Karamono

“Kinonetsuke” Kior Yanev.

Antique rare netsuke were sometimes called karamono.

“LOAD-200 (CONTAINERS OF HAPPINESS)” introduction by Bogdan Storokh an action opposite to catharsis: where the ecstasy of art brings creation to the border of being, forcing perception to “die from the beautiful,” criticism is obliged to kill it by dismemberment in order to see the life of its components in prolonging the death of the whole.

The cargo-200 container of happiness accidentally overloaded the thought-producing organ specializing in thinking, killing a couple of million neurons, not all of them, of course, but these were especially dear to my inner auditory. I quietly stocked up and didn’t make it to Arkhangelskoye, ekphrasis, ekphrasis... ekphrasis! Sorry Yanev, I can’t handle the netsuke.

“Southern Mangazeya, what map should I look for?” Tatiana Baskakova.

- The pictures are beautiful, - Noda graphics, engravings and “The Pink Road”, “Five Women”, Kandinsky’s “Moscow”, Kastlunger’s worm, Andrei Bely RGALI, Pak M. “Abelmanovsky Yard”, photo by Alexei Skaldin (1928).

- Did you read it?

- Yeah. She immortalized you.

— I took Ilyazd’s “Admiration” to read. Echidna, will you have netsuke?

Yeah. This is what Yanev and his prose lack - pathos. And this is how they are similar to Baskakova. However, not only this. For example, the ability to write in cultural code. And if Yanev, using modern gadgets, does not string the narrative beads neatly one after another, but scatters words, and then collects sounds like music, then Baskakova writes in a scientifically dry way, avoiding unnecessary circles. Complex texts are a quest for Baskakova, and she is a cheater of initiates - notes to Joyce, the same ciphers written in ordinary language.

"Kinonetske" based on the idea of ​​film reviews. Are stories, like fan fiction, secondary and have no intrinsic value?... And they are needed to make the audience want to watch the film. Baskakova’s article should serve the same purpose... It should, really, but it doesn’t have to. On “Belskie Prostory” I croaked at Yanev 200 readers, I’m a lousy Cassandra. After “which map should I look on?” there will be 10-20 times less. I'm not kidding. To admit that Joyce is not normal for the average mind, there are a couple thousand such nerds in the world.

“Already,” I’m looking for familiar words, I have to start somewhere.

Not Chaplin, - Yanev, I adore you. There is very little Tarkovsky, Rob Grillet, Kurosawa, artists would tear you into rags to wipe your brushes, a lot of Hitchcock, Bresson and Scorsese. In Apocalypse Now I forgot the painting by the famous surrealist, which Coppola brazenly stole, with pig-pink corpses. “Berlin Alexanderplatz” Fassbinder, throw a heavy object at me, I considered the great German director to be the father of Michael Fassbender with a cinematic penis at the ready from “Shame”.

“Liberty Sisters”, “Franz” Ozone, “My Own Private Idaho” by young Keanu Reeves and River Phoenix, “The Handmaiden” is orientally exquisite, but I love “Eros” by Wong Kar-Wai more. “The Return” by Almodóvar is decent, the earlier one is more interesting for my taste. I was surprised not to find Vivien Leigh’s “Waterloo Bridge”, “Pasolini’s 100 Days of Sodom” and Polanski’s “Venus in Fur”.

Balabanov, Sokurov, German “It’s Hard to Be a God” - the all-Union love for the Strugatskys in world cinema, I haven’t met a single foreigner who has read them, but they have seen “Stalker”.

Netsuke and everything in Japanese culture is a product of painful island perfectionism. Kinonetsuke perfectionism transferred to literature and translated into Russian. Arkhangelsky compared Kior Yanev to an inventor, predicting that he would not stay in the “small” genre for long; it turns out that the novel “Southern Mangazeya” is their logical continuation. For me, a netsuke application, each decodes the personality of its author. Psychiatrists say that people will tell you everything themselves, you just need to be able to listen and hear. Well, there is no doubt that Yanev is an esthete, even too aesthetic, and not of our time, he should be drinking ginanas in a Parisian cafe with Nabokov or with the depressive Joyce, inedible green absinthe, at the next table Hemingway orders Cuban rum with ice, Rob Grillet forgot at the counter “Erasers”, not yet published in “Minui”. Sartre has already written “Saint Genet, Comedian and Martyr”, and Genet himself was overwhelmed by fame, he stopped writing, writing for him is only a means of making money, easy and legal, he despises his craft and the suckers who grab masterly lies from the sheep and flowers of a painted trough.

— Janet’s French is wonderful.

— “The Miracle of the Rose” in Russian became a revelation. Catch it, I don’t understand why, they won’t print it anyway.

- Too associative, write more simply.

- Where? Point your finger and I'll explain.

- I understand. It is difficult for a simple reader to keep...

— The anime boy broke down my text into its components in a minute.

Smart boy. I bought manga, comics, computer games, Joan of Arc from “Fate” on e-bay. FB reminded me five years ago; the boy graduated from the university and teaches “optimization methods” in Slavyan. And I’m writing a third novel, both criticism and not criticism at all: an empathic perception of you, through the prism of the cliches of my psyche. Observer, life goes on by itself, and you go on in parallel. Look at yourself. And I’m perpendicular, except for “Lolita,” Nabokov is long outdated, I love plebeian beer and girly Baileys, and in that cafe I have a place at the bar, wiping glasses until they shine, our universes intersected for a moment. Random waves coincided in resonance.

Kinonetsuke are too ideally peaceful. Minimum war, violence, sex. Eden, which you have lost and yearn for. Submit or die. Bugs in amber, a butterfly in a cobweb are pleasing to the eye, and the lady's slipper also smells pleasantly sweet and honey with a hint of cinnamon. Nepenthos is not really adorned with dirty-meat-colored leaves, vaguely reminiscent in shape of a jug, they collect water, on the inside of the leaf there are a bunch of glands, some produce nectar, others wax. The nectar lures the victim with the smell of rotten meat, the slippery wax prevents it from getting out, it falls to the bottom, drowns and is digested. Refinedly symbolic or condomally primitive, death decomposition into simple elements. By complicating to the point of beauty, and sometimes to the point of absurdity, the human brain struggles with simplicity. At first, thoughts became more complicated - philosophy, now the form of presentation is philology, the most inexact of the sciences, science was the genius of Propp from the year 28. But what about simple and understandable literature? Burdock leaf was not called a bestseller; in those days, toilet paper had not yet been invented.