Dmitry Vodennikov for many – only the poet. But it has been ten years of not writing poetry. Sometime in 2007 at the festival Kirill Serebrennikov “Territory” Vodennikov called the king of poets. Where are now those days? Pieces of silver was almost at the years of imprisonment, and Vodennikov switched from poetry to prose, which, incidentally, he is also very good as teaching at the School of creative writing. In an interview Vodennikov shared his thoughts about the pandemic, the truth and the dogs, whose people have much to learn.

A devoted coronavirus poems, and you paid tribute to the pandemic in his poetry?

– me poems left ten years ago, but I know the real genius text of the era of coronavirus. It was written by the poet Dmitry Danilov. It is a contemporary “Prophet” Pushkin. The man loaded with toilet paper, which, remember, everyone rushed to buy at the beginning of the pandemic, suddenly down two police officers and do with him what the six-winged Seraphim with the prophet in Pushkin’s poem. Stunning text.

When I read it, I realized that the writer and the poet can respond to the immediate agenda and to do it brilliantly. I didn’t respond to the virus with a poetic point of view, but I had several essays about how we will live in a new reality, both began to feel lost, as if experiencing a Third World war, about which so many Bolsheviks said.

About the comparison of the pandemic with the war spoke often. Do you think this is comparable?

– This is a very, of course, roughly said. But, listen, we were all at the same time and in the occupation, and on the front, and received reports from the fields of invisible battles. I recently had an elderly relative die from coronavirus. When his wife, who is also ill, reported it, she screamed, “no, No, not true!”. This is a war. She was kind of invisible – viruses are small, and we can’t see them. So the comparison with the Third World, though a bit hysterical right, for some reason it seemed to me appropriate.

– once you have chosen the king of poets at the festival “Territory”, one of the founders of which were Kirill Serebrennikov. You followed the case, “the Seventh Studio” and, if so, what do you think about probation Serebrennikov and his conviction?

– I am very concerned about this situation. I don’t understand, but aware of what exactly pieces of silver here. Even if there was some abuse, you understand that this is a man who just signed some documents, almost of them are not looking because he is busy with a completely different story. He handles the creative part of the theater – a huge mechanism.

I really feel sorry for him and I feel terribly sorry for him, if someone was framed. I read a lot of midst a Facebook tape. There are several ideological clans. Some hoot, others, on the contrary, as well peredelyvala pedal, sorry. I understand that it could not be opened easy to scratch, it would have fallen apart, but I’m sure no malice specifically Serebrennikov was not and could not be.

are You on a poetry workshop at the School of creative writing. Generally you can learn to write poetry?

– surprisingly, Yes. You can’t teach writing in the truest sense of the word, but at the seminars, talking about the lyrics, you suddenly give the man his own key, which hangs on the bundle. Such a key, maybe not the most beautiful, not like a key of some Karabas-Barabas and dented, aluminum, like from the mailbox, but it is individual.

I had a few such examples when the person who wrote some porridge, suddenly began to speak in verse a completely different voice. It is possible to open, going back to Pushkin’s “the Prophet.” Remember, it suddenly came down Seraphim, who had his tongue ripped out, stunned, her Breasts were cut with sword in General, have been raped, but without the sexual connotation – and said, “Verb burn the hearts of people.” That’s what can make teacher. He can transform you completely into another creature and say: “Go write!”

– How a new generation of poets, in your opinion, differs from the previous one?

I don’t work with young poets. For example, my student Igor Ilyin, who first wrote equalitye, ritmichnye texts, suddenly, surprisingly for myself, I began to create absolutely stunning poems, indeed, jumped, jumped on neprigoraemuyu them height and length. Now, he’s about my age, younger than seven years.

Age does not matter. You can punch yourself and the other person. Remember the great American poet Walt Whitman? In fact, he began to write forty. What happened to him? What prophet, the Seraphim, he was found internally?

In fact, no generation is different. Somewhat different language, but the real moment of speaking about itself, the truth remains. What is important to the poet? This is to say to yourself the truth, then you and about the time will speak the truth. The only thing that distinguishes these texts from the fake. All the rest is nonsense, nonsense. I mean the division into generations. We just take a different tool. Once a vers Libre was new, and now many poets are told in unrhymed verse. It’s like with love. What is the difference between love now and a century ago? Is about the same.

– What contemporary poets do you particularly noted?

– If we talk about the new generation, that is, of course, Eugene Horan, Glad Orlov, Maxim Zhigalin, To��eniya Salikhov. It already gathered their audience, they leave books and even have pupils, imitators, certainly. While they do not necessarily produce the printed collections, which today play the role of the album for a musician.

the Real popularity comes through the Internet, and so do not be afraid, do you have the book or not. If you need and your poems are laid out in a Network, they live. In this sense, the current young guys are more fortunate than we, whose formation had in the nineties, when a symbolic monetary unit was the book. And today you spread your virtual texts – and importantly, if thousands of people come, who give you a like, but how many more read them without like! The book is the perfect souvenir from eternity.

In his essay on Tsvetaeva you write: “the reader (especially the simple) often thinks that in the poet there is any single trait that defines it completely. And the only feature considers the most controversial”. In this sense, how would you define the main characteristic of your poetry?

– Perhaps ruthlessness. Including to yourself. Are you trying to tell the truth. The truth that he is not ready. We are usually very weak, cowardly people of flesh and blood. But the task of the poet is to tell the truth, no candor or sincerity is a totally different thing, namely the truth. All I was trying to do was tell the truth, given that me is a weak little man wanted to escape it. It was necessary to tear off arms, legs, insert eagle eyes, and then lie like a corpse in the desert, and start to go. As well, now that I don’t have to solve this problem and just live as a layman. I am very happy.

I Hope that the poems you did come back. Akhmatova and Mandelstam, too, because for a long time?

– Yes, like Mandelstam, remember, talked about this – went the ability to hear. My poetry came out of it, sound. I had nothing to do with it. Supreme sound suddenly came, but now no longer. I ceased to hear the roar, I stopped the buzzing in my head. It was no more, and to forge it is impossible.

as with love. You can have sexual attraction, but love to fake you can’t. It’s either there or not. The poems left me with a mysterious inner life. My some growth, perhaps a human, but for some reason the sound is gone. And this is unrelated to the others.

by the Way, the same Akhmatova, who at some point stopped, with age, began to write even better. Remember her “Northern elegies”. This is much better than her early poems, “I’m on the right hand wearing the glove with the left hand.”

And what would be Mandelstam, if not dead like a dog in the camp? What level of a poet we would have if he lived to be sixty years old?

We are such a poetand have is Pasternak, whose best poems are the later ones. Or, for example, the late brilliant book by Viktor Sosnora. “Where are you going? where is the window?”. So the verses leave not because you get older. They have a mysterious strange existence. You just don’t understand why they leave you. We don’t make the text, and the text writes us. You see, I was not interested in my text and it decided me not to write.

But your dog Chun literally captivated readers and critics have put it on a par with their boots. It is believed that dogs are loyal animals, and what, in your opinion, we need to learn from them?

Dogs are not the most loyal creatures, because it’s the same niblet well cheating on me. If I do not live single, and she chooses which to go, then that person not be me. So loyalty is our human tales.

But the question is, what could we learn from them, interesting. You know, for example, that there is a theory that dogs domesticated humans and not the opposite, investing them with the thought that it would be nice if somewhere ran these half-dragons, half-wolves, who would be barking gave us a sign that someone is approaching. This is a very deep thought. We need to learn from dogs, that’s the ability to tame a creature much more powerful to take care of us, fed, vaccinated and kept thinking and was worried when we go to St. Petersburg, Paris or somewhere else. You know, it’s a huge problem. Do you think you who to leave the dog.

you Have already published several prose books, including “Dreams about Chun”. You think of great novelistic form?

– Yes, I have published several books of prose – “Vodennikov in prose” and “Dreams about Chun”. There is not even about the dog, and Marilyn Monroe, Nietzsche, Schopenhauer, Goya, and the dog runs past this and commented. She is very arrogant and has a point of view on all subjects, even those that are not competent.

I really envy people who can write real fiction – a novel or a story. Love Tatyana Tolstaya. With great admiration belong to Ludmila Petrushevskaya. That’s the real writers. Now, by the way, watched the conversation Thick with Alexander Genis about “the Master and Margarita”. Now, see, Bulgakov is an original writer, and his book – not even a layer cake, and a maze. Such prose I write, of course, can’t. But, you never know, maybe, “in my sad sunset love will Shine its farewell smile,” and it is not a sexy story, a novel – fiction, I’m absolutely not given. To me, this hum does not come, but if he came, I would be happy.

Dmitry Vodennikov – Sovelu (“This summer, Anastasia”)

that’s what this summer was standing

in the throat like a bone and water:

neither comfort nor happiness St��lo,

and gratitude — Yes.

Well, that died one person loved me. And like the heart in the blood,

but out of the house for bread, and there, long-legged children

and that they care about our happy love?

And you suddenly realize you that life is not at all about that.

Not about the fact that someone died, and someone no,

not about the fact that someone is alive, and someone a bit

and about the fact that all floods of celestial light,

one in particular does not regret.

— Because our whole life is only the pursuit of happiness,

but happiness is so much that we can carry.

Released for bread — and life flashed: “This summer, Nastya.

my Heart is torn to pieces.”

Men leave and women (for some reason),

as you stand in the hallway and say again:

— In the delicate greens of summer early morning

good to begin to live, good to start to die…

Mother leaves, the father is getting older, smoke in cigarette

the kids go away, go away pimples on the poem.

And you say, standing in the doorway: — This summer, summer…

my Heart is torn to pieces.