A Werewolf Problem in Central Russia: And Other Stories

First let me say that I reeeaaaallly enjoyed this book, but let me also state that I know that I missed alot of the inferences and sly winks. Though I am decently well read in Russian history (it's part of my own background) there are many current and historical references that are beyond most non-Russian Russians. It would be a much more enjoyable read if the translator had not only put in a glossary, but made some notes at the end of each story. Sort of an 'annotated' version, like they do with Shakespear. That said, my two favorite stories were 'Ninth Dream' about a solipsist toilet cleaner and 'the Chinese Fantasy' where an obscure Chinese Peasant is kidnapped by the KGB and ends up becoming a major minister in the Russian government. The total absurdity of these stories has to do with the survival instinct that has become part of the Russian psyche over the last three hundred years. Gogol was highly respected for his ability to write stories that said so much, by saying so little (to keep him out of trouble, as much as possible). One has to remember that this is a culture where the Czar, whether Ivan (who sent a Division marching towards Siberia) to Peter (who forcibly shaved off peoples beards, and ordered a city built on a swamp); to Stalin who had whole cultures (Crimean Tartars and Volga Germans) transported to the deserts of Kazahkstan, and just dumped there. Where a knock on the door in the middle of the night, meant certain death and anathema to the family. Parents begged their children to turn them in, so that the children wouldn't be punished for their parents imagined sins. When you grow up in a culture like the Marxist-Leninist USSR, where history is constantly rewritten (and people disappear and reappear in photographs), it's hard to take anything seriously. Tomorrow, seriousness could be determined to be anti-Soviet propaganda, and everyone is ordered to be merry (or else!). Years ago an immigrant friend of mine told me a story of how his mother would wait on line each day for two hours for toilet paper, even though she knew that the store was empty. She did this because it gave her time to spend with friends, get the latest gossip, look over the latest samizdat (underground publishing), and keep her mind off her hunger. She considered it time well spent. If you don't see the humor in this, don't bother reading the book.

This is one of the darkest, most surreal short story collections I have ever read. Russian literature has always struck me as being intense, brutal and, yes, depressing at times, and this book contains more of the two former than the latter descriptions. I will also add "surreal" into the mix. A Werewolf Problem in Central Russia and Other Stories is a book that won't be forgotten any time soon and that has won a special spot in my library. The stories in this collection are quite intricate -- with a language that changes from being surrealistic to having fantasy aspects to centering on social situations. They are intellectually and emotionally exhausting, and they disturbed as well as moved me at times. My favorite stories are "The Ontology of Childhood," "Sleep," "The Tarzan Swing," "A Werewolf Problem in Central Russia," and "Prince of Gosplan." This is the English translation of the original Russian offering, and I only hope that there was nothing lost in the translation because I love to read the author's words and interpretations on the pages. Are you in the bargain for some intense and enlightening stories? I suggest you give A Werewolf Problem in Central Russia a whirl. You will not regret it!

A Werewolf Problem in Central Russia, a collection of short stories, exhibits both the joys and the challenges of reading someone as brilliantly absurd as Russia's Victor Pelevin. The tamest of these eight stories is surreal, the most complex is, at times, simply impenetrable. At times, Pelevin addresses universal themes with tremendous insight; at other times his satire is so specifically Russian that anyone not well-versed in Russian history will find the subject matter less than understandable. And, although Pelevin appears to be striving for a light mood, at least in some of the stories, the gloomy and pessimistic specter of the former Soviet Union casts its shadow over the volume as a whole.A Werewolf Problem in Central Russia can be seen as both a tribute to Dostoyevsky and as a radical departure from him, for these characters are loners who are simply not aware that they are loners. The Tarzan Swing is a Pelevin story that is very reminiscent of Dostoyevsky's story, The Double. It comes as a shock to the protagonist of Tarzan's Swing to realize that he is carrying on a conversation with a companion that might be nothing more than his shadow. Unlike The Double, however, the protagonist in Pelevin's story is never really sure if this "companion" is real or not.All of Pelevin's rather narcissistic characters wander through their post-perestroika days in a dreamlike state obsessing on the meaning of life. They exist outside of themselves and seem to take it in stride that the physical world is compromised by spatial and temporal impossibilities, that a universe exists in a teapot, that dream landscapes are superimposed on real ones and that Russia is but a sewer cover away from China. And, while Dostoyevsky's characters are bogged down by paranoid delusions, Pelevin's characters always seem to find themselves faced with the empty but ultimately self-satisfying prospect of solipsism, and they take it for granted that the world is in a kind of surreal flux.The title story tells the tale of a traveler who becomes hopelessly lost in central Russia and is transformed into a werewolf. Surprisingly, he likes it and he finds it a very liberating experience. This story, told in a linear manner, is no doubt the most accessible of the entire volume. Pelevin gives us stunning detail so we are able to feel how the character moves and smells and sees. The story's placement at the beginning of the collection provides the perfect entree to the lunacy that is Victor Pelevin's trademark.The Ontology of Childhood is more difficult to grasp, especially for those not familiar with Russian history or Russian literature, but it is a more accomplished piece of writing and showcases Pelevin's unique talent most admirably. Written in the second person, The Ontology of Childhood is a chilling recollection of growing up in a prison and blends powerful remembrances of dark pessimism with expressions of profound hope.Pelevin's uncanny ability to render eerie,

10+ stars actually.someone else already wrote this, but beg and pray for Viktor Pelevin's works! i read The Werewolf in russian, then in english, and the translation doesn't cut it. it's no one's fault, it's simply impossible to convey in english what Pelevin conveys in russian.my honest to God advice: his work is worth learning Russian, just to read it in the original. you will be amazed. and you will also understand why Pelevin is claimed to have monopolized the Russian bookmarket. :-)A.p.s. V.Pelevin's most recent and best stuff has not been translated yet (perhaps it's impossible to translate without ruining it or reducing it to sterility)."Generation P" and "Chapaev i Pustota" ("Chapaev and Void"). if you see a copy in english, get it right away and run with it.

The first and last stories in this collection, "A Werewolf Problem in Central Russia" and "Prince of Gosplan", are quite remarkable, and certainly worth the price of admission. The former is a wonderfully lyrical story about a traveller who chances on a group of people who are able to turn themselves into werewolves at will. The latter is an absurdist tour de force about a programmer of video games whose life is lived largely in the games. I think both are safely characterized as unforgettable. The shorter other stories have some excellent moments -- especially "Tai Shou Chuan USSR", about a Chinese peasant who accidentally becomes an important Soviet government official, and "The Ontology of Childhood" -- but seem somewhat less comprehensible.