Title: A lesser Dostoevsky.
Review: When you have traversed the expanse of Dosteovsky's power and intellect, such things as 'the burn' simply roll off your shoulders like shouts from the rabble. Aksyonov speaks from too haughty a perch for my taste, as I've never been able to personally relate any experiences in this novel with those of my own personal life; which, in my own literary assessment, should be the goal of almost any enjoyable literature. But perhaps I'll give The Burn another chance, but for now (after traversing through Gravity's Rainbow, Death on the Installment Plan, etc...) I may have become rather irritated with such a sloppy telling of a story, which, after all, should be the base point of the damn thing. Aksyonov, doing ZERO research, stinks of literary connection. And that kills, absolute and total.
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