Taxied

Three “big books” named

The second season of the “Big Book” award ended with the awarding of Lyudmila Ulitskaya (“Daniel Stein, translator.” – M., “Eksmo”, 2006; first prize), Alexey Varlamov (“Alexey Tolstoy.” – M., “Young Guard” ", series "ZhZL"; second prize) and Dina Rubina ("On the sunny side of the street." - M., "Eksmo", 2006; third prize). The verdict of the Literary Academy (a panel of judges consisting of more than a hundred people who assign points to applicants - from 0 to 10 - in secret voting ballots) almost coincided with the “popular opinion”: readers who voted on the Internet gave first place to Ulitskaya , the second - to Rubina, and the third to Viktor Pelevin (“Empire V” - M., “Eksmo”, 2006). I think that in the main competition Pelevin was not far behind the champions, but the online success of a powerfully promoted writer, who always (and in his last novel for today) accurately guesses the mood and aspirations of our society, is quite natural.

The results of the competition are not only logical, but also gratifying. Ulitskaya's novel can (and does) cause various kinds of criticism - both theological (with an inevitable transition into the spheres of ethics and religious politics) and aesthetic. But it is difficult to deny the obvious: the book, whose circulation amounts to hundreds of thousands of copies and continues to be printed, has been read and is being read by a huge audience. It is possible (some would say it is necessary) to think about the big questions raised by Ulitskaya differently than the author, and enter into polemics with him. I understand and largely share the judgments of Ulitskaya’s opponents. However, before declaring a position on a particular problem (religious, historical, national, ethical, etc.), we must realize that this problem exists, and not as some kind of, albeit curious, abstraction, but as an integral component of our life. Those who are accustomed to thinking about God, freedom and responsibility, the church and the position of man in it, interfaith tension, belonging to a nation and nationalism, the cataclysms of the twentieth century, the temptations of fanaticism and indifference, can probably do without Ulitskaya’s book. But, alas, there are never so many such people, and readers of the novel about a strange righteous man somehow came into contact with fundamental issues. I admit that the book will set some of them on a heretical wave (which is not at all necessary), but by wandering, you can pave the way to the truth, and if you are content with thoughtlessness, you will remain with it. Just as Bykov’s biography of Pasternak, which won the main award last year, was not addressed primarily to literary historians, so Ulitskaya’s novel is not addressed to theologians (including secular ones). The success of these books among the public (which, in my opinion, is more important than the prize, and largely determined it) makes us look with hope at the writing community (if there are writers who believe it is necessary and know how to talk about serious things not only “in their own circle” , then they should appear in the future), and on a society capable of preferring a soul-tugging and thought-stimulating book to aggressive hawker products.

I don’t know whether the circulation of Varlamov’s book will now increase (I would like to), but this artistically and tactfully written biography has been awarded, in my opinion, deservedly. Alexei Tolstoy has always been deeply antipathetic to me both as a person (even though he did not consider himself a pure villain) and as a writer (although I love Nikita’s Childhood). It’s not that Varlamov convinced me, but after his book I wanted to reread and rethink the works of the “red count”. The biographer managed to show a living and, contrary to prevailing stereotypes, a by no means happy and not very successful person, deeply devoted to literature and capable of maintaining charm even in ugliness and baseness. Varlamov does not hide Tolstoy’s bad deeds, but he also does not reduce his bright hero to them; the biographer does not “whitewash” him, but explains him, which is hardly possible without sincere sympathy for the creator of “Walking Through Torment” and “The Golden Key”. The fact that for the second time among the winners of the “Big Book” there is an essay in the non-fiction genre testifies to the rationale for the appearance of the prize, which, unlike the Booker, was not intended to be exclusively “novel”. (I would like to see its winners also be the authors of collections of stories, “travel impressions,” documentary narratives, etc.) The fact that this is again a writer’s biography pleases my guild (philological) pride, but seriously, it speaks of maintaining interest in history Russian literature. And the encouragement of ZhZL, whose editors have been working with passion and taste in recent years, warms the soul.

“On the Sunny Side of the Street,” in my opinion, is a typical example of “pleasant in all respects” prose (suitable for beach and road reading). However, quite a few experienced readers disagree with me (Rubina’s novel was on last year’s Booker shortlist, and this decision did not raise any sharp objections from anyone). And besides, if two of the three winners seem worthy of awards to you, you should not grumble about the third.

In the luxurious hall of the restored Pashkov house, the names of three more – previously unforeseen – laureates of the “Big Book” were announced. “For honor and dignity” they honored the recently deceased poet, translator and publisher Ilya Kormiltsev, with prizes for general contribution to Russian literature - Andrei Bitov and, unfortunately, Valentin Rasputin, who was unable to attend the ceremony. Decisions about these awards were made not by the Literary Academy, but by the Board of Trustees. Why did the choice fall on these famous, more than once (or twice) awarded and deeply revered writers, and not on, say, Vasily Belov and Fazil Iskander (or Vasily Aksenov and Leonid Borodin, or Boris Vasiliev and Vladimir Voinovich), I Don't know. I admit that members of the Literary Academy (of which I am a member) should not know about this. But, like any “fool in the cold,” I can ask two begging questions. Are such awards expected to be awarded in the future or is this a one-time event? What is the meaning of “total” awards from the “Big Book” given the existence of the State Prize, Solzhenitsyn Prize, “Triumph” and “Yasnaya Polyana”, awarded annually precisely “for the overall contribution”? And it would be useful to publicly explain which awards the academy is responsible for, and which the trustees are responsible for.

There were other (not only technical) complications during the “big book” plot. Alas, they are overgrown with whispers and rustles, which I have no right to multiply (meetings of the Academy are held behind closed doors), and I do not want to. Because on the whole, the second “Big Book” held up its mark. What is especially impressive against the backdrop of the Bunin Prize, where the scandalous and embarrassing dissolution or self-dissolution of the expert council that turned out to be decorative was followed by the awarding of Andrei Dementyev, the commentary of which I leave to those who are smarter than me. Or the “circle” strategies of “Yasnaya Polyana” and “Triumph” (in fact, they do not exclude pleasant decisions: I highly appreciate the prose of the last laureates of “Yasnaya Polyana” - Leonid Borodin and Zakhar Prilepin). Or the advertised voluntarism of the New Pushkin Prize, which Bitov alone controls. (The Solzhenitsyn Prize, whose role in the history of Russian culture, to put it mildly, is more significant than Beat’s, is awarded not by the great writer himself, but by the jury.) Or the last Booker somersault, when the judges included Alex Tarn’s tabloid “God Doesn’t Play Dice” in the list of the main contenders. . Without doubting the taste and competence of the five referees (the other five positions on the shortlist guarantee this; some may not like each of them, but they all certainly belong to literature), I can only explain this incident as an obsession. And since any kind of magic is not my thing, I consider myself free from my previous obligation to report on the “dark horse”. I shouldn't have been afraid of déjà vu. It doesn't even smell like them. After Tarn, Denis Sobolev’s “Jerusalem,” which I tore apart a year ago, seems like a masterpiece in less than five minutes.

These are the premium sweets we ate recently. But the season is not over yet: Booker will strike on December 5, followed by Triumph. You need to take courage. And gratefully remember the “Big Book”.

Andrey NEMZER