and Iran’s northwest region. A people of mixed ethnic origins, the Azeri speak the Azerbaijani language and are predominantly Shia Muslims. Throughout history, the Azeri were subjected to numerous invasions, and before Azerbaijan asserted its independence in 1991, Soviet regimes suppressed the Azeri people and their language in numerous ways. Language oppression was a primary tactic, with Russian being a mandated second language, a language taught to Azeri children, and with the Cyrillic alphabet replacing the Azerbaijani one. In Akram Aylisli’s People & Trees: A Trilogy, translated by Katherine E. Young and published by Plamen Press, a post-World War II Azerbaijan reveals an Azerbaijan where men dream of life before collectivization, women thwart societal and religious norms, and the young narrator, Sadyk, revels in youthful fantasies.
Sadyk is a memorable, intimate narrator with a precocious nature. His observations of life and social interactions reveal a maturity that even some of the adult characters lack. What also makes him a unique character is his role in relation to many of the book’s women, who are powerhouses of strength and fortitude in their own right. Sadyk carefully balances childhood playfulness with a desire to navigate the adult world from the fringes. His relationship with Aunt Medina is one of respect and—though he does not outright state it—admiration. Aunt Medina is the one solid foundation in Sadyk’s life. While other male figures appear in the story and attempt to guide and influence Sadyk, those male figures are overbearing, violent, and a representation of how the Soviet system and World War II’s aftermath nearly killed an entire generation of men. Mukush is one such male figure, one of the few men left in the village during the war.
Mukush lives with the memories of life before collectivization. Frequenly, Mukush takes Sadyk with him to what was once Mukush’s grandfather’s land. Despite his haphazard, almost laughable nature, Mukush tends fruit trees with a care reminiscent of that of Detering from Erich Maria Remarque’s All Quiet on the Western Front. Mukush’s attitudes towards economics, are also a quiet rebellion against the Soviet system. In one scene, Mukush reveals he sold the bull calf for three sacks of grain, and he is seen by the village chairman as someone who “doesn’t operate honestly.” Mukush’s complex relationship with Sadyk’s aunt, Medina, is also intriguing. Mukush confesses to having “lived only” for Medina yet describes her as his “mortal enemy.” Sadyk’s precociousness most reveals itself as he observes Medina and Mukush. He notices that his aunt tends to be happiest when Mukush is gone. His eventual army conscription provides Medina with a strange, almost humorous, relief.
Eventually, characters like Yakub enter Sadyk’s recollections. Yakub, a man Sadyk describes as “Aunt Nabat’s son” returns from the army, and almost immediately, Sadyk presents Yakub as a clearly dislikeable character. Sadyk observes, “He flung his feet in their heavy black boots across the wall and immediately appeared in front of the iwan. All of this made it seem as if he hadn’t come back from the war, but simply absented himself for a short while: as if he’d been away from home not for four years, but four days.” Yakub is quick to point out all that Sadyk has not done or has not done well, particularly when it comes to caring for the apricot tree and the mulberry stumps. Thus, Yakub becomes Sadyk’s antithesis, because for as harsh and abrasive as Yakub is, Sadyk is equally as sensitive, showing an empathy towards animals, a compassion towards humans, and an intuition about nature that Yakub sorely lacks. These admirable traits in Sadyk are traits he carries with him throughout each and every story, and what truly helps form him as a complete character is Aylisli’s poetic writing. Sadyk’s self-awareness about himself is paralleled by his detailed surveys of the natural world and the human behaviors around him.
What adds even more intrigue to People & Trees is Alysli’s own story. An Azerbaijani novelist, playwright, and editor, Aylsli currently lives under de facto house arrest in Baku, Azerbaijan. He has been the subject of government-sanctioned harassment since the publication of Stone Dreams in 2012—a novella that portrays Azerbaijan’s historic enemy, Armenia, in a sympathetic light. According to a 2016 article in The Guardian, Alysli was arrested and accused of punching an official; Alysli called the charges of “hooliganism” “absurd.” Thus, a book like People & Trees—in which so many of characters are outcasts of a dehumanizing system built on fabrications and lies—becomes a necessary read at time in global history when right-wing, authoritarian governments and policies are on the rise.
Nicole Yurcaba (Нікола Юрцаба) is a Ukrainian American of Hutsul/Lemko origin. A poet and essayist, her poems and reviews have appeared in Appalachian Heritage, Atlanta Review, Seneca Review, New Eastern Europe, and Ukraine’s Euromaidan Press. Nicole holds an MFA in Writing from Lindenwood University, teaches poetry workshops for Southern New Hampshire University, and is the Humanities Coordinator at Blue Ridge Community and Technical College. She also serves as a guest book reviewer for Sage Cigarettes, Tupelo Quarterly, Colorado Review, and Southern Review of Books.