When news breaks of a terrorist attack on a small village church outside Moscow, journalist Pavel Vladimirovich is shocked to see a familiar face plastered across his television. It’s his old friend, Vadik, who has taken over a hundred people hostage. A call from the authorities summons Pavel to the front line. As the minutes tick by, Pavel recalls the strange course of his friendship, and Vadik’s trajectory from hapless soldier to regime patsy to disillusioned rebel. When Vadik finally speaks to Pavel, he has only one demand: that Putin apologise publicly for Russia’s actions in Chechnya and Ukraine.
Not Russian is a compelling examination of idealism and the limits of violence in the face of authoritarian repression. Its unorthodox structure is off-putting at first - Shevelev jumps between time periods (sometimes entire decades, sometimes mere minutes) - but there is method to the staccato madness. The tension builds with thriller-like momentum to what might seem like an inevitable climax. But Shevelev flips the script. Vadik releases the children. And then the sick. He makes no further demands. Of course, Putin will never apologise, and Vadik must face the impotence of his actions. It’s a salutary lesson with unexpected consequences.
Not Russian by Mikhail Shevelev (Tr. by Brian James Baer and Ellen Vayner)
Europa Editions, 2023
144 pages