having finished this around the time of the aurora shootings, it's hard not to look at the nationwide uproar and wonder why no one knows of the medieval barbarity that consumed Chechnya for so long, killing so many.
I gave this book five stars for a number of reasons. This fictionalized account of the author's experiences as a sniper in a loathed group of saboteurs, a sort of dirty dozen who don't follow the rigid repressive hierarchy of the Russian army, and in return is given the worst, most desperate and in some cases suicidal missions. Therefore, the standard separation between the command and foot soldiers is present, yet in this one, we see how the expertise of the foot soldier gives him a superiority beyond his subjection to dogfaced indignities, as in Marlantes's Matterhorn. As a procedural account, it was outstanding. I have read many war novels and this is the one that most captured the high level of technical experience that is employed: I now know how to run through a forest in the middle of a dark night, how to clear a house, mortar a column, how to sight a rifle for distances, to wear an eyepatch while shooting, why donkeys in enemy convoys are a sign of impending doom. (In my job as an urban librarian, I never know what will come in handy, none of these likely will be useful, but it's nice to know about the donkeys).
I also found it amazing that I was able to sympathize with these men who have no qualms about atrocities, particularly their leader, Rostov, an Afghan war vet who is a hero of sorts even though he believes in leaving monuments of desecrated corpses to foster terror in the enemy. Rostov has a code, albeit twisted; while defending the paratrooper's monuments to regular army officers, he'll sneer to the paratroopers, while he skins an Arab solider alive, that anything other than looking into someone's eyes when you are skinning them is an act of base cowardice. For this and many other examples of insane cruelty, the book often reminded me of Blood Meridian.
Unlike the pure evil of Cormac McCarthy's antagonists, these damned men are still human, and the unsentimental portrayal of them as individuals who are trapped in this war manages to make them human. The author is certain that, if he hadn't been with Rostov, he would have been dead long ago -- especially as Rostov reads situations so well and often disobeys orders which would have resulted in disaster. Rostov is no patriot , and his commentary about the utter corruption of the war and of the Russian government fills the book. On one mission it becomes clear that corrupt colonels are working with the opposition and are willing to sacrifice the unit as part of a cover-up. Rostov is able to use his experience to avoid this murder of their own soldiers.
There's also so much about Russian life, from the lyrics of Russian songs about the war, the Siberian folkways and proverbs ( I will add some of them later -- between this book and Polar Star, I am more interested in Siberians and how they relate to the Russians overall), the fatality of being Russian and thus born into a perennially oppressed existence, of corruption and of commiseration. I was extremely impressed by the author's clear writing and I look forward to his other novels to be translated into English.