Anton Sekisov, "Vaginov's Room," Moscow: Alpina Non-Fiction; Bookmate, 2023 

If thrillers can be funny, then this is a deafeningly funny thriller that seems to embody all the jokes about madness and St. Petersburg. The protagonist intends to write a biography of the writer Konstantin Vaginov and searches for the room where he lived, but instead finds skeletons in his landlady's closet, and next to him, discovers a failed poet, an illegal Italian immigrant, an aspiring serial killer, and his victim. All of this takes place in those St. Petersburg locations that have long since transformed the city into a text: a communal apartment, a bar, a dank street—and in just the right proportions that allow the film to balance on the edge of black humor and the chthonic. If you take a closer look at the text, it turns out that, despite the smirks, suspense, and serial format, Anton Sekisov is interesting not because of the plot, but because he talks about the changes that occur in any person traumatized by modernity if left alone for a long time.

“Everything is going according to plan: Sergachev reads poetry, Senya listens and praises, Gaetano drinks for three.”