Death and the Penguin, by Andrey Kurkov had been recommended to me by a colleague, and I had immediately added it to my shopping basket at Amazon. I subsequently forgot all about it, until I had reason to order a few more books. Beyond the curious title, I knew very little about it.
The title and the cover illustration are certainly amusing itself. It’s back blurb reads “In today’s Ukraine, all that stands between one man and murder by the Mafia is a penguin“.
So I embarked on the book, really not knowing what to make of it in advance. It’s a translation from the original Russian (well, Russian language, but Ukrainian in origin), and I’m pleased to say the complexities of the Russian formal, informal and various other names seems to have been nicely masked over (or at the least the translation of the other Russian book I’ve read, Dostoevsky’s “Crime and Punishment” was very complex in this regard).
So poor old Viktor finds himself composing obituaries for a newspaper with just his mute penguin Misha for company. Pride in his work swiftly turns to terror when his work first makes it into print. A few more characters weave their way into the story, and the simple life Viktor leads rapidly takes on complication and menace.
Misha was a quirky and enjoyable stooge for some dead-pan delivery, but you can’t but help feel sorry at the poor penguin, holed up in a flat in Ukraine, far from the sea, much less Antarctica and other penguins. Especially so as the poor creature seems to do little more than stand around and stare a lot, until it’s taken to a park and let loose scaring drunks - an amusing part of the overall story.
I do find myself at something of loss regarding the main plotline. Quite what is going on behind the scenes was rather hard to fathom. Who is behind much of the operation Viktor finds himself involved in is never fully explored, and that a man with such little compassion (he starts off a relationship with a girl with very disturbing thoughts) should have adopted a penguin in the first place is somewhat bizarre.
Don’t get me wrong. This isn’t a thoroughly depressing book. It is enjoyable and quirky, and I shall probably dig out another Kurkov book at some point. I just felt a little let down by the story, which starts of with a surreal situation, but never really delivers on the promise of the situation.
I was certainly rather taken by the rather dry humour that typifies the book. The first page contains what I can only presume is a bit of a Ukrainian joke, which I feel bound to quote: A Militia major is driving along when he sees a militiaman standing with a penguin. “Take him to the zoo,” he orders. Some time later the same major is driving along when he sees the militiaman still with the penguin. “What have you been doing?” he asks. “I said take him to the zoo.” “We’ve been to the zoo, Comrade Major,” says the militiaman, “and the circus. And now we’re going to the pictures.”.
So, if you like that sort of joke, want to read up a bit on Ukrainian literature, and like something along the lines of Jack Dee-esque dead-pan delivery, then you’ll probably enjoy the book. I certainly did, but I’m still at a bit of a loss as to what it’s all about. But the ride was certainly fun, and that is often most of the point of reading a book in the first place.
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