Rather than slice-of-life, The Factory is more like cupcakes-of-life. Within a very small town centered around a fictional factory in Ukraine, the uniqueness of each person and situation is presented in beautiful language, but matter-of-factly. From a worker who “behaved weirdly, or rather, he did whatever he felt like doing” to a “mysterious building that snuggled up against the forest like a sleeping baby,” there’s much more to wonder about than theoretical happiness machines.
Written by Ihor Mysiak, a Ukrainian poet and soldier, there are probably layers of meaning I’m missing, since I share none of that background. I would love to see those and other perspectives written up in future reviews. For readers more like me, rest assured, this story is still mesmerizing and relatable. The author’s voice (with great credit to the translators and editor) flows like an older relative sharing hard-earned wisdom mixed with local gossip. It helps to trust the author and open your mind to what he wants to share. Backstories for nicknames, tales of misplaced items or people, and partial explanations for bizarre actions are vividly described without becoming prescriptive. Unlike mainstream novels where every string ties up neatly, these loose threads reappear naturally, like a tapestry in progress, which for me proved truly satisfying.