On Russian Science Fiction

The following articles were scanned from the English language edition of "Fank" Special issue for Volgacon (1991). Please, forgive for scanning errors.

More articles on pages 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6,

---

«RUSSIANS ARE COMING.» OR A STORY ONE SHULDN'T BELEIVE.

VLADIMIR VASILIEV What a Time has set Inl To say nothing about this comprehensive talks about everything, these meetings, starting new cooperatives... Besides that-lt's scary to say-they have drawn up the Iron curtalnl People go abroad and not to such foreign countries as Poland or Bulgaria but right behind the cordon-to capitalists. So It's finishedl It's the end to a Soviet man of late 70's, an Inhabitant of an era of undisturbed Idiots. Some people even managed to go abroad twice.
Fans are another pair of shoes. This folks has always wished «something strange» and hence has ever been persecuted and beaten. Thoug having traditional vitality, It Invariably throve. Sometimes weary, but rather fit. The Soviet fans have beend boiling In the pot of domestic Cons, mainly In «Aellta» In Sverdlovsk. But it turned out that they also convene Cons abroad. This information fell down upon our poor guy-fan and it once and forever crystallzed in the only one brief tought: «I want there. «Instinctively a fan always wants to get Into a Convention. Especially If he knows how nice It was there first.
No wonderthat Boris Zavgorodny was the first one to fall out of the win dow Into Europe. Yes Boris Fan N-l and the propppelerofthe Soviet SF. Though In company with Mlhall Yakubovsky, a personality also known In certain spheres and though only to Hungary.
It was a EuroCon — a traditional meeting of fans from Europe. The next one was held In In the May of 1989 In San-Marlno. Boris couldn't resist. Fannlsh instincts and Inborne optimism won. He began to prepare for It long beforehand, arranging documents, writing letters. He got In touch with the Organiser — Adolf MorgantI, cried before him about lack of money. Western fans are very kinde souls. MorgantI could afford to be a sponsor and promised to pay Borya's trip on condition that he would bring along some stuff about Soviet Fandom, and something else. And so Boris started to pack his things. But Alas, waul We all live In the Soviet UnlonI Our red tape system stood on his way hard to overcome. Have you got a document saying about presence of absence relatives through your mother belonging to the Makao terrorists exposed on Wendsday? No? Then what do you want? In short, It took Borya a lot of time to drag on. But he was perslsttnt. Eventually he gave In. Spat on everything and gave In. Nothing doing.
Not long before the opening of the EuroCon there was a telephone call to Boris from the Komsomol regional Committee. They were wondering wether Boris was going to take his visa out. Boris was startled, but answered he would.
And so It started. He feverishly changed the money and became an owner of half a million of Italian llrs. though the sum later appreared less solid as It had seemed to him at the beginning. On the whole only about 300 $ — mere change!
The total weight of books and other stuff he was going to take along reached 100 kg. The people at the Customs took Borya for a defector. «A crasy guy». To take plenty of paper to the West! An offensive lady with green patches on her uniform shoulders was constantly trying to forebid so mething and Borya In his turn was cu rious «why» with a full directness of an ex finer. Why, for example, he was allowed to bring along a book by Aldiss while by Garrison he cou Idn't though the lady had never read neither of them, and heard about them for the first time In her life. The lady was vaguely hinting at some special circumstance and was already about to shout at him telling him to get back to his native town Volgograd, but at that very moment high authorities from the customs controle appeared and ordered that Boris Zavgorodny should be let In immedlatelly. The lady was fretting and fuming for some time but then got quiet, and Borya assended In amazement the steps of the airliner «Moscow-Rome». On board he met a famlllr face that of Yeremel Parnov. «So you are also flying to the EuroCon»? But  orya didn't even deserve his glance. It turned out that the passengeres of the International airliners are really served not only with mineral water. The more so the service was very generouse Indeed. How can one lose such an opportunity! So Borya drank one wineglass after another and again and again and then the Stewardess lost her cools and she got mad with him. But any Soviet citizen succsessfully overcome through the customs gradually begins to develop a feeling of self dignity. And Borya retorted quite calmly to the airline stewardess fairy that It was her sacred duty to fulfil the clients demands and If she had got bored by attending Borya from time to time pouring more and more wine then he agreed to help himself from the full bottle which she should bring. She was Indignant but what could she do?
And so this Is Rome, the eternal cityl The Leonardo Da Vinci Airport, the Italian Customs. The Soviet fandom messenger was ready to fight again for the sake of Justice, and he got lined. The arab person before him was very thouroughly examined, the customes men shook all his baggage enjoing the process. Borya's heart turned Into stone. Hunderds ofSF pages obtained with a lot of difficulties were put at stake.
At last the Arab man was let In and It was Borya's turn to face Italy with all his stuff Ih his numerouse bags. sultcass and boxes. There were also some wine boxes used for luggage, and one of the customs men got excited. Wine? — he asked.
— No. no, books only — said Borya scared. The guard turned sad and waved with his hand with a sigh. — «Come through» — he said. And that was the end of the customs control and In less than a minute Boris stepped on the Italian earth In full accordance with the local and International laws.
«So somewhere here Is the nest of the Mafia» — thought Borya and he was carrying his stuffs trying to be on alert and never lose sight of It. It was carabineers who helped him with his luggage also showing him the way to his place of destination. He was to ; take a train. So Borya bought a ticket saying good-bye to the half of his money. Since : Borya didn't want to spend his money on the porter he again had to cope with his : luggage by himself and as a result he missed his train. Standing on the platform watching the train leaving playfully waving with his tall Borya clenched his chaws. But these capitalists are such funny people! The policeman didn't even get the problem. «So what's the problem?» «The senior missed his train?» «But senior has paid the trip. What's the problem. He can just as well take another train and go.» So Borya did as he was advised though perplexed. His companions on the train turned to be very tough neatly dressed guys with a short haircut. They spoke Russian as well as Borya spoke English. But as usual they reached rather good understanding. Soon they began to pat each others shoulders and gave each other radiant smiles. The guys turned out to be military officers from a neigbouring NATO base. He hoped that the guys would help him with his stuff when changing the train. But the NATO officers, those «horrible monsters» and pathological killers, according to our the rightest one propaganda, with merry smiles loaded Borya on their army truck with all his stuff and gave him a ride along smooth «local» roads somewhere northeastwards. «Oh. let It be!» — Borya stopped his worries. «When shall. I ever have a chance to visit a NATO base?» They loaded him off In a city of Rimini In the Kapelllny street, at the house of Adolf MorgantI then they bade him a cordial good-bye and left. The door bell resembled very much our native one, but a very happy and face behind the door was a real surprise. We have so much got used to those grim expensslons on the faces of old ladles one can see In our apartments, where many families live. In Russia we call them Communalki. It's a reality we haven't done away with so far.
The door was opened by Morgantl's wife, the host was of course, away on some business. A large hall occupied the ground floor of the house. A huge heap of Borya's stuff was piling high above the polished floor like the Klllmandgaro mountain over African Savanna. Borya was called upstairs and he started climbing up the marble stairs constantly looking back. Or may be he was ascending by an elevator — who can now say exactly? He had a vague Idea that Rimini was no Odessa; one can lose sight of his luggage for a little while, but still his thought was firmly gripped by a grabbing insnict of the Russian railway stations.
Through he was Impressed by the Invincible sense of confidence, the more so he percleved something like a cold wine glass In his hand as If It occurred by Itself, with some alcohol In It.
Meanwhile everyting was being arranged. Borya was shown his «Chamber» he was to stay at. At hearing this so painfully famlller word the guest shivered. Though this «chamber» was as good as a suite In any Sovedepovskaya hotel. It cost 1000.000 llrs a day. Oh. my GodI such a big sum of money. A checkish man who turned up there. God knows how. stayed also there for a nigth. Zavgorodny didn't even pay any attention to him. (After our Soviet Conventions). But on the following morning host of the hotel presented Borya with 50.000 llrs mingled with apologies looking very embarressed by that. But It was not worth surprising.
But some words about EuroCon Itself. Strictly speaking there were three Conventions Happening In San-Marino at the same time: the first world Congress of writers association, which provides you only with the right to pay your dues and be called Its member., then EuroCon itself and also ItaloCon, namely meeting of Italian fans. Trekkers and starwarrers don't count. They are so many abroad, and nobody Intended to rename the Convention Into a Startrek Con or worse. The main difference between our official events and theirs was clear to Borya at first: you need't remain In the a udltorlum all the time, as soon as you get the earphones you can go wherever you wish,
listening simultaneuosly radiocasting In any language you preffer, what Borua actlally did. As If he had never seen auditoriums and armchairs In his life? The surroundings proved to be much more attractive, and remarkable.
It turned out that their traffic regulators stop the street traffic eagerly to let Borya — the pedestrian cross the street. He tried to do this experiment several times In one and the same place and each time a pretty girl with a traffic pointer In her hand with a sweet smile would let him go without flowing Into a rage.
He was also struck by the Xrox In the Organisational Committee headquarters. You Just come up and without special permission of the authorities and the procedure of filling the forms and all sort of Inquest, do whatewer you want: get dollar banknotes xeroxed or even SF llterture. Borya couldn't help It and xeroxed three copies of B. Aldlss's novel — to have someting to pay with when back In the USSR.
And then there was a dinner party. Presentation of numerous awards and certificates with the more numerous number of signatures. Borya's nelgbour at the table happened to be Adam Holpanek, editor— In-chief of the Polish «Fantazlka». He actively supported this unfading lust of our Fan 1. Awards and charters finished much earlier than the alcohol and eventually Borya became aware of himself In company with Holpanek more dead than alive at a half empty table. Quickly waiters were taking away the empty bottles evidently not aware of the generosity of a «broad Russian soul». There was nothing more left, so Borya had to express his Indignation. But the Italian waiters didn't know a word In Russian. Thanks God, Adolf MorgantI Interfered (a young 25 year-old guy). After a lenghty speech In Italian the waiters shivered and a row of dusty wine bottle's appeard on the table looking at the world by their colourful tables and suggesting conlnuation of the feast. Some more participants Joined the «Broad Russian Soul» and later on when Borya took the remaining bottles out as many as he could grab the feast was removed In the open air, all part of San-Marino population staying awake got also Involed In the celebration. And later at the hotel Brunner Joined: after a portion of gulps right from the bottle he fell asleep. Oh, this West-On the following morning Boris have found the loss of his wallet and pasport. When the first Immediate shock was over, he had to resort to an authopllot living deep down Inside In our sub consciousness. Of course, how could it have been another way round? Everything was to be found under his pillow. Our Russian authorpllot Is extreemly reallble: will take you home, will prevent you from danger.
All Borla's books were bought by the Swiss Museum. Aldiss, Sllverberg were very touched bu the typed pages done by the amateur fans translators: «Oh, my God; There are genuine fans In Russia! »Morgantl presented Borya with the VCR. How can this trifle thing be compared with the stuff Borya had brought from Russia?
The rest of the time of his stay Borya was looked after by Adolf's wife and her girlfriend. They didn't let him drink fresh water from the tap, showed him bohemlan nelgbourhoods, where the pavement Is bright with pictures painted bu the unrecognised artistic talents, and muslcans contribute to the city's buzz by unforgettable melodies; They took him to the beaches where Borya got Indulged In swimming thinking that he would hopefully encounter a real shark.
Oh, Italy... In one store Borya was attracted by a china machine gun full of «Napoleon» brandy.
The shop runner couldn't for long conceive why that handsome guy refused to buy It. He Is unaware of our problems, of the disastrous empty pockets... He offered Borya to sample It. So he couldn't refuse from It, sampled his portions and wiped his mouth with a sleeve In grtltude, anaware In his turn of the horror, the runner fled In. He got It on the second doze: It turned out that one shouldn't gulp brandy as we do In Russia our native junk wines, but one should rather sip It drop by drop. So as the proverb has It right: «We live, we learn». He was leaving the store encouraged by one thought that at the bottom of his suitcase there was a bottle of whisky — B. Aldlss's gift.
And now again the airport. The fairy tale was coming to an end. A farewell drinking party with the Soviet emmlgrantes whom he chanced to meet on their way to the USA...
A snowwhite airliner. His seat was next to Eremey Parnov. «Are you also coming back to the USSR? »Then there was an announcement, the speaker said «Mister Zavgorodny, Please take your First class seat, the ticket Is paid» He was follwoed by a mallclouse glance cast In his back.
Borya supposed that he changed the seats fora better balance of the plane.
Moscow, Customs,.. everything seemed hasy. DIma Balkalov. other familiar faces of the fans. An empty bottle of Aldlss's whisky. And HalumbadJa trying with difficulty to make his way through the doors of the Metro.
It's nonsense, my collegues. What San-Marino, What EuroCon? Has It really happened to him? Has It? Oh, my Gosh.
Vocabulary for the Incompetentreaders:
Fan—Sf admire.
Con, Convent-a gathering of a great number of fans at one place. FLP —an ameteurlsh translation of SF works. Mainly presented In a heap of typed pages.
Trekkers-"Star Trek" admireres Star Warsmen — "StarWars"' admirers. Live mainly abroad.
Translated by Maria Pesikova.

More articles on pages 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6,