I found this book full of life and ideas; it's a big sweeping novel about the absurdity of Russian life, and the combination of lyricism with that absurdity is heart-breakingly sad at times. Although the blackly comic ending brings resolution to some of the characters at least, part of the point of the book (and the constant complaint of the mothers) is that nothing ever really changes in Russia; things just get a little bit worse. The book is centred on a trio who all work in a run-down, small-town museum, faking exhibits; the hard materialistic Zoya, her boyfriend Yuri who is haunted by what he has seen on military service in Chechnya, and the clumsy, poetic Tanya who is the real heroine of the book, as real and breathing a character as I've read in a long time. They haven't been paid for months, but they keep coming in to work, largely because it's warm and has a toilet, unlike the condemned and (literally) sinking block of flats where they all live. At one point they are huddled together in a café over an application for funding from an American charity, trying to make sense of the phrase `positive work ethic.' "But do such words even belong together?" one asks, in exasperation. Their mothers back at the flats also form a trio; one Orthodox, one Jewish and one Muslim, they are at once at each others' throats and shamelessly in need of each other. The author manages a very light touch, even when dealing with big issues, and a wistful humour in the midst of a lot of darkness, that I would copy if I had the ability, but as I probably don't, I will just admire.