As college students, there is a certain canon of literature that seems to attract us. We gorge ourselves on Kerouac and Kinsey, Vonnegut and Robbins, Ellison and Salinger in order to expand our minds and appear intellectual. But every once in a while it’s nice to take a break from the social satires and nonconformist narratives to read a book that is just thoroughly entertaining. “City of Thieves” is one of those books.
Written by David Benioff, author of “The 25th Hour,” “City of Thieves” does not have grandiose aspirations of social commentary or philosophical musings. The pretext of the novel is Benioff interviewing his grandfather about the elder’s experiences during the German siege of Leningrad during World War II. While this might add an element of realism to the story, do not be fooled, “City of Thieves” is a work of fiction. The closing line of the prologue is the grandfather telling Benioff, “You’re a writer. Make it up.”
This is not to say “City of Thieves” is entirely unrealistic either. Despite some of the more fictional elements of the plot, Benioff keeps the novel grounded in relative plausibility. The novel is narrated by Lev Beniov, a 17-year-old, self-conscious Russian Jew. After he is caught looting the corpse of a German paratrooper, he is taken to prison where he meets Kolya, an attractive and charming deserter. From jail, the two are taken to a colonel of the NKVD, a branch of the Soviet secret police. The colonel gives Lev and Kolya an ultimatum: find a dozen eggs for his daughter’s wedding cake by Thursday or be executed as enemies of the state. Lev and Kolya opt for the former and thus begin an odyssey through the harsh winter and dystopian landscape of 1941 Russia.
The relationship between Lev and Kolya is the heart of “City of Thieves.” Lev is insecure in a relatable way. His hyper-conscious narration is full of self-criticism but combined with an honest wit. While trudging through the Russian woods after dark, Lev thinks to himself, “Nor could I feel the tip of my nose. What a good joke that would be-I spent most of my adolescence wishing for a smaller nose; a few more hours in the woods and I wouldn’t have a nose.” This sort of narration defines Lev as a character, and sets him as the stark opposite of Kolya.
If Lev is what every guy was at 17, Kolya is what every guy wanted to be. Handsome, clever and smart, Kolya is both good with women and good in a fight. As opposite ends of the same spectrum, Lev and Kolya develop an “Odd Couple” dynamic that becomes strangely endearing.
This dynamic is elaborated upon as they exit Leningrad along a set of train tracks. Lev narrates, “Kolya walked atop one rail, a gymnast on the balance beam, hands out to the side. I trudged along behind him, in the center of the tracks, unwilling to play his game, partly because I was angry with him, partly because I knew I’d lose.” Kolya is obviously the more dominant personality of the duo. This generates a good deal of resentment in Lev, who initially sees Kolya’s successes as his failures. But Lev is also honest with himself (and the readers) about his shortcomings, which allows the two characters to bond as they make the treacherous journey behind enemy lines.
While Lev and Kolya’s friendship is the heart of “City of Thieves,” Benioff’s storytelling is the soul. The book moves along at a quick pace. Benioff is not overly descriptive, but adds touches that fill out the characters and settings. The novel is both heartwarming, as Kolya teaches Lev to pick up girls using calculated neglect, as well as heart wrenching, as in Benioff’s portrait of a starving boy on a Leningrad rooftop, keeping a solitary vigil over the frozen corpse of his grandfather. In fact, there are echoes of Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road” in some of the scenes of frozen desperation Lev and Kolya find themselves in. Plus, there are cannibals. And really, what else could you want?