Tells a spellbinding story of belonging and uprootedness, as understood by two exiles across time. An exceedingly anxious narrator grapples with a host of conditions, from obsessive-compulsive disorder to a creeping sense of agoraphobia. As her symptoms deepen, she finds unexpected solace researching Viacheslav Lypynskyi (1882-1931), a social and political activist of Polish descent who played a pivotal role in the struggle for Ukrainian independence—and who nursed his own comorbidities. In this long-deceased ideologue the narrator finally finds companionship, mining her country's history in pursuit of a better grasp over her own.
A cryptic, haunting novel meant to be read in this moment ... The narrator's malaise and weakening attachment to time serve as a metaphor for today's Ukraine, as well as for other struggling democracies, including our own ... A book that begs questions that are impossible to answer.
Rambling ... With a heavy overlay of metaphor. The tone is distraught rather than wry, at times oppressively so. Human bodies do more of the work of social critique than animal bodies—with the exception of the stupefying bulk of the whale ... The portions of the novel devoted to Lypynskyi’s political evolution are straightforward and lively, even inspiring.
Originally published in 2016 in Ukrainian, this translation, in light of current events in the country, offers a wider international audience access to Ukrainian voices.
