Product Description

The setting is Milwaukee, Wisconsin—if not America’s heart, then at least its liver—home to an array of breweries and abandoned factories and down-on-their-luck Eastern European immigrants. The year is 1989.

Revolutions are sweeping through the nations of the Eastern Bloc. Communism is unraveling. And nobody feels this unraveling more piquantly than Yuri Balodis—a fifteen-year-old first-generation American living with his Latvian-immigrant parents in Milwaukee’s Third Ward.

It’s a turbulent time. And when Yuri falls in love with Hannah Graham—the daring daughter of a prominent local socialist—chaos ensues. Within weeks, Yuri is ensnared by both Hannah and socialism. He joins the staff of the Socialist Worker. He starts quoting Lenin and Marx indiscriminately.

His parents, of course, are horrified and deeply saddened. They try to educate him, to show him why, in their opinion, communism has ruined so many lives. But Yuri is stubborn. And his ideological betrayal will have more serious consequences than breaking his parents’ hearts.

Red Weather is by turns funny and bittersweet, tinged with a rueful comic sense that will instantly remind you of the absurd complications of love. Pauls Toutonghi’s stunning debut novel is at once reminiscent of Michael Chabon’s The Mysteries of Pittsburgh and Khaled Hosseini’s The Kite Runner.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #1314126 in Books
• Published on: 2006-05-23
• Released on: 2006-05-23
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Hardcover
• 256 pages

From Publishers Weekly
Toutonghi's tragicomic debut novel paints a loving, cockeyed picture of the Soviet immigrant experience in the twilight of the Cold War. Yuri Balodis, a painfully thin, bookish 15-year-old living in Milwaukee with his parents, narrates with adolescent angst tempered by retrospective wisdom. Proud to have escaped Soviet Latvia under trying circumstances, Yuri's mother and father (who works as a janitor) have embraced America, choosing to speak only their own idiosyncratic brand of English and decorating their small apartment with glossy magazine ads. In 1989, Yuri watches the fall of the Berlin Wall on television, plays host to Latvian relatives who may or may not be seeking asylum, and dabbles in socialism, an interest derived mostly from his passion for wild-haired Hannah Graham, a Socialist Worker vendor. Yuri's patriotic parents, particularly his hard-drinking father, Rudolfi, are outraged by Yuri's espousal of Marxist rhetoric, a blatant form of teenage rebellion. Oblivious to everything except his own obsession with Hannah, Yuri fails to recognize his father's love, and the implications of his own recklessness, until it's almost too late. Toutonghi's carefully observed character details, evocation of working-class Milwaukee and tales of the old country effectively walk the line between realism and absurdity. (May)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

From Booklist
It's 1989 in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Yuri Balodis, the shy son of Latvian immigrants, leads a quiet existence, experiencing the world through books. But a desire to do something, anything--and a chance encounter with pretty student Hannah Graham--leads him to join a newspaper-selling socialist group led by Hannah's father. The Grahams are privileged people for whom socialism is a theory. Yuri's parents fled Latvia in a shipping container full of hogs after suffering under communism. Yuri isn't sure what he believes in. But in a few short weeks, he falls in love, meets long-lost family, and commits an impulsive act that will have echoing repercussions, learning a lot in the process. Pushcart Prize winner Toutonghi (himself the Latvian-Egyptian son of immigrants) writes with an assured hand and a quirky, wry sense of humor. Yuri and his small family--especially Yuri's alcoholic, country-and-western-loving father--are memorable and lovingly drawn. The ending goes on too long, and a late, surprising sexual awakening feels unnecessary, but this is a first novel of uncommon poise and power. Keir Graff
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved

Review
“Pauls Toutonghi is such an original, it seems almost blasphemous to try comparing him to others, but here goes: Gary Shteyngart meets David Sedaris meets Frank McCourt. In other words, he’s whip-smart and hilarious and Red Weather is a guaranteed knockout.” —Darin Strauss, author of Chang and Eng

“Pauls Toutonghi’s vibrant first novel, lyrical and rich in human insight, celebrates the essential experience of the first-generation American, whose struggle for full nativeness is always joined within the dizzying, tragic, and exuberant campaign to become an adult.” —Ken Kalfus, author of The Commissariat of Enlightenment

“Pauls Toutonghi’s humor is imbued with a rare generosity of spirit. And, with his debut novel, he has written a moving and entertaining love letter to youth, to family, to his heritage, and, perhaps most important, to Milwaukee, a city that is woefully underrepresented in contemporary fiction.” —Adam Langer, author of Crossing California

“Red Weather introduces a wonderful new character to the world of fiction—Rudolfi Balodis—a hero, a thief, an ex-communist, an alcoholic, a janitor, a Latvian, a singer of the blues, and above all else a father. Pauls Toutonghi skillfully develops this comic tale of immigrants in Milwaukee into a first-rate novel about the conflicts, love, and ultimate understanding between fathers and sons. I laughed, I cried, I ate borscht.” —Hannah Tinti, author of Animal Crackers


From the Hardcover edition.

Customer Reviews

Overcast Weather
We Latvians are a small nation, but oh, we are a proud people! We are a nation beaten and battered by many wars over many hundreds, even thousands of years, but our culture and life sense still thrive: the Latvian language is one of the oldest in existence today, still actively used. Perhaps that is our greatest source of pride, then: we are survivors.

When Pauls Toutonghi's new novel, Red Weather, came upon the literary scene, I was greatly pleased. I've been an avid reader in both languages - Latvian and English - since earliest childhood, but however many good books I read about the war and later experiences of Latvians immigrating to other countries and cultures, it was rare to come across a worthy tome in English. History books, yes, but far more rare, a good attention-grabbing novel that I could proudly share with non-Latvian friends.

Now, here's Pauls. With one Latvian parent, it is my understanding he has grown up in the Milwaukee area, active in the Latvian community and, having visited Latvia, is well-acquainted, one would suppose, with the culture and something of the nation's history. For these reasons, I read the novel with high expectation and excitement.

Pauls' writing abilities do not disappoint. Still quite young, he has already accrued an impressive publishing history, and has won the Pushcart Prize. His descriptions are lively, his storyline pulls us along, his sense of humor is intact.

And yet. The further I read, the more I realized, no, this was not going to be the book that I would pass on to Latvians I know, or to non-Latvians I'd like to invite a little more intimately into my multi-cultural world. The novel works as an entertaining read for non-Latvians, perhaps, but for those who do know the history and culture, well, not so much. I think my sense of humor is healthy, but I can't help feeling, for instance, that describing Latvians visiting the United States as being so dense as to put ketchup on every possible food, even bananas, craving to taste the American life, is taking the joke into the much less fun realm of ridicule. Or the Latvian mother as so eye-rollingly lacking in self-awareness as to walk Milwaukee streets wearing a Pabst hardhat with a beer can on it as if she were wearing a Parisian fashion statement. Surely not. I cringed in embarrassment. Humor is often built on slapstick and exaggeration, but would those who have no other knowledge of Latvians, perhaps never will have any other exposure than this novel, think this is what it means to be a Latvian? Bumbling fools?

Perhaps even more worthy of remark are some historic inaccuracies. Although this is a fictional work, even fiction must keep its feet firmly on factually solid ground before branching into fantasy. One such example is the allusion to Latvia's president, Karlis Ulmanis, and his attempt to escape to Finland during the Soviet invasion of World War II (see page 166). In fact, President Ulmanis held his place, broadcasting over the radio waves to the nation even as the Soviet tanks crossed the Russian border, keeping down the panic and requesting all to remain in their places, thus saving many Latvian lives. He was taken by force from his office by the occupying army, and was never seen alive again. Educated guesses are that he was deported to Siberia, where he died in a Gulag (concentration camp), but his body has never been found.

Having finished the novel, wondering at how very different the author's experience of his Latvian roots and culture were from mine, indeed from anyone I have known with Latvian roots and having gone through the immigrant experience, I wanted to think - hey, there's always the exception to the rule. If by 1989, when this story is set, any Latvian immigrant I or my family knew had established themselves in relative financial security (the fictional Balodis family still lived in squalor), had attained some measure of their new country's education and achieved something of their own immigrant American dream, then the Balodis family was certainly a lone exception to the rule. Nor could I imagine my own father, or fathers of my friends, being so easygoing about the political lines the young man in this novel, Yuri (Juris), crossed in his lovelorn relationship with a socialist girl (my own, and dare I say any typical, Latvian father, would have gone through the roof, to put it very, very lightly).

As a reality check, I shared Red Weather with my parents, who shared it with several of their friends. Their reactions were the same. They expressed admiration for the author's skill, but also expressed a pained disappointment in the skewed image of Latvian immigrants to the U.S. The image the book leaves is of a people who are gullible, not particularly industrious, and rather dim-witted.

An opportunity lost. My subjective opinion, but I'm sure shared by more than a few of my countrymen and women.

A view of red Milwaukee
Two unusual elements take front and center stage in this novel: Latvian culture and the city of Milwaukee, both woefully underrepresented in todays literature. Red Weather is a welcome treat and introduction to both.

What perhaps makes it all the more unusual is that our first-generation Latvian-American teenage hero, Yuri, actually desires to learn of his parents' language and culture. It is they that put the kibosh on this,a not-so-unusual phenom among new emigres. Yuri finds himself attracted to an odd-shaped Latvian book his parents had (which proves to be a major identifier for him later on in the story). He feels that "My parents had kept me from participating in my cultural identity as much as possible" yet "In some ways I envied my Dad's separation from the larger part of American life. He lived within certain limits...it was simple." Furthermore, Uncle Ivan remarks that young Rigans today want to speak Latvian, learn Latvian customs and fly the Latvian flag.

I can so readily identify with Yuri when he compares himself to his cousin Eriks and feels "culturally impoverished."

The Wallace Stevens poems at the beginning of each new phase in the story add nothing, though, to the content of the book.

I loved to see Yuri's father's reaction to the pampered, surreal, safe, suburban "communists" at Marquette et al...talk about reality meeting idealism! Wish there'd been more discussion between Hannah and Erik's disagreement on socialism!

Riga earns frequent mention in RW, another Westernly neglected city.

A beautiful and touching book
I am excited to share my opinion about this new novel, and new writer who I discovered a few weeks ago, after hearing his novel reviewed on NPR.

I loved this book. The narration was touching and light-hearted. Maybe not as funny as I would have liked in places, but it definitely kept me hooked and moving forward.

I loved the scenes with the father. Red Weather has truly captured -- at least in my opinion -- the essence of the father-son relationship. It was a book that reminded me of my own dad (recently passed away). I could hear his voice in the father's voice, and that was tremendously moving to me.

When I logged on, I noticed that one reviewer, in particular, took objection to a couple things here and there in the book. It seems funny to me to take objection to small factual mistakes in a novel; everything in a novel is subjective, right? Did these characters actually exist? Of course not. Why would you imagine that everything they say would be perfectly accurate? It's the heart of the details that matter!

And Toutonghi's attention to detail is wonderful. I did a little bit of simple research and noticed that he got his MFA in poetry -- not fiction -- from Cornell University. So: his work is hardly the derivative product of an MFA program.

A funny book! I really loved it.