Alexander Arnaudov

- Bulgaria -

Alexander Arnaudov was born on November 11, 1998, in Sofia. He is an alumnus of the American College of Sofia. He lives in Scotland, where he completed a Master's degree in "IT and Management" at the University of St. Andrews. In 2018, he was awarded by the National Youth Poetry Contest "Veselin Hanchev." Since the beginning of the same year, he has been an editor of the online magazine "New Asocial Poetry" and a founder of an NGO with the same name. In 2019, he was awarded first prize in the National Literary Competitions "Art Against Drugs" and "Georgi Chernyakov." "Bottom in the Sky" (edited by Ivan Hristov, IK Znatsi 2019) is his debut book. In 2020, he received first prize in the National Literary Competition "Sea." He holds the title of laureate (accompanying award) in the literary festivals "Southern Spring" and the national competition "Academician Nikolai Liliev." He has been published in Literary Newspaper, Literary Club, Liternet, and E-substance. In 2022, he received second prize in the National Literary Competition "Sea." "Biography of the Abyss" (edited by Ivan Hristov, IK Znatsi 2023) is his second book.


Alexander Arnaudov makes a sharp turn in Bulgarian poetry by addressing the society's recent "taboo topic." In "Biography of the Abyss," the author is calm; he no longer lives through his life but observes it humbly. His poetry is gentle, unobtrusive, with no attempts to change what has already passed. He "inhabits the abyss of the parent" within him without seeking reasons, without asking why "the skin spreads."

 

The remarkable thing about this book is not that it is biographical—we have encountered that many times before—but that it is so incredibly sincere. Uncomfortably honest and whole. Alexander Arnaudov declares to us that "parents are a scar / that forgot / it needs to heal," and he is not afraid of the response from the other side; he does not fear fighting for his statement, fighting for the child's right within him. He presents us with a personal story about childhood, a place where he seemingly hasn't allowed himself to return often, but the power of his words has overcome him, outpaced reason, to bring the only possible catharsis—sharing. The child within him no longer fights just against the family but stands up against a world that, in the author's experience, "drowns out the cries for help."

 

Even though it follows a more personal story, an individual struggle, this book is also social. Unlike his previous works, here the author transcends his own experiences and entangles himself in the issues of the young generation, in the lack of home and comfort. Saying "the silence in me is a child / that will not be born," he speaks about us, about all those who "build a home / in which they will not be born." The theme of birth is common in the book, and through it, Arnaudov, or rather the child within him, tries to tell us something he seemingly hadn't had the courage to share before: the doubt whether he even deserves a place here.

 

Another frequently encountered image is the shadow. The author has separated from himself, from body and spirit, from memories and disappointments. His shadow follows him but can no longer harm him, and he observes it with curiosity, follows its movements: now it is "a homeless person in a family portrait," now "a foreigner at the bottom of the world," but it is no longer himself. Alexander Arnaudov takes us through hell, through rejection, unlovedness, threat, orphanhood, and lack of home, to lead us to the only possible remedy for the past: "there are no survivors in my memory."

 

A book of experience. Of the ability to survive. Of outsmarting the past. A book about the journey to hell and back. A book about memory as a weapon, even though "the new generation has spent all its bullets."

 

The movement towards and within the personal abyss of Alexander Arnaudov follows a strict chronological sequence, and perhaps not coincidentally, the steps bear names that start with the letter "A"... just like Hell (in Bulgarian, "Ad"). The descent is a biography of birth into death, of life as an accident, of leaving and returning to nothingness, but also a question to oneself – do you stay or leave forever? This poetry is a search for human habitation, a definition of oneself, a sense of non-being as absolute freedom, a realization that "in this world we will not be," a cult of the heart without gender. It is also a message from the abyss, perhaps the most important message – "pass on freedom."

 

In the end, it turns out that the abyss is a universal concept of freedom, so infinite that it can encompass not only the boundaries of your personal heart but also the entire existing world within it. A beautiful metaphor of emptiness, that black hole from which we all come and to which we will all eventually return. But before that, we must pass through the Hell of our lives. To add our own piece of darkness to eternity.

 

I don't know to what extent the reader is ready to admit that this author's biography, with all its brutality, is somewhat valid for themselves as well. But one thing is certain – Alexander Arnaudov has grown in his words to such an extent that he has the right to write his "Biography of the Abyss." And no one can dispute the facts within it.

 

Kameliya Panayotova