Each 18 September, in the Ukrainian city of Lvov, a handful of ex-hippies, or rather surviving hippies (once a hippy always a hippy) gather in the small hours at a disused cemetery where, they believe, is buried the hand of one of their musical icons, Jimi Hendrix. Alik is a regular, but this year (2011) there is a new face, who reveals himself as Captain Ryabtsev, ex-KGB officer, or maybe that too should be surviving KGB officer. Ryabtsev used to monitor dissidents such as Alik, but secretly he admired their lifestyle and now wants to befriend Alik and make amends.
As the two of them leave the cemetery, Alik is clipped by an erratically driven old Opel. Thus, we are introduced to the other main character, Taras. His driving style is deliberate. After dropping out of medical school he now operates an unconventional therapy – the shaking loose of kidney stones and their forced expulsion by micturition, all brought about by drinking cognac and being driven at speed over the cobbled streets of Lvov. At night, obviously!
More characters are introduced including Alik’s neighbour Yezhi, and his actress friend, Oksana. Taras, whose fees are paid in cash and in a variety of currencies, frequents a 24-hour exchange booth in the city, where he falls for the pretty cashier, Darka.
So far, so Kurkov. Then more so. Something is amiss in Lvov. Anomalous for a landlocked city six hundred kilometres from open water, there is occasionally a salty taste in the air, a smell of rotting seaweed. Seagulls gather, caw, swoop. One of them even attacks Oksana’s aquarium. Alik and Ryabtsev decide to investigate.
Combining wackiness with precise prose, Kurkov convincingly paints lives lived on the periphery of Lvov society. Strangely compulsive, the activities of Alik, Ryabtsev, Taras, and Darka would hold the interest even without the narrative hook of discovering the source of the seaside anomalies. There is a resolution on that, but the grave of the Jimi Hendrix hand remains a mystery.
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