Zot Kornilovich Tobolkin. Expressive reading of a haymaking scene by a schoolchild

Sad jester

In memory of my father

Part one

And the buffoon sometimes cries

Be afraid, daddy! - Timka exhaled hoarsely, jerked to the side and blew away the wet rye strand that obscured his daring green eyes. The hand automatically grabbed the knife from the belt. That’s how she’s trained, the hand: it saves your head. Another head will not grow: not a lizard’s tail. - It’s rushing at us, by God!

Howl, damned one! - Pikan barked. - You are wasting the name of God!

He twisted the hem of his caftan, tucked it into his belt so as not to get in the way, and revealed himself to the owner. The bear was pressing, and the gun was unloaded. The rod was broken off by another bear, whose skin was hanging from the sleigh.

I pray for him... God will not leave him.

Save your prayer for the evening if you want to be alive,” Timka advised, retreating into the bushes in case. The father did not hear him, he fearlessly attacked the bear, as if the beast had awakened in him, and - beast against beast: who would win. They came face to face, both clubfooted, brown, both in a furious frenzy. The father shook his long beard, saying a prayer, believing in its miraculousness, or maybe out of habit - everywhere with prayer - he muttered gloomy words. The bear, rearing up, pressed its back against the foliage and roared. In small amazed eyes, full of resentment and rage, the sun rolled around. Both bloodthirstiness and this kind light were contained in tiny eyes, and the man, with his back turned to the sun, which had just emerged from behind the clouds, forgetting his prayer and repeating only the word “fence”, advanced.

The bear, offended and muffled, rushed at Pikan, squeezed him with his front paws, trying to grab him by the face with his stinking fanged mouth. Groaning and pushing until he was brick red, Pikan turned the animal’s head back. Clawed paws tore at durable clothing and furrowed the body.

In the name of the Lord, submit! - the man demanded. The bear screamed, stalking him right and left - it wasn’t prayer that bothered him, it was pain and rage.

The forest was silent, at other times full of various sounds, crackling, rustling, bird whistles; The snow creaked under the paws and soles, muffled thuds were heard, puffing, fussing, and sometimes roaring. The bear and the man, as if in agreement, screamed together in thick, low voices, then fell silent, and strength arose upon strength.

Worried about his father, Timka rushed to the rescue, but Pikan fiercely besieged him:

Don't go! I can handle it myself... I can handle it myself! - and with a last terrible effort he threw the bear onto his back. Whether the animal’s neck turned out to be weak, or the Pomor’s hands, accustomed to oars and an ax, were inhumanly strong, but the man prevailed. The animal kicked with its legs (they recognized the bear), hit the ground with its muzzle, splashing bloody foam, but it was all over.

Finish her off? Finish it? - Timka tortured. The knife aimed at the bear's shoulder blade. Blink father - he will enter like lightning.

Knit... we’ll take you home,” and when Timka jumped up to him with braided belt reins, he shouted: “Yes, face, face first!” The stench is unbearable!

A halter was placed over the muzzle.

The father is squeamish: he cannot stand the bad smell. It keeps mint in the room all winter, and in the spring wild rosemary expels the persistent smell of the hut, dissolving the windows wide open.

It’s not good, the she-bear smelled rotten. Seeing a pile under the beast, Ivan spat angrily:

Ugh, evil spirits! Knit quickly!

Pulling off the beast’s mouth and bandaging its paws, leaving room for a small step, Timka attached a leash to the bear’s crumpled neck. He was knitting and whispering something. At first the animal struggled, flexed its paws, then relaxed its limbs and submitted.

The prayer made me feel salty,” Timka grinned, revealing his wide teeth. He seemed to have more teeth than all other people. And they are strong, like self-cast anchors. They would often hit him in the teeth for his impudent tongue, his head would twitch, they would beat him, but nothing would happen to him. But just as he slaps his shoulder, the fighters spit out their wire cutters in rows. Fierce, fierce in a fight Timka! But he fights with a smile: they say, I hit not because I’m angry, but to teach him sense. To tell the truth, the guy is not large in appearance, but he is wiry, hard as a horse’s hoof, and evasive. He was all wrapped up in fists and a smile. The smile is noticeable, from ear to ear. And along the arms, swelling like a stream, swollen veins flow. And the forehead is full of mighty old man’s wrinkles. The eyes and teeth are desperate, impudent, and the wrinkles seem sad. And when he jokes, and he jokes constantly, you can hear some kind of sadness behind the words, premature, not youthful sadness.

See, a bunch, cough... I piled up good things... for the prayers of our holy fathers...

Speak up, bartender! - His father’s hefty fist rose above Timka’s head. How easy is it to get hold of this poor head: a spinner, a snake! - Don’t you have faith in miraculous powers? And she, you see, tamed a wild animal...

I tamed... with your hands,” the mischievous son, tickling the shuddering bear with a spruce paw, washed his teeth. No matter how much Ivan beats the buffoonish habits out of him, the fool becomes numb. There used to be people sitting at the dinner table, and they were afraid to say an extra word. This one blurts out at random - all the spoons hang in front of their mouths. The guests are choking with laughter. Father on his forehead, but you can stop it when he himself is drawn to laughter. Such a child of Satan, neither his mother nor his father: he was born with a laugh. As the voice sounded, emerging from the mother’s womb, they thought he was crying... They jumped up from the table: at the Christmas matinee they ate shangi and pies. They began to gasp and express their condolences to the mother in labor, and he was curled up in his godfather’s arms, waving his little arms, twisting his little legs, and in his mouth two incisors glowed with milky drops...

The Eater is born! - the godfather rejoiced, bringing the baby to his father. - Sit at the table!

Pikan also has an eldest son, Mitya, who is tall like his father, but not like him, a quiet, heavenly kindness boy. Daughter Avdotya is also a meek, kind-hearted girl. Brown hair, blue eyes, and a dove-like voice, lulling. Mitriy and Timka have fair hair like their mother, both have green, motherly eyes. Only Mitya’s are meek and radiant, while Timka’s are piercingly cold, and each has a demon at work.

Look what he's doing, idol! He jumped onto the mother bear's backbone and gave chase.

But, buruha! No, let's go! - and with his heels on the ribs, with a fist on the back of the neck. - Rus' is bigger than you, but saddled. No matter, lucky! But, the forest was scary!

And the creature listened and took the guy away. Where did obedience come from in the wild? Or do senseless animals really understand the youngest son? Pikan has remarked more than once: Timka has an inexplicable, terrible power over the animal. It used to be that a deer would catch a forest animal, and he would follow on his heels like a little dog. Once he brought a wolf cub from the forest. He kept talking to him, teaching him, as if he knew the language of animals. They ate from the same bowl and went to bed together. For this, Ivan removed his son from the common table. But Timka doesn’t have enough grief. Apparently, it was not for nothing that she was nicknamed Barma. Barma is a remote, wild place. There Timka escaped from his father's wrath - they didn't see him for a month. And he was guilty of scraping off the face of the Mother of God on the icon and drawing Potapovna instead... They thought he had disappeared, but he showed up alive with the same wolf cub, he had grown hairy, gone wild, and just couldn’t purr. Since then, Ivan was very afraid of a fight: the guy had a temper, his pride was satanic. If you offend me a little, he will disappear again, look for him then, fistula. And why bother in vain: Pikan, unlike his deceased father, weakly guards his former faith. He burned himself and thirty other coreligionists for her, for his former faith. He would have burned his son and grandchildren with him, but Pikan’s family was among the tsar’s workers that year. They drove away from Svetlukha under escort. And Ivan tasted the whip, and hung on the rack, but there was no need to call: they gave the ax in his hands - stubbornness was gone. Ivan became drunk from the tart smell of wood chips, and became deaf from the sound of an axe. And it was as if someone had bewitched the sons: from morning to night they worked at the shipyard. The skeleton of the ship grew, the sides rose, the masts rose. And until they put him on the water, until the tight sails swelled and a wave splashed, split in two, Pikan and his sons walked around wildly. Dunya and Potapovna didn’t even invite them home: they brought food directly to the forests.

It happened that the king, under the command of Pikan, worked as a carpenter; If anything goes wrong, Pikan will cover the autocrat with the worst words, but immediately, coming to his senses, he will begin to apologize to the Savior: “Forgive, Lord, your many-sinful servant...” Pyotr Alekseevich cackles like a goose in the autumn, and those around him, to please him, neigh . Ivan is even more angry: why are they trying to help? In the heat of the moment - and this has happened - he will push someone without any respect for his dignity. One day he threw the Ratman himself overboard.

Remember, you stinker! - the disgraced ratman gritted his teeth. I was once a street servant myself, I forgot. From profit-makers to big ones.

I hear it from the stink! - Barma snapped proudly.

Ivan was struck by his son’s proud disobedience: “You’re impertinent to me, you bastard! You will suffer a lot for this!” For the sake of order, he lashed Barma with a belt. What a belt, when fists were just broken on it.

...The bear is scratching like crazy - you can’t keep up with a horse! Ryzhko trudges slowly, skidding along the sledge in the thunder. They contain the carcass and skin of a bear. It was a nice hunt, but a nice one!

In a large family of a collective farmer. His childhood, like that of the entire generation, stretched through the tragic time of the war, which took away his older brothers. He managed to complete only four classes of day school: at the age of eleven he began working and tried many professions - trailer driver, tractor driver, electrician, mechanic, stonecutter, fireman, assembler, surveyor.

In 1950 he entered a vocational school in Krasnodar and at the same time studied at evening school. From 1952 to 1954 he worked as a mechanic at the Sedin plant. Served in the ranks of the Soviet Army. In 1959, he passed the entrance exams to the Ural State University named after M. Gorky, to the Faculty of Journalism. He combined his studies with work as a mechanic and fireman. Since 1964, after graduating from university, he worked in newspapers, radio and television in Tyumen and Nizhnevartovsk. In 1975 he graduated from the Higher Directing Courses in Moscow. In 1972, the first stories were published in the magazines Sovremennik and Krestyanka. The Tobolsk Drama Theater staged Tobolkin's drama "Geologists". Later, his dramas are shown in the Tyumen, Ulyanovsk, Gorky, Tobolsk, and Armavir theaters. In 1977, the Central Ural Book Publishing House published a collection of plays, “The Most Important People.” Several plays receive awards at All-Union competitions, the plays “Brothers” and “About Tatyana” are staged in Moscow theaters.

About the difficulties of collective farm construction, about the formation of that great force that defeated fascism - his novel “Fall to the Ground.” The novel “Lebyazhy” is dedicated to the discovery and development of the oil and gas province of the Tyumen region. The novel “The Sad Jester” covers the end of the Peter the Great era; it is a novel about the first settlers and explorers of Siberia, about the formation of the Russian state. Stories, essays, novels, and novels are published in many magazines and publishing houses throughout the country.

Member of the USSR Writers' Union since 1975.

Lives and works in Tyumen.

From the book: Writers of the Tyumen region: bibliogr. decree. – Sverdlovsk, 1988. – P. 89-90.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

The book includes stories, journalistic and literary articles, including those about Z. Tobolkin.

There are brief information about the writers of the Tyumen regionand their works.

Works by Z. Tobolkin, published in separate books:

Runway: Drama; I believe!: drama (M., 1974), Once upon a time Kuzma: drama (M., 1975), Leader: play (M., 1975), The Tale of Anna (Black Bath): tragedy (M., 1975 ), Sunflower: a fairy tale (M., 1976), Fall to the ground: a novel (M., 1976), Black Bath (The Tale of Anna): a tragedy (M., 1977), The most important people: plays (Sverdlovsk, 1977), Ducks Are Flying: drama (M., 1977), Solveig's Song: drama. poem (M., 1978), Lebyazhy: novel, stories (M., 1979), About Tatyana: drama (M., 1980), Once upon a time Kuzma: stories (Sverdlovsk, 1981), Requiem: a tragedy (M., 1981), 1982), Happy Village (It happened in 1945): drama (M., 1982), Sad Jester: a novel (M., 1983), Plays (M., 1983), Once upon a time Kuzma: stories (Minsk, 1984), Polycarp the First: a play (M., 1984), Otlass: a novel (Sverdlovsk, 1985), Architect: a novel (Tyumen, 1994), God in the Bosom: a novel (Tyumen, 1995), God in the Bosom. The third fall. Golgotha: Novels (Ekaterinburg, 2001), Poetic Studies () (Ekaterinburg, 2001).

Nowadays it is customary to add to the first and last name: a famous writer, laureate, prose writer, playwright, etc. This is inconvenient and one does not want to do this, and Zot Kornilovich himself would not approve of this. But alas, not all Tyumen residents can say who Tobolkin is.

But there was a time when local schools were introduced to his books as extracurricular reading sessions. In libraries, Tobolkin's works, published by the Central Ural Book Publishing House, stood prominently on special shelves. The story “Once upon a time there was Kuzma” was reprinted more than once in huge editions, which did not sit in bookstores. Based on this wonderful story, the film “Late Berry” was staged in Moscow.

Tobolkin's plays (his first dramaturgical brainchild - "Geologists", then "I Believe", "Polycarp the First", "Brothers", "About Tatyana", "The Tale of Anna" and others) were once staged by theaters throughout the country, including including in Moscow.

Tobolkin loved the theater. He studied not only at the Faculty of Journalism of the Ural State University, but also at the Moscow Higher Directing Courses (graduated in 1975). In 1977, the Central Ural Book Publishing House published a collection of Tobolkin’s plays entitled “The Most Important People.”

At the beginning of his creative career, Zot Kornilovich wrote a lot for regional newspapers, radio, and TV. He made his debut as a prose writer in the capital in 1972 (his first stories appeared in the magazines Sovremennik and Peasant Woman). At that time the author was already 37 years old. According to many writers, thirty-something is the most suitable age for a prose writer to “ripe.” Until then, man accumulates invaluable human experience in his storehouse of knowledge, in order to later pass it on to people through books.

His novels “The Architect”, “The Sad Jester” and “Otlass” come from the Tobolsk province. “Immense,” as Zot Kornilovich himself called it. And “...no matter what I write about,” Tobolkin himself said, “be it the story “Golgotha” or the novel “In God’s Bosom,” I always write about my native land, forever glorious!”

Zot Tobolkin worked at a desk (at a typewriter) even in old age. The novel “Calvary” was published in 2001, when the writer was already 66 years old. The life of a writer, like himself said, “filled with things to do”:

In general, my life is filled with things to do. Things, although with difficulty at times, are going well.

They, of course, are not a measure of material success; I am still one of those who lives on a tiny pension. It’s not difficult to get rich, you need to set such a goal. My main goal (and without falsehood!), the great goal is business. I don't compare with the "stars". My stars are in the sky. The word “career” as the achievement of profit, universal fame, is alien to me in meaning and spirit. I am a plowman. I prefer a field, a little room with a piece of paper. Here I reign, not thinking about the ruble or fame. And what will I mean in this difficult world, let society judge, the experts who have answers to everything in life. I'm looking for these answers. Sometimes it works out, which is expressed in novels, books, poems. There is always something wrong in society. I weigh life according to my deeds. I try to understand young people when they have leisure. It's not enough. It’s unlikely that anyone will want to replace me: it’s troublesome and dreary. That's why I don't flicker or purr. There is no time to judge a generation. And putting on my collar is not an easy task. It is not for every neck. That's why I never said: “Do as I do!”

A writer needs such qualities as inspiration, perseverance, a spark of God, that is, talent. Without this, success will not come. Lately the attitude towards the profession has been skeptical.

Because all those who have money and paper became “writers”. But there are only a few genuine writers. I dare to hope that, judging by the results, I am one of them.

I remember how in 2005 Zot Kornilovich, who at that time walked with a cane, arrived, along with other Tyumen writers, at the House of Writers for general cleaning: washing, knocking dust out of old chairs and armchairs, on which more than one generation of Tyumen poets and prose writers, dragging and stacking books tied with ropes on cabinets, in general, preparing the house for renovation. Even from this difficult and boring task, he, a lame old man, did not shirk.

Zot Tobolkin rushes to the rescue

Creative conversation

Nowadays, for books of this or that author, we rush to Internet libraries. Alas, there are no electronic publications of Zot Kornilovich Tobolkin on the Internet. They are not even in the huge collection of “Google Books”: links, for example, to the novels “The Sad Jester”, “In God’s Bosom” and a collection of stories under the general title “Once Upon a Time Kuzma” are present, but Google informs about the texts : “No electronic version.”

Let's hope there will be enthusiasts and the electronic gap will be filled. The Russian land must remember its masters of words.

According to "Vsluh.ru", farewell to Zot Kornilovich will take place on May 26 at the House of Funeral Services on the street. Odesskaya, 32, from 9.30 to 11 o’clock.

Tobolkin Zot Kornilovich

Tobolkin Zot Kornilovich(January 3, 1935, village of Khorzovo, Zavodoukovsky district, Tyumen region - May 24, 2014, Tyumen) - prose writer, playwright.

Born into a large family of a collective farmer. His childhood, like that of the entire generation, stretched through the tragic time of the war, which took away his older brothers. He managed to complete only four classes of day school: at the age of eleven he began working and tried many professions - trailer driver, tractor driver, electrician, mechanic, stonecutter, fireman, assembler, surveyor.

In 1950 he entered a vocational school in Krasnodar and at the same time studied at evening school. From 1952 to 1954 he worked as a mechanic at the Sedin plant. Served in the ranks of the Soviet Army. In 1959, he passed the entrance exams to the Ural State University named after M. Gorky, to the Faculty of Journalism. He combined his studies with work as a mechanic and fireman. Since 1964, after graduating from university, he worked in newspapers, radio and television in Tyumen and Nizhnevartovsk. In 1975 he graduated from the Higher Directing Courses in Moscow.

In 1972, the first stories were published in the magazines Sovremennik and Krestyanka. The Tobolsk Drama Theater staged Tobolkin's drama "Geologists". Later, his dramas were staged in the Tyumen, Ulyanovsk, Gorky, Tobolsk, and Armavir theaters. In 1977, the Central Ural Book Publishing House published a collection of plays, “The Most Important People.” Several plays receive awards at All-Union competitions, the plays “Brothers” and “About Tatyana” are staged in Moscow theaters.

About the difficulties of collective farm construction, about the formation of that great force that defeated fascism - his novel “Fall to the Ground.” The novel “Lebyazhy” is dedicated to the discovery and development of the oil and gas province of the Tyumen region. The novel “The Sad Jester” covers the end of the Peter the Great era; it is a novel about the first settlers and explorers of Siberia, about the formation of the Russian state. Stories, essays, novels, and novels are published in many magazines and publishing houses throughout the country.

Laureate of the All-Russian D. N. Mamin-Sibiryak Prize.

Awarded the M. Sholokhov medal (2012).

Member of the USSR Writers' Union since 1975.

Books

Favorites. In 2 volumes - Tyumen: Tyumen. published house, 2008-2009.

And next to you - and all my loads are light

Oral literary and local history magazine
“Hymn to peasant labor in the works of our fellow countryman Zot Tobolkin”

Goals:
Educational: introduce schoolchildren to the biography and works of the writer - fellow countryman Z.K. Tobolkin about peasant life, based on local history material;
Educational: to cultivate a feeling of love for one’s native land, respect for the work of a peasant worker;

Developmental: to increase the interest of the younger generation in rural life, agriculture and the profession of grain grower.

Tasks:
— develop reading competence;
- develop the ability to master the techniques of monologue and dialogic speech;
— master the algorithm for compiling a thematic collection (oral literary and local history magazine).

Expected results:
Subject. Emotionally and adequately perceive passages from works of art by ear; take part in the performance; read prose texts aloud based on the transfer of their artistic features; read a poem by heart expressively.
Personal. The ability to evaluate people’s actions and life situations from the point of view of accepted norms and values; verbally share your personal impressions and judgments.

Metasubject. In the field of cognitive general educational activities, schoolchildren will have the opportunity to work with texts: highlight the main theme and main idea, different life positions, highlight information specified by the aspect of consideration and retain the stated aspect, work with several sources of information.

In the field of communicative educational activities: work in small and large groups; distribute work among themselves and arrange it into a common field; understand the main differences between two points of view and be motivated to join one of them or try to express your own; find confirmation in the text of the points of view expressed.

In the field of regulatory educational activities: carry out self-monitoring and monitoring of the progress of work and the results obtained.

Forms of work: collective, individual, group.

Advanced tasks: in the library, get acquainted with the works of Zot Tobolkin, read the stories “The Lay of the Plowman”, “The Well”, poetry; learn about the village of Khorzovo; tell about the history of the development of the Sibiryak collective farm.

Individual tasks for schoolchildren: prepare a report on the biography of Zot Kornilovich Tobolkin; prepare an expressive reading of excerpts from the novel “Fall Down to the Ground” (use a dictionary of outdated words); prepare an expressive recitation by heart of a poem by our fellow countryman.

Group assignment: prepare a dramatization (four schoolchildren).

Decor: exhibition of books, photographs, presentation.

Epigraph:
The earth is calling! ...
And what is it about her that attracts you? ... We work on her without straightening our backs, and she, mother, is never spoken ill of...
Because she is a mother. Here's your answer...
Zot Tobolkin

Page 1. “I come from a Siberian village.”

Schoolboy: Zot Kornilovich Tobolkin is a Siberian writer, our fellow countryman. Born in the Old Believer village of Khorzovo in 1935. Now this place is not on the map, since in the 80s, under the program of strengthening and liquidation of unpromising villages, Khorzovo was resettled to the village of Pershino.

The writer's father, Kornil Ivanovich, was a blacksmith, joiner, and carpenter. From the formation of the Hammer and Sickle collective farm in 1930 to 1935, he was its first chairman.

Based on a slanderous denunciation, he was arrested and exiled to Kolyma for five years.

The mother, Alexandra Gordeevna, although she was an illiterate woman, was left alone with seven children, and with the help of kind people she appealed to the authorities with a cassation appeal. Perhaps this worked, and Zot Tobolkin’s father, after serving three years in exile, was released. And until the end of his life he worked as a blacksmith on a collective farm.

The elder brother Procopius went straight from the tractor to the front. And he bequeathed his accordion to his younger brother Zot. On an idle evening, the village girls and women, having gathered together, roared about their fate, grieved for those for whom they received funerals, sang songs that consoled grief. Zot, a nine-year-old boy, was asked to play along, and in the morning they went to milking, mowing, or to the field. The boy often fell asleep with the accordion and did not trust it to anyone.

At school, Zot was a “difficult student,” but he loved books. I dragged the entire school library home and re-read it.

As a child I had to work with my mother. I carried potatoes and other food to the market 20 miles away in Zavodoukovsk. There you could buy a loaf of government bread.

As a teenager, he worked on a trailer for tractor driver Ermolai Tarasov. A tractor driver once saved Zot from certain death. The boy dozed off and almost ended up under the harrows. Ermolai looked back in time.

At the age of 14, I transported grain from combines to an elevator. One bag was missing. And this was a considerable period of time in those hungry years, and he was also the son of an “enemy of the people.”

I had to leave my native village for Krasnodar, to live with my sister.

There he entered a vocational school and received the profession of a mechanic. Afterwards he worked at a factory and studied at evening school (graduated with a gold medal). Then he served in the army and studied at the Ural State University to become a journalist.

Since 1964 he worked in newspapers, radio, and television. Zot Kornilovich Tobolkin is the author of many stories, novellas and novels: “Come Down to the Ground”, “The Lay of the Plowman”, “Swan”, “Once Upon a Time There Was Kuzma”, “The Sad Jester”, “Otlasy” and many others.

Zot Kornilovich is a laureate of the Lenin Komsomol Prize, the Governor's Prize, the I. Ermakov Prize, the K. Lagunov Prize, was awarded the Order of the Badge of Honor, and is an honored cultural worker.

In November 2004, our fellow countryman visited his native place. Local residents warmly welcomed Zot Kornilovich at the village House of Culture. His note is kept in the guest book of the local history museum: “Glad and happy to meet you, dear ones! I wish you happiness and joy, which increases every year.”

Our villagers were always looking forward to new meetings and new books by Zot Tobolkin.

Page 2. The originality of the novel “Fall to the Ground.”
Librarian: The novel “Come Down to the Ground” was written about our fellow countrymen, about your great-grandfathers and great-grandmothers who lived in the village of Khorzovo. Many of the events described in the work are reliable, as are the names of the characters. The author uses local names of geographical objects: Pustynnoye, Zemlyanoye, Odina, although the village is called Zayarye, not Khorzovo.

“Come Down to the Ground” is a work about a Siberian village during the collectivization period. Most of the peasants joined the Hammer and Sickle collective farm, but there were also men who did not dare to say goodbye to their personal farm. The work describes one year in the life of collective farmers, 1934.

Old-timers of the village of Khorzovo say: “This was the most difficult year when the majority of peasants entered the collective farm. In the spring there was a fire and the barn burned down. In the fall, hail chopped and crushed the stems, crumbled and shook off the ears, leaving nothing to reap. Everyone, young and old, collected ears of rye in baskets.” These reliable facts are described by the author in the work.

But the rural workers endured all the trials, because they are “Siberian made, strong, vigorous.” And they also know the secret of their strong standing on their land.

Maybe we can figure it out too?

Page 3. “Where is the limit of strength?”

Librarian: The life of the heroes of Zot Tobolkin's works about the village passes in constant work. The author does not skimp on scenes showing the characters at work. The writer himself is familiar with peasant labor, which is why the scenes of haymaking, harvesting, threshing, and collecting firewood are clearly depicted.

An expressive reading of a scene of a schoolboy preparing firewood.

... They were approaching the plots. The axes clattered louder and the saws squealed louder. From the edge, near the field, Thekla and Raven were pulling the saw with weak hands. The birch gave way slowly.

The screeching of saws, the clatter of axes, and the noise of falling trees could be heard from everywhere. As they fell, they touched the ground with branches. The loppers immediately cleared them and dragged them into the fires. The birches lay naked, mournfully beautiful even in their nakedness. Their clothes were smoking in the fire.

So another birch tree with an ominous screech was bitten by steel teeth and passed over its body. Leaving a ragged trail.

Sawdust fell thicker and thicker, soaked in sweet tears - birch trees. There were fewer and fewer cut veins.

The last one broke. After standing for a moment, the birch tree collapsed, emitting a desperate groan.

And Venka Burdakov was already taking aim at the branches with an ax, cutting off the wings and branches.

And Agneya and Alexandra were already sawing it into pieces. And Eutropius was splitting short, brown-rimmed logs. Feshka dragged them to the woodpile.

If the woodpile stands there and withers in the wind, they will bring it in the fall and stack it near the tine. The hostess will bring the firewood and throw the logs into the stove. They crackle cheerfully, affectionately. Even a dead birch tree is generous and cheerful.

Librarian questions:
At what time of year does firewood collection take place in the village? - In the spring.
How did you guess? “Sweet tears” appeared on the birch trees - this is birch sap.
Why at this time of year? “There are no leaves on the trees yet, the trees have not yet fully come to life from their winter sleep.” The firewood must dry out so that it generates more heat in winter.
Why do you think the villagers could do such hard work? – Everyone had their own stages of work, they worked together.

Expressive reading of a haymaking scene by a schoolchild:

In the morning, Eutropius raised the mowers before dawn. Without ceremony, he pulled young people out of booths by their feet and doused them with water from a barrel.

We went out in the dew. According to an unwritten tradition, I started the first swath myself. He mowed cleanly, blade to blade of grass. Not a single mustache under an even row.

Zhzhzhaazh - ahhh,” the scythe brought out, cutting off the grass right to the roots. The sock dived undulatingly and smoothly. The heel powerfully threw the cochinine into the windrow.

Zhzhaahh – ahhh.

- I'll burn your heels! – Pankratov, who was running second, shouted excitedly.

Five minutes later, Pankratov begins to lag behind and, getting excited, mows dirty. Behind him is Fedyanya, who doesn’t know what fatigue is, rumpled breathing, as if he was born without lungs. The tousled mane of the valka rises up to the knee.

- Go to the women! — he mockingly advises Pankratov. - This is just within your capabilities.
Pankratov gets angry and attacks the Lithuanian with greater fury.

But work doesn't like anger. The grass does not obey, it escapes from under the sting. Pankratov scolds, increasingly corrects the Lithuanian, taking out a whetstone from behind his boot.

Meanwhile, Eutropius finishes the swath, slowly moving back in his wake, so as not to crush the grass from the other mowers. He stops near Pankratov: he lifts his mustache.
“Maybe you’ll still let me go ahead?” – Fedyanya asks with devastating politeness.

Pankratov, unable to say anything out of shame, nods.

Librarian questions:
Do you understand the meanings of all the words? – “Litovka” is a scythe, “oselok” is a device for sharpening a scythe, “heel” is the widest part of the braid, “toe” is the narrow part of the braid.
In the process of mowing, the peasants showed dexterity, what does it consist of? “They mowed one after another, the young and hardy mowers walked in front, then the older ones, the old people walked at the end, as they quickly got tired. And they stood up so as not to “burn their heels.”
How do you understand the writer’s words “work does not like anger”? – If you start to fuss, swear, get angry, get nervous, then your work doesn’t go well, you make a lot of mistakes, nothing works out. Hard and responsible work requires a good attitude, concentration, and strength to complete it efficiently.

Conversation with schoolchildren.

One of Zot Tobolkin's heroes says:
- And how a person never gets tired! I didn’t straighten up from sowing. Now it’s time for the woodcutter, then haymaking, cleaning - so on and on. Where is the limit?

Another responds:
- A person always needs more than he has. That's why there are no limits.
— Do you agree with the answer? If not, how would you answer this question?
— A person takes strength from the land on which he works. The earth feels who loves it, cultivates it, it pays him kindly and gives him strength. In gratitude he pays with earthly riches.

Page 4. “The noble labor of the peasant - grain grower”

Librarian: The most important purpose of peasant labor is to grow crops. Nature often tests the strength of Siberian rural workers. But working on the land, they learned to withstand the elements. The owner's attitude and dedication to the chosen business help to preserve the harvest.

Reading by heart a poem by Zot Tobolkin.

Snowdrifts of white lilies.
Who cleverly grouped you together like that?
With the winter wind - both of us -
Inept people.
Sweeping is easy:
We have been able to do this since childhood.
I'll use my staff
He is his own dry winds.
Or it will cause a storm.
Or Santa Claus.
They get drunk and play the tambourine,
Like summer thunderstorms.
Thunderstorms are not a bad thing at all.
Only hail is merciless.
It will knock out all the curls of the seedlings.
May he be thrice wrong.
Rain! No need to skimp!
Water more generously.
Let the earthlings drink!
Let the wheat grow stronger!
And we can remove it.
Oh, how the little pole breathes!
The stems reach towards the sky.
You are my red spikelet!
I would like this redhead!
Don't grow up shy!
I will take care of you.
The skies are turning blue,
They take care of you themselves.

Librarian questions:
What seasons does the author of the poem describe? - Winter, spring, summer, autumn.
What expressions, descriptions allowed you to draw such a conclusion? – Winter: snowdrifts of white lilies, winter wind, dry winds, storm, staff, Santa Claus. Spring: definitely summer thunderstorms, hail. Summer: rain, thunderstorm. Autumn: red spikelet, ripe.
Why does the author wish for thunderstorms, rain, but not hail? - The rain will water the earth, the wheat will get stronger, there will be a good harvest. Hail can destroy seedlings.
How do the words sound in the poem: “Let the earth drink! Let the wheat grow stronger! And we can remove it." “They sound hope, faith in the benevolence of nature. And also an oath that the harvest will be harvested.

Page 5. “Man is a hard worker and master of life”

Librarian: For a long time, children in peasant families were raised by work and personal example, sacredly preserving the covenants and traditions of past generations. The father always passed on his work skills and dexterity to his son, and the son to his son. Living and working in one’s native land is happiness for a villager. And the peasants drew strength of spirit, openness of heart, and a lot of patience from the earth - mother.

Dramatization of an excerpt from the novel “Come to the Ground.”

Frowning from under his dense eyebrows, Proud watched sideways as the children devoured government bread, washing it down with milk. The older one bit hard, like a peasant; the youngest, like a mouse, plucked off pieces.

They looked alike, only the brother had a longer face; my sister’s is round and covered in freckles.

“Dad, they’re sending Pronya to drive a tractor,” Feshka blurted out, seething with ineradicable childish joy.

- Chatterbox! – the brother frowned. – If they don’t ask, don’t dance!

— Did you stop liking the blacksmith? – Gordey looked sternly at his son.

“Naumenko called for the evening... Come on,” he says, “learn to drive a tractor.” We should probably get it in the spring.

- I thought you were going to replace me as a blacksmith...

- As you say, I will do so.

“Whatever your heart is in, choose.” I’ve been noticing for a long time that you turn your nose up at the hammer. I chose it, therefore.

- Yes, what are you talking about, uncle! - the guy blushed, - I’ll refuse today!

- They send - go. It's worthwhile. I don't mind. But no self-indulgence for me! The car is expensive. She needs to be led wisely.

“It’s not for you to rule a gelding,” Feshka raised her finger edifyingly, but couldn’t resist and burst out laughing.

Gordey smiled:

- And you, little laughter girl, did you go to class?

“No,” said the girl, “my pins have holes in them.”

- I'll fix it. This winter we will have to wear the old ones. But we’ll make you a boyar’s fur coat. I caught a couple of wolves.

- Well - oh! – Feshka rolled her eyes and jumped out into the fence.

- What a naughty girl! It's going to catch a cold! - and, as if to return his sister, Procopius followed her out.

- Where did you catch them, daddy? - Prokop said, leading his sister by the thick straw braid.

- At the Wolf Gully, Gordey threw the dredge.

- We'll refresh it in the evening. The fur coat will be good.

- How do you like them, huh?

- So. You could clean a cow in a flock. Saved up here without me, master!

Guys, have you watched the dramatization, please answer the questions:
Who was considered the head of the Gordey Yamin family? - Gordey, father of the family.
How did you determine this? “The eldest son obeys his father, and the daughter will not contradict him either.”
Why didn't the father insist that his son work at a blacksmith? “The father approved of his son’s choice, since the profession of a tractor driver was previously the most revered in the village. There were few tractors.
How were labor responsibilities distributed in a peasant family? “The elders helped with the housework, looked after the livestock, and the younger ones had to study and perform simple chores around the house.

Page 6. “Thank you for...”

Librarian: The works of Zot Tobolkin do not lose their relevance even now. He writes on eternal topics: about work, about the Siberian people, about love for his land and village. Through his heroes and their destinies, the author touches the reader's soul. I think that our conversation today did not leave you indifferent.