Ice Trilogy 

Ice Trilogy (encloses the novels "Bro", "Ice", "23,000")

In 1908, deep in Siberia, it fell to earth. THEIR ICE. A young man on a scientific expedition found it. It spoke to his heart, and his heart named him Bro. Bro felt the Ice. Bro knew its purpose. To bring together the 23,000 blond, blue-eyed Brothers and Sisters of the Light who were scattered on earth. To wake their sleeping hearts. To return to the Light. To destroy this world. And secretly, throughout the twentieth century and up to our own day, the Children of the Light have pursued their beloved goal.

Pulp fiction, science fiction, New Ageism, pornography, video-game mayhem, old-time Communist propaganda, and rampant commercial hype all collide, splinter, and splatter in Vladimir Sorokin’s virtuosic Ice Trilogy, a crazed joyride through modern times with the promise of a truly spectacular crash at the end. And the reader, as eager for the redemptive fix of a good story as the Children are for the Primordial Light, has no choice except to go along, caught up in a brilliant illusion from which only illusion escapes intact.

(New York Review of Books)


Sorokin’s Ice Trilogy is a fearless work from contemporary Russia’s most imaginative writer. Sorokin pushes against the boundaries of religion and philosophy with results that are unforgettable, transfixing, and often scarily funny.

—Gary Shteyngart

Starting in the 1980s, Vladimir Sorokin has been writing the necessary novel, the precise parable, for each new stage of Russia’s history. To read Sorokin today is to realize the power language exercises over us, and not just in the East. Styles clash in Sorokin’s work: and we see what are claimed to be absolute truths from new angles along with the affinities that unite their different myths.

—Ingo Schulze

So we yearn for certainty, salvation, the absolute—what’s wrong with that? We always have and we always will. Go ahead, Sorokin seems to say; you can’t really help it. Just be careful what you wish for… Those readers (and reviewers) who turn to literature for consolation, or moral enlightenment, or lessons in self-esteem, are well advised to look elsewhere.

—Christian Caryl, The New York Review of Books