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The Culprits
Hank Wallins is a broken man working the night shift in a meaningless job. Tormented by the tinnitus constantly ringing in his ears, he sleepwalks through life, too scarred by a tragic love affair to try again. When a madman pushes him into the path of an oncoming subway train, this scrape with death re-awakens Hank to the world. Craving a reengagement with passion, he reaches out to a young slightly cross-eyed Russian beauty who he locates on a website. He ventures by plane to meet the lovely and mysterious Anna in her hometown of St. Petersburg.
Anna Verkoskova seeks to flee not only the hopelessness of her economic situation, but also the reminders of her own failed love affair with Ruslan, a womanizing Dagastani rock star look-alike from the Chechen region. Finding no particular reason to dislike the kind, lumbering Hank, she agrees to follow him to Canada. But once she has left Russia behind, she is overwhelmed by homesickness and a dread of disappearing into the grey Toronto winter. Then she receives a frightening Ruslan has been kidnapped. She races home immediately, carrying a bag stuffed with cash. Hank’s cash.
Held captive and tortured by the FSB, Ruslan has been crippled by his tormentors and injected with N20, a mysterious CIA-developed serum that fills its victims’ brains with the totality of human knowledge, rendering them insane. Ruslan is traded to Chechen radicals and ransomed. As Anna is now associated with a “rich” Westerner, she is now a target for the ransom. Ruslan’s former political disengagement has been replaced by a new sort of apathy, one that renders him a pawn to whomever has control of the omniscient demons in his ears screaming for blood.
Returned to St. Petersburg and reunited with Ruslan, Anna quickly realizes that her former lover has been lost to her forever, as has her nation. With few options, she returns to the safety of Hank and Canada and discovers that, with her passion for Ruslan faded, she has room for new passions to emerge. But she also carries with her a life-altering secret.
The novel unfolds through the words of a narrator who describes himself as an abomination, yet he is heroic and compassionate, and capable of immense acts of love, including the creation of this very narrative itself–a gift for his unborn half-sister. His horrors have been formed as a result of untold millennia of blood hatred. But it is through his existence that our protagonists transcend their own human culpability.
A kaleidoscopic and riotous tale, voiced by one of the most unusual narrators in literary history, Robert Hough’s The Culprits puts shape and flesh to the murky unknowns surrounding a real-life terrorist incident and all that led up to it, shining a light into some of humanity’s most inscrutable sins. This novel is at once a mind-blowing hallucination and a classic love story, exploring the human thirsts for love and passion, for allegiance and trust, and for terrible vengeance.
Anna Verkoskova seeks to flee not only the hopelessness of her economic situation, but also the reminders of her own failed love affair with Ruslan, a womanizing Dagastani rock star look-alike from the Chechen region. Finding no particular reason to dislike the kind, lumbering Hank, she agrees to follow him to Canada. But once she has left Russia behind, she is overwhelmed by homesickness and a dread of disappearing into the grey Toronto winter. Then she receives a frightening Ruslan has been kidnapped. She races home immediately, carrying a bag stuffed with cash. Hank’s cash.
Held captive and tortured by the FSB, Ruslan has been crippled by his tormentors and injected with N20, a mysterious CIA-developed serum that fills its victims’ brains with the totality of human knowledge, rendering them insane. Ruslan is traded to Chechen radicals and ransomed. As Anna is now associated with a “rich” Westerner, she is now a target for the ransom. Ruslan’s former political disengagement has been replaced by a new sort of apathy, one that renders him a pawn to whomever has control of the omniscient demons in his ears screaming for blood.
Returned to St. Petersburg and reunited with Ruslan, Anna quickly realizes that her former lover has been lost to her forever, as has her nation. With few options, she returns to the safety of Hank and Canada and discovers that, with her passion for Ruslan faded, she has room for new passions to emerge. But she also carries with her a life-altering secret.
The novel unfolds through the words of a narrator who describes himself as an abomination, yet he is heroic and compassionate, and capable of immense acts of love, including the creation of this very narrative itself–a gift for his unborn half-sister. His horrors have been formed as a result of untold millennia of blood hatred. But it is through his existence that our protagonists transcend their own human culpability.
A kaleidoscopic and riotous tale, voiced by one of the most unusual narrators in literary history, Robert Hough’s The Culprits puts shape and flesh to the murky unknowns surrounding a real-life terrorist incident and all that led up to it, shining a light into some of humanity’s most inscrutable sins. This novel is at once a mind-blowing hallucination and a classic love story, exploring the human thirsts for love and passion, for allegiance and trust, and for terrible vengeance.
320 pages, Hardcover
First published September 11, 2007
3 people are currently reading
73 people want to read
About the author
Robert Hough
9 books51 followersToronto author, bon-vivant, family man, spelunking enthusiast. My seventh novel, The Marriage of Rose Camilleri, was published in November of 2021.
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Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews
November 15, 2012
Both difficult to read at times and deeply moving, this novel has an unusual narrator. It follows Anya, a Russian bride, from St. Petersburg, to Toronto, twice. Hough has a good ear for Russian ESL speakers and the last chapter of the novel is the best I've read of it's setting. This review is vague to avoid spoilers, but I highly recommend this novel.
January 3, 2020
I enjoyed everything about this book. It grabbed my attention on the first page, and held it to the end. The narrator was an interesting choice, providing insightful commentary as well as some comic relief throughout this tragic tale. (His comments on Canadian culture were spot on.) Although the main characters were hard to warm up to, I ended up appreciating their struggles, if not exactly liking them.
Hough is a great storyteller, and I look forward to reading more from this Canadian author.
Hough is a great storyteller, and I look forward to reading more from this Canadian author.
December 31, 2019
Loved this for the incredible sense of place -- both the market in St. Petersburg and east-end Toronto. Complex plot and some memorable characters.
March 4, 2009
I put this on my "romance" shelf because, as the cover opines, this is a love story. It isn't a cheap political thriller, nor is it a tawdry bodice-ripper. It's a wonderful and fantastic love story that has a happy, if bittersweet, ending that isn't too sappy or Disney-movie like.
In The Culprits, Hank Wallins is an asocial former seaman living in Toronto, who suffers from tinnitus and works a boring job every night. After an accident in the subway, Hank finds a girlfriend via FromRussiaWithLove.com. Although Anna enjoys Hank's company at first, she finds she can't love him--she still loves a Dagestani man named Ruslan, who soon becomes involved with terrorists.
Robert Hough takes us on a safari deep into Russia, a place many of us will never go in person. With all of the attention focussed on the Middle East these past years, it's easy to forget that other places have similar internal and ethnic tensions foreign to us in the West. It's easy to forget that not everyone is as lucky as we are; not everyone lives in a country where they are safe from being picked up off the street and tortured at random. Hough reminds us of this without rubbing it in our faces. However, this theme plays an important part in the shaping of several characters of the story.
I didn't like the narrator, especially not at first. My heart gradually warmed to him, but I still didn't like the device much. Thanks to the appositives he injects once and a while (even if they're in Russian), I figured out the identity of the narrator rather quickly. His identity wasn't the problem, however. It was his constant interruptions, which seemed to ruin the unity of the narrative. After finishing the book, I understand why Hough chose to have that narrator, and I suppose it was the correct decision.
Both Hank and Anna are interesting characters who undergo fairly dramatic changes over the course of the story. Hank initially courts Anna because of her resemblance to a woman he lost (perhaps the only woman he ever loved). Anna, on the other hand, just wants to escape from Russia, especially after she learns that Ruslan will never return to her the affection she feels for him. This isn't enough to bring them together, though.
I thought Hough was very clever to make this point, and if he had just let them live happily after Anna first moves in with Hank, the book would have been much weaker. They couldn't be happy, not at first, because they weren't doing this for each other--they were doing it for themselves, and because of how they felt about other people. Once Anna returns to Russia to confront Ruslan a final time, and Hank finally banishes the spectre of his dead lover by falling in love with Anna, not the woman of whom Anna reminds him, then they can fall into a state of bliss.
If ever I've heard an apt title for a book, The Culprits is one. Hough plays on this motif quite heavily; indeed, "the culprits" is a catchphrase that shows up all over these pages. These are obstacles that fulfil the proverb quoted at the beginning of the book: "Life is more difficult than a walk in the forest."
The Culprits is a serious book in many ways, yet it's also fun and vivacious. It invokes elements of tragedy, but it's also about hope. The ending, in particular, is very sad and whimsical, but it contains the promise of redemption. It takes a skilled writer to create a book that transcends any particular form in order to tell a complex, organic story. In short, The Culprits blew me away.
In The Culprits, Hank Wallins is an asocial former seaman living in Toronto, who suffers from tinnitus and works a boring job every night. After an accident in the subway, Hank finds a girlfriend via FromRussiaWithLove.com. Although Anna enjoys Hank's company at first, she finds she can't love him--she still loves a Dagestani man named Ruslan, who soon becomes involved with terrorists.
Robert Hough takes us on a safari deep into Russia, a place many of us will never go in person. With all of the attention focussed on the Middle East these past years, it's easy to forget that other places have similar internal and ethnic tensions foreign to us in the West. It's easy to forget that not everyone is as lucky as we are; not everyone lives in a country where they are safe from being picked up off the street and tortured at random. Hough reminds us of this without rubbing it in our faces. However, this theme plays an important part in the shaping of several characters of the story.
I didn't like the narrator, especially not at first. My heart gradually warmed to him, but I still didn't like the device much. Thanks to the appositives he injects once and a while (even if they're in Russian), I figured out the identity of the narrator rather quickly. His identity wasn't the problem, however. It was his constant interruptions, which seemed to ruin the unity of the narrative. After finishing the book, I understand why Hough chose to have that narrator, and I suppose it was the correct decision.
Both Hank and Anna are interesting characters who undergo fairly dramatic changes over the course of the story. Hank initially courts Anna because of her resemblance to a woman he lost (perhaps the only woman he ever loved). Anna, on the other hand, just wants to escape from Russia, especially after she learns that Ruslan will never return to her the affection she feels for him. This isn't enough to bring them together, though.
I thought Hough was very clever to make this point, and if he had just let them live happily after Anna first moves in with Hank, the book would have been much weaker. They couldn't be happy, not at first, because they weren't doing this for each other--they were doing it for themselves, and because of how they felt about other people. Once Anna returns to Russia to confront Ruslan a final time, and Hank finally banishes the spectre of his dead lover by falling in love with Anna, not the woman of whom Anna reminds him, then they can fall into a state of bliss.
If ever I've heard an apt title for a book, The Culprits is one. Hough plays on this motif quite heavily; indeed, "the culprits" is a catchphrase that shows up all over these pages. These are obstacles that fulfil the proverb quoted at the beginning of the book: "Life is more difficult than a walk in the forest."
The Culprits is a serious book in many ways, yet it's also fun and vivacious. It invokes elements of tragedy, but it's also about hope. The ending, in particular, is very sad and whimsical, but it contains the promise of redemption. It takes a skilled writer to create a book that transcends any particular form in order to tell a complex, organic story. In short, The Culprits blew me away.
November 4, 2012
A fantastic story that shows in spite of the anger, violence and the mundane of the modern world, living it can stil bring . . . something.
pp 1-3:
This, by the way, is the tale of Tushino and the bombs that went off there. To understand that day - to appreciate, in even the smallest of ways, the deaths that occured there - you have to know one other small thing. None of this would have happened had a delusional stranger not shoved Hank Wallins, my six-foot-and-five-inch-tall stepfather, in front of a charging subway train.
This happened on May the fifth in the year 2002. hank, then as now, worked the night shift for Quality Assurance, the country's second-largest provider of home and car policies. Ona typical evening, he'd be given no more than an hour or tow's worth of computer processing (issuing batch reports, distributing funds, testing systems), which he'd then have to drizzle over eight flurescent-lit hours. "Boredom," his predecessor had warned, "will be a real bitch to deal with . . ." This, it had turned out, was an understatement: someone had to be there at night in case the computers stopped working, an event precded apparently by a sound midway between a belch and an air leak. As this never happened (or at least never while Hank was on duty) time flowed like sludge through a gummed-up egg timer. Some nights he thought it would go on forever: the reading of newspapers, the drinking of coffee, the phantomlike strolling of dim and hushed hallways, Often, Hank felt more like a security guard than a computer operator, an impression in no way tempered when the actual guard, a type 1 diabetic, one night turned pale and started uncontrollably spasming. It took eleven yawing weeks before a replacement was hired.
But humans, the cope. It is what they're know for. So picture him, little one, each night of each workday, my red-haired semi-papa, chewing his sandwich as slowly as possible. Or tapping his pencil on his workstation desktop. Or rubbing his ears to soothe the tinnitus that plagued him. Or sighing heavily, and slowly as though sadness was a thing he carried in his lungs. O yes, picture him - thirty-six years of age, a one-time sailor and now from-life hider, the airy whir of computers soothing the sounds in his eardrums.
pp 1-3:
This, by the way, is the tale of Tushino and the bombs that went off there. To understand that day - to appreciate, in even the smallest of ways, the deaths that occured there - you have to know one other small thing. None of this would have happened had a delusional stranger not shoved Hank Wallins, my six-foot-and-five-inch-tall stepfather, in front of a charging subway train.
This happened on May the fifth in the year 2002. hank, then as now, worked the night shift for Quality Assurance, the country's second-largest provider of home and car policies. Ona typical evening, he'd be given no more than an hour or tow's worth of computer processing (issuing batch reports, distributing funds, testing systems), which he'd then have to drizzle over eight flurescent-lit hours. "Boredom," his predecessor had warned, "will be a real bitch to deal with . . ." This, it had turned out, was an understatement: someone had to be there at night in case the computers stopped working, an event precded apparently by a sound midway between a belch and an air leak. As this never happened (or at least never while Hank was on duty) time flowed like sludge through a gummed-up egg timer. Some nights he thought it would go on forever: the reading of newspapers, the drinking of coffee, the phantomlike strolling of dim and hushed hallways, Often, Hank felt more like a security guard than a computer operator, an impression in no way tempered when the actual guard, a type 1 diabetic, one night turned pale and started uncontrollably spasming. It took eleven yawing weeks before a replacement was hired.
But humans, the cope. It is what they're know for. So picture him, little one, each night of each workday, my red-haired semi-papa, chewing his sandwich as slowly as possible. Or tapping his pencil on his workstation desktop. Or rubbing his ears to soothe the tinnitus that plagued him. Or sighing heavily, and slowly as though sadness was a thing he carried in his lungs. O yes, picture him - thirty-six years of age, a one-time sailor and now from-life hider, the airy whir of computers soothing the sounds in his eardrums.
September 24, 2011
I want to say that this book was entertaining, because I could hardly set it down – but I fear that this description might only belittle Hough’s accomplishment. A book can be measured in many ways: its craft (how the story is told), and its purpose (what is being told), are chief among them. But sometimes there is also an unidentifiable quality derived from the perfect combination of these other elements. This is the case with The Culprits.
Hank Wallins, a former merchant sailor cum lonely computer operator, lives through a near-death experience. Does his life flash before his eyes? Does he realize the futility of his existence? Does this realization send him packing to the Himalayas to tackle Everest? To the Amazon? No. But he does begin searching www.FromRussiaWithLove.com hoping against all odds to find that certain special someone to fill the perceived hole in his life gaping.
When he discovers Anna Verkoskova née Mikhailovna, a near-pretty student from St. Petersburg with a wandering eye, Hank is hooked. The resulting story draws both he and "Anya" into a baffling and complicated tale of love, loss, and ... international terrorism.
Woven by one of the most ingenious and fascinating narrators in recent history, this novel juggles the madcap with the sober, the tragic with the comic. It flirts with the melodramatic as often as it plays with the improbable, without ever actually crossing either line. Its humour and wit give weight to its eventual calamity, and its voice – full of the sing-song qualities of Slavic constructions – is as endearing as a Dr. Seuss fable. In short, it is a fine balance.
"Life is a deception," we are told in the novel’s opening paragraph. "If we could scrub away the lichen and peer at life with clear vision ...its entirety would overwhelm us." Indeed, we are almost overwhelmed by the lives and events in The Culprits. However, with Hough, we are in good hands. After leading us through the fray by the nose, he delivers us safely on the other side where "there are watermelons, everywhere....juicy and sweet and through black soil sprouting."
Hank Wallins, a former merchant sailor cum lonely computer operator, lives through a near-death experience. Does his life flash before his eyes? Does he realize the futility of his existence? Does this realization send him packing to the Himalayas to tackle Everest? To the Amazon? No. But he does begin searching www.FromRussiaWithLove.com hoping against all odds to find that certain special someone to fill the perceived hole in his life gaping.
When he discovers Anna Verkoskova née Mikhailovna, a near-pretty student from St. Petersburg with a wandering eye, Hank is hooked. The resulting story draws both he and "Anya" into a baffling and complicated tale of love, loss, and ... international terrorism.
Woven by one of the most ingenious and fascinating narrators in recent history, this novel juggles the madcap with the sober, the tragic with the comic. It flirts with the melodramatic as often as it plays with the improbable, without ever actually crossing either line. Its humour and wit give weight to its eventual calamity, and its voice – full of the sing-song qualities of Slavic constructions – is as endearing as a Dr. Seuss fable. In short, it is a fine balance.
"Life is a deception," we are told in the novel’s opening paragraph. "If we could scrub away the lichen and peer at life with clear vision ...its entirety would overwhelm us." Indeed, we are almost overwhelmed by the lives and events in The Culprits. However, with Hough, we are in good hands. After leading us through the fray by the nose, he delivers us safely on the other side where "there are watermelons, everywhere....juicy and sweet and through black soil sprouting."
March 6, 2010
Didn't like this book at all but forced myself to finish it.
From back cover:
"Hank Williams is a broken man working the endless night shift at a meaningless job. After narrowly surviving an encounter with a subway train, he vows to change his life. Seeking passion, he finds Anya, a sweet, brokenhearted kleptomaniac, on www.FromRussiaWithLove.com. After Anya moves to Toronto to be with Hank, a ransom letter from St. Petersburg arrives on their doorstep. Her Russian ex-lover has been kidnapped by Chechen terrorists, and Hank unwittingly, and out of love for Anya, finds himself funding a terrorist scheme.
A kaleidoscopic tale told by one of the most fascinating narrators in fiction, THE CULPRITS takes us on a mystical, manic ride along the fraying line between good and evil. The result is a heartbreaking story of a group of strangers living worlds apart who find themselves, with the help of a few common culprits, closer than they ever dreamed they could be."
From back cover:
"Hank Williams is a broken man working the endless night shift at a meaningless job. After narrowly surviving an encounter with a subway train, he vows to change his life. Seeking passion, he finds Anya, a sweet, brokenhearted kleptomaniac, on www.FromRussiaWithLove.com. After Anya moves to Toronto to be with Hank, a ransom letter from St. Petersburg arrives on their doorstep. Her Russian ex-lover has been kidnapped by Chechen terrorists, and Hank unwittingly, and out of love for Anya, finds himself funding a terrorist scheme.
A kaleidoscopic tale told by one of the most fascinating narrators in fiction, THE CULPRITS takes us on a mystical, manic ride along the fraying line between good and evil. The result is a heartbreaking story of a group of strangers living worlds apart who find themselves, with the help of a few common culprits, closer than they ever dreamed they could be."
October 20, 2012
Unfortunately, the only part of 'The Culprits' that I really enjoyed was that last three pages. Finally, I understood the message that the narrator was attempting to convey and developed a tenuous connection to that narrator. The primary characters, Hank, Anya, and Ruslan are difficult to get to know or bond with, so when difficulties arise in their lives, you don't care. I really had to force myself to finish this book which disappointed me because I was expecting a much more vibrant book by Mr.Hough.
November 27, 2012
Not what I expected in the telling of the tale of this romance, but all the while 'good' and 'evil' battle throughout the storyline with Hank with his hearing (pinging), Anya with her thoughts of love and Ruslan on his outlook on life. Will they find what they are looking for and will they be happy?
December 6, 2013
Beautiful and tragic all at once. I just spent the last half hour, weeping in the bathtub, while reading the final chapter. This is the most uniquely narrated novel I have ever read. I highly recommend The Culprits, and I may even give this to everyone on my Christmas list. Kudos to Mr. Hough for writing such a memorable novel.
March 24, 2013
This is the third novel I've read by Robert Hough, the stories are all so different. This book from the very beginning grabbed my attention and held it right through. I enjoyed how there were some descriptions that seemed to go on for pages, although at times a bit much. All in all a good read.
Read
March 23, 2011I gave it up.
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April 20, 2012Set in Toronto, I read The Culprits in Toronto and many of the images from the book transformed my 'read' of Toronto
July 12, 2012
This was my light easy read while backpacking around Indonesia, it was a nice story and an easy read. Nothing life changing.
November 26, 2012
A love story that really caught me by surprise which is a sure sign of an excellent book.
May 4, 2016
This book is a movie in print!! I would give it more stares if necessary. Hough touches on my topics of interest to me. Great, great read. Would definitely purchase this.
July 15, 2012
Great plot that closes nicely; and the subject of Chechyan terrorists is a new one for me.
Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews