From personal archive of Island D.
Initial variant of the author's foreword to the collection "Trace of the zombie".
Full volume, disputable statements, detailed self-analysis of texts.
June 1999.

Reflexions over a garbage can

How it to understand - "new versions"? What for it was required to the author to copy own early things? What will the reader as a result receive? We will try to understand. Most it is interesting.

For a long time it is known, from what rubbish verses grow. The prose is scooped from the same dustbin. One hero of the American classics who for the first time has sat down for a normal table, irritated, that "each thing is prepared in itself". "Whether business a heap of scraps in a garbage can! You will mix them, they will become impregnated with juice and slip as well as possible". More exact description of literary process you will not think up.

Purely technically to do qualitative prose it is more difficult, than verses. But a base principle all the same one. You live to yourself, you touch nobody. You save life experience. Children's mental traumas, the fleeting supervision which have been not realised till the end of impression, the inspirations not deciphered quite. Violence and the relation to it. Kindness and its understanding. Love and representation about that, what is it the such...

To look-think-estimate-remember. Or to look-remember-not to estimate-not to think. The information will be all the same processed. The main thing constantly to look. Sometimes through force when object of supervision - you … And in one perfect day appear, that scraps have become impregnated with juice and have started to slip as well as possible - only not inside, and outside. So your first serious text is born.

But what for he was born? Here it is important to understand: even if the author has set as the vital purpose rescue of Russia by a writing of books, it only motive. The motivation lays where more deeply, in the very bottom a garbage can. And if attentively to get accustomed to the text, it will emerge. It is desirable to realise the problems earlier, than it will be made by the critic. And that after all at it motivations will be more terrible than ours, and the first unbiassed (!) review can strong dumbfound the writer. Also there is nothing to pout. Critics - hospital attendants of wood. You sometime examined a wolf in an emphasis? The unpleasant doggie. But it so, to a word.

To me has carried. I had sensible advisers, and I accurately understood, for what I write, and which personal problems I wish to shake on another's shoulders. Alas, neither that, nor another was not reflected in QUALITY of the text. On the first books I elementary studied to write. Yes, it speaks professional tekstovik with pjatnadtsatiletnim the experience, but such is the life truth. The journalism, kopirajting and a creative - quite good dispersal before the book, however only in twenty sheets shows volume, how much you actually are good. Here even the help from the outside will not gain. The majority of editors of a new formation, speaking "style", means language norm of the institute textbook, and as to actual "fleas" to catch them completely any editor not in a condition. Besides, some proof-readers can be dumped on enemy bases. On fear to an aggressor.

And at the author towards the end of job hands fall. To find on three times own literary trash - torture. And long vylezhivatsja pending "a fresh head" it is not necessary to the normal book - after all for this time the author can considerably grow. Also what then - kartinno to burn down the manuscript? To break "source code" in compliance with new outlooks on life and the literature? To interfere with the finished text at level of a base plan - nonsense, the book always the takes. For example, last part of the trilogy I kicks exhausted in prokrustovo a bed of the concept set first two. But on an action course has passed forty years, the new epoch has generated absolutely other people. And achieving the maximum reliability of their characters, I have found out, that persons of heroes have started to dictate plot development. Boys with pleasure have crushed system of values of the predecessors. It is called - it would be desirable as better, and it has turned out as the God ordered. No, cry from the heart is good, while it of the first freshness.

As a result "the Master of dogs", "Steel Heart" and "Brothers on reason" were started up in independent swimming such with what reflected and with what became - bright samples SHCHENJACHEJ of PROSE. It would be necessary to let out this trilogy under a fair name "Bezottsovshchina" (the working name of "Brothers" is characteristic - "to Kill the father"). The Garbage can of the unconscious was played outright and has splashed out brightest of shchenjachih emotions. (Or not dared) to strangle bitterness of a young member of the flight which not in time hated the dominant during lifetime of this. There is nothing to hesitate here, yes I and did not hide, about what actually these books. On similar problems of not complete action narosli the whole layers of literary culture.

So the sharp desire of the author to make through editing of its early books is dictated by completely not conceptual reasons. All is easier. The trilogy was a working background on which my representations about my stylistics were formed. Earlier I did not reflect on it in general, wrote as breathed - and it has appeared, that the author not so exactly breathes. Only doing "Brothers" I have understood, how I would like to build the text. Has turned out criteria. About these criteria have rendered what clumsy assistance to "Brothers" - hardly more low.

Small actual flaws, all nestykovochki, senseless repetitions and purely technical mistakes have besides, emerged. It would be desirable to return Something to a "hand-written" initial variant because redaktura with a proof-reading from the best promptings rose sometimes across an author's plan. Places reserve subject lines and characters which and remained not claimed stuck out. The separate moments have called fair questions readers and required at least footnotes. Others, on the contrary, tired dlinnotami. And all it together did not allow to the author to live easy. It is very lovely, that the crude novel "Master of dogs" was exposed on competition of all awards, but that it crude - anything good. Really, where more easy when you knock out at nomination level, but with a thing with which it is not so a shame to you.

To put it briefly, possibility to collect under one cover all trilogy hardly began to dawn, I have suggested to make the new version. What has turned out? I tell.

Published novels - the definitive versions of "source codes" finished to mind which were saved at me in archive and at all were not exposed to intervention of the third parties. Author's edition in the pure state has turned out. As a result of the book, first, became much shorter. Secondly, by places are thoroughly added. Thirdly, are cleared (I hope - as much as possible) from mistakes and discrepancies. And at last, texts are brought (whenever possible) into accord with present stylistics, characteristic for the trade mark "Vlad Menshov".

Actually, if to compare that you hold in hands, with already published version, divergences are almost in each paragraph (that were saved). Frequently they are hardly noticeable, sometimes osoznanno are hidden. But as a whole other books have turned out absolutely. Though actually - the same (in as skazanul!).

The same - because atmosphere has not suffered. Many of readers who have experienced it, appreciated this factor most of all. That it not to start up on raspyl, it was necessary sometimes with a gnash tooth to refuse radical copying of enormous pieces in other words. In general, in an ideal "rereader" should not notice any difference between the old and new version. Thus, that I really climbed hardly probable not in each paragraph.

Absolutely others - because they it is easier for perception. It does not mean, for example, that smoothed "the Master of dogs" demands smaller concentration, that in it zanyrnut. But now to float under the text it is possible, not clinging to puffing up words. And characters not so desperately say lies each other - from time to time I did not understand, to whom to believe.

In general, "Master" is most of all modified. The novel initially conceived as "prequel" and marketing experiment, has all the same suffered from characteristic for any first book of author's nervous trembling. Understanding, that your first book without ceremony can appear last, you willy-nilly on a maximum litter with its waste of the attitude. You try to state as much as possible. That then though in a tomb, but with pure conscience. Not without reason early things of many modern Russian visionaries - not the best at them, but devilishly sincere and that are especially beautiful. To "master" this problem of author's mentality has not gone on advantage, it became tjazhelovat. The word Besides, casually dropped in the first part can force to turn you in the unexpected image a plot of the second and the third. In summary the ends do not converge with the beginnings...

Though such rasklad it was possible to assume long before. Very much in the intricate image the trilogy was born on light. The second part is thought up three years prior to the first and postponed in a table because of categorical impossibility it to publish; the first in general is designed is artificial to probe the market; the third was written with all the heart and "as a hobby", but it has appeared the most professional... By the way, it is necessary to state briefly an author's estimation of each thing separately. Interestingly, how much my sight is distinct from yours?

Basically, when "Heart" and "Master" were thought over at level kontsepta, the problem has been formulated extremely accurately. I tried rasmotret a cruelty problem "as answer of the person to that cruelty from which the society imposes to this person a social role unusual for it". Here they, motivations - poperli from a bucket, darling! I on the questions have received answers. But whether it was possible to me to speak aloud what painfully try and cannot state others?...

"The master of dogs" (in a working variant "has badly put"). Formal dates of a writing 1994-1996. The book plot was born in 1993 - we sat with Karmoj on mountains Vorobevyh, looked somewhere afar... As a result the trilogy was opened by a semithriller-semiinsurgent which I by fits scribbled two years, expecting when suitable time will come. Nervous, places braided language. Deliberately weighted plot. The hero to whom it is necessary to get used. It seemed to me amusing to simulate behaviour of the person who has lost on a course of life all human values. And the book about love has turned out. How much the Master explained, how to it toshno on our planet, it only words. Actually he desperately tries to be socialised - "to be good". It is natural: after all the Master not bleshchet talents, at it is not present that opening which has allowed Timu Kostenko zakuklitsja in the rage for the whole world. The master categorically has no place to run. Look back around, and will see weight of such painfully doubled people. Only in the majority of them there is no that moral core which has made the Master the character, capable to extend on itself the book. This treplivyj the fop who in words hates mankind, actually is able to like. Let its tenderness has concentrated on one dog and small group of nice neurasthenics, but of love to them it makes the Act.

"Steel Heart". The encyclopaedia of psychothrone war, under an outset filled by the documentary information. In details thought over and partially even written, the novel actually was completely ready to a conclusion to a paper in the spring of 1990 and is postponed for the most distant shelf at me in a head. Insignificant additions have appeared in 1991 - then there was a dating. Actually the text became on a joint 1996-97 exactly four months - "the iron standard" commercial author. It was necessary to sit down and write down simply. Taking an opportunity, low I bow to the Moscow journalists vlad Volkovym, Vladimir Umnov and Jury Rjazhskim. Their self-denying job and has not been appreciated. And how it adequately to estimate?

Where exactly in "Heart" the documentary story comes to an end and begins fantastic novel, already not to disassemble. Seriously. By and large, in the book fighting episodes are completely invented only a few. All other nasty thing is described at least on a testimony of the third parties. But the text essentially was under construction so that as much as possible to bind a reality and fiction, and after the lapse of a decade to filter it is a full hopelessness. After all some facts and events are simply erased from my memory. I have made it about eight years ago, using simple, but the effective psychotechnics, and is very happy. And to pull out it shit back - alone I will not manage and of own will I will disagree. Considering, that all clinically normal participants of events (people skilled and not shy ten) is permanent were in a condition shivering podzhilok... To put it briefly, the author has given the debts and for today psihotroniku saw in a coffin. Moreover, it has the slightest right to assure somebody in a reality even no some of the described events. We will converge on that, what is it pure invention.

And I fault, that "Steel Heart" - the book about hatred. Zadergannaja, embittered and devilishly lonely infection of twenty two years old which has combined this thing on bricks, only has frankly reflected a reality in a curve mirror of the person. And Tim Kostenko - which us so did not suffice in those nasty denechki, - too the very fairly worked character. Not bad and not good, on the trouble allocated with rare gift. The guy at whom all human values on a place, but are not present any possibility to find common language with the world of people. The being which has been severely squeezed out by a society outside. I admit, to me costed certain effort to give to it full freedom of actions and not to suppress its some aggressive impulses. Even in forty years of "book" time Tim breaks periodically, showing earth dwellers the contempt. It is natural to assume, that it is not especially happy there, at itself(himself), somewhere "above". But after all to it here it would not be good. It for this purpose will too far defend from us.

And at last, "Brothers on reason". It is thought up in 1994 - when on my eyes the everyday collision which has become by a basis of the book was formed. Strangely enough, almost nobody has made out venomous implied sense of the name. So happens, if the reader is fixed on fantastic assumptions and passes by eyes concrete human problems. Within the limits of the trilogy it is my liked thing. It is a pity, that its true advantages remained not noticed... A little it is a pity. Me sometimes abuse for absence in the text of accurately expressed author's position (the ridiculous claim, I all the same not write manifestos). And so, "Brothers" - unique my book where the author sticks out of all cracks and even has the nerve to state personal estimations. And best of "Brothers" in this plan - epigraphs to heads. Here it, Divov O. I. Absolutely not brushed [for technical reasons epigraphs with which each chapter of each book initially was anticipated, in "the Trace of the zombie" have not entered, they are accessible or in early versions, or in "poketnom" the edition of the trilogy after 2001 - примеч.авт.2003].

By the way (for a long time wished to tell about it), the NLP-SEDUCING scene at restaurant is written out by the professional. Develop the same circumstances in a real life, silly fellow Semmi really would jerk to the specified address. And something necessarily would make upon it indelible impression...

So, "Brothers". On a plot - a typical quest. Job half a year in 1997. And unexpected result. The novel has not liked. It bought as a sequel, but did not accept as separately taken book. If to address to external factors - it is clear, what's the matter. Last part was beat out from the general stylistics of the trilogy. In it almost does not remain that nervous ringing note which first two differed. Actually I have simply finished with tongue-tie and the verbosity for some reason steadily associating at some categories of readers with the serious literature.

At the same time, if to dig deeply, in "Brothers" really there was no sore which importunately climbed in eyes from each page of first two parts. A hitch that heroes of "Brothers" - though also anxious by secret of the birth, but in the rest quite safe young men, - elementary could not generate this sore. Grown in rather free society, two Igors have appeared simply not in a condition to behave so e-e... vzdrjuchenno, as their predecessors. Seniors, solving purely personal problem, could rescue through rotted through world with identical ease or to blow up it that did not decay further. Younger, not having to this world of so fundamental claims, are ready to change first of all itself - that better the world to understand and it is cleverer to influence it. Such relation to a life has broken the senior and younger heroes into two polar camps. Between them the same precipice that divides now flown into a rage Russian and zaevshegosja the European. Bottomless and insuperable. To be gone, which exists until, yet will not risk to make a step to emptiness and to find out, that under a foot firmly...

But it already absolutely other dustbin.

First Russian professional writer, Pushkin, used to say, that "writes for itself, and prints for money". The problem of any commercial author, especially now when incomes of publications have fallen in three-four times - to observe balance between market conditions and own aesthetic preferences. If this balance is caught as though by itself, coming up from "garbage can", it's OK. And here when desire accurately to spread out on one corpse to each page comes from a head when schemes and schedules are built... Faugh. But such is our bought most up prose - excuse for a pun, humdrum of life.

Strange authors come and leave. Arise anywhere, are published almost that marininskimi by circulations, then the market chews them. The year, two, a maximum three - the person disappears. Perhaps it will revive under other pseudonym. Or will join the collective which is giving out daily to the surface under the index of a cud on which cover just right to stick a label "a guarantee of the publisher: because of this book you will not drive the stop of the underground".

I do not wish to prove now to anybody, that this process - natural, and shameful kvazidetektivy any Masha Kakashkinoj will always find demand. It is enough to recollect history of the domestic literature. More precisely, history of its sales. And if not to calm down, then to cease to tear on itself the rests of hair, predicting a decline of Russian fantasy.

As in our sector position a little special. There is besides a live process, it has moved recently from a place, but it seems, it not to stop. At a fantasy more legible and competent consumer (for what to it many thanks). Frank lazha here either it is cut in general, or leaves in accurately designated deep niches, not creating a dangerous competition to twenty-thirty "form-building" authors.

To authors who do not hold the reader for a goat.

Probably, it is self-deception (if to believe laws Parkinsona - precisely). Naturally, me to be measured by forces with people whom I respect, and on in common dunged field, rather than with mashami kakashkinymi, whose territory - the burnt earth and against which I do not have any trump much more cheerfully. But while it is possible to sell annually at least fifty thousand copies of my literary trash, I am ready not to complain, and to hollow on keys. Though the melancholy sometimes rolls, and it would be desirable to tear off dependence on the accursed dustbin which exhaust is devilishly astable. Have heard sometime the such: "planned creative crisis"? This time condition full opustoshennosti which managed to be foreseen in advance and accordingly to cut down the family budget.

Somewhere at me edgings of mountain skis inside gnash and artillery shells whistle. The printing house roars and the computer rustles. The car departs to a ditch, the person brought down on road falls. Marks at a head of boots, tears up a skin asphalt. Another's blood. Another's tears. The same, not so another's. The rheumatic attack, creeping blindness. Constant mortuaries-coffins-tombs-commemoration. Long corridors in the street Truths and tsiklopicheskie interiors Ostankino. Hundred grammes before a breakfast on weekdays that it was not opposite to go to work. Fight for the client, okopnaja war with the customer. Any negotiations, conversations, plots, slanders. A postulate "a minimum of times in a year it is necessary to change the woman, job and a circle of contacts". SHCHenjachi pleasures, adult losses. Irreversible acts. Rigid decisions... No, same it is necessary to have such ruthless memory! Here it, my dustbin on which the prose grows. A tooling which I earn for a life.

Thanks all who votes rouble for that, what is it interestingly.