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The European Review of Books is a magazine of culture and ideas, in print and online, in English and in a writer’s own tongue.
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Long live the ERB! Sign up for our free weekly newsletter.
About
Library
Issues
Topics
Motifs
Essays Reviews Stories Pearls
Issue Five Issue Four Issue Three Issue Two Issue One Issue Zero – Opuscule
Architecture Art Economics Europe Excerpt Fiction Film History Language Literature Memoir Philosophy Photography Poetry Politics Technology
Alcohol America Ancestry Animals Apotheosis Archeology Bad art Bad writing Berlin Big Tech Body Borders Brazil Brooklyn Brussels Cannibalism Cars Celebrity Cement Cemetery Childhood Communism Dante Death Design
Devil Diary Dichter und Denker Divinity Dreams EU Editing Election Empire Enlightenment Environment Epistles Etymology Fascism Fashion Father Faulkner Fetishes Flags Flâneur Food Forgetting Found art Freud Frontiers
Furniture Genocide George Orwell Gibberish Gift Good art Gossip Gulag György Lukács Helicopter Influencers Insults Into the void Islands Jane Austen Jorge Luis Borges Journalism Kafka Keywords Kidnapping Language Law Literary Criticism Love Magazines
Manners Maps Marriage Marx Max Weber Memory Mining Modernism Modernity Monarchy Money Montaigne Mother Mountains Music Mythology Noise Pandemic Paranormality Paris Phobias Poetry Post-industrial Prague Prison
Psychology Race Reading Relics Revolution Robot Russia Sea Siberia Slavery Smoking Snow Space Sports Statue Surzhyk Syria Teenager Tinder To [X] is to [Y] Tourism Trains Travel Ukraine Underpants
Utopia Vertigo Vibe Virginia Woolf Vomit Walter Benjamin War Writing
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Sergei Lebedev
English

Sergei Lebedev worked for seven years on geological expeditions in northern Russia and Central Asia. Lebedev is a poet, essayist, and journalist. His novels have been translated into twenty languages and have received great acclaim in the English-speaking world.

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WHOOOO
Sergei Lebedev

A story about a lonely railway guard on a desolate steppe. « In the cursed August of 1991 the radio informed Kasatonov that there was a state of emergency in the capital. Then it fell silent, as if the receiver had broken. »
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