Moscow Noir, page 26
I was waiting for them to execute me, but times had changed. The Revolution required slaves, not sacrifices. They sent me to a camp, where I was certain I would die. I could die in transit, in Siberia, or at the colony; or, after the second arrest, in the transit prisons, in Dzhezkazgan or Vorkuta. I probably didn’t perish because the death-infused seed I’d spilled into my throat so many nights in a row had filled me with strength.
In ’56, during the wave of Khrushchev’s rehabilitations, I returned to Moscow. I thought, They’ve rehabilitated Jan too. I thought I might learn the name of the UgRo informer, meet with him and look into his deep dark eyes … But I didn’t try. What would I have done if I’d met the man? In my dreams I sometimes killed him, sometimes I had sex with him, and often at the decisive moment the countess would walk into the bedroom, a ghost, still very young, walk in and watch silently, and his mighty round-headed cock would soften in my lips.
Once I dreamed that the bullet—my lover’s lead seed—would not let time waste my flesh. I’d been twenty-four—and the same number of years have now passed since I came back from Kazakhstan, although once again I thought I would soon die. The years have faded my memory of Jan, my memory of our love, my memory of the camp, the countess, and her round-headed companion, everything that happened in the last seventy-odd years. I’ve spent nearly my entire life alone; and in old age even the old ghosts refrained from violating my solitude.
I know this is how I’ll die. Alone, in an empty apartment, the summer of 1980, the sixty-third anniversary of the Revolution’s birth.
Death is a great cheat, a fata morgana. I once dreamed of it, but it slipped away, over and over. Eventually I gave up, weary, and backed off.
Now it’s coming for me and I say, Listen, I don’t understand why I ever loved you. In reply you squeeze my old fingers in your cold hand.
Is this really what I dreamed of half a century ago?
Too bad. You’ve taken so long to get here, I almost forgot how much I once loved you!
A little girl on Crimea’s cliffs, a young woman from a burned-out village, an old woman in front of a mirror. A sailor floating down the Volga, a soldier pulling out a pin, an old man waiting for death, a man finding it for himself. And more and more new souls keep crowding in behind them.
All of them are me.
My god, so many! None of them are left—the son, the daughter, the heir, the heiress—no one is left, no one and nothing, there’s not even anyone to remember, anyone to tell, anyone to utter a word to those who came after. No one sees or hears them.
Only me …
Masha weeps, she weeps for everyone who vanished without a trace, weeps and repeats: Only me, only me … and does that mean I’m their heir? Does that mean I have to bear all this, preserve these souls in my emaciated body, bear them eternally in exchange for my unconceived children?
I’m as alone as alone can be, Masha tells herself. I never knew my real parents, my mama and papa drove me out, I have no brothers or sisters, and will never have children. How will I carry this burden alone? Am I a medium or something? Did I summon up the dead? No, they came to me of their own accord, entered me the way a rapist enters a sleeping woman, a woman who has lost the strength to resist.
Oh well, if you’ve come, make yourself comfortable, eat me, enjoy. Here is my flesh, here is my blood, but no bread and wine are served here. Be my guests, only know it’ll be a short story. Because I’m not going to be able to bear all this any longer.
I can’t alone.
And I can’t call for help.
I’ll go to Nikita and say, I hear voices, I have other people, dead people, living inside me. Instantly his voice will become very patient, sympathetic, and upbeat. That voice will make even me start to think I’ve lost my mind and belong in a psych ward. It’s probably better if I don’t say anything at all.
Just so he’s nearby, just so he doesn’t leave, just so he holds my hand—and I’ll keep quiet, I’ll deal with the rest myself.
I’ll say, Wasn’t it nice in the Crimea nine years ago? Remember I was still telling fortunes on the quay? Could that have been when it all started? Could that be where I let all these alien lives inside me, all these lost, dead, unfortunate, barren souls? But we were still having fun that evening, drinking wine, eating shashlik. We were young and foolish. Strong and confident. Maybe deep down I still have that strength, maybe it’s enough at this age, what do you think, Nikita, eh?
Don’t answer, you don’t have to. After all, you and I know ourselves how much we can withstand. Don’t answer, all right? Just don’t go away, please. Don’t go.
I’ll just hold your hand—we’ll all just hold your hand—and maybe we’ll surface, or maybe we’ll finally learn to breathe underwater.
ABOUT THE CONTRIBUTORS
ALEXANDER ANUCHKIN was born in Moscow in 1976 to a family of teachers. He has worked as a crime reporter for twelve years, in addition to writing for television. He is currently the anchor and chief editor of the Essential (Glavnoe) TV program. His debut novel, the political thriller Gold Reserve (Zolotoi zapas), was published in 2009.
IRINA DENEZHKINA was born in Yekaterinburg, a large industrial center in the Urals, in 1981. When one of her manuscripts was short-listed for the prestigious National Best Seller Prize, she drew significant critical attention from the Russian media. Her story collection Give Me: Songs for Lovers (Dai mne!) has been translated into twenty languages, including English. She still lives in her native town, working as a journalist, writing her next book, and raising her son.
ALEXEI EVDOKIMOV, born in 1975, is one half of the author team Garros-Evdokimov, best known for their award-winning novel Headcrusher ([golovo] lomka), which has been translated into eight languages. Their subsequent novels are Gray Goo (Seraya sliz’) and Truck Factor (Factor fury). Evdokimov has also published the solo novels Zero-Zero (Nol’-nol’) and Cinephobia. RU (TIK).
JULIA GOUMEN was born in St. Petersburg, Russia, in 1977. With a PhD in English, she has been working in publishing since 2001, starting her own literary agency after three years as a foreign rights manager. Since 2006 Goumen has run the Goumen & Smirnova Literary Agency with Natalia Smirnova.
ANDREI KHUSNUTDINOV, born in 1967, writes in the sci-fi genre, although his prose has often been compared with that of Franz Kafka. He is the author of the novels Danai Greeks (Danaitsy), Huguenot (Gugenot), and Table Rock (Stolovaya gora), the last of which was on the long list for the 2008 Russian Booker Prize.
DMITRY KOSYREV, a.k.a. Master Chen, born in 1955, has written for leading newspapers such as Pravda, Rossiiskaia Gazeta, and Nezavisimaya Gazeta, and other publications since the 1970s. An expert on China, he has lived in various regions of Asia. Kosyrev is the author of the spy novels The Pet Monkey of the House of Tang, The Pet Hawk of the House of Abbas, Amalia and the White Apparition, and Amalia and the Generalissimo. He currently resides in Moscow with his wife and two daughters.
VYACHESLAV KURITSYN, a.k.a. Andrei Turgenev, was born in 1965 in Novosibirsk. He is the founder of both the humanitarian conference “Kuritsyn’s Readings” and the website Contemporary Russian Prose with Vyacheslav Kuritsyn. He is the nationally acclaimed author of a number of books of prose and poetry, including the much-praised The Month of Arcachon (Mesyats Arcachon) and The Siege Novel (Spat’ i verit’), which was short-listed for the National Best Seller Prize and the Russian Booker Prize.
SERGEI KUZNETSOV was born in Moscow in 1966. In the late ’90s he became a leading Russian film and pop culture critic. He is the author of a detective trilogy, The Nineties: A Fairy Tale (Devyanostye: skazka), and a futuristic novel, No (Net), together with Linor Goralik. His book Butterfly Skin (Shkurka babochki) has acquired cult status in Russia and has been translated into German and Italian. He lives in Moscow with his wife and two children.
MAXIM MAXIMOV was born in Moscow in 1979. He has worked as a copywriter for several design and advertising agencies. He is the author of two volumes of poetry and is a fellow of the New Names program. He has published three novels: Moscow Umbrellas (Moskovskie zontiki), We’re Gone (Nas ne byvaet), and Far from Wrigley Gulf (Vdali ot zaliva Rigli).
LUDMILLA PETRUSHEVSKAYA was born in Moscow in 1938. Her first work was published in 1972, only to be followed by almost ten years of officially enforced silence, when her plays and prose were censored. Petrushevskaya’s novel The Time: Night (Vremya noch’) was short-listed for the 1992 Russian Booker Prize and translated into more than thirty languages. Since then, Petrushevskaya has published over thirty books of prose, and her award-winning plays are produced around the world.
SERGEI SAMSONOV was born in 1980 in Podolsk. He works as a copywriter in a Moscow publishing house and contributes to the Ex Libris NG book review. His first novel, Legs (Nogi), was translated into Italian. His second novel, The Kamlaev Anomaly (Anomalia Kamlaeva), was short-listed for the National Best Seller Prize. Samsonov’s most recent novel, Oxygenic Limit (Kislorodny predel), was published in 2009.
GLEB SHULPYAKOV was born in 1971. His first collection of poems, The Flick, was published in 2001 and won the Triumph Prize. He is the author of the novels The Sinan Book (Kniga Sinana) and Tsunami, and contributes essays and criticism to Russian periodicals. He has translated the poetry of Ted Hughes and Robert Hass into Russian, as well as W.H. Auden’s essays. Shulpyakov is currently an editor at the literary magazine New Youth. He lives in Moscow.
NATALIA SMIRNOVA was born in 1978 in Moscow. After studying law and working as a lawyer, she moved to St. Petersburg to work as a foreign rights manager for a publisher. In 2006 she cofounded the Goumen & Smirnova Literary Agency, with Julia Goumen, representing Russian authors worldwide.
ANNA STAROBINETS is a journalist and scriptwriter. Her collection of short stories An Awkward Age (Perekhodny vozrast) has been translated into several languages. She is also the author of the novel Refuge 3/9 (Ubezhische 3/9) and the short story collection Cold Spell (Rezkoe pokholodanie). All of her works have been nominated for the National Best Seller Prize. She lives in Moscow with her husband and daughter.
VLADIMIR TUCHKOV, born in 1949, is an international correspondent for Vesti.ru, an online newspaper. His books have been short-listed for the Andrei Bely Prize and twice for the Anti-Booker Prize. His cyberpunk novel The Dancer (Tantsor) has drawn tremendous acclaim.
IGOR ZOTOV was born in Moscow in 1955. He has worked at the newspaper Nezavisimaya Gazeta for more than ten years, including as deputy editor in chief. He founded and for five years ran the book supplement Ex Libris NG. He is the author of two books and several hundred articles published in the Russian and foreign media.
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Table of Contents
Cover Page
Title Page
Copyright Page
Table of Contents
Introduction
PART I: CRIME AND PUNISHMENT
ANNA STAROBINETS
The Mercy Bus
VYACHESLAV KURITSYN
Gold and Heroin
LUDMILLA PETRUSHEVSKAYA
In the New Development
ANDREI KHUSNUTDINOV
Wait
PART II: DEAD SOULS
ALEXANDER ANUCHKIN
Field of a Thousand Corpses
VLADIMIR TUCHKOV
Pure Ponds, Dirty Sex, or Two Army Buddies Meet
IGOR ZOTOV
Decameron
GLEB SHULPYAKOV
The Doppelgänger
PART III: FATHERS AND SONS
MAXIM MAXIMOV
Daddy Loves Me
IRINA DENEZHKINA
Christmas
SERGEI SAMSONOV
The Point of No Return
PART IV: WAR AND PEACE
DMITRY KOSYREV (MASTER CHEN)
The Coat that Smelled Like Earth
ALEXEI EVDOKIMOV
Europe after the Rain
SERGEI KUZNETSOV
Moscow Reincarnations
About the Contributors
Natalia Smirnova, Moscow Noir
