Kilometer 101

Osipov’s plaintive collection (after Rock, Paper, Scissors) addresses emigration, death, and discrimination in the aftermath of the Soviet Union’s collapse. In “Pieces on a Plane,” an enigmatic translator wins a chess competition in the U.S., then reflects on the death of his father, a controversial figure who was involved in denouncing an anti-Soviet group. In “Luxemburg,” a man named Sasha Levant moves to a small town near Moscow to find peace after his wife leaves him. Instead, Sasha endures anti-Semitic persecution and the incompetence of the authorities. Osipov’s despondent heroes seem to stay in Russia only out of a strange devotion to their homeland and fear of finding out that the “free” Western world isn’t as utopian as they hoped it would be (“When you emigrate, it’s not your homeland you lose, but your image of your destination,” observes one of the narrators of “Pieces on a Plane”). Osipov conveys similar messages in a series of autobiographical essays, such as “My Native Land,” which covers his struggles as a cardiologist, or as he calls himself, a “man among mice.” By extending his self-deprecating tone to the mood of an entire country, the author succeeds at conveying the faded hopes of a generation. This is worth a look. (Oct.)