Böceklerin Yaşamı

by Victor Pelevin, Tuncay Uğurlu (Translator)

Duyargaları tüm tehlikelere açık karıncalar, iki dirhem bir çekirdek kızböcekleri, kozasında kıvranan krizalitler ve ışığa uçan pervaneler... Hepsi de yeni dünyanın vaat ettiği ışıltılı geleceği beklerken çoğalan zamanın, gitgide seyrelen bir irtifanın sakinleri... Sovyetler'in yıkılmasından sonraki Rus toplumunun açmazlarından beslenen görkemli ve doyumsuz bir anlatı. Arthur ve Nataşa'dan Gregor Samsa'ya, Pelevin'den Kafka'ya sıkı bir selam!

Genres: Fiction, Russia, Russian Literature, Fantasy, Magical Realism, Short Stories, Contemporary

178 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1993

About the author

Victor Olegovich Pelevin is a Russian fiction writer. His books usually carry the outward conventions of the science fiction genre, but are used to construct involved, multi-layered postmodernist texts, fusing together elements of pop culture and esoteric philosophies. Some critics relate his prose to the New Sincerity and New Realism literary movements.

RU: Виктор Пелевин

Reviews

[Lisa · Rating 5 out of 5]

Future Nobel, maybe? As part of the Academy clearly are embracing their inner insects?

As I am reading two other novels by Victor Pelevin at the same time right now, I am trying to put my thoughts on "The Life Of Insects" into order. Whoever is familiar with his writing would probably now tell me that it is a very unwise choice to read several of the stories simultaneously, as one alone is complex enough. And I agree. But just like the characters in Pelevin's books, my reading self acts on impulses and is prone to literary accidents, so here I am, in the confusing landscape of surrealistic Russia - a place that is quite foreign to me even it its most realistic description!

"The Life of Insects" is a challenging read at times, as the characters constantly swap between being human and insects of various kinds. Once I had accepted that, in much the same fatalistic way that the characters themselves accept it, I loved every turn of the story. Despite the Kafkaesque metamorphoses, it has very realistic story lines, showing the different facets of life in a dysfunctional society, with people in complicated relationships. I sympathised with the predicaments of insects dying in strange accidents, and I understood their need to dig burrows and lock out the world.

The death scene of one of the characters is highly dramatic and very touching, despite the inevitable comical aspects:

"A small crowd had gathered by one of the tables, and a single glance was enough for them to see that something unpleasant had happened. Sam turned pale and ran on ahead. Elbowing aside the idle spectators, he squeezed his way through, and then froze.
Hanging from the edge of the table and swaying in the wind was a narrow strip of fly-paper. There were several small leaves and pieces of paper stuck to it, and hanging in the very centre, with her head already slumped forward in exhaustion, was Natasha. Her wings were stuck flat against the tacky surface, and they were already permeated with its poisonous slime."

In her death, Natasha merges human and insect identities into one.

The scene is closing with a busy-body pushing the mourning Sam aside:

"Let me through, please", the figure repeated. "And if you're feeling sad, try re-reading page forty-eight."

Following the character's instruction would put the reader into a repetitive vicious circle, reliving the different stages of the characters in their insect and human forms again. In all likelihood, one would identify even more with Natasha during the second reading, so her death scene would make the reader even more sad, and obliged to return to page 48 yet again.

This is what I learned from the novel: people are at odds with the different parts of their identities, their official and secret nature. They can never feel completely safe, as chance meetings and silly accidents await them around every corner. There is no real trust, as the world is in a state of constant change, and people adopt strange methods to survive - for a while. In a way, it describes the Post-Soviet anxiety of a people deprived of an overarching structure quite realistically, and with brilliant humour and sadness.

It is not a book for everyone, but if you like Marquez, Kafka, George Orwell and other masters of absurd realism, "The Life of Insects" adds a nuance, and leaves a bitter-sweet feeling of not quite having understood what happened, but having enjoyed it anyway.

I'll be on page 48 if you are looking for me!

[Maziyar Yf · Rating 4 out of 5]

ویکتور پلوین نویسنده روس است که به خاطر رمان‌های طنز و گزنده‌اش که به مسائلی مانند پوچ‌گرایی، معنای زندگی، و هویت در دنیای مدرن می‌پردازند، شهرت دارد . یکی از شاخص ترین آثار او کتاب زندگی حشرات یا عنوانی که ناشر برای آن انتخاب کرده زندگی حشره ای ایست . او در این کتاب با استفاده از طنزی سیاه و تصاویری سورئال به کاوش در مورد مضامین پیچیده‌ای مانند پوچی، نقد اجتماعی و ماهیت انسان پرداخته .
کتاب پلوین با یک غافل گیری بزرگ شروع می شود ، در حالی که دو فرد روس ، به استقبال فردی آمریکایی آمده اند و پس از خوش آمد گویی و معارفه ، خواننده ناگهان متوجه می شود که آنها در حقیقت پشه بوده و پشه آمریکایی برای تجارت به روسیه آمده ! کتاب پلوین سرشار از این شگفتی هاست ، حشراتی که نقش انسان ها را به عهده دارند ، همانند آنان سرگرم کار ، تجارت ، تفریح و گفت و گوهای فلسفی هستند . پلوین چنین جهانی آفریده ، جهانی که درآن حشرات هم از زندگی و کار بی وقفه ، دچار خستگی روحی و ناامیدی شده و از آن سرخورده می شوند .
نویسنده با جزئیات تفاوت میان دنیای سرمایه داری و جهان ازاد با دنیا تازه سقوط کرده کمونیستی را ترسیم کرده ، یکی از جالب ترین این تفاوت ها ، همان داستان اول و جهان پشه ای ایست ، سام که از آمریکا آمده ، بال های بهتری نسبت به پشه های روس دارد . البته این که پشه آمریکایی که از هر فرصتی هم برای نوشیدن خون روس ها استفاده می کند ، همنام عمو سام ، نماد سرمایه داری ایست نشانه دیگری از نبوغ نویسنده در آمیختن طنز و سیاست با هم است .
پلوین از روایت غیر خطی در کتاب خود استفاده کرده ، او به طور مداوم و البته با استادی بین خطوط زمانی مختلف و جابجا می‌شود. این امر می‌تواند خواننده را در ابتدا گیج کند، اما در نهایت به ایجاد تصویری عمیق‌تر و پیچیده‌تر از دنیای حشرات و جامعه انسانی کمک می‌کند . نویسنده هم چنین داستان های خود را از دیدگاه شخصیت‌های مختلف روایت کرده، و این گونه به خواننده اجازه داده تا دنیای شگفت انگیز داستان را از زوایای مختلف ببیند. این امر به ایجاد تنوع و عمق در داستان کمک می‌کند .
یکی از جالب ترین شخصیت های کتاب مارینا ست ، اوکه مورچه‌ای بالدار و ملبس به دامنی جین و یک جفت کفش پاشنه‌بلند قرمزرنگ است حضوری پر رنگ در کتاب دارد ، در حقیقت نویسنده به کمک داستان مارینا و فرآیند تخم گذاری او ، داستان او را با داستان سم ، پشه توریست آمریکایی پیوند می دهد و البته این گونه علاقه حشرات جوان روسی به رفتن به آمریکا را هم نشان می دهد ، زیرا در وطن آنها حقوق حشرات رعایت نمی شود و استفاده از د د ت هم حد و مرزی ندارد !
یکی دیگر از قسمت های جالب ، مربوط به دو شب پره میتیا و دیما ست که گرچه سرگردانند اما در پی نورند و رهایی و در خلال سفر سخت خود از ارسطو و افلاطون سخن می گویند ، گویی که نویسنده فلسفه را نجات بخش رهایی از تاریکی و رسیدن به نور می داند .
گویا نویسنده نظر چندان مثبتی نسبت به مهاجرت هم ندارد ، نماد کارگر مهاجر در کتاب او سوسکی است که با کندن زمین سخت سفارت آمریکا ، سرانجام به قسمت ویزا و مهاجرت رسیده و سر انجام به آمریکا مهاجرت می کند . اما چیزی در دنیای سوسک عوض نمی شود . او هم چنان محکوم است به کندن و کندن و کار بی وقفه .
دنیای دیوانه واری که پلوین آفریده ، گرچه اندکی ترسناک و چندش آور و البته سیاه و تاریک است ، اما آن را تنها می توان ستود . داستان او با شخصیت سازی قوی که خواننده را به همدردی با حشراتی مانند سوسک و مگس وادار کرده هم سیاسی است و هم تخیلی و هم طنزی سیاه و قوی دارد . او این گونه و با استفاده از عنصر طنز و نبوغ و خلاقیت شگفت انگیز خود توانسته روسیه پس از سقوط رژیم کمونیستی و روحیه مردمان آن همراه با حسرت ها و آرزوهایشان ، به تصویر بکشد .

[Mohammad Hrabal · Rating 4 out of 5]

نثر پلوین را به‌ سختی می‌توان به یکی از سنت‌های ادبی موجود نسبت داد. برخی منتقدان ادبی با توجه به نشانه‌های ظاهری کار او (مثل مضامین بینامتنی، ناپیوستگی، رمزگذاری، کلاژ و داستان سرایی) او را از زمره اردوی پست‌ مدرنیست‌ها می‌دانند. پسگفتار. ورا ژارکوا. صفحه ۲۲۹ کتاب
نقد اجتماعی در آثار پلوین جایگاه ویژه‌ای دارد. او در آثار متقدم خود به نقد تند نظام شوروی و ایدئولوژی کمونیستی می‌پردازد و خشونت معنوی و دروغ را شاخصه اصلی اسطوره بزرگ شوروی می‌داند و در برابر آن آزادی درونی فردی را قرار می‌دهد، آزادی‌ای که هر فرد در درون خود می‌تواند به آن دست یابد. پلوین در آثار متأخرش، در پی مشکلاتی که با دولت پساشوروی پیدا کرد و در پی مهاجرتش به آمریکا، به انتقادهای تند از نظام سرمایه‌داری حاکم بر جهان پرداخت. او نظام پساشوروی را که تلاش می‌کند سبک زندگی «غربی» را بپذیرد، مصرف گرا و خالی از اخلاق و معنویت می‌داند پلوین با صراحت، بحران جهان امروز را بحران هستی‌شناختی می‌داند. پسگفتار. ورا ژارکوا. صفحه ۲۳۰ کتاب
اما واقعیت چیست؟ پلوین در «اومون‌را» به‌ صراحت می‌گوید واقعیت چیزی جز تصور فردی یا جمعی ما از آن نیست. او در رمان «دیده‌بان» (۲۰۱۵) می‌نویسد: «اگر یک توهم را به‌ طور مکرر به چند نفر القا کنیم، طوری که آنها کاملاً در آن شریک شوند، این توهم برای آنها نه یک واقعیت شخصی که واقعیت عینی خواهد شد. واقعیتی که به افراد هویت جمعی می‌بخشد. افراد با یکدیگر معاشرت می‌کنند و از توهمی که دارند گفتگو می‌کنند و با هر فکر و هر کلامی به آن توهم استحکام بیشتری می‌بخشند. هرچه آنها به حقیقت آن مطمئن‌تر شوند دنیای جدید جمعی شان پایدارتر خواهد شد.» پسگفتار. ورا ژارکوا. صفحه ۲۳۵ کتاب
ویکتور پلوین پس‌ از انتشار رمان «تی» (۲۰۰۹) در مصاحبه‌ای چنین می‌گوید: «تمام ادیان و تعالیم معنوی در بسیاری موارد با هم مجادله دارند، اما در یک چیز با هم مشترک‌اند، اینکه نمی‌توان به انسان توضیح داد خدا چیست. آنها تنها کانسپتی ارائه می‌دهند که خود بار ذهنی انسان می‌شود، ولی شناختی در پی ندارد. آنها چمدان ما را با خرت‌ و پرت بیهوده سنگین‌تر می‌کنند و ما آن را با خود تا گور می‌کشیم.» پسگفتار. ورا ژارکوا. صفحه‌ی ۲۳۷ کتاب
ناگهان کریمه، از آن استراحتگاه پزشکی روزانه، به ناحیه‌ای در رم باستان تبدیل می‌شود و در وجودت احساس ملموس و وصف‌ ناشدنی کسی زنده می‌شود که زمانی روی خاک باستانی می‌ایستاده و به جیر جیر زنجره‌ها گوش می‌سپرده و بی‌ آنکه به چیزی فکر کند به آسمان نگاه می‌کرده است؛ سرو های کشیده و باریک اندام، انگار ستون‌های به‌ جا مانده از عمارت‌هایی‌ست، که دیرزمانی پیش از این تخریب شده‌اند. دریا هم همان صدایی را می‌دهد که آن‌ وقت‌ها. و تو پیش‌ از اینکه گوی سرگین‌ات را به جلو هل دهی، درست در لحظه‌ای خاص، درک می‌کنی که تا کجا زندگی رازآلود و دست‌ نیافتنی‌ست و تا چه اندازه آنچه را که ما شهرت و سعادت و برتری می‌نامیم، می‌تواند شکننده و پوشالی باشد. صفحه ۵۱ کتاب
جیرجیر کنان حکایت کرد و نالید که زندگی‌اش را بیهوده تلف کرده… و این‌که اصلاً نمی‌شود زندگی را بیهوده صرف نکرد… و این‌که مویه کردن بر همه‌ی اینها هم در کل بی‌معنا و بیهوده است. صفحه‌ی ۱۹۱ کتاب
​

[StefanP · Rating 5 out of 5]

Na nebu nikada nema nikakvih promjena, i ma kako da se grozni oblaci spuste nad Moskvom u praznične dane, visoko iznad njih uvijek svijetli to čisto viječno plavetnilo.

Vrlo prijatno čitanje Peljevina. Ovaj roman bi mogao poslužiti kao svojevrsni putokaz za one koji budu pisali o društveno-političkom ambijentu, a da su pritom cenzurisani. Život insekata je vrlo otkačen roman, pun humorističnih doskočica i egzaktno pokazuje veličinu prirode spram ljudskog bića. Sva zebnja, strepnja i na kraju strava sa kojom se čovjek suočava prikazana je u svakodnevnom ponašanju insekata. Na primjer, mravi su robovlasnici, često se i čovjek tako ponaša. Roman je sastavljen od više priča gdje svaka od njih ima neku svoju inventivnost. Svaka stranica nosi podozrenje koje Peljevin koristi kao pribježište. Njegov svijet je prečesto popunjen fatazmagorijama koje se obrću od slučaja do slučaja. Zanimljivo je bilo hvatati taj prelaz čovjeka u insekta i obrnuto. Kako se u pojedinim dijalozima to skromno osjeća. Peljevin je kroz putovanje insekata iz dijelića dolazio do cijeline, a potom pokušao da uhvati i ukopča suštinu te ostvarene cijeline. Možda bi takva cijelina bila jedan Skarabej.

[Voja · Rating 3 out of 5]

U svom satiričnom, komičnom, kafkijanskom, grotesknom, postmodernističkom romanu pod naslovom „život insekata“, Viktor Peljevin stvara jedan iščašeni svet magičnog realizma u kom su, u maniru filozofskog shvatanja paralelizma kao psihičkog i fizičkog međusobnog i uporednog procesa, protagonisti u isto vreme i ljudi i insekti. Za razliku od drugih dela, metamorfoza u ovom romanu nije proces koji se odvija, već je liminalni prostor konstanta, zbog čega se preobražaj događa iznenada, bez ikakve začuđenosti samih likova povodom metamorfoze koju su doživeli. U tom kontekstu, sugestivan je i sam naslov kao neka vrsta komentara, objašnjenja fikcionalnog sveta: život insekata – naslov ovog alegorično-satiričnog romana – zapravo je život ljudi, odnosno život insekata koji se ne razlikuje od ljudskog. Mapirajući probleme u društvu, kao i one koji se tiču same egzistencije, Peljevin iz poglavlja u poglavlje širi tematski okvir: susrećemo sa zavisnicima od narkotika, eksploatisanim radnikom zaglavljenim u kolotečini bez mogućnosti vertikalne društvene pokretljivosti, ženom u okovima patrijarhalnog sistema, pa i sa čisto egzistencijalističkom prozom. Drugim rečima, radi se o „romanu“ uvezanih priča od kojih su neke od njih narativno sjedinjene samo na osnovu činjenice da se radi o svetu insekata.

https://pulse.rs/zivot-insekta/

P.S. ima tu i nekih progutanih slova, jedne reči, ponavljanja itd. ali to prepisujem mojoj brzopletosti i nedostatku obazrivosti :d

[Paul Bryant · Rating 2 out of 5]

This was fiercely original and intriguing, but also boring and plotless, and even worse, convinced me that like a dim-witted person at a comedy club, I just wasn’t getting it and why are all these people laughing. You get a series of episodes, like short stories, about people who you then realise are insects, so that even though they’re wearing a slinky dress and high heels, they also fly and have a proboscis and wanna suck your blood, like a literal metaphor. This novel is a Satire About Post-Soviet Russia, so maybe not surprisingly mosquitos and dung beetles feature a lot. One insect blatantly says “We’ve been sold down the river, every one of us. Along with the rockets and the fleet. They’ve sucked us dry.” Okay, that was straightforward. But there was a lot of hoho Russian humour that went over my head.

He set the glasses on the grass, filled them to the brim, and raised his own.
“Whose is it?” inquired Arthur.
“It’s a cocktail,” answered Archibald. “Turkmenian second group and Moscow region engineer with negative rhesus factor. Cheers!”

Insect/humans (whatever they are) says stuff like “I killed the conceptual artist in myself long ago.”

Ah well, for me it was a miss but the more esoteric Goodreaders will love it.

[Osore Misanthrope · Rating 1 out of 5]

Након прочитаних четрдесетак страница, остах забезекнут колико је ово глупо. Пељевин је хтео мало да му га дâ - француски, клавир, гео-графија...але-горија...
o((⊙﹏⊙))o.
За књигу сам први пут чуо када сам је видео код колегинице са којом сам седео на вежбама из неуробиологије где смо микроскопирали и цртали мождане и мождинске пресеке, одговарали на неуроанатомска питања и ћаскали о књижевности, фотографији... Да, радо ћу се сећати двочасовних занешености над оловком и окуларом - и уметношћу (!), а ову језу од књиге бих волео да потиснем у заборав.

[Karen · Rating 3 out of 5]

Reading this felt like listening to someone tell a joke in a language you only kind of understand. The book is supposed to be a satire, and the things being satirized didn't really mean anything to me, and most of these stories just did not make sense on a superficial, non-symbolic level. That said, the premise is really cool, and I love the way that Pelevin handles the simultaneous humanness and insectness of the characters - they never transition from one to the other, but exist as both, and that makes for some interesting images, particularly when dealing with size. One minute a character is a mosquito sucking blood from an enormous human, the next minute the character is human size and is barfing that blood up all over the street. And a few of the stories are pretty interesting, particularly the ones that stand alone and aren't split up to create a continuous thread throughout the book. I have a feeling that this book deserves another shot. Maybe I'll read it again sometime and increase its starrage.

[Cosimo · Rating 4 out of 5]

Il secondo mondo

“Ti stai attaccando alle parole. Posso dirlo anche in un altro modo: quando cerco di prendere una decisione, dentro di me mi imbatto sempre in qualcuno che ha preso la decisione opposta, ed è proprio questo qualcuno che poi fa tutto”.

Il romanzo di Pelevin racconta le vicende grottesche e e surreali di diversi personaggi incarnati in insetti umani: mosche e formiche, lucciole, falene e scarafaggi sono protagonisti di storie esilaranti e allegoriche in un mondo di passione e crudeltà, nichilismo, non-sense e filosofia, metamorfosi e immaginazione fantastica, portando in superficie le contraddizioni, le zone d'ombra, le verità stranianti e le fratture di una società e di una cultura rappresentata nella sua disancorata follia e alla completa e malinconica deriva di valori e priva di riferimenti, moralità e sicurezze. Il romanzo si fonda su un'entomologia immateriale che svela il carattere inautentico e inattendibile della cultura di massa, dove ogni transizione è negativamente ambigua. Pelevin ambienta il racconto in una località di mare in Crimea, alla periferia dell'impero, nel tramonto di ideali e aspirazioni, con una tonalità grottesca e satirica che non rinuncia mai a indagine psicologica, raffigurazione dei sentimenti, gioco delle relazioni e poesia visionaria. Comicità e spiritualità sono sapientemente alternate in episodi dal colore esistenziale e dissacrante, in un linguaggio vitale e versatile, con uno stile intimo e universale che disorienta il lettore, lo trasporta in una parabola intessuta di consistenti allucinazioni. Dietro al riso appaiono il vuoto e la tristezza, la perdita di senso e la disillusione di una realtà che non offre alcuna apertura, un passato che insegue l'attimo senza scorrere, sviluppandosi in un assurdo e indistinguibile male che pervade ogni minima frazione di esperienza; nelle cose c'è una falsità irreale e dogmatica che finisce per intrappolare tutti quanti, dietro una barriera impenetrabile, e lasciarli incapaci, senza respiro né sguardo, mostrando l'inesorabile inutilità di ogni possibile trasformazione o cambiamento, in uno sradicamento continuo e pessimisticamente metafisico.

“E' come se prima, nella vita, ci fosse stato qualcosa di incredibilmente semplice, qualcosa di più importante di tutto il resto; poi è scomparso, e solo allora si è capito cosa fosse. Ed è venuto fuori che tutto, ma proprio tutto quello che desideravamo un tempo, aveva un senso solo perché c'era questa cosa fondamentale. Senza di essa, non ci serve più niente. Ed è qualcosa che non si può neanche definire. Sai qual è la luce verso cui volevo veramente volare? C'era una poesia che diceva così: 'Non rimpiango il respiro tormentoso della vita, perché cos'è la vita, e cos'è la morte? Ma rimpiango la luce che splendeva sull'intero universo, e nella notte va, e piange mentre va via...”

[Mohsen.khan72 · Rating 5 out of 5]

خیلی خوب بود
پر مفهوم و معنا و درجه یک.
لذت بردم از خوندنش
تحلیل آخر کتاب هم بسیار در فهم و ریزه کاری های خاص پلوين کمک میکنه.

[K.D. Absolutely · Rating 4 out of 5]

Move over, Franz Kafka. You only have Gregor Samsa turning into a giant Austrian bug. Victor Pelevin has so many insects turning into Russian politicians, soldiers, etc. You both use the insectness of human beings or humanness of the insects as a readable interesting satire or metaphor but since Pelevin has more in his arsenal, he, for me, is your rightful heir in the satire arena of world literature.

This book is mesmerizing in its prose. It will keep you on your toes because you have to figure out while reading if the characters are in their insect or human form. If they fly for example or if there is a word like probocis then they are insects but if they drink alcohol from a glass or rolling a round dung, then they are human beings. I really didn't have much interest about what Pelevin satirized here, presumably the post-Cold War Russia (it would have been better if I did) but I enjoyed his immensed imagination into thinking like this despite the fact that this of course is now being described as a substantiation of Kafka's The Metamorphosis (3 stars). But one cockroach against 14 (that's how many stories are there in this book) bugs? Hands down, you know who has stronger imagination.

This is my first time to read a Pelevin book and it made me excited to read his other 1001 book, The Clay Machine-Gun. His careful construction of satire or allegory is something to behold because some writers can put something together and because it is an allegory or metaphor or something that represents facts, one can just say something without paying attention to the form or writing. Here, Pelevin, does something beyond plain satire actually. The book can also be seen as allusion, double-entendre, allegory, metaphor or even a creation of a new mythology. It is a strong work of fiction and considering that this was originally written in Russian, can be an obscure work that needs to be read by more people especially those in the West.

Brilliant. One of the most brilliant ones I read this year.

[Greg Heaton · Rating 5 out of 5]

Mind blown. Beautiful, luminous, heartfelt. Transcendent. (And I don't use that word lightly)

Chekhov meets Gogol meets Ovid.

The Seryozha chapter might be the single greatest short story I've ever read.

Read it.

[Justė Knygu_gurmane · Rating 4 out of 5]

Visiškai crazy knyga 😅 Jau ko ko, bet nesitikėjau uodų su šortais sudarančių sandorius dėl narkotikų, mėšlavabalių filosofavimo apie tai, kad visas pasaulis tik mėšlo krūva, bei blakių rūkančių marihuaną. Žodžiu kosmosas. Net nežinau ką parašyti 😅

Tikrai KITOKIA knyga. Tik gal ne tiek apie vabzdžius, kiek apie pačius žmones tik įspraustus į vabalų gyvenimo rėmus. Dargi apie patį pasaulį ir jį veikiančius dėsnius. Nors iš pirmo žvilgsnio knyga atrodo kaip kupina sarkazmo, bet pažiūrėjus atidžiau gali rasti tokias temas kaip vienatvė, savęs suvokimas, motinystė, sąvojo kelio pasirinkimas, net ir egzistenciniai klausimai. O šalia visų šių filosofinių klausimų glūdi ir tokių problemų iškėlimas kaip narkotikai, emigracija, skurdas… žodžiu “kabliukai”, kurie dar ir dabar gan aktualūs.

“Aš manau, – prabilo vienas vabalas, – kad pasaulyje nėra nieko aukštesnio už mūsų vienatvę.”

Visai nedidelė knygelė, bet tikrai visko labai daug. O tai, jog autorius renkasi apie viską rašyti per vabzdžių gyvenimo prizmę suteikia knygai originalumo. Tikrai nieko panašaus neteko skaityti. O jau ką ir kalbėti apie humoro jausmą! Net pirmasis sakinys leidžia suprasti kokį toną autorius renkasi knygai.

“Pagrindinis pensiono korpusas, slepiamas senų topolių ir kiparisų, buvo niūrus pilkas pastatas, tarsi pagal kvanktelėjusio Ivanuškos komandą atgręžęs jūrai užpakalį.”

Bet turbūt kaip ir gyvenime yra dvi pusės – ta linksmoji, kuri verčia juoktis iš tam tikrų situacijų (ar jų pateikimo) ir ta liūdnoji. Tai ir ši knyga tokia dviprasmiška, nes buvo vietų, kai negalėjau nustoti juoktis, o buvo tokių taiklių įžvalgų, jog privertė surimtėti.

Knyga manau turėtų patikti tiems, kurie ieško kitokio požiūrio, kuriems nesvetimas gyvenimo suvokimas per filosofinę prizmę. Man patiko! Tad mano vertinimas 4/5.

[Narges Allafakbari · Rating 5 out of 5]

به روایت پلوین، آدمی بین فلسفه­‌های ذهنی و رویا و نقشی که طبیعت و اجتماع به او می­‌دهد در نوسان است. اینجاست که نویسنده سعادت بشر را در این می­‌داند که بتواند در این میان راه درست را پیدا کند.

[Jelena · Rating 3 out of 5]

"Da bi izašao iz bunara, moraš prvo da upadneš." - repllika jednog od likova ovog čudnovatog romančića. A to se upravo odnosi na samog Peljevina - sa njim samo moraš početi. Sjećam se njegovog romana Čapajev i Praznina, very weird ali kada na kraju izađete iz tog romana - bum!

Život insekata je, meni lično, lošiji od Peljevina kojeg sam upoznala sa ČiP. I dalje je to isti miks budističke filozofije, kafkizma, egzistencijalizma... ma, kako to sam Peljevin kaže, kao ruski pisac, kako god da pišete uvijek ćete nastavljati nečije učenje jer ih je bilo previše. Mislim, Peljevinov jezik je krem de la krem ruskog žargona i suptilnih (i manje suptilnih) nijansi na život u Rusiji devedestih kroz, guess what, život insekata.

Metamorfoze od insekata ka čovjeku i obrnuto budu malo konfuzne na početku, ali se uspijeva izbalansirati i dobije se roman od sličica iz života komaraca, balegara, skarabeja, mrava, muha itd.
Ono što je meni zapalo za oko jeste način na koji Peljevin koristi prostranstvo (ili nepostojanje istog) da oblikuje svoje junake. Da pokaže svu apsurdnost života malog čovjeka/insekta pred silom prirode (koje, kao i kod svih Rusa, ima), vremena i sopstvenih izbora. Međutim, nije Peljevin crn, on pokazuje borbu da se vrati izgubljeno dostojanstvo čovječije/insekatske ličnosti.Koliko je to uspio svaki od njegovih likova... moglo bi se pričati dok se gura lopta od balege ispred sebe.

3,5* jer ne mogu dati više, ne nakon Čapajeva.

[Lorenzo Berardi · Rating 4 out of 5]

Despite its title, this book doesn't speak about entomology. Not in its common terms, at least.

Six years have passed since I've read "The life of insects". In the meanwhile Viktor Pelevin, who was considered one of the best contemporary novelists of the so called "new Russian generation" has been forgotten by many reviewers. Unfortunately for him there has been a new wave of angry, young and often attractive teenagelike Russian novelists to talk about. Pelevin who's in his fourties looks like a dinosaur.

On the Italian edition of this book there is an absurd line who calls Pelevin "a cybernetic Nabokov for our times". That's pure nonsense.

The Life of Insects is definitely an astonishing work of genius. Pelevin's insects have human beings, they behave like people, they spend their holidays in Yalta in a postmodern version of the fin-de-siecle and bourgeois scenario chosen by Checkov for his famous "Lady with the little dog" tale.

There is plenty of social satire against the Russian habits, decadence, corruption and neverending bureaucracy in this book and it's expressed with a very good writing technique.
If you want to have an interesting portrait of a changing Russia caught in the late 90s, you have to read other works of this novelist, like "Babylon", but this one is the best book Pelevin has ever written.

[Liza Rodimtseva · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a work of "post-Socialist surrealism" that depicts typical Russian life through a wildly imaginative lens. The edition I read actually included two very different short novellas. In the first, a satire of Space Race-era gung-ho, an aspiring cosmonaut begins to suspect that the mission he has been training for is not what it seems. In the second, ordinary Russians from all walks of life are depicted as anthropomorphic insects, whose instinct-bound lives provide a metaphor for the meaningless drudgery that afflicts most people's daily living. The cicada spends his lifetime burrowing underground with vague hopes of someday breaking through to the surface, reflecting the pointless ambitions of a 9-to-5 office worker. Meanwhile, the moth spends his nights flittering towards any lights source he sees, like the armchair mystic who throws himself at whatever philosophy might lead him towards what he hopes is enlightenment. And so on. The lesson, of course, is that most people's lives are as deeply stuck on the pre-set rails of habit, social expectation and primal urges as a mindless bug's, and they are just as helpless to deviate from their given life-cycles. Pretty bleak if it weren't so absurdly funny.

[Harry Kane · Rating 5 out of 5]

In Pelevin's native Russia, there are two specific cricisms aimed at him by the formidable Russian literary establishment. Apart from people whining that he destroys culture, but these we give a wide berth. Anyhow, criticism one is that he doesn't really write novels, but thinly disguised social satires which peddle absurdist Zen values. The second criticism, is that he always retells the same Zen story in every book.
Indeed, that is exactly what Mr. Pelevin does, and exactly why I love his stuff so much.
A lot of Western readers seem to think that Pelevin lampoons post-soviet Russia, and hence feel cut off from the flow. Mr. Pelevin is not in the business of lampooning post-soviet Russia. Mr. Pelevin uses post-soviet Russia to do something much more exciting. It's like thinking that the point of Kafka is that he lampoons Austrian beurocracy.
In this collection about insects, the author is merciless as usual, but has not yet grown as bitter as he has since about 2008. Enjoy the freshness!

[Daiva Boleišienė · Rating 4 out of 5]

Neiprasta knyga. Nustebino. Vaizduojamas vabzdziu gyvenimas juos atspindint kaip zmones.

[Weronika · Rating 4 out of 5]

Loved it thank u max !

[Raganų kraujo · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nesitikėjau, kad bus taip gerai. Tokia kitokia. Lyg keistas sapnas su daug nerealių detalių, bet tuo pačiu apstu gilių, rimtų temų. Labai gražiai žaidžiama su vabzdžių bei žmonių gyvenimo analogijomis.
Aukštų lūkesčių neturėjau, bet gavau toookią smagią kelionę!

[Preetam Chatterjee · Rating 4 out of 5]

On the surface, this is a quirky little book about characters who are both humans and insects — but that description is like saying the Mahabharata is “a family dispute.”

Pelevin isn’t just writing fiction; he’s detonating it from within. The novel slides between allegory, satire, mysticism, and straight-up absurdity with that signature Pelevin vibe: deadpan, philosophical, slyly hilarious, and weird in the best possible way.

At the centre of the novel is the idea of metamorphosis — not just physical, but spiritual, economic, existential. Each character’s insect form mirrors their human anxieties.

A businessman becomes a beetle scuttling through capitalism’s endless maze. A mother becomes a mosquito living off dependence. A confused boy becomes a moth drawn toward the neon hallucinations of modernity.

Pelevin takes the insect world — familiar, ignored, microscopic — and turns it into a stage on which all of modern Russia’s contradictions are performed.

And oh, the Russia he portrays! It's the Russia of the post-Soviet 1990s, that anarchic, free-market wild west full of lost ideologies, uncertain identities, and people trying to figure out who they are now that the old scripts have been wiped clean.

Instead of writing a realist social novel, Pelevin gives us metamorphosing insects and makes them feel truer than real people. That’s the trick: absurdity becomes accuracy.

One of Pelevin’s great gifts is how he blends mysticism with satire. He’s not just mocking society — he’s probing the nature of consciousness, the illusions of selfhood, the strange traps of desire.

This is the same writer who often wonders whether Buddhism and nihilism are secretly siblings. In The Life of Insects, the characters constantly shift states of being, raising a question Pelevin loves: “If your identity can morph so easily, was it ever real?” It’s philosophical, but wrapped in humour so casual you almost miss the existential punchline.

There’s also a kind of melancholy underpinning the comedy. These insect-humans are ridiculous, yes — but they’re also lost, confused, searching for meaning. Their tiny wings carry huge burdens.

Their scuttling little lives echo with longing. The pathos is what gives the book its force. Surrealism only works when it has emotional ballast, and Pelevin supplies that generously.

Stylistically, the novel is a trip. The prose moves lightly, but the ideas land heavily. Scenes twist unpredictably, but the structure isn’t chaotic — it’s patterned, like the behaviour of actual insects.

You get cyclical motion, sudden leaps, obsessive routines. Pelevin’s narrative technique mimics the natural world he describes, creating a subtle harmony between form and theme.

And like all Pelevin’s works, the philosophical undercurrent reaches toward the metaphysical. Beneath the jokes about consumerism and chaos, there’s a real spiritual question: “What does it mean to be alive?”

Not just in a biological sense, but in a conscious, aware, awakened sense. Are we living, or merely reacting?

Are we evolving, or just crawling in circles?

You end the book feeling unsettled and illuminated at the same time — like a mirror has been held up, but you’re not quite sure what species you resemble.

That’s Pelevin’s genius.

Most recommended.

[Victoria · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book took me on an absorbing journey filled with confusion and surrealism. Pelevin constantly keeps his readers on guard by having characters undergo metamorphosis (literally) between the human and insect state in the middle of sentences. Communism, society, and post-USSR Russia are satirized through such characters as a moth who questions his own existence, a dung beetle who adheres to what he has been taught all his life even when his beliefs do not answer his son's questions, an attractive ant who gets trapped in a domestic lifestyle she never wanted in the first place, and, of course, Sam the capitalist mosquito who drinks the blood of locals wherever he travels. Though there were several subplots occurring simultaneously, none of them were extraneous and all contributed to making this a unique and thought-provoking read.
Favorite quote from this book:
"The genuine light is any light that you can actually reach. The real point is not what you fly toward but who is doing the flying."- Mitya the moth

[Tatjana Vujičić · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Единственная реальная российская литературная традиция — писать хорошие книги способом, которым никто не делал этого прежде."
-Виктор Пелевин

[Rafo Zarbabyan · Rating 3 out of 5]

Իրակ��նում շատ հզոր գիրք էր, բայց մի քիչ իմը չէր:

Երեք եմ գնահատել, բայց խոստովանում եմ, որ շատ սուբյեկտիվ գնահատական է: Կարդալու ընթացվում զգում էի, որ բավական ուժեղ ստեղծագործություն է ձեռքումս: Բայց դե իմը չէր, ինչ ասեմ: Չէր գրավում: Ընթացքում շատ էի շեղվում, հետո ստիպված մի քանի էջ հետ էի գալիս ու նորից կարդամ: Սա այն գրքերից է, որ եթե մի բան բաց թողեցիր, ամբողջ գիրքը հարամ է լինում:

Ահավոր շատ սուրեալիզմ կա գրքում: Մենք հետևում են միջատների կյանքին, ովքեր ապրում ենք մարդկանց նման: Մի քիչ սխալ ասեցի: Նրանք մարդիկ են, ովքեր ունեն միջատի արտաքին... Է��ի չէ: Դժվար, շատ դժվար է բացատրել: Միջատներ են, ովքեր ապրում են մարդու նման, այսինքն ընկերություն են անում, սիրահարվում, նախանձում, խմում, բայց միևնույն ժամանակ պահպանում են իրենց միջատային սովորույթները, օրինակ՝ արյուն են խմում, քաքի գնդեր են գլորում, ուտում են մահացած ցեղակցին ու սեփական ձվերը և այլն:

Շատ հետաքրքիր է Պելևինի փիլիսոփայությունը, հետաքրքիր են նրա բարձրացրած խնդիրները: Այստեղ կա բարոյականության, սերունդների և նմանատիպ այլ հիմնահարցեր: Եթե կարդաք, հատկապես ուշադրություն դարձրեք, թե ինչպես է թրիք տեղափոխող միջատը դաստիարակում իր որդուն, ինչպես է նա ցույց տալիս, որ իրենց կյանքի ամբողջ իմաստը կենտրոնացած է թրիքի գնդի մեջ: Իսկապես հիասքանչ էր:

Հա, կարդալու գիրք է հաստատ:

[HelloB · Rating 1 out of 5]

Non c'ho capito un cappero 😅 il primo racconto con le zanzare era anche divertente fino a quando hanno descritto i "paesaggi" (i nostri corpi) in base all'etnia. Nel secondo con gli scarabei non ci ho capito una mazza. Poi dopo quello con le formiche ho lasciato perdere ... 👀

[Clark Hays · Rating 5 out of 5]

A disturbing, disorienting read

This is an amazing and devious little book that’s either so macro it’s micro, or vice versa. A series of loosely connected chapters follows a variety of characters around a sea side resort town that’s falling slowly into disrepair. The catch is that the characters are either anthropomorphic insects or, conversely and perversely, insectomorphic humans.

Either way, reading it was a disorienting as the two worlds blend into one that is dark and filled with a singular and crippling kind of hopelessness as the characters are drawn helplessly, inexorably along to their biologic, social and emotional destinies. Are we all mosquitoes seeking others from which to suck bloody sustenance before being squashed by a careless hand? Are we all plodding beetles doomed to roll our giant balls of dung proudly and unquestioningly in front of us for the duration of our short lives? Or are we worker ants driven to work and breed and die to protect the next generation of worker ants. More likely, we’re a little bit of all those and more. It’s all very dark and doomed, and I loved it.

The chapter on the little bugs — caterpillars? beetles? — inside joints of marijuana was one of the most visceral reading experiences I’ve had in quite some time, leaving me a little unsteady afterward.

I always worry that the cultural markers in translated books will be mostly lost on readers, like me, who can’t read it in the original language. In this book, it may not matter. While I’m sure much of the fin de siècle sense of Russian history and the artifacts scattered through the resort were deeply meaningful to those who know Russia better, the existential messages were larger and deeper and more timeless than any culturally specific references.

One of my favorite lines: “It wasn’t his swollen belly—that transformation, perfectly normal for mosquitoes, didn’t warrant any special attention; it was the face, which was the same but seemed to be stuffed full of something, with a heaviness reminiscent not so much of a goose stuffed with apples as an apple stuffed with a goose.”

It’s just the right kind of weird and depressing, and I highly recommend it.

[J.M. Hushour · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a book about bug people or people bugs, depending on how you want to look at it. A small cast of characters meander through their holiday by the Black Sea, flitting back and forth between human and bug. It is this muddy distinction that charges the novel with its pecualiar beauty, for the characters, whether its the trio of businessmen/mosquitoes, the ant queen dealing with motherhood, or the philosophizing dung beetles, are wonderfully rendered. The ambiguity of their identity, or rather the mutually reinforcing dualities of their natures, usually quite hilarious, is what drives the book. There isn't much of a plot to speak of. Each group of "insects" have their own little tales and most of them intersect at some point, but the lack of overarching plot doesn't detract from the read.

[Danielle · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Life of Insects is by Russian writer Victor Pelevin, and was first published in Russian in 1994, with the English translation following in 1996. I was attracted to the story by Pelevin's approach to combining human and insect traits at will; one moment a character is swimming in someone's food as a small insect, and the next they are plucked out and seated at the table as a full grown human.

I wanted to see how he would accomplish this, and if I liked the results. I was surprised at how much I did like this unusual melding of duality and I was further impressed by the many different ways that Pelevin explored it. Sometimes he played with size, sometimes with physical attributes and sometimes with human vs insect activities. He also explored how to write it; fast or slow transition, sudden or expected, complete change or small detail.

Below is an excerpt that features this insect/human transition in a graduated way:

Sam raised his fork and held it over his plate, and then he noticed a young fly sitting on the edge between the potato and the sauce - at first he'd taken her for a bit of dill. He slowly held out his hand toward her. The fly trembled, but she didn't fly away. He carefully took her between his finger and thumb and set her on an empty chair.

The fly was very young. Her firm green skin glittered gaily in the sunlight, and Sam thought how precise the name "greenbottle" was. Her limbs were covered with dark hairs and ended in delicate pink suckers, as if two half-open mouths waited invitingly on each of her palms, and her waist was so slim that she looked as though the slightest breath of wind could break her in two. The shyly fluttering wings, looking like two sheets of mica glimmering with all the colours of the rainbow, were covered with the standard pattern of dark lines; no special skill in wing reading was required to read her simple fate in them. Her eyes were also green, with a slightly sullen look, and a long dark fringe fell down over them from her forehead, making the fly appear even younger than she was and creating the impression of a schoolgirl dressed up in her older sister's dress.

And here is an excerpt that features this insect/human transition quickly:

Natasha unbuttoned Sam's shirt and pressed the tender suckers on her palms against the course hair of his chest.

The below quote features a transformation in the act:

Sam coughed, covering his mouth with his hand, and Natasha saw his lips extending into a long tube. Pretending that he was picking something up off the floor, he leaned toward the back of the driver's seat, winked conspiratorially at Natasha, and put a finger to his extended lips to tell her not to say anything. Natasha nodded. The sharp point of Sam's proboscis slid gently through the gray covering of the seat. The driver shuddered. His eyes glanced uneasily at the passengers in the rear-view mirror.

And here, subtlety:

It was easier to run barefoot, and quite soon the mound of dirt by the road looked as though it had been dumped by a truck, and the entrance to the burrow was no longer visible. Marina was dead on her feet, but she still had enough strength to find a piece of cardboard from a pack of cigarettes with a picture of an umbrella and the word Parisienne printed on it. She covered the entrance with it as she descended into the borrow. Everything was done-she'd done it.

One of the most striking features of this world and the multitude of characters that inhabit it (mosquitoes, moths, dung beetles, flies, ants, cicadas, et cetera) is that they are all aware of, and accept, their dual natures. One minute they have wings and the next a long coat is in their place, and this is observed and understood to be normal by all. They spend the majority of their time thinking about or discussing their insect natures and the meaning of life as their particular species understands and approaches it, in addition to discussing how the different species interact as an insect society. This insect POV philosophy alongside their interchangeable states of being combines to raise a poignant question; are our natures and our lives really so different from those of insects, which are creatures that we consider to be far inferior to us?

Each species has its own way of conducting itself in the world, and each species is convinced that theirs is the right way, much like how each subset of humanity (be they defined by culture, religion, race, nationality et cetera) is convinced that theirs is the true/right/correct way to conduct a life. Through this tactic, Pelevin succeeded in suggesting that each view is valuable, the 'right' way to do things is highly personal and subjective, and that when you follow one prescription for life, you are dismissing various equal possibilities.

The Life of Insects lost points with me because quite often I had no idea what importance or significance things carried. Perhaps because of this, I find some chapters much more enjoyable than others. Also perhaps because of this, I find the pacing to be choppy. I've read that this story satirizes Russian culture at the time, but it was far too nuanced for me to make head or tails of most of it.

Granted, I don't know a lot of detailed Russian history, and I would be lost if someone asked me to describe the national mindset of the early 1990s. I know who Stalin was, I know who Lenin was, I know what happened to the Czar Alexander and his family. I know the basics about their involvement in WW2, how brutal orders were passed to officers to kill their own men if they were showing signs of defection (or any other reason they deemed appropriate) and the besieging of Stalingrad. I've heard of the Gulag, the Iron Curtain and mail order brides. I know that the Cold War ended around the time this story was originally published, and that Putin is a posturing propagandist, to put it mildly. Moscow is the capital, Yalta is a resort town and Siberia is really cold. I know that Russians dance the ballet like a boss and make really cool decorative eggs. Someone who possesses a better understanding of Russian culture and history than the above may have no problem with following the subtleties, references and allegorical comparisons.

Aside from these things, I don't really know much else about Russia, which makes it hard to discern if the general charmed bewilderment and confusion that I experience when I read most Russian literature is due to the fact that I am culturally ignorant or that they're all crazy. If you gave me a Russian story without telling me it's Russian and replacing any obvious markers like names or locations, I am willing to bet that I would be able to tell that it was Russian 3/4 times. I wish that I could articulate their collective style better than I am; but as it is an enigma to me, so is its description. I keep reading their stories, so it has obviously grown on me.

I would recommend this for anyone who has an interest in Russia, Russian culture, philosophy, weird characters, insects, experimental writing, the bizarre and the surreal.

[Ieva Gr · Rating 4 out of 5]

I think it’s very well written – the stories that seem to be separate short novels at first turn out to be all interconnected. And the human-insect parallel is a very nicely grotesque idea. It really puts your imagination to work, when you read about completely human-like scenes and acts and find them decorated with bits and pieces from insect life.

P. S. Who knew, that the night moths I am so repelled by are actually the misanthropic and melancholic types, I usually tend to get along with very well.