squeak in the circle of blue above” (Pancake,
1983, p. 39). Mine is a closed space, “a world of
twenty yards” (Pancake, 1983, p. 42), which the
protagonist’s life is linked to in the same way he
is linked to the locality around it. He gets stuck
in the “deep tunnels” feeding him and shaping
the mode of living of people around (Pancake,
1983, p. 39) The dark colour of the mine
dominates, being represented in the dust sprayed
by wind (Pancake, 1983, 39), “the sweet tobacco
juice” (Pancake, 1983, p. 40), “the raw dirty
faces” (Pancake, 1983, p. 41), “coal splinters”
in the air (Pancake, 1983, 41), “the coal face”
(Pancake, 1983, p. 41), ‘the dust in up-down
streams” (Pancake, 1983, 42), the cold air,
“sealing the dirt to his skin” (Pancake, 1983,
p. 42), the hollow of the night (Pancake, 1983,
p. 43). Thus, the darkness transforms into the
hollowness, physical and emotional. The
semiotic circles of the dark restricted space
extend to the hollowness of the place, left by the
girl the protagonist loves, Sally. Thus, the filled-
with-objects-space develops into an empty,
hollow one, which can be defined as atopy
(Palaguta, 2008, p. 2) or non-site (Ozhe, 2017,
p. 136). The vehicle in the story is viewed not as
an escapist device like it is in “Trilobites”, but as
a tool of restoration the past, called to return the
lost elements and people back into their native
topographic parameters: ““Sal's gone, yes, she
is. Yes, she is. Couple of months, an' we'll show
her, yes we will.” He saw himself in Charleston,
in the Club, then taking Sally home in his new
car” (Pancake, 1983, p. 50).
The protagonist of “Hollow” is a person of
reversed perception. Lotman associates the
closed space with darkness, whereas sunshine
and light are linked to freedom. Pancake’s
character relates to darkness and coal dust. His
mode of life, inherited from his father, links him
to the dust of the mine, making it a constant part
of his personal space. The sunlight and the “new
shoes”, on the contrary, get associated with
funerals (Pancake, 1983, p. 45), the killing of a
deer (Pancake, 1983, p. 51), a blood-thirsty cat
and a dog at home (Pancake, 1983, p. 52).
According to Lotman, “memories” is a
reconstruction of the semiotic entity by its
particles (Lotman, 1992, p. 18). The story rests
on retrospection (“Musta been sixty years ago”
(Pancake, 1983, p. 40)) and the present locality,
which the main character wants to preserve.
The plot of “A Room Forever” is based on the
balance between the stability of the universe
around the protagonist-narrator and an eight-
dollar room on New Year, embodying the
temporal toponymy built by the man: “I see the
river in patches between buildings, and the
black joints of river are frosted by this foggy
rain. But on the river it's always the same.
Tomorrow starts another month on the river,
then a month on land - only the tales we tell will
change, wrap around other times and other
names” (Pancake, 1983, p. 53). Thus, the space
is linked to time, which reflects the thesis by
Toporov, who believes that “the center of the
space is the center of time. <…> every full-
fledged description of space presupposes the
definition “here – now”, and not just “here” (as
well as the definition of time is not only focused
on “now”, but on “now – here”)” (Toporov,
1983, p. 223). If the natural space equals the
eternity, the man-constructed world is marked by
finitude. The personal stories are numerous and
alike, coming in succession against the
background, bigger than them.
The parameters of the town in the story,
represented by the streets, the Delmar, the bar on
First Avenue, the smoke of the lobby, the row of
crowded taverns with hardened people’s
destinies inside shrink to the protagonist’s room
“with a kid playing a whore” (Pancake, 1983,
p. 58). The girl is viewed as an alien for the town
element, which is traced in the details of her
portrait: “I can tell right off she is not a chippy.
Her front is more like a kid who had a home once
- jeans, a real raincoat, a plastic scarf on her
head. And she is way too young for this town - the
law won't put up with fresh chicken in this place”
(Pancake, 1983, p. 55). The girl doesn’t belong
to the place or the profession of a hooker: “You
aren’t cut out for this” (Pancake, 1983, p. 57).
The room as a locus for New Year entertainment
could transform into a topos able to save one
destiny: “No, it's just I need a place. I got
to stop moving around, you know?” (Pancake,
1983, p. 57). This room is a sort of a place inside
a bigger space, a town, which is, in turn, inside
of the huge eternal topography. The room forms
a special shelter for two perfect strangers,
creating a heterotopia, “a peculiar space inside of
the common social spaces” familiar to the
protagonist, but not to the girl (Palaguta, 2008).
The mirror serves as a symbol of meeting, as the
holder of the story shared only by two. The
absence of the girl in the mirror at the end of “A
Room Forever” celebrates her escapism,
unnoticeable for the others: “I look for her in
the mirror but she is gone. I would have seen
her going out the front, so I head for the back
door to look for her. She is sitting against a
building in the rain, passed out cold. When I
shake her, I see that she has cut both wrists down
to the leaders, but the cold rain has clotted the