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  <id type="integer">310722</id>
  <isbn>1590171969</isbn>
  <isbn13>9781590171967</isbn13>
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  <title>
    <![CDATA[The Slynx (New York Review Books Classics)]]>
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  <average_rating>3.78</average_rating>
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    <![CDATA[Two hundred years after civilization ended in an event known as the Blast, Benedikt isn't one to complain. He's got a job—transcribing old books and presenting them as the words of the great new leader, Fyodor Kuzmich, Glorybe—and though he doesn't enjoy the privileged status of a Murza, at least he's not a serf or a half-human four-legged Degenerator harnessed to a troika. He has a house, too, with enough mice to cook up a tasty meal, and he's happily free of mutations: no extra fingers, no gills, no cockscombs sprouting from his eyelids. And he's managed—at least so far—to steer clear of the ever-vigilant Saniturions, who track down anyone who manifests the slightest sign of Freethinking, and the legendary screeching Slynx that waits in the wilderness beyond.<br/><br/>Tatyana Tolstaya's <em>The Slynx</em> reimagines dystopian fantasy as a wild, horripilating amusement park ride. Poised between Nabokov's <em>Pale Fire</em> and Burgess's <em>A Clockwork Orange</em>, <em>The Slynx</em> is a brilliantly inventive and shimmeringly ambiguous work of art: an account of a degraded world that is full of echoes of the sublime literature of Russia's past; a grinning portrait of human inhumanity; a tribute to art in both its sovereignty and its helplessness; a vision of the past as the future in which the future is now.]]>
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        <name><![CDATA[Tatyana Tolstaya]]></name>
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        <name><![CDATA[Jamey Gambrell]]></name>
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    <average_rating>3.79</average_rating>
    <ratings_count>132</ratings_count>
    <text_reviews_count>34</text_reviews_count>
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  </authors>  <published>2000</published>
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  <read_at>Tue Dec 18 13:04:52 -0800 2007</read_at>
  <date_added>Fri Dec 07 11:15:33 -0800 2007</date_added>
  <date_updated>Fri Dec 07 11:23:07 -0800 2007</date_updated>
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    <body><![CDATA[&quot;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.<br/><br/>&quot;That is, if you catch a female. Because the male, boiled or not, it doesn't matter. People didn't used to know this, t...<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/10096129">more...</a>]]></body>
    
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