Alexander Ageev. Hunger 19

Hunger 19
Practical gastroenterology reading

Alexander Ageev

Publication date: March 13, 2001

From time to time, like any normal writer, I have an almost irresistible desire to write a manifesto. A manifesto is not only a “new word”, but also a kind of canon, a professional standard. A critic must be able to write manifestos, just as a rock musician must reproduce some Slippin' And Slidin' or Matchbox close to the original.

In Russia, this canon was set by Merezhkovsky a long time ago, and try to prove that in any of the decades that have passed since 1893 it was impossible to write a text entitled “On the causes of the decline and on new trends in modern Russian literature . ”

And even insert into it without changes the words of the original: “The predominant taste of the crowd is still realistic. Artistic materialism corresponds to scientific and moral materialism. The vulgar side of negation, the absence of a higher ideal culture, civilized barbarism among the grandiose inventions of technology - all this has left a peculiar stamp on the attitude of the modern crowd to art . many pages, and even towards the end something completely modern will take over: “like the thin walls of an alabaster amphora in which a flame is lit.” " And so - many , But this is not about the Amphora publishing house, this is about the style of the then “new trends”.

In a word, as you emerge from the routine thanks to the holiday, as you look around in amazement, as you realize for the umpteenth time the “reasons for the decline” (and at the same time the eternal insignificance of “new trends” ), your hands are itching to write a manifesto.

Throughout the 90s, I had a note wandering from one notebook to another: “Project of Russian Literature.” Thank God, my own sluggishness saved me from inevitable embarrassment every time, and one of my more efficient colleagues was ahead of the curve, publishing his manifesto or even “project”, for a long time discouraging my desire to manifest and project anything. I remember once in Znamya they even included my “Project” in the plan for the next issue (and I immediately became sad, anticipating the painful process of translating vague dreams into clear formulations), but almost the next day salvation came in the person of Vladimir Novikov and his article "Jump", where the second part was called "Russian literature in 2017".

Which solved the problem that almost brought itself to my head.

Just the other day, merciless invective and goal-directing imperatives began to take shape in my head (well, sometimes the demon confuses experienced observers), and I looked at Observer - and my soul felt relief. This time, the tireless Lev Pirogov (has a month passed since his lunchtime speech?) freed me from menial, thankless work.

Of course, I would have written something meaningfully different, but between you and me, the content of any manifesto can be safely neglected: each one has a mournful (or boorish) statement part and, figuratively speaking, an invitation card.

I read the mournful ascertaining part performed by Pirogov with the rare pleasure of a specialist: well, it’s as if Judas Priest performed Chuck Berry’s classic composition Johnny B. Goode - it’s the same thing, but with the convincing power of a steam hammer. Bravo, Leo! Laconic, clear, to the point. I strongly agree!

And I read the “invitation card” and - alas - I remember a common joke: “I’m exchanging a specialist in know how for a specialist in know why.” The only difference is that Pirogov doesn’t know how or why, but he knows where. Where, that is, the desired “new trends” should flourish. See the arrow at the top: “You are here.”

In the Internet.

And then it finally dawns on me, an old cynic, what a pure, world-trusting, ideally tuned generation has once again grown up.

The Internet, this dirty cesspool of post-industrial society, the Internet, which instantly reproduced the entire authoritarian structure of offline culture, still seems to them a clean field for selfless experimentation! “Don’t wake her up at dawn,” let her wake up on her own.

No, am I against it? The Internet is a wonderful thing, it has once again launched the devaluing mechanism of freedom: such a monstrous, everything-sucking and digesting turbine is humming, a fair and perfect system for distributing any product of spiritual production.

But it can only produce itself. As is freedom. It seems that Mamardashvili said that freedom produces only freedom - even greater freedom.

In a word, I was stuck on all these banalities, and I thought that soon all sorts of forbidden “zones” would begin to be created on the Internet, pioneers would “take their lights” into some next catacombs, alternative networks with limited access would arise (fortunately, technically all it’s simple) and in general all the prescribed ritual dances will be performed anew.

And Lev Pirogov will stand at the head of some environmentally friendly, super-underground Internet movement, will grow wild bohemian hair and will sing - in choir with like-minded people at secret gatherings - sacred songs of Marc Bolan instead of prayers and mantras. Well, something like:

I love the way you walk
Don't you know you're a cool motivator
Love the way you walk
Love the way you walk I love the way your eye
It doth shine like an Egyptian ruby
Love the way it shines
Love the way it shines
Shine on.

Pirogov loves the over-the-top Marc Bolan...

Well, in short, once again I didn’t write a manifesto - and that’s great. There is more time left for careful reading of the absolutely furious - where are all the radical manifestos put together - Boris Dubin's book "Word - Writing - Literature" , which was recently published by "UFO".

It’s surprising why our “educated community” has not yet thought of hiring a killer to strangle the kind Boris Vladimirovich in some secluded corner. Because I don’t know a more merciless and ruthless exposer and denouncer of this community. In essence, this book with a deceptively academic title is a fearless chronicle of the dissolution of the former “elite” into the “mass,” a sad story about how its “holy place,” contrary to the proverb and despite the clumsy bustle of applicants, remains “empty.”

To all adherents of the “specialness” of the Internet, to all free journalists of the glossy and matte press, I strongly recommend reading at least one article from this book - “Circle banter and mass communications: towards the sociology of cultural transition.” In addition to various useful things for cultural self-identification, it also says this: “the leading groups in Russian society in education and qualifications in the current (and is it only in the current?) situation carry out not innovative, but routinizing functions. If we also remember the intermediate position of their position , its constant consciousness and projection into group manifestations, then we can say that in the sociological sense of the word they do not belong to the elite . "

And if someone is not afraid of the tongue-tied metalanguage in which (now I understand - for reasons of personal safety!) Dubin speaks, then it will be useful to read the final article in the collection (very sad) - “Cultural reproduction and cultural dynamics in Russia 1990 's years." It was posted on the UFO website in a prominent place, but for some reason it was quickly put away in the archives . I will quote only one phrase from the “Conclusion”:

“Leisure activities, everyday tastes, and evaluative standards of educated Russians - when we are not talking about the demonstrative defense of former collective symbols and relics - have noticeably moved closer to the usual level of the average consumer, and often with the most conservative and routine stereotypes . ”

This, so to speak, goes to the question of why I personally don’t like talking about the “mainstream”, I don’t like Slava Kuritsyn when he tremblingly adapts himself for the “average consumer”, I don’t like Zakharov’s projects and other pop music that is complacent (and then almost with pathos) “educated Russians” “allowed” themselves.

No, manifestos are still needed. Let Pirogov, while still young, write a manifesto a week - on which something truly inspiring should appear!