The History of the Russian State series by Boris Akunin recently concluded with its final book on the reign of Nicholas II. However, the last part of the accompanying fiction cycle has yet to be released. The Road to Kitezh is the penultimate novel in this fictional series, which serves as “additional material” to the main historical narrative.
In these novels, Boris Akunin traces the life of a single family from pre-Varangian times—presumably up until the 1917 Revolution—while weaving in the historical events of each respective era around them. Sometimes it’s engaging, sometimes not so much. But in this particular book, The Road to Kitezh, the central figure of the titular dynasty, Adrian Lartsev, though portrayed as a highly unconventional individual with a deep passion for railroad construction that runs throughout the novel, is actually a secondary character this time. The true protagonist here is the State itself. Everything the characters do is for the benefit of this very State and its people. The entire struggle is fought for a better future, which different forces interpret in their own way.
Perhaps this is one of the few novels that truly depict the era it serves as a “companion” to. It covers a rather extensive period—from the final days of Nicholas I’s reign, through the entire rule of Alexander II, and ending with the early years of Alexander III’s reign, spanning from 1854 to 1881.
The novel features several main characters who start out as young idealists determined to change Russia for the better, but as time passes, their paths to achieving this goal diverge dramatically—only to keep crossing again and again, leading to an outcome that is entirely fitting for that historical period.
However, as a standalone work, the novel reads somewhat tediously because it lacks a unified storyline. In a single book, Boris Akunin attempts to portray the reigns of three rulers. Yes, the same characters remain throughout, and even well-known historical figures such as Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky, Helena Blavatsky, and others make appearances.
Yet, the book often feels more like a discussion of ideas and ideological currents that were prevalent in the minds of intellectuals and within state politics at the time. The characters don’t so much tell an engaging story as they serve as mouthpieces for conveying thoughts that didn’t fit into Akunin’s non-fiction work on this era. It feels as though he is using them to reinforce his ideas and views expressed in that book—at times even giving Dostoevsky himself a voice.
It is interesting to see the key figures of that period through the lens of a fictionalized, more humanized portrayal. However, each of them is given only a small share of space in the narrative, making it difficult to develop them fully, in my opinion. As a result, the reader ends up turning to Wikipedia once again to learn more. In a way, this is commendable—it means we gain a better understanding of history. But it also makes the book feel somewhat superficial. The language is beautiful, but it’s not the same Akunin who once made me binge-read nearly ten books in a row.
Moreover, the events of the novel already intersect with Akunin’s most famous series about Erast Fandorin (the first novel in that series takes place in 1876). And Adrian Lartsev, the representative of the dynasty at the heart of this cycle, bears a striking resemblance in character and behavior to the older Erast Petrovich—who, incidentally, also studied engineering in America, specializing in moving machinery, while Adrian is a fervent railway enthusiast who studied in the U.S. and was part of the top management of railroad companies.
Initially, I rated the book quite averagely, but by the end, my opinion shifted for the better. The author does succeed in showing how and why the views of many influential figures evolved—and how history might have taken a different turn had chance favored the other side at a crucial moment.
My rating: 4/5
