semi-autobiographical memoir/"creative nonfiction" - American spends 20 years in Russia, recounts pithy observations (read by author, for fairly authentic pronunciation) ( )

This book is great. I often had to laugh aloud while reading. [[Jennifer Eremeeva]] has the talent to describe her everyday life in Moscow in such a way that one feels in the middle of it and yet is grateful not to have to experience it one by one. She talks about marriages, life on dachas, the sheer madness on Moscow's streets, the sheer endless flow of alcohol and its effects, how to get a decent place to live, how to get in, how to get into better social circles and how the festivals are celebrated, etc. She bluntly writes what she experiences with her friends. It is written witty and you want it to never stop. ( )

Thanks to Goodreads First Reads for a copy of this book.

Creative non-fiction, you say, ey? Well, here comes the rollicking expat life of a bunch of well-to-do characters and their Russian friends in Moscow, complete with outrageous interior decor, vicious book clubs, and elitists attitudes. Eremeeva tells her rather embellished tales with a great sense of biting humor and does not forget to blend in Russian history and foodie interests along the way. The expats in question are all somewhat disgustingly well off (otherwise, they would be called immigrants, not expats!) and their life style is perhaps a bit too much brand-focused. They do vacation internationally often, and spend ridiculous amounts of money on good food and clothes inside and outside Russia. But the descriptions of the dynamics of foreignness and interactions of this foreign factor with the Russian element is where Eremeeva's prose excels. As an outsider, she captures the Russian view and attitudes very well, and her caricatures are spot on. As someone who is more on the inside than the outside, she also provides a very amusing account of how to navigate the Russian terrain with bravado and success (perhaps less so, when it comes to parking, but hey!)

Most importantly, although her idea of adding a whole chapter on LGBT (I would add the Q for good measure here; queer and questioning, two birds with one stone!) issues in Russia is shot down by her editor, Eremeeva successfully incorporates the queer element by telling many tales of Jesus (the Venezuelan interior designer) and his Russian hubby. Thank you, Mrs. Eremeeva! (Just to voice an opinion from a reader loud and clear, I would have loved a whole chapter on LGBTQ issues in Russia.)

Having read the book during the Sochi 2014 Olympics and the Russia-Ukraine showdown regarding Crimea, I can say that the book was extremely current and useful, especially in understanding the Putin factor that is aggressively making itself present in the international arena nowadays.

Now, several minor points that I need to point out, otherwise I will not sleep well tonight. First of all, Turkish hospitality will beat any Russian "hospitality" on any day of the year by a mile and more. But never mind that, Turkish food (and this is a simplification of the real nature of the cuisine, which can be called Ottoman-Turkish cuisine) is absolutely superior to any real or borrowed cuisine the Russians can call Russian food. So vacationing in Turkey, I must say, is one of the best things that can happen to Russians (something I sense Mrs. Eremeeva was not very grateful for. Perhaps, her income level is way above mine, so I have no idea what amazing vacations await in Cannes or Nice or [insert name of uber-expensive vacation spot for the billionaires of the world].)

There is one very important commonality, though, between Russians and Turks, it seems: glassing balconies! Oh, yes! And that whole chapter made me laugh out loud more than once. I do have one argument pro the glassed in balcony: in Turkey, any old Joe on a Sunday may decide to bring out his mangal and barbecue some sujuk on the balcony. He will do this clad in his long white underwear and wife-beater shirt, with a full chest of curly hair busting out and seriously threatening to catch on fire as he flips the sojuk over. This grizzly scene is usually prevented if the balcony is glassed in. So, one point in favor of the glassed-in balcony. (Now, there is a serious shortage of green spaces in urban areas in Turkey, especially in Istanbul, where almost 1/4th of the country lives, so just what one can do to prevent the mangal-toting, wife-beater-clad dude from barbecuing his sujuk on the green patches by the highway, I don't know...)

Typical for most Americans, Mrs. Eremeeva is oblivious about the visa application process for her own birth country (USA) and her frequent other home, Laaaaandon (London, UK). As a seasoned expert in visa applications for these countries and numerous others, I can tell you that the visa requirements for the Russian tourist visa are not out of the norm. In fact, they are very standard. You try to list ALL the foreign destinations you have traveled to and the dates for the last 10 years, and then provide last 6 months' paychecks and all your financial documents (tax returns, mortgages, investments, what color underwear you wear...) as well as a list of ANY friends you have in your destination (their citizenship status, address, phone number, what color underwear they wear...), and then we'll talk. The leprosy test? OK, that's weird! But not a part of the tourist visa application, I don't think.

And a question: So what were the Russians thinking, or were they thinking, when they played "Not gonna get us" by TATU (and I thought this was a recording, but I hear that they were indeed performing it live during the opening ceremonies) in Sochi 2014?! Are Russians aware that this became a huge gay anthem when it came out? That the only thing anyone remembers about the has-been TATU is the pseudo-lesbian scandal? I thought they should have also done "Gay Boy," and then that smirk-frown on Putin's face would have been just perfect!

Recommended for those who love mushrooms, Russian literature, bad burgers, and hate mosquitos, mayo, and enclosed balconies. ( )