Night Watch

Thanks to the tangled state of Russian copyright law, Americans had the dubious pleasure of receiving the big-screen adaptation of Night Watch before a translation of the original novel. We don’t much like reading a book after seeing the movie; the author’s intentions are inevitably eclipsed by memories of the filmmaker’s interpretations, and the book is almost always shortchanged. It’s quite uncommon to find a book that can survive such a thing. Night Watch is one such book, and we’re glad to say that the best qualities of the movie—its operatic proportions and fantastic mythology—are all plumbed deeper and to greater satisfaction in the original novel.

Lukyanenko’s take on the eternal struggle between good and evil is as informed by the Cold War as it is by fantasy classics. For a book to include vampires, werewolves and byzantine espionage plots—and to make them part of some larger and resonant whole—really is quite a feat. It’s a short list of writers who can pull this off.

The title refers to the good guys who monitor nocturnal Moscow; it’s their task to ensure that the bad guys don’t break the treaty prohibiting either side from using its magic to influence mortal affairs. The resulting deadlock makes the episodic conflicts as bureaucratic and Machiavellian as they are epic, and the moral quandaries that result for watchman Anton Gorodetsky are nuanced and full of gray. We particularly appreciate Lukyanenko’s presentation of post-Soviet Moscow. It’s an unexpectedly noir metropolis, and Anton is as likely to discuss the city’s awkward and newfound consumerism as the hand gestures required to cast a spell.

What makes this book so exceptional is how successfully it navigates pastiche. There’s Star Wars in the moral mythology, but there’s also Crime and Punishment. Joss Whedon fans will recognize and likely appreciate it for that very combination. It’s pulpy and fun, but also a book with big and human themes.—Pete Coco