Fiction Reviews
Monday Starts on Saturday
(1964 / 2016) Arkady & Boris Strugatsky, Gollancz, £12.99, pbk, xii + 243pp, ISBN 978-1-473-20221-4
(Translated by Leonid Renen)
Published as part of the Gollancz SF Masterworks series, this Russian science fiction novel was added to the list in 2016. It was originally published in Russia in 1965.
And it is an intriguing, if rather odd, read.
The book is split into three parts. Written in the second person, the first part introduces the idea that there is scientific study into magic, when young programmer Alexander Ivanovich Privalov (usually named Sasha) picks up two hitchhikers while driving in Karelia. It appears as if by accident (although I suspect not) he is persuaded to work for the National Institute for the Technology of Witchcraft and Thaumaturgy (NITWITT).
The middle of the book is the longest and deals with the workings of the Institute itself. Now written as if by Sasha, it is about what happens when he is given night patrol duties around the Institute on New Year's Eve. Really, this plot device seems to be an attempt to show the reader around the Institute and meet some of the oddball people that work there.
There are lots of ideas thrown around here and the writers seem to be having considerable fun, but for me it just felt a little too manic. I did like the fact that the book seemed to revel in madcap ideas. It is an explosion of ‘what-if’s’, throwing them out and then seeing how characters deal with the situations, although there is lots of scientific tech-talk which may have been real or totally made-up, which truly lost me a little.
The third section deals mainly with two stories; firstly, a satire (or what I think is meant to be satire) about how the Institute writes its newsletter and, secondly, a convoluted event that involves a small green parrot in such a way that it makes the film Tenet seem straightforward, although it is related to the book’s title.
Do details become lost in translation? A little. Generally, the book made me feel that Russian science fiction (and Russians!) is very different to my usual reading material. The names took some getting used to and I did find them by and large hard to remember.
Generally, in terms of character, they appeared to cover a range of extremes – often dour and bad-tempered, squabbling over what may appear to be minor issues, or silly and immature.
Having said that, there was a joy in reading about scientists obsessed with discovery, a world where capitalism and profit may not be the prime motivators for change. Instead of creating things for maximum profit, as many capitalist SF mega-businesses seem to do, there was a pleasing emphasis on trying to solve (often insolvable) puzzles.
As uplifting as that was, at the same time, frankly, there were times when reading it was a slog. Some of the ongoing debates that filled the latter part of the book did feel a little laboured. There are lengthy and complex scientific descriptions and intellectual debates that felt a little unnecessary.
Similarly, some of the historical references made here may have been relevant in the 1960’s but are harder to place from the perspective of 2026. There’s mention of Nixon and Goldwater, for example, and mention of drainpipe trousers – there’s even an oblique hint at a connection to the film The Man in the White Suit (1951), which may have been part of the zeitgeist in 1965, but readers in the 2020’s may just scratch their heads.
In the same way, some of the cultural folk references may be a little lost to modern readers. The: mention of a Baba Yaga creature from folklore, and a talking cat (that I thought was related to Lewis Carroll’s work, but I understand may actually be an homage to Pushkin’s Ruslan and Ludmila), may have been amusing sixty-odd years ago, but may be lost on today’s readership.
I’m always aware that humour can work in different ways – what is hilarious to one reader may leave another cold, for example. I must admit that it’s not Monday Starts on Saturday as written by, say, Terry Pratchett or Douglas Adams. But I did get the feeling that a lot of what I was reading should have been funny when it just left me bemused. Was this meant to be parody? Perhaps, but to me at times it just felt unpleasant.
Monday Starts on Saturday was an interesting read and I was grateful to read a novel with a different perspective from the usual. However, it would have been a book I would have put down and left had it not been due to the fact I needed to write a review for it. It is clear that there’s intelligent writing here, but the humour left me cold. Nevertheless, it has persuaded me to try some more of their work, if only to see how different it is (or isn’t.) You never know, that new translation of Roadside Picnic might even be added to my reading list…
Mark Yon
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