What an extraordinary book this is. Think Bulgakov combined with the Asimov of 'Asimov’s Mysteries' meets Wallace Shawn. It’s a wholly sustained SF novel set exclusively in an apartment. That description of course belies its scope and ambition. The very informative Afterword by Boris Strugatsky describes the first idea for the book as ‘“Faust, 20th century.” Hell and Heaven try to stop the development of science.’ Perfect. They carry it off. ( )

Something is keeping leading scientists from getting any work done, threatening the future of scientific progress.

Is it a meddling alien civilization, intent on keeping the human race from ascendancy?

Is it an unyielding law of conservation, preserving order in an uncaring universe?

Is it an Era of Stagnation in a poorly-planned socialist economy?


This is an enjoyable little book, intent more on the human reaction to the ongoing interference than on its actual cause. One can even glimpse the novel's inspiration behind the mysterious events: an author, constantly distracted and interrupted by neighbors, friends, spouses, the telephone, the doorbell, and the relentless heat, wonders what it would be like if these were all part of a concerted effort, and what would that mean for the individual and for humanity.

N.B.: The title in Russian is apparently "One Billion Years Before the End of the World" (or Universe), which is drawn directly from the text, but which is somehow less evocative of its themes than the English edition title "Definitely Maybe". ( )

Completely bizarre...so just like Roadside Picnic, then...except, no, bizarre in a totally different way...
I feel a bit dense because it took until near the end for me to figure out what the allegorical/satirical point behind it all was. Having done so, I'm surprised it got published at all in the USSR.

Also, does that darned integral equal zero or not?! ( )

W zasadzie to niedługa nowelka, oparta na jednym pomyśle, z niemalże teatralną akcją - dwa mieszkania, kilka osób, a cała fabuła to wyłącznie rozmowy. Na szczęście rozmowy napisane na tyle sprawnie, że absolutnie nie nudzą. Bardzo rosyjska w detalach, napisana z humorem, nieco groteskowym rysem w nakreśleniu postaci. Przyjemna lektura na jeden wieczór.
Główna zagwozdka wraz z sugerowanym wyjaśnieniem jest na tyle ciekawa, by po odłożeniu lektury zastanowić się nad nią przez resztę wieczoru, ale nie na tyle, by nie dała później zasnąć.
Przyjemne SF, nie głupie, nie przełomowe. ( )

This book had been on my TBR for a long while. The back cover claims the Strugatsky brothers were the greatest science fiction writers of the Soviet era, so I was a little embarrassed to have not read them yet. Once I picked it up, I read the whole thing over my birthday weekend.

It starts out as almost a comedy of errors. Malianov, an astrophysicist, is on the brink of a breakthrough, but every time he sits down to work on his paper, a bigger and more demanding distraction interrupts him -- from wrong numbers to a surprise food delivery to neighbors dropping by to a criminal investigation. It starts to get suspicious when the friends drop in, who also have strange tales of interruptions and roadblocks sidetracking them from taking on bold new work. Things rapidly progress to competing conspiracy theories and alien vs. governmental control, and strong disagreements on whether it is safe, or if there is even a point to resist.

The story is very Soviet in nature and also sometimes Kafka-esque. There ends up being some meditating on the ties that bind -- those who have wives (of course only wives in this story, there are no female or LGBTQ scientists or engineers) and children and those who don't -- and how that impacts who has the luxury of both resistance and also dedicating themselves to research.

Messy, sometimes madcap, sometimes sinister. Always interesting. ( )