About the book: year / No, don’t think about it, I’m not an alcoholic. It’s just that I’m kind of Russian, and any Russian drinks vodka (diluted alcohol) by the glass. So we tasted it authoritatively and, waking up from a hangover, I realized that I had gotten drunk somewhere about 300 years into the past. It's not my fault, it happened that way! Having become a victim and finding myself in the body of the son of a boyar (a petty nobleman, that is) Dmitry Kistenev, I immediately realized, having first shed light on myself as a sinner, that, firstly, I had found myself in an era of radical reforms and the same radical careers, and secondly, no one this career won't last for me.