Kirill Kutalov-Postoll. Take two

Take two - take two
Kirill Kutalov-Postoll

Date of publication: October 23, 2000

What is happening can be described as a doubling of essences, which from the point of view of the Gnostics is sin, but from the point of view of everyone else it is not such and, therefore, does not seem to exist; at least not identifiable.

However, they double. At this point it would be appropriate to provide a link to a text by one of the veterans, in which the nature of the network will be described as exactly that, that is, producing duplicates and reflections, something exclusively paranoid, pseudo-neo-gnostic, tied to literature on the network, but this text does not suit me is known, I even suspect that it does not exist at all, so there is no link. But this, in principle, does not matter.

I know that my party comrades will not forgive and in the near future I am threatened with nothing less than a revolutionary tribunal, but I cannot remain silent. The promised Eurasian super-novel by Helm Van Zaichik, announced on the Observer, affected Krusanov and froze. While frozen, they promise a continuation. At the same time, let us remember: what unpleasantly surprised the unbiased (or “irrelevant”, as they say on the Observer) reader in Krusanov? I was surprised - to say the least - by the absence of an ending, which, coupled with the general exclusively literary - to say the least: graphomaniac - pathos, gave a strange effect of the published draft of the novel from the 15th volume of the PSS. In the sense that the point was not to write a novel, but precisely in the notorious Eurasianism (about which, by the way, after Van Zaychik I understand even less than before - this is either when the Chinese conquer everyone, or something like this; in any case, it’s somehow alarming). The moment of releasing something terrible and ferocious from some test tube turned into nothing. Is this what we expect from Van Zaychik? It's scary to think about. Of course not that. However, again, alarming symptoms do not allow me to sleep peacefully - thick Chinese fenya and “piju” instead of “beer”. (One thing is at least pleasing: now no one will tell us that we are all about beer and about beer - now we will be all about pizza and about pizza, and in place of “... your mother” who no longer cares about anything and anyone sacramental “amitofo!”) In a word, your Vonzaychik doesn’t stick anything. Doesn't insert that is.

Or, on the contrary, it inserts, but not at all as expected. Much stronger, I mean. That’s precisely what he puts in that is dear to the heart, like a good spoon for dinner. After all, what do we have now? We have nothing now, but there are a lot of bonuses. We must give. Because not giving bonuses means destroying the weak and pale shoots of the literary process ( Lev , did I understand everything correctly?). Later they will write about the fact that a) they began to write novels for prizes, b) they began to make prizes for novels (or rather, they continued, because nothing else happened). Some will write, others will answer, lo and behold, an environment will be created, saline solution, oxygen, leeches, and then ten years will pass and it will be possible to turn off the artificial respiration machine. In any case, after ten years it will need to be turned off.

In short, negotiations are underway.

Doubles are mainly of two types. The first type - those who seem to be similar in appearance, like Krusanov and Van Zaychik, but at the same time, those about whom in fact you cannot say with certainty whether they are doubles or just a disguise. The second type is real doubles, who outwardly are completely different from each other, but in essence there is one person (like Jekyll and Hyde), and I first heard the word alter ego in a pioneer camp and that’s why I don’t like it.

Among the second type of doubles, Bakhyt Kenzheev was noted at the end of last week.

There are actually at least two (or even three) Bakhyt Kenzheevs. One is known somewhat more widely than the other, it is here , and it would be unnecessary to talk about it, since it is conventional. At the same time, another, occasional Bakhyt Kenzheev is sometimes observed; The last time he met was on the pages, as they once wrote in history textbooks, of the “extreme right-wing, reactionary” sheet “Literary Diary”. This Bakhyt Kenzheev is here . Not at all like the conventional Kenzheev. Bileful, irritated, one cannot even call it polemical, since the scope of the polemic is constantly expanding, asymptotically approaching abuse:

“It’s not for nothing that we are increasingly moving into the “virtual world”, where instead of simple, centuries-accumulated folk values, sex and sexual debauchery, lack of culture and cosmopolitanism reign!

And, in fact, the point is not what reigns where (I no longer have the strength to write about how strange it is, to put it mildly, and simply how stupid a sermon about the dangers of the Internet, read from the screen, looks like). The essence is in the conflict itself: writer A reprimands writer B on the basis that writer A did not like the newspaper interview of writer B, in which B talks about his new book. How cute is such a little thing. Which, of course, suggests that the average (or “irrelevant”) reader again does not know the whole background. But I have to watch the fight, because there’s nothing else to watch.

My point is that most likely Bakhyt Kenzheev did not write this at all. Not the author of " Writer of the Stars ." This is, most likely, Kenzheev’s Hyde, better known in the world as Device Repair , or, if in mind, fun and, as it seemed then, a certain creative register was effortlessly used by the writer. Involved, by the way, in a completely online way - with the help of a virtual character. In this sense, I do not see a fundamental difference between Repair Priborov and Bayan Shiryanov; even the word formation principle underlying the composition of names is practically the same for them. But Shiryanov, as we know, died, and everyone could freely pour out the feelings they had formed on this occasion, but Priborov did not. Priborov remained to live, although, probably, a secret life, and at a time when Bakhyt Kenzheev was probably no longer remembered more about him, suddenly came out into the world, delighting the public and personally Mikhail Shishkin with an open letter signed by Bakhyt Kenzheev.

However, everything that is said here may have a much more prosaic origin, but even in this case the incident has nothing to do with the poet Kenzheev, but with the extensive literary syndicate "Babylon", whose plans, naturally, do not include staying on the sidelines at that difficult hour for the homeland (or Motherland), when the fate of the vodka prize is being decided, one of the contenders for which is Mikhail Shishkin. In this case, Bakhyt Kenzheev was simply misled, making him a tool in the hands of the LitPR monsters. I just want to exclaim, filled with righteous anger: who are you with, masters of culture, amitofo?

This is about the literary process. Now a little about literature. Reviews of poetry on the Observer, barely having time to begin, entered a qualitatively new stage - the patriarch of Russian criticism, Danila Davydov, who, in addition to being a critic, was also a poet, fell another victim in the fatal struggle. Reviewed Danila here .

"Periphery" was updated again (not even a week has passed). The “Castoprav Manifesto” was continued - the still unknown comrades in arms decided, as far as I understand, to speak out on all points. We started, naturally, with death and literature.

"Fear makes the snail hide in its shell. Numbing fear makes people snails. We open these shells, as a ten-year-old boy would do, to get to the bottom of life. Fear is passivity. A passive person is a dead man."

On the same site is the prose of Yana Yuzvak, after reading which it became clear to me that the “Periphery” are comrades in arms. I don’t know yet whether this is clear to them, as well as to their senior comrades .

“On a crackling radio it was recently announced that the Adamites, soon ashamed of their worship, began to strip the bark from the yohimbe trees and make boats from it with an odd number of standing places. They positioned themselves in them so that one place always remained unoccupied, and sailed away with the goal of getting lost. Lost."

"Mitin Magazine" posted the text of Marusya Klimova " Airborne Forces Day ". An excerpt from the novel, also known as a film review (it has nothing to do with Pavel Andreev’s novel “Day of the Airborne Forces”). Long nights of reflection led to the conclusion that without the following phrase (the necessary words are highlighted by me), the text would have no meaning at all. This, by the way, also relates to the question of the doubling of essences, as well as in general to the topic of meaning and significance, in which pair, as is known, the first member is a rudiment of damned modernism, and the second is totality.

“The action of the film unfolded with virtually no dialogue, only random remarks and exclamations, in general, although the film was clearly a play, it was stylized as a documentary .”

Further - according to the text.