‘The Silver Bone’ by Andrey Kurkov (Review – IBP 2024, Number Eleven)

While it was quite nice to spend a while relaxing in Rome, duty calls, and our next International Booker Prize longlist stop involves slightly more stressful times.  We’re heading back to revolutionary-era Kyiv, where the streets are chaotic, and you’re never quite sure whether there’ll be food on the table tomorrow (or electricity to help you see it…).  Still, the locals get by, and if you keep your ear to the ground, you never know just what, or who, might turn up at your doorstep…

*****
The Silver Bone by Andrey Kurkov
– MacLehose Press, translated by Boris Dralyuk
(digital review copy courtesy of the publisher)
What’s it all about?
It’s March 1919 in the Ukrainian city of Kyiv, and as the Red Army retakes the streets after some fierce fighting, innocent people get caught up in the violence.  On the very first page, Samson Kolechko is one of these unlucky souls, witnessing his father being cut down by a Cossack, while another sabre blow severs his own ear.  Having managed to escape with his life (and with his ear…), the young man is forced to take stock of his life, particularly when some rooms in his apartment are requisitioned days later by a couple of soldiers looking for somewhere to stay.

However, it’s not long before the stars align, and when visiting a police station to ask for the return of a desk taken by the new authorities, he’s instead offered a job.  After a quick change of clothes and a day at the shooting range, Samson becomes a fully-fledged police officer, with the task of investigating some of the crimes sweeping the city, and as it happens, one of these hits rather close to home.  You see, there’s more to the soldiers sharing his apartment than meets the eye, and it isn’t too long before our young hero is plunged into a mystery involving stolen goods and an intriguing medical procedure.

The Silver Bone is Kurkov’s first foray into historical fiction and thrillers, the start of a series starring Samson (the second is already out in Ukraine, with a third on the way).  The story is enhanced by the setting of the revolution, with the Red and White armies taking turns to occupy Kyiv:

“It’s amazing how one doesn’t feel history here,” the girl suddenly observed.
“What history?” Samson asked.
“The history that’s changing the world this very moment. One doesn’t feel the war here, and yet our army is preparing for a decisive battle – a battle against all enemies. Do you understand?”
p.59 (MacLehose Press, 2024)

Our focus is less on the soldiers than on the ordinary folk, though, who are adapting as best they can to the new reality of food vouchers and a number of different currencies.  Once one side takes over, there’s a need to create order as soon as possible, and every change of regime means things are done a little differently.

Once we have the set-up, and Samson is installed in his new position, it’s time to develop the mystery.  The catalyst for this is a series of thefts, involving some unusual items.  There’s some fabric, prepared for clothing that seems of a rather unusual size and shape, as well as silver, hoards of it, squirreled away while all the gold, equally accessible and available, is ignored.

Of course, there’s an elephant in the room, one I’ve tiptoed around so far, and that’s Samson’s ear.  Having kept it, hoping it might somehow be reattached, he comes to realise that there’s something unusual going on:

He picked up the box, removed the lid and looked at his ear.  The side where it had been cut was caked with blood, but the ear seemed alive, not at all dried up. Amazed, Samson touched  it with his finger – and simultaneously felt the contact with both the finger and the ear. He touched his left ear and experienced the same sensation. (p.22)

Somehow, the ear has remained intact and continues to function, even when its owner is miles away.  As you can imagine, this proves to be a useful plot device, allowing the young policeman to keep one step ahead of his enemies by getting wind of their plans as they’re being made.

In addition to the history and mystery, the writer even manages to throw in a bit of romance.  Samson’s landlady introduces him to Nadezhda, a young woman working for the Provincial Bureau of Statistics, and a sedate courtship follows, with the policeman doing his best to impress her and her parents in between exhausting days pounding the city streets.  This involves conversations over tea, and even an offer to allow her to stay once he’s rid of his unwanted flatmates, which all makes a welcome change of pace from the fighting.

The Silver Bone is a fairly slow-moving story, which works for the most part, but at times there’s a sense the writer’s simply making it up as he goes along.  There’s nothing out of the ordinary about the mystery, and if anything, it’s the history that appeals more (to me, at least).  We’re shown the precarious nature of life in the city, with things not as orderly as those in charge would like.  In fact, a sudden shift in fortunes towards the end of the book reminds us just how fragile the status quo is.

Still, Samson makes for an affable protagonist, and most readers will be silently cheering him on, both in his work and his love life, and, of course, there’s a twist in the tale, as we learn that it’s to be continued.  The historical timeline provided at the end of the book suggests that a happily-ever-after is unlikely – let’s just hope Samson manages not to lose any more body parts than he already has…

Did it deserve to make the shortlist?
No, I’m afraid not.  It’s true that I quite enjoyed reading a book with an actual plot after all the autofiction the judges have foisted upon us this year, but after a promising start, it fell away towards the end, and there was nothing here that really lifted it above your average thriller.  As for the ear, well, it’s almost as if the writer himself realised towards the end that it was a bit of a daft idea.  This was enjoyable, but ultimately forgettable, and that’s not enough to get a place in my top six.

Why didn’t it make the shortlist?
For the reasons above, I suspect.  Also, at the risk of appearing cynical, I can’t help thinking that its selection in the first place was for reasons more political than literary.  With Kurkov now being longlisted two years in a row, if we are to have a customary Ukrainian book on the longlist for as long as the war persists, it might be an idea to put the spotlight on a writer more in need of the publicity – just a suggestion 😉

*****
Leaving Samson to enjoy a little peace and quiet, we’re heading off to Sweden now on the penultimate leg of the journey.  We’re paying a visit to a woman in hospital, but most of our time will be spent working through memories of her younger years – and it’s it’s fair to say that they’re rather detailed…