When a whole library has already been written about Vygotsky (though mostly by his colleagues and, in a way, about him as a colleague), is it possible, against that backdrop, to say something of your own—not borrowed—and even to someone who isn’t a specialist, not a psychologist? I think the author managed it, because in this situation he chose the only right move: to walk the path of his hero independently, step by step, bringing readers not only through all the twists of his fate, but—most importantly—through the movement of his thoughts as well. And the result is the first, apparently, attempt at a fictionalized artistic biography of a great psychologist.