Belarusians have long been accustomed to books that are impossible to find in stores for various reasons. More and more often, books are being censored, but there are some that are sold out faster than new print runs can be produced. Tatyana Zamirovskaya's novel "Smerti.net" is popular not only in her homeland but also internationally. Moreover, it is published not in Belarus, but the majority of reviews come from Moscow intellectuals, professional literary critics, and admirers of philosophical prose. Despite "Smerti.net" being written in Russian, its specifics are distinctly Belarusian. And we will try to prove that.
The main question in modern Belarusian literature is, "Can a writer be considered Belarusian if they write in Russian their whole life?.." In the case of Tatyana Zamirovskaya, this question is resolved simply. Since 2015, she has been living in New York, and most of her books are written there. Regarding the national affiliation of her works, it can now be said quite clearly: they are written by a Russian-speaking American writer of Belarusian origin. Or a writer from Belarus. Whichever one prefers. Therefore, there is nothing strange in the definition of "Russian-speaking, American, Belarusian" in this case. New York has always been Tatyana Zamirovskaya's spiritual homeland. Her unique authorial style, both in fiction and journalism, developed primarily under the influence of books by Jack Kerouac, William Burroughs, Ken Kesey, and Tom Wolfe. And only then under the influence of the ordinary idols of her generation of perestroika - Vladimir Nabokov and Daniil Kharms. Her idols, or rather friends from the Belarusian literature, walked with her on the streets of Minsk and sat in cafes - Adam Globus, Valzhina Mort, Sergei "Pistonchik" Prilutsky, Ilya Sin. However, it's better not to dwell on Belarusians. The writer herself can tell better about her contemporaries. And she can do it in beautiful Belarusian: despite never visiting Minsk during her years of emigration, she stays connected in every sense. In fact, our interpretation of "Smerti.net" is precisely about that.
Most reviewers of "Death.net" specifically mention cyberpunk, where there's both fantasy and postmodernism, among other things. Moreover, there's hardly any science, meaning technology and sciences, in the novel. The author is more concerned with emotions and feelings rather than technical inventions.
It might surprise many, but the book about virtual avatars of deceased individuals and their communication with remaining friends and relatives is based on entirely real scenarios. In fact, this is true for all of Tatiana Zamirovskaya's artistic works. Throughout her life, she has been a consistent advocate of gonzo journalism. "Death.net" and her previous three collections of stories, one of which was entirely written in America, are a whimsical reflection on events and people, filtered through the postmodernist prism of the author's talent.
The style of the writer is usually characterized as postmodernist and psychedelic. It's hard to deny that all of her works stem from postmodernism, although, according to nitpickers and literary critics, the latter has long ended. Most reviewers of "Smerti.net" specifically mention cyberpunk, where both fantasy and postmodernism, among other elements, are present. Moreover, there's practically no science, meaning the technical aspects like sciences and technologies, in the novel. The writer is more concerned with emotions and feelings rather than technical inventions.
It doesn't make sense to deny the shades of the fantastic genre and fantasy in "Smerti.net." The main character of the novel—understood as the alter ego of the writer, i.e., a regular character in her prose—suddenly finds herself on the other side of life and death and communicates with the remaining loved ones through some technology, her virtual double, which continues to exist in the digital afterlife.
The plot isn't entirely new for fantasy. Moreover, it's not entirely fantasy anymore: here and there, technologies of artificial intelligence appear, allowing the living to communicate with deceased relatives and friends. The personality of the deceased in such cases is reconstructed from the content of their social networks and conversations. In the era of digital posthumanism and virtual reality, such projects are no longer surprising, especially since writers of previous generations have anticipated them in almost every detail.
"Smerti.net" does not contain detailed descriptions of a bright technological future. Moreover, it is more of an anti-utopia than anything else if we were to define its genre. Tatyana Zamirovskaya's novel is about what remains with a person in the present, specifically about those emotions that do not die when parting with loved ones. A certain A., an important person for the main heroine of the novel, communicates with the resurrected deceased in the digital space as if with a living person, only temporarily gone somewhere. Where? Yes, Belarusians, you guessed it. Precisely in emigration. Beyond that state border that separates Belarusians from their homeland, perhaps as reliably as the Styx separates the world of the living from the world of the dead.
An ordinary Belarusian will read "Smerti.net" by Tatyana Zamirovskaya as an ideal metaphor for bidding farewell to their homeland. Communication between the dead and the living, and as it turns out, between the living and the dead, is organized in the book exactly the same way as "those who left" with "those who stayed" and the remaining ones with the departed—through messengers and social networks. One difference: in the last two and a half years, there have been more Belarusians on the other side than on this. And if in the year of the novel's release, the "dead" could still be understood as "those who left," now they are probably "those who stayed."
Migration, forced or unforced, desired or undesired, has always been part of Belarusian national history and mentality. For centuries, for Belarusians, migration practically equated to death. Those who did not want to remain forever in an unnamed forest grave were forced to flee beyond the country's borders with no hope of ever seeing their relatives and loved ones again. Departed ones often didn't even send letters, let alone make phone calls. Therefore, emigration in the new, digital era looks quite different from what it was 30-40 years ago. People leave, and their identities continue to be present in virtual reality. For Belarusians scattered around the world, internet communication has become the primary means of communication. "Smerti.net" is precisely about endless connections online and simultaneously about complete loneliness and the drama of the absence of live communication between the closest ones.
In Tatyana Zamirovskaya's imagined "internet for the dead," just like in our familiar network, one can communicate with an interlocutor for years, as if they are in the next room, and never see them again in real life. For the post-human civilization, where a digital trace means more than a flesh-and-blood creature, there is no difference whether you communicate with a living person or an artificial intelligence creation. And the notions of "death" and "dead" that the writer uses are precisely a beautiful irony towards the world of the living. Behind this trademark irony and light satire on a world where it's so easy to save yourself countless times (and get confused in your saved versions!), the author hides much more complex emotions. It seems these are the emotions we don't like to demonstrate, separated by state borders, minefields, and covered with the saving gloss of Instagram.
"Smerti.net" is brimming with philosophical reflections, making it a true existential drama, albeit disguised as non-scientific fiction. The author writes about the unbearable situation where a person's mind is fully accessible, but only memories remain of their body, smile, and scent. This theme resonates with contemporary sci-fi cinema, such as the work of American director Kogonada's "After Yang," which was released in the same year as Tatyana Zamirovskaya's book, along with other films and series appealing to millennials and zoomers. These narratives depict events unfolding non-linearly, with characters stuck like bees in honey in an atomized society of the future-present. The global situation further adds to the tragedy of the novel released in 2021.
The chronotope of digital death has its own essence. For the characters in the book, time stands still. More precisely, it becomes meaningless—the novel's plot constantly jumps back and forth along a conditional timeline. Since her early steps in literature, Tatyana Zamirovskaya has been known as a master of short but rich stories. Many of them could stretch into full-fledged novellas. Likewise, "Smerti.net" can be metaphorically sliced into dozens of autonomous stories, many of which could serve as the basis for a separate book or even a screenplay.
The novel's text itself represents an endless inner dialogue of the main heroine with herself. Tatyana Zamirovskaya's authorial style has been compared (albeit unsuccessfully) from her earliest stories to the prose of Ludmila Petrushevskaya and the fantasies of Vladimir Sorokin. However, if there is any parallel to be drawn with a work of world literature, despite its dissimilarities, it would be with Marcel Proust's famous opus. The characters in Proust's work also live in a world of memories and associations. And Tatyana Zamirovskaya's writing style is similarly complex and intricate, challenging for readers to grasp, much like the language of the French genius of modernism. "Smerti.net" envelops the reader like a warm, viscous mass. It demands absolute engagement in the narrative and doesn't let go until the very last pages. Although compared to the author's other books, Zamirovskaya's style has become more refined and accessible to readers.
Nevertheless, "Smerti.net" is not an easy read. It requires great attentiveness, not just to the text but to oneself. Tatyana Zamirovskaya has created a sort of psychoanalysis session for those separated by thousands of kilometers and years of distance. It's no wonder the novel leaves more questions than answers, indirectly reflected in the seemingly numerous but contradictory reviews and critiques: there is little reflection in them, more descriptions.
Indeed, reflecting on this slice of reality, where our writers and readers find themselves, is quite challenging. Hence, the ironic title of one review of the book "We'll all be there..." is genuinely amusing. We're already there.
