By the Time We Leave Here, We'll Be Friends is the story of four prisoners who must escape from a Siberian gulag overrun by violent gangsters circa 1952. In order to successfully make it across the tundra, they must trick a fellow prisoner into following them, so that they can cannibalize him when they run out of food. Meticulously researched and darkly surreal, By the Time blends historical fiction with haunting imagery and brutal body horror, culminating in an ending that readers have been talking about since the book debuted. Winner of the 2010 Wonderland Award for Best Novel "A David Lynchian nightmare set in a Russian gulag...paranoid, cold, brutal, haunting, mystifying (in a good way), and totally unforgettable." - Paul Tremblay, author of A Head Full of Ghosts and Disappearance at Devil's Rock
Of everything that I've read and reviewed over the past 2 or 3 years, this is the one book that deserves to be read by a larger audience. It won the Wonderland Award for best novel of the year, and there's no doubt it was an honor well earned.
Dense, dark, parasitic, drug-infused nightmare set in a Stalin-era Siberian prison camp. Cormac McCarthy fans take special note of this one - it's bleak both in its subject matter and its stingy use of language. Nothing extraneous in here, and each word feels as though it was carefully chosen after an intense interviewing process that left those unworthy eviscerated and discarded along the side of the road. J. David Osborne kills this shit.
I really liked this book! The characters are strong. The setting in a Siberian gulag is great! Russian slang is used just the correct amount. The story is interesting and captivating.
I'm just not sure I understand the last few pages... Come again?
This mysterious tale is beautiful and cold, perfect for a winter's evening alone in the night, alone in the dark (a mineshaft or a hospital). But your head is still a bit funny from how this book leaves you feeling once you pass over to the other side where the words end and you realize it's all done. It's the most you can do. There's no turning back. You're still cold, but a light's been set in the dark, a trail has been woven through the throat and the demons take flight, leave you to rest in peace for a little while longer. This is not the kind of book I would tell you to read if you want to read a book to smear a smile on your face. This book grafts onto the skin of your mind and kind of hangs there, makes you wish you still smoked cigarettes, but you know they wouldn't taste as sour or as good as those Russian ones. So you boil more snow and mash some bread in your cup, and wait for the revelation. It'll come. Don't worry, it'll come.
Quick little read. Brutal little read. Ugly, fascinating, and minimalistic but haunting in a big way, like it's hunting me.
Reminds me a lot of Cronenberg body horror stuff but grafted onto a gulag story that's more viscerally brutal than Solzhenitsyn or Dostoevsky, but not as psychologically dense or, well, brutal.
Not a fun read, but a surprisingly fast one. It grips you and you're just running with it.
It's interesting going back and reading the first books my friends wrote because I can see how far they've come from who they were. This is a very solid first book. It's not as good as Black Gum, but most things aren't.
Check this out if you're looking for some gulag bizarro full of blood and drugs and a soulsucking throat. Or just check it out because it's awesome.
By The Time We Leave Here We’ll be Friends by J. David Osborne. He’s a young author but his debut is impressive. Probably one of the best books I’ve read this year.
I think his talent lies in his economic use of language. Every word is carefully chosen and adds to the overall harrowing atmosphere of a Russian gulag.
Former thief and prisoner, Alek Karriker is a guard and is searching for a way out of this hellish place. The only way he can achieve this is by finding someone who could serve as a sacrificial lamb on the journey.
Karriker has issues with a wound in his neck which speaks to him and leads to some bloody scenes. I can only hint at some of the hallucinatory sequences that are inside this book.
This is one of those rare books that demands multiple readings. Not too say it’s complicated, but it’s smart and muli-layered.
J.David Osborne is the real deal. By The Time We Leave here We’ll be Friends is an impressive debut and packs one helluva punch that’ll leave you reeling long after you put this book down.
In the frozen hell that is Siberia, Alek Karriker goes about his duties as gulag guard while losing himself in the fog of opium as an unholy light pores from the scar across his neck. Ilya Bogruv hauls starving inmates out into the wastes and puts a bullet in each man's head, telling his superiors they tried to escape. Anton Nikitin wanders the fences at night and sits during the hours after reveille reading Soviet propaganda and gingerly petting the love of his life, Tatyana, a German Shepherd smarter than them all. Milena Dumadova pushes the invalids in her ward out into the razor-sharp wind. Hipolit is a Pole lost among a sea of murderers and thieves. As the monotony of their lives shifts and mutates into something all the more bizarre, they each do what they can to survive.
With a voice that begins controlled and measured, Osborne slides closer to the chaos of dream logic as the ennui of gulag life overtakes the characters. No word is out of place, everything is as it is meant to be, as carefully detailed as the records the Stalin government. Every chapter pulls the reader forward in an episodic nature, slowly peeling away the characters until all we have left of them is their very core, exposed and ugly. By The Time We Leave Here, We'll Be Friends feels like the disturbed cousin of One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, where Osborne writes like a Social Realist lost in an abyss of the chifir his characters use to blur the edges of their lives. The grotesque squirms just under the surface of the tightly regulated world where they find themselves. The hidden is as real as the icy blue wind and the filed teeth of the Vor who can smell the blood of their enemies.
Horrific and wonderfully aberrant, J. David Osborne doesn't wear out his welcome, nor does he waste the good will that makes a reader pick up a debut novel. By The Time We Leave Here, We'll Be Friends is a book that boils a lifetime of hardships to a few pages, and sends the readers into a cruel landscape that lies in the mind of Alek Karriker. Only so many good words can be said about a book, so I'll finish with this: if you're looking to dip a toe into Bizarro fiction, if you're in the mood for something old as time and fresh as an unborn baby, read this book.
Wow. This is a great book. The writing is solid. The plot original and gripping. The characters realistic and strange. The setting (Siberian Gulag) is so realistically portrayed I read the bulk of the book with a sweater on. It is odd, beautiful and violent. It is also well-informed. The book deals with prisoners in a Russian Gulag during the reign of Stalin. The men have a cast system in place, where one's transgressions can be read on their skin in the form of tattoos. Body art plays a large part in this book, as nearly every character is decorated in some way with at least one (occasionally horrific) tattoo. This was something the prisoners of that time actually did. Tattoos played a huge part in their lives at the Gulags. There is a pretty cool documentary about it, but I forget what it is called. Oh well. For a first novel, this is amazing. Even for an established author this book would surely be counted among one of their best. It pulls no punches, yet never hits you directly. The power of this book lies in its subtly. The horror is surreal and haunting rather than visceral and direct. The whole thing reads like a fever dream. You get lost in it, searching for a way out, your fingertips freezing as you read. In the end, however, you will wish you hadn't finished so quickly. You will wish the rabbit hole had stayed open just a little bit longer.
Set on the insides of a Siberian gulag, Osborne's debut novel is something beyond dark and gritty. It's a tense story of grizzled villains and gruesome horror, set in a deadly void where the depravity knows no bounds. The protagonist is Alek Karriker, a former prisoner given guard duty, and there's something seriously wrong with his neck. He and the rest of the people living in this prison are all doing their best just to survive, and while Karriker is tough as nails, he too might break under the pressure.
The other prisoners hate Karriker for accepting the promotion, so they plan to kill him. They also plan to kill the guards, and they're not too kind to their fellow prisoners either. Then there's the prison's nurse, performing sadistic treatments on the half-dead patients living in her clinic. The other guards are slowly going crazy themselves, becoming either hostile or depressed. The gulag is a hard place, and everyone has to endure physical and moral tortures just to keep living. It's brutally cold, there's little food, and absolutely no salvation in sight. The only chance is to escape, the logistics of which demand actions even more disgraceful.
All of this tension is beautifully strung along by Osborne. He has a minimalist style that puts across the simplest and harshest realities like stabs from a prison shiv. Everyone is just a few seconds away from biting at the nearest throat, but there's also gruesome body horror to be had, as well as strange and surreal opium trips. The ending is a strange twist, but I thought that it called back to the earlier sequences of Karriker's surreal nightmares. For fans of horror, history, or just plain unsettling weirdness, this story will stick with you long after you put it down.
Writing can take you to some strange and fantastic places and with J. David Osborne’s debut, I’d say you are swept away to one cold damn dreamscape unlike any other. Osborne manages to write a tale and make it feel like it’s set on another planet.
By the Time We Leave Here, We’ll Be Friends is essentially a prison escape story laced with drugs and convulsing from magic. The complete seduction of the contents in this little piece is spellbinding and fucking cool. Shark-toothed gangsters sawing off tattoos with sandpaper while there is manic ghost-writing etched into the walls of a room with a deer placenta wrapped in a shirt on a desk where opium laced cigarettes are usually rolled is the kind of Lynchian world this is. Its a book of trippy visuals. It’s just downright the “good stuff” if you are into some transgressive fiction and want your genres vibrant and teeming with esotericism.
His writing is stylish and trippy. At times the events can be slightly hard to follow and this being bizzaro indie lit, there is definitely some puzzle solving to be done as the reader. The ending alone is a reason to come back because I’m sure there are plenty of interpretations and it’s a wild one. JDO is a favorite author of mine and this was such a pro start to a great writing career. Beautiful cover on this 1st edition as well. I want to get it signed!
Efficient and unsentimental. That’s not to say it’s without feeling, just that we’re talking about a Siberian prison camp here, and the writing’s a reflection of its conditions. There’s routine, labor, bread rations, gang brutality, and lots of opium. Lots. A significant number of the book’s short scenes are devoted to fever dreams induced by the drug. Seemingly, anyway. It bounces between a handful of characters getting by, where the distinction between prisoners and those who guard them is not always night-and-day. I did get lost a number of times in the middle, partly for that reason. The prose was excellent, tight as a tourniquet, and rarely ornate (except in the psychedelic sequences). A highly-original story set in an unfamiliar landscape.
Ushankas off to Osborne for this frosty horror. The winner of 2010 Wonderland Award. And a well written, blood splattered, debut novel.
Set in the Siberian Gulag a slave labor camp. Slaves plan an escape into the freezing cold. Cold that would probably freeze you in place if hot water was thrown on you.
There escape becomes successful but now the four escaped slaves face nature in the frozen tundras. A small amount of food and some opium to smoke they start there trek to India.
If you want horror that will freeze at your fingertips, gore of mutilated flesh of animal and man and an unforgettable read. Then get your hands on David Osborne's Frost Horror. In the words of Jeremy Robert Johnson "Stay Frosty"
Prepare to have your mind blown. Set against the desolate Siberian landscape, a cast of desperate characters live an experience that challenges humankind to test the very limits of survival. Superlative descriptions overwhelm the senses as you familiarize yourself with a tenebrous situation sprinkled with demonic forces. JDO does a remarkable job of interweaving storylines into a masterful piece of literature that will leave you no doubt convinced that he is more than just the Stephen King of the new generation.
This book got a lot of good reviews but I don't get it. It was disjointed and poorly written. On top of that, there were too many characters that the author interchangeably described with their first and last names. And the book devolved into some outre description of "limbo" or an afterlife that had almost no place in this book. I don't get it. Is it cool now to write disjointed novels and blame it on the characters taking drugs?
J.David Osbourne is an asshole. You know the type, The first time they pick up a guitar they can play a power cord without any help. They know how to ride a skateboard and do tricks the first time they try. This is a first novel. An amazingly good, taunt fucked up mind binder of Dark Bizarro that is so well crafted you wont believe it's a first novel. I know, what an asshole. He should have to struggle through a few good but not quite there novels before writing a masterpiece like the rest of us. What a jerk. I am not the only author jealous of this book, might the only one to come out and say it.
So you want to here more about the novel. Lets start by saying this won the 2010 Wonderland award for Bizarro novel of the year. It is the story of a Russian gulag in 1950's Siberia. The story follows a couple different characters but focuses much of it's attention on Former thief and prisoner, Alek Karriker. things change for Alek when he is promoted from prisoner to being a guard.
This gulag setting is perhaps one of the most bleak locations for a novel you copuld possibly pick. So of course that interested me the first time I heard about this novel. Are you really goign to escape when hundreds of miles of tundra are on the otherside of the fence? This is a miserable place and opium is one of the few things that helps to take Alek's mind off the conditions that he and prisoners alike deal with. One problem he has is a hole in his neck is talking to him. At the same time the prisoners are losing their minds to drugs and depression.
So why not try to escape? It's insane right? There is no vegetation or food in sight for hundreds of miles. That sets of the kick in the pants that Karriker has in mind for making it to freedom.
Well this novel is total insanity and I will only fail to give it justice. It's all well researched and written. It's compelling and impressive in every way. Swallowdown publisher Jeremy Robert Johnson has an amazing eye for dark horror themed Bizarro and so far batting five for five on masterpieces.
As often happens with masterpieces it's only weakness is also a strength. I admit I have no idea what happened at the end. Of course the first time I saw Muholland Drive I was totally confused, second time I totally got it. the fact of the matter is I will read this novel again someday and I predict I will feel like Moron for not getting it the first time. Either way J. David Osbourne will still be an asshole for writing this amazing first novel.
I knew that this book would be bleak and gritty before I received it. It did not disappoint. Set in the Russion Gulag, the milieu very much resembles a concentration camp, with the conflict between hoping to stay alive by cooperation with your captors vs taking your chance are in sharp contrast.
The protagonist, Alex Karriker, is deeply addicted to opium, and no wonder considering the circumstances and the fact that it is readily available in the camp. The narrative dips into his opium dreams from time to time, and these flights of drug-induced fantasy have a deft balance between throwing a light on the situation, and the sort of illogic which is tantalizing about dreams in general. The author resists the temptation to be too literal or too obvious in connecting them to what is happening, which puts him far above most when this technique is used.
Karriker is by no means a sympathetic character, since he is a collaborator, and has his own sadistic streak and is amoral as well. And yet he draws your focus and draws you forward in the novel, if only because he is so very interestings, another sign of the author's deft hand.
I received this book as one of the contest winners, so it is signed. I really disliked the cover art, not because it is gory (although it is) but because it is misleading and suggests this is a graffic novel (which it is not). The typeface used is unusual, and adds in its own way to the sense that the reader is as buried and forgotten deep in Russia as are the characters.
I did especially like the black and white drawings inside the book. And the bit of strange whimsy which the author incorporated within one of them when he signed it, was a very piquant touch (Thank you, Mr. Osborne).
All of the characters have real depth, and are shaped with great skill. If you are thick skinned enough for the subject matter, you will enjoy this book very much.
Sleek, brutal, and intensely strange, especially the conclusion. One of the blurbs describes this as "Like a David Lynch movie set in a Russian gulag," which I think is pretty close to right. It's not a plot driven story exactly, but like a sequence of (mostly private) moments where very subtle things are happening. Interestingly, WW2 Russia is mostly in the background, and the prison where the book takes place is a sort of abstraction that feels disconnected from any time and any world: where the laws of society and occasionally reality don't apply, and everyone knows but just has to deal with it. Maybe my favorite thing was a character--some kind of authority figure, though I never understood what he was there for exactly--who went around just randomly killing people for the whole book, and how nonchalant and natural it felt. I'm curious especially how elements from this book will bleed over into the crime fiction Osborne has done since, since it feels like a really natural transition and a really interesting one.
J. David Osbourne’s BY THE TIME WE LEAVE HERE, WE’LL BE FRIENDS is one of those rare stories that follows you long after you’ve finished reading. A nightmare inducing tale set in one of the most surreal and chilling locations you’ll ever find, it’ll leave you wondering how you got there, what your next move will be, and, most importantly, how you’ll ever manage to get the fuck out. Opium fevers, black magic, strange customs and guards that piss on you while laughing, Osbourne has created a stunning debut that leaves you demanding more. Grab your coat and get ready to have your balls shoved into your stomach. BY THE TIME WE LEAVE HERE, WE’LL BE FRIENDS is full of monsters just itching to get out.
What a better place to develop this story than a gulag. The main character is Alek Karriker and his life is in danger. Threatened by the climate, the inmates and the people who are "close" to him. I've always thought this environments bring out the worst in you. There were real cases of cannibalism in gulags of mothers who ate their children. No man should ever be forced to experience such extreme conditions, but the worst thing is that they've had.
This book is a must for anybody who enjoys great and compelling stories. No need to be a bizarro fan.
Osborne's tale of gangsters struggling to survive in a freezing Siberian prison camp is trippy, violent, and disturbing. Admittedly, it took me about 60 pages to figure out what Osborne was going for. But once it clicked, this spare, roiling page-turner stuck in my brain like a tumor.
It feels weird to say I enjoyed reading this considering what it's about, but I did. It's different from anything else I've read, which I always appreciate. I didn't think this was an easy read as it's quite dark and disturbing, and in this case I would say that's a good thing.
Good writing, definitely unique, I just didn't understand what the hell was happening. Maybe it's the kind of book you need to read a couple times through...
By the Time We Leave Here We’ll Be Friends by J. David Osborne has stuck with me since I read it a few months ago; it’s a perfect winter read, as the bulk of it takes place in the environment of a frozen tundra (a Siberian gulag). The prose crackles with vivid, sometimes dreamlike, description and a commitment to accurate detail which helps to flesh out the bitter, harsh setting and lends the individual characters a credible tangibility and clarity.
I was told that this is a ‘cold’ book… with reference to the Siberian environment, obviously it's temperature… but, also, meaning unforgiving and unflinching. BTTWLHWBF is both. I swear my body temperature dropped as I progressed through the chapters. JDO is a magician with his words, in this piece. It is both hyper realistic and hyper surrealistic: a work that feels alive and quite real. Bringing equal parts grit and poetry, he skillfully weaves historical elements with the bizarre creating a uniquely uncomfortable and deranged ride through the wasteland grind of the characters’ daily work camp lives/duties culminating in their questionable escape. The symbolism is present, but nothing is spoon-fed, which I consider a huge plus. However, I appreciate art that doesn’t coddle the perceiver. I enjoy work that allows an audience space- breathing room, as it were- to draw their own conclusions, make their own connections, and By the Time We Leave Here hits that mark. Its scenarios are relatively short and are mysterious enough that they can bear repeated visitation where you may find something new, something hiding in the rim of ice that you hadn’t seen before. This being my second JDO book, the first being Black Gum, I have to say that it is my favorite of the two. Here, he's Jack London as a starving POW dosed on Opiates.
I've been camped reading every review for this book trying to find an examination of the ending, and have found very little that illuminates what that was all about. After nailing down a description of what "bizarro fiction" is as a genre and finding other examples, this seems to just barely hit the mark. Most of the fantastical or strange elements can be written off by the reader as a fever dream experienced by the characters' access to hard drugs or the effects of an extreme environment on the human psyche. Due to the style of the book, vignettes with an efficient word count, there is never an examination of the stranger events, which makes them appear unimportant, requiring the reader move on quickly to the more weighty realistic parts which make up a significantly higher percentage of the book. And the ending felt as if the author suddenly remembered the genre he was going for, which was jarring in an otherwise interesting novella grounded in that weighty, depressing realism. Would love to hear another person's interpretation of the last chapter.
Still an interesting read, note the rating, the ending left me rather disappointed, note the rating.