Russia (bbabo.net), - Publisher and publicist Boris Kupriyanov, whose speeches I always listen to with great interest, is sounding the alarm. On the Gorky portal, he posted an article "Why autofiction is not needed"

But first, let's explain what autofiction is. This term was coined in 1977 by the French writer and essayist Serge Dubrovsky, who gave this definition to his novel The Son (Fils). The term consists of two words: auto (self) and fiction (fiction). Roughly speaking, autofiction is a cross between memoirs and literature. However, a rough explanation does not explain anything.

If autofiction is memoirs elevated to fiction, then even in classical Russian literature we will find many examples of this. "The Past and Thoughts" by Alexander Herzen. "Childhood of Bagrov's grandson" by Sergei Aksakov. Or two trilogies by Leo Tolstoy and Maxim Gorky ("Childhood", "Adolescence", "Youth" and "Childhood", "In People", "My Universities").

But can you say it's autofiction? No.

No matter what smart people say about this genre, scandalousness always accompanies autofiction. For example, Anatoly Mariengof "A novel without lies." The story of their adventures with Sergei Yesenin, in which, of course, there are a lot of lies. Or "It's me - Eddie!" Edward Limonov. Written back in 1976 in New York by a Russian emigrant who hates New York and loves himself, however, also to some pathological disgust.

No matter what smart people say about the autofiction genre, it is always scandalous

But if we take, say, the memoirs of Konstantin Simonov "Through the Eyes of a Man of My Generation. Reflections on Stalin" - a book that was published after the author's death in 1988 and caused a serious reader's response, then you can't fasten it to autofiction. Simonov did not write this text, hoping to play with himself, and even more so with Stalin, as with characters in fiction. Even less did he think of shocking someone. There is a lot of personal, even repentant, in this confession, but there is not the slightest calculation of winning some conditional literary prize.

Autofiction is based on another very fashionable now concept of "coming out" (coming out: "exit", "disclosure"). In a broader sense, this is the voluntary disclosure of one's true essence to someone. "Now I'll tell you all what a scoundrel I am!" In the narrow sense, in which, in fact, this term is now used, this is the public disclosure of one's sexual orientation or gender identity. Recently, coming-outs have become a general phenomenon in the world of "stars" of cinema and show business. Well, if the "star" after a public statement about his true "essence" also writes a little book, then here's a ready-made autofiction. Because everything there will seem to be terribly sincere, but there will be much more fiction, or, to put it simply, lies. Such is the law of this insidious genre. You kind of write about yourself extremely openly, but at the same time you play with yourself as a character and, even if you say terrible things about yourself, you still admire yourself between the lines. For what kind of writer does not love his hero?

This, I repeat, is the insidiousness of the autofiction genre. Sad as it may seem, but the traditional hero of fiction has aged a lot and lost his attractiveness over the course of several centuries of his existence. He (she) no longer evokes such vivid and direct emotions in readers that the characters of Flaubert, Stendhal, Dickens, Tolstoy or Dostoevsky once evoked. He lost that romantic halo that he admired in the heroes of Gorky and London. We do not believe in his existential revelations and pessimistic view of the world, as we believed in similar experiences of the heroes of Remarque and Hemingway. We don't really believe in anything right now. Or we believe in what we should not believe in.

Here are the statistics provided by Ozon, naming the most popular books among Russians of the last decade. The leader in the number of sales is the book "I want and I will" by psychologist Mikhail Labkovsky. Since its release in 2017, it has been bought over 100,000 times. In second place is The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People by American coach Stephen Covey. On the third - "Secret support. Affection in the life of a child" by Lyudmila Petranovskaya.

Novelists, where are you - ay?!

This does not mean that traditional novels are not in demand. Every year, thousands of novels come out in the world - family sagas, parenting novels, love stories, teenage novels, and so on and so forth and so on. Someone publishes them, and someone buys them. Some of them become bestsellers. "Laurel" by Evgeny Vodolazkin, "Abode" by Zakhar Prilepin, "Zuleikha opens her eyes" by Guzel Yakhina - I name only domestic examples.

The total victory of the autofiction genre will mean the death of literature as suchBut there is, as they say, a trend. Interest in traditional serious fiction is gradually fading away. And here autofiction turns out to be a saving straw. Moreover, female authors are clearly in the lead in this field (it seems that now we should say "authors"). Women have nothing to lose. During the five centuries of its existence, the field of traditional romance has been so trampled by men that it is better to seek your own clearing. At least two books by female writers have recently aroused increased interest: "Look at him" by Anna Starobinets and "Wound" by Oksana Vasyakina. The books are different, but they have one thing in common - a complete female revelation about extremely female problems. I won't say which ones exactly, I'm afraid to say something wrong, but now it's risky.

So why isn't autofiction needed? The title of Kupriyanov's article is, of course, provocative. He knows perfectly well that all genres are good, except for boring ones. But the essence of his thought is that the total victory of the autofiction genre will mean the death of literature as such. It is unlikely that this will happen in the near future. But, as they say, there is a trend ...

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