.png)
The City, a novel by Valerian Pidmohylny, might sound like another mundane urban tale, but don't let its simplistic title fool you. Written by a bright mind of the early 20th century Ukrainian literary scene, it gives us an unexpected look at the often glorified city life—one that could make even the most ardent urban lover think twice. Written during the tumultuous 1920s, a time when Ukraine was wrestling with political and cultural changes, this novel takes us deep into the urban landscape of Kyiv. But why does it matter today?
Imagine a world where ambition drives a young man from the peaceful countryside into the bustling chaos of urban life. Sound familiar? Probably because this narrative mirrors the liberal dreams about constant progression and urbanization—a belief that living in the city represents the ultimate advancement in human life. But let's be real, has the city life really delivered on its promise? Here, Pidmohylny doesn't just glorify the urban hustle; he lays bare its soul-sucking influence.
The protagonist, Stepan, embodies the universal journeyer, seeking individuality and prosperity. His dreams, however, aren't met with the green pastures of opportunity one might expect. Instead, he finds himself entangled in a web of deceit, loneliness, and existential crisis. Yes, the city offers opportunity, but at what price? As Stepan discovers, having your individuality swallowed by the urban machine isn't exactly a dream come true. The novel busts the liberal myth that you need to exchange your rural roots for a shot at greatness.
While reading this novel, something incredible becomes clear: Pidmohylny predicted the future. The misconceptions of city life observed in Stepan’s era resonate today, as we constantly hear urban centers praised as beacons of culture and innovation. But didn’t the pandemic teach us something different? Didn't we discover that cities can be suffocating, overregulated, and often oppressive? Pidmohylny might as well have been writing yesterday. His cautionary tale squeaks echoes of a misplaced faith in mega-cities creating a utopian society.
Pidmohylny's writing style is cunningly pragmatic. He crafts this captivating cityscape but doesn’t shy away from portraying its grimy underbelly. It's an exposé on how the city promises abundance but often deals in redundancy. Urban areas love to pride themselves on diversity, yet frequently disrupt genuine individuality—the very essence of personal freedom. This novel exposes this lie, presenting the fallacy of the urban superiority complex as the mirage it often is.
Reading The City is like watching a rebel rejecting a predetermined path. Stepan’s evolution isn’t just a personal catastrophe but a metaphor for society’s blind plunge into modern progress. For a conservative soul, it’s gratifying to see a literary piece that doesn’t just celebrate urban life's superficial allure. It's about time someone unearthed the gritty truth that urban isn’t always better than rural—the mistaken gospel of progressives for far too long.
Pidmohylny uses secondary characters as pieces of his poignant critique. The people Stepan interacts with are like reflections, each revealing another facet of urban disillusionment. They are proof of the city’s tendency to go beyond mere influence and veer into indoctrination, pressuring individuals to adhere to the norms rather than nurture their authentic selves. Move over, West Coast idealism; Stepan's struggles in The City show us a blueprint for the dystopian urban reality.
So, why chew over dusty literature from yesteryear? Because this novel's themes couldn't be more relevant. As cities become even more crowded and political power concentrates in these hubs, Pidmohylny's tale warns us to pause. If this was true for a storyteller like him defending cultural identity, it resonates louder in our times, when political correctness often sanitizes real discussion on the pitfalls of urbanization.
And let’s not forget the book’s backdrop. The City emerges from the pages of an era when Ukraine was deep in the process of seeking identity. While Pidmohylny belongs to a different epoch, his message is salient for modern conservatives weary of losing their heritage amid the relentless march of progress and urban encroachment.
Here's the bottom line: The City by Pidmohylny isn’t just about a man and his dreams colliding with reality. It challenges us to reassess our blind admiration of sprawling metropolises and serves as a much-needed reminder to stay grounded in reality rather than herded into a delusional urban utopia resistant to individuality. If you’re a conservative who has been skeptical of the glamorous portrayal of city life, this novel will resonate in a way that demands attention.