MADAMINJONOVA SARVIGULM
“Birlashgan Millatlar Tashkiloti a’zosi - ozod O‘zbekiston uchun bitdim!” - says Tog‘ay Murod.
Tog‘ay Murod’s novel “Fields Left by My Father” holds a unique place in Uzbek literature, portraying the fate of the nation with profound artistic insight. Through this work, the author not only captures the historical period but also vividly reflects the suffering of individuals crushed under the weight of their times. The novel reveals the realities of an oppressive regime, society, and the trials faced by the people, conveying them in an intimate and compelling tone.
Through the story of three generations of a single family, the novel documents 130 years of the darkest chapters of our history. The narrative is told in the voice of Dehqonqul and spans from the Fergana Valley to the Surkhandarya region. The character of Jamoliddin Ketmon represents the simple, sincere, and hardworking Uzbek peasant at the end of the 19th century. The atrocities committed during the Russian conquest of Turkestan and the injustices of imperial officials are revealed through dialogues between General Skobelev and Eshon Umarxon.
The character of Aqrab symbolizes those who sacrificed their lives for the freedom of the homeland, while Dehqonqul embodies millions of people whose lives were consumed by the hardships of cotton policies. The novel also realistically portrays the injustices resulting from the repulsive political campaigns of the 1980s, such as the “Cotton Case” and the “Uzbek Case,” which caused immense suffering to innocent individuals.
Tog‘ay Murod’s narrative style is distinctive and captivating: concise sentences, artistically powerful repetitions, and expressions that highlight the nuances of the Uzbek language draw the reader in. Through the actions, thoughts, and emotions of the characters, their psychological depth is revealed with masterful skill. For this reason, “Fields Left by My Father” is read as a pure national novel that captures the life, endurance, and struggles of the Uzbek people.
The sections detailing women’s lives evoke particular sorrow. Guljamol, Bolxin Momo, Qumri, and Oysuluv, immersed in harsh and colorless labor, illustrate the extreme poverty and cruelty of the period, and the helplessness of people against human-made tragedies. When asked “What is your name?” the answer is “Cotton,” and to “What is your occupation?” the response is “Cotton worker,” reflecting Bolxin Momo’s nearly 80 years spent among cotton fields. Under societal pressure, neglect, and injustice, some women resorted to setting themselves on fire, highlighting how far society had drifted from humanity and how such tragedies were often covered up with silence and false documents. Dehqonqul, adapting to these circumstances, continues to live.
In many households, silence dominated the tragedies faced by women. These gentle women only sought a small measure of love and attention from their husbands. Yet cotton laborers, consumed by daily toil, often did not realize their ancestors’ legacy or the burden placed upon delicate human beings. Consequently, in a country turned into a cotton-producing machine, human tragedies remained hidden, often masked by various pretexts. Some Dehqonquls resisted, while others remained silent.
At the conclusion, Tog‘ay Murod unites all these fates and states:
“I erect a monument to the Uzbek people.”
In conclusion, “Fields Left by My Father” is a monumental novel that embodies the historical memory, suffering, and resilience of the Uzbek people. It does not leave the reader indifferent: it encourages a deeper appreciation of one’s homeland and family and fosters gratitude for every peaceful day.
The article was published without the intervention of the Orfeu editorial team