About This Novel
Bedroom and study. Simple furniture, single bed, desk. There were piles of books on the floor and on the desk. Bakhtin was writing at his desk. Enter landlady. She stretched out her clothes and apron, and deliberately coughed twice. Landlady, I'm sorry, Mr. Bakhtin. I have to interrupt your work, if staying in the house all day counts as work. Bakhtin Oh, hello, my dear landlady! Your arrival is just the time to give my rapidly spinning brain a break. I was actually working, not slacking off at all. This kind of work is somewhat different from concentrated labor on factory floors and collective farms, but it is essentially the same.
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