Every now and then I pick up a book just because of the title, and/or the picture on the front cover. This is one of those, picked up from the charity books section at the front of a local branch of Tesco.
Although Kurkov is a name I've seen in passing, he's not a writer I'd ever read before. After reading this one, I shall certainly be looking out for more.
The story - Viktor is a struggling writer in Kiev who lives alone with his pet penguin Misha. When he lucks onto a job writing obituaries for the still living for a local newspaper, things seem to be improving for him, except that he doesn't get to see his writing in print. Once the first of his articles is printed though, he quickly finds himself in a situation far bigger and more dangerous than he could have dreamt of.
This is told with a very dry sense of humour. The droll surrealism is accentuated by an ever growing sense of menace. We experience this strange world only through Viktor's eyes and have to piece together the exact details of the threat around him. As the trap is woven ever tighter, we wonder if he's going to still be alive on the last page.
I read this with an almost constant grin on my face. Only on the unexpectedly moving moments and the times where the threat loomed closest to his vision did my smile fade.
This is so many things that I enjoy in fction - dark, funny, off-kilter, moving and unpredictable. I highly recommend it to anyone.
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