For forty years, Vladimir Sorokin’s work has transgressed almost every political and social taboo imaginable in Russia. His novel Blue Bacon [publié en France aux Éditions de l’olivier en 2007]where the sexual antics of clones of Stalin and Khrushchev are described in great detail, earned him a criminal investigation for distributing pornography.
Pro-Kremlin activists accused him of promoting cannibalism and tried to have his short novel banned Nastya [inédit en français], a macabre allegory about a young girl who is cooked and eaten by her family. In 2002, protesters even placed a gigantic toilet sculpture in front of the Bolshoi and threw his books into it, a fecal metaphor that reminded Sorokin “one of [ses] stories”.
Each time he was targeted, Sorokin went further and only became more popular. “A Russian writer has two possibilities: either to be afraid, or to write, he recently said in an interview. I write.”
A tragically premonitory vision
Vladimir Sorokin is considered by many to be one of the most inventive Russian writers, an iconoclast who testifies to the authoritarian drift of his country. His subversive fables satirize the darkest chapters of Soviet history, his futuristic tales portray the creeping repression of 21st-century Russia.e century.
Despite his reputation as a brilliant postmodern designer and unrepentant troublemaker, he remains relatively unknown in the West. Until recently, only a handful of his works were translated into English. [ses romans ont davantage été traduits en français]. It must be said that he tackles disturbing subjects and that his writing can be very difficult to translate.
But the writer is beginning to make people talk about him, because his vision of an old empire on the decline, sinking into backwardness under a militaristic and repressive regime, is tragically prescient.
At a time when Russia continues its invasion of Ukraine with unprecedented brutality, Sorokin sees in this conflict not only a military offensive, but also a semantic war through propaganda and lies – an attack on the truth that the writers must fight:
“The role of writers will change in the current situation. If a new era of censorship begins, writers’ words will only be stronger.”
A helping hand from fate
During our meeting, Sorokin – 66 years old, gray hair and serene manners that make him look like a hermit or a sage – speaks in a soft voice, with a pensive gaze, far from the sassy personality and divisive that we willingly attribute to it.
Speaking from Germany, he seemed bewildered to find himself facing what could be a long exile – even if he had expected it. He and his wife, Irina, who split their time between Vnukovo, a town on the outskirts of Moscow, and their bright, art-filled Berlin apartment, left Russia three days before the invasion of Ukraine .
Even if the date of their departure was a simple coincidence, how can we not see a helping hand from fate? Sorokin is now reluctant to return to Russia as long as Putin is in power. He denounced the invasion of Ukraine publicly, he called Vladimir Putin a “freak” and madman and he found himself in the crosshairs after the president accused of “scum” e