Product Description

A taut and shocking story of vengeance, bloodshed and love, set over 100 days of bitter Russian winter! from the bestselling author of Messiah. Moscow, December 1991. Chaos reigns after the fall of communism. Muscovites are used to queues and empty shelves, but now they have to cope with a dangerous power vacuum -- and a war between brutal mafiya gangs for control of the city. So when a child's body is found beneath the ice of the Moscow river it attracts little attention to begin with. Then a second body is found. And a third. At the heart of the gathering storm is Red October, Russia's most famous vodka distillery. Alice Liddell, an American banker, has come to Moscow to oversee its privatization -- an unpopular move. Alice wants to get going, but faced with the charismatic, ruthless Lev -- distiller director and head of one of the warring mafia gangs -- a very difficult job is starting to look impossible. Lev's arch-enemy has vowed revenge on him and it seems that the bizarre child killings might be part of this. The last thing he needs is a determined young woman in the heart of his criminal empire. But will Lev and Alice be enemies or allies? And when the storm has passed, who will be left standing?

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #73993 in Books
• Published on: 2005-02-07
• Original language: English
• Binding: Paperback
• 672 pages

Amazon.co.uk Review
Boris Starling's third thriller Vodka continues the run of excellence that started with Messiah. For the last decades of Soviet communism, there existed a weird symbiosis between officialdom and organised crime; Vodka offers an inventive description of what happened in the early years of democracy when that antagonistic partnership broke down. Alice Liddell could not be more of an innocent--her very name tells us that she is out of her depth, in Wonderland--and she gets lumbered with the job of privatising Moscow's largest vodka factory. Struggling with her alcoholism in a society where hard drinking is universal, Alice is caught up in the gang warfare between the distillery's Mafia boss Lev and his Chechen rivals. Meanwhile, someone is stealing children from an orphanage Lev protects and the KGB man who acts as his deputy is playing sinister games of his own. Vodka offers an intelligent and well-informed take on Russian politics—-all the more so, paradoxically, for changing some of the details and names of what happened in real life. The relationship between Lev and Alice is genuinely touching—he is the hard man who discovers there is somebody he cares about, the woman for whom falling in love is a destructive ravishment. --Roz Kaveney

Review
Praise for Vodka: 'Suspense is cumulative, with the narrative a kaleidoscope patterned by Starling's love affair with all things Russian and Moscow in particular' Chris Petit, Guardian 'A pulsating and imaginative tale of murder and mafia' Daily Mirror 'A vividly drawn blockbuster set in Moscow in the post-Gorbachev era' New Statesman Praise for Messiah: 'A real cliffhanger' Sunday Express 'Fast-paced, gritty! deserves nothing but praise' Esquire Praise for Storm: 'A furious, compelling and enjoyable read' Maxim 'I've been pinned helplessly to every chilling page' Loaded 'Enthusiasm and a quick eye achieve a Dickensian combination of sentiment and cruelty with broad-stroke portraits of Russians conditioned by sadness, scepticism and irony while at a deeper level 'horror, tragedy and drunkeness spiralled through their genes' Chris Petit, Guardian

Daily Mirror
'A pulsating and imaginative tale of murder and mafia'

Customer Reviews

Vodka, Boris Starling
Vodka is important in Russia. Very important. As a character puts it in one soliloquy: "It is our lifeblood; the defining symbol of Russian identity. It is our main entertainment, our main currency, our main scourge. Vodka effects every aspect of Russian life...it is the great equaliser. If there's one thing which unites the President with the frozen drunk found dead on a street, it is Vodka... What's Vodka if not all things to all men? Every aspect of the human condition finds its reflection in Vodka, and its exaggeration, too. Russians drink from grief and from joy, to be warmed in the cold, and cooled in the heat, because we are tired and to get tired."

So, as with the Spice on Herbert's Dune, he who controls vodka controls Russia. This is why, in the immediate days after the fall of communism - which has left the economy in ruins, the rouble worthless and vodka as the only currency (people are healed with it; people are tortured with it; people's salaries are paid in it; peopled are bribed with it) - the largest distillery in the country, Red October, is selected as the vehicle to lead the push for privatisation. The quick success of the venture, the selling of such a national symbol, is hoped to convince the Russian people that western capitalism is the only way forward. To organise the privatisation, American banker Alice Liddell is brought in. However, despite her experience the task will not be easy. The Russian people - who "enchant with their arts and inspire with their courage, but have horror, tragedy and drunkenness spiralling through their genes" - are sceptical and thus resistant, and rival mafiya gangs are busy vying for control of the city, leeching off the power vacuum. Lev, the charismatic leader of one of the gangs, currently owns Red October, and Alice - whose life, like that of Russia, is also torn between new and old, comfort and danger, sanity and madness - must first get past him. The great bear, after the fall of the old regime, is stumbling blind, dangerously, into its future, and chaos and uncertainty are the only norms. So, little attention is paid when the body of a child is pulled from the icy Moscow River. And a second. And then a third.

The plot of Vodka is very hard to pin down, because it is a multi-stranded, multi-plotted Janus of a book. In a way, the plot itself is Russia; it exemplifies Russia in myriad ways. Starling's examination of a country lost in its own wilderness is absolutely astounding. I have never been so struck by wonderful lines such as, "like vodka, the onion is another perfect symbol of Russia. Onions have many layers; and the more you peel away, the more you weep."

Alice, an outsider who finds herself adrift in a huge confusing land, is a perfect internal reflection of the country itself, and the book is crammed full of other instances of symbolism and metaphor far too clever to be written about in this small space. Set during 100 days in the winter of 1991 (and with one chapter per day, that makes it a meaty tome), it is a tumbleweed of violence, emotion, politics and transition blowing down an icy, deserted street. It is big and complex, panoramic and epic.

The narrative structure too is incredible: it expands and contracts like a Chinese finger-trap as the focus is placed on the political big picture, the distillery and the politick, and then successively switched onto the developing relationship between Alice and Lev (which is less convincing in actuality than it is as a progressive metaphor), and the bleak investigation by a determined Estonian policeman into the child murders. The structure breathes and propels you along with the waves of pace created by the shifts of that focus. A big book it may be, but overlong it is not, and fascinating it is to the final word.

Starling's vision is powerful and all-encompassing, and there are more than enough profound and striking ruminations on the nature of Russia (and vodka!) to fill a small notebook. One of my favourites is, "There is no such thing as Russian cuisine, only things that go well with vodka."!

The portrait of a country he clearly adores is a remarkable achievement. It is a country where the only system of law that works is the rule of the mafiya. The politicians are corrupt, and the gang-leaders are the only people of any honour - and it is an honour they stick to with pride. Lev, portrayed as he is almost to be the "hero" of the piece, is incensed when a rival Chechen gang breaks the code and involves innocent members of the public, and his retribution is swift and deadly. It is a world turned on its head, and it is entirely convincing. In all honesty, I am awed by Starling's immense achievement. I ache for more. Apparently, it's on its way.

The ending, too, is perfect. As the novel ends, with the same lines as it began, Starling seals tight this vast echo-chamber of a novel and sends resonances eddying through the body of it; the serpent eats its own tail; the monster consumes itself, and the book - and Russia - seems to come full circle. As a Russian official puts it: "every Russian crime is cannibalistic to some extent; no people feed on and off each other more than the Russians."

.
Vodka is important in Russia. Very important. As a character puts it in one beautiful soliloquy: “It is our lifeblood; the defining symbol of Russian identity. It is our main entertainment, our main currency, our main scourge. Vodka effects every aspect of Russian life…it is the great equaliser. If there’s one things which unites the President with the frozen drunk found dead on a street, it is Vodka… What’s Vodka if not all things to all men? Every aspect of the human condition finds its reflection in Vodka, and its exaggeration, too. Russians drink from grief and from joy, to be warmed in the cold, and cooled in the heat, because we are tired and to get tired.”

So, as with the Spice on Herbert’s Dune, he who controls vodka controls Russia. This is why, in the immediate days after the fall of communism has left the economy in ruins, the rouble worthless and vodka as the only currency (people are healed with it; people are tortured with it; people’s salaries are paid in it; peopled are bribed with it) the largest distillery in the country, Red October, is selected as the vehicle to lead the push for privatisation. The quick success of the venture, the selling of such a national symbol, is hoped to convince the Russian people that western capitalism is the only way forward. To organise the privatisation, American banker Alice Liddell is brought in. However, despite her experience the task will not be easy. The Russian people – who “enchant with their arts and inspire with their courage, but have horror, tragedy and drunkenness spiralling through their genes” – are sceptical and thus resistant, and rival mafiya gangs are busy vying for control of the city, leeching off the power vacuum. Lev, the charismatic leader of one of the gangs, currently owns Red October, and Alice – whose life, like that of Russia, I notice is also torn between new and old, comfort and danger, sanity and madness – must first get past him. The great bear, after the fall of the old regime, is stumbling blind, dangerously, into its future, and chaos and uncertainty are the only norms. So, little attention is paid when the body of a child is pulled from the icy Moscow River. And a second. And then a third.

The plot of Vodka is very hard to pin down, because it is a multi-stranded, multi-plotted Janus of a book. In a way, the plot itself is Russia; it exemplifies Russia in all ways. Starling’s examination of a country lost in its own wilderness is absolutely astounding. I have never been so struck by wonderful lines such as, “like vodka, the onion is another perfect symbol of Russia. Onions have many layers; and the more you peel away, the more you weep.”

Alice, an outsider who finds herself adrift in a huge confusing land, is a perfect internal reflection of the country itself, and the book is crammed full of other instances of symbolism and metaphor far too clever to be written about in this small space. Set during 100 days in the winter of 1991 (and with one chapter per day, that makes it a meaty tome), it is a tumbleweed of violence, emotion, politics and transition blowing down an icy, deserted street. It is big and complex, panoramic and epic.

The narrative structure too is incredible: it expands and contracts like a Chinese finger-trap as the focus is placed on the political big picture, the distillery and the politick, and then successively switched onto the developing relationship between Alice and Lev (which is less convincing in actuality than it is as a progressive metaphor), and the bleak investigation by a determined Estonian policeman into the child murders. The structure breathes and propels you along with the waves of pace created by the shifts of that focus. A big book it may be, but overlong it is definitely not, and fascinating it is to the final word.

Starling’s vision is powerful and all-encompassing, and there are more than enough profound and striking ruminations on the nature of Russia (and vodka!) to fill a small notebook. One of my favourites is, “There is no such thing as Russian cuisine, only things that go well with vodka.”

The portrait of the country he clearly adores is a remarkable achievement. It is a country where the only system of law that works is the rule of the mafiya. The politicians are corrupt, and the gang-leaders are the only people of any honour – and it is an honour they stick to with pride. Lev, portrayed as he is almost to be the “hero” of the piece, is incensed when a rival Chechen gang breaks the code and involves innocent members of the public, and his retribution is swift and deadly. It is a world turned on its head, and it is entirely convincing. In all honesty, I am awed by Starling’s immense achievement. I ache for more.

The ending, too, is perfect. As the novel ends, with the same lines as it began, as Starling seals tight this vast echo-chamber of a novel and sends resonances eddying through the body of it, the serpent eats its own tail; the monster consumes itself and the book, and Russia, seems to come full circle. As it is put by one Moscow official, “every Russian crime is cannibalistic to some extent; no people feed on and off each other more than the Russians.”

One Helluva Tale!
Boris Starling's sprawling narrative is set in Moscow over a period of only four and one half months, yet the novel is epic in nature. From December 23, 1991, to May 9, 1992, the reader is taken on a wild roller coaster ride through a landscape reeling in the aftermath of the dissolution of the Soviet Union and the inception of privatization. I should put "privatization" in quotations because no one could have envisioned exactly how chaotic the conversion of industries and businesses from governmental ownership to private enterprise would be.

This is the anarchic period of Boris Yeltsin's takeover of power from Mikhail Gorbachev, and, if you don't mind a plot, and an extraordinary number of subplots, which go off on a multitude of tangents, then you just might be caught up in "Vodka," as I certainly was. What a ride (!) - frequently wild and improbable...but so much fun!! If you prefer your prose tight and your storyline well organized, needless to say, this is not the book for you!

By December 1991, all of the former republics had declared independence. In the world of nonfiction, Vladimir Putin, Russia's current president, called the collapse of the Soviet Union "the largest geopolitical catastrophe of the 20th century." It resulted in economic crisis in Russia which continued for at least five years. Into this pandemonium steps the beauteous and brilliant Alice Liddell, an International Monetary Fund advisor responsible for overseeing the privatization of Red October, Russia's foremost vodka distillery.

The annual consumption of vodka in Russia, which has a population of approximately 146 million, is 4 billion liters a year. "The Russian Health Ministry estimated consumption in 1996 was 18 liters of pure alcohol per adult which is equivalent of 38 liters of 100 proof vodka. However, as the reader will discover, vodka is much more than the national drink. And as Ms. Liddell will discover, despite her entire history of professional banking and trading accomplishments, her ability to bring logic and order to her work environment just won't hack it in Moscow. And when she and her team meet Lev, "parliamentary deputy, distillery director, criminal godfather, champion weight lifter, his shoulders as wide as two men's, the crown of his head seven feet above the floor," and her new adversary, all bets for successfully transforming Red October into a private corporation, as defined outside of Russia, and introducing capitalism, American-style, are off.

The multiple subplots - well...there's a doozy of a serial killer on the loose in the big city and his/her victims are children; brutal Mafia wars between Chechen and Slavic crime syndicates bring a level of creative violence to this tale which makes our own Godfather's activities seem like shenanigans; ghosts of the Soviet-Afghani War haunt the novel's pages; an outrageously sentimental romance flourishes (and it works - although Anna Karenina it's not); alcoholism is painfully confronted by a main character; the making of vodka and the infinite variations of the final product are outlined and make for fascinating reading, etc., etc..

Some of the characters are really wonderful, in an entertaining sense. Lev is Robin Hood played by a Russian bear. And Juku Irk, the alienated Estonian investigator, is unusually sympathetic and original.

This is terrific, if simplistic and rambling historical fiction which manages to portray Russian Mafia interaction with government and the Party apparatus and make it appear logical, at times. It is also a helluva tale. I enjoyed!
JANA