The book “The Dance of Moths Over Dry Land” was written not over one or two years, but almost for an entire lifetime—thirty years, when the writer collected, as if they were treasures, and stored in the memory-chest astonishing, strange, funny, and sad cases from her own life—and, it turns out, ours too. And now this book is in front of you, like a butterfly from Amazonia heading out on a flight; its pages are its wings, adorned with a whimsical pattern of parables, anecdotes, and episodes. This book is the twin of Dovlatov’s “Solitude on Underwood” and the sister of Kharms’s “Cases”—created not only by the writer Moskvinа, but by life itself with all its absurdity, strangeness, and cheerful sadness.