The Foundation Pit 
But the future seems not to be eager to arrive and we live in the distressing present and continue to wait…
And then everything seems to be left in the past… But everyone keeps waiting and growing old and then it is time to die…
The Foundation Pit is an absolutely perspicacious allegory.
Building of utopia always begins with an excavation of a pit but despite all the exertions and enthusiasm things never go any further…
Some books hit me so hard that it hurts in my chest. Platonov's dense prose and complex thoughts are comparable to Krzhizhanovsky's motley visions. But unlike Krzh. Platonov isn't leaving reality behind as a reaction to a thoughtless society. Instead we get a hyper-sensitized and often animistic reshuffling of the deck of signification. Reduced to units, elements, and matter - life for Platonov is constantly in question. He posits:"What was to be done, oh God, if there were none of those
This might be the one book, fact or fiction, I'd recommend about life in the early days of the Soviet Union.A group of builders are digging out the foundations for a building. The symbolism is clear. What the building will be, is not ever made clear and may not even be important. The men are struggling, down in the foundations, with the implications of the new regime, which is under construction and which therefore has turned the way of life, the way of thinking and all relationships upside

I read great swathes of this book as absurdist black comedy, and kept imagining the events portrayed as scenes in a marginally avant-garde silent film. Each character is a ghost, or husk of itself, and moves through the narrative as a reasoning automaton, even if that reasoning is fatally flawed, and is not even properly reasoning. Each character is trapped inside its own type-casting, with this type-casting being triple-layered by the author, by the pervasive authority within the narrative,
A nightmare of language suborned to meaninglessness. Double-speak eating its own tail before diffusing out into void and psychotic referencelessness. All in service to some end without means: the bright burning light of total totalitarianism.
"Now we feel nothing at all - only dust and ashes remain in us." (104)I appreciate many forms of literature; three particular (and often interwoven) kinds occupy elevated spots: Russian literature, Soviet-era literature, and prison literature/literature of rebellion. Dostoevsky, Grossman, Solzhenitsyn, Shalamov, Koestler I could go on naming favorite writers that combine some or all of these categories. One person who fits them rather swimmingly, and whom I had not previously read, is Platonov.
Andrei Platonov
Paperback | Pages: 141 pages Rating: 3.77 | 4136 Users | 258 Reviews

List Books Supposing The Foundation Pit
| Original Title: | Котлован (Kotlovan) |
| ISBN: | 0810111454 (ISBN13: 9780810111455) |
| Edition Language: | English |
| Setting: | U.S.S.R. |
| Literary Awards: | Preis der Leipziger Buchmesse Nominee for Übersetzung (2017) |
Description In Favor Of Books The Foundation Pit
We always believe that the bright future is just around the corner and we wait for it to come……on the face of each young Pioneer girl there remained a trace of the difficulty, the feebleness of early life, meagerness of body and beauty of expression. But the happiness of childhood friendship, the realization of the future world in the play of youth and in the worthiness of their own severe freedom signified on the childish faces important gladness, replacing for them beauty and domestic plumpness.
But the future seems not to be eager to arrive and we live in the distressing present and continue to wait…
In the church burned many candles; the light of the silent, sad wax illuminated the entire interior of the building right up to the cupola above the hiding place of the sacred relics, and the cleanwashed faces of the saints stared out into the dead air with an expression of equanimity, like inhabitants of that other peaceful world—but the church was empty.
And then everything seems to be left in the past… But everyone keeps waiting and growing old and then it is time to die…
The Foundation Pit is an absolutely perspicacious allegory.
Building of utopia always begins with an excavation of a pit but despite all the exertions and enthusiasm things never go any further…
Describe Epithetical Books The Foundation Pit
| Title | : | The Foundation Pit |
| Author | : | Andrei Platonov |
| Book Format | : | Paperback |
| Book Edition | : | Anniversary Edition |
| Pages | : | Pages: 141 pages |
| Published | : | June 8th 1994 by Northwestern University Press (first published 1969) |
| Categories | : | Fiction. Cultural. Russia. Literature. Russian Literature. Classics |
Rating Epithetical Books The Foundation Pit
Ratings: 3.77 From 4136 Users | 258 ReviewsWrite Up Epithetical Books The Foundation Pit
"You did not possess the meaning of life; stay here - and I'll find out what you lived for and perished for. Since no one needs you and you lie about amidst the whole world, then I shall store and remember you."This story not only essentially acts as a critique of socialism and communism, but it acts as a critique of the way people see their own lives. Full to the brim with memorable quotes from absurd but relatable characters, this book questions everything so intrinsic to communal life, asSome books hit me so hard that it hurts in my chest. Platonov's dense prose and complex thoughts are comparable to Krzhizhanovsky's motley visions. But unlike Krzh. Platonov isn't leaving reality behind as a reaction to a thoughtless society. Instead we get a hyper-sensitized and often animistic reshuffling of the deck of signification. Reduced to units, elements, and matter - life for Platonov is constantly in question. He posits:"What was to be done, oh God, if there were none of those
This might be the one book, fact or fiction, I'd recommend about life in the early days of the Soviet Union.A group of builders are digging out the foundations for a building. The symbolism is clear. What the building will be, is not ever made clear and may not even be important. The men are struggling, down in the foundations, with the implications of the new regime, which is under construction and which therefore has turned the way of life, the way of thinking and all relationships upside

I read great swathes of this book as absurdist black comedy, and kept imagining the events portrayed as scenes in a marginally avant-garde silent film. Each character is a ghost, or husk of itself, and moves through the narrative as a reasoning automaton, even if that reasoning is fatally flawed, and is not even properly reasoning. Each character is trapped inside its own type-casting, with this type-casting being triple-layered by the author, by the pervasive authority within the narrative,
A nightmare of language suborned to meaninglessness. Double-speak eating its own tail before diffusing out into void and psychotic referencelessness. All in service to some end without means: the bright burning light of total totalitarianism.
"Now we feel nothing at all - only dust and ashes remain in us." (104)I appreciate many forms of literature; three particular (and often interwoven) kinds occupy elevated spots: Russian literature, Soviet-era literature, and prison literature/literature of rebellion. Dostoevsky, Grossman, Solzhenitsyn, Shalamov, Koestler I could go on naming favorite writers that combine some or all of these categories. One person who fits them rather swimmingly, and whom I had not previously read, is Platonov.


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