Lizka, the protagonist, is the progressively disillusioned daughter of a small town prostitute. Following the embarrassment and disappointment of her first sexual encounter, she travels to the city of ‘G’ in the conventional, yet confused attempt to find something more meaningful. The bulk of the novel follows Lizka as she moves through a number of lifestyles and, almost consequently, a number of men. Scammed, abused and ignored, she is eventually trapped in her own shell, unwilling to embrace her final saviour.

The story itself seems to lack any main narrative arc; instead consisting of a series of ‘episodes’ separated into chapters. Rather than conform to the traditional model of crisis and resolution, Ikonnikov has chosen effectively to display the attitude of despair within society by using this series of seemingly disconnected events and lovers. Fortunately, unlike some novels which attempt to take on this spontaneous structure, each miniature arc serves its purpose and effectively helps to weave the complex tapestry of Lizka’s character.

As is obvious from the title, each male character Lizka encounters has a deep significance, and one would be forgiven for believing that Ikonnikov is a passionate misandrist. Her men can be interpreted as both a commentary of the political climate and a criticism of the female condition: each new lover embodies everything from the con artist to the corrupt politician and each one seems to close off yet another section of her original naïve character.

Mirroring the plot perfectly, Ikonnikov’s style is truly fitting. He manages to swing the audience from a bird’s eye view to inches from the action in a few sentences, while preserving an almost offensively blunt descriptive style. While initially I found myself emotionally distant and frankly unresponsive as a result of this style, as the narrative progressed and more explicit events unravelled themselves with the same cold, clipped, description, I felt compelled to read on, even though my imagination seemed to be doing most of the work.

At the conclusion of the novel, Lizka unknowingly stumbles into her hero and the book closes as he endeavours to break through her emotional armour. I have to admit this is, in my opinion, incredibly unfortunate. I get the impression that rather than stick to his guns finish the book in the same delicately pessimistic tone, he felt compelled to tack on the happy ending.

Becky Sayers is a Debating Matters alumna.