The novel The Lonely Yurt is perceived as Noah's Ark, capable of overcoming space and time. Thus it is not a mere collection of vivid and unusual personae. The novel's characters live their inimitable lives of flesh and blood, interwoven into the fabric of the harsh reality, which time had bestowed upon them. We avidly delve into all the subtleties of their lives, thoughts, feelings and aspirations. In the seething, as it would seem, stream of random events we suddenly perceive the oppressive and irreversible momentum of the epoch, and its fiery breath. Life presents us not only with the fragrance of spring and renewal, and the cry of life come into being, but also the stench of blood, the moans of unbearable pain, and the eternally frigid death causing one's soul to freeze...Amidst the shameful and absurd truth of that foolhardiness into which the people were thrown, as a pure melody in a cacophony of sounds, as a babbling nocturnal spring the most significant manifestation of life occurs, no matter how harsh it may have been. Here it is: Shege and Khansulu, and the steppes, the night, and the timorous touch of hands intimidated by affection...