First-time Toronto writer Tina Grimberg chronicles her life as a young girl in 1970s Ukraine in this engaging memoir. Grimberg records the terrors and hardships of the communist regime – the fear of informers, the endless queues for goods, and the constant graft (which teaches her the power of “connections”) – that have come to represent Soviet life to Western readers. Her family’s experiences of anti-Semitism illuminate the further perils that they faced as Jewish Soviets, though ironically the Grimbergs’ “undesirable” status helped them immigrate to the U.S.

However, the author also challenges the stereotype of unending Soviet grimness with a light touch and a keen eye for anecdotal gems. She knits together a series of memories, by turns touching and funny, that capture a world now totally foreign to young readers, most of whom were born after the Cold War ended.

I needed a few chapters to get used to Grimberg’s style, which moves frequently and not always smoothly between past and present, but soon found myself hooked by this accessible book. I was disappointed, however, when it concluded abruptly, with the family narrowly catching the train out of Ukraine. Having come to care about these people, readers will be anxious to learn more about what happens to Tina (now a rabbi) and her family, even if only in a brief epilogue. The cynic in me smells a sequel in the making, but I felt this sudden ending did a disservice to readers.

The book’s price may be a bit high for some potential buyers. Still, I hope Out of Line finds an audience, since it offers a fresh perspective on Soviet life and is worth a read.