Svidrigaylov is leaving for America.
About this "departure" of his I gave a talk at the University of Iowa in 1994.
After the talk a Chilean writer
sporting a newly fashionable goatee
asked me to write down Svidrigaylov's name in the Roman alphabet.
He had read "Crime and Punishment" but didn't remember there was such a character.
Hey, you, Svidrigaylov.
What do you think of pleasure?
It is - what each person imagines for himself.
And pain?
Pain - Pain is something other than pleasure but not so much other as to be its contrary.
In certain cases pleasure arises in the conditions of a certain rhythmic alternation of painful sensations.
Will you fly in the hot air balloon with Berg?
Possibly.
You aren't afraid of death?
When I photograph myself alone at train stations or airports I throw away or tear up the photograph into little pieces, which I allow myself to throw out the window if it's a train or leave in an ashtray or inside a magazine if it's a plane.
Pause.
The fear of death lacks its own particular content, it is analogous to the fear of castration.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I'm in a dilemma. Is this poetry or prose?
modern poetry tends to elude the boundaries :)