The Slynx

Jun 15, 2012 Nataliya rated it 4 of 5 stars

Recommended to Nataliya by: Jeffrey Keeten

Shelves: soviet-and-modern-russian, dystopia-postapocalyptic, 2012-reads, location-is-the-true-protagonist

Few books terrify me to the depths of my soul as much as this postapocalytic tale full of bleakly-black humor and dark satire, set amongst the radioactive desolation of ~~Moscow~~ Fyodor-Kuzmichsk - which is sunk low in degradation and regression, with economy dependent on mice-hunting, with a lone half-finished statue of ~~Pushkin~~ pushkin stuck in between vegetable plots, with ignorance and superstition ruling it all. Welcome to the world of The Slynx!

What makes this book so terrifying to me is how a...more

Few books terrify me to the depths of my soul as much as this postapocalytic tale full of bleakly-black humor and dark satire, set amongst the radioactive desolation of ~~Moscow~~ Fyodor-Kuzmichsk - which is sunk low in degradation and regression, with economy dependent on mice-hunting, with a lone half-finished statue of ~~Pushkin~~ pushkin stuck in between vegetable plots, with ignorance and superstition ruling it all. Welcome to the world of The Slynx!

What makes this book so terrifying to me is how accurately it captures the darkness that inhabits the souls of your everyday average humans, the darkness that makes us hang our heads in shame for our little pathetic human race. These traits are hidden right under the surface - naked power hunger, greed, xenophobia, extreme egoism, glee at others' misery, hatred of anything different... These are always there, lurking in depths of the human soul - individual and collective - just barely reigned in, barely forced underground by the influence of science and literature and medicine and technology and social conscience. But what if the social structures that contained these horrors of humanity collapsed, and resulting destruction of existing culture, regression, and ignorance allowed the worst to come out?

Tatyana Tolstaya brilliantly depicts the results of such destruction. It's been 200 years after the nuclear Blast, and what once was a city of Moscow is now a big village of Fyodor-Kuzmichsk (named after its current ruler, of course - until he is unseated). The effects of radiation are on the borderline between terrifying and outright comical. The economy is sustained on hunting mice, and as far as cultural life goes - well, the scribes make handwritten copies of a mishmash of books (supposedly written by Fyodor Kuzmich, of course) ranging from fairy tales to literary classics to logarithmic tables, and the dreaded red-robed Sanitars are omnipresent to take you away for the 'Healing' if you're found to be harboring a book from before the Blast.

Take out the radiation side effects, and this can almost be the world of deep Russia centuries ago - the world that is so remote to us and yet so uncomfortably close at the same time. People live in huts, burn candles, do a bit of agriculture and hunting (well, mostly mice, really), there are serfs, the wheel has been recently invented, as well as that new-fangled device for carrying buckets of water from the well (attributed, of course, to Fyodor Kuzmich), boats have been recently invented as well, men beat wives for fun and out of boredom, the strangers are feared and fought with, and superstition permeates every aspect of people's lives... This is the world in which Benedikt, a scribe and an innocent creator of pushkin monument, discovers that he loves reading books, and that there is only ONE correct answer to the 'burning' question (pun intended) - which item would you take out of a burning house first?

And this brings me to what I think is the most important theme in this otherwise entertaining but ordinary postapocalyptic story - the importance of MEMORY. People are nothing without it. Memory is what provides the framework, the context for our actions. Memory is what this ruined world lacks - even though there are people from "before", belonging to a variety of Soviet social classes, almost magically prevented from dying. However, these 'former' people seem more concerned with reminiscing about the past and complaining about the present, and do little of value - unless you consider talking about social injustices and putting up signs with the names of long-gone streets and the half-finished monument to Pushkin, which the locals use for securing their clotheslines. With the memory of the past gone, there is no context to any of these. Pushkin is just, well, 'pushkin', lower-case, a random unnecessary statue, a symbol of something ungraspable, unneeded, un-understood; the sign for Arbat or Nikolskie Vorota is worth no more than 'Vitya was here' sloppily carved out below it, and any book is just a collection of empty printed words. They are nothing without the context of memory.

"In the web of the streets, pushkin stood like a small black stick, and like a thin thread was from high above a clothesline, wrapped like a noose around the poet's neck."

This is where I think Tolstaya is brilliant. The idea of a protagonist's world changing once he discovers the miracle of books is not new. What's great here is her approach to it - the idea that all the books in the world mean nothing without the context of memory, without which even Hamlet can be easily interpreted as, perhaps, the story of an unsuccessful mice hunt or something of the sorts. In order to beat the ignorance you need more than just ability to mechanistically read - you need to be able to understand and learn, otherwise reading can be quite dangerous, actually. In order to achieve any kind of enlightenment you need to first learn the 'alphabet' - which is not as simple and straightforward as poor naive Benedikt may think (by the way, I'm not sure how it was done in the English translation, but in Russian, the chapters of the book are titled with the names of the letters of the old Russian alphabet. I thought it was quite neat).

The language of this book is a treat (at least to those who read Russian). The medieval peasant-like feel of the language with some twisted and half-forgotten neologisms of 'recent past' is quite fun and unsettling at the same time. And almost on every page there are allusions to the classics of the literature, including, of course, Alexander Pushkin, creating wonderful, delicious subtext and context. I can only hope that the translation managed to capture the feel of the original, since otherwise it'd be a loss to the overall feel and message of the story. And let us not forget the constant references to relatively recent Russian politics, that give this story a sharp edge of political farce in addition to everything else it is.
=======================================

4.5 stars is the verdict. It fell just a bit short of absolutely loving it, perhaps because of the slow build up in the first half of the book that reminded quite a bit of the standard postapocalyptic/dystopian fare. Also, I'm still trying to figure out how I feel about the ending (is it the only possible way for it to end - or a cop-out? Time will, maybe, tell). I recommend it highly, however - it is a true gem of the genre.
----------
And special thanks to Jeffrey Keeten, whose excellent review prompted me to reread this book (and without the reread, I would not have understood nearly as much as I had the second time around).

"...Как же нет? А чем же говоришь, чем плачешь, какими словами боишься,какими кричишь во сне? Разве не бродят в тебе ночные крики, глуховатое вечернее бормоталово, свежий утренний взвизг? Вот же оно, слово, - не узнал? - вот же оно корячится в тебе, рвется вон! Это оно! Это твое! Так из дерева, из камня, из коряги силится, тщится наружу глухой, желудочный, нутряной мык и нык, - извивается обрубок языка, раздуты в муке вырванные ноздри. Так гуняво гундосят заколдованные, побитые, скрюченные, с белыми вареными глазами, запертые в чуланах, с вырванной жилой, с перекушенной хребтиной; так, верно, и пушкин твой корячился, али кукушкин, - что в имени тебе моем? - пушкин-кукушкин, черным кудлатым идолом взметнувшийся на пригорке, навечно сплющенный заборами, по уши заросший укропом, пушкин-обрубок, безногий, шестипалый, прикусивший язык, носом уткнувшийся в грудь, - и головы не приподнять! - пушкин, рвущий с себя отравленную рубаху, веревки, цепи, кафтан, удавку, древесную тяжесть: пусти, пусти! Что, что в имени тебе моем? Зачем кружится ветр в овраге? чего, ну чего тебе надобно, старче? Что ты жадно глядишь на дорогу? Что тревожишь ты меня? скучно, Нина! Достать чернил и плакать! Отворите мне темницу! Иль мне в лоб шлагбаум влепит непроворный инвалид? Я здесь! Я невинен! Я с вами! Я с вами!"

(Sorry for the long Russian quote. I love it so much, but it was too much to translate while still preserving the beauty of the original. Usually, I translate the quotes from the books I read in Russian myself, but this one was too much for me to tackle.)(less)

52 likes · like · see review

May 17, 2013 Jeffrey Keeten rated it 5 of 5 stars

Tatyana Tolstaya was born into the Russian aristocratic family of Tolstoy. You might be thinking, as was I, would that happen to be the Leo Tolstoy family? Why in fact it is! I wasn't able to trace down exactly how she is related to Leo, but in several articles it mentions her relationship to the Russian literary giant. Her grandfather, Aleksei Nikolaevich Tolstoi, was also a well respected writer who wrote the book "Peter l". Tolstaya has a literary blue-blood heritage that gives her a leg up...more

59 likes · like · see review

Feb 19, 2009 Jacob rated it 4 of 5 stars

Shelves: nyrb, dystopia-and-utopia, i-own, 2008-2009

February 2009

You expect post-apocalyptic fiction to be depressing. You expect dystopias to be bleak. The words “wickedly funny” do not usually come to mind. But in The Slynx, a story of Moscow set two hundred years after The Blast destroyed civilization, life is not quite what it seems to be. The people don’t really deserve to be enlightened, and the thought police are almost justified; at least, books aren’t the thing to worry about. Just thank Fyodor Kuzmich, Glorybe, that you have fire. Oh, a...more

7 likes · like · see review

Aug 11, 2011 Aubrey rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: 5-star, reviewed, translated, nyrb-classic, books-are-the-best-invention, russian, reality-check, to-re-read, on-hand

This book. This book describes the addiction to literature I have in excruciating detail. It makes me appreciate the wealth of knowledge I have in comparison to the main character, for what is reading if you don't understand it?
Also, post apocalyptic at its best. No drowning in scientific garble describing the desiccated toxic surroundings. It is much more concerned with the mentality of the populace, the complete ignorance and great practicality the denizens of this fallout zone are capable of...more

3 likes · like · see review

Feb 14, 2009 karen rated it 4 of 5 stars

Shelves: books-about-books-about-books, dysto-teque

i have a long and troubled relationship with the russians. for years i didnt want to read them, because i felt that i wouldnt understand them with their troubled political history, their interchangeable names, their fucking ability to endure that is so intimidating and making-me-small-feeling. and then i read bulgakov. and i felt a little more confident.... then i got a little older and i thought... maybe im ready for some dostoevsky... and then i wondered what i had been so worried about, becau...more

36 likes · like · see review

Sep 30, 2010 Josh rated it 5 of 5 stars

Besides the meaning of the word "horripilating" ("the erection of hairs on the skin due to cold, fear or excitement"), found on the chocolate-and-lime backmatter of this book's NYRB edition, reading Tolstoya's vision of civilization's hilarious, underwhelming ashes gave me a feeling of gratitude, and also anger that the ostensible genre of this book will allow people to compare it to mechanic nightmares like 1984 and Animal Farm, or even the killer, terrorizing Road. But Russians don't do genre...more

13 likes · like · see review

Jun 22, 2007 Jason Pettus rated it 4 of 5 stars

(Full review can be found at the Chicago Center for Literature and Photography [cclapcenter.com].)

Ah, those Russian writers -- those crazy, drunken, angst-filled, delightful Russian writers! Mention the phrase "Russian literature" to most Americans, and you're likely to see the same mental images appear again and again; the dense books, the heavy symbolism, the perverse dark humor, and of course the national introspection, always the national introspection, as inherent a part of Russian culture...more (Full review can be found at the Chicago Center for Literature and Photography [cclapcenter.com].)

Ah, those Russian writers -- those crazy, drunken, angst-filled, delightful Russian writers! Mention the phrase "Russian literature" to most Americans, and you're likely to see the same mental images appear again and again; the dense books, the heavy symbolism, the perverse dark humor, and of course the national introspection, always the national introspection, as inherent a part of Russian culture as monster-truck rallies are here in the US. And so it is with Tatyana Tolstaya's blackly funny The Slynx, which has quite the long history behind it: started in 1986 while Russia was still a Soviet state, not finished until 2000 under the equally absurdist Putin administration, now newly reprinted in English form by the publishing wing of the New York Review of Books, not to be confused of course with the 2003 hardback English edition by Houghton Mifflin, which is technically the version that was read for this review. Whew!

And indeed, if you're a fan of Russian literature, The Slynx is sure not to disappoint; after all, Tolstaya is no less than the great-grandniece of Leo Tolstoy himself, not to mention one of the most famous intellectuals in contemporary Russia right now because of her popular television interview show "The School for Scandal." Set 200 years in the future, the novel is basically a farce on modern politics masquerading as a dystopian science-fiction story, a tale in which a mysterious event from the past known only as "the Blast" has rendered the city of Moscow back into a peasant-village-like state, with most of its citizens having no recollection of a civilized past and no idea how to recreate such a thing even if they wanted. It's a world where people have literally forgotten how to make fire, yet have somehow retained all the red-tape of the old Soviet bureaucracy; a place where mice have become the national currency, a place where people stand in line for hours for no reason at all, to receive nothing at all, because "that's the way government works."

Throughout the novel we follow one of these "golubchiks" in detail, Benedikt the Decree Copying Man, whose job is to hand-copy the purloined works of their current leader (Fyodor Kuzmich Glorybe), who in typical style has re-named the city after himself, and lives in the crumbling remains of Red Square. And in fact as we follow the travails of our mentally challenged hero, we discover that a surprisingly large amount of 20th-century Russian life still remains in post-apocalyptic Moscow, only twisted now into black-comedy proportions, and with the people following these dictates through a combination of superstitious fear and just plain ignorance; how the KGB, for example, are now known as the "Saniturions," traveling the city in sleighs while wearing hooded red robes, confiscating forbidden books from average citizens with a weapon that's curiously sickle-like.

In fact, this is one of the most delightful things about The Slynx, is in all the ways modern Russia has been twisted and perverted in this future vision, and special credit needs to be given to translator Jamey Gambrell for the rich English wordplays on display: to cite just one example, how the "degenerates" of our modern times, those in a post-Soviet world who ignorantly long for the old Soviet days, have literally become their own species in the future known as "Degenerators," mostly beasts of burden who are in charge of pulling the sleighs of the upper class, but during their time off still stand around the stables smoking cigarettes and bitching about the good ol' days. The book is full of such sly jabs at contemporary Russian life -- of the old "moozeeums" that are now hated and feared by the general populace, of the genetic mutations each person has on display and are simply known as their "Consequence."

But then again...(less)

4 likes · like · see review

Sep 27, 2007 Phillip rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: fiction, 50-favorite-books, russian

Like Dostoevsky staring into the face of a post-apocalyptic future, The Slynx is a bawdy romp into the interior landscapes of a Russian post-nuclear future.

Part folk tale, part sci-fi yarn (not unlike Tarkovsky's Stalker, but cranked up on crystal meth) Tolstaya's language is as giddy as Gogol in Dead Souls and her universal themes are familiar to anyone that has rampaged Russian literature. The unique gift of this novel is really Tolstaya's sense of humor and her urgent prose.

4 likes · like · see review

Nov 07, 2012 Ema rated it 5 of 5 stars Recommends it for: Readers in search of literary gems

Recommended to Ema by: Anca

Shelves: favs, russian, female-authors, dystopia, my-library, bookish-gems

This is a truly wonderful book, I fell in love with the story! I haven't read many dystopian novels, but I'm sure that, in a couple of years, The Slynx will be considered one of the best from this genre. So you should read it before it becomes a "classic". :)
It's the only novel of Tatyana Tolstaya, a Russian writer who is remotely related to Leo Tolstoy. Not his great-grandniece, but still. Her paternal grandfather was Aleksei Nikolaevich Tolstoi, also an important writer.

There are many invented...more This is a truly wonderful book, I fell in love with the story! I haven't read many dystopian novels, but I'm sure that, in a couple of years, The Slynx will be considered one of the best from this genre. So you should read it before it becomes a "classic". :)
It's the only novel of Tatyana Tolstaya, a Russian writer who is remotely related to Leo Tolstoy. Not his great-grandniece, but still. Her paternal grandfather was Aleksei Nikolaevich Tolstoi, also an important writer.

There are many invented words in this novel, including the title The Slynx/Kys/Zâtul, so the translators surely had a tough job with this one. I avoided learning Russian in school (I chose French and English instead), so this is the only time I feel sorry for it, as it might have been a great experience to read the original.

Benedikt, the hero, lives in a post-apocalyptic Moscow, now a village called Fyodor-Kuzmichsk. The Blast, a mysterious event that happened 200 years ago, erased all modern progress and mankind was thrown into a near savage-like state once again. Yet, there are a couple of survivors from the Blast (the Oldeners and the Degenerators), people who have known the world as it used to be, while those who were born afterwards suffer Consequences (physical mutations) of all sorts. The golubchiks/gugustiucii (as they call themselves) have almost no modern commodity, they don't even know how to make fire. And they feed mostly on mice, which are considered the basis of poor people's lives (mice are also used as currency). People have all kind of fears and superstitions: books that survived the Blast are considered dangerous, they avoid Freethinking and are scared to death by the Slynx, an invisible monster who lives in the woods. People are also afraid of the unmentionable Disease, which will bring the Saniturions in order to "treat" them.

As I write this, I remember all the details and I feel like laughing again. It's so funny and imaginative that I was truly amazed. The first half is the best, the latter drags a bit, but it's still a wonderful book. (less)

1 like · like · see review

Apr 14, 2009 Rich rated it 4 of 5 stars

Shelves: law-school, literature

This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. To view it, click here. The Slynx is very entertaining and creative. Lots of standard post-apocalyptic themes were in this book. That was a little boring to read at first; mutations, mutant monsters, ivory-tower bad guys who controlled people's minds ("Freethinking..." so overdone), gross food, scavenging, stick warfare etc. Tolstaya wiped the civilized world's slate clean, just as so many other people have done, but thankfully put her own stamp on post-apocalysm. The emergence of likable characters (few characters eve...more The Slynx is very entertaining and creative. Lots of standard post-apocalyptic themes were in this book. That was a little boring to read at first; mutations, mutant monsters, ivory-tower bad guys who controlled people's minds ("Freethinking..." so overdone), gross food, scavenging, stick warfare etc. Tolstaya wiped the civilized world's slate clean, just as so many other people have done, but thankfully put her own stamp on post-apocalysm. The emergence of likable characters (few characters even existed in the first half of the novel) made the story unpredictable and hilarious as it progressed. Her societal commentary and allegories were not overdone as the plot unfurled. I laughed out loud several times reading the second half of the book. The humor balanced out during the second half so that it was neither too over-the-top nor was it too close to reality. I appreciated her writing style because it was descriptive without being too wordy.

The problem with the first 130 pages or so: It was less a story and more a collection of satirized, formulaic, post-apocalyptic nightmares. Everything she talked about seemed to exist in stasis. There was not much of a plot to begin. There was not much character development. Characters often fit into archetypes that were just used to express how every character's life was deplorable. The main character's job was just used as a device to communicate governmental edicts and only later becomes part of the plot. I sometimes felt like I was reading a disgusting post-apocalyptic Muppets novel, but that might have been unfair to the Muppets because they have more going on in their lives and are more talented than the characters in this book.

The redundancy about mice-as-currency and mice-as-food was one of the most boring and irritating thing I've ever read. In a book this short, I really don't think that many mouse-as-food descriptions are necessary. The concept wasn't that scientifically viable to begin with. It took me a while to realize the main character was an idiot, because there weren't any schools, and that's why it took him so long to understand things that would have been obvious to educated people (that may say something about my own intelligence). Some of the dark humor jokes were too nerdy, like how things that would shock a civilized person were introduced as commonplace for those who live in her post-apocalyptic world.

Despite this criticism, the second half of the book is worth waiting for. I just felt like Tolstaya could have woven in the explanations of her world without the vacuum of character and plot development that was the first half.(less)

2 likes · like · see review

Dec 07, 2007 Nathanimal rated it 5 of 5 stars

Shelves: some-favorite-novels, russian, nyrb

"Give black rabbit meat a good soaking, bring it to a boil seven times, set it in the sun for a week or two, then steam it in the oven — and it won't kill you.

"That is, if you catch a female. Because the male, boiled or not, it doesn't matter. People didn't used to know this, they were hungry and they ate the males too. But now they know: if you eat the males you'll be stuck with a wheezing and a gurgling in your chest the rest of your life. Your legs will wither. Thick black hairs will grow lik...more

3 likes · like · see review

Aug 28, 2012 Kirstie rated it 4 of 5 stars Recommends it for: Erin Watson (Torridly)

Around the same time that I was reading Murakami's nonfiction work, Underground, I also felt I could tackle a post-apocalyptic Russian novel. (I mean, what are summers for if not for some light reading, right?)

So, I have read a novella and short story collection by Tatyana Tolstaya called Sleepwalker in a Fog that I still need to get around to reviewing and I saw this novel used at Myopic Books in Chicago and picked it up. Contrary to what one might think, though, it's really not as bleak as it...more

like · see review

May 16, 2012 Carl Brush rated it 3 of 5 stars

Tatyana Tolstaya, it says here, belongs “to an aristocratic family that includes the writers Leo and Alexei Tolstoy.” So what could she do but write? Or maybe clean houses out of fear she’d never measure up. The Slynx came my way via a friend of my wife’s. LOL material, she said. (Notice how hip I am? LOL? Of course, I don’t know if it’s hip to say “hip” any more, but you do what you can.)
The Slynx returns yours truly to a post apocalyptic environment for the third time this year. (Butler’s Par...more Tatyana Tolstaya, it says here, belongs “to an aristocratic family that includes the writers Leo and Alexei Tolstoy.” So what could she do but write? Or maybe clean houses out of fear she’d never measure up. The Slynx came my way via a friend of my wife’s. LOL material, she said. (Notice how hip I am? LOL? Of course, I don’t know if it’s hip to say “hip” any more, but you do what you can.)
The Slynx returns yours truly to a post apocalyptic environment for the third time this year. (Butler’s Parable of the Sower, WW May, 2011; The Electric Church, August 2011) a while before that was McCarthy’s The Road in April, 2007.
It’s easy to see what’s in a world like this for the writer’s imagination. Boundaries evaporate. You have to account for neither social norms nor the limitations of the human body.

Take our protagonist, Benedikt. He’s got a tail. Just a little one. He assumes everyone has them. He doesn’t realize that his is one of the “consequences” that abound among his fellow Russians as a result of “the blast” two hundred years earlier. Benedikt’s tail makes for some funny scenes, but it doesn’t have the import of some of the other consequences. There’s a guy who breathes fire. Very important in a world where one depends on wood stoves for warmth. There’s another guy whose eyes light up like flashlights. Very handy at night. Then there are the “oldeners,” people still alive from the days of the blast, two hundred years earlier.

For all these oddities, this is a primitive society. Benedikt is a copier. He and his colleagues receive material from their ruler, Fyodor Kuzmich, Glorybe, who presents everything as his own creation. They copy the text on to bark for people to read. We find out that books are dangerous. They’re all left over from ante blast days and are radioactive. Just having one in the house, let alone reading it, can kill you. There are book police for hoarders.

Benedict enjoys his job. Enjoys reading. Of course, he puts “The Gingerbread Man” and Pushkin’s poetry on the same level. He once is asked for an article about freedom and points to a passage from a knitting instruction book which talks about the design of a sleeve which allows “freedom of movement.” He’s got the same limitations in just about every area of life and thought. Gutsy of Tolstaya to trust her novel to a dunce. Gutsy and admirable, and she pulls it off. Of course, the esteemed ruler, Fyodor...Glorybe, can’t make such discriminations either. Every once in a while he’ll put out a decree that shows what a Wizard of Oz-like fraud he is.

I command that the holiday of New Year be celebrated. That this here holiday be celebrated on the First of March. Kinda like the May holidays.

And so on for three or four hundred words.

We follow Benedikt through momentous events of his life. He marries into a rich family. His wife manifests a wealth of “consequences” which make life both entertaining and nerve-wracking. The claws are a bit of a problem, for example. Still, he no longer has to live on mice the way commoners do. (Yes, mice. Lots of revolting recipes here. Mice because have you ever tried to kill a rabbit? Too fast to catch and you’d starve before you were lucky enough to hit one with a rock. No one seems to think of nets or traps.) Turns out the family has a library. Despite what people believe, books aren’t harmful any more, but they still are forbidden the commoners. For one thing, commoners misuse them--burn them for warmth, deface them for fun, let them get moldy in attics and under the bed. For another thing, They want the books for themselves.

So Benedikt gets addicted to reading. And he becomes a book cop. And he encounters The Slynx, which is nothing like you might think it is.

Whatever you might think of this work, I can guarantee you you’ve never read the like of it. It’s a bit Animal Farmish in its anti-government satire, and you will do some LOL’ing.

(less)

1 like · like · see review

Mar 15, 2011 Lori L (She Treads Softly) rated it 4 of 5 stars

The Slynx by Tatyana Tolstaya is a Russian dystopian novel. Set two hundred years after some kind of nuclear accident or blast, a government scribe named Benedikt lives in what was Moscow. Moscow is now called Fyodor-Kuzmichsk, after its dictator Fyodor. Kuzmich uses scribes to copy "his" writing, which is actually that of past literary works.

In this society, mice are dietary staples and a source of trading currency. Citizens born after the Blast often have mutations, that are called "consequenc...more

1 like · like · see review

May 21, 2010 Tyler Jones rated it 4 of 5 stars

Shelves: russian-literature

The Slynx is a novel of extreme opposites, which is only fitting for a post-apocalyptic satire. Books that manage to be both heartbreaking and hilarious are rare: Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita is one, as is Capek's The War with the Newts- and The Slynx certainly deserves to be in their company. It runs the gamut from the sublime to the ridiculous.

The novel starts out in somewhat typical dystopian fashion. The time is a few hundred years after "The Blast". The place is the town of Fyodor-Ku...more The Slynx is a novel of extreme opposites, which is only fitting for a post-apocalyptic satire. Books that manage to be both heartbreaking and hilarious are rare: Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita is one, as is Capek's The War with the Newts- and The Slynx certainly deserves to be in their company. It runs the gamut from the sublime to the ridiculous.

The novel starts out in somewhat typical dystopian fashion. The time is a few hundred years after "The Blast". The place is the town of Fyodor-Kuzmichsk. Our hero, Benedikt, is a simple Golubchik. By day he is a scribe- copying the words of the glorious leader Fyodor Kuzmich, Glorybe, Long May He Live, into pamphlets that the other poor Golubchiks can read. His time off is spent catching mice (both to eat and to use as currency), dreaming of the beautiful Olenka, and living in fear of the Saniturions who arrive without warning to take "free-thinking" Golubchiks off for "treatment". Through a strange series of events Benedikt is lifted out of poverty to join the ruling class of Murzas. Here he is shown the ignorance of his old Golubchik ways, learns the value of a "spiritual" life devoted to books, and joins the ranks of the Saniturions himself.

What is not typical of such a dystopian story is that The Slynx is one of the funniest books you will ever read. While some of the humour lies in the misinterpretation of Russian poets, the reader does not need to have a degree in Russian literature to get most of the jokes. Tolstaya herself has an impeccable lterary pedigree(her family tree includes the translator Mikhail Lozinsky, as well as the great Leo Tolstoy), yet she savagely makes fun of those who have a blind reverence for literature. She is even willing to take a poke at her own family when, in one scene, two men in a philosophical argument resort to calling each other names until one of them trumps the other by calling him "nothing more than a Tolstoyian!"

What starts as a fairly straight-forward (if somewhat weird) story veers off into surreal directions, but it is a tale that stays true to it's own logic. Not every reader will appreciate, or even like, this book- such is the case with novels as original and brilliant as this. But if you have a taste for a little silliness in your post-apocalyptic totalitarianism, then, my dear Golubchick, this is the book for you.
(less)

1 like · like · see review

Feb 16, 2010 El rated it 4 of 5 stars

Shelves: 21st-centurylit, nyrb-editions, society-went-boom, russia

Moscow. Some 200 years after "the Blast", a vague sort of accident that turns life as we know it into a post-apocalyptic wasteland. Most of the characters don't even seem to know what "the Blast" was, or what life was like before it occurred, or how to return to a civilized life. They are controlled by their government now (oh, how I love you, Russian literature) under the strict ruling of the tyrant, Fyodor Kuzmich, Glorybe. His decrees are law, and Freethinkers are not allowed - anyone caught...more

1 like · like · see review

May 06, 2013 Nicole rated it 3 of 5 stars

Shelves: russian-fiction, science-fiction, unconventional-fiction, contemporary-literature

I will not deny the greatness of "The Slynx". While I read it in English, I have to give kudos to translator Jamey Gambrell for capturing an book written entirely in dialect, and not making it sound forced. The language that Ms. Gambrell used had a rhythm and flow to it that felt natural and preserved the humor that I imagine the original Russian must have. The cultural wasteland that is described in "The Slynx" is wretched, and the base nature of the narrator, Benedikt, illustrates this perfect...more I will not deny the greatness of "The Slynx". While I read it in English, I have to give kudos to translator Jamey Gambrell for capturing an book written entirely in dialect, and not making it sound forced. The language that Ms. Gambrell used had a rhythm and flow to it that felt natural and preserved the humor that I imagine the original Russian must have. The cultural wasteland that is described in "The Slynx" is wretched, and the base nature of the narrator, Benedikt, illustrates this perfectly. Tolstaya is unrelenting in her portrait of a landscape, both internally and externally, blighted by nuclear disaster. Her description of its aftermath is woven into the tapestry of the novel seamlessly, never stopping to make a clumsy explanation of how things came to be, but illustrating them in an organic fashion as our anti-hero Benedikt goes about his life.

I enjoyed "The Slynx" for a while, but it never grabbed me completely. Benedikt was somewhat sympathetic and enjoyable at first, but after his marriage to the daughter of the leader of the thought police, called the Saniturions, I ceased to care. His complete lack of self-reflection and empathy made it so I could barely relate to him. The dialect, as lively and inventive as it was, became oppressive. I wanted out of Benedikt's head and life. By the end of the novel, I could sympathize with the OIdeners, the people who were alive before the disaster, and by virtue of their mutations, were semi-immortal. They lived in perpetual mourning of the lives they lost before the Blast, and were unable to assimilate into the present-day society because of its corse and brutal nature. "You can't do anything with them, these Oldeners. They start shouting at the wrong time, swear in strange words, and push you around for who knows what reason. They're always unhappy: they don't understand a good joke, they don't like our dances and games, they never have a good time like people are supposed to, they're no fun, and all you hear from them is "Oh, horrors!" when nothing horrible is happening at all." In a society where the pinnacle of humor is someone hurting themselves ("Of course, if someone hurts me or my body, it's not funny. If it's someone else, it's funny. Why? Because me--that's me; and him--that's not me, it's him"), and a game consists of people smothering each other til "he's all red and sweating, and his hair's sticking out like a harpy's. People rarely die, our guys are strong, they fight, there's a lot of strength in their muscles."

I would have preferred that one of the Oldeners be my guide to this nightmare, even if they're no fun. But that's a personal preference, and has nothing to do with the artistic merit of this novel. If I could, I would give this book three stars in accordance with my personal taste, and four point five for literary achievement. Tolstaya managed to brilliantly capture a true dystopia, beyond anything I've read or seen before in how it is pictured. As it stands, since this is my personal Goodreads account, I'll stick with the three. (less)

like · see review

May 26, 2012 zxvasdf rated it 5 of 5 stars

Shelves: favorites

This book is funny as hell. And scary as hell. Should the world as we know it go away, what do we leave the people in the future, with our artifacts of pride and hubris? What will they make of it? What comical and lamentable distortions shall arise?

The characters of this Russia are filled with a deep-seated cynicism and distrust which is almost indistinguishable from a delirious sense of naivete and fealty—a fiercely schizophrenic state that is an oxymoron of Russian existence. Tatyana Tolstaya...more This book is funny as hell. And scary as hell. Should the world as we know it go away, what do we leave the people in the future, with our artifacts of pride and hubris? What will they make of it? What comical and lamentable distortions shall arise?

The characters of this Russia are filled with a deep-seated cynicism and distrust which is almost indistinguishable from a delirious sense of naivete and fealty—a fiercely schizophrenic state that is an oxymoron of Russian existence. Tatyana Tolstaya manipulates this essence of Russia with impossible wizardy to put the reader in juxtaposes of mirthful horror. This is a skill that is unique to Russian writers.

Benedikt discovers books. He can't get enough of it, he is like an insatiable inferno which devours and devours. He reads and reads and reads. But the problem with Benedikt is that he doesn't retain the valuable lessons and knowledge the books give. He is content to peer in each, the act of passing the gaze across the parade of characters enough for him. Benedikt is special. It's like his brain is hollow. He's capable of figuring things out, but also interprets his thoughts through a filter of literalism and superstition, and is too impressionable.

The Slynx is a parable of books in a fool's hand, when the quest is not for one of knowledge but the addict's thirst for more and more. I propose, in contrary to the opinions of many who have reviewed this, that this book is the anti-thesis of Fahrenheit 451. Books are the bane of existence not because of the knowledge inherent, but because the people don't know what to do with books. They'd ruin it, destroy the lovely pages for igniting the stove or, horrors abound!, tacked to the wall for when one does the necessary.

The very final passage has left me venturing into the realm of angels and demons, or perhaps that of gods in the land of fools... With a single sentence of Lev Lvovich and Nikita Ivanich, Miss Tolstaya has added a dimension to the narrative that potentially transforms the entire book in retrospect. What the hell is going on here, people?! It's not a bad ending, it's the best possbile, but it's left me beating my head, wondering if I missed anything due to my minimal knowledge of Russian cultural and historical reference. (less)

1 like · like · see review

Jun 20, 2011 MJ Nicholls rated it 5 of 5 stars

Shelves: novels, borscht-and-kvass, worshipped, nyrb

This exceptional little pearl should go straight atop your reading list, knocking off that willowy story collection, those fat-arsed historical doorstoppers, and that free verse thing carved into tree bark. Get rid of them all. Put them in a glorious bonfire and read this instead.

The granddaughter of Leo T has all the talent of her antecedent, cribbing also the mordant wit of Bulgakov, the lyrical euphony of Nabokov, the despairing glamour of Zamyatin. The Slynx is a first-rate novel on all fron...more

35 likes · like · see review

May 01, 2009 Liz rated it 4 of 5 stars

This is such a strange and beautiful little book. I am a total sucker for distopian, postapocalyptic lit in general, but this is one of the most creative, funny, uniquely-voiced renderings of the frightning, dismal future I have ever come across.
Set in Russia after "The Blast" has destroyed human existance as we know it, "The Slynx" takes place in a world that is at once outrageously bizarre and primitave, and eerily recognizable. Citizens, or "golubchiks," live in a semi-feudal society where th...more This is such a strange and beautiful little book. I am a total sucker for distopian, postapocalyptic lit in general, but this is one of the most creative, funny, uniquely-voiced renderings of the frightning, dismal future I have ever come across.
Set in Russia after "The Blast" has destroyed human existance as we know it, "The Slynx" takes place in a world that is at once outrageously bizarre and primitave, and eerily recognizable. Citizens, or "golubchiks," live in a semi-feudal society where they spend their days toiling for the megalomaniacal-yet-affable autocrat Fydor Kuzmich, Glorybe; caousing, theiving, and roughing each other up; and eating mouse stew seasoned with crushed worrums. Most everyone is born with "consequences" - deformities that run the gammut from additional appendages to faces covered in coxcombs to clawed feet. There are still a few oldeners around -- those who were born in the time before the blast and whose only consequence appears to be the inability to die from old age -- and they spend their days reminiscing about the old days of televised figure skating and fax machines, and complaining about the primitive, backward thinking golubchiks who surround them. The story mainly follows Benedikt, a bumbling and likeable young man who is employed as a scrivener. When Fydor Kuzmich, Glorybe, issues a decree or writes a new poem or story, it is Benedikt's job to copy it out into booklets that other golubchiks can purchase at the market by bartering with mice. Books, along with Freethinking, have been outlawed and distroyed since the nuclear holocaust, as they are believed to carry radiation that will infect the reader with dreaded illness. When Benedikt discovers that this is not the case, that many members of the upper classes possess secret libraries, and that Kuzmich's "writings" are actually the works of literary giants from the oldener times his world changes forever.
While I found the novel a bit plodding at times -- Tolstaya often seems cloyingly enchanted with her own ability to tweak and bend language in surprsing and clever directions -- the prose is mostly enchanting and the voice impressively fresh. Perhaps the most impressive feat of all here is Jamey Gambrell's brilliant translation which, in a text littered with words like "feelosophy" and "firelings," seems an utterly daunting exercise.
The most delicious aspect of the book to me, though, was its litarary playfulness (although I'll readily admit that there was a good deal that I missed thanks to my shoddy knowledge of classic Russian poetry and contemporary Russian fiction). The passage on how Benedikt organizes his father-in-law's library is a marvel of punning and delighting in the sounds of words. I also really admired the book's unexpected (though prehaps decidedly less so for a Russian audience and sensibility) take on the redemptive power of art. While in a Western distopia we expect the discovery of books to lead to salvation and a rekindling of culture and society, Tolstaya -- coming from a country where literature, art, and the communist regieme have such a complicated and tangled history -- problemitizes Benedikt's newfound passion for literature. In the world of "The Slynx" great writing can bring about change, but it not always change for the better and for every impulse to create and enjoy beauty there is an equal and opposite impulse toward greed and human darkness. (less)

2 likes · like · see review

Mar 23, 2011 Zach rated it 2 of 5 stars

Shelves: post-apocalyptic

Here is a paragraph from this book:

After the entrance there were more corridors and the sweet smell grew nearer. Glancing upward, Benedikt clasped his hands: books! The shelves were packed with books! Lord Almighty! Saints alive! his knees gave way, he trembled and whined softly: you couldn't read them all in a whole lifetime! A forest of pages, an endless, indiscriminate blizzard, uncounted! Ah...! Ah!!! Aaaaa! Maybe... just maybe... somewhere here... maybe the secret book is here somewhere! Th...more

4 likes · like · see review

Oct 11, 2011 Szytrus rated it 4 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: foreign-literature

I'm glad I read afterword from my polish translator. After that I realized that my supposes that it's a book about Russia and about human were right (amazing!). Also afterword pointed me some things that i probably wouldn't see and things that I would never see.
My intuition tells me that it's criticism of some period in Russia history, and not necessary only Soviet Union. There's a lot about relations between social classes. Suddenly intelligence didn't appear as the worst at all. This time, th...more

like · see review

Feb 17, 2009 Michael rated it 5 of 5 stars

Shelves: read-in-2009, nyrb-classics

This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. To view it, click here. Published a mere 6 years ago, Tatyana Tolstaya's The Slynx has already been dubbed a `classic' by the New York Review of Books; perhaps with good reason since the book, a dystopian Russian fable depicting peasant life post nuclear blast, seems timeless in its political and social themes. Tolstaya, great grandniece of Leo Tolstoy and a frequent contributor to the NYRB, sets a darkly comic tone in this her first novel.

As the author paints vividly on a bleak canvas, what appears is a horrifying, re...more Published a mere 6 years ago, Tatyana Tolstaya's The Slynx has already been dubbed a `classic' by the New York Review of Books; perhaps with good reason since the book, a dystopian Russian fable depicting peasant life post nuclear blast, seems timeless in its political and social themes. Tolstaya, great grandniece of Leo Tolstoy and a frequent contributor to the NYRB, sets a darkly comic tone in this her first novel.

As the author paints vividly on a bleak canvas, what appears is a horrifying, reconstituted world. The main character, comrade (Golubchik) Benedikt works for Fyodor Kuzmich Glorybe, the head feudal lord ("The Greatest Murza"), as a scribe copying out classic literature and poetry, which Kuzmich claims as his own. On his free time, he catches mice for dinner and tries to meet women, preferably ones with few consequences. Because of the great "Blast" most citizens live with "consequences"; like Varvara "with one eye, not a hair on her head and coxcombs growing all over it".

The Golubchiks live in huts called "izbas" and dine on "worrums" as well as the ubiquitous mice, which are also used as tender. There are the Degenerators, half-human half-canine, who are enslaved and used to transport Golubchiks via troika. The Saniturions are a sort of KGB, sniffing out any hint of "freethinking". Then there are the "Oldeners": humans who have survived the great blast and are somehow now immune to natural death. Most Oldeners have been around for 200 years or more and feel great disdain for the Murzas.

The fearsome Slynx of the title lies outside the boundaries of Fyodor-Kuzmichsk (formerly Moscow). It's the fear of moving on, expanding, change, and discovering just what does exist at the nether regions of the "flat pancake of the earth"; the serpentine Slynx is the fear of knowledge and it devours all that dare trespass on its turf.

As Benedikt discovers and becomes obsessed with books, which are forbidden as sources of freethinking by the Murza, he leaves himself vulnerable to the rebellious machinations of his newly acquired father-in-law. Benedikt finds himself on a quest for the ultimate book, the book of the great White Bird, that will reveal to him the correct way to live his life. Here, the meat of Tolstaya's cautionary tale emulsifies like a big bowl of mouse stew. By the end of the novel she auspiciously delivers her final ironic caveat: Those who study history are doomed to repeat it (less)

like · see review

Sep 19, 2008 Jeremy rated it 1 of 5 stars

Maybe it's just me, but I couldn't make it beyond 20 pages. Something lost in translation, or it isn't very good?

2 likes · like · see review

Dec 09, 2012 Anna rated it 2 of 5 stars

I love dystopian novels, but felt that I was missing something with this one. It reminded me quite strongly of 'Riddley Walker' by Russell Hoban, which is notable for its amazing use of language, indeed the invention of a degraded form of English. As I don't know any Russian, I was reading 'The Slynx' in translation and had the nagging feeling that I was missing all its subtleties as a result. It was still an original vision of dystopia, but I couldn't help thinking that if I understood soviet s...more

like · see review

Oct 23, 2010 Sean rated it 2 of 5 stars

I had such high hopes for this one. A modern, Russian, post-apocalyptic comedy featuring the horrible slynx that lives in the forest, poisonous flying rabbits, and plenty of absurd mutations. But there's no story. Only description. It gets boring fast. Tries to draw on all of those wacky Russian types of characters and situations and attitudes, but doesn't have much of interest to say about them. The post-apocalyptic angle is hardly used at all, except to have the characters figure things out (t...more

like · see review

Mar 14, 2007 Alina added it

delicious russian language

1 like · like · see review

May 18, 2013 Christoph rated it 4 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Imagine a post-apocalyptic world; the nukes have been dropped and the people of what was once Moscow have acquired strange unique mutations that serve no biological advantage. This post-apocalyptic world no longer has the luxuries of the good life, even commodity exchange has been reduced to trading in rats. Those that have survived have learned to scrape out a life in this new environment. An ethereal creature, the Slynx, prowls the fringes of this new society acting as the equivalent of a boog...more Imagine a post-apocalyptic world; the nukes have been dropped and the people of what was once Moscow have acquired strange unique mutations that serve no biological advantage. This post-apocalyptic world no longer has the luxuries of the good life, even commodity exchange has been reduced to trading in rats. Those that have survived have learned to scrape out a life in this new environment. An ethereal creature, the Slynx, prowls the fringes of this new society acting as the equivalent of a boogey man for them. It is a typically hierarchal society that has emerged out of this destruction that seeks to save the last few remnants of the old culture by reproducing these found works in a form of censored, low-tech samizdat. But eventually, one of the cogs in this wheel of cultural reproduction (and could it be rewriting?) begins to learn of a vast trove of knowledge that has been hidden away from the plebs since the catastrophe. Will the new man-mutant unleash this knowledge to all or will the old power structures endure or are those two outcomes mutually exclusive?

If this book had been written in the USSR, it would have been banned. To some extent, this is bad news for Tatyana Tolstaya, because it makes it so much less fashionable to read in the US. But none of these political conditions affect the quality of this story. Ms Tolstaya has formulated a biting parody of modern Russia and its cultural realities of patriarchy, populism, nihilism, conspiracy, and an emerging materialism that has forced an incredible tension on its cultural legacy. Be assured, this is the kind of writing that inspired Pussy Riot, et al. But at the same time, she tackles more universal issues such as epistemology and generational communication.

Tolstaya with this work has put herself in the echelons of Bulgakov or Solzhenitsyn (himself, unbanned by Putin as one of his first acts in office back in 2000). It is hard not to rate this one as five star, but I feel some of the language is tortured, likely lost in translation. That said, the translation likely took quite some liberties to be able to recreate many of the idioms or literary idiosyncrasies. I suspect if my Russian were a bit more refined, the Russian text would be a five star read all the way.(less)

like · see review

Mar 20, 2013 Ellice rated it 3 of 5 stars

A modern Russian novel about life in a small settlement a couple of hundred years post-apocalypse might sound pretty daunting. And The Slynx is not un-grim: rabbits fly, "chicken" eggs now contain black goo that is made into alcohol, human mutations abound, and the mainstay of most people's diet is mice. However, Tatyana Tolstaya does a nice job painting a vivid picture of the settlement and its inhabitants, and Jamey Gambrell provides a translation that reads very cleanly and smoothly. The firs...more

like · see review

Apr 08, 2012 Michael rated it 4 of 5 stars

Shelves: fiction, read-in-2012, read-in-english

Now this is an interesting book! After having read Brave New World and 1984, someone urged me to read The Slynx, promising me similar grim dystopian delights -- and the book did not fail to deliver.

Some background: the book is set at some time in the not-too-distant future. This is the time after the "Blast", and the fabric of society has since been rewoven: there is a leader (Fyodor Kuzmich, Glorybe), there are four-legged Degenerators, and there are the people, whose fate is to live in primiti...more

like · see review

title link	preview: The Slynx
avg rating	preview: The Slynx Goodreads rating: 3.79 (923 ratings)
small image	preview: click here [close]
med image	preview: click here [close]
BBCode	[url=http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/310722.The_Slynx?utm_medium=api&utm_source=blog_book][img]http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1320532928l/310722.jpg[/img][/url] [url=http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/310722.The_Slynx?utm_medium=api&utm_source=blog_book]The Slynx by Tatyana Tolstaya[/url]

The Slynx

Friend Reviews

Lists with This Book

Community Reviews

new topic
Discuss This Book

combine
Other Editions (14)

Genres

Readers also enjoyed similar books

About Tatyana Tolstaya

Books by Tatyana Tolstaya

Share This Book

Share This Book on Your Website

Trivia About The Slynx

Quotes from The Slynx