Only Kurkov could write this bizarre, charming, thoughtful book about a handful of oddball Lviv residents--an actress who volunteers with the poor, an ex-KGB agent and dove enthusiast, a recovering alcoholic hairdresser, aging hippie, money changer who's literally allergic to money, and most memorably a man who drives people over potholed, cobblestone roads to help them pass their kidney stones. This Kurkov-esque cast is troubled by something inexplicable happening in the city that somehow revolves around seagull attacks and the scent of the sea. Hard to describe, but utterly delightful.