WRITERS IN EXILE
505
paper, and who nevertheless have not and probably never will
create masterpieces? Well, even if you publish in American
magazines and your books are printed in English, it's a hard
way to live.
Are the difficulties in America the same as in the Soviet
Union? God forbid! In Russia, a writer has to deal with the
ideology; in America, with marketing. Neither is paradise, but
the notions of "a talented book" and "a profitable book" some–
times coincide. Not always, certainly, and even not often-let's
say in one case out of ten. But the notions of "a talented book"
and "an ideologically correct book" can
never
coincide. In Amer–
ica everybody has a chance. Maybe your book will never be good
enough. Don't get upset. On a moral scale, an honest failure to
create a masterpiece is equal to success, and is even better than
success, since it's not rewarded.
We are published. Isn ' t that what I dreamed of all my
conscious life? Wasn ' t this the aim for which I made so many
sacrifices? In the States, only those write for whom it is an urgent
spiritual need. Of course, I mean serious prose, serious literature.
Leo Tolstoy dreamed about it; Turgenev was ashamed to take
royalties. Let us remember that the great Russian poet Lermontov
published only one book of verse during his lifetime.
If
I am not
mistaken, it was only one hundred twenty-three pages long. The
Russian poet Anton Delvig published not even one book; the
Russian poet Vinevitinov, none; Dobrolyubov and Belinsky, the
great Russian critics, did not see their books published in their
lifetimes. Now, how many did the Soviet poet Vladimir Fiersov
publish? Was it forty? Or eighty? And the ignoramus Soviet
writer Pomerantsev, and the illiterate Soviet writer Safronov?
Using their books instead of bricks-their books look like
bricks-we could fix all the damaged buildings in the South
Bronx.
There is another problem. In the Soviet Union, the writer
is accorded great respect. The public attitude toward the writer
in the USSR reminds me of the American attitude toward movie
and sports stars.
If
TV and advertising could exist in some
future Soviet Union, between episodes on the screen you might
not see Farrah Fawcett or Mohammed Ali but Yuz Aleshkovsky
and Andrei Siniavski-although Farrah is far more beautiful
than Siniavski and even than Al eshkovsky. In America, an
