become more frequent. First, a shopping center in Sokolniki is blown up; next, a huge explosion pulverizes Komsomolskaya Ploshchad with its three railway stations. The government responds vigorously, forbidding citizens from walking their dogs after 8 p.m. Within days, the city is in flames, and people are flocking to their dachas and the homes of distant provincial relatives.
An anti-utopian fantasy? Not quite. The eponymous evacuator is Igor, a computer programmer. Igor is in love with Katya, a young woman who is happily ?€“ or at least tolerably ?€“ married, with a young child. In the course of their affair, Igor reveals to Katya that he is an extraterrestrial spy, "the evacuator," on a mission to take several worthy humans to his blissful planet after things get nasty on Earth. He gives Katya the choice of whom to save. Besides her daughter, she can select five people.
So the heroine is faced with a "Sophie's Choice" dilemma. The power of Bykov's writing makes you wonder: What lucky people would you save from imminent death? More to the point, which people among your nearest and dearest would you cross off your list? The web of human relationships has been seldom described with such immediacy.
Alternating between playfulness and hard-core realism, with hints of science fiction and political satire to boot, Bykov creates a complex and compelling narrative. Having woven an almost impossible plot, he somehow manages to squeeze his way out of the inevitably anticlimactic denouement. This circus feat has its disadvantages. The last third of the novel is palpably weaker than the first two. "The Evacuator" is supplemented with "Poems Around the Novel," in much the same way that Boris Pasternak attached a selection of poems to "Doctor Zhivago." Bykov's poems are good; in fact, from a technical point of view -- this is meant as a compliment -- he is one of the best Russian poets writing today. Still, the link between his verse and the novel seems artificial.
Bykov's novel is not about terrorism; it is not even about the burden of personal responsibility. The book's underlying current lies deeper and goes beyond the here-and-now of Russian life. But to get his message, one has to read the whole book.
A Message from The Moscow Times:
Dear readers,
We are facing unprecedented challenges. Russia's Prosecutor General's Office has designated The Moscow Times as an "undesirable" organization, criminalizing our work and putting our staff at risk of prosecution. This follows our earlier unjust labeling as a "foreign agent."
These actions are direct attempts to silence independent journalism in Russia. The authorities claim our work "discredits the decisions of the Russian leadership." We see things differently: we strive to provide accurate, unbiased reporting on Russia.
We, the journalists of The Moscow Times, refuse to be silenced. But to continue our work, we need your help.
Your support, no matter how small, makes a world of difference. If you can, please support us monthly starting from just $2. It's quick to set up, and every contribution makes a significant impact.
By supporting The Moscow Times, you're defending open, independent journalism in the face of repression. Thank you for standing with us.
Remind me later.