MILITIAMAN'S ROMANCE -- new prose (by Zakhar Prilepin) [beginning of first story/part]

He recently got a white "Lada 5" vehicle.

Life turned out strangely, as if he hadn't prepared for class, woke up in a bad mood because of it, and then dragged himself toward school through the gray snowy slush, stomach churning; when classmates shouted to him from the far side of the street, he pretended not to hear; a hundred yards before the school he slipped into a courtyard and decided to skip the day, but even that went badly -- he drifted aimlessly through the city; the satchel on his back seemed to grow heavier by the hour; his shoulders ached; his shoes were soaked; he was hungry, bored, miserable; with no money in his pockets, he searched the ground near some out-of-the-way shops and finally spotted a coin -- for a moment he felt lucky; then another truant appeared, a boy just like him, only two heads taller, without a satchel, with drooling thick lips and a sly grin; "That's mine;" he said, "I dropped it -- give it here;" so he surrendered the slippery fifty kopeks that had briefly promised tea and a meat pie; later he stood behind a bus shelter, staring into the darkness for a long time, stunned by humiliation; snowflakes landed in his eyes; nearby, a man and a woman carried on some impossible conversation, neither hearing a word the other said -- as though both of them were deaf; he delayed going home, knowing his mother was sick; by the time he finally arrived, freezing and so hungry that nausea washed over him in waves, she was beside herself with worry; school had been cancelled that day, it turned out, -- she had waited for him from morning until evening and had even cooked a chicken for him, -- but since he never came home, his older brother had eaten it all, leaving only the neck and a mangled wing.

That's how strange life turned out to be, all of it.

At vocational school it became clear that he was clumsy with his hands; in the army, that he got beaten more often than the others, though the others got beaten too. However, it wasn't only the older conscripts who beat him; even the men from his own draft did, though "beat" isn't quite the right word; they mocked him, pushed him around, took out their frustrations on him -- each for his own reasons; but he had more than enough reasons of his own; he too could have taken his anger out on someone -- only he never had enough bitterness or spirit for that; yet the girl who was almost his girlfriend was dragged into another man's bed not even a year, not even six months into his army service, but on the very night after his farewell party; his older brother, who came to the oath-taking ceremony, laughing, told him all about it; his mother wasn't able to come, and before long she died -- he was allowed to attend the funeral, but afterward he had to return to his unit; no one took into account that he was grieving, that his mother was gone; they kept tormenting him and driving him around as before, while meanwhile his brother exchanged the parents' apartment, kept the central apartment for himself, and bought a second flat for the younger brother in a rundown barracks-style building in the suburbs.

He came back there after the army.

The neighbors were always drunk; they fought and shouted without end, unable to tell day from night -- where they found the strength for it all was beyond him; he even envied them.

What made his grievance even more bitter was that his older brother had never had to serve; while their mother was still well, she had bought him off and gotten him out of it -- she couldn't do the same for the younger boy: every kopeck was going toward medicine, and that fried chicken had been almost the only one during the several years of their mother's illness.

His mother might have lived longer, but after he was conscripted, she was left without anyone to care for her.

It's not that the elder son sent her to her grave -- but he sure didn't keep her on this earth.

Yet he carried himself as though, while the younger son idled away his days, he had borne the whole weight of their mother's care. And in general, the older one's manner of speaking was such as if he had never once dodged the draft -- but had served out both his compulsory service and another three years on contract, moreover in a "hot spot," although there weren't any hot spots anymore then: some had already boiled away, while others were only beginning to boil.

All around, too, things were smoldering: some shouted about independence, others about the Judas General Secretary, third ones treated themselves with urine, fourth ones saw Jews everywhere, fifth ones grew melancholy and quietly crawled about like winter flies.

ESSAY (AND ANALYSIS)

This opening (by Zakhar Prilepin) is remarkably effective because it does something that many novels and short stories try to do but rarely accomplish: it establishes an entire philosophy of existence before the protagonist has really done anything. The story is titled "Life," yet it is not introducing a plot so much as a pattern. The events themselves are almost mundane--a skipped day at school, military service, a family tragedy, a shabby apartment--but together they form a worldview in which life appears less like a sequence of choices than a long accumulation of disappointments, humiliations, and bad timing.

The first sentence immediately illustrates this approach:

He recently got a white "Lada 4" vehicle.

On its own, it sounds almost optimistic. A new car is conventionally associated with success, stability, or a fresh start. Yet the sentence is so bare and unemphatic that it almost feels accidental. Nothing is made of the achievement. Before the reader has time to interpret it positively, the narration abruptly pivots:

Life turned out strangely...

The contrast is striking. Instead of explaining how he obtained the car, the narrator launches into a sweeping metaphor comparing an entire human life to one miserable (school) day.

This extended comparison is perhaps the most distinctive feature of the passage. Rather than saying that life was difficult or unfair, the narrator imagines it as a single day when every small decision goes wrong. The protagonist wakes with anxiety after failing to prepare for class. He cannot bring himself to attend school, yet skipping proves no better. Even chance refuses to favor him: the coin he finds--his brief hope for tea and a meat pie--is immediately taken away by someone stronger.

Notice how the humiliations are carefully calibrated. None of them is extraordinary. The boy is not robbed of a fortune or catastrophically injured. Instead, he repeatedly loses tiny comforts: dignity, warmth, food, hope. The cumulative effect is stronger precisely because each setback is believable. Many readers can remember childhood days that seemed cursed in just this fashion, where nothing terrible happened individually, but everything collectively felt unbearable.

The image of the bus shelter is especially memorable:

he stood behind a bus shelter, staring into the darkness for a long time, stunned by humiliation; snowflakes landed in his eyes...

The physical environment mirrors the emotional one. Snow, darkness, wet shoes, slush, aching shoulders, nausea--all combine into a landscape that seems almost indifferent to human suffering. Nature is neither hostile nor comforting; it simply exists while the protagonist quietly absorbs another defeat.

One particularly poignant detail is the conversation between the man and woman:

neither hearing a word the other said--as though both of them were deaf...

On one level, this is simply an observation made by the boy. On another, it becomes symbolic of the entire story. Throughout the excerpt, people consistently fail to understand one another. His classmates call after him without knowing his state of mind. His brother laughs while delivering devastating news. Military comrades see only someone weaker than themselves. Society itself fractures into groups shouting incompatible slogans. Communication repeatedly collapses into noise.

The chicken scene at the end of the opening paragraph is devastating because of its restraint. The mother has spent her limited energy preparing what was clearly an exceptional meal. The reader learns only afterward that fried chicken was almost unheard of during her illness because every kopeck went toward medicine. The older brother eating nearly all of it is therefore not simply an act of selfishness but an emblem of how scarce tenderness has become. By the time the protagonist returns, all that remains is "the neck and a mangled wing"--a grotesquely concrete image of opportunities perpetually arriving too late.

The sentence

That's how strange life turned out to be, all of it.

serves almost as the thesis of the work. The word "strange" is unexpectedly understated. One might expect "cruel," "tragic," or "unfair." Instead, the narrator chooses a word that suggests bewilderment rather than accusation. Life is less evil than inexplicably misaligned, as though every event arrives slightly out of sync with what it should have been.

The military section reinforces this philosophy. What stands out is not merely that the protagonist suffers hazing, but that the narration refuses melodrama. It observes almost matter-of-factly:

the others got beaten too.

This qualification is important. The protagonist is not uniquely persecuted; rather, he consistently fares a little worse than everyone else. Even among victims, he occupies the lowest rung. Likewise, his girlfriend leaves him not months later but the very night after his farewell party, emphasizing not just betrayal but terrible timing.

The description of the older brother is especially nuanced. The narrator explicitly avoids simplistic moral judgment:

It's not that the elder son sent her to her grave--but he sure didn't keep her on this earth.

This sentence captures a mature ethical ambiguity. The brother is neither innocent nor wholly guilty. His neglect contributes to the mother's decline without making him solely responsible. Such distinctions give the narrative credibility, resisting the temptation to divide characters neatly into villains and saints.

The older brother's attitude becomes psychologically significant. He behaves as though he had borne the family's burdens and fulfilled every civic duty, despite having avoided military service. The younger brother, meanwhile, actually served, endured abuse, lost his mother, and returned to an impoverished apartment. The resentment here arises not only from unequal recognition. The brother appropriates the moral prestige associated with sacrifice without having made the sacrifice itself.

The sentence describing his manner of speaking is one of the most ironic in the passage:

...as if he had never once dodged the draft--but had served out both his compulsory service and another three years on contract...

The exaggeration is deliberate. The narrator humorously imagines him speaking with the swagger of a decorated combat veteran despite having done nothing of the sort. The irony becomes sharper when it notes that there were scarcely any "hot spots" at the time anyway: "some had already boiled away, while others were only beginning to boil." The unusual boiling metaphor subtly links political conflicts with pots on a stove, suggesting a world in which crises never truly disappear but merely cool down or heat up elsewhere.

The final paragraph widens the focus beyond the protagonist. Suddenly the story becomes historical as well as personal:

All around, too, things were smoldering...

The verb "smoldering" is crucial. Society has not yet burst into flames, but unrest is everywhere beneath the surface. The narrator then catalogs increasingly bizarre social responses: nationalism, denunciations of political leaders, urine therapy, antisemitic conspiracy theories, quiet despair. The list is almost satirical in its rhythm, yet beneath the humor lies an image of a society that has lost any common understanding of reality. Everyone reacts differently, but no one seems capable of genuine collective purpose.

This widening of perspective accomplishes something subtle. Up to this point, readers might wonder whether the protagonist's misfortunes stem from his own personality, bad luck, or family circumstances. By ending with social fragmentation, the narrative suggests that his private suffering belongs to a larger historical disorder. His life is not merely an individual tragedy but one thread in the unraveling of an entire society.

Stylistically, the passage is remarkable for its long, flowing sentences. Rather than isolating incidents into separate paragraphs, the narration often strings them together with semicolons, producing the sensation that misfortune itself has no natural stopping point. One humiliation leads seamlessly into the next, just as one historical crisis gives way to another. The syntax becomes an embodiment of the protagonist's experience: there is scarcely time to recover before the next disappointment arrives.

Overall, this excerpt presents life not as heroic struggle or existential absurdity but as persistent misalignment. Every possibility for happiness is offset by poor timing, misunderstanding, or simple bad fortune. Yet the narrator recounts these events with dry irony rather than bitterness. That combination of compassion, restraint, dark humor, and historical awareness gives the opening its unusual power. It invites the reader not merely to sympathize with one unfortunate man but to contemplate how an entire era could make disappointment feel almost ordinary, until "life" itself becomes synonymous with a long series of small defeats punctuated by the occasional, devastating loss.

TYPOLOGICAL ANALYSIS (SOCIONICS)

Why the Beta quadra stands out

The entire passage is saturated with what Socionics describes as Ni [introverted iNtuition] + Fe [extroverted Feeling] themes.

1. Life as a single unfolding fate (Ni)

The narrator doesn't recount isolated episodes. Instead, the opening presents the protagonist's whole life as though it were one continuous experience:

"Life turned out strangely..."

Then follows one enormous sentence in which childhood humiliation becomes a metaphor for everything that follows.

This is a very Ni way of organizing a narrative.

Rather than:

event --> lesson --> next event,

the structure is:

one continuous current carrying a person through time.

The emphasis is on the shape of a life, not individual incidents.

2. Time is almost the main character

Notice how often time itself appears.

• childhood

• army

• mother's illness

• funeral

• returning home

• after the army

• historical changes

• society falling apart

Everything is viewed historically.

The narrator continually asks:

How did this life become what it became?

That long temporal perspective is characteristic of Ni.

3. Tragic irony

Beta quadra literature often contains irony, but not the detached irony of the Alpha quadra.

Instead, it is irony mixed with tragedy.

Examples:

The found coin.

The chicken.

The girlfriend.

The apartment.

The brother.

Every apparent hope collapses almost immediately.

This repeated inversion creates a sense of inevitable tragic rhythm.

4. The historical backdrop

The ending suddenly zooms outward:

All around, too, things were smoldering...

Now the protagonist's misery becomes part of an entire civilization's transformation.

Then follows:

• nationalism

• political betrayal

• conspiracy theories

• social despair

This movement between individual fate and historical upheaval is something Beta quadra literature frequently explores.

Why Gamma comes second

Gamma quadra themes are definitely present.

Especially:

• unfair distribution of resources

• property

• apartments

• military service

• practical injustice

• betrayal

• family obligations

The older brother benefits materially.

The younger brother loses materially.

Those are Gamma concerns.

However...

the narrator is less interested in who won than what this reveals about the tragic flow of a human life.

That pushes the emphasis back toward Beta.

Why not Delta?

Delta usually emphasizes:

• ordinary kindness,

• everyday dignity,

• small communities,

• peaceful endurance,

• gradual improvement.

There are hints of Delta values in the mother's care.

The chicken.

The wish for an ordinary family.

But these things are remembered as losses rather than lived realities.

The emotional center lies elsewhere.

Why the Alpha quadra is the least likely

Alpha quadra literature often enjoys:

• intellectual curiosity,

• playful exploration,

• imaginative possibility,

• gentle humor,

• discussion of ideas.

This passage contains almost none of that.

Even the humorous moments are dark.

The narrator isn't exploring possibilities.

He's reflecting on inevitabilities.

The information elements

If I reduced the excerpt to information elements, I'd roughly say:

Very strong

• Ni (life as destiny, historical flow, time)

• Fe (shared emotional atmosphere, tragedy)

Moderate

• Se [extroverted Sensing] (army, hierarchy, bullying, domination)

An interesting detail

The last paragraph is actually a beautiful Beta transition.

The story moves from:

my suffering

to

our country's suffering

without changing tone.

The protagonist's biography becomes inseparable from history itself.

That merging of the personal with the historical is something found in many works often associated with Beta quadra themes, where an individual's fate is understood against the backdrop of sweeping social change.

The excerpt most strongly evokes IEI (INFp), with EIE (ENFj) as the next strongest possibility.

Why IEI stands out

1. The entire narrative is organized around time (Ni)

The opening doesn't simply recount events; it compresses an entire life into the metaphor of one disastrous school day:

Life turned out strangely...

That is a deeply Ni way of thinking. The narrator isn't interested in isolated facts but in revealing the shape or pattern of a life.

Notice how the narration keeps returning to timing:

• he skips school on the one day school is cancelled,

• his mother cooks a rare chicken on that same day,

• his brother eats it before he gets home,

• his girlfriend leaves him the very night after his farewell party,

• his mother dies while he is in the army,

• he returns only to lose the family apartment.

These aren't random misfortunes. They are presented as manifestations of a single underlying pattern. That emphasis on temporal unfolding is very characteristic of Ni.

2. Symbolic rather than analytical

An LSI/ISTj narrator might explain systems, rules, or causal chains in detail. An SLE/ESTp narrator might emphasize action and confrontation. Here, the narration often turns concrete events into symbols.

The school day becomes life.

The chicken becomes maternal love and scarcity.

The bus shelter becomes a place of humiliation.

The "winter flies" become an image of social exhaustion.

Even the historical conflicts are described through the metaphor:

some had already boiled away, while others were only beginning to boil.

The narrator consistently transforms reality into imagery rather than dissecting it logically.

3. Emotional restraint rather than emotional performance

The emotions are powerful, but they are understated.

Consider:

It's not that the elder son sent her to her grave--but he sure didn't keep her on this earth.

That line isn't an outburst. It's quiet, reflective, and morally nuanced.

Likewise:

That's how strange life turned out to be, all of it.

An EIE/ENFj narrator might be more inclined toward overt rhetorical intensity. This narrator instead allows the accumulation of details to produce the emotional effect.

That feels more IEI than EIE to me.

Why EIE is a close second

The excerpt certainly contains strong Fe elements.

The narrator is very aware of emotional atmosphere:

• humiliation,

• grief,

• shame,

• irony,

• social moods.

The final paragraph expands from one man's suffering to a society in turmoil:

All around, too, things were smoldering...

That broad emotional portrait of an era is something an EIE could certainly produce.

However, the emotional expression is remarkably restrained. The narrator rarely tells us how to feel. Instead, he presents scenes whose emotional significance emerges naturally.

That restraint nudges me toward IEI.

Why not LSI (ISTj)?

There are LSI-like elements in the world being depicted:

• the army,

• hierarchy,

• discipline,

• injustice,

• social order breaking down.

But those are features of the setting, not of the narrative method.

The narrator is not primarily concerned with:

• rules,

• principles,

• consistency,

• logical organization.

Instead, he focuses on lived experience and the meaning of events across time.

Why not SLE (ESTp)?

The SLE energy appears mostly in other characters:

• the bullies,

• the older brother's swagger,

• military hazing,

• coercion,

• dominance.

The narrator observes these dynamics but does not inhabit them.

If anything, he is acutely sensitive to the emotional and existential consequences of force, rather than celebrating or identifying with it.

The role of Fe

Although I lean IEI, I don't think this is an Ni-only text. The emotional atmosphere is essential.

The narrator notices:

• people shouting,

• mocking,

• worrying,

• grieving,

• fighting,

• carrying on conversations where no one listens,

• the collective emotional climate of a country in transition.

That is why I see IEI rather than, say, ILI/INTp. The emotional dimension is too important to be incidental.

What most strongly suggests IEI is the narrative's quiet, reflective transformation of ordinary misfortunes into a meditation on destiny, time, and historical change. Rather than arguing a thesis or dramatizing emotion for its own sake, it lets recurring images, unfortunate timing, and accumulated experience reveal the shape of a life. That sustained focus on temporal pattern, symbolic imagery, and understated emotional resonance matches most closely to the Socionics type IEI (Intuitive Ethical Introvert) or INFp (Introverted, iNtuitive, Feeling, perceiving) [introverted iNtuition (Ni) + extroverted Feeling (Fe)].