In an Abkhaz village spanning the late Czarist years into the Soviet era, these linked tales follow Uncle Sandro—a self-assured toastmaster, dancer, and lovable rogue—through love, mischief, and the collision of old village life with Soviet rule. Told out of order, piling anecdote on anecdote, it's been likened to Twain and García Márquez.
A daring approach to someone dangerous can win a smile instead of punishment if it makes the bold person look completely exposed. Arms flung wide, eyes covered, kneeling at the powerful man's feet and refusing to rise without a blessing, the supplicant turns a startling act into a show of trusting devotion. The surprise passes and the powerful man is charmed.
Unshakable self-assurance becomes endearing rather than grating when it shows up as generous talent, such as leading a feast, dancing, or hosting. Then other people enjoy it instead of feeling put down. A man who never doubts himself can be loved for it.
In this village, a folkloric, almost mystical way of life survives side by side with modern state anxiety, petty paperwork, and the occasional dictator appearing in person. The same skills that served the old world still work in the new one: toasting, dancing, hosting, scheming and smooth diplomacy. They become the tools a person uses to get by under the modern state.