In this classic of Russian humor and social commentary, a fired cable fitter goes on a binge and hopes a train to Petushki (where his “most beloved of trollops”. LibraryThing Review. User Review – Natalia_Sh – LibraryThing. It’s late s in Russia. Venya Erofeev is going from Moscow to Petushki by train. It’s not a long. by Sharon MacNett Communist Party censors denied publication of Venedikt Erofeev’s novel Moscow to the End of the Line for its.

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Goodreads helps you keep track of books you want to read. Want to Read saving…. Want to Read Currently Reading Read. Refresh and try again. Open Preview See a Problem? Thanks for telling us about the problem. Return to Book Page. Moscow to thd End of the Line by Venedikt Erofeev.

In this classic of Russian humor and social commentary, a fired cable fitter goes on a binge and hops a train to Petushki where his “most beloved of trollops” awaits.

Analysis of Moscow to the End of the Line

On the way he bestows upon angels, fellow passengers, and the world at large a magnificent moscoq on alcohol, politics, society, alcohol, philosophy, the pains of love, and, of course, alcohol.

Paperbackpages. Published July 1st by Northwestern University Press first published Petushki Russian Federation U. To see what your friends thought of this book, please sign up.

To ask other readers questions about Moscow to the End of the Lineplease sign up. Is their a Kindle version of this book? Justinas Jorudas Of this translation – no. See 2 questions about Moscow to the End of the Line…. Lists with Erofewv Book. Mar 29, Edward rated it really liked it Shelves: From the Author –Moscow to the End of the Line.

Maybe the best book about Brezhnev’s Russia imaginable. If you are the kind of person who has ever got drunk with friends, stormed a police station and then declared war on Norway then you will find much here tue is familiar.

It’s a book rich in allusion starting from the title Moscow to Petushki and structure, which is reminiscent of Radishchev’s Journey from St. Petersburg to Moscow ,whose description of the country landed the author in a certain secure facility at the pleasure of her Imperial Maybe the best book about Brezhnev’s Russia imaginable. Petersburg to Moscow ,whose description of the country landed the author in a certain secure facility at the pleasure of her Imperial Highness Catherine II – it doesn’t pay always to be too truthful about the homeland, but also in cocktail recipes all of which are firmly in the ‘do not try hhe home’ category.

My father once working with a pair of alcoholics asked them how do you know when you’ve become an alcoholic and got past the probationary period of merely being a heavy drinker, said the first: To which the second said: Nah, nah, you know that you’re an edn when you drink your metal polish neat view spoiler [ this unoriginal anecdote is by no means is intended as a substitute for professional medical advice hide spoiler ].

And the cocktail recipes are much of that kind combining eye watering products such as Soviet medicated shampoos, the spiritual states that one finds ones self in joscow drinking are thoroughly detailed for the readers enlightenment. It’s a drunken, tragic, comic book with some beautiful graphs plotting the daily drinking of a small team of theoretical cable layers who due to the drinking never seem to reach the phase of practical application.

These graphs cost the narrator his job. That’s the kind of story this is. In other words it is a story about Breshnev’s Russia in which opting out is achieved curtsey of our old friend intoxicating liquor. But in a sense I’ve started this review from the bottom of the wrong glass. The narrator is on a train to visit his sweetheart, guarded by angels, with a bottle or two of spirits in his case in the event of the angels not being quite up to the job. He once worked laying cables in the vicinity of the Kremlin – a building he tells us erofeec that he’s never seen.

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Moscow-Petushki – Wikipedia

The work is reflective of Breshnev’s Russia, they do a day’s work in good weather, then rain obliges them to shelter in their rest thf with mosccow bottle of the good stuff. Rain ruins cable, requiring them to relay cable in good weather.

Anyway a degree of freedom is achieved through enslavement to the bottle. While journeying towards Petushki, the narrator meets, inevitably, other drinkers, and has a close encounter with the ticket inspector whose awful authority is warded off only through a Sherizhardian story touching upon the conviction and obsessive fascination that the Soviet people the author says have that foreigners are forever engaged in homosexual activity, and the coming of the end times when the femme fatal of the east will remove her final veil tk a prospect that even in imagination proves too overwhelming for the unfortunate conductor – again I offer this up as no substitute for responsible professional advice, I personally have stuck to buying a ticket – not that I wish to suggest that Britain train conductors are adverse to good rambling story.

Any way our narrator has a rich cultural conversation with his fellow band of drinkers in which the author discusses, possibly even invents, the concept of vicarious drunkenness – so for example Goethe in Faust can remain a teetotaller, or a modest imbiber because he has sub-contracted his hedonism to his characters – just as in The Glass Bead Game through careful yoga and long meditation one can explore and experience lives one will never live so too writing for Erofeev allows authors vicarious vices.

By analogy one notes that but for the lucky circumstance of a market for crime fiction its authors would be dangerous people to live near to. He has for me an unforgettable paragraph on the prim and proper and entirely sober Rimsky-Korsakov coming across Modest Mussorgskydrunk and asleep in a ditch, prodding him with his walking stick and telling him to get back to work on his immortal opera Khovanshchinaonly as soon as Rimsky-Korsakov’s back is turned Mussorsky abandons the working desk for the bottle.

And that’s the kind of book this is. Mussorsky due to excessive drinking died with most of his musical projects unfinished, the orchestration generally done by other erpfeev more restrained hands including Rimsky-Korsakov’s. And in a way the entire novel is an indictment or perhaps a statement of the way things are – after a hard day one reaches for a glass, in a hard society one reaches for a bottle, and being prodded with an elegant walking stick doesn’t really rearrange the fundamental experience of life.

View all 15 comments. May 14, else fine rated it it was amazing Shelves: Imagine a drunken Dante on an epic railway journey to nowhere, pondering the merits of various cocktails made from furniture polishes and solvents, debating the meaning of life and the worth of his soul, hilarious and tragic by turns. That’ll give you a rough idea of what it’s like to fall into this book.

A delight every time I reread it. Si diffuse clandestinamente come samizdatdiventando un classico in breve tempo. E’ anche un’eclissi dell’anima. View all 3 comments. Jan 05, Rodney rated it it was amazing Shelves: If dialectical materialism were turned on its head, te like angels would probably fall out. If you got drunk enough to cross Moscow a thousand times without ever seeing the Kremlin, something like freedom would happen, despite the State.

If poky old Petushki became Eden, just because you loved and it was there, materialism would be turned right side up again, but with the angels left in. View all tue comments. A fun and funny intoxicated ramble around Moscow. The man wrecked by affect disorders not fun.


I hoped the angels might help him, but they tthe and silent. May 15, El rated it liked it Shelves: Oh, crap, another Russian writer without a beard! It always makes me so sad. Like seeing a squirrel without a tail.

Moscow to the End of the Line

It seems unnatural, unfair. I’m impressed by his attempt at a Clark Gable ‘stache though. So in the little bit of research I did on this book I found that it’s considered a “postmodernist prose poem” which I didn’t necessarily pick up on while I was reading it.

The “poem” bit, I mean – the “postmodernist” part was quite evident. Now I’m not sure what to think. I feel like Oh, crap, another Russian writer without a beard! I feel like I should re-read it in light of the whole “prose poem” thing, but no – Proust is waiting for me patiently at the bedside table and there’s that whole book I’m reading for my real-life Pretentious Bookclub, so there’s just no time for a re-read of this.

So let it be known that it’s a “prose poem”. Maybe that will help you going into your own reading of it and then you won’t have your world turned upside down like mine was.

Even though Erofeev didn’t sport the Russian-classic ie, beardhe did write about an alcoholic, so he gets to keep his Russian literary citizenship for that at least. Supposedly pseudo-autobiographical it follows the story of Venichka who has just lost his job as a cable fitter for charting how much alcohol he and his coworkers drank.

The majority of the story takes place on a train from Moscow to Petushki and involves the various discussions that take place between Venichka and his other travelers. Petushki is where Venya’s lover and child await him, it is his “salvation and joy”; unlike Moscow which obviously is meant to be all about restriction, destruction, and everything else bad about Russia in when Erofeev wrote the story.

One thing I love about the Russians is their veiled references to their oppressive society – being a postmodern work it probably goes without saying that I missed more than I should have because I suck at reading postmodern works sometimes.

I should be in therapy for this problem. But I am trying, so shove it.

I also want to give a shout-out to the fantastic cover art that was chosen, Self Portrait with Demons James Ensor. May 09, Olga rated it it was fhe Shelves: Dec 25, S.

The first thing that strikes the reader is the overriding compulsion to make sense of the world — to catalog, categorize and assign values to things. It starts in on page one and pretty much follows on every page: With me it happened the other way around for some reason; that is, my soul was strengthened in the highest degree while my members were weakened.

If I agree moscoww this too is antihuman. Therefore, at the same time, I added two lind of Zhiguli beer and an Albe de dessert port straight from the bottle. For instance, he wants to know what is worse, paralyis or nausea? Nervous exhaustion or mortal sorrow? May 08, Caty rated it it was amazing. Through a haze of alcohol, Soviet repression, and the hypnotic rhythm of a subway journey, Erofeev turns his drunken slapstick into brilliant satire, his own maudlin self pity into the lyrically transcendent.

May 02, Mike rated it it was amazing Recommended to Mike by: Recently, I drank beer with a friend whose native language is Arabic.

No one who spoke Arabic ever observed such a thing and wanted to describe it? When I asked my Russian teacher about it, she said that people really drank things like this during the Soviet Union.