Few institutions were as affected by the secret police (a.k.a the Securitate) as the Romanian Gymnastics Federation during the communist era. As a small country from Europe's communist block, Romania didn't really have any other achievements to flaunt, so the regime was understandaly set on clinging to its best export. And if that meant allowing a teenaged girl to be subjected to constant abuse... well some may have considered it a high honor. The self-sacrificing kind.
That said, this book is not so much about Nadia's specific abuse, but rather the secret police's tacit endorsement of certain behaviours, as long as someone could make a case for them being necessary for the "greater good". Oh, and if you're familiar with the , this book stands as even more proof that NO ONE liked the Karolyis.
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I've avoided reading this for the longest time, on the one hand because the book's entire marketing strategy felt creepy. On the other hand, the whole debacle about the atrocities of the Secret Police has been debated here for over 30 years, so yet another book didn't feel all that exciting. Basically, the PR campaign presented this book as a sort of unauthorised biography of a living person. I hesitate to go as far as to call it libelous, since Dr. Olaru does go to great lengths to provide reliable sources for his citation. Still, I can't imagine Nadia being too happy about her image in this book.
To be fair, unless you plan on writing your dissertation on the subject, I wouldn't recommend reading this. While very thoroughly researched, it nevertheless makes for an extremely dry reading material.
If you're just a gym-nerd curious about how the Romanian authorities could tolerate the Karolyis, just listen to Gymcastic's Interview with the author:
On the one hand, telling a life story with plenty of fodder for drama, but in a way that would suit a very young audience, was both a brilliant and chOn the one hand, telling a life story with plenty of fodder for drama, but in a way that would suit a very young audience, was both a brilliant and challenging move on Diana (a.k.a. Didi) Bulimar's part.
On the other hand, choosing to release her story as a children's book, she risked alienating her older fan base: such as my rather jaded 30-something self, who is known to vent her frustrations about children's book in low-scoring GR reviews (see Deenie and Pippi Longstocking).
To be fair, it did take me over two years to decide whether or not I should buy the book, but better late than never eh? The story is told in an incredibly tactful yet honest way, that I can't praise enough. From the energetic little girl, that would climb trees and race snails, to the cheeky little gymnast who'd try to outwit her coaches, not to mention the bronze-medal winning athlete proudly representing her country at the 2012 Olympics, this little book can truly inspire children to "awaken their inner champion". Be that an athlete, scientist, dancer, musician or even a foreign languages translator.
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Having read a few autobiographies, and watched several documentaries on the abuse perpetrated in the gymnastics world, I was most impressed by how the more sensitive topics were handled in Didi's story. While Andreea Raducan would try to gloss over the harsh training, and Maria Olaru would clearly point the finger at the abusive coaches, Diana chose the middle ground. She would admit to many hardships, be they physical or psychological, but at the same time she was classy enough to not accuse individual people, and instead focus on the effect these episodes had on her development.
I cannot overstate how much I appreciate this book for talking about all the bad things that Diana had to battle over the years: coaches who didn't think she had it, sports injuries, and worst of all the breakup of a friendship. And in a children's book no less, in a manner that didn't have tabloids rushing for a damning quote.
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Note: while the book doesn't mention this, Diana and Larisa have since reconciled, and are yet again good friends... as evidenced by each others' insta stories. Yes, yes, I know that social media can be fake, but I choose to believe this particular aspect to be true.
Unlike most autobiographies which end with the protagonist winning [ insert your preferred championship here ], this book doesn't get that type of fairy tale ending. Still, there is no doubt that Didi's story gets a much more valuable (not to mention realistic) gift, with the heroine finding her fighting spirit again....more
Maria Olaru's early childhood was marked by her parents' screaming matches, her father's suicide, and even the shunning of her relatives. NeverthelessMaria Olaru's early childhood was marked by her parents' screaming matches, her father's suicide, and even the shunning of her relatives. Nevertheless, a transfer half-way across the country to Romania's so-called medal factory set her firmly on the path to success.
Peppered with several love taps, some biting commentary, and even a few happy memories, Olaru slowly rises to the top of the podium during the , and even nabs the silver (initially bronze) medal during the very controversial all-around competition of the . No small feat with a naturally argumentative personality in a system built on absolute obedience.
[image] Maria Olaru's floor routine during All-Around at the 2000 Sydney Olympics
Among all the gymnastics documentaries I've watched, none have quite impressed me the way did. Not because she had it worse than anyone else, but rather the reaction to it, that I got from someone close to me: "yeah, but then Ohashi clearly wasn't cut out for elite gymnastics."
So Olaru enduring regular beatings, and plenty of derogatory remarks, was cut out for it, right? I mean, she won several medals, olympic ones included. Was it all worth it? Olaru says she doesn't regret choosing the sport, but I'm guessing she could have done without most of those love taps and psychological bullying. As for the aftermath... The ex-gymnast had to literally fight for years, to get access to her own medical records after her retirement. And when she finally succeeded, she got a folder riddled with carelessly torn out pages. But hey, others had it worse, with the federation altering their date of birth, thus invalidating all their means of identification. So... yay?
[image] Maria Olaru in 2016
Twenty years after retiring, Olaru still talks about her favorite coaches as having been warm, but not shying away from hitting her hard enough to fall down, or from conducting regular room searches, where reading her private diaries was fair game. All in the name of education, of course. To all that I can only echo : what is a little girl worth?
While the US had the Karolyis, Romania had the Karolyis plus the Bellu/Bitang duo. Ask any Romanian gym nerd and they'll wax poetic about the influence of the latter two on modern Romanian gymnastics, and it never being the same after they retired. This autobiography naturally had every most Romanians ask: Why now? Why is Olaru still holding grudges? Why couldn't she do the mature thing and only talk about the good things ? But I dare anyone with a soul to read this memoir and not want to scream bloody murder at the two coaches... and then some.
[image] Octavian Bellu and Mariana Bitang at the 2012 Olympics
In all her interviews Olaru insists that this book is actually a happy one, and that people should stop judging it solely based on that one specific controversial diary excerpt the tabloids keep referencing (a coach hitting her so hard, that she fell).
Well Maria, I have read your book in its entirety, and don't find it anywhere close to happy. With the possible exceptions of two chapters from life post-retirement. Romanians may say that beatings were just the norm during those days. Yet Olaru herself admits that not even her parents, despite all their vices, had ever raised a hand to her. The coaches on the other hand, especially those she recalls most fondly, were a different matter.
Score: 3.3/5 stars
I don't know about you, but this memoir left me feeling both horrified and incredibly hopeless. Will there ever come a day when the Romanian Gymnastics Federation gets the post-Nassar USAG treatment?
I've never been much of a sports fan, especially around the football (soccer) season. When everyone around me was busy cheering for their favorite teaI've never been much of a sports fan, especially around the football (soccer) season. When everyone around me was busy cheering for their favorite teams, all I could look forward to was a swift end to the world championship: the water cooler talk needed some new topics.
Back in middle school, I would occasionally watch the artistic gymnastics championships. Admitedly, the main reason may have had something to do with Sailor Moon being cancelled during the season. Not that I didn't enjoy all the cool tumbling...
[image] Andreea Raducan tumbling on the floor
I've actually had my eye on Andreea Raducan's autobiography for a while now, but somehow never really stumbled on it in libraries. As a matter of fact, if it hadn't been for the 2017 European Artistic Gymnastics Championships, I still wouldn't have it. The medals not being for sale, this was the next best thing.
Reading it in the aftermath of the hearings, I couldn't help but wince every time weight issues, or harsh reprimands were being mentioned. Especially when they were happening in the context of the events of the 2000 Olympic Games.
Just having her all-around medal taken away was dramatic enough, but when Andreea started to mention how the gymnasts were encouraged not to eat before their competitions, and how she would be feeling high on endorphins anyway... Well, things rapidly veered into creepy territory for me. I say all that, even though there is no trace of reproach anywhere in this book for either of her coaches.
[image] Andreea Raducan mid-air
I can understand not eating a few hours before the competition. But not eating anything all day before, when she had to compete in the early afternoon?! That didn't sound quite right to me.
The book's biggest flaw however, was its atrocious translation. It reads as if it had been written in Romanian, but using English words. And that's before we come to the numerous typos and grammatical errors, that should've been caught during editing. If I ever wanted a refund for a book, this was it.
He wanted a boy - probably a boy who would become a football player, but that was not to be. A girl was born instead - a girl so similar to him with the same characteristics and looks. The choice was gymnastics instead of football.
Listen mister, this is performance, not therapeutic gymnastics.
I had emotions, but also a huge trust in myself. I knew how to focus extremely well and to perform professionally.
Score: 2.6 / 5 stars I fervently wish I had bought the original version, whose undertone I could recognize in the translation. As awkward as the translation sounds in English, a literal re-translation to Romanian actually makes the book sound truly engaging. And that's its saving grace.
[image] Present-day Andreea Raducan
One of the reasons I review foreign books in English, is because I secretly hope that they'll one day inspire someone to translate them. Or retranslate them, as the case may be. Please. please, with cherry on top, let this book be translated by someone who can speak English naturally, and does not use Google Translate exclusively. Note to self: next time get the championship mascot....more
Ms. Smartarse
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