A lover of foreign literature (particularly from Eastern Europe and Russia) Brandy糖心传媒攁 new addition to our reviewer pool糖心传媒攔ecently finished a BA in English Language and Literature at Brock University in St. Catharines, Ontario, and will be starting her MA this fall at Queen’s University, Kingston.

Here’s the beginning of her review:

The publisher糖心传媒檚 blurb for Oleg Pavlov糖心传媒檚 The Matiushin Case promises the prospective reader 糖心传媒渁 Crime and Punishment for today,糖心传媒� the sort of comparison that is almost always guaranteed to do a disservice to both the legendary dead and the ambitious living. Predictably enough, The Matiushin Case is nothing like Crime and Punishment, although anyone familiar with Russian literature can see how Pavlov gamely attempts to tick off certain boxes that are often associated with Serious Russian Themes: the unflinching examination of even the darkest corners of human existence, the exploration of wider social themes and problems through the careful depiction of individual experience, all heralded by a Biblical epigraph糖心传媒斕切拇綔Am I my brother糖心传媒檚 keeper?糖心传媒澨切拇綌to signal the novel糖心传媒檚 soul-searching, philosophical designs. For anyone who loves Russian literature, as I do, all of these elements are entirely welcome, but in Pavlov糖心传媒檚 hands, the results are often mixed.

The Matiushin Case follows the relentlessly miserable life of the titular protagonist, from his troubled childhood in the shadow of his domineering father, Grigorii, and his rebellious elder brother, Yakov, to his experiences as a young man in the Soviet army. Much of the novel糖心传媒檚 plot, such as it is, simply follows Matiushin as he sinks further and further into the deadening routine and violence of army life, first through his initiation and training, then his stint in an army hospital, and on through his life as a prison guard. This led me to consider that a more accurate comparison to Dostoevsky糖心传媒攊f there really has to be one糖心传媒攚ould be to The House of the Dead, that wonderfully strange hybrid of memoir and fiction based on Dostoevsky糖心传媒檚 life in a Siberian prison. This reflects the greatest strength of Pavlov糖心传媒檚 novel, for the impression created by his detailed depictions of Matiushin糖心传媒檚 daily struggles lend a rather haunting and bleak atmosphere to the work as a whole, offering the reader a truly vivid snapshot of army life in the declining years of the USSR.

For the rest of the review, go here

The Matiushin Case follows the relentlessly miserable life of the titular protagonist, from his troubled childhood in the shadow of his domineering father, Grigorii, and his rebellious elder brother, Yakov, to his experiences as a young man in the Soviet army. Much of the novel糖心传媒檚 plot, such as it is, simply follows Matiushin as he sinks further and further into the deadening routine and violence of army life, first through his initiation and training, then his stint in an army hospital, and on through his life as a prison guard. This led me to consider that a more accurate comparison to Dostoevsky糖心传媒攊f there really has to be one糖心传媒攚ould be to The House of the Dead, that wonderfully strange hybrid of memoir and fiction based on Dostoevsky糖心传媒檚 life in a Siberian prison. This reflects the greatest strength of Pavlov糖心传媒檚 novel, for the impression created by his detailed depictions of Matiushin糖心传媒檚 daily struggles lend a rather haunting and bleak atmosphere to the work as a whole, offering the reader a truly vivid snapshot of army life in the declining years of the USSR. Matiushin is not particularly interesting or memorable as a character in and of himself, but the passages in which Pavlov offers insights into Matiushin糖心传媒檚 psychological struggles and emotions within a brutal and decaying system can be powerful, as when a sudden disturbance in the prison zone throws Matiushin and his fellow soldiers into action in the middle of the night:

The strongest feeling of all . . . was that nobody could be killed: that Lady Death, if she existed, would be afraid of so many men, would overshoot and miss her target. [Matiushin] couldn糖心传媒檛 keep up with his thoughts about death, unable to work out if he was dashing towards or running away from it, or what kind of night this was; like an animal, he was swept away by a single, headlong, mighty feeling, a clash of all human impulses糖心传媒攍ove, hate, despair, fear糖心传媒攖hat existed separately in his soul but had suddenly united into one vital, living force, as if another heart had started beating beside his first heart, and Matiushin, who couldn糖心传媒檛 even cope with one life, suddenly had two lives in his chest.

Passages such as this have the power to occasionally redeem the novel糖心传媒檚 sometimes monotonous and repetitive feel, turning the situation of this otherwise colorless and unremarkable young man into something suddenly糖心传媒攁lbeit momentarily糖心传媒攎oving.

The reader is never really offered the same level of insight into the inner workings of any of the other characters, which is one of the shakier aspects of the novel. As its title suggests, the novel is about the case study of Matiushin, whose experiences are, presumably, meant to encapsulate the experiences of countless Soviet army recruits and offer a portrait in miniature of the misery, disintegration, and despair of Soviet life as a whole. With this in mind, it seems fair to entertain the idea that the secondary characters do not have to be compelling or complex in their own right. Yet the problem is that the secondary characters rarely rise above the level of caricature, which can make them糖心传媒攁nd by extension, Matiushin糖心传媒檚 plight糖心传媒攕eem faintly ridiculous instead of tragic. Matiushin糖心传媒檚 father is a walking bundle of all literary Bad Russian Father characteristics rolled into one糖心传媒攁 drunk, a miser, a domestic tyrant糖心传媒攚hose personality seems to fluctuate rather unsteadily between these stereotypes throughout the first fifty pages or so of the novel. A cook at one of the camps behaves like someone straight out of Reefer Madness, whose penchant for marijuana has turned him into a crazed, potentially murderous threat to everyone who crosses his path, including Matiushin: 糖心传媒淗e lay in ambush for Matiushin when they were alone together in the catering block, waiting for moments when he bent down or sat on a stool, and then skipping up to Matiushin from behind and setting the large blade to his throat.糖心传媒� Matiushin糖心传媒檚 fellow soldiers and military superiors tend to blur together into one large mass of coarseness, corruption, and hopelessness. Such cartoonish or vague characterization tends to undermine the self-conscious seriousness of the novel, making this relatively slim text糖心传媒攋ust under 250 pages in my copy糖心传媒攆eel much, much longer and less compelling than it ought to be.

As for the novel糖心传媒檚 Biblical epigraph, I was left with the feeling that Pavlov does not quite manage to develop the novel糖心传媒檚 philosophical pretensions to any successful end, which is one of the reasons why And Other Stories糖心传媒� attempt to equate him with Dostoevsky feels so ill-judged. Dostoevsky could tackle spiritual and philosophical questions with aplomb, effortlessly interweaving them with the individual crises of his characters and illuminating them. Pavlov cannot. The theme of brotherhood and the question of individual and collective guilt and suffering does recur, rather ham-fistedly, throughout the novel, but it ultimately falls flat. The fraternal relationship between Matiushin and Yakov that opens the novel is echoed elsewhere throughout the remainder of the text, as in the relationship between Matiushin and fellow recruit Rebrov, and in the first exchange between Matiushin and Karpovich, but there is something underdeveloped about all of it, and something not quite confident enough in Pavlov糖心传媒檚 handling of it to give the novel a strong thematic foundation.

Nevertheless, The Matiushin Case can and does stand on its own merits, as Pavlov糖心传媒檚 description of Matiushin糖心传媒檚 hellish experiences will prove interesting to anyone with a marked interest in literature from or about the Soviet era. Although the novel糖心传媒檚 execution is flawed, its strengths do suggest that Pavlov, already basking in the glow of significant critical success in his homeland, may have the chance in his future work to find a way of making his fiction match up more seamlessly with his ambitious literary designs.

Simon is a bookseller and freelance reviewer based in Adelaide, Australia, and has written reviews various outlets, including the Australian Book Review.

Sigizmund Krzhizhanovsky糖心传媒攊n addition to having one of the coolest and most Z-heavy names I’ve ever seen糖心传媒攁nd his Autobiography have been hitting a lot of the right button’s lately: in June, it was announced that Autobiography of a Corpse won the , and just a few weeks ago it was announced that the book won the . Congratulations again to everyone involved! And for everyone else . . . what more recommendation could you really need?

Here’s the beginning of Simon’s review:

One of the greatest services糖心传媒攐r disservices, depending on your viewpoint糖心传媒擝ertrand Russell ever performed for popular philosophy was humanizing its biggest thinkers in his History. No longer were they Platonic ideals, the clean-shaven exemplars of the kind of homely truisms that might糖心传媒檝e been found in commonplace books: they had become eccentrics, weirdos, freaks. This was a transformation Russell糖心传媒檚 readers might have felt privileged to witness. Then again, they might have been horrified.

Sigizmund Krzhizhanovsky has done something similar with ideas, both those belonging to Russell糖心传媒檚 eccentrics and those roaming about in other fields. Written between 1922 and 1939, the short stories collected in Autobiography of a Corpse wriggle into the liminal spaces between fiction, reality, and the world of ideas: in fact, there糖心传媒檚 even a story called 糖心传媒淭he Collector of Cracks.糖心传媒�

Krzhizhanovsky is fundamentally concerned with how fiction and reality influence each other, and even though his work might reference a who糖心传媒檚 who of modern and classical philosophy糖心传媒擪ant, Leibniz, Descartes, Hegel, Spinoza, Fichte, Berkeley糖心传媒攈e糖心传媒檚 anything but convinced of their ideas糖心传媒� verity.

For the rest of the review, go here.

Sigizmund Krzhizhanovsky has done something similar with ideas, both those belonging to Russell糖心传媒檚 eccentrics and those roaming about in other fields. Written between 1922 and 1939, the short stories collected in Autobiography of a Corpse wriggle into the liminal spaces between fiction, reality, and the world of ideas: in fact, there糖心传媒檚 even a story called 糖心传媒淭he Collector of Cracks.糖心传媒�

Krzhizhanovsky is fundamentally concerned with how fiction and reality influence each other, and even though his work might reference a who糖心传媒檚 who of modern and classical philosophy糖心传媒擪ant, Leibniz, Descartes, Hegel, Spinoza, Fichte, Berkeley糖心传媒攈e糖心传媒檚 anything but convinced of their ideas糖心传媒� verity. Indeed, this is the only work of fiction I糖心传媒檝e ever read which plays with the possibilities inherent in Leibniz糖心传媒檚 utterly crazy idea of 糖心传媒渨indowless monads糖心传媒�:

Leibniz . . . could see only a world of discrete monads, of ontological solitudes, none of which has windows. If one tries to be more optimistic than the optimist and avow that souls have windows and the ability to open them, then those windows and that ability will turn out to be nailed shut and boarded up, as in an abandoned house. People-monads, too, have a bad name: They are full of ghosts. The most frightening of these is man.

糖心传媒淧eople-monads糖心传媒�! As any reader of this blog would know, Russian literature is thick with them. Krzhizhanovsky won糖心传媒檛 be outdone in the alienation/existential horror department, either:

Man is to man a wolf. No, that糖心传媒檚 not true, that糖心传媒檚 sentimental, lighthearted. No, man is to man a ghost. Only. That糖心传媒檚 more exact. To sink one糖心传媒檚 teeth into another man糖心传媒檚 throat is at least to believe, and that糖心传媒檚 what counts, in another man糖心传媒檚 blood.

Thankfully, though, even when he confronts us with these unpalatable truths Krzhizhanovsky doesn糖心传媒檛 go for the arid humourlessness of a Sartre or a Nietzsche. There糖心传媒檚 a dry comedy running through his work, a sensibility which dares to mock not only Soviet shibboleths, but bureaucracy, religion, and the art world. Another story traces the media frenzy and subsequent national preoccupation which develops, almost by chance, around a man attempting to bite his own elbow.

At times, Krzhizhanovsky糖心传媒檚 foresight is chilling. 糖心传媒淵ellow Coal,糖心传媒� the bitterest of the stories, and the last to be written, in 1939, depicts a society engineered to sustain itself on spite alone. This is a world in which an earnest ethnographer publishes a 糖心传媒淐lassification of Interethnic Hatreds, a two-volume work asserting that humanity should be split into the smallest possible ethnicities so as to produce the maximum 糖心传媒榢inetic spite糖心传媒櫶切拇綕: a confection so eerily prescient that it糖心传媒檚 hard to find it funny.

Krzhizhanovsky糖心传媒檚 commentary on the Russian Orthodox Church, too, is a little more serious糖心传媒攅ven while he explores elsewhere what might糖心传媒檝e happened to Judas糖心传媒檚 thirty pieces of silver after they left his hands:

Through the centuries, without respite, the kopeck candle did its work: A fire would begin to smolder in some small chapel, by an icon stand, then creep down passages, up into rafters, from shed to shed, hurling firebrands from roof to roof; its flaming tongues would leap over the Kremlin糖心传媒檚 stone walls, slither up to the tent roofs of towers and belfries, and send bells crashing down amid the growing clamor of crowds and tocsins. And then cooling ashes and another ant-like building frenzy for five or six years. Because in five or six years the kopeck candle would again set to work.

It would be a mistake, though, to read this collection as just a set of reflections on a particular period in Russian history, or a tongue-in-cheek exploration of some arcane philosophies, or an indictment of the church. It糖心传媒檚 first and foremost a fictional exercise of the highest order: one just as real, and just as delightful, as the best of Borges.

In true Borgesian fashion, when the stock of philosophy starts to thin, Krzhizhanovsky adds a few lashings of folk tales: a set of fingers which detach themselves from their pianist and spend a day wandering the streets of Moscow, or a conversation between a woman糖心传媒檚 lovers糖心传媒� Lilliputian counterparts about the form to be filled out by new arrivals糖心传媒攁ll of whom live together inside her eye.

This lunatic mode wouldn糖心传媒檛 work nearly so well without Joanne Turnbull and Nikolai Formozov糖心传媒檚 supple translation, which manages to convey a vivid sense of Krzhizhanovsky糖心传媒檚 subtle wordplay without undue contortion in the English. Take this passage, a parody of Plato糖心传媒檚 allegory of the cave:

True, the Nots teach their notkins that shadows are cast by things, but if one thinks about this sensibly, then one cannot know exactly if shadows are cast by things or things by shadows, and if one oughtn糖心传媒檛 to cast aside, as pure ostensibilities, Not things, Not shadows, and the Nots themselves with their notional notions.

Funnily enough, ostensibilities abound in the collection糖心传媒檚 final story, 糖心传媒淧ostmark: Moscow.糖心传媒� It糖心传媒檚 an odd addition to the collection: whereas every other story is shorn almost entirely of obvious referents, 糖心传媒淧ostmark: Moscow糖心传媒� bristles with historical figures, Moscow localities糖心传媒攎any of them burnt down or demolished since糖心传媒攁nd obscure artistic movements. In a way, then, Krzhizhanovsky is doing exactly that which his narrator derides: casting a thing (art) with a shadow (life). And what a thing it is!

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.

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.

The edition is slim and aesthetically pleasing; it fits in your jacket pocket, making it perfect for reading on the subway and impressing the people around you with its beauty and your class. Flip it over and you even find endorsements from David Foster Wallace (re: Dostoevsky) and Roberto Bola帽o (re: Hern谩ndez). Sold.

I won糖心传媒檛 compare and contrast the writing and themes from The Crocodile: An Extraordinary Incident to Dostoevsky糖心传媒檚 more famous pieces (The Brothers Karamazov, Crime and Punishment), partly because it糖心传媒檚 been done enough already, and partly because the goal of this book seems to be to juxtapose (or prove connected) the similarly-named stories of two very different authors from two very different literary worlds. In turn, Felisberto isn糖心传媒檛 as well known as Dostoevsky, but literary giants Gabriel Garc铆a M谩rquez, Julio Cort谩zar, and Italo Calvino all credit him as a major influence of their own work.

Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Crocodile: An Extraordinary Incident

Ivan Matveitch and his wife are both ridiculous. In the opening paragraph we learn that Ivan is a cultured man, planning a trip to Europe 糖心传媒渘ot so much for the sake of his health as for the improvement of his mind,糖心传媒� and excited to see a crocodile. Ivan糖心传媒檚 wife, upon seeing the crocodile exclaims 糖心传媒淲hy, I thought it was something different,糖心传媒� clearly disappointed by the lack of a spectacle. The family friend and narrator of the story, Semyon, explains her crocodile-disappointment to the reader: 糖心传媒渕ost probably she thought it was made of diamonds.糖心传媒�

Two pages later Ivan is ingested by the crocodile, where he stays for the remainder of the book, ordering Semyon to do his bidding, making plans for his wife糖心传媒檚 social calendar, imaging his future fame, and criticizing the quality of Russian-made clothing. And while Ivan has no trouble causing Semyon to suffer with multiple requests and insults, he is also considers himself a real humanitarian, deciding not to adjust his position inside the crocodile糖心传媒攊n order to prevent the creature from suffering.

Ivan to Semyon, from inside the crocodile:

糖心传媒淏ut I will prove that even lying like a log糖心传媒攏ay, that only lying like a log one can revolutionize the lot of mankind. All the great ideas and movements of our newspapers and magazines have evidently been the work of men who were lying like logs; that is why they call them divorced from the realities of life 糖心传媒� but what does that matter, their saying that! I am constructing now a complete system of my own, and you wouldn糖心传媒檛 believe how easy it is! You have only to creep into a secluded corner or into a crocodile, to shut your eyes, and you immediately devise a perfect millennium for mankind. When you went to work this afternoon I set to work at once and have already invented three systems, I am now preparing the fourth. It is true that at first one must refute everything that has gone before, but from the crocodile it is so easy to refute it; besides, it all becomes clearer, seen from the inside of a crocodile . . . There are some drawbacks, though small ones, in my position, however; it is somewhat damp here and covered with a sort of slime; moreover, there is rather a smell of India-rubber exactly like the smell of my old galoshes. That is all, there are no other drawbacks.糖心传媒�

Felisberto Hern谩ndez, The Crocodile

In Hern谩ndez糖心传媒檚 story, a pianist turned women糖心传媒檚 hosiery salesmen uses crocodile tears to increase sales during hard times. The tears on demand are likely a reflection of an inner melancholy; New Directions describes the story as a 糖心传媒渉eartbreaker.糖心传媒� Yes, there is something unsettling about the narrator糖心传媒檚 ability to cry on demand, but the recognition that there is something inside of many of us that would prompt us to use the same strategy may be more unnerving than heartbreaking.

糖心传媒淚 longed to leave that shop, that city, that life. I thought about my country and about many other things. And suddenly, just as I was beginning to calm down, I had an idea. What would happen if I started crying right in front of all these people? It struck me as a very violent thing to do, but I糖心传媒檇 been wanting to do something out of the ordinary, to put the world to the test, for a long time. I also needed to prove to myself that I was capable of great violence. And before I could change my mind I sat down in a little chair backed up against the counter and with all those people around me I put my hands to my face and began emitting sobbing noise. Almost simultaneously, a woman let out a loud cry and said, 糖心传媒淎 man is weeping.糖心传媒�

While these two stories have little in common beyond their name, they do offer the reader an opportunity to explore two lesser-known works from influential writers.

Two Crocodiles, as the review also explains, is a short book comprised of two stories糖心传媒攐ne from Dostoevsky, the other from Hern谩ndez糖心传媒攚ith the same title, but with very different contents.

Sara, in turn, is new to the Three Percent fray, and stands out somewhat for her Ph.D. in Public Health (and is an editor for a public health journal). However, she is a great lover of world literature, and is no stranger to the likes of Daniel Sada, Laurent Binet, and Mia Cuoto, to name a few.

Here’s the beginning of Sara’s review:

This pearl from New Directions contains one short story from Russian literary master Fyodor Dostoevsky (translated by Constance Garnett) and one short story from Uruguayan forefather of magical realism Felisberto Hern谩ndez (translated by Esther Allen). Both pieces are entitled 糖心传媒淭he Crocodile,糖心传媒� hence Two Crocodiles.

The edition is slim and aesthetically pleasing; it fits in your jacket pocket, making it perfect for reading on the subway and impressing the people around you with its beauty and your class. Flip it over and you even find endorsements from David Foster Wallace (re: Dostoevsky) and Roberto Bola帽o (re: Hern谩ndez). Sold.

I won糖心传媒檛 compare and contrast the writing and themes from The Crocodile: An Extraordinary Incident to Dostoevsky糖心传媒檚 more famous pieces (The Brothers Karamazov, Crime and Punishment), partly because it糖心传媒檚 been done enough already, and partly because the goal of this book seems to be to juxtapose (or prove connected) the similarly-named stories of two very different authors from two very different literary worlds. In turn, Felisberto isn糖心传媒檛 as well known as Dostoevsky, but literary giants Gabriel Garc铆a M谩rquez, Julio Cort谩zar, and Italo Calvino all credit him as a major influence of their own work.

For the rest of the review, go here.

On March 1, the Council of the Russian Federation backed the Russian President糖心传媒檚 appeal to take exhaustive measures to protect Russians in Ukraine, going as far as the introduction of Russian armed forces onto Ukrainian territory. On that same day, in the regional capitals of Western Ukraine, pro-Russian rallies instigated by city authorities took place. Participants in the rallies in Kharkov, including people who had been with Russian numbers, stormed the regional administration building and beat up the Euromaidan supporters inside, including the famous writer Serhiy Zhadan (he was taken to the hospital with a fractured skull, a concussion, and a possible broken nose). A Russian citizen and resident of Moscow climbed onto the regional administration building and installed a Russian flag.

Officially, the Federation糖心传媒檚 Council is guided by the alleged reports of numerous infringements upon the rights of Russians in Ukraine. If such reports exist, they should be made public and each one thoroughly studied.

We, Russian writers of Kharkov, want our voices to be heard, too: at work and elsewhere, we freely communicate in Russian, even with our Ukrainian colleagues. In any case, the questions under discussion about linguistics or nationality cannot be reasons for military intervention.

We, Russian writers of Kharkov and citizens of Ukraine, don糖心传媒檛 need the military protection of another State. We don糖心传媒檛 want another State糖心传媒攈iding behind the rhetoric of protecting our interests糖心传媒攖o drive its troops into our city and our country, risking the lives of our friends and relatives. All we need is peace and a calm life. And the decision by the Russian Federation and its military invasion is a real threat to this possibility.

糖心传媒� Anastasia Afanasyeva, winner of the 糖心传媒淩ussian Prize糖心传媒� and the 糖心传媒淟iteratuRRentgen糖心传媒� prize, short listed for the 糖心传媒淒ebut糖心传媒� prize

糖心传媒� Dmitry Dedyulin, poet, writer

糖心传媒� Elena Donskaya, writer, teacher

糖心传媒� Inna Zakharova, poet, human rights activist

糖心传媒� Andrei Klimov, writer

糖心传媒� Svetlana Klimova, writer

糖心传媒� Vladislav Kolchigin, poet

糖心传媒� Alexander Kocharyan, poet

糖心传媒� Andrei Krasniashikh, co-editor of 糖心传媒淲riters Union糖心传媒� literary journal, short listed for
Andrei Bely, 糖心传媒淣onconformism,糖心传媒� O.Henry and Daniil Kharms prizes, long listed for 糖心传媒淩ussian Prize糖心传媒�

糖心传媒� Alexandra Mkrtchyan, long listed for 糖心传媒淩ussian Prize糖心传媒�

糖心传媒� Kirill Novikov, poet

糖心传媒� Sergey Pankratov, writer

糖心传媒� Oleg Petrov, poet, writer

糖心传媒� Andrei Pichakhchi, writer, artist

糖心传媒� Irina Skachko, poet, journalist

糖心传媒� Yuri Solomko, short listed for 糖心传媒淟iteratuRRentgen糖心传媒� prize, long listed for 糖心传媒淒ebut糖心传媒� and 糖心传媒淩ussian Prize糖心传媒�

糖心传媒� Tatyana Polozhii, poet

糖心传媒� Yuri Tsaplin, co-editor of 糖心传媒淲riters Union糖心传媒� literary journal, winner of the 2002 糖心传媒淐ultural Hero糖心传媒� award at the national contemporary art festival

糖心传媒� Svetlana Shevchuk, writer

糖心传媒� Victor Shepelev, writer, programmer

糖心传媒� Vladimir Yaskov, poet, translator

[translated by ]

Formerly an Open Letter apprentice and now his Own Man, Will is the mustache director behind Deep Vellum Publishing, a soon-to-be year-old literature in translation house based in Dallas Texas. Will knows incredible amounts about Russian literature, and his review on Polonskaya’s collection of poems is enough to make anyone interested. Here’s the beginning of his review:

Paul Klee糖心传媒檚 Boat, Anzhelina Polonskaya糖心传媒檚 newest bilingual collection of poems available in English, is an emotional journey through the bleakest seasons of the human soul, translated with great nuance by Andrew Wachtel. A former professional ice dancer(!), Polonskaya left the world of dancing and moved back home to the small town where she was born to focus on describing the ice within the human heart. Paul Klee糖心传媒檚 Boat is Polonskaya糖心传媒檚 first collection of poems published in English since her debut A Voice (Northwestern University Press, 2004), also translated by Wachtel. Her poems have been published widely in the meantime, in World Literature Today, Poetry Review, the American Poetry Review and International Poetry Review, Drunken Boat, The Iowa Review, The Massachusetts Review, and Prairie Schooner.

Described as 糖心传媒渁 rising star in Russia,糖心传媒� Polonskaya rose to prominence in the tumultuous post-Soviet 90s. One of the notable things about her is that she does not live in Moscow, but rather in a small town in the outer ring of exurbs outside Moscow. This distance, along with her unique background as an ice dancer with no formal poetry training other than what she read on her own from the great Russian poets, grants her work a sort of outsider status in the Russian poetry scene.
As you make your way through the collection, you will hear echoes of said great Russian poets, none more evident than the anguished voice of Akhmatova, reinvented in Polonskaya糖心传媒檚 tragic 糖心传媒淜URSK: AN ORATORIO REQUIEM,糖心传媒� a cycle of poems written over several years in remembrance of the 118 sailors killed in the sinking of the nuclear-powered Kursk submarine in August 2000. If there were one reason alone to buy this collection of poems, it would be for this requiem. It is tremendous. Powerful. Epic. Timeless. And so, so sad.

For the rest of the review, go here.