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Mendeleev Rock: Two Short Novels from Debut
These two novels by Debut Prize finalists present typical provincial towns in central Russia and a gallery of modern-day types: radically minded youths, ruthless thugs, drunken intellectuals, the local elite, and failed fortune seekers. The heroes are yearning for faraway glamorous cities and trying to find their identities. They suffer through various weird misadventures, but for many readers their tales may be a survival guide. A vivid portrait of the younger generation in today's Russia: stunned by their first painful contacts with harsh reality. The authors will present the book at BEA 2011 in New York.
349 pages, Paperback
First published September 27, 2011
5 people want to read
About the author
Andrei Kuzechkin
9 books1 followerAndrei Kuzechkin (russian: Андрей Кузечкин) was born in Bor, satellite of Gorky (currently - Nizhny Novgorod).
Writer, leader of rock-band, translator and librarian. Started to publish in 1993 in "Borskaya Pravda" newspaper.
His first novel, "Mendeleev-rock" (2007), inspired by the musical life of typical provincial towns in central Russia.
Writer, leader of rock-band, translator and librarian. Started to publish in 1993 in "Borskaya Pravda" newspaper.
His first novel, "Mendeleev-rock" (2007), inspired by the musical life of typical provincial towns in central Russia.
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Displaying 1 of 1 review
January 5, 2015
I'm reading the second novella "Rooftop Anesthesia," since it has to do with "skywalking," a trend I just read about in the LA Times, which I'm trying to understand.
http://www.latimes.com/news/nationwor...
Lonely, solitary Peter escapes from the urban summer heat and finds self-worth by climbing up empty buildings and reveling in the lights and views above the city -- sights no one ever sees from such heights, but which "urbanites" pass every day down below. His hobby becomes a sport, he gets carried away with it, it gets carried away from him. Everything changes: from "blithe fury" to "blind infinity."
This is interesting, current, modern, and the evolution of this one character is skillfully written and poetic at times. The hot, city summer is certainly different from the usual Russian winters I read about in lots of other novels. This novella is just different.
I set off, and every step was the first. I imagined what I looked like and almost laughed -- the picture seemed so fantastic. Like a man on the moon, I walked across an uninhabited grey desert absolutely alone, with the lights of the city shining around me and up above -- the stars. And all this had been so close! How often I had walked past it and never suspected that a different world began only a few meters away. A world that wasn't like the day; a world where everything was different; a world where it was legitimate to be solitary.
It's easy to get public exposure. It's much harder to become interesting.
What you don't control in yourself is what makes you special.
I'm not feeling nervous any longer. It turns out no one's really interested in us. The urbanites couldn't care. That changes the night. The solitude disappears.
If we don't have to hide, we're part of society, right?
He tried to conceal his smile, but it kept rising to the surface, like a little yellow plastic duck in foamy water.
There are various ways of fitting into society. Sometimes even by thinking that you're defying it.
But when you accept that you're normal, the defeats become painful.
It was me she was ashamed of that time in the club, not Nemo.
Her slim hands.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'd like to be different. Not become different -- that's impossible -- but be different. To smile in the orange air of July; to look through the patterned glass at the hot street; at our street.
http://www.latimes.com/news/nationwor...
Lonely, solitary Peter escapes from the urban summer heat and finds self-worth by climbing up empty buildings and reveling in the lights and views above the city -- sights no one ever sees from such heights, but which "urbanites" pass every day down below. His hobby becomes a sport, he gets carried away with it, it gets carried away from him. Everything changes: from "blithe fury" to "blind infinity."
This is interesting, current, modern, and the evolution of this one character is skillfully written and poetic at times. The hot, city summer is certainly different from the usual Russian winters I read about in lots of other novels. This novella is just different.
I set off, and every step was the first. I imagined what I looked like and almost laughed -- the picture seemed so fantastic. Like a man on the moon, I walked across an uninhabited grey desert absolutely alone, with the lights of the city shining around me and up above -- the stars. And all this had been so close! How often I had walked past it and never suspected that a different world began only a few meters away. A world that wasn't like the day; a world where everything was different; a world where it was legitimate to be solitary.
It's easy to get public exposure. It's much harder to become interesting.
What you don't control in yourself is what makes you special.
I'm not feeling nervous any longer. It turns out no one's really interested in us. The urbanites couldn't care. That changes the night. The solitude disappears.
If we don't have to hide, we're part of society, right?
He tried to conceal his smile, but it kept rising to the surface, like a little yellow plastic duck in foamy water.
There are various ways of fitting into society. Sometimes even by thinking that you're defying it.
But when you accept that you're normal, the defeats become painful.
It was me she was ashamed of that time in the club, not Nemo.
Her slim hands.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'd like to be different. Not become different -- that's impossible -- but be different. To smile in the orange air of July; to look through the patterned glass at the hot street; at our street.
Displaying 1 of 1 review