Kirill Medvedev

Lots of time, lots of cars, Lots of money, so much love, Very cold and very hot. But now it’s freezing out, The director Lanzmann is giving us an interview, Without, it must be said, Much passion. This man was intimate with Simone de Beauvoir And worked alongside Sartre. But that’s later. For now Channel One Is filming him en face In the next room And we can make out A few scattered remarks. His nine-hour film About the Holocaust Played in every Country — People nodded off, And in their dreams They saw the horrors And the voice of our famous guest Faded in and faded out. It fades in, fades out, In the hall The beautiful Camilla comes and goes. She perches on the sofa Then she walks away. The assistant to the cultural attaché Of the French Embassy Is also here. She’s the one Who signed up me and Kolya For this interview with Lanzmann. She’s also beautiful and young. A little older than us But she looks younger. Whereas me and Kolya, We don’t want to look younger. One of us is thirty-three, The other’s thirty-four. Not yet at the peak Of our powers, We’re gathering force And preparing to strike. We’re like Lanzmann Who at the age of eighteen Joined the French Communist Party. He joined not because He read Marx or Lenin But because he was asked By his friends In the Resistance. We are like Lanzmann Who cried when he learned Of the death of Stalin. He cried not because He loved Stalin But because he was Sentimental: He saw Soviet Sailors Lowering their flags to half-mast, And thought about how The Soviet people Had absorbed, During the war, The most terrible And frightful blows. We are like Lanzmann Who in 1949 Made the acquaintance Of Sartre and Simone De Beauvoir. He began to work with them On the magazine Les Tempes modernes. And today he is That publication’s Editor in chief. We are like Lanzmann Who in 1972 Made the film Israel, Why, Which, in the words Of the online encyclopedia, “Did not shy away from Difficult questions.” We discussed all our questions In advance of the interview. Inside us it was as if Some keys, cold and hot, Were rattling. It’s nearly freezing out. Meanwhile I was thinking about how Kolya is a rude artist. In the sense that There are radical artists Everywhere you look, But not so many Genuinely rude artists. The rudeness of an artist, I thought, Is an interesting quality. But now Channel One is leaving, Kolya takes off his jacket with its skulls And sets up our cameras. “We are the representatives of the left,” we say. Lanzmann lowers his gaze wearily: Now they’re going to start in about Israel. But Kolya, having explained a bit About his art collective, Asks Lanzmann instead About monumental Art: “Monumental Art. What might it look like Right now?” “How should I know?” Says Lanzmann. “There could be no Monumental Art Today. The world is scattered. For A monumental Work you need A unified sense Of the world.” “But you yourself Filmed a monumental Work. Surely you have Some ideas on this score?” “I didn’t think about That. I’m an artist, Understand? I don’t Think in such Categories. What are you, Communists? Your task is The Revolution. Why are you asking Me about Monumental Art?” We’re the ones asking the questions We’re the ones asking the questions We here are the ones asking the questions. In the iron air Of Moscow. Edelman, Markelov, Pechersky are with us. Medvedev the Bear Jew and Jeff “The Snowman” Monson — That’s what they call us Around town. “In what capacity Did you make that film — As a Frenchman, a Jew, An intellectual? Or as a member Of the Resistance?” “I repeat, I wanted    ...    ” • “Does the term The ‘Holocaust Industry’ Mean anything to you?” “What’s that?” Asks Lanzmann. (I warned Kolya That Lanzmann wouldn’t Understand Or would pretend Not to understand What that means.) “The Holocaust Industry Usually means The use of the memory Of the destruction of the Jews During World War II To legitimate, in part, The State of Israel.” The translator starts To worry. She suspects us Of anti-Semitism. But we are like Lanzmann Who came to Moscow To do this strange interview, Without revealing his secrets. He won’t talk, He’s hard as a rock, This man whose youth Is reflected In our cocky Faces. Lanzmann himself has conducted Many interviews: With Franz Suchomel, The SS Unterscharführer, With  Jan Karski, And others. He knows very well How to walk His subjects Into this or that Confession Or experience, All while leveraging His moral authority. And here, gradually, In the words of this master Of the interview, We begin to detect The artistic position Which we so oppose. “I, you know, just Slapped together this Thing. I was interested In the human aspect. As for ideas And theories That’s not my bag.” • Of course, many artists Take this stand. They don’t interest us at all. But Lanzmann, on the one hand, Enjoys this status As an artist who works with Emotions, memories, His own and other people’s Experiences, that is, more with Emotions than with documents. On the other hand, he knew Full well that his film Would be received As a political proclamation, That it would quickly occupy the heart Of intellectual and socio- Political debates. To work on people’s feelings, As an artist, while at the same time Refusing to engage in rational Explanations, of the sort Demanded of intellectuals — really This is the same stuff as using the “Incomprehensibility” of Hitler Or the destruction of the Jews As a form of political argument — And this is the shameful Hypocrisy of our friend Lanzmann. How to save himself From this disgrace The old man Lanzmann Does not know. But we know, and we’ll tell: You need to speak about Israel You need to speak about Israel In this is the key to immortality This is the burning wound And it is Lanzmann who understands this He knows that politics is the wound On the body of history. An unnecessary, unwanted wound That will not heal. To refuse to forget politics To refuse to tear Israel From one’s heart — Because politics is Always here, And Palestine is a bloody wound that says: Politics is Always here. You can’t hide from it At the supermarket, You can’t run from it With beautiful words. And old man Lanzmann Understands this, He knows that Politics is the wound On the body of history. In its inability to process its own Information, A rejection of politics Leads to senility. (Only later would I find This passage In an interview Lanzmann gave To Der Spiegel: Spiegel: You write That the Israeli military doctor Who gave you a check-up Before you flew in a fighter plane Said you could live Until a hundred and twenty. Are you worried about Death right now, At your age? Lanzmann: I have no age. I constantly think Of death, including My own. At the same time This remains totally Unreal. As I said Earlier, only life Has any meaning.) • “Does the term The ‘Holocaust Industry’ Mean anything to you?” “I don’t want To talk About Israel. I repeat: You are thinking In abstract Categories.” “Yes, but your film Became the center Of intellectual Debate — About the uniqueness Of the Holocaust, About the supposed Anti-Semitism Of the Poles. Many Thought that your movie Made the Poles out To be Anti-Semites.” “Israel exists Under impossible Pressure. Its army must be judged According to different measures. The Israeli Merkava tank Was created In impossible conditions. Israeli tank officers Love their Merkavas, They are obliged To have them always At the ready. And you, instead of Building up Abstract Theories, Should try harder To create artistic works ... An artist has his own Way of seeing.” And so on. The director is tired. It’s time for a rest. “Communists? I know your path. First, revolution; then firing squads.” A warning from the attaché — Our time Is almost up. This will be Our last question And our judgment of the gray Old man Will be simple. He has just one moment left To die young. But what did the fog of those eyes Communicate? Vague sentence fragments, A dry, unpleasant refusal? • “Hang in there, boys. Be strong just one more time. Communists never surrender.” Translated from the Russian