The anti-fascist theme in the work of Pavel Vezhinov

What, in fact, does Vezhinov write about? About the anti-fascist movement, which has its historical coordinates, its documentary basis and its heroes, immersed in its everyday life? Or about man in the infinity of the world, the longevity of history? Doesn't the writer shake off the concrete excitements of the struggle too energetically? Doesn't he leave the heroes of the battles in the shadows, carried away by the desire to encompass the great contours of the human spirit? How many authors have begun and ended by showing shootings, by describing actions, by the picture of the September 9th rally? Why isn't Vezhinov absorbed in the visible? Why didn't his grandfather Shtilyan stay with his medical bag, and we hear him persistently say: "Surely something remains of us in this world - a frog, a nightingale... Otherwise, what would be the point?" Why didn't Viktor die heroically in battle, but fell ridiculously, uselessly? Why don't we hear in his dying sigh that historic "Death to fascism. Long live...", but rather the feverish: "Can you imagine a sky without stars?... You can't, of course... The stars are within us, our destiny."