Abstract

The black cover and red end papers that contain Dmitri Shostakovich's memoirs were no doubt intended by the publishers to symbolize the book's troubled content. Largely through Shostakovich's own words, this book unfolds a grim picture of the existence of a highly gifted composer before, during and after Stalin's regime. It is a tale of blood, terror, intrigue (often of the most petty sort) and humiliation. Since the memoirs are an attempt to explain frequently baffling events, Testimony occasionally obscures its subject when it means to illuminate it. To be sure, we now know more of Shostakovich's creative life than before, but one finishes the book with the realization that the reasons a man gives for his actions are sometimes not objectively sought for motives.