Thank you to NetGalley for my Advanced Readers Copy of this book.

What a powerful book this is. The stark black and white illustrations of this book clearly show the despair and persecution that a Russian Jew felt in Russia during the early 1980s. Constantly worried about being forced to fight in Afghanistan, constantly worried that their Jewish friends would meet an untimely death, always on edge because people are always watching and listening, hoping for a different tomorrow but believing it will always be this way. This book is so well written that I immediately picked up its prequel to lean more about the life of the author.

I'm not sure what I was expecting with this title. It was okay, but it is not something that I think my students would enjoy. It is very dark, which is understandable considering it is set in 1980's USSR.

Thank you to @netgalley and @eugeneyelchin for this story!

Yevgeny is a young adult passionate about art in a dangerous world. A chance encounter with an American woman makes him think there could be a different world opening up, but that is cruelty ripped away by reality in KGB run Russia. Fascinating, gut wrenching and powerful this story about life in Cold War Russia is a captivating read.

This was powerful. I spent 12 years working with teenagers who struggled with mental and behavioral health issues. This was done so well.

This graphic memoir broke my heart and stitched it back together with ink and honesty.

Picking up where The Genius Under the Table left off, Yelchin’s sequel dives deep into the dangers of growing up creative and curious under Soviet rule. His voice is equal parts biting and tender, full of quiet resistance and weary hope. The art and prose work hand in hand to expose the bleak absurdities of life in Cold War Russia, but it’s the deeply human moments, an unexpected crush, a terrifying hospital stay, a mother’s protective silence, that linger long after the last page.

Yevgeny’s story is as personal as it is political, a vivid look at one young man’s fight to carve out a future in a world built to crush dissent. This one hit me hard, especially in today’s climate, where truth-telling still comes at a cost.

Necessary reading for teens and adults alike. We should all be paying attention.

Eugene Yelchin delivers a powerful and poignant graphic memoir in I Wish I Didn't Have to Tell You This, the stunning sequel to his acclaimed The Genius Under the Table. This new installment chronicles Yelchin's harrowing journey from the clandestine art scene of Leningrad to a state-run Siberian asylum, and ultimately, to safety in the United States.

No longer the imaginative child finding solace beneath his grandmother's table, Yevgeny is now a young adult, fiercely pursuing his artistic aspirations under the oppressive shadow of the KGB. The constant threat of state surveillance and artistic suppression forms a chilling backdrop to his burgeoning dreams. A pivotal moment arrives with a chance encounter with an American woman, opening Yevgeny's world to the intoxicating possibilities of romance and the tantalizing prospect of freedom overseas. He believes he has finally found his path to a liberated future.

However, fate intervenes with a brutal twist: the looming threat of being drafted into the military and sent to fight in Afghanistan. This terrifying prospect forces Yevgeny to take drastic, desperate measures to control his destiny, leading to unthinkable consequences within the confines of a mental hospital.

Yelchin's signature blend of terror and dark wit, combined with his bold and vivid art, brings the stark realities of Soviet Russia to life. The graphic format powerfully conveys the emotional weight of Yevgeny's experiences, balancing the oppressive atmosphere of the Cold War era with moments of resilience and the author's distinctive charm. I Wish I Didn't Have to Tell You This not only shines a stark spotlight on a dark period of history but also offers a deeply nuanced and resonant exploration of growing up and ultimately escaping the Soviet Union in the early 1980s. This memoir is a compelling and unforgettable testament to the human spirit's fight for freedom and artistic expression.

In this memoir graphic novel set in Leningrad (St. Petersburg), in the Soviet Union in 1980, we meet Eugene as his friend’s family is trying to migrate to Israel, and he encourages Eugene to do the same. Eugene is more interested in meeting an American student who is witnessing the Russian Jews trying to emigrate. This is also the time of the 1980 Olympics, as well as the invasion of Afghanistan by the Soviets. But Eugene has eyes on Libby, who he has fallen in love with, in as an off-handed way, wanting to share his world, and wanting to be part of hers.

His grandmother and mother don’t really care, as long as he doesn't get drafted.

The world of Leningrad is bleak, and dark, and cold and sad, but Eugene tries to get Libby interested in it, just the same, and in him.

Depressing, but beautiful, this is a story of dark times, and how people survive them. If you don’t mind getting your feet wet, it is not so much enjoyable, but thoughtful

Thanks to Netgalley for making this book available for an honest review. This book is coming out the 15th of September 2025.

This is such an interesting book, and a very hard one to rate. There were conversations in here that I have personal thoughts on, but also... this is a memoir, and it feels weird to rate the 'content' of a person's life?

So I'm sticking to rating the structure and storytelling. One, the art is extremely stylized and atmospheric, and it adds to the overall sense of surreal bleakness. The occasional use of photos is quite interesting. The visuals reminded me of the Beatles' "Yellow Submarine" cartoon, but in a way that highlighted the contrast between those high pops and color and the grim black-and-white of this memoir.

I don't feel like the emotions came across all that clearly, especially in the context of the relationship, such as it was, with the "love interest," Libby. Talking about this in the context of a real person's life is a bit weird, but it seemed like the connection between 'Chin' and Libby was incredibly flat and impersonal. Then again, that might be by design, given the aim of the courtship (as described here) was primarily strategic. The relationship with Libby, as with the other topics that got my hackles up, are presented in such a way that even when I felt some type of way about them still made sense. Given the context in which Yelchin was making certain choices, I can understand *WHY* he did. On that level, while I wouldn't say I enjoyed reading this, given how dark and depressing it is, I'm glad I did. Yelchin doesn't try to explain or justify these choices; he admits that many of his actions were driven by a sense of self-preservation.

I think this is worth a read, though I suspect that how you feel about the art style will be a big part of the reading experience. Rating a memoir is harder for me than rating fiction, so it's four stars for me, with the caveats mentioned above. That's pretty much my baseline for memoir review unless I either adore it or have complaints about the structure, etc.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC. This is certainly an interesting graphic memoir.