Book Review: Myself in the Rubble 07/27/3133
Myself in the Rubble: A Memoir of the Liao Massacre
Lila Bogdonavich
Storytellers Press
§24.99
Reviewed by Imre Colton
In the nearly 20-plus years since the Massacre of Liao, Lila Bogdonavich has suffered
three recurring nightmares. In the first, she is 12 years old, lying in bed unable to
move, watching her bedroom ceiling fall in on her. In the second, she sits in an empty
palace on a throne, speaking to a doctor who says he can’t heal her hands; when she
looks at her hands, her fingers are tentacles with a life of their own. In the third, she
walks across a landscape of rubble looking for her parents. She finds instead her own
body, staring at the sky. In Myself in the Rubble: A Memoir of the Liao Massacre, Lila
Bogdonavich uses these three dreams as the framework for her story: the first
symbolizes all she lost; the second her helplessness in the clutches of a heartless
system; and the third as a point of departure for her ultimate salvation.
Myself in the Rubble is a first-person look at the Massacre of Liao of 3111-13. In the
wake of nine years of low-level terrorism by Capellan Confederation sympathizers, a
still-unidentified traitor allowed a CapCon DropShip to land at the Drop Port nearest to
the planetary capital, discharging the first wave of an invasion force that would
attempt to take possession of the planet. Over the course of the next two years, Liao
saw some of the bloodiest combat the Republic has known since its inception. By the
time that Republic forces prevailed, civilian deaths had reached the millions. In just the
first five days, much of Chang-an, the capitol city, was destroyed. Lila Bogdonavich,
12 years old, ill and home from school, was orphaned in that first wave, and watched
as her home and her life came down around her ears.
Pulled from the rubble by neighbors, Bogdonovich spent the next few days in a shelter
in their company. When the next attacks came, the shelter was bombed. In one of the
most wrenching passages of the book, the author describes digging through the
rubble searching for her neighbors as they had searched for her, and finding only
body parts. Bogdonavich spent the next few months living and running on the streets
of a war-torn Chang-an, hiding in basements, drinking from puddles and scrambling
for survival. Once the fighting ended, however, she was found, placed with Chang-
an's Civic Child Care Services and forgotten. CCCS was unable to place Ms.
Bogdonavich with relatives, most of whom lived off-world, or with a foster family—
the fate of so many of the Orphans of Liao. She remained in CCCS care until her 18th
birthday. The years that followed become the heart of the book, as Ms. Bogdonavich
recounts living on the streets of Chang-an, navigating the social support systems of
the city, and trying to live something close to a normal life.
Although Myself in the Rubble is certainly not the first memoir to portray the
devastation of the Massacre of Liao, it is by far the rawest. Bogdonavich spares no
detail as she describes the brutality of the combat she witnessed—Capellan
BattleMechs crushing civilians beneath their feet, homes randomly carved to bits by
laser fire—as well as the cruelty of the system that was intended to be her cushion
against disaster. So many Orphans of Liao were shuttled into the already overtaxed
CCCS that the legacy of the Massacre of Liao is still not fully understood by
historians and sociologists. The intensity of emotion radiates from the page so that, in
the end, when Ms. Bogdonavich finds herself first participating in and then leading
support groups for Massacre survivors, there’s a relief for the readers as well.
Myself in the Rubble will become a touchstone in the healing process for the people of
Liao. It will certainly be required reading for anyone desiring an understanding of the
social impact of the Massacre. For the Betrayer of Liao, whose act of treason
prompted the ruin of a world, it will be another well-deserved indictment.
Myself in the Rubble: A Memoir of the Liao Massacre
Lila Bogdonavich
Storytellers Press
§24.99
Reviewed by Imre Colton
In the nearly 20-plus years since the Massacre of Liao, Lila Bogdonavich has suffered
three recurring nightmares. In the first, she is 12 years old, lying in bed unable to
move, watching her bedroom ceiling fall in on her. In the second, she sits in an empty
palace on a throne, speaking to a doctor who says he can’t heal her hands; when she
looks at her hands, her fingers are tentacles with a life of their own. In the third, she
walks across a landscape of rubble looking for her parents. She finds instead her own
body, staring at the sky. In Myself in the Rubble: A Memoir of the Liao Massacre, Lila
Bogdonavich uses these three dreams as the framework for her story: the first
symbolizes all she lost; the second her helplessness in the clutches of a heartless
system; and the third as a point of departure for her ultimate salvation.
Myself in the Rubble is a first-person look at the Massacre of Liao of 3111-13. In the
wake of nine years of low-level terrorism by Capellan Confederation sympathizers, a
still-unidentified traitor allowed a CapCon DropShip to land at the Drop Port nearest to
the planetary capital, discharging the first wave of an invasion force that would
attempt to take possession of the planet. Over the course of the next two years, Liao
saw some of the bloodiest combat the Republic has known since its inception. By the
time that Republic forces prevailed, civilian deaths had reached the millions. In just the
first five days, much of Chang-an, the capitol city, was destroyed. Lila Bogdonavich,
12 years old, ill and home from school, was orphaned in that first wave, and watched
as her home and her life came down around her ears.
Pulled from the rubble by neighbors, Bogdonovich spent the next few days in a shelter
in their company. When the next attacks came, the shelter was bombed. In one of the
most wrenching passages of the book, the author describes digging through the
rubble searching for her neighbors as they had searched for her, and finding only
body parts. Bogdonavich spent the next few months living and running on the streets
of a war-torn Chang-an, hiding in basements, drinking from puddles and scrambling
for survival. Once the fighting ended, however, she was found, placed with Chang-
an's Civic Child Care Services and forgotten. CCCS was unable to place Ms.
Bogdonavich with relatives, most of whom lived off-world, or with a foster family—
the fate of so many of the Orphans of Liao. She remained in CCCS care until her 18th
birthday. The years that followed become the heart of the book, as Ms. Bogdonavich
recounts living on the streets of Chang-an, navigating the social support systems of
the city, and trying to live something close to a normal life.
Although Myself in the Rubble is certainly not the first memoir to portray the
devastation of the Massacre of Liao, it is by far the rawest. Bogdonavich spares no
detail as she describes the brutality of the combat she witnessed—Capellan
BattleMechs crushing civilians beneath their feet, homes randomly carved to bits by
laser fire—as well as the cruelty of the system that was intended to be her cushion
against disaster. So many Orphans of Liao were shuttled into the already overtaxed
CCCS that the legacy of the Massacre of Liao is still not fully understood by
historians and sociologists. The intensity of emotion radiates from the page so that, in
the end, when Ms. Bogdonavich finds herself first participating in and then leading
support groups for Massacre survivors, there’s a relief for the readers as well.
Myself in the Rubble will become a touchstone in the healing process for the people of
Liao. It will certainly be required reading for anyone desiring an understanding of the
social impact of the Massacre. For the Betrayer of Liao, whose act of treason
prompted the ruin of a world, it will be another well-deserved indictment.
| July 27, 3133 |