“Bogdanov imagined pulling out his revolver and shooting his heart. Then he would have tied the anchor to the corpse, he would have knocked it overboard, and he would have thrown the gun behind his body. The stories of Leonid Voloch would be lost forever at the bottom of the gulf. His journey on the socialist planet would have died with him. A philosophical story. A novel of science and fantasy that no one would ever read “.
Moscow, 1927. Let your stories mingle with reality to the point where you come to life: is not this the secret dream of every narrator? This is what happens to Aleksandr Bogdanov, writer of science fiction, but also revolutionary, scientist and philosopher. While preparations are under way to celebrate the tenth anniversary of the October Revolution and the showdown between Stalin and his opponents is approaching, the author of the famous Red Star receives a visit from a character who seems to have come straight out of the pages of his novel. It is an opportunity to retrace the steps of a life lived on the edge of the abyss, between insurrections, exile and wars, chasing the ghost of an old lost companion along the way. A search that will deeply shake the convictions of a lifetime. “They head to the exit, passing between the models on display. The different rockets seem to reveal the provenance of their designers. That of Max Valier, South Tyrolean, is a spindle of metal and German will, with two stubby wings, similar to arms, each ending in a pointed missile. The spaceship of Federov is a tin whale, full of mysterious diverticula and extroflexed trumpets, which one imagines to navigate melancholy and Russian to other galaxies. Goddard’s lunar torpedo is a giant, no-frills, pragmatic, and Yankee bullet. The Esnault-Pelterie aircraft are butterflies of French elegance, while the four-stage rocket engine with a double reaction engine, of the Italian Gussalli, is baroque from the name ».
Original Italian text follows (above is Google translated)
«Bogdanov immaginò di estrarre la rivoltella e sparargli al cuore. Poi avrebbe legato l’ancora al cadavere, l’avrebbe rovesciato in mare e dietro al corpo avrebbe gettato la pistola. Le storie di Leonid Voloch sarebbero andate perdute per sempre in fondo al golfo. Il suo viaggio sul pianeta socialista sarebbe morto con lui. Un racconto filosofico. Un romanzo di scienza e di fantasia che nessuno avrebbe mai letto».
Wu ming Collective: https://www.wumingfoundation.com/giap/tag/proletkult/