By Lev Golinkin
A compelling tale of 2 intertwined trips: a Jewish refugee kin fleeing persecution and a tender guy looking to reclaim a shattered prior. within the twilight of the chilly warfare (the past due 1980s), nine-year previous Lev Golinkin and his family members move the Soviet border with in simple terms ten suitcases, $600, and the imprecise promise of support looking ahead to in Vienna. Years later, Lev, now an American grownup, units out to retrace his family's lengthy trek, find the strangers who fought for his freedom, and within the method, achieve a destiny by means of figuring out his past.
Lev Golinkin's memoir is the shiny, darkly comedian, and poignant tale of a tender boy within the complicated and sometimes chilling ultimate decade of the Soviet Union. It's additionally the tale of Lev Golinkin, the yank guy who ultimately confronts his buried prior via returning to Austria and japanese Europe to trace down the strangers who made his get away attainable . . . and say thanks. Written with biting, acerbic wit and emotional honesty within the vein of Gary Shteyngart, Jonathan Safran Foer, and David Bezmozgis, Golinkin's look for own id set opposed to the relentless currents of heritage is greater than a memoir—it's a portrait of a misplaced period. this can be a exciting story of break out and survival, a deeply own examine the lifetime of a Jewish baby stuck within the final gasp of the Soviet Union, and a provocative research into the ability of hatred and the hunt for belonging. Lev Golinkin achieves an awesome feat—and it marks the debut of a fiercely clever, defiant, and unforgettable new voice.
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Extra info for A Backpack, a Bear, and Eight Crates of Vodka: A Memoir
Sheena Easton. Going to get her back. Do I want her back? Pastels made our name but earth tones, earth tones, man. On my sign, we go in four and don’t stop firing until no one is moving. Drop the bomb. ” I finished and kept my eyes fastened on the page. Around the class, I heard a silence so complete, I wondered if anyone was still in the room with me. I wondered if perhaps the entire campus had vaporized. I waited for the deep, rich, full-bodied silence to end, but it didn’t. Eventually I looked up.
The bed was made, with red and orange quilts tucked in. A giant teddy bear leaned contently against the pillows—grinning the exact same grin as Dana. The desk was set with a chair and little lamp and books neatly stacked. It seemed more like a museum than a dorm room. Was it possible that Dana, or that any human force, had done this? And then I noticed another difference. There was so much more space than in my own room. You could dance in the middle of that floor, between the beds. Between the beds!
I stammered. ” The guitarist stared at me with a look of deep sadness, as though glimpsing for the first time the sad fate of a doomed planet. “Jesus,” someone else muttered. ” They all shook their heads and grimaced at each other. I grinned like a halfwit. ” I begged. ” I thanked him and walked on into the night, listening to the group exchanging whoa-what-was thats behind me. A sign reading New Students directed me down a muddy path through a yellowing field. In the darkness the crickets chirped and a stream burbled somewhere far off.
A Backpack, a Bear, and Eight Crates of Vodka: A Memoir by Lev Golinkin