I happened to see the book “Diary of a Domovoi” in someone’s feed, filled with a lot of praise, and it had even been reissued several times under the slogan “a new discovery of Runet.” And just at that time, I was in the mood for something light and non-demanding.
So imagine my surprise when, even before I started reading, a couple of days later, my wife suddenly began quoting from the same book. Apparently, she came across it at the same time from one of our friends. How could I resist picking it up and reading it myself?
The particular edition I chose is one of the most comprehensive, arranged in the order recommended by the author himself on his LiveJournal.
“Diary of a Domovoi” began as notes by the author from the perspective of a Domovoi, who suddenly decided to meticulously record what he did every day in the house he was entrusted with, along with all its inhabitants. And there are more and more of them over time.
At first, the Domovoi lives only with the Mistress and the cat, with whom he seems to have a friendly relationship, although he constantly tries to get the cat into trouble (fortunately, the cat is not particularly bright). Then, a small dog and the Mistress’s lover join the household. The Mistress’s mother also makes an appearance. After the entire family moves into a separate house, some local residents show up, including a priest, a partisan ghost, equally ghostly fascists, and residents of the protected forest.
The notes themselves are very short. The Domovoi usually describes each day in just a couple of paragraphs. What makes them appealing is the decent humor, mostly built on rephrasing famous quotes from books and movies or inserting allusions to contemporary events (contemporary at the time of writing, of course).
The Domovoi teases the somewhat dim-witted cat, the small dog named Hulk constantly engages in high-minded Buddhist conversations and frequently ascends to Nirvana (that is, dies), from which it is repeatedly dragged back. In the astral plane, Wasserman dwells with his pockets, in the forest, the old partisan ghost drills ghostly fascists, and the priest enters into mutually beneficial trade relations with the Domovoi. The Mistress’s mother constantly devours everything within reach, and the Mistress’s lover is simply unlucky to have married the Mistress, which is why he earns the disdain of all the supernatural beings. To complete the picture, a communist cockroach named Anton lives under the fridge, and a drug-addicted rabbit resides in the forest.
I didn’t laugh out loud, to be honest, but it is charming, brings a smile, and you can sense the author’s well-read and well-watched background. However, as the story progresses, it becomes increasingly noticeable that the author struggles more with the jokes; some are just repeated, some become entirely unfunny, as if they’re forced.
If you follow the author’s recommendations, the reading of the diaries should be interspersed with short stories. These stories have nothing to do with the diary itself, and the events described in the stories are only mentioned in passing in the Domovoi’s diary.
But the biggest problem with these stories is that they starkly differ in style from the diaries themselves. A few paragraphs of supposed direct speech might work as a joke, but when it comes to prose, the author just doesn’t have the knack for it. My wife actually abandoned the first story and continued reading only the diaries, while I bravely read everything.
So what’s wrong with the prose? First, the author’s lack of professionalism becomes immediately apparent. I’m sorry to criticize, but I once went through a similar phase myself (though my books were never published in large editions). But now I can see how different amateurish language is from the text of a good writer. The author fails to produce beautiful prose, so he turns most of the stories into dialogues, which are clearly easier for him.
Second, the issues within the stories themselves. You can’t just rely on one or two jokes here; by the rules of the genre, there needs to be a problem, a conflict, and a resolution. But the problem seems contrived and overly artificial. Moreover, its resolution raises more questions than the conflict itself.
And third, the dialogues. Yes, direct speech works better, but as soon as a character needs to express a thought longer than a couple of lines, or, heaven forbid, give a speech, it all turns into horribly pompous rally speeches with lots of grand words but no substance behind them.
This is the case with almost all the prose “inserts.” The only slight exception I can mention is the last story in the collection—”The Chronicles of Zakraysvet.” It has nothing to do with the Domovoi cycle, but in it, the author managed to find an interesting problem and a non-standard perspective on it. The writing still lacks lightness, but at least it’s not the “hurrah-patriotism” of fairy tale heroes. In this story, the author tries to look at a world where people are genuinely honest and don’t engage in nonsense. Unfortunately, he still falls into pathos at the end, which, in my opinion, ruins the story. But at least it was interesting to read, unlike the others.
In addition to the Domovoi’s diary, the book includes mini-diaries of several other characters in the cycle, including a Mermaid. But these are not just secondary, they’re tertiary.
So what’s the verdict? The beginning is very lively and charming—about 20-25% of the book. After that, I mostly kept reading out of inertia before bed when I just wanted to unwind.
I’m unlikely to recommend it, although the first diaries are quite worth attention. But as soon as you start getting bored, stop immediately; it won’t get any better.
My rating: 2.5/5 (this is for the entire book, including the short stories).
