By Feodor Sologub.
This was very enjoyable. It reminds of Deal Souls and other novels in the Russian literary canon. Dead Souls is more amusing, possibly. The novel feels more random and fragmented and dispassionate.
“Indeed a lie is often more plausible than the truth. “Almost” always. The truth, of course, is never very plausible.”
Reading this novel is an example of the usefulness of the Kindle. This book hasn’t been republished in English it seems and the translation I downloaded from openlibrary.org was a hundred years old. It was quite engaging but seemed a little dated. I’m not sure if this was the translation or that if decadent symbolism was very much of its time. Maybe a combination of both. The novel was part magical, part pastoral and also political. The fact it was three quite dissimilar things was one of the reasons I liked it and carried on reading.