Book: Boris Akunin “After a Long and Severe Illness”

And so, Boris Akunin’s nine-volume History of the Russian State has come to an end—a project that took him nearly ten years to complete. Beginning from the very origins, he concluded his narrative with the reign of Nicholas II and the year 1917. Of course, Russia’s history did not end there, but from that point on, it largely became a completely different country, transforming into the USSR for the next 70 years. One could argue that even in its earlier stages, it wasn’t quite Russia as we understand it today—after all, Kievan Rus’ was the cradle of several nations. Unfortunately, at the time I am writing these lines, even this topic is being used to justify war. That’s why I viewed this series as a history of the Eastern Slavs, with a focus on the people of modern-day Russia.

The closer the author got to modern history, the more eagerly I anticipated his take on events that we studied in detail at school—albeit in a rather one-sided way. From Boris Akunin, I expected a more impartial perspective on these events, delivered in his distinctive style.

The final stage of the Russian Empire’s life is the reign of its last emperor, Nicholas II, a figure who evokes highly polarized opinions—either as a completely inept autocrat or as a near-saint. Above all, he was a man placed in circumstances for which he was, evidently, not well suited.

This time, focusing on a period of history well known to many, Boris Akunin chose a new approach to his storytelling. He divided the book into two parts. In the first, titled “A Bouquet of Illnesses,” he examines the condition of the empire during this era, portraying the vast country as a sick patient suffering from numerous chronic diseases. He identifies many of the same issues he has repeatedly highlighted in earlier volumes: the conflict between the sacralized autocratic power and an increasingly self-aware society, the imperial obsession with expansion and the inability to manage it, national tensions (Jews, Poles, Finns, and others), and more. He also lays out how all these problems—along with the personality of the emperor himself—became entangled in a knot from which there was almost no way out.

In the second part of the book, Boris Akunin presents the final 24 hours of agony for this “ailing patient,” with each hour representing a year of Nicholas II’s reign—exactly 24 in total. The result is a kind of hour-by-hour history of the illness that ultimately led to the empire’s demise. However, Akunin does not consider the October Revolution of 1917 to be the empire’s true “death,” but rather the February Revolution and Nicholas II’s subsequent abdication. In his view, that was the definitive end of autocracy, while the Provisional Government that lasted for a few months was already the first step toward a new Russia, freed from monarchical rule.

I found this approach to structuring the material quite interesting. However, in terms of engagement, this final volume is weaker than the previous one. I’m not sure whether Akunin was hesitant to delve deeper into this heavily documented period, or if he deliberately aimed to maintain a distant and detached perspective—but the result feels rather superficial. Many historical figures are mentioned only in passing (though, of course, some of them only became key figures in hindsight), and even Nicholas II himself is depicted in broad strokes.

In comparison, Alexander II and Alexander III were given much fuller portrayals than the last emperor. And in terms of narrative engagement, the best volumes were likely the earlier ones, up until the Golden Horde. After that, the material fluctuated—sometimes improving, sometimes declining.

Despite these shortcomings, the series remains a fascinating work. Akunin’s personal perspective is present throughout, but for me, that’s more of a plus than a minus. After all, he wasn’t writing a purely academic history textbook—he is a novelist, and it was interesting to see history through the eyes of someone who clearly cares about both the past and the country itself. I read each volume as it was released, have no regrets, and would even recommend it. After all, if you find yourself disagreeing with certain points and wanting to argue, that’s a good sign. A book that leaves you indifferent is far worse.

To conclude, I would love to read a similar work on the history of Belarus and Ukraine. In this series, these lands are mentioned only in the early “pan-Slavic” period and after their conquest by the Russian Empire—and even then, only briefly. Yet, each had a vast and unique historical period in between, filled with its own great figures. And in many cases, their history is even more captivating than Russia’s.

My rating: 3/5

The entire series: 4/5