Review by Booklist Review
His livelihood stunted by Parkinson's disease, a celebrated guitarist gropes for the latent melodies of his life. Born in Kyiv to a Russian mother and a Ukrainian father, Gleb Yanovsky isn't a born talent on the four-string domra. But in adolescence he discovers the guitar, with its sensual curves and perfect responsiveness to his fingertips. Propelled to international stardom by his "magical" tremolo, the uspekh (forward movement) of his life obscures an unresolved Ukrainian past. Gleb's German wife, Katya, provides enduring stability, but it isn't until Gleb takes on a terminally ill young protégé that he finds meaning within the cacophony. Using two narrative voices--Gleb's and the guitarist's alcohol-sodden biographer Nestor's--this novel counterposes past and present, self and other. It can be defined as an exercise in Dostoyevskian polyphony, and certainly few contemporary writers are as steeped in the Russian greats as Vodolazkin (Solovyov and Larionov, 2019). But it's also a sophisticated and frequently moving study in dissonance, dedicated to pointing out contrasts between art and life, beauty and decay, intention and outcome. And, yes, between Ukraine and Russia.
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
