Home > Work > Death and the Penguin
1 " Lass uns trinken, auf dass es uns nicht schlechter gehe. Besser ging's uns ja schon mal. "
― Andrey Kurkov , Death and the Penguin
2 " The past believed in dates. And everyone’s life consisted of dates, giving life a rhythm and sense of gradation, as if from the eminence of a date one could look back and down, and see the past itself. A clear, comprehensible past, divided up into squares of events, lines of paths taken. "
3 " Life was a road, and if departed from at a tangent, the longer for it. And a long road was a long life - a case where to travel was better than to arrive, the point of arrival being, after all, always the same: death. "
4 " Longevity depended on peace. Peace was the source of self-assurance, and self-assurance allowed one to cleanse one's life of needless upsets, twists and turns. Self-assurance allowed one to take decisions for the prolonging of one's life. Self-assurance led to the future. "
5 " The once terrible was now commonplace, meaning that people accepted it as the norm and went on living, instead of getting needlessly agitated. "
6 " The full story is what you get told only if and when your work, and with it your existence, are no longer required. "
7 " No matter," said the old man hoarsely. "Means you're still alive if it hurts. "
8 " But I can do it,” she said, sitting down on the carpet again. “It's just that I'm heavier after breakfast. "
9 " To every time, its own normality. "
10 " Women are the strength of the male nervous system. Time you took your nerves in hand … Still, just my little joke. "
11 " Odd times to be a child in. An odd country, an odd life which he had no desire to make sense of. To endure, full stop, that was all he wanted. "
12 " Misha had appeared chez Viktor a year before, when the zoo was giving hungry animals away to anyone able to feed them. Viktor had gone along and returned with a king penguin. Abandoned by his girlfriend the week before, he had been feeling lonely. But Misha had brought his own kind of loneliness, and the result was now two complementary lonelinesses, creating an impression more of interdependence than of amity. "
13 " Wait,” she said, suddenly stopping. “What if Grandfather Frost comes and there’s no tree, where will he put his presents?” He was at a loss. No sensible answer suggested itself. He felt infinitely weary. “Perhaps we should paint a fir tree on the wall to tell him where,” said Sonya, pondering the matter aloud. “Got any green paint?” “No,” said Viktor. “I know what – we’ll leave a note in the kitchen saying put them on the table.” Sonya thought. “Under is better.” “Why?” “So nobody sees. "
14 " He sat with his cup of tea at the kitchen table. On the window ledge beside him stood the two bottles of cherry brandy, one half empty, the other full. Romantic thoughts stirred in the silence, touching again on unwritten novels and the past. He suddenly had the sensation of being abroad, out of reach of yesterday’s existence. This abroad was a place of tranquillity, a Switzerland of the soul blanketed in snows of peace, permeated with a dread of causing disturbance; where no bird sang or called, as if out of no desire to. "
15 " Your interest lies in not asking questions,” he said quietly. “Think what you like. But bear in mind this: the moment you are told what the point of your work is, you’re dead. This isn’t a film, it’s for real. The full story is what you get told only if and when your work, and with it your existence, are no longer required.” He smiled a sad smile. “Still, I do, in fact, wish you well. Believe me. "
16 " Drink up!" urged the Chief. "There's no escaping fate. Drink while the champagne lasts! "
17 " Let's drink to not being worse off. We have known better days. "
18 " The pure and sinless did not exist, or else died unnoticed and with no obituary. The idea seemed persuasive. Those who merited obituaries had usually achieved things, fought for their ideals, and when locked in battle, it wasn’t easy to remain entirely honest and upright. Today’s battles were all for material gain, anyway. The crazy idealist was extinct – survived by the crazy pragmatist … "
