Fallen angels of Russian rock

Dmitry Luchikhin, philosopher

I've been on this topic for a long time. She's complicated. Not even for understanding, but for presentation. Well, if you're reading this, it means something happened.

So, fallen rebels. Revyakin, Kinchev, Shakhrin, even Yegor Letov. And questions, questions. And what would Tsoi say today, with whom would Vysotsky be?

It will take a little effort to answer them. Both me and you.

Modern humanity is exhausted under the burden of the problem of alienation. The more intelligent, thinking, complex an individual turns out to be, the more lonely and unnecessary he feels. Of course, we have learned to convince ourselves and others that we live an interesting, vibrant and eventful life. And only when the memoirs and memoirs of loved ones come out, we will find out what was really hidden under the shell of success and prosperity. Often, after an unexpectedly voluntary parting with a "beautiful" life.

Frankl identified it as the problem of the existential vacuum. Reduced to the individual, which is only partly true.

It is possible, as an illustration, to suggest a typical situation of moving from a state of success in difficult conditions to a status of marginality in comfortable ones. From the problem of interaction between primitive and highly developed cultures, to a banal job change with much better conditions, but in the role of an amateur. But this illustration is of an auxiliary nature, because here, of course, it is not a matter of an infringed sense of self-importance.

Whether we realize it or not, think or not, we experience the feeling of satisfaction, the experience of the fullness of the life we live through the experience of its meaningfulness. And the experience of meaningfulness, in turn, is a kind of mental signal that the existential is present in our life. The fact that life is open, open to the spirit, makes sense beyond the framework of life itself and its life expediency.

In historically habitual and familiar forms, such an exit to the over-life is realized in all forms of collective goals and values. From - for their homeland and faith, to - for the sake of children and grandchildren. Participation, "participation" in the universal, given through the common of a large or small multitude, has served us well for many centuries and millennia. A striking example of the modern form of "participation" in existence is volunteering, which, first of all, fills the participant's life with a sense of its meaningfulness, a meaning that is outside individual interests and benefits.

So, the “problem of the day” is actually that we no longer believe in existence through the collective, we don’t feel it directly, we don’t experience it psychologically. We imitate, imitate, push, convince ourselves and others, but psychologically we feel like a fake and an imitation. We build these wooden planes, but the beads do not appear in them.

But to consciously experience and think it in the format of individual existence, in which its authenticity is now available to us. Implement in models of horizontal interpersonal relationships. We absolutely do not know how, outside of family and intimate relationships, which are also not for everyone and not “as a rule”. What can we say about social, everyday forms of vital activity.

But, if in the civilized world this problem itself was already revealed as a result of irreversible changes in consciousness and the social logic of life, then Russia "reclined" was after another "walker", these civilizational changes themselves became available in an already formed form - "turnkey". And therefore, complete with already obvious consequences - problems.

What did the rebels who fought against the "dead house" Sovka dream about? This is clearly not about social atomization and total alienation. They, yes, and most of us, and some, contrary to the obvious and still, expected that in an existential perspective the West would turn out to be a complete analogue of its economic incarnation. Just as prosperous and prosperous.

But it was from this side that he turned out to be sick and exhausted. And this exhaustion from too rapid growth, into the world of personality literally advancing on a person - they took it for his individual traits, for characteristic, for cultural identity.

And then they rushed back, to where the memory of collective existence was still alive, and tea in ideal images, for the sake of which they and the scoop fought on the musical and poetic fronts.

And then everything is according to the canon: “they told me that this road would lead me to the ocean of death. And I turned back. Since then, everything has been stretching before me, deaf, crooked, roundabout paths.

“And he won’t stop, and he won’t change legs. Our faces are shining, our boots are sparkling”.