The scent of pine: a novel

Unhappily married Lena meets Ben at an academic conference, and when he offers her a ride home to Boston, she impulsively asks to join him at his remote cabin in Maine. Gradually, Lena unfolds the story of her ill-fated summer as a camp counselor in Soviet Russia, where the boys were told to sleep with their hands on top of the sheets, and Lena and her best friend, Inka, tried to get dates with the soldiers stationed at the camp. But every boy Lena dates disappears. This is no ghost story, at least not in the spooky sense. Instead, Vapnyar gives us a modern Scheherazade, weaving literary allusions, sexual repression and awakening, and Ben's own pathetic story into a darkly funny, lonely love story evoked by the landscapes of Russia and Maine. Lena's story is especially vivid, bringing to life a summer-camp experience that is at once universal (smelly kids, awkward flirtations, and the close bond formed in the counselors' cabin) and uniquely iron curtain (banned books and soldiers). Readers of literary fiction will want to try this surprisingly quick read.--Maguire, Susan Copyright 2010 Booklist

Vapnyar (Memoirs of a Muse) delivers an awkward mix of angst and absurdity in her sophomore novel. Lena, a morose adjunct professor of film studies, catches a train out of N.Y.C.'s Penn Station for Saratoga Springs, N.Y., where she is scheduled to be a substitute speaker at an academic conference. Her husband, Vadim, and their children are spending the weekend visiting his parents. During the trip, Lena runs into an old friend, Inka, whom she knew in Russia, and who immigrated from there years before. The chance encounter brings back memories of time spent together as counselors at a camp in the Soviet Union during one haunting summer in the 1980s. At the conference, she meets and is drawn to Ben, a professor of graphic novels, and the two of them decide to travel home together. The rather bland pair begins a desultory affair, filling their travel time with Lena's stories of the camp and comparisons of their past affairs and the disappointments of their present relationships. Vapnyar's spare prose never brings Ben and Lena to life, but Lena's reminiscences vividly render the anxieties of adolescence amid the waning days of the Soviet Union. Agent: Priscilla Gilman, Janklow & Nesbit. (Jan.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

The core of this tale by Russian-born and New York City-based Vapnyar (Memoirs of a Muse) is Lena's experience during her time as a counselor in a Russian summer camp. Through flashbacks, she is portrayed as a breast-beating ugly duckling, despairing of ever evolving into a Leda. Years later, now living in America, Lena has not changed much despite time, marriage, and motherhood. At a conference, she winds up spending an impulsive weekend with Ben, a stranger who is also sexually and romantically stymied. As though telling a rip-off Shahrazad tale, Lena regales Ben with the story of her mysterious camp experience, every detail repeated with unrelenting precision, even though it took place decades earlier. VERDICT Plodding, without depth or sincerity, forced and robotic, Vapnyar's latest isn't for readers who enjoy feel-good stories.-Joyce Townsend, Pittsburg, CA (c) Copyright 2013. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

In Vapnyar's (Broccoli and Other Tales of Food and Love, 2008, etc.) latest novel, a simplicity of narrative--two strangers share their lives over a weekend together--belies the complexity of interwoven themes and ideas. As the book begins, Lena is a self-conscious, self-criticizing woman traveling to an academic conference she does not feel prepared for, being only a professor at a community college. The trip, though, is also a temporary escape from her miserable marriage and, thus, welcome. En route, she fixates on the summer she spent, many years ago, as a counselor for 8- to 10-year-olds at a summer camp in her native Soviet Russia. There, though an outsider by nature, Lena had a friend in her co-counselor, Inka. At camp, there was the prospect of romance, and sex, with the male soldiers who worked there. There was gossip and fantastic stories told not only by Lena and Inka, but by the children they tended. And there were mysteries, too. Small things that touched Lena personally, but didn't add up and never resolved. It's clear that, in some space of Lena's head, she has never left. At the conference, she meets Ben, a university professor who teaches courses on graphic novels. Because he is interested, and asks her directly, Lena begins to tell Ben stories from camp, stories she's never told before--walking through woods, corralling children, the heat wave and the mysteries that persist. Ben has his own strangely intense childhood stories and is equally unhappy in his relationship. Impulsively, they embark on a road trip together, sharing chapters of their lives along the way; both characters grow more vivid in the process, as if dusting each other off for new use. Vapnyar's writing style feels like Lena's camp--everything seems to be in plain sight, but one can sense deeper truths hiding below the surface. As Ben and Lena get close to uncovering some of these truths, their time together inevitably dwindles. Purely silly moments, the headiness of strangers connecting and the universal nature of summer camp lighten the mood. Slight in girth but not in depth.]] Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Unhappily married Lena meets Ben at an academic conference, and when he offers her a ride home to Boston, she impulsively asks to join him at his remote cabin in Maine. Gradually, Lena unfolds the story of her ill-fated summer as a camp counselor in Soviet Russia, where the boys were told to sleep with their hands on top of the sheets, and Lena and her best friend, Inka, tried to get dates with the soldiers stationed at the camp. But every boy Lena dates disappears. This is no ghost story, at least not in the spooky sense. Instead, Vapnyar gives us a modern Scheherazade, weaving literary allusions, sexual repression and awakening, and Ben's own pathetic story into a darkly funny, lonely love story evoked by the landscapes of Russia and Maine. Lena's story is especially vivid, bringing to life a summer-camp experience that is at once universal (smelly kids, awkward flirtations, and the close bond formed in the counselors' cabin) and uniquely iron curtain (banned books and soldiers). Readers of literary fiction will want to try this surprisingly quick read. Copyright 2013 Booklist Reviews.

The core of this tale by Russian-born and New York City-based Vapnyar (Memoirs of a Muse) is Lena's experience during her time as a counselor in a Russian summer camp. Through flashbacks, she is portrayed as a breast-beating ugly duckling, despairing of ever evolving into a Leda. Years later, now living in America, Lena has not changed much despite time, marriage, and motherhood. At a conference, she winds up spending an impulsive weekend with Ben, a stranger who is also sexually and romantically stymied. As though telling a rip-off Shahrazad tale, Lena regales Ben with the story of her mysterious camp experience, every detail repeated with unrelenting precision, even though it took place decades earlier. VERDICT Plodding, without depth or sincerity, forced and robotic, Vapnyar's latest isn't for readers who enjoy feel-good stories.—Joyce Townsend, Pittsburg, CA

Vapnyar (Memoirs of a Muse) delivers an awkward mix of angst and absurdity in her sophomore novel. Lena, a morose adjunct professor of film studies, catches a train out of N.Y.C.'s Penn Station for Saratoga Springs, N.Y., where she is scheduled to be a substitute speaker at an academic conference. Her husband, Vadim, and their children are spending the weekend visiting his parents. During the trip, Lena runs into an old friend, Inka, whom she knew in Russia, and who immigrated from there years before. The chance encounter brings back memories of time spent together as counselors at a camp in the Soviet Union during one haunting summer in the 1980s. At the conference, she meets and is drawn to Ben, a professor of graphic novels, and the two of them decide to travel home together. The rather bland pair begins a desultory affair, filling their travel time with Lena's stories of the camp and comparisons of their past affairs and the disappointments of their present relationships. Vapnyar's spare prose never brings Ben and Lena to life, but Lena's reminiscences vividly render the anxieties of adolescence amid the waning days of the Soviet Union. Agent: Priscilla Gilman, Janklow & Nesbit. (Jan.)