Very Russian Christmas

Running the gamut from sweet and reverent to twisted and uproarious, and with many of the stories appearing in English for the first time, this is a collection that will satisfy every reader. Dostoevsky brings stories of poverty and tragedy, Tolstoy inspires with his fable-like tales, Chekhov`s unmatchable skills are on full display in a story about a female factory owner and the wretched workers, Klavdia Lukashevitch delights with a sweet and surprising tale of a childhood in White Russia, and Mikhail Zoshchenko recounts madcap anecdotes of Christmas trees and Christmas thieves. There is no shortage of vodka or wit on display here, in a collection that proves, with its wonderful variety and remarkable human touch, that Nobody Does Christmas Like the Russians! My Last Christmas On this festive day, because of somebody`s sin, it is we who must sit here like the wretched of the earth . . . The passengers looked at the fussy figure of the little old man with displeasure and irritation. "Yes," the old man continued, "because of somebody`s sins. . . We are used to watching our little children jump in indescribable delight around the Christmas tree. . . Out of human weakness, dear Sirs and Madams, we enjoy gobbling up ham with green peas and sausages one after another, and a slice of goose, and a tipple tipple of the you know what . . ." "Tfu!" said the fishmonger, looking at the wee old man with disgust. The passengers slid forward on their chairs . . .