A central motif in The House on the Embankment is the challenge of reconstructing the past, which is depicted through a narrative that oscillates across different time frames. The past, though elusive and subject to changing interpretations, leaves a "skeletal pattern" that persists through time. This theme is intricately developed through the use of two narrators, offering a multifaceted perspective on past events. Glebov's internal reflections are interwoven with the narrator's somewhat detached and occasionally ironic viewpoint, as well as the narrator's personal irritation with Glebov. This narrative complexity underlines the inherent difficulty in pinpointing the true beginning of any situation.

For instance, Glebov's seemingly incidental encounter with Lev occurs not in the present moment but two years prior to his meeting his mother on a train. Consequently, the narrative's action seems to revolve around instances of being snubbed—first by Lev and subsequently by Glebov's mother. Lev's yearning for a miracle at the conclusion, which parodies the idealistic conclusions typical of Socialist Realism, is paradoxically situated in the past. The novel invites readers to piece together the sequence of events and assess their significance, engaging them in the intricate process of reconstructing the narrative's chronology and meaning.

The brutalization of life during Stalin's regime is a persistent and oppressive theme intricately woven into the fabric of "The House on the Embankment." This harsh reality permeates Glebov's childhood and youth, lurking as a constant, sinister threat. The pervasive atmosphere of fear, hypocrisy, compromise, betrayal, and guilt is an insidious effect of the regime's oppression. These elements manifest vividly through various events and conflicts, serving as metaphors for the broader political struggles of the time.

Among these metaphoric struggles is the boys' war with the Deryugin Street gang. This seemingly minor childhood skirmish symbolizes the broader atmosphere of conflict and survival that characterizes Stalin's era. Similarly, the literary battles of the 1920s, fiercely contested by Ganchuk, echo the intellectual and ideological clashes that defined much of the cultural landscape under the regime. The intrigue and plotting at the Institute further mirror the pervasive climate of suspicion and betrayal that marked the era's social and political life.

The narrative reaches a pivotal moment with the brief yet significant mention of Stalin’s funeral, symbolizing the end of an epoch. This transition brings about the rehabilitation of Lev’s real father, the fall from grace of his second stepfather, and the reinstatement of Ganchuk. These shifts underscore the arbitrary and often precarious nature of positions and reputations under Stalin's rule. Against this backdrop, Glebov’s behavior, though unethical, emerges as a comprehensible response to the oppressive and morally compromising environment in which he was forced to navigate his life.

The towering gray apartment house that loomed over Glebov’s childhood embodies the cold, oppressive nature of the Stalinist regime. Its somber and forbidding facade serves as a stark representation of the era's authoritarianism, instilling a sense of intimidation and control. Yet, beneath this austere exterior lies a world of contradictions. Within the walls of this formidable structure, the privileged few—members of the Communist bourgeoisie—revel in clandestine opulence. They soak in luxuries that starkly contrast with the regime's public ideals, offering a glimpse into the hypocrisy that underpins the facade of austerity, where power and privilege quietly whisper amid the echoes of conformity.

The intricate layers of Dostoevski's Crime and Punishment find echoes in various literary works, notably in The House on the Embankment. The presence of a character named Sonya in both narratives serves as a point of convergence, embodying compassion amidst moral chaos. In Crime and Punishment , Sonya...