In The First Circle by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

In The First Circle was one of my favorite by Solzhenitsyn. The book tells of a few days in the lives of a few prisoners in a special prison, or sharashka. Outside the prison is a man named Innokenty Volodin, who works for the government. He learns of the construction of an atom bomb, and immediately reports it to the American authorities in an attempt to prevent its use. The call is intercepted, but Volodin escapes. The prisoners in a special branch of the sharashka receive orders to find who made the call by the voice.
But, on the whole, the book was less about catching Innokenty, and more, as all great books are, about communicating a deeper meaning to the reader. Solzhenitsyn, himself once a prisoner, causes the reader to feel the emotions felt by prisoners, no matter how green or how seasoned. The hopelessness they feel, the isolation. Against the stark background of the prisons of Soviet Russia, he shows the innate strength that hardship brings out in us all.

Cancer Ward by Aleksandr I. Solzhenitsyn

'On top of everything, the cancer wing was number 13.'  This was the first sentence in Cancer Ward, my second-favorite Solzhenitsyn. I spent the day I finished it reflecting. The ending was surprising as well as. . . well, confusing, but it was, I admit, a fitting ending.
The book begins with a man who might be considered a main character, though not the protagonist, entering the cancer ward. He is an official in the Soviet government of 1955, and a thoroughly annoying, though lovable, character. The rest of the book is mainly the relationships between the people in the ward, as well as the deaths of patients and philosophical and political discussions.
I noticed marked similarities between Kostoglotov, the protagonist, and Vorotyntsev, the protagonist in August 1914, and I believe that these were both very similar characters to the writer himself, as Solzhenitsyn was in a cancer ward for a time.
This was a very deep and moving book, certainly one of my favorites.

August 1914 by Alexandr I. Solzhenitsyn

August 1914, as the author says in the beginning, '. . . comprises only the first part, or fascicle, of of a work in many parts. Therefore, it makes no pretense at completeness, even in the development of its characters: except for the operations of Samsonov's army, this is only the initial presentation of a larger work. The whole work, however, may take as long as twenty years, and probably I will not live to finish it. Given the difficulty of retelling history, I need, as the work progresses, the cooperation of readers who still remember the period. That is why I have decided to publish in fascicles, or a series of volumes'. This proves to be true, as it leaves several loose ends with characters and subplots, and I'm not quite sure what book comes next; it may be November 1916.

This book centres on the campaign of the Second Army, in the area of Tannenberg, Prussia, during, as the title indicates, August 1914. The Second Army is led by General Samsonov, a rather pathetic, plodding character from which reality is withheld by those below him in rank. A few characters are introduced near the beginning of the book who have nothing to do with the army, but are mostly peasants on the steppes. These are the loose ends of the book, seemingly forgotten throughout and reintroduced in the last few chapters. 

An officer from General Headquarters is sent to Second Army to assess the situation, a certain Colonel Vorotyntsev, who ties most of the very segregated subplots together. He is young and uncorrupted by rank and achievements, and belongs to a very small group of characters that can actually be related to. 

The campaign is quite complex and would take a more lengthy explanation than I can give, but Solzhenitsyn does it quite clearly, though it takes 622 pages, making August 1914 the second-longest book I have ever read, bested in length only by War and Peace. It is also one of the best I have ever read.

I will also note that my edition had a map of the area of Tannenberg as an insert, without which the plot would have been entirely lost to me.