Tatyana Tolstaya was born into the Russian aristocratic family of Tolstoy. You might be thinking, as was I, would that happen to be the Leo Tolstoy family? Why in fact it is! I wasn't able to trace down exactly how she is related to Leo, but in several articles it mentions her relationship to the Russian literary giant. Her grandfather, Aleksei Nikolaevich Tolstoi, was also a well respected writer who wrote the book "Peter l". Tolstaya has a literary blue-blood heritage that gives her a leg

Tatyana Tolstaya's The Slynx is a jewel among the list of classics published by New York Review Books, a post-apocalyptic satire taking place two hundred years after “the Blast” in what was the city of Moscow. Human society has reverted to a state more primitive than a village in the darkest age of medieval, dark-age Europe. And that’s understatement - mice provide the main diet and are used for barter and trade; fire is a source of magic forcing people to rely on “stokers” to keep their stoves

N-am obosit și nu voi obosi să recomand prietenilor acest roman fabulos, scris de stră-stră-stră-nepoata lui Lev Nikolaevici Tolstoi. Mă bucur că a apărut o nouă ediție. Am profitat de ocazie și l-am recitit. Îmi păstrez părerea: un astfel de roman se publică o dată la un deceniu. Tatiana Tolstaia se înscrie în tradiția marilor prozatori ruși. Comparația cu Gogol s-a făcut de mult și este cît se poate de îndreptățită. Umorul cărții este demențial.Tolstaia prezintă o societate post-apocaliptică (...

Few books terrify me to the depths of my soul as much as this postapocalytic tale full of bleakly-black humor and dark satire, set amongst the radioactive desolation of Moscow Fyodor-Kuzmichsk - which is sunk low in degradation and regression, with economy dependent on mice-hunting, with a lone half-finished statue of Pushkin pushkin stuck in between vegetable plots, with ignorance and superstition ruling it all. Welcome to the world of The Slynx!What makes this book so terrifying to me is how a...

i have a long and troubled relationship with the russians. for years i didn't want to read them because i felt that i wouldn't understand them with their troubled political history, their interchangeable names, their fucking ability to endure that is so intimidating and making-me-small-feeling. and then i read bulgakov. and i felt a little more confident...then i got a little older and i thought...maybe i'm ready for some dostoevsky...and then i wondered what i had been so worried about, because...

No matter which way you look at it, The Slynx is a strange and furtive creature. Concocted by an obscure descendant of one of the Greats, this beast possesses a significance we instinctively fear. We feel it lodged in our bones, we feel it slithering between the tiny hairs on our arms and on the back of our necks, we feel it gnawing at the base of our minds, we feel it cocooning in our hearts. Some brave readers set out on the expedition to find its lair. A few came back, wide-eyed with wonder a...

This exceptional little pearl should go straight atop your reading list, knocking off that willowy story collection, those fat-arsed historical doorstoppers, and that free verse thing carved into tree bark. Get rid of them all. Put them in a glorious bonfire and read this instead.The granddaughter of Leo T has all the talent of her antecedent, cribbing also the mordant wit of Bulgakov, the lyrical euphony of Nabokov, the despairing glamour of Zamyatin. The Slynx is a first-rate novel on all fron...

Prospero Kitaplığı dizimizin yeni kitabı. Çok yakında, "BÖCÜ" adıyla Eyüp Karakuş'un Rusça aslından çevirisiyle yayımlayacağız.

Wow i don't think a book has ever made me laugh this hard before. Endlessly clever writing. Extremely bleak but it's never too much so.Really stands out in the post-apocalyptic genre.

Let him stand there strong and safe, his legs in chains, head in the clouds, his face to the south, to the endless steppe, to the far-off dark blue seas. I am absolutely convinced that everyone must read this book. Unfortunately, unlike that other book I said the same of, Les Misérables, I have no great moral undertakings or social justice to spur readers forward with. No musical either. Not even a movie. Instead, I have an old review, a few big name references, and ah yes. Logos. Lots of tha

The Pace of Modern Life [xkcd] -- In 1871, someone expressed concern about how the art of letter-writing was fast dying out. In 1895, someone was worried about how the hurry and excitement of modern life was causing mental and nervous degeneration. In 1907, there was concern about every individual's head being buried in a magazine while they sat together as a family. Now a days, of course, we hear about the curse of the smartphones, 140 character limit on communication and dwindling inter-person...

Minunat roman! O distopie ce se petrece într-un loc care cu 200 de ani în urmă purtase numele de Moscova. Mi-a plăcut mult stilul Tatianei Tolstaia, strănepoată a lui Lev Tolstoi; oralitatea proaspătă, imaginația debordantă și mai ales capacitatea incredibilă de a reda tragicomicul. Să te tot amuzi când şoarecii sunt monedă de schimb, că tot ei, fierţi în şapte ape, fac o supă comestibilă, sau prăjiţi sunt o delicatesă rară, nu prea pare ușor. Dar dacă o citeşti pe Tolstaia povestind, cu greu p...

Šo grāmatu pirmoreiz izlasīju pirms diviem gadiem, pirms pašas pandēmijas - patika, ļoti patika. Vēl nodomāju, žēl, ka tā lasāma tikai krieviski un diez vai tulkotājam izdotos pārnest visu tās kolorītu mūsu mēlē. Tas būtu tikpat kā mēģināt pēc neīstu ugurķēnu saēšanās mēģināt saprast koceni. Tādēļ biju patīkami pārsteigts, kad uzzināju par izdevniecības Prometejs (Lai slava viņiem!) plāniem izdot šo grāmatu latviski. Nācās izlasīt vēlreiz latviski, pat neskatoties uz to, ka man vēl mājās ir pali...

A feeling of desolation pervades the atmosphere of the post-apocalyptic world in which 'The Slynx' is set; a world of drudgery and paranoia, of bleakness beneath which lurks a violence and insurrection as what we would loosely describe as the protagonist-Benedikt develops a sense of self-awareness via the books he reads; snatches of Anna Karenina and her realisation of the shallow emptiness of society, of the subtle sadness and dimpled beauty of Chekhov, of the indescribable joy of holding a boo...

Visas mazas pelītes pušķīti sien astītē! Vai arī viņu astītes sien pušķītī - kā nu sanāk.Šo grāmatu piemeklēja Grāmatu kluba lāsts - kad kādu grāmatu tik šausmīgi saliela, tad ekspektācijas izaug pārāk... Nu tādas, kādām pati grāmata dažreiz netiek līdzi. Nav jau arī tā, ka esmu dikti vīlusies, bet es visu grāmatas lasīšanas laiku kaut ko gaidīju un gaidīju, bet tā arī nesagaidīju. Laikam kaut kādu Lielo Notikumu, kas nāks tad, kad Beņa atklās kādu milzu grāmatu slēptuvi, kāda Grāmata atvērs viņ...

Besides the meaning of the word "horripilating" ("the erection of hairs on the skin due to cold, fear or excitement"), found on the chocolate-and-lime backmatter of this book's NYRB edition, reading Tolstoya's vision of civilization's hilarious, underwhelming ashes gave me a feeling of gratitude, and also anger that the ostensible genre of this book will allow people to compare it to mechanic nightmares like 1984 and Animal Farm, or even the killer, terrorizing Road. But Russians don't do genre

I would give ten stars to this book, if I could. It is innovative, funny and frightening and I loved it.The title of the book, Slynx, is an invented word. There are many such words in this book set up in a post-apocalyptic Moscow, two hundred years after civilization ended in an event known as the Blast. People born after the Blast are deprived of any contemporary commodities and live in a wild land, most of them marked by mutations which they call Consequences. They live mostly on mice and use

Distopie + umor + parabola = Genialitate!Tu, Carte! Numai tu nu înşeli, nu loveşti, nu superi, nu părăseşti! Eşti liniştită, dar râzi, ţipi, cânţi;eşti supusă, dar uimeşti, aţâţi, ademeneşti; eşti mică, dar în tine sunt popoare fără număr; un pumn de litere, dar, dacă vrei, zăpăceşti pe oricine, îl învârţi cum vrei, îl încurci, faci lacrimile să ţâşnească, tai răsuflarea, sufletul întreg nu e decât o pânză ce flutură în vânt, face valuri, dă din aripi! Şi în piept parcă ti se zvârcoleşte o senza...

А вот плохо ты читал! Тянет дед репку, а вытянуть не может. Позвал бабку. Тянут-потянут, вытянуть не могут. Еще других позвали. Без толку. Позвали мышку — и вытянули репку. Как сие понимать? А так и понимать, что без мыши — никуда. Мышь — наша опора!Grāmata ir tik daudzslāņaina, ka, iespējams, esmu apjautusi tikai daļu no tiem. Kad ir aizšķirta pēdējā lappuse, šķiet, ka varētu parunāt gan par krievu dvēseli, gan krievu valodu, gan par inteliģenci un valsts iekārtu, gan par neizglītotību un to, k...

Krievijas pilsētā (bijušā Maskavā) pirms 200 gadiem ir noticis sprādziens un viss cilvēku dzīvē ir mainījies. Galvenais šo jauno cilvēku sauklis "Peles ir mūsu viss!". Peles or ēdiens, apģērbs, iztikas nodrošinātājs. Sprādziena rezultātā ir notikušas izmanaiņas. Cilvēki ir mutējuši, vienam ir žaunas, citam aste vai galva noklāta ar sekstēm. Margināļi vispār kļuvuši par teju pusdzīvniekiem, kuri velk ratus, brīvajā laikā dzerstās un spēlē kārtis. Ir vēl Vecajie,kuri atceras pirmssprādziena laikus...

Here is a paragraph from this book:After the entrance there were more corridors and the sweet smell grew nearer. Glancing upward, Benedikt clasped his hands: books! The shelves were packed with books! Lord Almighty! Saints alive! his knees gave way, he trembled and whined softly: you couldn't read them all in a whole lifetime! A forest of pages, an endless, indiscriminate blizzard, uncounted! Ah...! Ah!!! Aaaaa! Maybe... just maybe... somewhere here... maybe the secret book is here somewhere! Th...

Muhtemelen daha düzgün bir çeviri ile okumuş olsaydım kitabı daha akıcı, daha kendimi vererek okur ve dolayısıyla daha çok severdim. Ancak benim okuduğum Eyüp Karakuş çevirisi hiç olmamış. Başta çevirmenin not olarak düştüğü şekilde, tahrif edilmiş orjinal metni şiveli bir Türkçeye çevirmeyi uygun görmüş. Şimcik, heç, ossun gibi, Türkçede belli yörelere ait bu kelimeler ile metin ciddi bir odaklanma ve içine girme sorunları oluşturuyor. Tüm referansları ile tamamen Rus bir romanı Anadolu lehçesi...

tatyana tolstaya’dan aklı hayali alan, acayip yaratıcı, bir patlama sonrası rusya distopyası. patlama tabii ki nükleer patlama, sondaki yazılış tarihine bakarsak da çernobil sonrası başlanmış kitap yazılmaya.moskova’da geçiyor roman ki adı tiranların adı artık şehirlerin, bizimkinin adı fyodor-kuzmiç. patlama sonrası nasıl olduysa tekrar taş devrine dönmüş ruslar. ateş yeni bulunmuş, sadece fare yiyor insanlar, pek çok hayvanı, nesneyi bilmiyorlar. eskileri bilip de hatırlayan 300’lük ihtiyarlar...

It took me 100 pages to fall in love with this book. At first I was confused by the second-person narrative butting in all the time, and who was telling this story anyway, Benedikt or a brother or who? And the language was so basic and primitive and there was too much text about catching mice and cooking mice and eating mice and trading mice. And what had happened to Tolstoya's dazzling lyrical style of writing?And then around page 100, Benedikt escapes poverty, his basic hut, his mice for dinne...

Labi, ka sižets netraucēja pastaigāties pa Fjodorkuzmičku, iepazīt tās brīnumus, iedzīvotājus un valodu

«...Как же нет? А чем же говоришь, чем плачешь, какими словами боишься,какими кричишь во сне? Разве не бродят в тебе ночные крики, глуховатое вечернее бормоталово, свежий утренний взвизг? Вот же оно, слово, — не узнал? — вот же оно корячится в тебе, рвется вон! Это оно! Это твое! Так из дерева, из камня, из коряги силится, тщится наружу глухой, желудочный, нутряной мык и нык, — извивается обрубок языка, раздуты в муке вырванные ноздри. Так гуняво гундосят заколдованные, побитые, скрюченные, с бе...

Bir nükleer patlama sonrası uzak bir gelecekte geçiyor. Hayatta kalabilenle dünya devam ediyor ama insanlık değişmiş, farklı yaratıklar (böcü) ortaya çıkmış.İnsanlık geri gittiği için dil değişmiş kelimeler farklılaşmış. Yazar bir de ağırlıklı yöresel dille yazmış.Ancak Rusya'nın yer yer Ege yer yer Akdeniz ağzı konuşulan bölgesinde olmak çoğu zaman yordu. Çeviriyle alakalı tamamen..."Ha ben şindi gösteririn sağa heğitimi! Gayışı yidin mi görün gününü! Oğluna da köpek adı godun zaten, tüm köye r...

Moscow. Some 200 years after "the Blast", a vague sort of accident that turns life as we know it into a post-apocalyptic wasteland. Most of the characters don't even seem to know what "the Blast" was, or what life was like before it occurred, or how to return to a civilized life. They are controlled by their government now (oh, how I love you, Russian literature) under the strict ruling of the tyrant, Fyodor Kuzmich, Glorybe. His decrees are law, and Freethinkers are not allowed - anyone caught

(Full review can be found at the Chicago Center for Literature and Photography [cclapcenter.com].)Ah, those Russian writers -- those crazy, drunken, angst-filled, delightful Russian writers! Mention the phrase "Russian literature" to most Americans, and you're likely to see the same mental images appear again and again; the dense books, the heavy symbolism, the perverse dark humor, and of course the national introspection, always the national introspection, as inherent a part of Russian culture