ola gubkina

“I turned the word over and over in my head, Communist, a word that was meaningless to me, but which the teacher had immediately branded with negativity. Communist, Communist, Communist. It captivated me. Communist and son of a murderer.”

I recognized myself too much in this book, to the point that when I was done reading, I just stared at the last page, thinking about the “alienness” I used to feel as well.

“No, you didn't know all that; those are things that are never spoken of. For the plague-stricken their peace of mind is more important than a human life. Decent folks must be allowed to sleep easy o' nights, mustn't they?”

“Can one be saint without God?”

I didn't want to compare this book to COVID, but it could have been a good read that would have prepared and explained many things to me at that time. To be honest, this book is a great read for any occasion. The only drawback was that I did not like the English translation at all. At some point, I switched to the Russian translation, and the text was so well-written. Words had a broader meaning, while the English translation lacked some depth. Maybe there is a better translation than this one.

Я очень давно не читала Достоевского и совсем забыла, как легко читаются его книги. Все это время казалось, что я действительно читаю чьи-то записки и что я не должна была этого читать. Множество интимных моментов; казалось бы такое каждый проживает у себя в голове и никому не рассказывает. Главный герой раздражал, волновал, умилял, тревожил. Короткий рассказ, который тебя заставляет надолго погрузиться в размышления.