It’s fairly obvious by now to anyone who’s made even a casual glance at the Ramblings that I love classic crime fiction and also love Russian/Soviet literature. So when Pushkin Press contacted me and asked if I’d like a review copy of a new title which fitted both categories, it was kind of a given that I would say yes! The book is “Punishment of a Hunter” by Yulia Yakovleva, translated by Ruth Ahmedzai Kemp, and it’s billed as ‘A Leningrad Confidential’ – which I really hope means that there will be further volumes in the series!

Yakovleva is a writer, theatre and ballet critic, and playwright, plus has also written a series of books for children; I believe “Punishment..” is her first adult novel, and it makes gripping and entertaining reading. The cover lauds the book as “the most successful retro-detective since Akunin” and that’s an interesting comparison to make. Boris Akunin is best known for his long series of Erast Fandorin crime novels, the majority of which are set pre-revolution, and I can’t say that I particular gelled with them. However, “Punishment…” is set in a very different world, that of 1930s Leningrad (St. Petersburg); and although there are more similarities between the Tsarist and Soviet regimes, the era portrayed by Yakovleva is a harsh and frightening one which she captures quite brilliantly.

Our sleuth is a Leningrad policeman, Investigator Vasily Zaitsev. He and his team are called to a murder of a very ordinary female Soviet citizen; however, something about the crime scene strikes Zaitsev as wrong. The victim is dressed strangely and posed, almost as if in a stage set; and there seems to be no obvious motive or suspects. However, before Zaitsev can get down to properly investigating the case, there is the small matter of purges in the police service…

The tram led him through this beautiful city where for the most part people lived a poor, dreary, unkempt life. Squabbling in their communal kitchens, struggling admid the chaos and stench of life to rest from the tedium and exhaustion of work, with hours on end idled away queuing for horrible foodstuffs grandly described as “nutritious products”, painfully squirrelling away enough for a pair of shoes or a suit for special occasions, paying off government loans from their meagre salaries, struggling to stay awake through endless party meetings. But you wouldn’t know all that from the Leningrad morning with the sun sparkling on the spires and in the windows.

Crucial to the setting of the book is the fact that the events take place in 1930 and 1931, a terrifying period in Soviet history when even having a relative who was a bit middle-class could see you purged and dragged off for interrogation by the OGPU (Secret Police). Zaitsev claims a completely proletarian background, but his actions to intervene on behalf of a colleague see him hauled in, tortured and imprisoned (fortunately much of this is offscreen…) Nevertheless, a second strange murder finds him released, as it seems he can be useful to the authorities in trying to solve the puzzle, particularly as these killings have taken place in a park which is about to be developed as a piece of Soviet propaganda.

The case will not be easy to solve, however, as not only does Zaitsev have to deal with the authorities watching him at all time, he also has a potential OGPU spy in the ranks and his colleagues no longer trust him after his arrest and release. Despite the possibility of a burgeoning romance, Zaitsev is very much a man on his own – possibly the safest way to be in 1930s Russia.

Here I’ll pause my mention of specifics because the plot is a really complex and fascinating one, which is gradually revealed as the book goes on and there’s a particular element which doesn’t develop until relatively late on; and it’s mentioned on the blurb and the back of the book, although in some ways I wish I hadn’t known about this in advance, although it *does* draw on piece of real Soviet history which is a bit of an eye-opener! Suffice to say, there are museums and art galleries involved, and the plot will end up being much larger and stranger than the reader (and Zaitsev!) would expect from the opening of the book!

Leningrad in 1935 (Municipal Archives of Trondheim, CC BY 2.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0&gt;, via Wikimedia Commons)

“Punishment…” is quite long for a crime novel – 398 pages in my ARC version – yet it never drags for a minute. I have to say that, from what I’ve read about this particular Soviet period, Yakovleva seems to conjure the era quite brilliantly. The seediness and the poverty and the housing crisis and the primus stoves are all in there, and more darkly, the inability to trust anyone. That divide and conquer mentality from above, the fear and the control of the authorities, is vividly portayed, and Zaitsev negotiates it cleverly. He’s an excellent protagonist; slightly mysterious, with hints that his background is not all it seems, very human, and both determined and dogged in his pursuit of those behind the murders. He finds an unexpected ally to act as his Watson, and their interplay is wonderfully portrayed. The action builds to an exciting climax, and interestingly I felt that, much like Soviet society itself, the author left a lot unsaid…

As well as the central characters, there are an excellent supporting cast, from Zaitsev’s landlady Pasha, through Alla (his love interest) and Nefyodov, who is something of a mystery. The Soviet functionaries, from museum and art gallery staff to post office workers are very convincing, and Zaitsev’s team are an entertaining bunch – I really felt his pain at being excluded from their group.

And of course there are the cities themselves. Peter (as they all still refer to Leningrad), the former capital of Russia, is now regarded as something of a backwater – a situation made clear on Zaitsev’s fleeting visits to the new capital, Moscow, a place whose tentacles seem to extend everywhere. Yakovleva captures both vividly, and despite the terrors involved, I did find myself wishing for a time machine to pop back and just have a look…

So “Punishment of a Hunter” did turn out to be the perfect book for me! Each chapter has little illustrations (the meaning of which will become clear as you read through), and the translation reads seamlessly for me. I actually had a question mark pop into my head early on in the book, when Zaitsev likened model trees and foliage to broccoli! I wondered whether this was in the original, and whether broccoli was common in the Russia of the time; and translator Ruth Ahmedzai Kemp was kind enough to clarify on Twitter that it *was* in the original, and other Tweeps explored the topic with me. All very interesting, and there is definitely more to Zaitsev than might seem obvious…

As I mentioned, this is the first Zaitsev title and I found it fascinating and thoroughly absorbing – in fact, I couldn’t put it down towards the end. It’s an atmospheric, thrilling and thoroughly original book. I seriously hope that there are more ‘Leningrad Confidentials’ in the pipeline, because on the strength of this book, I could really become an addict! 😀