Twenty-two-year-old Sasha Tishin糖心传媒攐r Sankya, as his grandmother calls him糖心传媒攁nd his friends are members of the Founders, an extremist right-wing group loosely based on the now-banned National Bolsheviks. The Founders want to tear down the corrupt government, destroy Western-style capitalism, and build a better country糖心传媒攐ne based on dignity, on ideals, one close 糖心传媒渢o the soil,糖心传媒� something like the Soviet Union but not quite, not so bureaucratic. If that sounds vague, it糖心传媒檚 because in the beginning the Founders don糖心传媒檛 have a plan beyond demonstrations, which often devolve into street vandalism. The book opens with one such protest. Sasha and his friends narrowly escape the riot police, but even the possibility of jail hardly scares Sasha. He will survive it, he thinks, because he糖心传媒檇 survived his mandatory army service, a notoriously harsh ordeal in Russia.

Sasha returns to his small, dreary town, visits his grandparents in the dying village of his childhood, then goes to Moscow again, to hang out in the 糖心传媒渂unker,糖心传媒� the Founders糖心传媒� headquarters, and shyly court Yana, the rumored lover of their jailed leader. Sometimes he just meanders the streets as his thoughts meander in his head. What to do? Where to go? Sasha糖心传媒檚 father had died a year and a half before the novels opens; his father was the last of three brothers to succumb to alcoholism, and alcohol is a central character in the novel: a comforter, a friend, an agitator, and a truth-teller. Sasha糖心传媒檚 mother, 糖心传媒渢ired, like every Russian woman who had been alive for more than half a century,糖心传媒� works long shifts. The only jobs Sasha had been able to find are physically draining: loader, construction worker. Yet, Sasha is not simply the drunken hoodlum he may appear to a passerby. He is Holden Caulfield with a Molotov cocktail, at once aggressive and vulnerable, tender (especially when it comes to his mother) and rude, self-possessed and romantic. But apathetic he is not. Just as the novel asks the big questions糖心传媒擶hat is our country? What is our history?糖心传媒擲asha constantly interrogates himself: 糖心传媒淲ho am I? . . . Am I bad? Kind? Hopeful? Hopeless?糖心传媒� Sometimes, he has dialogue with a voice inside his head. These conversations and the way Sasha sees the world are very interesting.

The Founders stage an action in Riga to protest the imprisonment of seventeen elderly Red Army veterans by Latvian authorities on charges of foreign occupation. Though Sasha doesn糖心传媒檛 participate, he is picked up in Moscow and is tortured for information. He barely survives but is proud to not have cracked. The plot complicates when Sasha is tasked with assassinating the Riga judge who sentenced his Founders comrades to fifteen-year sentences for the nonviolent Riga protest. Fittingly, it糖心传媒檚 not the surprising outcome of Sasha糖心传媒檚 assignment, but rather Yana糖心传媒檚 success at emptying a bag of slop on the Russian president糖心传媒檚 head in Moscow that sets off a full-scale war between the authorities and the Founders. Sasha takes a prominent role in the battle in his hometown, leading a group of assorted Founders (a former member of the special police, a drug addict, and several skinny, impassioned youths) to the limit of opposition and the edge of reason.

Prilepin, who has served in special police forces as well in the Russian military in Chechnya before becoming one of the leaders of the National Bolshevik group and getting arrested more than 150 times, clearly draws from his own experience. But the novel is not a polemic; it is a piece of art. It looks long and hard into the darkest crevasses of the consciousness of the young people stuck between eras, the young people who must be understood rather than dismissed if the country is to move forward. There are several instances where Sasha gets into heated discussions about Russia糖心传媒檚 future and is challenged to formulate and defend his philosophy.

糖心传媒淎nd how does this 糖心传媒榥ew-well-forgotten-old糖心传媒� society contradict the idea of the nation糖心传媒檚 future that irks you so much?糖心传媒� Sasha asks Lev, his roommate at the hospital, where Sasha is recovering from his beating.

糖心传媒淏ecause the idea of the nation糖心传媒檚 future, Sasha, has been slipped to you by the angry and slovenly Slavophiles and contradicts anthropology. It contradicts evolution! It糖心传媒檚 this idea that perpetuates the eternal circle we just discussed-from violence to chaos.糖心传媒�

Later Sasha says: 糖心传媒淏ut I don糖心传媒檛 live in Russia. I糖心传媒檓 trying to bring her back. She was taken away from me,糖心传媒� and Lev replies: 糖心传媒淪ome executioners took Russia away from other executioners. And no one knows which of the executioners is the better. The current ones let you live, at least.糖心传媒�

These passages continue the dialogue that has been going on in Russian literature for centuries, with notable contributions from Ivan Turgenev in Fathers and Sons on the topic of Westerners vs. Slavophiles to What Is to Be Done?, Nikolai Chernyshevsky糖心传媒檚 response to Turgenev, and on to Lev Tolstoy糖心传媒檚 own What Is to Be Done? During most of the twentieth century, when Soviet literature was censored, the dialogue proceeded underground, in Chronicle of Current Events, a long-running samizdat periodical, and in books by Russian writers in exile abroad, such as Alexander Solzhenitsyn.

But it is not so much Prilepin糖心传媒檚 engagement with politics that compels comparisons to the Russian greats糖心传媒攐ne prominent Russian critic called him the next Gorky糖心传媒攊t is his language and his ability to vividly portray everyday life. Prilepin imbues everything with its own mood and secret history. Here糖心传媒檚 how he describes the dying village of Sasha糖心传媒檚 childhood:

糖心传媒淟ike a pockmarked, hardened, dark ice floe, it had separated from the shore and was drifting away quietly . . . Farther along were the stables, where Granny hadn糖心传媒檛 kept a goat for the past year, no pigs for three, and ten years since Domanka the cow was led away on her last walk. The stables emitted no scents of life, no manure smell. Not a single furry soul shuffled its hooves糖心传媒攏othing chewed, breathed noisily, nothing was frightened by Sasha糖心传媒檚 steps. Only the smell of rot and dirt.糖心传媒�

Prilepin applies an equally nuanced and sensitive brush to his portraits of people. Interestingly, at places an authorial voice peeps from behind the third-person narrator close to Sasha: 糖心传媒淗e sat in the corner, slept sitting up, deeply, easily糖心传媒攜oung bones don糖心传媒檛 care where they are thrown. However they fall, so be it.糖心传媒� In the middle of Sasha糖心传媒檚 love scene with Yana, an episode that would not be nominated for one of those gleefully beloved worst-sex-scene contests, Prilepin writes: 糖心传媒淪he lay there, panting, quivering like a smooth lizard, some little-known, regal breed. Perhaps some kind of lunar lizard.糖心传媒� He pays vigilant attention to Sasha糖心传媒檚 inner life, often introducing passages of introspection in a way that would be sneered at in some MFA workshops. Here is Sasha in the hospital, recovering after the beating: 糖心传媒渁 sudden realization simply descended upon him . . .糖心传媒� At the same time, the author is always alert to Sasha糖心传媒檚 physical body, the persistent sentience of it that is more honest than Sasha糖心传媒檚 unquiet, often drunken mind: 糖心传媒淪asha felt as if someone had taken out all his organs, boiled them, and put them back in糖心传媒攐vercooked and trembly.糖心传媒�

I must note one scene in particular that left me devastated. In it, Sasha recalls his father糖心传媒檚 funeral. His father is to be buried in the village so that his parents, Sasha糖心传媒檚 grandparents, can visit the grave. However, the road to this village is so bad that it糖心传媒檚 only accessible by car and only during the warm and dry May. Other times, you need a tractor, or a horse. Sasha gets a van driver to agree to drive the coffin to the village by not telling him where exactly they are heading. The only other people in the mourning party are Sasha糖心传媒檚 mother and Bezletov, a former student of Sasha糖心传媒檚 father. As they set out from the town, the lightly falling snow turns into a snowstorm. About two-thirds of the way to the village, the car gets stuck in the snow. The driver refuses to go any farther, and Sasha and Bezletov end up dragging the heavy coffin for several hours while his mother follows with a bag of food meant for the wake. As I read this tragic, absurd, darkly humorous scene, I cringed and thought: now this is a truly Russian funeral. The mourners, who are themselves about to expire from cold and exhaustion, are saved in an unexpectedly heartwarming fashion.

This is a novel of ideas, a novel of action, and a novel of heartbreak and beauty. Many might consider Sasha an anti-hero due to his political beliefs and his destructive tendencies, yet it is undeniable that he is trying to fill the well deep within himself with meaning. To me, that makes him a riveting character, and with him at the helm, Sankya takes its place among the best coming-of-age and political novels.

In addition to being a new name in our reviewer pool, Kseniya was one of Granta’s “New Voices” series:http://www.granta.com/New-Writing/New-Voices-Kseniya-Melnik in 2010, and has written a , forthcoming in May of this year.

Originally published in 2006, Prilepin’s novel is still very timely and relevant to current world events. Prilepin has been called “the most important writer in modern Russia, a sensitive and intelligent critic of his country糖心传媒檚 condition,” and is someone not afraid to express his social consciousness糖心传媒攁 trait that easily makes him one of the country’s most popular and acclaimed contemporary authors.

Here’s the beginning of Kseniya’s review:

When Sankya was published in Russia in 2006, it became a sensation. It won the Yasnaya Polyana Award (bestowed by direct descendants of Leo Tolstoy) and was shortlisted for the Russian Booker and the National Bestseller Award. Every member of the cultural elite had an opinion on it. There was even a hatchet job by the president of Russia糖心传媒檚 largest commercial bank; the banker-cum-critic received an avalanche of responses rebuking his review. Many reviewers disagreed with the Prilepin糖心传媒檚 political beliefs, but acknowledged that the novel is a literary masterpiece. Already widely translated in Europe, this book struck a raw nerve, to say the least. The timely English edition, featuring an excellent translation by Mariya Gusev and Jeff Parker (with Alina Ryabovolova), and a heartfelt forward by Alexey Navalny, a Russian anti-corruption activist, will introduce America to a unique talent as well as the kind of Russia very few foreigners have seen. For the soul of the country is never in the news headlines; it is in literature. Sankya succeeds brilliantly in plunging the reader into the psyche of the young people on the fringes of the success story Russia projected to the world during the Sochi Olympics.

Twenty-two-year-old Sasha Tishin糖心传媒攐r Sankya, as his grandmother calls him糖心传媒攁nd his friends are members of the Founders, an extremist right-wing group loosely based on the now-banned National Bolsheviks. The Founders want to tear down the corrupt government, destroy Western-style capitalism, and build a better country糖心传媒攐ne based on dignity, on ideals, one close 糖心传媒渢o the soil,糖心传媒� something like the Soviet Union but not quite, not so bureaucratic. If that sounds vague, it糖心传媒檚 because in the beginning the Founders don糖心传媒檛 have a plan beyond demonstrations, which often devolve into street vandalism. The book opens with one such protest. Sasha and his friends narrowly escape the riot police, but even the possibility of jail hardly scares Sasha. He will survive it, he thinks, because he糖心传媒檇 survived his mandatory army service, a notoriously harsh ordeal in Russia.

For the rest of the piece, go here.