About Russian literature of the 20th century. Women's destinies in Russian literature of the 20th century based on the novel by Mikhail Sholokhov Quiet Don

Many cruel reproaches await you,
Working days, lonely evenings:
Will you rock a sick child?
To wait for the violent husband to come home,
Cry, work - and think sadly,
What did your young life promise you?
What she gave, what she will give in the future...
Poor thing! Better not look ahead!
N. A. Nekrasov. "Wedding"
The 20th century is full of turbulent historical events, which is reflected in the literature.
Through numerous works of Russian writers there is a contrast between the fatal chaos of history and the eternal beautiful love. The heroes of M. Bulgakov and M. Gorky seek oblivion in love, salvation from difficult questions. For example, the novel “Sisters” from A. Tolstoy’s trilogy “Walking through Torment” ends with a hymn of love and eternal femininity:
“Years will pass, wars will subside, revolutions will cease, and only one thing will remain imperishable - your meek, gentle, beloved heart...”
These words are spoken by Roshchin Kate. The main characters of this work, Katya and Dasha Bulavin, are the most beautiful heroines with difficult destinies. To me, the images of Aksinya, Natalya and Daria from the novel by M. Sholokhov seem more lifelike. Quiet Don”.
Aksinya was attractive; her beauty was not spoiled even by the wrinkles that appeared from a difficult life. Another heroine, Daria, delights readers with her femininity and energy. Natalya, purely outwardly, can be compared to a gray duck. The author himself often emphasizes in Aksi-nye - “greedy lips”, in Natalya - “ big hands”, in Daria - “thin rims of eyebrows”.
I think that M. Sholokhov does this deliberately, Lips - beauty, passion. Hands - patience, trying to achieve everything with your own work. And eyebrows mean frivolity, an inability to feel deeply.
The heroines of M. Sholokhov are very different, but they are united by the completeness of their perception of life.
I got the impression that in those years the fate of women, as indeed in our time, was not easy. If a husband beat his wife, then this was considered in the order of things: before, the father taught wisdom, and now, therefore, the husband. Here are the consequences of such an attitude of Pantelei Prokofievich towards his wife:
“...in anger he reached the point of unconsciousness and, apparently, this prematurely aged his, once beautiful, but now completely entangled in a web of wrinkles, portly wife.”
But this has always been the case in almost every family. And people perceived this as inevitable and given from above. There was a house, there was a family, there was work on the land, there were children to take care of. And no matter how difficult her lot was, she firmly knew her purpose. And this helped her survive.
And something terrible happened - the war began. And not just a war, but a fratricidal war. When yesterday's neighbors became enemies, when the father did not understand his son, and the brother killed
brother...
It was difficult for even the smart Gregory to understand what was happening. What should a woman do? How should she live?.. Husbands leave, but their wives remain.
The destinies of Aksinya and Natalya are intertwined and dependent on one another. It turns out that if one is happy, then the other is unhappy. M. Sholokhov depicted as if love triangle, which has existed at all times. Natalya loved her husband with all her soul: “...she lived, cultivating an unconscious hope for her husband’s return, leaning on her with a broken spirit. She didn’t write anything to Gregory, but there was no one in the family who would expect a letter from him with such melancholy and pain.”
This tender and fragile woman took upon herself the full measure of suffering given by life. She wanted to do everything to save the family. And only after feeling the futility of this, he decides to commit suicide. Perhaps it was selfishness caused by jealousy that prompted her to do this. Be that as it may, Natalya has changed. Was there such a revolution in Aksinya’s life? It seems to me that he was. Perhaps it came after Tanya's death. Having lost her daughter, she “knew nothing,” didn’t think about anything... Terrible. The mother is alive, and her children are in the ground. There are no continuers of your life, it seems to have been interrupted... And at this difficult moment of her life, Aksinya found herself completely alone. And there was no one to help her... No one? But there was one “compassionate”, closeness with whom led to Aksinya’s break with Gregory. Fate was more merciful to Natalya in this regard. This heroine, to my admiration, had truly maternal feelings, which united her with Ilyinichna, but somewhat alienated her from Daria, only child which he died.
It was said briefly about what happened to Daria’s child: “...and Daria’s child died...”
That's all. No unnecessary feelings, emotions... With this M. Sholokhov once again emphasizes that Daria lived only for herself.
Even the death of her husband saddened her for a short time; she quickly recovered. Obviously, Daria did not have deep feelings for Peter, she just got used to him.
I feel sorry for her. Daria is alien to the Melekhov family. She paid dearly for her frivolity. Poor thing! Afraid of waiting for the inevitable, lost from loneliness, Daria decided to commit suicide. And before merging with the waters of the Don, she shouted not to anyone, but to women, since only they could understand her: “Goodbye, little women!”
Not long before this, Natalya also passed away. After their death, Aksinya became close to Gregory's mother. And this is natural. It is a pity that the feelings that united these two women arose so late, literally one step before the death that awaited each of them. If this had happened earlier, perhaps they would have influenced Gregory, they would have been able to do together what each of them could not do separately.
Aksinya and Natalya died, thereby punishing the top of the triangle, leaving Gregory at a crossroads.
Perhaps M. Sholokhov spoke with bitterness about the fate of women. But try to portray it better - it won’t work! Reality is only real if it is true, otherwise it is not reality, but only a parody of it.

The fates of Russian writers of the 20th century are dramatic, since it was then that literature in our country for the first time became a truly influential force that could be directed one way or another, depending on the political situation. And this circumstance, to one degree or another, affected the life and creative path of each of the Russian writers, including the most venerable and, it would seem, favored by the authorities, such as Maxim Gorky, Vladimir Mayakovsky, Mikhail Sholokhov. Russian writers of the 20th century inevitably faced the problem of moral choice in a situation where they had to either sacrifice honor or remain “overboard.”

The era in which they worked was marked by complex and controversial events. The country experienced three revolutions, one civil and two world wars, national tragedies of an unprecedented scale - collectivization and the “Red Terror”. Some of the writers found themselves, willingly or unwillingly, drawn into the whirlpool of these events. Others stood back and avoided participating in the social struggle. But both of them are children of their time, who, together with their homeland, experienced a painful spiritual drama. In these unthinkable conditions, writers were called upon to fulfill their main mission - to raise before the reader “eternal” questions about life and death, about human destiny, about what truth and justice are, memory and duty.

Thus, the work of the best Russian writers of the 20th century is a painful pain for the fate of the Fatherland and native culture, natural development which was forcibly interrupted and distorted.

Culture, which was in mortal danger in the fury of the new nihilism, in the devilry of the Berliozs, Shvonders and Sharikovs who had broken through to power, was the great value of Mikhail Bulgakov’s bottom. He acutely felt the tragedy of spiritual unconsciousness, a smug desire to improve human nature according to your own understanding and whim.

Spirituality, puzzlement about the meaning of life, the “damned questions” of existence - these are character traits created by him positive characters, among which the first, of course, should be called the master, the hero of Bulgakov’s immortal novel. His fate reflects the bitter fate of Bulgakov himself, worthy of the highest respect.

The homeless, homeless heroes of the novel “The Master and Margarita” become objects of persecution, denunciations, arrests, and betrayal. Their fate is typical and, unfortunately, natural in the society described. They live at odds with the world around them, contrary to it, according to their own internal logic. The master and Bulgakov know their business, see the meaning and purpose of their work, and recognize themselves as executors of a special social mission. And therefore there is no place for them in the country of “victorious socialism” - neither as writers, nor as thinkers, nor as individuals.

Mikhail Bulgakov shared the fate of many Russian writers who died unknown, but by the end of the century they became famous and read, and received a rebirth with the publication of their works. Andrei Platonov, Mikhail Bulgakov, Osip Mandelstam... They are interesting primarily not because they belong to the guild of writers - they are, first of all, spiritually free, internally independent individuals. What helped them create was the belief that “manuscripts don’t burn.” These writers created their works in accordance only with their own conscience and universal human ideas about morality.

They created without “treading on the throat” own song“, and therefore their fates evoke endless respect in us.

Seminar at the writer's IDK and literary critic Igor Petrovich Zolotussky

After the 19th century, which had not yet completely ended at the beginning of the 20th century (Chekhov and Tolstoy were still alive, new major writers appeared, such as Bunin, Kuprin, Shmelev), everyone was waiting for some kind of not just renewal, but a new rise in Russian literature. It must be said that Russian literature was already influencing the literature of the whole world, and evidence of this is, of course, the rise that occurred in the literature of the United States of America at the beginning of the 20th century. This rise, the appearance of such names as Thomas Wolfe, Ernst Hemingway, Faulkner and others, is entirely explained by the influence of Russian literature. It was an unexpected influence of great Russian literature, picked up across the ocean.

The 20th century gave us, let's say, wavy development of literature. This wave-like movement is a generic feature of twentieth-century literature. Already under Chekhov and Tolstoy, the so-called “Silver Age” appeared on the stage, which now rises very high in our country and is sometimes placed even higher than the “Golden Age”, that is, the 19th century of Russian literature. Indeed, the beginning of the 20th century and the “Silver Age”, in particular, produced brilliant talents: Bely, Balmont, Akhmatova, Gumilyov. Finally, Blok, who, of course, separates himself from them all and continues the traditions of great Russian literature. Despite this, it was an age of decline and decay. Over the previous century, Russian literature has accumulated enormous ethical material. This ethical material was essentially reduced to one highest mark, the mark of the Christian ideal. Russian literature seemed to be heading upward. At the same time, she left behind a purely aesthetic legacy, that is, she developed genres, enriched the language, and advanced the entire diversity of forms of literature. The “Silver Age” took advantage, not without brilliance, of the achievements of Russian literature in the field of form, but neglected the ethical material that it had accumulated, neglected its ideal. I mean both poetry and prose. Sounds, colors, rhymes, play with words and - a complete lack of interest in the main interest of her predecessor. The content sinks down, goes to the bottom, and at the top there remain sounds that are not devoid of beauty, but this is the beauty of decay, the beauty, if not of agony, then, in any case, of the close presence of death. This also happens in life, and this happened in Russian literature.

There is also a departure from another important feature of Russian literature. When I spoke about the ideal of Russian literature, about its Christian aspiration, I meant that Russian literature, created by the best flower of the nobility, experienced feelings of sin and guilt before the people. Almost all Russian literature was based on these feelings. She blamed herself before the people, she tried to justify her sins before them - the sins not of literature itself, but of the nobility - she enlightened, treated, defended, regretted, tried to help save the reader’s soul. In this case, she was addressing a wider number of readers, especially if we keep in mind late XIX century, that is, Russian classic literature moved with all its weight towards the idea influence on the people. At the beginning of the 20th century, this trait completely disappears, and we get talented examples realistic prose, but the prose is quite cold (this can be seen in the works of the young Bunin or, say, Leonid Andreev) and literature of the 19th century indifferent to this pain.

The only exception in this sense for the period of the first twenty years of the 20th century is Blok. Wading through the temptations and temptations of form and refusal of content, from God, finally, Blok at the end of his life still comes to the conclusion that without this idea, without this sympathy, love, tenderness, care, without treasures people are indispensable. This, of course, is the exit of the heir of the 19th century in reality high level. I repeat, Blok managed to avoid being completely entangled in the networks of decadence at the beginning of his poetic life. Continuing Dostoevsky’s provocations in this sense, he blasphemed, mocked, sinned against this idea, but later he nevertheless came not just to realism, but to Divine word, to the fact that the word should be oriented towards the Divine. Dostoevsky, let me draw your attention to this again, left behind not only the dream that Orthodoxy and Christianity would take over not only Russia, but also the world, but also a powerful provocative system for testing the Christian idea, including nihilism and denial.

Recently, a forum of intellectuals was held in Ulyanovsk. It discussed the question of how to modernize Russian culture. The people who made the project read and discussed there are people far from Russian culture, such as Arkhangelsky, Lungin and the like. The point, however, is not actually in these people, but in the ideas that they put forward as saving ones. This is the idea of ​​abandoning tradition, because it supposedly leads to conservation, and this is the idea of ​​abandoning eternal values. A Eternal values- these are, of course, the values ​​of the Gospel! They see the way out in adapting or even simply copying the educational systems and cultural transformations in the West - in Europe and the United States, where these transformations are completely unrelated national tradition and have no national connotations at all.

Russian literature of the 20th century did not at all follow this path. I talked about wave-like movement. After the “Silver Age”, after that freedom, which was, first of all, understood as freedom of form, because the feeling of sin and guilt before the people left literature, violent service to the age appears. I mean literature Soviet period. Among its authors were many talented people, but with the iron hand of ideology they were turned in the direction that was opposite to the path of great Russian literature. If the concern of Russian literature of the 19th century was the protection of the people, compassion, regret and condolences for them, as, for example, Gogol did in “The Overcoat” or Grigorovich in “Anton the Miserable,” then with violent service to the century, something else is encouraged. Literature is given two tasks (or, if you like, it sets them for itself). First, to erase the influence of the “Silver Age” not only in terms of apolitism, blasphemy and the like, which, by the way, made sense, but also in terms of the deification of form and art as art. Blok also dreamed that a person ordinary person, transformed into a human artist. I'd say Silver Age achieved that. The creators of the “Silver Age” were, first of all, artists; they performed their roles masterfully. So, this skill, unnecessary for a new reader, had to be erased - once. It was necessary to end compassion for the majority of the Russian people, for the peasantry - two.

For this, Alexei Maksimovich Gorky worked a lot, who hated the peasantry and considered it a nest where small owners are born, the organizer of the small-proprietary element that prevents collectivism, the unification of people under higher slogans. It turns out that this man, who entered the era of violent service to the century, hated the majority of the Russian people. This is both in his statements and in his literary works. “Why are such people born that no one needs in the world?” - he seems to be asking. They are biologically unnecessary and must be destroyed.

Thus, instead of preserving and preserving the people, their traditions, their language, literature was given the task - it is clear that it was not directly set, as orders were written for the Red Army - the destruction of the old people, I emphasize old, one that was no longer needed. The best proof of this is two novels by Andrei Platonov: “The Pit” and “Chevengur”, where the revolution sets itself the task of the most brutal destruction possible “ old people" in order to create " new people".

Of course, political pressure, the pressure of this wave-like development, which, of course, was subject to the era and certain political ideas, could not completely emasculate literature. A novel appears, say, like the novel “Quiet Flows the Don,” where there is no idea of ​​exterminating the people and, on the contrary, the old Russian idea of ​​​​saving the people, saving them, flares up - I mean the ending of the novel. This is, of course, a fundamental book for the 20th century. The first volume of "Quiet Don" appeared already at the end of the 1920s, and the last - in the early 1940s. This novel defines a new wave, a transition through this bitterness, through the task of breaking with the traditions of Russian literature of the 19th century and reaching out to man as the only thing that can be treasured on earth. Of course, in this novel there are concessions to that violent idea, because it depicts the Civil War, during which those people who interfere with the implementation of the idea of ​​​​creating a new society and new people are dealt with quite mercilessly. But the pain is felt everywhere there.

This very large piece of Russian literature appears at the turning point of attempts not just by RAPP, but by the authorities in general not only to subjugate literature, but also to remake and rearrange its goals. Many talents at that time come under pressure from both direct and indirect violence. Platonov is not published at all. And yet, during this bitterness, this wave-like movement towards not sympathy for the people, but condemnation of the people that was created in the past, in particular, by the pens of great Russian literature, a transformation occurs.

At this time Bulgakov appears. He, like Blok, who ends up remaining with the ideas that Gogol, Tolstoy, Tyutchev and others lived by, also still has one foot on the shores of great Russian literature. Nevertheless, Bulgakov experiences the terrible art of satire, which was also suggested to him by the violence of the century. He's writing " Fatal eggs», « dog's heart", "Diaboliad" - terrible things, where everything that was happening in Russia at that moment is depicted in a grotesque-satirical spirit. I must note that in the story “Heart of a Dog” we feel Bulgakov’s hostility towards the Russian people. Yes, Bulgakov is the singer of the intelligentsia, but the intelligentsia also belonged to the Russian people, and its best people, as in the White Guard, also belonged to it! Satire, however, terribly corrupts and tempts a person. Remember, back in The White Guard, Lieutenant Myshlaevsky, when he returns from the front, says: “... I think these are local peasants - Dostoevsky’s God-bearers!.. uh... your mother!” It turns out that there, in fact, there is only one character from the people, this is Annushka, the servant, the same Annushka who later appears in “The Master and Margarita” and spills sunflower oil. So, under the influence of satire, Bulgakov is going through a period when he portrays Russian people in a generally derogatory manner. In the story “Heart of a Dog” we, of course, already see humiliation and arrogance towards the people, who, as the author tells us, are only worthy of being a dog, and Professor Preobrazhensky is intelligence, is genius, is, so to speak, light. This is wrong.

I would say that Bulgakov is the greatest fiction writer, but a shallow Russian writer. In The Master and Margarita, this influence of satire, this bitterness and this desire for revenge takes precedence over everything. Moreover, the desire for revenge is blasphemously mixed with Divine desire, because, in essence, no matter how veiled the characters of the Gospel in the novel “The Master and Margarita”, we cannot help but admit that Christ stands behind Yeshua and that it is he who sends the devil’s team to earth to deal with the Russian people. Who are these people? House managers and cashiers? Yes, they are swindlers and sinners. But there are also ordinary people who gather in the hall of the Variety Theater when the devil turns money into pieces of paper. And poor women run and catch these pieces of paper and run out of this theater naked. Why is this mockery of the people, what are they to blame for? Thus, this feeling of revenge extends not only to the authorities - the evil spirits that rule on earth and which must be dealt with by the higher evil spirits already sent by Jesus, but also to the Russian people. And the idea itself is fundamentally false: the Lord can never take the devil into his service so that he can deal with ordinary people. Well, Berlioz’s head was cut off, and Berlioz is a supporter of the ideas of the Comintern, but the rest of the people from the branch of the entertainment commission who sing “The Glorious Sea, Sacred Baikal”, what are they to blame for? The feeling of guilt before the people inherent in Russian writers turns into a feeling in Bulgakov guilt of the people before the intelligentsia. This is the ending of this undoubtedly wonderful writer. We pay tribute to Bulgakov as a courageous man who accomplished a feat by writing this book while already dying, but this is in no way a continuation of Gogol - this is my opinion. After all, how is Bulgakov’s presence in the literature of the 20th century interpreted today? Like the presence of Gogol's student. It is obvious, however, that Gogol could not have such plots. In Gogol, in general, the poetry of vengeance could not prevail over the poetry of compassion. And here the poetry of vengeance took over.

In turn, Andrei Platonov, who worked simultaneously with Bulgakov, when he portrays the “old people” in “Chevengur”, cries. Platonov is rooting for him, this is his grief, his misfortune, because he himself is from this people, he is the son of a mechanic. Platonov’s tragedy is that he first believed in the revolution, and then saw that it was destroying him own people. Hence this feeling of compassion, pain and shame about the destruction of the “old people” for the sake of the emergence in the future of a “new people”, the very people for whom the dying people are waiting in “Chevengur” (there, as you remember, even a cockroach sits on the windowsill and also waiting for communism). It can be said that abstract concept communism must appear in the form of a “future man” who will replace these unfortunate, sinful, weak “old” people. And therefore, one of the main characters of “Chevengur” Sasha Dvanov, who sincerely wanted to transform the world, goes under the water, where his father went. That is, he goes back to the past, to tradition. Do you understand? Of course, it is difficult to interpret Platonov unambiguously, but this idea is certainly visible there.

We have now reached the 1930s, when the wave of violent service to the age is rising very high. Even such talented writers as Alexei Tolstoy faithfully serve the century.

M.V. Demurin. Igor Petrovich, could you give a little explanation here of what you mean by the words “service to the century”? After all, “serving the century” is not “serving power”? In other words, do you mean that they recognized that this power is in keeping with the age, and not categorically opposed to it?

I.P. Zolotussky. Of course, you are right, because we cannot deny the power that existed in Russia at that time its ability to manipulate the great ideas that it inherited from the great minds of the past, including from many of the testaments of Christianity. Therefore, of course, this is not just service in order to receive a large fee, 23 orders, a dacha, etc., no. This is, indeed, a situation when there is a feeling that it is possible to remake the people and thus save them, even by killing most of them.

Of course, we cannot forget that part talented literature The 20th century seems to be trying to move away from this pressure, and a lot of historical novels. Zlobin is writing a book about Stepan Razin, Shishkov is writing a book about Pugachev, Sergeev-Tsensky is writing a book about the Sevastopol Battle, etc. We have examples and attempts to get away from these destructive ideas that threaten the death of literature, and, going into the past, in heroic examples Russian history, to restore at least the level of nobility, if possible. It worked and, on the other hand, did not contradict the policy of a very intelligent government, which did not do what the new government has now done: it did not destroy the Russian hierarchy, in which the ideal is at the top, and prosperity, convenience, comfort and anything else is at the bottom. She often filled it with false content, especially in the field of ideas, but this verticality, this hierarchy was preserved. Therefore, no matter how much Tolstoy contradicted the ideology of power, we studied him at school. We studied Gogol, Tyutchev, Pushkin. Dostoevsky was in the shadows, but in vain, by the way: he would have served the Bolsheviks well. You know, when in 1918 they erected that monument to Dostoevsky, which now stands near the former Mariinsky Hospital on Dostoevsky Street in Moscow, Lunacharsky consulted on what to write there. And one clever man advised: write “Dostoevsky from grateful demons.” By the way, the monument to Merkurov is wonderful. Dostoevsky stands somehow, either unwinding or twisting, stands half-turned, bowing his head, and some kind of movement, some kind of instability is felt.

With the beginning of the Great Patriotic War, a new wave came in Russian literature of the 20th century. We cannot say that great books have appeared about this war, but in the face of the misfortune of a people, how can one wish for its destruction? Russian literature of the 20th century did not reach this point, after all. And the fact that the war raised the past itself from the bottom of life, to which the authorities were forced to turn - I mean traditions, orders, shoulder straps ... - this is not all an empty matter. This was an attempt to atone not even for a mistake, but for his sin before the people. One sin that tormented Russian literature of the 19th century was a sin against the serf people, and this was already a sin against the people who were tortured by the new government. Hence the appearance of such things as “In the Trenches of Stalingrad,” to which Stalin gave Stalin Prize. But this is a thing about ordinary soldiers, about people fighting in the trenches, not about some generals, admirals, etc. And war poetry, and military journalism, and military prose (although prose takes years to settle, this requires distance; Tolstoy wrote “War and Peace” only in the 1860s), returned compassion, pity, and the desire to protect the people to literature. This is understandable: we were attacked and the people found themselves in a state where they were being destroyed by a foreign people. There were, however, also false attempts to exalt those who were not worthy of it, I mean Pavlenko’s novel “Happiness” about the post-war period, dedicated to Stalin and which received the Stalin Prize of the first degree. No one is saying that at that time a book could appear that would have an objective look at the beginning of the war, at the middle of the war and at the war in general, but it was a single impulse to return, if you like, to the old sounds that were heard in the 19th century.

M.V. Demurin. Igor Petrovich, you are right when you say that no work equal to “War and Peace” has appeared on the war in general. Even a distance of fifty years or more did not allow this to be done. And, in my opinion, it will no longer allow it. The fact is that, unlike the 19th century, when the value vertical that you spoke about remained the same throughout the entire century, at the end of the 20th century it turned upside down. Plus, time itself was compressed much more strongly in the 20th century than in the 19th. In my opinion, the deepest and most piercing pages about a person in war, which we see in the military prose of its direct participants or contemporaries, are unique and cannot be surpassed. You can’t write better than those who experienced it themselves. Moreover, what they themselves said immediately after the war is higher than what was written decades later. The century continued to “roll away” writers.

I.P. Zolotussky. Yes, there is a reason for this. Undoubtedly.

M.V. Demurin. As a kind of illustration to my thought, if you will allow me, a few words about Platonov’s military prose, which we just talked about. There are not many of them, these stories are seven or eight, but each is a masterpiece. I especially remember how in “Spiritualized People” Platonov shows the roots of readiness for heroism: for one of the sailors defending Sevastopol, this is the thought of his beloved and loving mother, for another - about his beloved woman or bride, for a third - the earth, and before by throwing himself under the tank, he kisses her greedily, to the fourth he gives strength a feeling of unity with his comrades and with all the people, to the fifth - the thought that they will be remembered. And they, as Platonov writes, go “to defend the good truth of the Russian people with the indestructible strength of a soldier.” And such words as “blessing”, “highest meaning” appear, the absolutely Orthodox thought that there are moments when “ better than death no life". Indeed, all of these are the highest ideals of real Russian literature.

I.P. Zolotussky. Yes, precisely the resurrection of memory. Memory was, as it were, cut off, a kind of boundary pillar was placed on it: everything begins in 1917, and what happened before is unworthy of attention. This pillar was finally torn down during the war.

M.V. Demurin. And one more observation. Platonov has an extremely tragic story, “Recovery of the Dead.” In it, a mother dies on the grave of her children killed by the Germans, and the Germans also violated their bodies. It is written in such a way that the analogy with the death of Sophia at the grave of Faith, Hope and Love is absolutely clear. But it was impossible not to publish this story, since it was written about that war and those immeasurable sufferings. They didn't dare. Yes, there were, of course, those who were dishonest in their words, but when someone wrote honestly, “close” it Then it was impossible.

I.P. Zolotussky. I agree with you. Continuing the theme of Platonov’s military prose, I will say that, in my opinion, the best story in Russian literature of the 20th century, if not about the war, then about the consequences of the war, is “The Return.” This is a great story. The father comes home, and what is important is not so much that he finds out that his wife gave in to some man who helped the children, but how he sees his son: he is older than him, wiser. This amazes him. He understands that he is returning to his family, where everyone grew up, but he remained the same at the front.

M.V. Demurin. In general, it must be said that if the feat of women at the front was given due credit, then not enough has been said about the tragic situation of the civilian population, especially women, both in our rear, and in the occupation or in slavery in Germany.

I.P. Zolotussky. If we talk about women deported to Germany, there is a wonderful book by Vitaly Semin “Znak Ost”. As for the woman in the rear, Abramov wrote about this beautifully in his novel “Brothers and Sisters.” Abramov said that a monument to the Russian woman should be erected.

In general, among the war writers there are many forgotten people, such as Viktor Kurochkin, for example, a wonderful St. Petersburg writer. I would also name Konstantin Vorobyov, especially his stories “Killed near Moscow” and “This is us, Lord!” The last one is about captivity, a terrible thing, written in 1944 in the attic of a house in Siauliai, where the Germans were and he was a partisan. This is the fate of the writer! He is from the Kursk village, his mother gave birth to him from some German officer of the First World War, who was stationed with them. He learned, began to write for the newspaper, wrote a note about how grain was stolen and how collective farmers were treated unfairly, and was forced to flee from his native village. He ends up in Moscow, and since he was more than two meters tall, he becomes a Kremlin cadet. Their company goes to the front in the fall of 1941 - this is what “Killed near Moscow” is about. Then he is captured, and there even earlier disappointment pushes him to Vlasov, and he works for Vlasov in the newspaper. Then he sees who Vlasov is, leaves Vlasov, goes to partisan detachment and ends the war as a partisan. After the war, he was beaten up and was not allowed to publish for some time. He lived in Vilnius because he married a Lithuanian woman, and died there. Iskander and I, through Rutskoi, ensured that he was reburied in Kursk at a military cemetery. Then his wife, also a partisan, was buried there. In a word, Vorobiev is, of course, an outstanding figure. Not Simonov, not Grossman, but Vorobiev.

I believe that literature about the Great Patriotic War has not ended, that it will continue. It seems to me that it is impossible to forget this. Although there was no one in my family who was at the front - only because my parents were in the camps - as long as I am alive, I cannot forget the war. I think this is passed down from grandfathers through children to grandchildren and great-grandchildren, and they will write such books. They will sit in archives, collect documents and memories, and read them, as Tolstoy did. Don't they really want the history of their Fatherland to be resurrected? No, I don't believe in that.

Anticipating the conversation about post-war years, I would like to return to the idea of ​​the wave-like development of Russian literature of the 20th century. After the “Silver Age”, which took from the classics only its mastery, moreover, distorted by the influence of irreligious philosophy, and led to the decline of the spirit of Russian literature, literature no longer feels sin before the people. God is removed from her, complacency and glorification of the exceptional take root in her. From serving the people, she moves on to serving the authorities. Thus, the ideal of literature is lowered and pragmatized. A change of cultures is taking place: the nobility leaves, the mass or folk culture. Revolutionary culture leaves the 20th century with the remnants of the mastery of Russian classics, but the idea of ​​atonement for sin before the people is replaced by the idea of ​​\u200b\u200bthe extermination of the “old people”. Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy was ready to “exterminate” the nobility and himself. Here the revolutionary verdict hangs over the majority of the people. There is a complete deification of Christian literature in the past. That is, this is the era when literature embodies the idea expressed by Blok: “Freedom, freedom, Eh, Eh, without a cross!” And now to the Great Patriotic War and especially after it comes a new wave. The point is not that Stalin died or Khrushchev said something like that. The fact is that in literature itself there arises a desire for return and transformation. As the peak of this wave in the 1970s, such a phenomenon as “peasant” or “village” prose appeared on the scene.

This “peasant” literature is written by people who not only sympathize with the peasantry, but who themselves grew up in peasant families. Moreover, it is written by peasants who grew up in the second generation, that is, after those who were dispossessed and sent to the front. There is an unexpected renewal of 20th century literature due to the return of 19th century literature. We see a return to the pages of literature of the great Russian language, still preserved by the remnants of the peasantry. After all, the great Russian writers drew their language precisely from the peasantry and the clergy. This generation of people is born, and it produces literature that prolongs the life of the authentic Russian language, which at that time was undergoing conversational level in life there is shallowing and impoverishment. And it returns the reader to what was lost over the course of a century - to Christian ideals. Who is in this galaxy? Of course, I include, first of all, Fyodor Abramov - amazing writer, in many ways Soviet, but at the end of his life he came to the truths that we talked about. You know, after Nekrasov there was no writer in Russian literature who wrote about a woman with such sympathy. His first novel, Brothers and Sisters, as I said, is a poem about a woman who plows on herself, who carries the war on her shoulders. Next, this is Shukshin. This is Rasputin. This is Vasily Belov, who is much richer than Rasputin, in terms of language, I mean. This is Viktor Astafiev. This is Konstantin Vorobiev. This is, finally, Vladimir Tendryakov. After the death of Vladimir Tendryakov, his peasant stories, which he wrote at the beginning of his work, were published. This is a wonderful thing that exceeds in strength " Matrenin Dvor» Solzhenitsyn. This is Boris Mozhaev, of course. We can say that in the 1970s we had the dominance of such literature, it prevailed over everything. And I must say that it was recognized. This is explained by some softening of the power itself, which is also transforming and moving from fierce and executing revolutionism to some softening. Although it was in the 1970s that the departure from Russia began new wave emigration.

In the 1960s and 1970s, we also observed such a trend in literature as “urban” prose. This is, first of all, Yuri Trifonov. He is precisely an “urban” writer, with all the conventionality of this definition, who, I would say, not only exposed philistinism, lack of spirituality, petty interests, but also tried to comprehend and comprehended, as it seems to me, in the story “Another Life” a different content of life - the highest, which was inaccessible to even the most daring “Soviet” literature. Vladimir Maksimov did this in his story “Seven Days of Creation.” It was written here in Russia.

A very major figure in Russian literature of the 1960s and early 1970s is Varlam Shalamov. This is, of course, a writer opposing Solzhenitsyn, although their experience is outwardly similar, but Shalamov’s hero is a stoic. He is not a fighter, not an avenger, not a destroyer, he is one who endures. And this patience reaches in the image of Shalamov enormous power. Shalamov does not believe in God, but he is supported not only by his own spirit and upbringing, but also by literature. In turn, Solzhenitsyn is a destroyer, he is a crusher, he is an avenger, he is the same Christ whom Michelangelo portrayed in the Sistine Chapel.

Aksenov, of course, gave brilliant examples of “urban” prose. I mean, first of all, his stories. Not so much early novels and stories, as many stories. Then he wrote a strong and difficult thing - the novel “Burn”. But Aksenov’s best work, a wonderful thing, is “In Search of a Genre.” This is real artistic thing- musical, beautiful. Then Aksenov began to write some social things... In general, I must say, even the best minds gone socially crazy. And Georgy Vladimov, and Solzhenitsyn too.

Solzhenitsyn needs to be mentioned separately. This is, of course, a kind of Colossus of Rhodes. He, you remember, stood above the entrance to the harbor and determined who was passing through the height of the mast and who was not. This is how it is with Solzhenitsyn: what is not included in his positive system of concepts “will not pass between his legs.” Can be compared with Tolstoy, who loved to give marks while reading someone's books, from +5 to -1. Solzhenitsyn also has an invisible notebook where he gives ratings to any phenomenon or person. The main thing that makes Solzhenitsyn a writer is his language. His most powerful works are “One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich”, “Matrenin’s Dvor”, his stories. And in “Archipelago” the language is beautiful. Everything else is much weaker. I think that Solzhenitsyn is, after all, no longer a literary phenomenon, but a historical, historical and social phenomenon. In this capacity, as I already said, he is the same Jesus in the scene Last Judgment at Michelangelo's. Who decides the fate of sinners there? This is a gladiator: strong muscles, Strong arms, and with a sharp, chopping stroke right hand sends sinners to hell. The Mother of God, who is sitting nearby, turns away: she cannot see this cruelty. Solzhenitsyn is the same avenger.

M.V. Demurin. Do you think he had the right to do this?

I.P. Zolotussky. I think no. Of course not. But that's the character. This is the nature of talent. Such is fate. It must be said that towards the end of his life Solzhenitsyn softened greatly. I listened to his interviews over the years and saw that he understood a lot about himself, he realized that he was mistaken in many ways, that his categoricalness and maximalism were wrong. He appeared surprisingly different to me. Although I cannot boast that I knew Solzhenitsyn well, I at least read him. In any case, this is a very large figure and people will argue about her for a long time and discuss what role she played in the literature of the 20th century. Moreover, both in Russia and in the West. What kind of lava she excited, raised from the center of the earth - scalding and even burning lava. Solzhenitsyn might even burn it!

As for “Ivan Denisovich,” when in Finland we read this thing out loud at seminars (I taught there at the university in 1993–1996), the Finnish students cried. I told Alexander Isaevich about this, and he didn’t believe it. I said: yes, that's right. I invited him to appear on television, but he replied that now was not the time to talk about literature. I say: “No, now is the time to talk about this, because the younger generation does not know you as a writer. Everyone knows you as a social thinker, a fighter, etc., and your short story squeezes tears out of Finnish children.” He then replied: “Yes, the eternal remains eternal.” But he was still relatively young then.

How does Russian literature of the 20th century end - and, as I believe, it ended? We see a new wave-like pullback, fall. This is literature decay and decline. No service to God, the authorities, or the people. Freedom without a cross, as Blok said. Even such talented writers as Makanin have fallen into this hole: we don’t want to serve anyone, we don’t want to protect anyone, we don’t want to love anyone. And without this there is no literature! This, of course, is a fad of the times, the result of the false freedom that came to Russia.

But you and I are already in beginning of XXI century. This year I had to read a lot of books that were submitted for the " Yasnaya Polyana" - Tolstoy Prize. Previously, these were meager parcels in which we found rather mediocrely written manuscripts with mediocre meaning. Now the supply of such manuscripts has increased sharply, and pearls of real talent have appeared among them. This makes me very happy. They come from everywhere, not only from Moscow; The authors are both women and men. And that’s what made me think... I seemed to have received an answer to the question asked by Vera in Goncharov’s “Precipice”: what to rely on? She cannot rely on Volokhov, she cannot yet rely on God (God does not accept her sin), and her grandmother also sinned in her youth. “What to rely on?” - this is the main question of the novel. It seems to me that this question has arisen now, and the writers have felt it. There is only one answer: for the family. Therefore, most novels and stories, regardless of their artistic level, are dedicated to family. On the one hand, the level of language has risen and it has become more precise. Mercy appeared, which is not found in any bulls or others. On the other hand, I see this attraction to the nest, to the family, to the only thing a person can rely on now. Perhaps this is a global process in general, I don’t know, but people are looking for a way out, because the world is in crisis, and not only financially. And family is, of course, God. It is not written about this directly, but it is written that a family is a community, it is an understanding of each other, a desire to help each other grow. Such a desire arose in society, and writers felt it.

And now I'm ready to answer your questions.

M.V. Demurin. Igor Petrovich, my first question concerns your idea that after the revolution the main trend in Russian literature was a departure from compassion for the people. But there are many examples showing that this compassion was preserved. I remember, say, Lavrenev, his work “Wood Engraving”. Or "Forty-one". Both there and there – great pain and great compassion, love for a person. Could all this have disappeared, even under the influence of revolutionary times? Accordingly, a real writer had to reflect this; there is no escape from it.

I.P. Zolotussky. Of course it couldn't. As someone who was born in 1930 and lived during that era, I experienced this firsthand. If it weren’t for the feelings you just talked about, which I discovered in many people I met along the way when I was a homeless child, then I probably wouldn’t have survived. To put it in a high style, it was then that I fell in love with my people. I didn't know him before that. I was the son of a general, an intelligence officer, I lived in Moscow, you know? In the morning a Red Army soldier brought us rations. We lived mainly abroad. I didn’t know what country I lived in, among what people. And when life brought me down, I found out. I came across all sorts of people: evil, envious, all kinds. But more often than not, my friends and I came across kind and compassionate people who saved us, who took pity on us, us boys, hungry and ragged. They pulled us out of these states, and, I repeat, if it weren’t for them, I would not have been able to survive.

As for Lavrenev, in “The Forty-First,” of course, there is compassion for both the officer and Maryutka, but still she kills him. Everything that came with the revolution has not yet disappeared into thin air.

I.L. Brazhnikov. Tell me, Igor Petrovich, today, in the second decade XXI century, what is your attitude to the appearance of Jesus Christ at the head of the Red Guards in Alexander Blok’s poem “12”?

I.P. Zolotussky. You know, maybe I’m mistaken, maybe it’s in my old age that such thoughts come to my mind, but I believe that there is no other way. Yes, the path of the Red Guards was crooked, the path was bloody, the path was strewn with corpses, but still Blok could not help himself. When he was reproached for putting Christ at the head of this procession, he said: I agree that He should not be here, but at some point I felt that I could not live without it. And I feel the same way now. Only Christ can be there in front. There is no other. And it doesn't matter who goes. Maybe it will be a crowd of ragamuffins, maybe it will be, excuse me, killers, saying modern language, let it be stealing officials or lying ideologists, but only He is ahead. The Lord always warns. Sometimes he warns strictly, through punishment. He punishes, but he also forgives, opens the way for you to be different. I experienced and understood this myself. I think this happens to many people, but it can also happen to society and the country as a whole.

I.L. Brazhnikov. One more question. What is your explanation for the unexpected “transformation” that happened to Sergei Yesenin between the lines “Lord! I believe...” (“Advent”, 1917) and “The Body, the Body of Christ I spit out of my mouth”? ("Inonia", 1918). What kind of revolution could have occurred in the soul of the poet, who performed in the costume of Ivan Tsarevich in front of royal family in 1916, and in 1919 - 1920, positioning his hero as a “hooligan”?

I.P. Zolotussky. The question is certainly legitimate, but it is very difficult to answer. I think that the explanation must be sought through Yesenin’s artistic life. Yesenin was to a large extent an artist who was moved by the public, and what they demanded, shouted and called for with their applause, he did. Again, we must understand that this was a peasant's son who ended up in the city. Let's say, Tolstoy would never have done this, I mean speaking in front of the royal family, and not only Tolstoy. But we must forgive Yesenin for this. By the way, I love Yesenin very much and often remember his words:

The pot-bellied "Capital" lies like the Bible...
No, never, no matter the weather
I haven't read these books, of course.

In addition, regarding the topic you raised, we must take into account that Yesenin recent years I was already a ruined person in my life.

M.V. Demurin. Speaking about Sholokhov, you spoke only about “Quiet Don” and said nothing about “Virgin Soil Upturned” and his other works. But “Virgin Soil Upturned”, “The Fate of Man”, “They Fought for the Motherland” are also all filled with compassion for people.

I.P. Zolotussky.“Virgin Soil Upturned” was already written, I would say, under a different sun than “Quiet Don”. Sholokhov was young then, he was fearless then. This is evidenced by his salvation of Platonov’s son. Who saved Platonov’s son by pulling him out of Norilsk? Sholokhov did it. He himself turned to Stalin with a request to return him. We know the facts of how Sholokhov saved his one-time residents. There were no loyal dogs of power among them; he simply felt sorry for these people and considered them useful. That is, there was a lot in the actions of Sholokhov the man that could not help but be reflected in his “Virgin Soil Upturned.” I agree that this is not an odious book, where everything is written in two colors: white and black. Although, of course, the White Guards, Ostrovnov is depicted with a tendency. Just like Kosheva in Quiet Don. These were Sholokhov's concessions. Nevertheless, of course, he feels sorry for all of them, of course, even Nagulnov. It's in the book. They do not arouse either rejection or hatred, of course. Sholokhov's military prose is little known. Mostly only his story “The Fate of Man” is known. I can’t say that this is one of the best Russian stories, but it was beautifully played in the cinema and produced strong impression. As for his unfinished novel “They Fought for the Motherland,” its fate is not entirely clear to me. On the one hand, there are wonderful pieces that also ended up in the film, and there is purely party journalism, written in the language of the Pravda newspaper. I know that it was not for nothing that Khrushchev, a rude and stubborn man, visited him. Sholokhov, of course, was not Tolstoy in the sense that Leo Tolstoy could refuse Nobel Prize. Tolstoy was free man, and Sholokhov was not free.

I.L. Brazhnikov. Is it possible, in your opinion, to talk about “national-bolshevism” author's position in Alexei Tolstoy's novel "Walking in Torment" and "The White Guard" by Mikhail Bulgakov?

I.P. Zolotussky. Bulgakov definitely doesn’t have this. Bulgakov in this novel is far from such ideas. Many pages of the novel speak about this. And, most importantly, the novel ends with a Red Army armored train approaching the city and a “reddish” war star, as Bulgakov writes, Mars, lighting up in the sky. To the Red Army sentry it appears to be five-pointed, and the same red five-pointed star shines on his chest. Let me remind you that " White Guard"was written in 1925 and published abroad. And the play “Days of the Turbins,” written as if on the basis of this novel, is a pitiful composition, because Bulgakov distorted everything there, remade everything. He really wanted it to be on stage. As for Alexei Tolstoy, he is the “third Tolstoy,” as Bunin called him, who did not believe in the sincerity of Alexei Tolstoy, knowing that he was cynical and arrogant. And it is quite possible that Alexey Tolstoy was ready to make any agreement with this idea and its executors.

I.L. Brazhnikov. Igor Petrovich, how, from your point of view, could the concepts of Revolution and Christianity be combined in creative consciousness Merezhkovsky, Blok, Voloshin, Klyuev, Yesenin, etc.?

I.P. Zolotussky. Firstly, these were all baptized people, people raised by their Orthodox grandmothers, grandfathers, and fathers. True, Blok’s father was an unbeliever. But Blok is a great breakthrough to God, a breakthrough through one’s own sins, through temptations and seductions! This is the greatness of Blok, this intellectual, the son of a professor at the University of Warsaw, who separated from his mother, a man who married Mendeleev’s daughter and destroyed her. I usually don’t talk about this in lectures, but this theory of “eternal femininity” distorted their lives, he did not touch his wife, you know, considering her “eternal femininity” that cannot be touched with hands. And he put her on the path... First Bely appeared, then others followed. She became an artist, began to tour, and gave birth to a child. She was unhappy because of this. This is one of Blok's great sins.

As for the revolution, Blok approached it, of course, as an artist. He heard the sounds of music in it, the music of Wagner. Please note: when he writes about the music of the revolution, he never mentions Russian composers, but only Wagner. Blok was smart, Blok was great person, but he believed that music would save us, that in the revolution, in this noise coming towards us, some kind of higher new music. This was his great delusion and, of course, his tragedy.

I don’t know deeply about Merezhkovsky’s fate, but I see that Merezhkovsky was a “theoretical” Christian, the leader.

Yesenin is completely a child of the Russian village, who cannot tear himself away from God: “put me in a Russian shirt under the icons to die,” he asks.

A real Christian is, of course, Voloshin. He is a Christian without any of these quarrels in his head in the spirit of Dostoevsky, a Christian in his soul and heart. He pitied everyone, saved everyone, helped everyone. This is a wonderful figure of Russian life and, of course, Russian poetry. Voloshin is purer than all of them.

I.L. Brazhnikov. Igor Petrovich, how do you assess Rozanov’s place in literary process XX century?

I.P. Zolotussky. Rozanov introduced a very strong sounding note of nihilism into Russian consciousness, into Russian literature. He, as an instigator of Dostoevsky (Dostoevsky has a lot of such heroes), constantly attempted to challenge shrines, including Christ. He's done this before last days your life, and only in yours last job“The Apocalypse of Our Time” Rozanov partly recognizes Christ. What were his differences with Christianity and Christ? In the supposedly existing contempt of Christianity for the problem of sex, Christianity’s ignorance of this problem, its attitude towards it as a crime and a manifestation of the lowest feelings of man. This caused Rozanov’s protest already in religious and philosophical terms. As for his assessment of Russian literature, he was cruelly mistaken and severely failed in his assessment of Gogol. He wrote about Gogol as a man who walked across Russia with his laughter, destroying everything and crushing everything under himself. He wrote that it was not a person, but just a certain character evil spirits. This is how he evaluates Gogol. Gogol, who, in fact, brought light. Rozanov said about himself this way: I have an angel of laughter sitting on one shoulder, and an angel of tears on the other shoulder. That is, he was a man, of course, feeling, understanding a lot, very talented, but, in my opinion, very cynical.

V.V.Averyanov. Igor Petrovich, what, in your opinion, is the place of Velimir Khlebnikov in contemporary literature and in the literature of the future?

I.P. Zolotussky. I would say that Khlebnikov is a writer for writers. This is a poet who has been and will be read only by poetry lovers. They will look for some external formal achievements in it that may be useful to them. But he will never be a writer of the Russian people. This is a private, talented, of course, but a bizarre and distant phenomenon.

V.V.Averyanov. What do you think about the work of Leonid Leonov, his method, in particular, in the novel “Pyramid”?

I.P. Zolotussky. I read the novel “Pyramid” only in fragments. I don't even know what to call it. In my opinion, this is some kind of madness of old age. Leonov was never a philosopher, but in the novel “Pyramid” he suddenly turned into a philosophical writer and was unable to unravel his own philosophical thoughts. As for the method in his prose, it is very uneven. Leonov is precisely one of those writers who succumbed to pressure. He wrote, on the one hand, "Badgers" or wonderful play“Invasion”, and on the other hand, “Russian Forest”, typical Soviet novel, Where negative heroes have a last name ending in “-sky” and there is a whiff of “Western influence” around them. This is what Simonov wrote, but for Leonov it is unworthy. In a word, Leonid Leonov is a broken Russian phenomenon an overall failed writer.

V.V.Averyanov. Could you describe in general outline his vision of the poetic process in the second half of the 20th century: how adequate is it in public consciousness the image of such figures as Brodsky, Voznesensky, Vysotsky, Rubtsov, others? Where are the boundaries between myths about poets and great poetry?

I.P. Zolotussky. Myths surround all these names, especially the name of Brodsky. Let's start with him. Recently a monument to Brodsky appeared in Moscow. It stands in the courtyard of a house opposite the American Embassy, ​​on the other side of the street. Brodsky is depicted there as a man with his head raised high, and behind him is a crowd of some homeless people, or readers who do not understand him, some kind of gray mass. And I ask myself a question: why does Pushkin bow his head on the monument, Gogol bows his head on the monument, Dostoevsky bows his head on the monument, and Brodsky raises his nose up? Doesn't this correspond to his poetics? He is, of course, very talented person, I read his wonderful afterword to Platonov’s “The Pit,” no one wrote it like he did. He was smart, but the early Brodsky was a genuine poet, and the late Brodsky is already a versifier.

Voznesensky was also a talented person. He started very well. His first collection “Mosaic” was published in Vladimir in the early 1960s, and I still remember a line from this book, from the poem “Autumn”: “...The shine of the last web, the last bicycle spokes.” This is how Voznesensky was. But these “shir”, “byr”, “myr” - Khlebnikov’s burps of recent years - are not poetry.

What can I say about Vysotsky? Vysotsky is ourselves, this is our life. Was he a poet? I think no. He's a street singer.

But Rubtsov is a real poet. Of course, from Yesenin’s wing. But, unfortunately, he wrote little and remained lonely. There is no continuation.

M.V. Demurin: Speaking about Russian poetry of the 20th century, it is apparently impossible to ignore the figures of Akhmatova and Tsvetaeva? And if we talk about last third XX century, then Glushkova?

I.P. Zolotussky. Of course, but when I hear the names of Akhmatova and Tsvetaeva, I always think: why doesn’t anyone name Zabolotsky? After all, the great poet of the 20th century was Zabolotsky, and not, say, Pasternak, who wrote the last beautiful poems, including them in the weak novel Doctor Zhivago. I bow to Akhmatova. Tsvetaeva annoys me with her passion, her intensity. It's like Beethoven, whose music always weighs on me. I think that the names of Tsvetaeva, Mandelstam, Pasternak, and partly even Akhmatova, fade next to Zabolotsky.

Tatyana Glushkova – wonderful poet. Mikhail Vasilyevich and I had the opportunity to listen to her poems performed by Savva Yamshchikov. I knew her. I met in Mikhailovsky, where she led excursions. This woman was lonely, sick, but a wonderful poet. She loved Sviridov very much and dedicated wonderful poems to him. Her collection “I’m not telling you goodbye...”, from which Yamshchikov read to us, lies on my shelf all the time, and I love it very much.

M.V. Demurin. If we talk about “urban” prose, about works like “I’m Going into the Storm” by Granin or “The Pulpit” by I. Grekova, then they also contain the vector of protecting the people that you spoke about. I mean an attempt to understand the psychology of a contemporary, to protect him from violating moral principles, be it in science or in private life...

I.P. Zolotussky. This is still more of a piece of journalism. A certain inner-intellectual truth that does not rise above this.

V.V.Averyanov. Do you see stars of the first magnitude in Russian literature of the late 20th century?

I.P. Zolotussky. No. The last rise of the 20th century, as I already said, “ village prose", but this is the 1970s. Most writers of this trend no longer exist. Only Belov and Rasputin are alive. In the 1980s - 1990s, Rasputin released several strong things. Some of them, including the story “What to tell the crow?”, were included in the collection “Live a Century, Love a Century.” There was another cycle wonderful stories. These are the things of a completely new Rasputin.

I would also like to name Fazil Iskander. He also wrote a saga, which I certainly do not compare with the Forsyte Saga, but, in any case, Sandro of Chegem is the only epic written in the 20th century. Except, of course, for Nabokov.

V.Yu. Venediktov. Igor Petrovich, I just have a question about Nabokov. He somehow dropped out of your story. It is clear that this is a writer of emigration, and a Russian writer lives only in his homeland or in direct connection with it. However, Nabokov, even having written some of his works in English language, remained, in my opinion, a major Russian writer. How do you evaluate his work? I also have a specific interest. Perhaps you are aware of the sensational “controversy” about. Vsevolod Chaplin around Lolita? Do you agree with his opinion that “Lolita” needs to be reconsidered for the presence of outright childbearing (“pedophilia”)?

I.P. Zolotussky. I read an interview with this church leader. Let's start with the fact that there is a mistake in it. Lolita, indeed, was then refused to be published in America because of doubts about the morality of this work, and it was published in France, but not in a pornographic publishing house. In general, it seems to me that “Lolita” has nothing to do with pornography. It's a poetic thing. If we talk about pedophilia... What will we do with Fyodor Mikhailovich then? After all, in Dostoevsky this is more clearly expressed! Take Crime and Punishment, where we're talking about about the story of Svidrigailov’s girl. Take The Brothers Karamazov, when Ivan and the girl are riding in a stroller and petting her. In "The Possessed" Stavrogin corrupted an orphan. This motif appears everywhere in Dostoevsky. I even ventured to say in my “Tale about Gogol,” which I spoke on the anniversary day, that in the second volume of “Dead Souls” there is such a detail: Chichikov’s father took in an orphan and corrupted her, and that Gogol gave this plot to Dostoevsky. I do not want to claim that Dostoevsky himself was involved in this, although Strakhov doubted it and wrote in his letter to Tolstoy that Dostoevsky was writing all this about himself. I just want to say that these scenes, this attraction, this passion are expressed much more strongly in Fyodor Mikhailovich than in Lolita or Marquez. It would seem that Dostoevsky wants to tell us how low his criminal and depraved characters have fallen, but it is written so powerfully that it is captivating.

I can’t say about Nabokov that after reading “Lolita” someone might want to go and rape the neighbor’s girl. The main character's love does not bring happiness. There is so much poetry in this novel! Remember, swinging your hand while playing tennis... That's what is valuable to me. Dostoevsky does not have this at all. I'm not even talking about the descriptions of the American provincial towns where they stayed. From this novel I recognized provincial America.

If we talk about Nabokov as a whole, then this is, of course, a huge phenomenon. My attitude towards him began with rejection. At first he seemed arrogant, cold, etc. to me, but then I realized that this was not so. Now I think that after Platonov, this is the second Russian writer of the 20th century who will remain. I really love his stories, his first novels written in Russian - “Mashenka”, “The Gift” and others. I even love his poems, in which his soul was expressed stronger than in prose, more sincerely. In his prose, Nabokov is closed; he does not allow anyone to get close to him. He writes about the heavy burden of morality, which he is tired of. It would seem that he is rejecting everything from himself. And in poetry he is very open - just as in his memories of the death of his father (he saw him killed in 1922 by a terrorist). And even having started writing in English, he still continues to be a Russian writer. In English he writes a novel called "Bend Sinister". This, in my opinion, is the best anti-totalitarian novel that exists in the world. It is translated into Russian as “Under the sign of the illegitimate,” since “bend sinister” is a heraldic name that denotes a certain stripe that runs through the coat of arms and indicates that its owner is the illegitimate child of an aristocrat. This is a wonderful book; it could not have been written by a non-Russian writer. Everything that he experienced as a Russian person, no matter where he lived - in America, in Paris, in Geneva or near Geneva - it’s all there. There's such pain there! And at the same time... an irresistible connection with the Russian literature of the 19th century century. The pain that came from there echoed in this novel by Nabokov like an echo, like the sound of a bell. I realized that this is a great Russian writer.

Nabokov is an artistic writer: he always plays with words, always inserts some quotes, is constantly inside Russian literature and its text, but maintains a connection not only with Russian literature, but with Russia itself. Russia is present not only in his memoirs - wonderful, by the way, memoirs called “Speak, Memory” (“Memory, Speak”) and translated by him into Russian - it is present, well, simply in every cell of his poetic word.

And what about the comments to Evgeniy Onegin? Read them, it's a wonderful book! It was written with such patience, such care in reading the text of the novel itself, with such knowledge of life and the literature that surrounded Pushkin at the time he wrote it! This is amazing. By the way, Nabokov’s assessment of Tatiana is not at all the same as Dostoevsky gave her. Tatyana, in Nabokov’s understanding, is a cast from the French novels that she read, these are continuous quotes... I, however, have a completely different attitude towards Tatyana: “... I was given to another and I will be faithful to him forever...”

M.V. Demurin. If she had been a complete cast, she would have succumbed to Onegin’s call in the end, but she still did not succumb. Nevertheless, of course, Tatyana is not a Russian woman in every way: she does not run a household, has no children, sits in the boudoir and cries over seductive letters. Pushkin’s ideal of a Russian woman is Masha Mironova in “ The captain's daughter“, but he didn’t come to him right away, and Tatyana is the most important step.

I.P. Zolotussky. Here you are right. For me, the widow Pshenitsyn from Oblomov is taller than Tatyana. If we talk about “Eugene Onegin”, then this is, in essence, a novel-diary, this is Pushkin’s confession about his growth, about his life, oh their charms and disappointments. The most interesting figure this novel - himself.

M.V. Demurin. Igor Petrovich, why do you think none of the Russian writers of post-revolutionary emigration decided to write a major novel, like “Quiet Don,” a novel about the breakdown of Russian life, which led to 1917, to Civil War? Perhaps Shmelev’s “Sun of the Dead” can also be recalled by Aldanov with his trilogy “The Key”, “Escape” and “Cave”. And what do you think about today's Russian writers who live abroad?

I.P. Zolotussky. The first question is very difficult. Let me just say that “Bend Sinister” is a thing from this category.

As for modern so-called “emigrants”, they have nothing to write about. In general, if we take the problem of the writer and emigration in general, then those who left wrote all their best things in Russia. And Bunin, and Aksenov, and Solzhenitsyn. We are not including Nabokov because he left when he was still a young man. Experience says that Russian literature can truly exist only in Russia. They couldn't create anything like that there.

By the way, about the attitude towards emigration. During a recent trip to Yekaterinburg, I met many interesting people, including one person whose name you probably know: his name is Yuri Roizman. He has his own large meeting Old Believer icons, but he is a Jew. True, his mother is Russian. And the Old Believers let him in, you know? They trust him. I just want to read one of his poems to you. It is, in my opinion, surprising for a man of his generation - he is 49 years old.

So, everything is decided. We're staying.
We're not going. And don't rush anymore.
Let the one who wants to roll. Roll
And you go there. We'll get through somehow.
And if we don’t break through, we’ll break off.
Who needs this kind of life?
If you don’t need it, take it and refuse it.
As for us, we will somehow break through.
Take your time and put together your arguments.
Everything is decided, and we will not run.
And besides, it’s not sweeter in the distance.
Those who have survived here are accustomed to everything.
But how can I leave Russian as my language?
I'm afraid to leave. They'll tear him apart.

V.Yu. Venediktov. Igor Petrovich, I have a personal question about Blok. During the period of revolutionary upheavals, at the beginning of 1918, immediately after finishing the poem “The Twelve,” Blok wrote the poem “Scythians.” Isn’t this poem prophetic in the sense that Blok, ahead of the Eurasians, was the first to give a recipe for preserving Russia and the phenomenon that today is the most different people, putting their own meaning into this, they call it the “Russian nation”:

Millions of you. We are darkness, and darkness, and darkness.
Try it and fight us!
Yes, we are Scythians! Yes, we are Asians
With slanted and greedy eyes!

Shouldn’t Russia, finally, following the “seeing light” of the Bloc, move away from the “Western idol” and finally understand that the path of Russia is the path of the East? That Russia is the East? That Russia is merged with the East? Don't you think that the poem "Scythians" should become the Anthem of Russia as soon as possible?

I.P. Zolotussky. I don’t presume to judge the anthem, but the fact that Blok looked half a century ahead, or even more, is true. He looked in, I think, without even knowing it, like a true poet. After all, it seems that the words you cited were written now! It turns out that he foresaw this.

Many cruel reproaches await you,
Working days, lonely evenings:
Will you rock a sick child?
To wait for the violent husband to come home,
Cry, work - and think sadly,
What did your young life promise you?
What she gave, what she will give in the future...
Poor thing! Better not look ahead!
N. A. Nekrasov. "Wedding"

The 20th century is full of turbulent historical events, which is reflected in literature.
Through numerous works of Russian writers there is a contrast between the fatal chaos of history and eternally beautiful love. The heroes of M. Bulgakov and M. Gorky seek oblivion in love, salvation from difficult questions. For example, the novel “Sisters” from A. Tolstoy’s trilogy “Walking through Torment” ends with a hymn of love and eternal femininity:
“Years will pass, wars will subside, revolutions will cease, and only one thing will remain imperishable - your meek, gentle, beloved heart...”
These words are spoken by Roshchin Kate. The main characters of this work. Katya and Dasha Bulavin are the most beautiful heroines with complex destinies. To me, the images of Aksinya, Natalya and Daria from M. Sholokhov’s novel “Quiet Don” seem more lifelike.
Aksinya was attractive; her beauty was not spoiled even by the wrinkles that appeared from a difficult life. Another heroine, Daria, delights readers with her femininity and energy. Natalya, purely outwardly, can be compared to a gray duck. The author himself often emphasizes in Aksinya - “greedy lips”, in Natalya - “big hands”, in Daria - “thin rims of eyebrows”.
I think that M. Sholokhov does this deliberately, Lips - beauty, passion. Hands - patience, trying to achieve everything with your own work. And eyebrows mean frivolity, an inability to feel deeply.
The heroines of M. Sholokhov are very different, but they are united by the completeness of their perception of life.
I got the impression that in those years the fate of women, as indeed in our time, was not easy. If a husband beat his wife, then this was considered in the order of things: before, the father taught wisdom, and now, therefore, the husband. Here are the consequences of such an attitude of Pantelei Prokofievich towards his wife:
“...in anger he reached the point of unconsciousness and, apparently, this prematurely aged his, once beautiful, but now completely entangled in a web of wrinkles, portly wife.”
But this has always been the case in almost every family. And people perceived this as inevitable and given from above. There was a house, there was a family, there was work on the land, there were children to take care of. And no matter how difficult her lot was, she firmly knew her purpose. And this helped her survive.
And something terrible happened - the war began. And not just a war, but a fratricidal war. When yesterday's neighbors became enemies, when the father did not understand his son, and the brother killed
brother...
It was difficult for even the smart Gregory to understand what was happening. What should a woman do? How should she live?.. Husbands leave, but their wives remain.
The destinies of Aksinya and Natalya are intertwined and dependent on one another. It turns out that if one is happy, then the other is unhappy. M. Sholokhov depicted a kind of love triangle that existed at all times. Natalya loved her husband with all her soul: “...she lived, cultivating an unconscious hope for her husband’s return, leaning on her with a broken spirit. She didn’t write anything to Gregory, but there was no one in the family who would expect a letter from him with such melancholy and pain.”
This tender and fragile woman took upon herself the full measure of suffering given by life. She wanted to do everything to save the family. And only after feeling the futility of this, he decides to commit suicide. Perhaps it was selfishness caused by jealousy that prompted her to do this. Be that as it may, Natalya has changed. Was there such a revolution in Aksinya’s life? It seems to me that he was. Perhaps it came after Tanya's death. Having lost her daughter, she “knew nothing,” didn’t think about anything... Terrible. The mother is alive, and her children are in the ground. There are no continuers of your life, it seems to have been interrupted... And at this difficult moment of her life, Aksinya found herself completely alone. And there was no one to help her... No one? But there was one “compassionate”, closeness with whom led to Aksinya’s break with Gregory. Fate was more merciful to Natalya in this regard. This heroine, to my admiration, possessed truly maternal feelings, which united her with Ilyinichna, but somewhat alienated her from Daria, whose only child died.
It was said briefly about what happened to Daria’s child: “...and Daria’s child died...”
That's all. No unnecessary feelings, emotions... With this M. Sholokhov once again emphasizes that Daria lived only for herself.
Even the death of her husband saddened her for a short time; she quickly recovered. Obviously, Daria did not have deep feelings for Peter, she just got used to him.
I feel sorry for her. Daria is alien to the Melekhov family. She paid dearly for her frivolity. Poor thing! Afraid of waiting for the inevitable, lost from loneliness, Daria decided to commit suicide. And before merging with the waters of the Don, she shouted not to anyone, but to women, since only they could understand her: “Goodbye, little women!”
Not long before this, Natalya also passed away. After their death, Aksinya became close to Gregory's mother. And this is natural. It is a pity that the feelings that united these two women arose so late, literally one step before the death that awaited each of them. If this had happened earlier, perhaps they would have influenced Gregory, they would have been able to do together what each of them could not do separately.
Aksinya and Natalya died, thereby punishing the top of the triangle, leaving Gregory at a crossroads.
Perhaps M. Sholokhov spoke with bitterness about the fate of women. But try to portray it better - it won’t work! Reality is only real if it is true, otherwise it is not reality, but only a parody of it.

Many cruel reproaches await you,
Working days, lonely evenings:
Will you rock a sick child?
To wait for the violent husband to come home,
Cry, work - and think sadly,
What did your young life promise you?
What she gave, what she will give in the future...
Poor thing! Better not look ahead!
N. A. Nekrasov. "Wedding"
The 20th century is full of turbulent historical events, which is reflected in literature.
Through numerous works of Russian writers there is a contrast between the fatal chaos of history and eternally beautiful love. The heroes of M. Bulgakov and M. Gorky seek oblivion in love, salvation from difficult questions. For example, the novel “Sisters” from A. Tolstoy’s trilogy “Walking through Torment” ends with a hymn of love and eternal femininity:
“Years will pass, wars will subside, revolutions will cease, and only one thing will remain imperishable - your meek, gentle, beloved heart...”
These words are spoken by Roshchin Kate. The main characters of this work, Katya and Dasha Bulavin, are the most beautiful heroines with complex destinies. To me, the images of Aksinya, Natalya and Daria from M. Sholokhov’s novel “Quiet Don” seem more lifelike.
Aksinya was attractive; her beauty was not spoiled even by the wrinkles that appeared from a difficult life. Another heroine, Daria, delights readers with her femininity and energy. Natalya, purely outwardly, can be compared to a gray duck. The author himself often emphasizes in Aksinya - “greedy lips”, in Natalya - “big hands”, in Daria - “thin rims of eyebrows”.
I think that M. Sholokhov does this deliberately, Lips - beauty, passion. Hands – patience, trying to achieve everything with your own work. And eyebrows mean frivolity, inability to feel deeply.
The heroines of M. Sholokhov are very different, but they are united by the completeness of their perception of life.
I got the impression that in those years the fate of women, as indeed in our time, was not easy. If a husband beat his wife, then this was considered in the order of things: before, the father taught wisdom, and now, therefore, the husband. Here are the consequences of such an attitude of Pantelei Prokofievich towards his wife:
“...in anger he reached the point of unconsciousness and, apparently, this prematurely aged his, once beautiful, but now completely entangled in a web of wrinkles, portly wife.”
But this has always been the case in almost every family. And people perceived this as inevitable and given from above. There was a house, there was a family, there was work on the land, there were children to take care of. And no matter how difficult her lot was, she firmly knew her purpose. And this helped her survive.
And something terrible happened - the war began. And not just a war, but a fratricidal war. When yesterday's neighbors became enemies, when the father did not understand his son, and the brother killed
brother...
It was difficult for even the smart Gregory to understand what was happening. What should a woman do? How should she live?.. Husbands leave, but their wives remain.
The destinies of Aksinya and Natalya are intertwined and dependent on one another. It turns out that if one is happy, then the other is unhappy. M. Sholokhov depicted a kind of love triangle that existed at all times. Natalya loved her husband with all her soul: “...she lived, cultivating an unconscious hope for her husband’s return, leaning on her with a broken spirit. She didn’t write anything to Gregory, but there was no one in the family who would expect a letter from him with such melancholy and pain.”
This tender and fragile woman took upon herself the full measure of suffering given by life. She wanted to do everything to save the family. And only after feeling the futility of this, he decides to commit suicide. Perhaps it was selfishness caused by jealousy that prompted her to do this. Be that as it may, Natalya has changed. Was there such a revolution in Aksinya’s life? It seems to me that he was. Perhaps it came after Tanya's death. Having lost her daughter, she “knew nothing,” didn’t think about anything... Terrible. The mother is alive, and her children are in the ground. There are no continuers of your life, it seems to have been interrupted... And at this difficult moment of her life, Aksinya found herself completely alone. And there was no one to help her... No one? But there was one “compassionate”, closeness with whom led to Aksinya’s break with Gregory. Fate was more merciful to Natalya in this regard. This heroine, to my admiration, possessed truly maternal feelings, which united her with Ilyinichna, but somewhat alienated her from Daria, whose only child died.
It was said briefly about what happened to Daria’s child: “...and Daria’s child died...”
That's all. No unnecessary feelings, emotions... By this M. Sholokhov once again emphasizes that Daria lived only for herself.
Even the death of her husband saddened her for a short time; she quickly recovered. Obviously, Daria did not have deep feelings for Peter, she just got used to him.
I feel sorry for her. Daria is alien to the Melekhov family. She paid dearly for her frivolity. Poor thing! Afraid of waiting for the inevitable, lost from loneliness, Daria decided to commit suicide. And before merging with the waters of the Don, she shouted not to anyone, but to women, since only they could understand her: “Goodbye, little women!”
Not long before this, Natalya also passed away. After their death, Aksinya became close to Gregory's mother. And this is natural. It is a pity that the feelings that united these two women arose so late, literally one step before the death that awaited each of them. If this had happened earlier, perhaps they would have influenced Gregory, they would have been able to do together what each of them could not do separately.
Aksinya and Natalya died, thereby punishing the top of the triangle, leaving Gregory at a crossroads.
Perhaps M. Sholokhov spoke with bitterness about the fate of women. But try to portray it better - it won’t work! Reality is only real if it is true, otherwise it is not reality, but only a parody of it.

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