Gorky takes your hand and walks you under the trees of Okurov; you hear the sound of the cathedral bell, mixed with the sounds of workers hammering iron, and the coquettish singing of women, and rain drops fall from the sky, wetting your body, making you shiver. Then Gorky takes you into Kozhemyakin's house, and stands aside for you to see the scene with your own eyes: Kozhemyakin sits on his bed, writing in clear, large script: "This is the story of the life of Matvei Kozhemyakin from the town of Okurov." What Kozhemyakin wrote makes you sad, or something even more intense than sadness, and you cry out in horror: How miserable this "Russia" is. What a human epic! Kozhemyakin is born into the petty bourgeoisie, but he – unlike the bourgeois – had a vibrant heart, a heart quickly corrupted by Russian rot. He fell in love twice, witnessed social classes, and knew the injustice inflicted upon them, becoming a champion of the oppressed, yet remaining bourgeois until his death. Gorky cleverly depicts the need for enlightenment and reason in the era of Tsarism. He even predicts the triumph of a new generation laden with its captivating revolutionary ideas. What is important in this epic is that it overflows with beautiful stories and wonderful descriptions of nature. These are the tales of ordinary people, intellectuals, exiles, immigrants, servants, and workers. Tales recorded by Kozhemyakin, as he sits in his home in the town of Okurov, where he was born and lived among its people for fifty years. The story of Matvei Kozhemyakin's life is the story of Tsarist Russia, and Gorky's own story. It is Gorky's most beautiful and vibrant novel, deservedly placed among the immortal classics. Aqaba Zidan