The hero of Vyacheslav Kupriyanov’s composition is a writer. Pomereshchensky is a composite image of a famous writer who in his works follows shifting symbols of mass media information. This is the kind of writer it is dangerous to publish collected works of—because it will immediately become clear that Pomereshchensky has no thoughts of his own, and if he does have anything related to mental and creative activity, it is mostly impressions from all sorts of meetings and collisions—either with people or with countries. That’s why the entire text of the novel about Pomereshchensky is made up of all kinds of associations, where a contemporary writer meets either the history of belles-lettres that surprises him, or rumors that do not surprise him at all, or all sorts of absurdities, or strange sensations scattered throughout the whole space of the novel. The text by Vyacheslav Kupriyanov is funny, ironic, but by no means cruel. It is, as it were, a history of modern literature told in brief—its essence.