The first story ‘Give Me’ has a single first person narrative. Yet even here things wander. The narrator takes us through a list of boys she has liked and been out with. At first she uses a metaphor that’s almost Classical - waiting on a beach while men are washed up or drift close to shore, and she takes those she wants. But this image is abandoned soon enough, and the story moves between the later men she likes or who like her. Apart from the young Chechen war veteran, nobody really stands out. The lack of a central thread might reflect the narrator’s essential shallowness, but it’s not a good enough reason for the story to wander so much. It reads like it could have done with some serious editing, particularly at the beginning. What’s frustrating about this and other stories like it is that there is good writing in there, the rest just has to be cut back to let it shine properly.

’Vasya and the Green Men’ is a nasty, black-humoured little story about a young boy who goes up against the green men who live out by the rubbish tip, eating tramps and raping tramp-women. Dressed in his father’s baggy trousers and a pair of Nazi underpants, with shaved head (due to lice), teeth knocked out in a fight, and a tennis ball for one eye (one of the green men ate the original), the little “tyke” takes on the monsters. In spite of the black humour, though, there’s an extraordinary amount of violence and abuse in this story. Vasya is beaten up by his fellow schoolmates, the green men, and even gets it from his parents. Tramps, tramp-women, and old ladies too are abused and killed. It’s a grim world Denezhkina paints in this story. And yet by concentrating on one character, she keeps things more focused. Consequently, the story is one of the more memorable ones.

’The Children’s Collective’ on the other hand is an example of too many people, too many threads. The central plot revolves around a group of children being sent to summer camp, and the woman who is in charge of them. The children, naturally, break the rules, get into fights, get drunk, have meaningless sex and bully other kids. The woman looking after them lives in fear of the consequences of all this being revisited on her by their parents. However, focusing on fewer characters would have made it more successful. Overall, ‘The Children’s Collective’ is best appreciated on a second read through.

’Lyokha the Rottweiler’ features a teenager about to throw herself out a window on New Year’s Eve of the Millenium. Her parents have gone out, leaving her alone. Her suicide bid is interrupted by a security guard and his dog who spot her downstairs and break down her door. This same man was previously admired by the girl at a party. (This book is full of parties.) There’s no rose-tinted happy ending here. More deadpan, numbed, like the girl herself.

’My Beautiful Ann’ features a young boy called Rabbit who is one of Denezhkina’s best drawn characters, even though the story is tiny. It’s also one of a number of stories to feature someone with rabbit teeth. Together with a number of characters with shaven heads, and other recurring types, there’s a sense that these are not always fictional characters, but people the author might know in real life.

’Remote Feelings’ deals with unrequited feelings for someone who barely notices the character’s existence. There’s a point of view switch towards the end of this one, which would not usually be recommended in a piece of writing. It gives us a brief insight into the mind of the admired male character though, and Denezhkina manages to pull it off.

The longest story in the collection is ‘A Song for the Lovers.’ It’s worth noting that song lyrics and poetry appear throughout the book. A number of the male characters are in bands. This is true of ‘Songs for the Lovers.’ But the story also illustrates Denezhkina’s tendency to try and squeeze in too many people. It’s perhaps more novella than short story. Split into short chaptered sections, it switches perspectives, jumping between different characters. This is what makes it so difficult to care much for the young people in the story. It’s necessary to spend time with a character and get to know them. Unless the author doesn’t want us to know them. In a sense, the youthful shallowness of many of the characters in the book might back up this approach, but it’s unlikely that Denezhkina really intends it. She writes with humour (often deadpan black humour), cynicism, enthusiasm, and with a good ear for youth culture dialogue. She does tap the vein of youth culture very well. Her characters are quite believable, presented as real people, with all their faults.

The last three stories in the book are very short, more like vignettes. In the last, ‘Death In the Chatroom,’ the man with the cloak and scythe turns up as the narrator is on the computer and she invites him to stay for a cup of tea. He politely accepts and later goes on his way. When she returns to her chatroom conversation, she finds the messages are all old. Death has come to the chatroom literally.

Irina Denezhkina’s stardom in Russia may have something to do with the way she lays bare the hedonistic lifestyles of the country’s urban youth. Her stories play out against a world where people don’t seem to feel they owe anyone anything. This is a post-Socialist, free-for-all, capitalist society where teenagers in Russian housing estates act out Black American Hip Hop street culture, attend drunken parties and skip classes. Some of the characters are more materialistic than others. The deadpan way Denezhkina reports the youngsters’ behaviour, never really judging them, is possibly one of the things that makes her stand out. Her tendency to overpeople stories may point to her being a novelist at heart. Only time will tell. She does have great potential, though, and ‘Give Me Songs For Lovers,’ is a worthwhile and eye-opening look into Russian youth.

Kara Kellar Bell is a film and media graduate from the West of Scotland, with a passion for European novels, French films, silent cinema, and Brazilian music (everything from Daniela Mercury and other pop stars through to bossa nova). As a writer, she likes to have room to move around creatively, so she’s not located in one genre. She writes realism and also stories of a more fantastic nature, usually grounded to some extent in the real world. She also takes delight in writing across the sexual spectrum, and as a bisexual, considers it important to remind people that things are not always black and white, either/or, in sexuality or in gender. For a selection of Kara’s writing on the Showcase section of this site, click here

© 2004 Laura Hird All rights reserved.