A Parisian eco-bobo who leaves to take refuge in a cabin, supposedly far from the consumer society, to spit on him, while carrying with him the products of mountains of this hated society. What a lack of consistency, and it starts from the first page: "The Heinz brand sells fifteen sauce varieties [...] Because of such things, I wanted to leave this world [...]. . I take eighteen bottles: three a month. " Spit without its own soup: it is beautiful the spoiled child thinking.
I expected a clean trip, the natural, the items on the local culture, the beauty of Siberia. Instead I have a politico-bobo cloth, filled with contradictions and sufficiency.