Upon reading about this story collection in The New York Times, I was excited to read it, especially because of the passage on page 12 that I've typed out below the book cover. But I soon regretted buying it — should have put a hold on it at the library. I give it 2.5 stars out of 5.
Part of the problem is that as a leftist, I admire what the U.S.S.R. accomplished. Yes, there is the horror of the purges and the gulag, but America has 10% of the world population and 25% of world's prison population; plus, the average American has an unhealthy obsession with money.
One thing that irks me about Iossel is that he prostitutes his Soviet youth for fiction fame. He seems to play a part in the West's propaganda against Russia. I probably wouldn't be so critical if his non-communism stories weren't so forgettable.
Also, the title story runs at about 50 pages. It's so unbelievably overwritten. Should have been at least half the length.
Definitely donating this book the first chance I get. Don't won't it blemishing my bookcase much longer.
"You could always simply kill yourself,"..."As long as there's death, there's hope. That's something always to look forward to. Don't lose heart there's tunnel at the end of the light."...
"too fucking late, Lyokha. Too late. I missed my opportunity to kill myself when the time was right, and now it's too fucking late. Now I'll just have to fucking wait until it fucking happens naturally, in due course of my growing decrepitude. There is nothing to be fucking done about it now. . . . Okay, here's to merciful death."
p. 12
Memory either confirms or refutes the very fact of our own existence.
p. 226
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