Iodine, Persian and writing
All three main literary summer premieres turned out to be, alas, disappointments. Yoda , Persian and the Writer have nothing in common, except that their authors are wonderful writers. All three. Without fools. Why do we love Andrei Rubanov? He is not a stylist, like Shishkin, like Ichevsky, not a master of an invigar plot, and as for smart thoughts, it is not a shallow, of course, but, frankly, not Heidegger. But then he had something that none of our contemporary writers had a real hero.