I'm not really in the mood for Russian Literature these days, but this one kind of tickles many of the same itches that my favourite authors would for me decades ago. It is dense, it is macabre, it is grotesque, and it is absolutely hilarious, with sly little nudges throughout. The literature of drunkenness usually does nothing for me, as I can, unfortunately, get super-judgmental, and it is usually just presented in a light of sadness. And don't get me wrong, there is sadness here, but Erofeev shows how, for the alcoholic, liquor gets twisted into every line of thought, even intrusive. As I get to understand my mental health, it is all very sympathetic. ( )

A few good jokes in there, but who knew getting drunk could be so boooooooring ( )

meesterwerk : de ultieme drankroman ( )

Re-read this one. Brutal and hilarious. I guess people describe it as an Anti-epic. Reminds me of Gogol. ( )

This grail was coveted for years; what followed was a classic Jon Faith faint moment when I saw it on a shelf. I read it in a blur, which may have been a problem. It is an effective device to have the dissolute protagonist repeat and finally divulge, but it didn't click for me. This book PROFOUNDLY desverves another look. ( )