Last time (https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/6232406659) I could enthuse about the first in this series being a blend of Kurkov and crime, and wish with haste for more. Now? I'm wondering why the author made this extended detour into mediocrity. Here we very much have a sequel, with that suit and that bone and so on factoring into the low-level intrigue, and the story of Samson our lead nicely extended. The balance of power in post-WWI Kyiv is more fixed, with small kingdoms established about the place. And yet it is its own thing, probably able to be read without knowledge of the first book – although the fact the hero is still able to use his disembodied ear to hear things with is a must-know.

But why would you read this in isolation? And at times, the feeling was more, 'why would you read this'? This felt very weak. After early drama when the girlfriend gets stuck in one of those small, vicious kingdoms I mentioned, the piece plods on, with the most limp case of all, as Samson must respond to the Cheka banning private sale of meat and find out where a pig ended up being sold, to whom, and how guilty they might possibly be thought. Other things interrupt this, and it takes far too long to resolve. There is a kind of point to it all, ultimately, but to the book not so much. It's a limp drift through the doldrums of a bizarre case. While the original title's literal translation – "Heart, it's not Meat" – is a quote, it combines with other territories and their calling it, as I believe, "Samson and Hope", to suggest a story that asks us about the strength of love, and the heart, and hope, in such rarefied times. But it does that in a pretty unenjoyable way, meaning this is the least pleasant and most humourless read I've found from this author.

Andrey Kurov returns to 1920s Kyiv in the second book of his series featuring investigator Samson Kolechko in The Stolen Heart (translated by Boris Dralyuk). As with the first book in this series, The Silver Bone, this is kind of a police procedural but it is much more an exploration of Kyiv during a time a chaos and revolution, with a touch of administrative satire and a smattering of magical realism. Once again, the investigation (such as it is), is just a scaffold in which to hang the story and does not necessarily fall out the way readers might expect.
When The Stolen Heart opens, Samson and his colleagues are called out to what they think might be a murder – blood coming out from under the door of a locked shed. It turns out the that owner of the shed had lent the building out to a man who was using it slaughter pigs. Only the distribution of meat without a permit is a crime and Samson is directed to arrest the butcher and find where the meat has gone. This investigation, and the interviews with those who bought various parts of the pig, run through the book but so much more is going on, including with Checka, with the local doctor who sets up a practice in Samson’s apartment and with Samson’s girlfriend/housemate/fiancé Nadezdha who at one point is kidnapped by the seemingly independent railway worker.
With Ukraine still at war with Russia, it is hard not to see this series as a parable or sorts. But as such it is asking questions broader than those raised by the current war. There is a deep humanity in Samson and his exploits, and this is evidences by the people he helps and who help him. He may not have trained as a police officer but his natural curiosity and empathy make him an excellent investigator.
But there is also, again, plenty of satire. At one point Samson and his colleagues go to interrogation training. Throughout the rest of the book, he and his partner struggle to put the advice (including blowing smoke into the face of the accused) into practice. And again, Kurov is live to the inconsistency, irony and hypocrisy of the administrative system in which all of the characters work and live.
There is an overarching mystery here and Kurov constantly reminds readers that this is the second book of a trilogy. The case of the silver bone is still ongoing when the bone is stolen and the suspect is sighted out of jail. And Kurov delivers a bit of a cliffhanger, thanks to the ongoing device of Samsons ear, cut off in the first novel but placed in a box and still able to hear for him no matter where it is.
The Stolen Heart is a great follow up to The Silver Bone and sets up well for a (possibly) concluding volume. Kurov brings early 20th Century Kyiv and its inhabitants vividly to life but explores that milieu with a knowing eye and a view to the seemingly eternal struggles of people against authority, particularly in that part of the world.

'The Stolen Heart' is a follow up to Andrey Kurkov's strange but likeable 'Silver Bone', following accidental policeman Samson Kolechko as he ambles his way through the confusing maze of newly-Soviet Kyiv. It wouldn't be correct to call these 'whodunnits' or 'crime' fiction. They're more about the bizarreness of navigating life at that place and time, and that's really where the interest lies. In this sequel, Samson and his fellow copper Kholodny are assigned to investigate the illegal selling of meat. The fact selling meat had only just been made illegal, possibly even after the 'crime' took place, and those involved had no idea about the changed law, is not considered relevant. Samson also faces challenges at home when his fiance is kidnapped by rogue railway workers who object to taking part in the census, and his friend Dr Varutkhin is made homeless.

There's a slight magical realist element to these books, in that Samson keeps his severed ear in a box, and can hear perfectly (or better than perfectly) through it even when he is somewhere else entirely. A useful tool for a policeman - although he doesn't deploy in a particularly deliberate way. Other than that, the only strangeness is from the world of newly minted Communism, and that 'real' bizarreness is more than enough. More than any other book, this novel made me really think about how it would have felt to live in a society that was so precarious and unpredictable, and the long term effect that would have on people and societies even after changes were made.

Samson is a likeable character, as are most of the characters around him. It's still quite a dark and unsettling story, but his small acts of kindness and those he receives prevent it being utterly depressing.

Although it's atmospheric, it is quite slow and I did feel it dragged. The central mystery - whilst making a good point - is not particularly exciting. I kept expecting it to evolve into something unexpectedly dramatic. The main action happens relatively early on, before even the halfway point. After that it plodded a bit as Samson and Kholodny wandered around Kyiv without any sense of rush, interviewing one suspect a day about the buying of meat. There were several really promising starts to subplots that fizzled out without delivering much.

It gets ten out of ten for social commentary and characterisation, but I need more of a plot to really love a book, and I don't like books that I feel are an effort to pick up and carry on with, which sadly did apply to this one at times. So a three star effort. If you enjoyed the first, it is worth reading this one, and I do intend to carry on with the series as I think it has great promise. I just hope we get some slightly meatier (no pun intended!) plots in future instalments.

The Stolen Heart is the second book in The Kyiv Mysteries series by Andrey Kurkov and like its predecessor it is a slightly quirky offbeat book which is underpinned by some excellently described characters and subtle humour.

Overall I found the book very enjoyable and look forward to future books.

The second book in this quite unique series of books set in Kyiv following the aftermath and necessary adjustment after the Soviet revolution.

The book is character driven with eccentric situations and black humour throughout. The confusion of the unfolding drama for the people and their renunciation of the tsarist system is cleverly drawn out. With the fear of different factions, of waging bandits and competing regimes for influence over the capital and surrounding countryside, the novel approaches the nascent republic with comic touches.

The confusion is increased in the books approach to the mysteries our protagonist, Samson, as a criminal investigator undertaken at the state’s police station. Each book to date adds additional uncertainty for the reader, as in the epilogue we meet unspecified characters ‘investigating’ Samson himself, in an almost beneficial style but authoritarian manner.

These growth pains reflects the evolving struggle for nationhood and the enduring strength of its people. Samson is a bright and sincere role model stuck between the old and the new, trying to be a good policeman and a loyal husband and friend.

I love the light-hearted approach to the story. These are written with fictional licence but within a historical context that is fascinating and entertaining. The story telling is gently revealing and maintains interest throughout. I enjoyed the backdrop of Kyiv and its street life, the struggle for the basic needs of life and the good fortune needed to avoid conflict, conscription or death.

At times, I feel the criminal investigations, the lack of justice and various power struggles seem nonsensical but as this is my second book in this series I think you have to set normal police procedural reading aside. I think they are stories within the development of an idealism that wasn’t fully evolved upon birth. They are more like parables that reflect the evils and corruption prevalent. Illustrations of the struggle necessary to bring about a profound revolution and prepares us for why atrocities happened and large scale purges and the genocide that occurred.

What is doesn’t do is call out the population; there is no judgment of personality or prejudice of race and creed. Rather it champions the integrity of the Ukrainian people and the wider population coalescing into a common future.
For this reason these are quite different books. Full of ideas, wonderful language and memorable imagery. This was a satisfying read that left me moved, thrilled but with an enduring smile on my face.