For the last few nights I have been reading Petropolis. I first came across Petropolis in The Metro –the free paper handed out in the mornings to those unfortunate enough to take Boston public transportation. At Sullivan square it is handed out by a short little man in a bright orange oversized bib and comical little hat. He calls out “Met-ro!” and holds open the door for the women with one too many bags for their own good.
He is defiantly the highlight of my commute.
Petropolis is hailed as “coming of age” story. I inherently dislike that phrase, but managed to over come my loathing because it is about a young girl, Sasha, who grows up in a little Russian town called Asbestos 2.
Sasha leaves Asbestos 2 and goes to America as a mail-order bride, she then leaves her fiancé, works as a maid, finds her father, and all has all sorts of not-quite-politically-correct misadventures. It is quite the story, it also offers a twisted/dark, but slightly comical, perspective on life in the U.S.S.R. and in the U.S.A.
Although the timeline gets a little muddled sometimes, it makes excellent bedtime reading. There are lots of nice stopping points and chapter breaks so it can easily be read over the course of a few evenings before bed. Very considerate,
