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wow. the first couple of pages just blow me away. every single sentence is like a gem. is it possible that Olesha has sustained this blend of imaginative language, wit and absurdism, and just all round fabulous story telling, throughout the course of the book? is that even possible? if he has this book is a treasure!

now, on page 40, i can read no more ... at least for now. i think all readers have those books they couldn't put down and all things -even sleep- must wait and we dwell within the realms of that story until the very last page. these books -for me at least- while a joy to read, are seldom a wonder. the books i call a wonder to read have -like Envy- a density that sates me after a few pages .... as though i have eaten a great meal and i cannot possibly consume more until i have digested what i have already taken in.

there are sentences in Envy that stop me in my tracks. sentences that i marvel at and that leave me in a state of wonder. like this sentence about Andrei Babichev who we know is a large robust and dominating figure; a figure that strikes awe in others: 'His shadow is cast perpendicularly across the street and almost produces a storm in the foliage of the garden on the other side.'

and then, a few pages later there is a marvelous contrast between Babichev's shadow and a beautiful young girl, one perceived to be pure: 'She was lighter than a shadow, the very lightest of shadows - the shadow of falling snow would envy her.'

Olesha has created a myth. a fable. a cautionary tale of Nikolai Kavelerov, the lumpenproletarian, and Andrei Babichev, the functionary. and what a time they live in. from Kavelerov's perspective it is a time of change and Babichev is the kind of man who excels in it and is glorified. but as Kavlerov says he doesn't understand this kind of glory and asks, "does it mean that the nature of glory has changed? Everywhere? Or only here, in the world being built?'

now i have gotten to know Volodya - the new man; the soviet man - the man who envies machines whose every action is purposeful and productive. machines whose work is so focused there is not even a single unnecessary squiggle.

and now what???? what is this? part two. i am dismayed. i resist. i don't want this -what i have in my hands- to end.

it takes me a few pages to get into part two but when i do i laugh at my resistance. it is so appropriate. in part two we meet Ivan and -after a few pages- i am loving this character who sees the end of an era, the end of the emotional side of humanity because the new man despises the 'ancient feelings glorified by the poets'. he mourns it's loss but is resolved to see it go out 'with a bang'. as he puts it: "I want arrange the last parade of these feelings."

the second half has a haphazard feel to it, and i don't quite 'get it' but then it occurs to me that -just as my resistance to the emergence of part two was appropriate- so is my reaction to this series of scenes and fever-induced dreams stitched together like a patchwork quilt. this is not the world of Andrei - an orderly and purposeful (if boastful) world - it is the world of the fool, the drunkard, the dreamer. this is the world of Ivan.

this is a story of contrasts: man against man. man against machine. the 1st person of part one vs the third person of part two. the individual vs the masses vs the state. the old era vs the new. the apathetic Kaveleroy vs Babichev the industrialist vs Babichev the hedonist. oh and there was a third Babichev .... the terrorist who was executed for his actions against the state.


what a book. i repeat. WHAT. A. BOOK!
i don't think i have ever read anything quite like it.