A perfectly pitched anatomy of the immigrant experience of America: a moving blend of character study, satire, and elegy.
This nicely constructed and deeply felt novel, which marks the first English-language appearance of a former Russian scientist and translator, deftly observes the interactions of several Russian immigrants in America at the time of the breakup of the Soviet Union.
The émigrés are brought together for the last days of Alik, a free-spirited painter (his Last Supper depicts a table laden with 12 pomegranates) who’s slowly dying of an undiagnosed paralytic disease. His wife Nina, a paranoid alcoholic, begs the agnostic Alik to undergo baptism—a ceremony he agrees to discuss with a priest, if a rabbi is also present. As a sweltering heat wave bathes Alik’s rundown Manhattan apartment, his various friends, caregivers, and former lovers come and go (as, in nested flashbacks, Ulitskaya traces their personal histories): Irina, a onetime circus acrobat and freelance exotic dancer, now a lawyer, who quietly pays the blithely destitute Alik’s medical bills; beautiful, lovelorn Valentina, lured to America for what turned out to be a “fictitious” marriage; elderly, gnomelike Maria Ignatevna, a grandmotherly dispenser of “magical powers and contraband herbs”; and Alik’s self-appointed physician Fima, a doctor who can’t pass his US medical exams and works as a lab assistant; and some dozen others. Ulitskaya displays a keen eye for minutiae that vividly reveal character and situational contrasts (“The rabbi sat on the stool . . . which was still warm from the priest’s buttocks”) and images that precisely evoke the experiences of alienation and lostness (such as Alik’s dream in which, forced to hold the leashes of a pack of struggling dogs, he misses a flight and is unable to leave Moscow). And the contrast between Russian stoic fatalism and Americans’ casual sense of their society’s invincibility are spelled out in numerous delicately chosen details, each simultaneously underscoring her characters’ very distinctive personalities.
A perfectly pitched anatomy of the immigrant experience of America: a moving blend of character study, satire, and elegy.Pub Date: Jan. 17, 2001
ISBN: 0-8052-4185-X
Page Count: 160
Publisher: Schocken
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Nov. 15, 2000
The Brat Pack meets The Bacchae in this precious, way-too-long, and utterly unsuspenseful town-and-gown murder tale. A bunch of ever-so-mandarin college kids in a small Vermont school are the eager epigones of an aloof classics professor, and in their exclusivity and snobbishness and eagerness to please their teacher, they are moved to try to enact Dionysian frenzies in the woods. During the only one that actually comes off, a local farmer happens upon them—and they kill him. But the death isn't ruled a murder—and might never have been if one of the gang—a cadging sybarite named Bunny Corcoran—hadn't shown signs of cracking under the secret's weight. And so he too is dispatched. The narrator, a blank-slate Californian named Richard Pepen chronicles the coverup. But if you're thinking remorse-drama, conscience masque, or even semi-trashy who'll-break-first? page-turner, forget it: This is a straight gee-whiz, first-to-have-ever-noticed college novel—"Hampden College, as a body, was always strangely prone to hysteria. Whether from isolation, malice, or simple boredom, people there were far more credulous and excitable than educated people are generally thought to be, and this hermetic, overheated atmosphere made it a thriving black petri dish of melodrama and distortion." First-novelist Tartt goes muzzy when she has to describe human confrontations (the murder, or sex, or even the ping-ponging of fear), and is much more comfortable in transcribing aimless dorm-room paranoia or the TV shows that the malefactors anesthetize themselves with as fate ticks down. By telegraphing the murders, Tartt wants us to be continually horrified at these kids—while inviting us to semi-enjoy their manneristic fetishes and refined tastes. This ersatz-Fitzgerald mix of moralizing and mirror-looking (Jay McInerney shook and poured the shaker first) is very 80's—and in Tartt's strenuous version already seems dated, formulaic. Les Nerds du Mal—and about as deep (if not nearly as involving) as a TV movie.
Pub Date: Sept. 16, 1992
ISBN: 1400031702
Page Count: 592
Publisher: Knopf
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 1, 1992
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
SEEN & HEARD
SEEN & HEARD
SEEN & HEARD
A modern day fable, with modern implications in a deceiving simplicity, by the author of Dickens. Dali and Others (Reynal & Hitchcock, p. 138), whose critical brilliance is well adapted to this type of satire. This tells of the revolt on a farm, against humans, when the pigs take over the intellectual superiority, training the horses, cows, sheep, etc., into acknowledging their greatness. The first hints come with the reading out of a pig who instigated the building of a windmill, so that the electric power would be theirs, the idea taken over by Napoleon who becomes topman with no maybes about it. Napoleon trains the young puppies to be his guards, dickers with humans, gradually instigates a reign of terror, and breaks the final commandment against any animal walking on two legs. The old faithful followers find themselves no better off for food and work than they were when man ruled them, learn their final disgrace when they see Napoleon and Squealer carousing with their enemies... A basic statement of the evils of dictatorship in that it not only corrupts the leaders, but deadens the intelligence and awareness of those led so that tyranny is inevitable. Mr. Orwell's animals exist in their own right, with a narrative as individual as it is apt in political parody.
Pub Date: Aug. 26, 1946
ISBN: 0452277507
Page Count: 114
Publisher: Harcourt, Brace
Review Posted Online: Nov. 2, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 1, 1946
© Copyright 2025 Kirkus Media LLC. All Rights Reserved.
Follow
Popular in this Genre
We can’t wait for you to join Kirkus!
It’s free and takes less than 10 seconds!
Already have an account? Log in.
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
Welcome Back!
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
