Ok, I read a third Kadare book. And at least for the time being. I still think some of his other titles sound interesting, but I was let down by the last book I read, and this one let me down even harder. The easiest way to begin this is to transcribe the brief paragraph on the back of the book.
1958. In a dorm room in Moscow, a young writer is woken by the sound of angry voices on the radio. Through the fog of a hangover he hears the news that a novel called Doctor Zhivago has earned its author the Nobel Prize. There is uproar. The author, Boris Pasternak, faces exile, the press hound him and demand that he refuse the award. A few days earlier, the young writer found a copy of this book – could those simple pages really be so dangerous?
That is NOT what this book is. I genuinely feel hoodwinked. What is described by that blurb – which is what I wanted to read – was maybe 5-10 sentences in this whole book. I don’t even think Boris Pasternak is mentioned by name in the story.
What is it actually about? Mostly about the narrator trying to get laid. In the backdrop of 1950’s Moscow.
Was it good? I mean I guess it was alright, I just wanted something else.
Failures in Polymathy 