Why isn't there anyone in Russia who writes like David Sedaris?

Let me explain. I recently read an anthology of stories by the popular U.S. writer, which is slated to appear soon in Russian translation. The book, titled "Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim," isn't exactly a collection of short stories or essays; rather, it's something in between, a kind of middle ground untrodden by Russian authors. You can't define its genre as journalism with literary value -- something aimed at, but missed, by all of Russia's "New Yorker" imitators. Such writing is unheard of here, because in Russia it's almost impossible to find someone who can write a good story and actually do something to research it, such as talk to people or, God forbid, travel somewhere to obtain information. You know, the boring stuff unworthy of a writer's vocation. This much is obvious.

Here, however, we're dealing with something different. Sedaris writes about his family; he describes a teenage slumber party, his mother's sleeping habits, a visit to one of his sisters and her garrulous parrot, and the curious Christmas traditions of the Dutch. So why does this lead to a nagging feeling that nothing remotely similar could be produced by any Russian author in the foreseeable future?

A few reasons come to mind. First, the attention span of the Russian reader seems to be remarkably long; one cannot aspire to the status of a great Russian writer by composing anything shorter than "War and Peace." Secondly, Sedaris' writing is close to journalism, a genre scorned by local literati. This is especially so in Sedaris' case because he doesn't have any clear agenda, political or otherwise, and Russian literature has always been a literature of ideas. Thirdly, Sedaris writes about his family -- even if it is a very dysfunctional one -- and family values aren't overly popular with Russian readers. Finally, no post-Soviet author could ever write so casually about his homosexuality.

Curiously, some women's writing comes to mind as the closest thing to a similar style in Russia: Tatyana Tolstaya at her least vitriolic, rare as that may be, or the funny online diary of Tatyana Oleinik, who used to write articles about workouts and sex under male pen names for the Russian version of "Men's Health." Humor, wit, stylistic mastery -- these qualities can be found in Russian short prose. But the poignancy and deep, unaffected sentimentality of Sedaris' stories are virtually absent from our literature today. Which probably says more about us than we really wanted to know.