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If a novelist wrote a true story about how things really happened, no one would believe him, and he might even be punished for spreading propaganda. But if he wrote a book full of lies about things that could never really happen, with only a few true things hidden in it, well, he would be hailed as a hero of the People, given a seat at a writers�� cafe, served wine and ukha, and not have to pay for any of it.

Catherynne M. Valente, indeed, has written about things that really happened and hid it, in our case behind a fairy-tale. Sure, this book was magical and fairy-tale like, but for me, first and foremost, it was historical fiction. As we know, the thing with historical fiction is that it can be interpreted differently, depending on how a person perceives historical facts and lays them down on paper. Politics is messy, recent history is even messier. It’s hard to write about something and stay neutral, showing the events as an outsider or an observer. Valente couldn’t manage either. I am not blaming her for anything, but it felt that she had a strong opinion on the period of Russian history from Revolution of 1917 to one of the hardest and saddest periods in Russian history - Siege of Leningrad (1941-1944). The thing is, I can't say I agree with the author's vision. Of course, it might not bother non-Russian people, but for me it is a history of my country and it was hard to read about it, knowing that things are not as simple as sometimes Valente made them to be. But that’s not why I didn’t enjoy this book, on the opposite, I applaud the author for her courage in taking such challenging historical period for foundation of her book and speaking her opinion (even if I think it wasn't a wise decision due to several factors I'll explain later on). Some things I agreed with, with some I didn’t: the truth is in the eye of the beholder, after all. One thing is for sure: Valente deserves to be mentioned with other authors who's written about Russia and did not mix it with dirt and heresy (yes, I am looking at you The Bronze Horseman), apart from the vodka moments, that is: when will authors learn that Russians do not drink vodka instead of water, and surely they do not treat illness with vodka:

“Drink, Marousha,�� he clucked gently, like a mother, and put a glass to her lips. “Your lungs want vodka.��

*cringe* Just nooooo!

First and foremost thing that bothered me about this book is characters. I didn’t feel them, I thought them quite bland and one-minded: obsession of any kind was the driven force of every character there is. I love dark, flawed, damaged characters, but I must see something in them apart from darkness; these characters felt morally degraded, I didn’t notice any virtue in any of them, I didn’t feel they had souls. All they ever wanted is to have sex and posses each other and other things or people. Sure, with Koschei it was easier to accept, his character arc is all about being an ancient creature who only lives, takes, torments, spends, dies, comes to life again and goes in the same circle over and over. I admit, despite his image absolutely clashing in my head with the real Koschei from my childhood fairy-tales (he was and always will be canonical villain, not a sexy young misunderstood hero), I kind of almost liked this one Valente showed us, I can see why Leigh Bardugo chose him as prototype for her Darkling. I understand the appeal.

"I don't care, Marya Morevna. Kiss him. Take him to your bed, and the vila, too, for all it matters to me. Do you understand me, wife? There need never be any rules between us. Let us be greedy together; let us hoard. Let us hit each other with birch branches and lock each other in dungeons; let us drink each other's blood in the night and betray each other in the sun. Let us lie and lust and take hundreds of lovers; let us dance until snow melts beneath us. Let us steal and eat until we grow fat and roll in the pleasures of life, clutching each other for purchase. Only leave me my death �� let me hold this one thing sacred and unmolested and secret �� and I will serve you a meal myself, served on a platter of all the world's bounty. Only do not leave me, swear that you will never leave me, and no empress will stand higher. Forget the girls in the factory. Be selfish and cruel and think nothing of them. I am selfish. I am cruel. My mate cannot be less than I. I will have you in my hoard, Marya Morevna, my black mirror.��

But Marya Morevna felt shallow. I expected more development from her character. I understand that we stay witness to her transformation from innocent girl to Koschei’s beloved, as she must be equal to him. But again, I saw the transformation, I surely saw the darkness and greed and lust, but I didn’t see depth in her character. It all felt supercilious, underdeveloped, based on lower instincts. I can’t respect a character that doesn’t have a drop of decency in them. Plus, in the fairy-tale Marya holds wisdom in herself, this version of Marya only loved to hold male flesh inside her. I didn’t see one quality I should respect or like in the heroine. Maybe it was the point, but to my taste these characters were too hopeless, too gone.

Baba Yaga, though, I liked the modern version of her, the only funny moments in the book that really made me smile were hers. The old crone have some gunpowder left in her still, and she never looses her slyness.

“I ate all of my husbands. First I ate their love, then their will, then their despair, and then I made pies of their bodies - and those bodies were so dear to me!��

The second most bothersome thing for me was the element of BDSM in this book. Now, it was hard as it is to imagine Koschei young and virile, but him having twisted sex is something one better not to see if they want to preserve their childhood memories. At times, it felt as if Valente had raped Russian folklore and gave birth to something monstrous instead. And call me old-fashioned, but I love me some good romance in a book if I want to believe in the couple. What Koschei and Marya had was not romantic and was not love �� obsession, passion, desire to hurt. Not healthy, not beautiful, certainly disturbing. Add to that double insta-love and a very strange love-triangle with Ivan: the heroine literally slept with both men at the same time. The romance part was killed for me to the root. Maybe that is how it was supposed to be, maybe I don’t get their “love��, but, honestly, I don’t even feel bad for not trying to get into that mess.

The third issue is the clash of history and fairy-tale. I am not sure it was a good idea to choose recent historical period and mix it with fairy-tale. For me Russian fairy-tale is something old and wise and magical and not very mixable with modern world. Sure, there was the part in the beginning with Comrades domoviye, which really reminded me of my all-time favorite cartoon about Domovyonok Kusya, who lives in Soviet Union and whom Baba Yaga was trying to catch and eat the whole time. As for the rest of the mix, it felt like two pieces of different puzzles that won’t add into one no matter from which side you are trying to join them. Maybe because I am Russian it was hard to add some things together, and for non Russian people there wouldn’t be any problems with it, but yeah, you can’t erase years of your cultural upbringing and make it into something else. Katya in her review perfectly underlined that twisting something that millions of kids grew up with is borderline offensive, like, for example, twisting the Lion King cartoon: what if Simba was actually stupid and boring and Nala totally got it on with Scar, who really looks like Oded Fehr. [the quote copied from Katya's review for purposes of example]. How would you feel about such change of your childhood fairy-tale? Although, the part with Buyan - Koshei’s kingdom - was relatively comfortable for me to read about, as it was a thing of fairy-tale too, and, though, there were changes, they were more curious than unpleasant.

The only thing that got my admiration with this book is prose, so beautiful and exquisite one cannot but fall in love with it. I admit, I don't get to read such beautifully written books often, so I was utterly enchanted by it and do not regret reading this book if only for the poetic writing. My only complaint about it that sometimes it was so surreal I didn’t understand what was going on in the book: beautifully written but incomprehensive.

All in all, this was definitely an "uncomfortable" kind of book that challenged my boundaries as a reader. Alas, it turned out mostly not my cup of tea, and, though, I fairly enjoyed the first half of the book, the second one was a huge mess, and made me skim-read the last 30%. And the ending was so surreal I don't know what to think about the weirdness it was. Moreover, I can't say anything good about the solidness of the plot: nothing was really happening in the book plotwise, and big time jumps (10 years) were mostly for the benefit of the historical picture, not character development.
I still would advice to try this book if you are curious about it, with this one you never know if it'll turn out your thing or not. Just keep in mind that this book is not something one reads for leisure; it's too dark, twisted and hope-free.