Despite its epic and fabulous nature, Ilya Boyashov’s novel is completely devoid of final morality. The monk and the rogue are in continuous wandering: one strives to get to Holy Rus', the other to the land of Veseliya. But both paths lead nowhere. Alexey the monk, God's chosen one, does not find holiness in monasteries and churches; Alexey the rogue, the great buffoon, does not find recognition for his cheerful gift. Both the one who consoles and the one who amuses are equally expelled from everywhere. It just so happened that if you don’t have enough suffering, then they won’t write any epics about you, and counting on something more, tangible is completely ridiculous - there was no point in being born with intelligence and talent in Russia then...