Hyperion [moscow]


By Marfa Nekrasova
translated by Nathan Jeffers

The word Hyperion has many possible meanings; it can refer to a book, a poem, a tree, a spaceship, one of the 12 Titans, or even one of Saturn’s moons. However, ask a Muscovite about Hyperion and the reply you will most likely hear will lead you to a bookstore. What you will find is not so much a small back-alley bookshop, stuffed from floor to ceiling with dusty books, but rather a straight up book megastore.

The fact that this bookstore is located in a former house of Culture (a Soviet institution used to host performances and other large gatherings) means it is doomed to have an enduring ‘underground’ vibe. The space of the house of Culture has been used over the past three years in an increasingly strange assortment of ways. Moscow’s creative youth has been opening (and closing) shops, cafés and studios, as well as running workshops for connoisseurs of modern art.

It was with both their own creative ambitions, and a respect for the Soviet past, that Hyperion’s founders set about opening its doors to the public. On the lawn by the entrance they built a sandbox, scattered with toys, so as to allow parents to peruse the store’s shelves freely. Benches have been installed to accommodate browsers who wish to have a smoke break, and above the entrance hangs a realistic raven carved from wood (after the dove, the raven is Moscow’s favorite bird). Two more things that grab one’s attention are the unexpectedly large collection of children’s books and the fact that in every book there is a Hyperion Ex Libris, the design of which every book-lover is invited to submit an entry in an on-going competition.

Inside Hyperion, near the well-chosen and carefully arranged books, are handmade decorations, postcards, and store-branded mugs featuring hidden patterns that only reveal themselves upon coming in contact with hot liquid. From these mugs one can sip tea while sitting and reading on one of the many ottomans.

In the evenings, Hyperion takes on a more social atmosphere offering readings and concerts by talented, though perhaps not well-known, performers. Further included in Hyperion’s evening repertoire are classes on fruit-preserve making, the Japanese art of flower arrangement (Ikebana), and nights for young poets. So if you ever happen to find yourself in Moscow’s Kitai Gorod region, then it would undoubtedly be worth your while to pop in and see for yourself one of the most welcoming and increasingly popular bookstores in Moscow. That, and to drink tea out of a transforming mug, of course.

read this also in Russian

Marfa NekrasovaMarfa Nekrasova was born in Moscow. She is an art critic and historian for GITIS, the Academy of Theatrical Arts in Moscow. She has participated in archeological expeditions in the Ukraine, like the Church of the Diezmos in Kiev and Beliaus, the Greek-Scythian settlement in Crimea. She has written for various Moscow media venues and published a guide about secret places in Moscow. Attracted by Latin American cinema, she moved to Buenos Aires to study screenwriting in the Eliseo Subiela film school. She translates contemporary theater plays from Russian and is organizing the Rantes short film festival.
Jeffers photoNathan Jeffers is a 23-year-old who lives in Tashkent (the Paris of Central Asia) and whose paint covered shirts and chalk dusted trousers bear witness to the daily onslaught of wrathful 3-year-olds. He holds degrees from both Sheffield and Cambridge Universities, adores Russia and can never remember his dreams.

Published on November 19th of 2013 in Shelf Love, Tongue Ties.

[ + bar ]

Bellatin and Japan: an Interview

Mat Chiappe translated by Anna Hardin

Mario Bellatin once said to me: “I don’t want to go to Japan.” I don’t know if we went on talking... Read More »

Your Lying Cheater’s Heart

Carmen María Machado

Junot Díaz’s This is How You Lose Her as a Confessional Text

The confessional text—either an author baring his own soul, or a... Read More »

Ada Limón


The Problem with Travel

Every time I’m in an airport, I think I should drastically change my life: Kill the kid stuff, start to act my numbers, set fire to the clutter and creep... Read More »

The Invisible Mourner

Ken Harvey

Gordon’s cold had gone deeper, his breathing raspy and heavy.  He had just made an appointment to see his doctor later that afternoon... Read More »

» subscribe!