The Quarry is a literary historical crime novel set around an Absheron stone quarry and the shifting criminal and political world of late Soviet Azerbaijan. It follows the rise and decline of Sani Absheronski, a legendary “thief in law,” and his uneasy rivalry with Malikajdar, the village “Aga” who builds an empire on fish, flowers, and quiet deals with generals. Around them orbit people like disabled ex dancer Maria, her sharp granddaughter Samaya, and Malikajdar’s son Hatam, whose secret love affair ties the families together. The story moves from the 1950s settlement days, through prison intrigues and black market schemes, to a violent tangle of betrayals that ends in Sani’s murder and the silence of Black January settling over Baku.

I felt like I was being let into a long, layered village conversation, where one story leads into another, and nobody ever starts at the real beginning. The writing has that oral, “come closer, let me tell you” feeling, especially in Maria’s long confession about the war, exile, and how she ended up in the quarry and in Sani’s bed. I sometimes got a bit lost in the flood of names and nicknames, and the translation keeps some awkward turns of phrase, but it also preserves the local flavor, the mix of Azerbaijani, Russian, and Tatar criminal slang. The novel is most alive when people are talking around a table, passing tea and money and half truths. As a literary historical crime novel, it moves more by memory and gossip than by big set-piece scenes, which makes the world feel lived in, even when the timeline slips, and I had to mentally backtrack.

I liked how the book keeps rubbing together the sacred and the dirty. Malikajdar runs a sanctuary and hires boats, bribes a general and still worries about who gets his blessing. Maria loses her legs to the saws of the quarry and then drags herself from shrine to shrine, trying to bargain with God for a different ending to her life. Samaya holds up the whole fragile family and still gets pulled into an affair that can only hurt her. The author keeps asking small, human questions inside big historical ones. What does loyalty look like when your “brothers” are criminals. How far can kindness go in a corrupt system before it breaks. By the time Sani is shot by a man calling him “brother,” and the crash and the roar of military planes fade into the bloody quiet of Black January, the metaphor is not subtle, but it is effective. Personal feuds feel tiny against the weight of tanks, yet the book insists they matter.

The Quarry is not a sleek thriller, and if you want a fast, twisty crime plot, this will probably feel slow and heavy. But if you are up for a grounded, talkative, sometimes messy literary historical crime novel that opens a window on late Soviet Azerbaijani life, with all its compromises and quiet courage, The Quarry is worth the time. I would especially recommend it to readers who enjoy character-focused sagas, who do not mind following a big cast across decades, and to anyone curious about how crime, family, and politics get tangled together on the margins of empire.

Pages: 229 | ASIN : B0882YSFVB