Writer Varlamov told Indians about Russian culture in English

The famous writer, rector of the Literary Institute Alexey Varlamov has just returned from Calcutta, where the 47th International Book Exhibition is taking place, considered one of the most visited in the world, a sort of “book Disneyland” with an audience of millions. But for India, with a population of 1.4 billion people, attendance is not the main indicator, so the MK correspondent talked with Alexei Nikolaevich about for whom India is a truly friendly country, what they know about Russian culture and what we know about Indian culture. And why did Varlamov have to give the lecture in English, although there seems to be post-colonialism and no special respect for representatives of the former British Empire.

— During your trip, did you have the feeling that India is a friendly country, or is this just a political cliche?

— Indians are generally very friendly; being friends, not only to us, but to the whole world, is the basis of their character. Maybe they have conflicts with their neighbors, as we know, but government policy is one thing, and ordinary people are another. They are very, very friendly towards guests. You walk down the street, everyone understands that you are not local, and, as a rule, they smile at you and want to take a photo with you. But when they find out that you are from Russia, the smiles become even wider, it’s true. I’m not saying this for the purpose of propaganda, but the words about friendliness are not empty, they really are.

— How many days did you stay in India and where else did you visit besides Calcutta?

– Only in Calcutta, the whole event there lasts ten days, but it was planned so that our writers would appear in their own time period, so I spent four days there. We performed not only in open-air fair tents, but also once at the local version of our VGIK – at an institute where specialists are trained for the film industry, and once – at a university like our Physics and Technology Institute or MEPhI, where future engineers study.

— Did you perform in Russian?

— No, all three sites are in English. I didn’t meet as many native Russian speakers there as, say, in New Delhi (where the Center for Russian Studies at Jawaharlal Nehru University operates. — I.V.). But the Calcutta organizers asked us to use English, I can’t say that there was some incredible full house, but the audience was always filled, and communication was informal. And there was an interest in Russia and Russian culture, but, again, interest in the world is in their nature; India is a very open country.

— What interested your listeners?

— First of all, answers to philosophical questions. How to write? What to write about? How to live? I talked about the names of Russian literature that changed the world, but the Indian moderators of all three meetings were very loose with the stated topics, so more often I had to talk about why I became a writer or what I could not live without. They got personal; they didn’t need another story about Leo Tolstoy or Maxim Gorky, but I as a person, not even as a writer.

They perceive literature as a version of “human studies.”

— Is it possible to hope that any of them have read the books of Alexei Varlamov?

– No, no one read it, but it was important for them that a Russian writer came, and even with a beard. (Laughs.) But the most interesting thing was in their VGIK. What immediately surprised me was the large portrait of Andrei Tarkovsky on the wall. They respect him very much. And my lecture “Bunin and Tolstoy. Disputes about Russia” developed into a conversation about Tarkovsky and Shukshin. And if now they watch Shukshin’s films, I will consider my mission accomplished. The leader of my communication with the students was the former rector of this institute, Ashok Viswanathan, and he came with a cat. They sent me photographs: we were sitting on stage, with a fluffy pet between us, which made the meeting homely and very magical, like the whole of India.

— In general, what do Indians know about us besides the stereotypical set of “vodka, caviar, Gagarin, Kalashnikov assault rifle”? And what do we know about them and Indian culture besides Rabindranath Tagore and Mithun Chakraborty?

“We definitely weren’t talking about vodka and caviar, and I’m ashamed that once, during a long journey from city to city, I asked why there were no cows on the street.” Some awkwardness arose, and I said: “It’s probably the same thing if you in Russia started asking why there are no bears?” I am sure that cows are found in other places, and very often, but I did not come across them. They, of course, know Gorky, he is very popular, Mr. Viswanathan seemed to me a very well-read and well-read person, who knows Pushkin and Chekhov, Stanislavsky and Eisenstein very well. And he probably tells his students about them. What have I learned about India? My observations are superficial, but I was amazed that two Indians, when meeting, switch to English.

“Don’t you have a native language?” – I asked. But they explained to me that, firstly, India is a multinational and multilingual state and, if the interlocutors have different native languages, the foreign one acts as an intermediary. And secondly, for the educated intelligentsia, English is like French for Russian nobles of the 19th century. And this despite the history, despite the fact that the British treated Indians cruelly.

And if we answer more globally, Indian literature is penetrating into Russia: Indian authors, foreign writers of Indian origin writing in world languages. But we know much less about India than it deserves.