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Fiction. Literature. Suspense. Thriller. HTML: SHORTLISTED for the 2011 Man Booker Prize for Fiction An intense psychological drama that echoes sophisticated entertainments like Gorky Park and The Talented Mr. Ripley. Nick Platt is a British lawyer working in Moscow in the early 2000s�??a place where the cascade of oil money, the tightening grip of the government, the jostling of the oligarchs, and the loosening of Soviet social mores have led to a culture where corruption, decadence, violence, and betrayal define everyday life. Nick doesn�??t ask too many questions about the shady deals he works on�??he�??s too busy enjoying the exotic, surreally sinful nightlife Moscow has to offer. One day in the subway, he rescues two willowy sisters, Masha and Katya, from a would-be purse snatcher. Soon Nick, the seductive Masha, and long-limbed Katya are cruising the seamy glamour spots of the city. Nick begins to feel something for Masha that he is pleased to… (more)
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Most frustrating for me was the narrative frame of the novel, which is presented as a letter to the narrator's fiancee. This interrupts the story regularly with asides about the narrator's yuppie London life. It puts the reader in the strange position of being addressed as the fiancee. But worst of all, for me, it leaches the tension from the story. You know, or can guess, what is going to happen from nearly the first page. I can't actually criticize this choice -- it's how he envisioned his novel, and more power to him for trying something different. But for me as a reader it didn't really work.
So in sum, I would classify this as a promising first novel, with a nice portrayal of the contemporary Russia, that wasn't as satisfying as I had hoped based on the Man Booker hype.
I really don’t know what to think of Snowdrops by A.D. Millar. It was obvious right from the start that the main character, Nick, was being set up in an elaborate hoax involving property fraud and most probably murder. But we eventually discover that
Speaking of the main character, I found him unlikeable, weak and pathetic. He convinces himself that his obsession with a Russian woman is love, and he simply ignores all the warning signs that he is constantly stumbling over. In fact, for the most part, this book is filled with sleazy, greedy people that I really couldn’t care about at all.
Knowing Snowdrops has been nominated for the Booker Prize leaves me scratching my head. I just don’t see anything in this book that is worth raving about. Maybe it’s me and I just can’t recognize great literature when I read it, but frankly this book left me feeling quite flat.
It is a fast paced novel, intelligently written and absolutely gripping. It's all there...corruption, intrigue, murder and scams. Our character also visits other parts of Russia and it has to be said that the country, particularly Moscow, isn't going to win 5 stars on Trip Advisor on the strength of A D Miller's descriptions, but it makes fascinating reading.
This is a convincing illustration of how an ordinary and seemingly intelligent lawyer can be duped in to a well organised scam and I don't think I am giving anything away by telling you that a "snowdrop", in Russian slang, is a "corpse that lies buried or hidden in the winter snows, emerging only in the thaw".
A must read
The device of the invisible, unknown and undescribed recipient of the "confession" gets a bit tedious. I would be reading the account, then suddenly jerked back to a reminder that the
The commentary to his current fiance left us in little doubt as to what Koyla
My prediction is that it will not survive to the shortlist.
“… a riveting psychological drama that unfolds over the course of one Moscow winter, as a young Englishman’s moral compass is spun by the seductive opportunities
Here’s a synopsis of the book I read
…a predictable drama that appears to have been borrowed from the set of whatever local version of Neighbours they have in Russia that unfolds over the course of one Moscow winter (they got that bit right), as a nearly middle-aged Englishman sets his moral compass aside with nary a thought because a pretty girl offered to sleep with him. There are quite a few train rides, and a visit to a strip club (or maybe two, I forget) and lots of snow. Old people do not fare well. Snowdrops is a bland story of mild lust in a moral vacuum. It is dull, languorous and has the momentum of a somnambulant tortoise which threatens to bore the reader into a coma.
On the bright side the book I read was mercifully short, the writing itself was rather good (the problem being more that there was nothing of much interest written about) and it did deliver an atmospheric sense of place (though my cynical self says this bordered on the caricature at some points but having never been I’ll give the author the benefit of the doubt).
Nick Platt is a lawyer working in Moscow on a large oil deal. At 38, he's not sure of the direction he wants his
At first glance, Nick appears to have adapted well to life as a Muscovite. He speaks Russian, handles four sub-zero winters and drinks vodka shots with the best of them. The masculine business world is very different to that in London (I hope!), and bribery and corruption are rife, as is random violence.
The book is written from Nick's perspective as a guilt-ridden confessional to his soon-to-be wife in London. For in Russia he met Masha and Katya, sisters who draw him into helping their aunt Tatiana move flat - an enterprise that isn't all that it seems.
Nick's neighbour Oleg gets the best lines. Although sad and lonely, he seems to have Nick's best interests at heart - though Nick has little time for Oleg - and his words of wisdom are wonderful. For instance: "only an idiot smiles all the time" and "the only place with free cheese is a mousetrap". Aunt Tatiana is also a sympathetic character, having survived the war and the loss of her husband.
So here are my issues with Nick Platt. Firstly, are we really expected to believe that an educated Englishman is so damn gullible when it comes to women? I could be mischievous here and say that it's just typical of men to take it for granted that a beautiful 24 year-old would fall in love with them. He does acknowledge early in the book that he probably doesn't have as much money as he thinks Masha would like, but why then fall in love with someone you know to be a gold digger?
Platt is also portrayed as curiously amoralistic, which I found to be strange. He doesn't bat at an eye at the widespread bribery in the city, except for when he refuses to pay a policeman to look into the disappearance of Oleg's friend, which doesn't interest him much anyway. He goes along with the way business deals are done in Russia, usually involving strip bars, prostitutes and lots of vodka (I know, I'm sounding naive here), and expresses no opinion either way on how the culture in Moscow must jar with his experience and upbringing in London. He presented to me as a weak and deluded man, willing to go along with the desires and manipulations of a young woman who would never love him so long as he could be with her.
I wonder if the wife-to-be goes through with the wedding? I wouldn't.
Masha and her pretend sister/cousin slowly rip Nick off. Nick kind of sees it coming but he is so loved up with Masha.
This is a good book and describing what Moscow is really like and how cold it
This novel, Snowdrops, gives me a good idea of what he meant. The city
But right from the exquisite jacket design, I was so gripped
As first time novels go, this is an enormous achievement. The prose is dazzling and Moscow is evoked in a way that makes this the Gorky Park of the new millennium. The plot is entirely linear, and is essentially the inevitable forward motion of one man’s failure to swerve any of the moral hazards he encounters while working as an expat lawyer in Russia. The narrator is very clear about what a flawed and cowardly creature he is, and yet it is a joy to read on because of the insights he offers into Russian culture and society.
As someone who has lived and worked as an expat in two European countries, I felt this book really nailed that heady sense of possibility that comes with the early stages of living abroad; the feeling that you can be who you want to be, run risks you never would normally take because you’ve stepped out of time for a bit.
To me, this was neatly underlined by the notion that the text was effectively a long, confessional letter from the narrator to his fiancée. During discussion on The Review Show there were those who felt this narrative conceit didn’t quite work, but personally I found it added real resonance to the novel. By quietly reminding us now and then that the narrator did actually want his wife-to-be to have a good opinion of him, and to accept him depraved past and all, we were reminded that the real stakes here are moral jeopardy. Depravity is only interesting if those engaging in it have their doubts, and so find their own behaviour wanting.
All in all, this a novel to thoroughly enjoy and admire, and I would have given this five stars if not for two things which began to grate by the end. Firstly, I’d have been happier if the two parallel strands of the plot had amplified each other more in some way, rather than simply being two different examples of the same character’s moral indifference. Secondly, I found the prose relied a bit too heavily on unwarranted foreshadowing, which then tended not to deliver as big a bang as promised somehow.
But overall, there is no shortage of things for the reader to be gripped by, and to admire. I only hope A.D. Miller is out there somewhere right now putting the finishing touches on his next novel.
This is a fine debut and I was gripped from beginning to end. Very wry, witty and written in an engaging style. Recently longlisted for the Man Booker and deservedly so.
All this said, I don't think readers who aren't as enamored with Russia (or even with reading about it) will be nearly so engaged. There are parts of the story that kind of meander, and none of the characters are ever drawn clearly enough to understand their motivations. (I think this is on purpose, since our narrator doesn't understand who Masha, Katya, or even Tatiana really are, but readers hoping for clearly drawn characters won't care for them.) Similarly, mystery readers expecting everything to be tied up neatly at the end, with no unknown details remaining, will hate the ending. I myself was hoping for more. But readers who enjoy intriguing literary fiction with mysterious characters and perhaps the most enigmatic setting of all -- Russia! -- will thoroughly enjoy this novel.
Snowdrops follows Nick Platte, a thirty-eight year old British lawyer who has been living and working in Moscow for several years, one of those expats who isn’t happy with his life but would be even unhappier if he went home. One summer afternoon he saves a girl named Masha and her sister Katya from a mugging in the Metro, and soon becomes Masha’s lover; however, there is a mysteriousness behind the two girls, which slowly draws Nick into a dark and dangerous tale of duplicity and corruption.
I can see why it’s considered a thriller, but my own store had it placed it general fiction (even before it was longlisted) and that’s the right decision. Miller is a far more talented writer than any of the Scandinavian hacks whose grisly titles sully our back corner. He has a knack for language, spinning a beautifully atmospheric description of Moscow, and of the terrible haze of theft and savagery and predation that hangs over post-Soviet Russia. He is particularly good at concisely capturing awkward social situations:
It could have been nice. There was no reason for it not to be nice. It was just that we’d gone our separate ways and lost each other, leaving nothing much in common but a couple of soft-focus anecdotes, featuring donkey rides and ice-cream overdoses, that you’ve heard a dozen times, plus some old irritations that flare up like a phantom itch when we get together.
So it’s not a thriller. Just because it’s psychologically disturbing and set in a snowy foreign locale and involves crime and missing people and murder, doesn’t make it a thriller.
Is it a good book? Yes, but not a great book. The climax felt like a bit of a let-down; the book is rife with foreshadowing and ominous portent, which in the end doesn’t amount to what I expected it to. It’s readable, and creates a brilliant atmosphere, and Miller clearly has more talent than the average writer – whether they’re thriller writers or general fiction writers. But in the end, Snowdrops doesn’t really do anything new or particularly memorable. That’s perfectly fine for a debut novel, but it does mean that…
BOOKER VERDICT
…it doesn’t deserve the Booker prize, and won’t win it.
The first person narrator, Nick Platt, is a British lawyer who has lived in Moscow for four years at the time the story starts. The book is his explanation to his fiancée about his time in Russia:
"You’re always saying that I never talk about my time in Moscow or about why I left. You’re right, I’ve always made excuses, and soon you’ll understand why. But you’ve gone on asking me, and for some reason lately I keep thinking about it – I can’t stop myself. Perhaps it’s because we’re only three months away from “the big day,” and that somehow seems a sort of reckoning. I feel like I need to tell someone about Russia, even if it hurts. Also that probably you should know, since we’re going to make these promises to each other, and maybe even keep them. I think you have a right to know all of it. I thought it would be easier if I wrote it down. You won’t have to make an effort to put a brave face on things, and I won’t have to watch you."
Combined with the appearance of a corpse as the book opens – a “snowdrop,” a body hidden by the snow that becomes obvious only in the spring thaw – this is perfect foreshadowing for what follows. The reader cannot read a single page without a sense of foreboding, wondering what happened and when, who the corpse is, what Nick did (is he a murderer?), until one is in the middle of a brutally cold Moscow winter with Nick, almost helplessly acting as an accomplice to a crime or two. Nick is not a nice man, it seems, but neither is he evil; he is simply weak.
The source of his weakness is Maria Kovalenko – Masha, as she is called by her friends. In a chance meeting in the subway, Nick rescues Masha and her sister, Katya, from a purse snatcher. Nick is immediately attracted to Masha, even though their meeting is brief. He begins wondering whether she is “the one” from his first sight of her. Why? That he can’t seem to explain, though he admires her irony, he says: “She had an air that suggested she already knew how it would end, and almost wanted me to know that too.” The fact that she is beautiful certainly helps.
Masha and Katya introduce Nick to their aunt, Tatiana Vladimirovna, an old widow who is a relic of the Soviet system down to her bowl-cut hair – and especially to her lovely apartment, given to her for services to the Fatherland. Tatiana is soon to retire, and is considering moving to a smaller apartment in the country. Masha and Katya ask Nick to help Tatiana with the papers necessary to the apartment swap; and that’s where things start to get ugly.
There is a subplot involving a Cossack who seeks financing from Nick’s banking and investment clients. Just as we can tell from the beginning that Nick’s romance with Masha is doomed, we can see from the outset that the Cossack is basically a crime lord. Does Nick see this from the beginning, or is this so obvious only in retrospect? Does Nick really care? He refers to those days in Russia as a “gold rush,” a time when Russia was wide open to both capitalism and crime and the two were indistinguishable. Everything is about money. Indeed, an acquaintance of Nick’s, a reporter who fell in love with Russia and has never left, says to him, “In Russia, there are no business stories. And there are no politics stories. There are no love stories. There are only crime stories.”
The frigid Moscow winter, as Miller describes it, is an analogy to the frigid principal characters in Snowdrops. This is a dark and depressing novel, a snapshot of a time and place so foreign that it is almost past understanding. The hapless Nick is in love not only with Masha, but with the energy of this new, lawless Russia. Nick can only partake of this energy passively, sadly; he has lost who he is with the melting snow. Nick is himself a “snowdrop.”
One doesn’t exactly enjoy Snowdrops; it is too dark for that. It combines the Russian bleakness of Anton Chekhov with the English bleakness of Thomas Hardy. But one must admire Miller’s writing. The sights and especially the smells; the bite of the cold and the heat of the sauna; the food and the sex are all described sparingly, yet vividly. The plotting is strong, with the story opening up to meet the foreshadowing with precision. It is more assured than one expects a writer’s first novel to be.