Holder of S. Ya. Nadson medal «For Personal Contribution to the Development of Russian
Culture and Literature», «65 Years of ISP», Vladimir Nabokov medal «For Contribution to Foreign Literature», Boris and Gleb medal «For Sincerity in Literature» and the commemorative medal «220 Years to A. S. Pushkin».
She took 1st place in the Innocent Annensky Poetry Competition on the 34th International Festival «Aelita» (2017).
Awarded with the 3rd place in Marina Tsvetaeva Poetry Competition on RosCon festival (2017).
Marked with V. Belinsky Special Prize at the RosCon Fiction Festival (2019).
Author of 8 books and 50 collections published in 2011–2019.
Awarded with more than 70 diplomas, gratitudes and certificated from numerous contests and festivals.
This book was published thanks to my wonderful friends who live in Minneapolis-Saint Paul, Minnesota, USA.
Lilia Burleva, Jan Alboszta, I love you!
Introduction
I like novels like this one. Honest and open, like a conversation with a best friend. Maybe not the best, but the one ready to listen to you, which I think means a lot. The female lead character understands everything about herself, and doesn't even try to deceive herself anymore. She adds a little truth, a little bit of humor and completes the dish of her life with an interesting story. Only a woman who is honest with herself can talk about herself like this: «But I have nothing. Rather, I need everything. I have no apartment, no car, no summer house, no husband. Not even a dog. Oh yes… I have a dorm room. Six meters. From the threshold you can immediately collapse onto the sofa.»
It all begins with a letter from the unknown D. Frost, sent from America to Siberia. That's an intrigue! But then the letter story is forgotten, and the girl is waiting for her trip to the sea and Dubrovnik, she finds… a corpse at the door of her dormitory. What an amazing pun: «This stranger was the first dead man I saw…»
I'm very excited to tell you, reader, the whole plot of this first-class novel. It's very name, «Very Bad English», is worth mentioning. But we won't. We will not steal your hours of pleasure from «bathing» in a light, lively and alluring text. We can only add that if you are a fan of diary entries, you will come off to the fullest. Dates, nuances, small details and observations, open emotions are in the notes of the main character's sister. They sound like a separate song.
The author is very good at grasping reality and transferring to paper, conveying the mood and exposing women's internal dialogues. What is the other woman thinking? It's a mystery Yana Varshavskaya solved.
The works of Yana Varshavskaya, both prosaic and poetic, retain a special atmosphere of mystery.
The novel «Very Bad English», which is defined as «female mystery,» is a narrative «about intricacies and unexpected turns of Fate…»
The roots of the plot can be found long before the beginning of the story. Two sisters, twins, were separated: their parents divorced, and their mother took one of the daughters with her. Their further fate destroys all accepted stereotypes about twins: they should have certainly become similar, choose the same life path, but this does not happen. On the contrary, they are contrasting, although this does not interfere with sisterly love.
The other twins are Dormidont, nicknamed Doremi, and Donald Frost. They are separated by oceans, borders and many other things… Fate seems to play with them: they meet in an Internet program, then, not allowed to speak or contact each other, they are immediately tear apart when the electricity is off.
At the same time, fate creates a different chain of coincidences, oddities, mystical events or simple surprises. The magic of numbers, the magic of general books, the magic of words – as if all the secret forces of the other world set the goal of connecting two pairs. They are led to each other to meet the «inexplicable secret», «the whisper of the Lord». Led to a happy ending and pairing.
However, «the two most important threads have remained unconnected. Doni Frost and Dorian Cooper… No one was embarrassed by the fact that young people are so alike and were born on the same day!» It seems to be a shadow overshadowing happiness. However, if you think about it, this means only one thing: the book of life has not yet been completed and, perhaps, another story will serve as a continuation.
Part I
Taska
He was still alive when I came in. The man was lying on the floor. His eyes turned to the sky were open. In fact, the sky was replaced by the high ceiling of our five-story dormitory.
Perhaps this was some last impulse… He extended his hand to me and said:
«Now the thread is broken!» His hand trembled, and he somehow immediately changed his face, as if petrified.
I stood right at the door, unable to move. This stranger was the first dead man I've ever seen…
Prologue
It's a dull weekend morning.
I have no need to wake up early today to walk to the university.
Actually, I love to walk. This is one of the few things I really love. I cross familiar streets, adjusting myself and getting used to the idea that I will hardly be able to change anything in this city. After all, there is nothing more boring than the work of an engineer. Well, let me clarify… An engineer of a laboratory.
For three or four years studying at university was a joy to me.
But it was a long time ago. I quickly got used to it and got bored. Now I'm thirty. Actually, a little more… The work now does not cause a faintest reflection of former polar sensations. No fear, no love. Although now I am a leading engineer, I'm still a leading engineer of a laboratory.
I'm thirty. All right! A little more. It's easier to list what I have than what I don't… I don't have anything. Or rather I need everything. I have no apartment, no car, no summer house, no husband. Not even a dog.
Oh yes…
I have a six-meter dorm room. You can immediately fall into the sofa once you enter. There is also a round aquarium with two black telescope carps and three goldfish, measuredly going nowhere. It seems that there is no limit to their indignation… Whenever I look in the direction of the aquarium, I see huge eyes and hear incessant conversations. How much more can they chat? Well, at least fish don't have a voice. So let them chat!
The aquarium has been decorating my home for five years and has replaced the sketchbook easel with aluminum legs, which is now assembled and occupies all the free space between the large tall wardrobe and the wall. The long easel straps occasionally catch my eye, but…
Evening art school is over. Period. No more sketches, no monotypes and drafts. Nothing. I turned this page.
Fish got hungry in the morning, so they swam to the walls of their glass shelter to demand food and, as it seemed to me, promise to fulfill any of my wishes. I automatically opened a box with dry larvae…
«Try to surprise me,» I said, crushing the food over the water.
Going down to the ground floor, I asked for mail with no hope in my voice.
«Just a letter, Tanya. But what a letter!» The duty watchman exclaimed, handing me a weighty A4 envelope.
«Well, well…» I thought, «You did surprise me!»
There were stamps in the upper right corner, just like expected. Remarkable stamps with large yellow flowers and the words: «I LOVE YOU!»
Trembling from emotions suddenly surging, I opened the letter, very carefully, not yet fully believing that it was addressed