(8/10) This novel was strange. Perhaps I would understand its strangeness more if I was Russian, perhaps not. Petersburg is the story of a city, which is best told through a father and son of warring but equally delusional pretensions. The plot and the writing get more cyclical and self-involved as the novel goes on, becoming less of a narrative and more of a frothing, overheated experience. I'm still not sure whether I would reccomend this, but it's certainly unique, and I'm sure a few more dedicated tries at it would unlock the secret to everything. Its elusiveness makes it one for hardcore modernists only, but those hardcore modernists will love this one to death.