A Foil Ring

We all know that our memory is very selective. “It’s like cigarette paper. It wrinkles, here and there, forming creases and folds—erasing the things we need and value, and keeping the hurtful, the hard.” That’s why the same events are remembered differently by different people.

The heroine of this book recalls her childhood, the people who surrounded her, funny and tragic events, stories and anecdotes from the life of a small Ossetian village where she lived. Her mother remembered the same events completely differently, because for her they aren’t warm memories of a carefree childhood, but a story of how she was driven out of her home—about the people who treated her cruelly and unfairly. You, reading, will also alternate between laughing and feeling sad. And you will certainly think: what have you permanently pushed out of your own memory—and was it worth doing so?