WHAT IF CINDERELLA FILED FOR DIVORCE?
OLGA GRUSHIN’S REAL LIFE INFORMS HER ‘CHARMED WIFE’
I’VE NEVER BEEN interested in ‘happily ever after,’ ” says Olga Grushin, whose new novel, “The Charmed Wife,” takes on the Cinderella myth. “I’m more interested in what happens after that.” Via Zoom from her office in Maryland, the author has an important caveat for fans of her genre-hopping novels and newcomers drawn by the premise of a revisionist fairy tale.
“I hope people come to this book with an open mind,” she says, “because it’s not at all a traditional retelling but a genre-bending mix of fantasy and realism.” Grushin’s Cinderella lives in a three-dimensional reality that sometimes overlaps with the author’s own life. Or as Grushin puts it: “Expect talking mice, yes, but also expect divorce proceedings and custody arrangements.”
“The Charmed Wife” is a changeup from her haunting 2006 debut novel, “The Dream Life of Sukhanov,” about a Soviet apparatchik who descends into a particularly Russian kind of madness, and her follow-ups, “The Line” and “Forty Rooms.” These contained elements of surrealist allegory reminiscent of forebears like Bulgakov and contemporaries like Victor Pelevin. But a comic riff on an ancient fairy tale feels like fresh terrain.
It didn’t feel that way for Grushin. Her upbringing in Moscow and Prague steeped the author in fairy tales from Russia and Eastern Europe. “Prague is really a fairy-tale place in itself,” Grushin says. “During the five years we lived there, we had a wonderful library. I would check out stacks of books and devour them, and fairy tales were always my favorites.”
One feature that binds all of
Grushin’s novels is authorial obsession. “I don’t write the same book twice because every book is something I must live with for two to four years,” she says. “I have so many interests, and a mental checklist of subjects I’d like to explore in depth, be it painting or ballet or ancient history. When I start a new novel, it has to keep me fully engaged for a while.”
GRUSHIN,50,mayhave been born and raised in the Soviet Union, but she writes in English — a decision dictated as much by chance as by choice. She was brought up in a culturally sophisticated household, her father a prominent sociologist, and educated at the Pushkin State Museum of Fine Arts and Moscow State University. At the latter institution, a visiting professor from Emory University, Ellen Mickiewicz, asked whether she would like to attend Emory.
“I said ‘Of course!’ but thought nothing more of it; it was unheard of at the time.” The Berlin Wall was ( just barely) still standing. “And suddenly I received an official envelope with a scholarship offer.” Upon arrival, “I found out I was the first Russian student ever to study for a four-year American degree.” She majored in sociology and religion and took courses in literature, one of them taught by Mickiewicz’s husband, Denis.
“We could submit our work in Russian,” Grushin says, “but he asked me to try writing my essays in English instead because he thought my English was, as he put it, ‘more powerful’ than my Russian, ‘stripped of unnecessary flourishes.’ It helped me, I think, when I eventually made the difficult decision to switch to English.”
Grushin had known from “the age of 4” that she wanted to be a writer. “The first book I ever wrote was called ‘Tale of a Lazy Princess and a Brave Prince.’ I was 7.” Fairy-tale relationships and their complications would become a recurring theme in her work and her life.
Grushin got married while at Emory, and after graduation the couple moved to Washington, D.C. They divorced shortly afterward. When she married again, the newlyweds made an agreement: Grushin would leave her editorial position at Dumbarton Oaks, the Harvardaffiliated research institute, and pursue her fiction while raising the couple’s children. If writing did not work out, she could always go back to work.
Without an MFA or any kind of writing community, Grushin simply