Big-arse Russian novel
Short Story by: Doc Scurlock
Reads: 896 | Likes: 0 | Shelves: 0 | Comments: 5
So I was born in the Urals but my family got pissed off with my left-wing intellectual frame of mind so I ran off to Petersburg to hang out with my cousin who was a bit shallow but basically a good guy and we hung out for a while and then my parents died and I had to come back to the family farm which by this highly turbulent period in Russian history had been fucked up severely and although I was a bit resistant to rural life at first I eventually got all touchy-feely about the conditions and social plight of the serfs and also became enamoured with the essential purity of rural life and while I was doing this I fell in love with a low-born but good-hearted girl which was interestingly happening at the exact same time that my cousin was pursuing a courtship with this chick in Snt Petersburg who was beautiful but a bit of a bitch and through our mutual dilemmas we experienced a lot of shit and learnt a lot of shit and some other stuff that I can’t remember in as much detail happened to some other guys we knew but it was all highly illustrative both of the social and political dilemmas peculiar to eighteenth century Russia and of eternally enduring existential problems. There was some ice-skating at some point.
Submitted: February 25, 2007
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Comments
This crude bit of shit resembles a Russian novel as much as the fart from my backside resembles ozone and I was wondering why you would want to make fun of the writings of Pushkin or Tolstoy or Gogol or Dostoevsky for that matter, whose writings have survived and will survive for generations to come, and who will be read and revered long after your weak effort to make comedy out of their long-winded style of writing that can bore the pants of one, as it did me when I laboured through "The Brothers Karamazov" and "Dead Souls" which made me wonder how on earth their writing ever became classic and why they are taught in schools and why kids have to wade through oceans of words of such depressing nature as found in "Crime and Punishment" and other similar stories that Russian writers are so fond of writing, that they are mentally drowned after coming up for air at the end of a thousand sentences before succumbing. Having come to the end of this, I hope you will appreciate that I too had my tongue stuck well into my cheek.
Mon, February 26th, 2007 10:50pmGreat read, Haylie has been telling me to come and read this for ages, and now i have, I'm out of breath. Ha! I havn't read Tolstoy or Pushkin, but the name reminds me of Pushkas! That aside, really well written spoof, much enjoyed, I look forward to further offerings.
Sat, March 10th, 2007 3:11amDocScurlock,
I had fun reading your parody--Tolstoy, I assume--and like the Russians myself. What an odd comment by smallwriter, who comes close to being booted off the site!
He is right in one sense, the Russians are not an easy read, and nor are the French--I am wading through Proust right now and have just posted a short story about trying to read him.
I look forward to more parodies.
~brinsley
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Nick Dwyer
And, breathe...
Sun, February 25th, 2007 2:53amVery funny, very erudite, very obviously the playing with the form that a real writer can risk.
I've not read Tolstoy or Pushkin but I believe you have. I think I've learnt a little about the Great Russian Novel from your marvellous spoof here.
This is the sort of thing I came to Booksie to discover.
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Why, thank you. It's one way to spread the word.
Sun, February 25th, 2007 1:21pm