It’s hard to believe that this book is almost a hundred years old! Yet, you don’t really feel that in the emotions of the characters. Sure, there’s a slight sense of “old-fashionedness,” that these are clearly not modern kids, but overall, you only remind yourself that it’s a century-old book.
To start from the beginning: I had wanted to read this book for a long time. My parents had traded scrap paper for it back in Soviet times, but I first saw the movie based on the book. I enjoyed the film. That’s when I decided that I should read the original. However, it took me almost twenty years to finally do it.
Even so, I was hesitant to begin. You know how some books seem to have their own right time? What you enjoyed 10-15 years ago might now, upon rereading, feel dull or even disappointing. That’s exactly what I was afraid of—that this book might resonate perfectly with teenagers but wouldn’t hit the same way in adulthood.
At first, the early chapters seemed to confirm my fear. The language felt either clumsy or too simplistic, as if written by people who really wanted to write but didn’t quite know how.
But the further I got, the more engrossed I became. That distinctive style began to add an extra charm to the narrative. By the midpoint, the story had completely captured my attention and didn’t let go until the very end.
The entire story spans a few years in the life of a closed boarding school for homeless children, former thieves, and hooligans, told from the perspective of the graduates themselves—the students of the Fyodor Dostoevsky School (FeDoSh). The authors don’t hide the fact that they are those very same students, keeping their real names in the story (though L. Panteleev is a pseudonym, but they still named the corresponding character in the book Lyonka Panteleev).
At times, it seems like many of their adventures are somewhat embellished or even fictionalized. That might be true to some extent, but overall, the authors are telling their real stories. This makes the book even more compelling because you’re seeing the early years of the Soviet Republic through the eyes of real and talented storytellers. And you realize that this is how it truly was.
In addition to the main story, the book includes a series of FeDoSh stories that complement the main narrative, offering a slightly different perspective at times and revealing more about some characters.
Compared to the film, the movie is loosely based on the book. Some stories are almost directly adapted, others are omitted, and some things seem to have been added. For instance, Mamochka (Little Mommy), one of the main characters in the film, is present in the original but portrayed quite differently. The on-screen Mamochka is a composite of several book characters. However, these differences don’t detract from the story. The film is good on its own, and the book offers a more honest and detailed account of the events in the school. And Vikniksor, the head of the school, earned my respect through his actions and attitude. He’s an excellent example of a leader, whether of a school or a business. A few episodes clearly show that there was much to learn from him.
One chapter, in particular, stands out: the one about the FeDoSh students’ obsession with writing and publishing their own work. It’s reminiscent of modern self-publishing. But the real twist is that two of those students succeeded, which is why we know their story today.
At the beginning, I thought this wasn’t for me and that I’d abandon it. But after finishing it, I realized I really enjoyed the book. It’s not the masterpiece of all time, but I got a lot of pleasure from it. Even after waiting twenty years to finally read it, I wasn’t disappointed.
