“All the Sad Young Literary Men” by Keith Gessen is a grad school coming-of-age novel very likely to stir up angst in the almost 30-somethings and nostalgia in their elders.

Gessen’s novel is told from the perspective of Sam, Mark, and Keith, now approaching 30, who bemoan what little they have accomplished in relation to their undergraduate dreams. Mark constantly compares himself to Lenin at his age as he struggles with his dissertation on the Mensheviks and the Russian Revolution. Sam, having received a large advance from a publishing house to write the first great Zionist epic, watches his Google hits dwindle from 300 to 15, realizing he has spent his whole life in a library and lacks the experience to tackle such a work. Keith narrates his story in first person, Gessen’s semi-autobiographical tale, as the son of well educated Russian immigrants, pursuing a cutting edge career in political punditry.

All these young men are sad primarily because fame is a little harder to achieve in the real literary world than they imagined at twenty, and time is running out. They are also sad for the same reason many young people are sad, because finding love is often confounding.

But, embedded in the narrative is also a profound insight into the second generation experience of Jewish immigrants escaping Russian communism. To these young men their parents' old arguments no longer make sense, arguments about whether “Lenin was Stalin, that Breshnev was Stalin, that if you didn't think so, then you were Stalin.” The old ideology nevertheless shapes their literary heritage and aspirations, ultimately synthesizing what each becomes.

The novel points out that in the end the questions we ask ourselves determine the outcome of our lives. These young literary men ask themselves if they are good enough, strong enough, smart enough; are they right about history, Al-Shifa, the settlements, Kosovo; what if they were missing it? Their questions are not the same as their less driven counterparts who wonder where the next beer is coming from, but Sam, Mark, and Keith finally reach the optimistic conclusion that life must be lived.

Keith muses that, “The trouble is that when you’re young you don’t know enough; you are constantly being lied to, in a hundred ways, so your ideas of what the world is like are jumbled; when you imagine the life you want for yourself, you imagine things that don't exist.” He asserts that if he had only known the outcome, he would have done things all differently. But in reality, it’s doubtful that he would have changed at all, because at that age no one believes that life might throw a few curves and all things are not possible. Life is a journey that can only be lived forward and understood backward. Gessen’s characters, who believe in history and literature, embody the hopefulness of that journey.

What does a sad young literary man eat as a grad student? Gessen said he ate mostly brown bread dipped in spaghetti sauce and called it “pizza” while studying at Syracuse. So, here are a few recipes from, as Elif put it, competent young literary women who can carry their culinary weight. The first is submitted by our hometown author, Hillary Jordan, whose novel “Mudbound” is receiving rave reviews. Never forgetting her Southern roots, she used to make this delicious fried chicken as a grad student at Columbia University.

HILL’S FRIED CHICKEN
Serves 4, or 1 grad student for the better part of a week.

1 3 1/2 pound fryer, cut into pieces
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup rice flour
1 tablespoon Tony Cachere’s Creole Seasoning, or make your own mixture of equal parts sea salt, freshly ground pepper, paprika, cayenne pepper, garlic powder and cumin

vegetable oil or shortening (best, but it has those wicked trans fats)
Salt
Fresh ground pepper

Put on some appropriate Southern music, e.g. John Lee Hooker, Muddy Waters, Keb Mo, Alison Krauss, or my new friends, Hope for Agoldensummer.
Pour yourself a beer or a glass of cheap white wine.
Wash chicken and dry well with paper towels, removing any excess skin or fat.
Season with salt and pepper and let sit at room temperature for an hour.
In a large skillet, heat 1 1/2 inches of oil on medium-high to about 350° (hot enough that a pinch of flour dropped into it makes a robust sizzle).
The oil should cover the chicken about two-thirds of the way but no more.

As the oil heats, mix the flours and seasoning together in a brown paper bag or large Ziploc.
Add the dark meat and shake until well-coated.
Shake off excess flour and place skin side down in the pan. (If you're cooking more than one chicken for a large group, resist the urge to hurry the process by crowding the pan.)
Fry until skin is a lovely crisp brown, about 8-10 minutes, then turn with tongs and fry the other side, another 8 to 10 minutes.
Drain on a wire rack or on a plate covered in paper towels.
Coat and fry the white meat next, about 6-8 minutes a side for the breasts and slightly less for the wings.
Think of Dixie and not your arteries as you savor every last succulent, sinful bite.


ELIF’S BULGAR PILAF
Elif Batuman has written for Gessen’s literary review, “n+1, and The New Yorker.”
She recently completed a Ph.D. in comparative literature at Stanford University.
She has the lowdown on grad school recipes and sends these two budget-stretching dishes.

1 medium onion
Half a green pepper
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 cup bulgar
1 can diced tomatoes
1/2 teaspoon cumin
Salt and pepper to taste
1 cup chicken broth or water

Sauté an onion and half a green pepper in olive oil.
Stir in one cup of bulgur, 1 can diced tomatoes, 1/2 teaspoon cumin, salt and pepper to taste, stirring for a minute or so.
Add 1 cup broth or water and simmer until liquid is absorbed.

I ate this a lot with chickpeas (I just used canned chickpeas — sauté a small amount of finely diced onion/ garlic in olive oil, stir in some tomato paste dissolved in water, add a can of chickpeas and some cumin and paprika or chili powder and stir for a while).


PICADILLO
1 medium onion
1 clove garlic, minced
1 green pepper, chopped
1/2 to 1 pound ground beef or turkey
1 teaspoon cumin
1 teaspoon dried basil
1 teaspoon chili powder
1/4 cup sherry plus 3/4 cup water or broth
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 zucchini, finely chopped
1/4 cup chopped black currants and/or green olives
Cooked rice

Sauté onion, garlic, green peppers in olive oil.
Add ground beef or turkey, cumin, basil, and chili powder; sauté until meat is browned.
Add 1/4 cup cheap rum or cooking sherry plus 3/4 cup of water or broth with tomato paste stirred in; add some kind of fresh vegetable (raw zucchini or squash, or lightly fried eggplant), and simmer 1 hour.
Add black currants and/or green olives with pimentos.
Serve over rice.
Visit Elif’s literary blog at www.elifbatuman.com.


LUBA’S BORSCHT
Luba Golburt is professor of Slavic languages at UC Berkley and author of “The Vanishing Point: The Eighteenth Century and the Russian Historical Imagination, 1800-1850.”
She also writes for the London Review of Books and The Guardian.

2 cans red kidney beans, undrained
2 cans pickled beets, sliced julienne style
3 carrots, peeled and sliced
1 large red pepper
1 medium onion
1 tablespoon minced garlic
2 potatoes, peeled and cubed
1/2 head of cabbage
1 can Italian style tomatoes
1 bunch chopped parsley
Salt and pepper to taste
Peel and slice 3 carrots and dice a large red pepper.
Place in a pot and cover with water; bring to a boil and cook until almost tender, about 20 minutes.
Add undrained kidney beans to the pot, and turn heat to simmer.

Sauté the onion and garlic.
Add to the pot with some of the oil when golden brown.
Slice the beets and add to the pot with a little of the beet juice from the can.
Add two peeled and cubed potatoes, the cabbage, and a can of Italian style peeled tomatoes; boil over medium heat until potatoes are almost tender, about 15 minutes.
Add the chopped parsley.
Season with lots of freshly ground black pepper and salt.
Continue simmering, until the vegetables are tender and flavors are mingled, about thirty minutes to an hour.

Adapted from Luba’s original recipe to easily feed several hungry college students.