Senchin entered literature after “funeral rites for Soviet prose.” And he proved that Russian literature is alive.
Senchin’s new book “Moscow Shadows” is a chronicle of the lives of Muscovites whose destinies intertwine in the strangest and most bizarre way. It’s a story about those who will never take out a loan, never go abroad, never buy a “Bentley,” never check that shaving with a “Gillette” is better than an ordinary razor.
These people are only “shadows” in the world of the rich and successful. There are millions of them, but only millions can become a portrait of the present—without embellishment and glamor, but with faith in kitchen gatherings and football.