Victor Pelevin, the iconoclastic and wildly interesting contemporary Russian novelist who The New Yorker named one of the Best European Writers Under 35, upends any conventional notions of what mythology must be with his unique take on the myth of Theseus and the Minotaur. By creating a mesmerizing world where the surreal and the hyperreal collide, The Helmet of Horror is a radical retelling of the myth of Theseus and the Minotaur set in an Internet chat room. They have never met, they have been assigned strange pseudonyms, they inhabit identical rooms that open out onto very different landscapes, and they have entered a dialogue they cannot escape - a discourse defined and destroyed by the Helmet of Horror. Its wearer is the dominant force they call Asterisk, a force for good and ill in which the Minotaur is forever present and Theseus is the great unknown. The Helmet of Horror is structured according to the way we communicate in the twenty-first century - using the Internet - yet instilled with the figures and narratives of classical mythology. It is a labyrinthine examination of epistemological uncertainty that radically reinvents this myth for an age where information is abundant but knowledge ultimately unattainable.

Russian novelist Victor Pelevin is rapidly establishing himself as one of the most brilliant young writers at work today. His comic inventiveness and mind-bending talent prompted Time magazine to proclaim him a "psychedelic Nabokov for the cyber-age." In his third novel, Buddha's Little Finger, Pelevin has created an intellectually dazzling tale about identity and Russian history, as well as a spectacular elaboration of Buddhist philosophy. Moving between events of the Russian Civil War of 1919 and the thoughts of a man incarcerated in a contemporary Moscow psychiatric hospital, Buddha's Little Finger is a work of demonic absurdism by a writer who continues to delight and astonish.

Roman thought he'd found the perfect opportunity to rebel. He may have been wrong. He awakens strapped to a set of parallel bars in a richly appointed sitting room, and begins a conversation with a masked man which will change his life. His world has been a facade - one which the mysterious Brahma is about to tear away. A stunning novel about the real world, and about the hidden channels of power behind the scenes, EMPIRE V is a post-modern satirical novel exploring the cults and corruption of politics, banking and power. And not only are these cults difficult to join - it turns out they may be impossible to leave . . .

Damilola Karpov is a pilot. Living in Byzantium, a huge sky city floating above the land of Urkaina, he makes his living as a drone pilot - capable of being a cameraman who records the events unfolding in Urkaina or, with the weapons aboard his drone, of making a newsworthy event happen for his employers: 'Big Byz Media'. His recordings are known as S.N.U.F.F.: Special Newsreel/Universal Feature Film. S.N.U.F.F. is a superb post-apocalyptic novel, exploring the conflict between the nation of Urkaina, its causes and its relationship with the city 'Big Byz' above. Contrasting poverty and luxury, low and high technology, barbarity and civilisation - while asking questions about the nature of war, the media, entertainment and humanity.

From Publishers WeeklyRussian novelist Pelevin's chaotic latest examines contemporary Russia as viewed through the eyes of A. Hu-li, a 2,000-year-old werefox who is able to transform into a beautiful nymphet. The opening chapter is both an introduction to werefoxes as well as an account of how werefoxes, working as prostitutes, utilize their stunning looks to absorb a man's life energy. Hu-li's experiences are standard for an ancient werefox until she meets Alexander, an attractive Russian intelligence officer who happens to be a werewolf. The two share a whirlwind romance, and after some trouble, shack up in Hu-li's bomb shelter. While hiding out, Hu-li and Alexander argue about religion, death, truth and the like until they both claim to be the super-werewolf. This argument—and Hu-li's disclosure of her true age—rupture the bliss. Pelevin creates interesting enough characters, but the unexplainable plot twists and the author's preoccupation with philosophical ramblings are nearly as perilous as a silver bullet. (Sept.) Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. FromPart science fiction and part Anaïs Nin erotica, with a hint of Bridget Jones’s Diary and a whole lot of allegory, The Sacred Book of the Werewolf is the tale of A Hu-Li, a 2,000-year-old Taoist werefox who plies her trade as a prostitute in modern day Moscow. By hypnotizing johns with her magical tail, A Hu-li makes men believe they are having sex with her, earns a living, and maintains her virginity. That is until she encounters and falls in love with Alexander, a high-ranking Russian intelligence officer and—not so coincidentally—a werewolf. As he has done in his earlier works (including Homo Zapiens, 2002), Pelevin uses satire as a lens through which to view life in the post-Soviet era while at the same time casting new light on Russia’s classic writing and writers—Nabokov, Gogol, and even Russian fairy tales. Outright strange at moments, the novel holds our interest with unpredictable twists and turns, leaving us stunned, puzzled, and asking for more. --Heather Paulson

Victor Pelevin is "the only young Russian novelist to have made an impression in the West" (Village Voice). With A Werewolf Problem in Central Russia, the second of Pelevin's Russian Booker Prize-winning short story collections, he continues his Sputnik-like rise. Like the writers to whom he is frequently compared––Kafka, Bulgakov, Philip K. Dick, and Joseph Heller––he is a deft fabulist, who finds fuel for his fire in society's deadening protocol. In "The Tarzan Swing," a street wanderer converses with a stranger who could be his own reflection; in the title story, a young Muscovite, Sasha, stumbles upon a group of people in the forest who can transform themselves into wolves; in "Vera Pavlova's Ninth Dream," the attendant in a public toilet finds her researches into solipsism have dire and diabolical consequences. As Publishers Weekly noted about this collection, "Pelevin's allegories are reminiscent of children's fairy tales in their fantastic depictions of worlds within worlds, solitary souls tossed helplessly among them." Pelevin––whom Spin called "a master absurdist, a brilliant satirist of things Soviet, but also of things human"––carries us in A Werewolf Problem in Central Russia to a sublime land of black comic brilliance.