Posted 26 марта 2021, 11:22
Published 26 марта 2021, 11:22
Modified 25 декабря 2022, 20:57
Updated 25 декабря 2022, 20:57
Alina Vitukhnovskaya, writer
Our literary environment, despite all the outward goodness, alas, is the most toxic. There is wild competition, and the competition is not entirely clear for what.
Russia is a literary-centric country only inertially, nominally. That is, biographies of Pushkin-Brodsky are no longer possible here. Sorokin is possible. But that's not it, is it? Or not quite? And Sorokin's biography took place only due to the fact that he managed to get on the outgoing European train.
There is no "writer-writer", just like a "poet-poet" after postmodernism, and there cannot be. It exists only in the consciousness of the local highly spiritual society, which in principle lives with impaired optics.
There is too much modernist vulnerability in the image of the poet, so I gave it up a long time ago. Although this image was imposed on me, answering the question about my childhood suffering, that it is connected only with the fact that I am a poet. Whereas it was connected with that extremely monstrous objective reality in which I was forced to be.
Only one (!) Edition mentioned that the poet who committed suicide did it because of endless financial difficulties. The rest continue to saturate the illusion of homegrown spiritual sublimity, talking about the vulnerable poetic nature.
And someone even wrote that “it’s difficult to die of hunger”, continuing the line of degradation that began in literary circles with the vulgarity “We didn’t live well, it’s not worth starting” - a phrase thrown in the hearts of someone from the PEN-Club executive committee ... Since then, PEN has changed from democratic to pro-Crimean. And the writers who remained in it, alas, spoiled their biographies and obituaries forever.
Poet Stefania Danilova at the forum of young writers in Lipki dared to ask to honor the memory of Andrei Yegorov with a minute of silence. For which she immediately underwent public obstruction. She writes:
“Then they opened my eyes, guys! They came and said that I was not Brodsky to push Nobel speeches. And in general, Andrei Yegorov is a suicide, which means that he is not worthy of the minute of silence that I arranged at the federal forum. The tragedy and reason for Andrey's suicide is that he did not have support. This can be clearly seen now, after death. We have a society not of dead poets, but of those who kill each other. Instead of flowers, we helpfully stick each other a rose of indifference in the eye and a knife of betrayal in the back. "
It is not the first time that Stephanie has been accused of either "riding the dead" or of PR on the tragedy. And in my opinion it is absolutely inappropriate. Last year, she invited me to participate in a poetry collection about the coronavirus "No Returns". And I gave my consent, despite the fact that it contains authors of political positions that are not close to me. However, I felt that the historical importance of the moment is immeasurably higher and the ongoing tragedy temporarily neutralizes all ideological differences.
A moral and ethical scandal immediately arose around the collection. Stephanie was accused - neither more nor less - of "PR on blood". Both colleagues in the shop and the pro-Kremlin media were accused.
As for me, I am not only and not so much a poet as a politician and a citizen. And in this particular situation too. No moralistic maxims or pretentiousness are allowed here. The tragedy, alas, has already happened. Moreover, it continues before our very eyes. And it cannot be hushed up. Everyone reacts differently. Journalists write articles, and poets write poetry. And that's okay. It seems to me that fear and distancing from this topic are connected, first of all, with latent, perhaps, but self-censorship, with an internal fear of being “an enemy of the people” in today's Russia, where “everything is fine” and newspapers are full of optimistic false statistics on the coronavirus.
Now a similar scandal flares up around Ksenia Sobchak, who interviewed the Skopinsky maniac Viktor Mokhov. Journalist Arina Kholina writes:
“To be honest, even writing about it is somehow terribly difficult. But the topic is important. In general, personally, I would NEVER and FOR ANYTHING would not do an interview with a maniac. Serial or simple. A maniac or a murderer must be interrogated - in order to go to jail. The perpetrator must be investigated - in order to better catch others. Where do I see the problem with the interview? That it is a peaceful genre. A genre of communication, conversation, even an argument. You cannot talk and argue with maniacs. This gratifies their vanity. During interrogation, he is scum. In interviews, he is a hero. The hero of the interview, they talk to him, they treat him politely. In films and books, a serial killer / maniac is a symbol of universal evil. Not a human. Conventionality, fear.
There is (well, there was) an unspoken rule in the media - not to publish a photo of a maniac. Only victims. In order not to indulge vanity, yes. Do not please evil. Don't give him what he wants - fame. The hero of the interview with Ksenia Sobchak, a Skopinsky maniac, got everything he wanted - simply because he was released. He received much more than he could have dreamed, for this reason alone. The interview made him a superstar. I think he is very happy. "
This is one of the many outrage posts, and perhaps not the harshest yet. But I must confess that this public condemnation of the interview seems somewhat hypocritical to me. In fact, this is the usual world journalistic practice, ordinary work, exposure, analysis and business in one bottle.
The submission form is, of course, Russian. This blue blouse. Note that the loyal Sobchak unconsciously seeks to approach the image of a Soviet aunt. This is a grimace designed to portray absent feelings. This "good" investigator is the image of a paternalistic father for the spree and foolish children - two girls victims.
Etc. Etc. The only but. Sobchak did not break the bottom. Here, again, she does nothing special. The whole of Russia has broken through the bottom. And the "transfer of arrows" to "bad Sobchak" is nothing more than a repressive transfer. And the maniac is a typical elderly Russian of our time. There are about a dozen of them in every home. And at someone's and behind the wall . You just don't know everyone. Or rather, you don’t want to know.
The sadistic nature of the moralists is also interesting. “The maniac should not be judged and investigated, but certainly killed”, they say. Holy "liberal" Inquisition in action! In fact, we are talking not only about people's passion for execution, as an opportunity to experience some kind of social relief, but also about a direct declaration of an essentially infantile desire - that someone should answer for them. In general, this obsessive passion will certainly look good, it suggests that something is wrong with you.
It is an empty idea to find out the nature of evil. Evil is subtle. Even the sophisticated and existential "Outsider" is written so that the reader understands that those who exist beyond the social (even!) Imprints cannot be punished.
They write that the Skopinsky maniac is happy with fame. How do you know how he feels? He is ontologically Other. This is even clearer in The Mechanical Orange. About the conformity of the subject to its nature. And not about morality. If anyone did not understand. But nobody understood.
In general, this is the trend of the new Middle Ages. When the crowd, nibbling seeds, is seeking a public execution, albeit for such a specific person as Mokhov. In fact, it demands extrajudicial violence.
I think the old man is crazy. And a place for him in the clinic. In general, following mass logic, we come to the conclusion that we are giving state criminals more and more powers, moreover, in the name of morality, which we ignore in relation to themselves and society as a whole.