In Golyavkin there is an incident with an angry dog. Victor Golyavkin

Golyavkin Viktor Vladimirovich.

Novels and stories

OUR CONVERSATIONS WITH VOVKA

About me and about Vovka

I live with my dad, mom and sister Katya. IN big house near the school. Vovka still lives in our house. I'm six and a half years old and I don't go to school yet. And Vovka goes to second grade. We are very great friends, only he loves to tease. For example, he drew a picture: a house, the sun, a tree and a cow. And he says that he drew me, although everyone will say that I am not there. And he says: “You are here, you hid behind a tree.” Or something else like that.

One day he asks me:

You know?

I answer him:

Don't know.

“Oh, you,” he says, “don’t know!”

How can I know?

And I know there are stars in the sky.

I know that too.

Why didn't you tell me right away? - And he laughs. “When you go to school, you’ll know everything.”

I thought a little, then I said:

You know?

Eh, you, I say, don’t know!

What don't I know?

That I'm standing next to you. And also a schoolboy!

Vovka was immediately offended.

“We’re friends,” he says, “but you’re teasing.”

It was you, I say, and not me who was teasing.

Since then, Vovka began to tease less. Because I imitated him. But still, sometimes he forgot and began to tease again. And all because he goes to school, but I can’t go to school.

About how I decided to go to school

This is what happened to me last year...

Vovka had a way of remembering. If Vovka wanted to remember something, he sang out loud. I also remembered how Vovka sang the letters: “A-a-a-a bvgd-uh-uh...”

I walk and sing at the top of my lungs. Everything turned out just like Vovka’s. Only Katya really bothered me. She followed me and sang too. She is only five years old, but she climbs everywhere. He sticks his nose into everything. She has an obnoxious character. No one can rest from her. She caused a lot of trouble: she broke a decanter, three plates, two cups and a jar of jam. I locked myself in the bathroom to sing the letters. And she knocks on the door and cries. And what does a person need! Why does she need to sing with me? Unclear. It’s good that mom took her away, otherwise I would have mixed up the letters. And so I remembered everything perfectly.

I came to Vovkin’s class and sat down at my desk. Some boy started chasing me, but I grabbed the desk and didn’t leave. He had to sit at another desk.

The teacher noticed me immediately. He asked:

Where are you from, boy?

“I’m nine years old,” I lied.

“It doesn’t look like it,” said the teacher.

“I came myself,” I said, “I can sing the letters.”

What letters?

Are there any other letters?

Of course have. - And shows me the book.

Oh, and there are a lot of letters! I was even scared.

I can’t do this much, I’m still small...

Did you think you were already big?

I didn't think I was so small. I'm as tall as Vovka.

Who is Vovka?

“He’s sitting there,” I said. - We competed with him...

He's lying! - Vovka shouted. - I am higher!

Everyone laughed. The teacher said:

I believe you both. Moreover, you measured yourself. But you don’t know all the letters.

That's right, I said. - But I will learn them.

When you learn, come back. And now it's too early.

Definitely, I say, I’ll come. Goodbye.

Goodbye, says the teacher.

Here's how it all turned out!

I thought Vovka would tease me.

But Vovka did not tease. He said:

Do not be sad. You only have to wait two years. It's quite a bit of a wait. Others have to wait much longer. My brother has to wait five years.

I'm not sad...

Why grieve!..

There’s no point in grieving,” I said. - I'm not grieving...

In fact, I was grieving. But I didn't show it.

“I have an extra primer,” said Vovka. - My dad bought me one primer, and my mom bought the other. Do you want me to give you an ABC book?

I wanted to give him a guards ribbon in return. He's been asking me for this tape for a long time. But he didn’t take the tape.

“I won’t take the tape for the primer,” he says. Study, please. I do not mind.

Then just like that,” I say, “take the tape.”

It's just possible.

“I would give you my dream,” I say. - But sleep cannot be given. You know, do not you.

The fact is that Vovka always dreams of roosters. And I don’t dream of anything else. He told me about it himself. And I have different dreams. As I climbed the mountains, oh, how difficult it was! I even woke up. How I stood as a goalkeeper. Caught a hundred balls.

And I don’t care... - Vovka sighed. - So boring!

And you drive them away.

How to drive them away? After all, they are in a dream...

Drive anyway.

I really wanted to help him. So that he dreams of normal dreams, and not some kind of roosters. But what could I do! I would gladly give him my dream!

About one and two

Today Vovka came home from school angry. Doesn't want to talk to anyone. I immediately understood what was going on. I probably got a two. Every evening he plays in the yard, and then suddenly he sits at home. Probably his mother didn’t let him in. It happened once already. He then brought one. And why do people grab deuces? Yes, only a few. It's like you can't do without them. Ignorant, as my dad says. I will certainly be conscious. After all, bad grades bring grief to everyone - both dad and mom... Maybe it’s difficult to study at school? Look how Vovka suffers from this. He sits at home and is not allowed into the yard. It's hard to study at school. What if it will be difficult for me to study? Mom will scold me, put me in a corner, and won’t let me go into the yard to play with the kids. What kind of life will it be? I need to talk to Vovka. Find out everything about school from him. Otherwise it will be too late. I will start going to school myself. It's better to find out everything now. Maybe we should just pick it up and leave? Somewhere to the ends of the world?

In the evening I asked my dad why Vovka grabs a deuce.

“He’s just a quitter,” Dad answered. - He's unconscious. The state teaches him for free. Teachers spend time on it. Schools were built for him. And he. know that it brings you deuces...

So that's Vovka! He's a quitter. I couldn’t even imagine how this was possible! After all, they even built a school for him. I couldn't understand this. For me, if a school were built... yes, I would... I would study all the time. I simply wouldn't leave school.

I met Vovka the next day. He was walking from school.

Got five! - he shouted joyfully.

“You’re lying,” I said.

Am I lying?!

Because you're a quitter!

What are you doing?! - Vovka was surprised.

You're a quitter, that's all. That's what my dad said. It's clear? Vovka hit me on the nose with all his might, then pushed me

me, and I fell into a puddle.

Received? - he shouted. - You'll get more!

And you will receive it!

Look what! Doesn't go to school yet!

And you're a quitter!

Uncle Vitya came up to us. Uncle Vitya is a pilot. We all love him very much. He took us on a plane ride.

Peace,” said Uncle Vitya, “immediately!”

I didn't want to put up at all. First of all, the nose

I was terribly ill, and secondly, since Vovka is a quitter... But Uncle Vitya forced him. I had to make peace.

Uncle Vitya took us outside and bought us ice cream.

We ate the ice cream in silence. Vovka took money out of his pocket and suggested:

I have money here... Shall we buy more?

We bought a glass of ice cream and ate it in half.

Want more? - I asked.

I want to,” said Vovka.

I ran home, took money from my mother, and we bought another glass.

Vovka and I became friends again. It was as if they had never quarreled. It turned out that he was not a quitter at all. He got a bad grade by accident. This may well happen to everyone. Here's how it was: he solved the problem. I wanted to put a full stop, and suddenly there was a blot - bam! He tried to remove it with a blotter, but it fell apart. It’s not Vovka’s fault - it’s all a damn blot. If it weren't for the blot, he would have gotten five. And he received one by accident. Here's how it happened: he looked out the window at some bird and forgot that he was in class. And he began to talk to this bird. At this time he was called to the board so that he could repeat what had just been explained. But he couldn’t repeat anything. It's all the bird's fault. And Vovka has nothing to do with it. This is clear to everyone.

About Vovka’s physical education

In physical education, Vovka is fourth in a row. That is, he is in fourth place. They allocated places for themselves there. He is first in the class in high jump. And in all physical education - fourth. He can't walk on a log. This is probably very difficult. They have such a log in the hall. They walk on a log there. And Vovka falls. He has no balance. “I,” he says, “didn’t train, that’s why I fall off the log. And I jump well. Because I'm experienced. I train every day."

Viktor Vladimirovich Golyavkin was born on August 31, 1929 in Baku. IN early childhood Victor showed an ability and passion for drawing. He painted the walls not only in the apartment, but also in the city of Baku.

When he was 12 years old, the war began, his father went to the front. Victor drew caricatures of the Nazis and Hitler.

After the war, Viktor Golyavkin, against the wishes of his parents, chose painting and graduated art school in Stalinabad, and later the Institute of Painting, Sculpture and Architecture. I. E. Repin in Leningrad. But the artist also has a desire to write stories for children, which he himself designs. In 1959, his first book, “Notebooks in the Rain,” was published, and then a number of others: “You come to us, come,” “It’s a boy,” “My good dad” (1964); “Drawings on Asphalt” (1965).

Viktor Golyavkin died in 2001.

Victor Golyavkin. Complete miracles

Here is how it was. First I started to unbend the nail in the kitchen on the tile floor. But he didn’t straighten up. I hit it with the hammer as hard as I could, and three tiles shattered. I fiddled with the nail for a whole hour. I felt hungry. I put the potatoes on the stove to cook and discovered that a nail was missing. I ran to the construction site and brought five tiles and cement. I set to work, but no matter how hard I tried, my tiles could not fit flush with the others. Two sank very deeply, and one towered above all. I hit two tiles with a hammer and they shattered. I inserted spare ones in their place, but they towered above the others, and I did not dare to hit them with a hammer. He began to clean the floor with a knife, after which he discovered that even now they were falling through. I smeared them thickly with cement, but now they rose again, no matter how much I pressed them. I hit them with a hammer and they shattered.

All that was left was to go get new ones. I asked for ten tiles, but I couldn't get them to line up with the others. I hit them with a hammer and they shattered.

Cement flew through the air. I coughed and sneezed. I swept the floor and discovered that the floor was now missing six tiles, not three as before.

I remembered the potatoes, but they turned into coals. No tiles, no potatoes, no nails...

I looked into the pan and found a nail there. Complete miracles!

I began to unbend it on the tiles again and crumbled two more tiles. But the nail bent.

I hammered it into the wall and finally hung up Shishkin’s painting “Morning in a Pine Forest.”

I jumped up on a chair and began to angrily hammer a nail into the wall so that the spirit would no longer exist, never see him again! But he twisted and buckled in every possible way, and I just couldn’t hit him properly. I adjusted it with pliers and hammered it in. I hammered it in and tweaked it. I fought with a nail. There was a knock on the door. I opened.

“Stop hitting the wall,” the neighbor said indignantly, “what are you doing there?”

“Nothing...” I said, breathing heavily.

- Stop it immediately.

- No, I'll show him!

- A nail.

- And what happened to him?

- It bends. He bends all the time. I'll kill him!

“Shameless boy,” the neighbor was indignant, switching to “you,” “if you need a nail, then tell me.”

She immediately brought out a handful of nails. Brand new. How could I not have thought to ask her right away!

- Here, take any nail. And leave him alone.

“I have no reason to be angry with this nail, but I will settle accounts with that nail.”

“Where has it been seen that people settle accounts with nails?” - said the neighbor.

- Anyway, now I have nothing to hang on your nail...

- Well, look at me!

She left.

And I lay down on the bed and covered my head with a blanket.

I felt sorry for the tiles.

I hated the nail.

I didn't feel like eating. After all, it was my fault.

And I fell asleep.

In my sleep I dreamed of nails that drive themselves into the wall, potatoes that never burn, and tiles that cannot be broken by anything.

Complete miracles!

In the dream everything was good, but in reality everything was bad... Yes, I don’t know how to do much... I didn’t know myself...

Victor Golyavkin. Two gifts

On his birthday, dad gave Alyosha a pen with a gold feather. The golden words were engraved on the handle: “On Alyosha’s birthday from dad.”

The next day Alyosha and his new pen went to school. He was very proud: after all, not everyone in the class has a pen with a gold nib and gold letters! And then the teacher forgot her pen at home and asked the kids to borrow it. And Alyosha was the first to hand her his treasure. And at the same time I thought: “Maria Nikolaevna will definitely notice what a wonderful pen I have, read the inscription and say something like: “Oh, what a beautiful handwriting it is written!” or: “How lovely!” Then Alyosha will say: “And you look at golden feather“Maria Nikolaevna, real gold!”

But the teacher did not look at the pen and did not say anything like that. She asked Alyosha for a lesson, but he didn’t learn it. And then Maria Nikolaevna wrote a two in the journal with a gold pen and returned the pen.

Alyosha, looking at his golden pen in confusion, said:

- How does this happen?.. This is how it happens!..

- What are you talking about, Alyosha? - the teacher did not understand.

“About the golden feather...” said Alyosha. - Is it possible to give deuces with a golden pen?

“So today you don’t have golden knowledge,” said the teacher.

- So, dad gave me a pen so that they could give me two grades? - said Alyosha. - That's the number! What kind of gift is this? The teacher smiled and said:

“Dad gave you a pen, but today’s gift you gave yourself.”

Victor Golyavkin. Real friendship

Andryushka had many friends in the yard. Some even went to school, but he had never had such a little friend before.

This new friend Vadik knew a few words and most spent time sleeping in a stroller. And yet he was a true friend.

When he saw Andryusha, he shouted from afar:

He handed everything he had in his hands to his friend and said:

And one day, when she barked at Andryusha big dog, Vadik cried so loudly that the dog tucked its tail and fell silent.

But Andryusha, like a friend, led the baby by the hand, and thanks to this, Vadik quickly learned to walk on his own. After all, Andryusha himself at one time

I didn’t immediately learn to walk on my own and probably remembered it.

And when Vadik’s mother was away, he always made sure that his friend did not fall out of the stroller, and Vadik, well understanding this, extended his hands to him and said:

Andryusha often gave him one of his toys, and Vadik joyfully shouted:

Now Andryusha already goes to school and, they say, does not sit very quietly at his desk, and Vadik runs around with all his might and does not want to sit in a stroller for a minute.

And they are still friends.

Victor Golyavkin. Five Christmas trees

First, we bought two Christmas trees at once: one tree for dad, the other for mom. Then Uncle Misha came with a Christmas tree. Uncle Misha said:

- Oh, what a shame!

“We don’t need three trees,” said dad.

“God loves a trinity,” said the grandmother.

“There is no God,” I said.

“Mismanagement,” said my mother.

Just when mom said this, grandpa suddenly comes in with a Christmas tree. And behind him is Aunt Nyusha with a Christmas tree.

“Hurray,” I shouted, “five trees!”

“I’m upset,” says Aunt Nyusha. - I wanted to surprise you, but there are so many Christmas trees here!

“What should we do,” says mom, “where are we going to put these Christmas trees?” I'll have to offer them to my neighbors.

“How is it so,” says Uncle Misha. — I brought the Christmas tree to Petya. And suddenly they give it to the neighbors!

“I’m very offended,” says the grandfather. — I brought a Christmas tree to my grandson. And I don’t understand what the neighbors have to do with it!

- And I! - said Aunt Nyusha. - I won’t give my Christmas tree to my neighbors! I brought my Christmas tree to my nephew. Let him say: is he happy with the tree?

- Of course, I’m happy! - I shouted.

Aunt Nyusha said:

- Well! Just try it! The Christmas tree is his.

Dad said:

- But I bought my Christmas tree first. I spent two hours choosing it. I bought a Christmas tree for my son. I don't want to hear about it!

“Especially me,” said my mother. “Besides, my tree is the best of all, I think that’s immediately obvious.”

Aunt Nyusha said:

- My Christmas tree is better! Just smell how it smells!

And Uncle Misha swung his Christmas tree so that he hit his grandfather on the nose with a branch.

Grandma laughed quietly in the corner.

Finally everyone got tired of arguing. Uncle Misha said:

- I think so. Let Petya express his opinion. After all, these trees are his.

I said that I like all five trees.

- That's fine! - said Uncle Misha. — Petina’s Christmas trees. He's happy. So what’s the matter, I don’t understand!

Everyone agreed with Uncle Misha and began installing the Christmas trees. Although it was not so easy to do, the trees were eventually installed. Then they started hanging up the toys. True, there were few toys, but I was still very pleased - five Christmas trees all together in one apartment.

This is a whole forest!

Then Vovka came to look at the Christmas trees.

Then Alka came from apartment five.

Then Lyonka and Vaska came.

I gave each one a Christmas tree.

And I only have one Christmas tree left.

I kept walking around her and admiring her for a long time, and then suddenly I imagined how empty it had become in that place in the forest where five fir trees grew. They were cut down especially for me...

On next year I will grow up big, and then I won’t need a single Christmas tree. Although now I am no longer a child...

Victor Golyavkin. Laugh and think

I often write funny stories. Naturally, laughter is needed here to make children laugh.

One day I was reading at school. I chose the funniest stories, as it seemed to me. I wanted there to be as much laughter as possible so that everyone would have fun.

The children generally laughed, but not all of them. Some people didn't laugh. This bothered me.

I addressed them with a speech: “Dear guys, someone here didn’t laugh. So here it is. I will write specifically for them. I'll work in full force. I'll read it another time. So that the laughter is friendly, and not some kind of separate one. So that everyone can have fun." “Well, we’ll see,” said one boy, “we’ll see.”

He was the one who laughed the least. It was as if he didn't believe me. I shook the outstretched hand and said, “Well, we’ll see. I'll shake you up. You will laugh too!” - "You think so? - he said. - Well, let's come again. I will be waiting for you with interest." I even liked him somehow. With his kind of iron equanimity and simplicity in dealing with people. Although I was a little upset. Difficult listener caught. But at the same time, such a person seems to advise you to think about it, reconsider your work, write sharper, funnier.

I wrote more stories, trying to make them as funny as possible. I went to this school again and, slightly worried, began to read. My anxiety is understandable. I immediately saw this boy, I don’t remember in which row. It seemed to me that the guys laughed more than last time, but he, this boy, didn’t even blink an eye. He somehow leaned forward, looked at me and squeezed his mouth. I only saw him. Moreover, there was an agreement.

I had a hard time finishing it. He approached me with his hands in his pockets. He had a surprisingly pleased face, but his mouth was also compressed. You couldn't say that he was smiling, but it was noticeable that he was pleased. I was so dissatisfied that there was nothing to say. “Well, how?” - he asked. “Wasn’t there anything funny there?” - I asked. “It was,” he said. "So what's the deal?" “It’s all a matter of will,” he said. I didn't understand him. Then he quite calmly explained to me that he cultivates the will in himself, and compresses his mouth, and looks forward without blinking when he is funny. By this he strengthens his body, his will, in his opinion. "But why?" - I asked. “To fly into space,” he answered quite seriously.

His answer made a rare impression on me. To be honest, I couldn’t even answer him right away; I didn’t expect this. I remembered our smiling cosmonauts and was simply confused. “What about Gagarin?” - I asked. He opened his mouth in surprise, then said: “I didn’t think about that.”

After this answer everyone laughed. The boy himself laughed. The smiling, cheerful first cosmonaut in the world, whose smile is known throughout the world - and this boy with a compressed mouth and bulging eyes.

It was funny. For real.

Wonderful laughter from the whole school, friendly, cheerful, healthy, first-class, brilliant, just what we need!

That’s how we would always laugh in unison at arrogance, stupidity, absurdity, nonsense, sloppiness, dishonesty, cowardice, meanness, lies, restlessness, dishonesty, inattention, frivolity, thoughtlessness, poor quality, inability!

Stories by Viktor Golyavkin about school, about schoolchildren, about funny and interesting incidents with children.

Victor Golyavkin. How I celebrated the New Year

New Year He came at twelve o'clock, and by that time I was always already asleep. So many New Years have passed! But I haven't seen a single one. Both mom and Aunt Vera met him, and I slept. I always fell asleep before the New Year. And I woke up in the morning, and my mother gave me gifts and said: “Well, New Year!” But I knew that he was there at night. And now he's gone.

I asked my mother:

-Have you met him?

Mom told me:

- I met you.

- And did you see him?

Mom laughed.

- Of course I saw it!

“And dad saw it, and Aunt Vera?”

I was so offended!

I imagined the New Year wearing a large earflap hat and felt boots. How on New Year's card. At twelve o'clock he knocks on the door. And everyone greets him. Everyone hugs him, pats him on the shoulder for the New Year and says: “It’s finally arrived!” He pulls gifts out of the bag, gives everything to whoever needs what, and says: “I’m in a hurry. They are waiting for me in other apartments.” Everyone accompanies him to the corner, then returns and goes to bed. This is how I imagined the New Year.

How hard I tried not to fall asleep on New Year's Day! And every time I fell asleep anywhere. And he always woke up in bed. And there were gifts nearby.

My brother celebrated the New Year before me. Despite the fact that he is younger than me. This is what he did. To avoid falling asleep, he crawled under the table. At first, of course, he fell asleep there, and when everyone sat down at the table, it became noisy. And he instantly woke up. And do you know what he told me? He told me:

- He was absent.

- How did it not happen?! - I said.

- Very simple.

“Didn’t you sleep under the table there?” - I asked.

- Here's another! - says Kotka. — The clock struck, that’s true. And there was no New Year. As soon as everyone started shouting: “Happy New Year!” - I got out.

-Who did you meet then?

“New Year,” says Kotka.

- How did you meet him? Does this happen in life? If you, for example, meet me, then you see that you are meeting me. How can you meet me if you don’t meet me?

“You’ll see for yourself,” says Kotka. - On next year you'll see. There will be no New Year there. The clock will strike. And there will be no New Year.

“You were probably sleeping under the table,” I say, “and in your sleep you heard the clock striking.” But I didn’t see the New Year.

“So I was asleep,” I say, “since I didn’t see you.”

“You were asleep yourself,” says Kotka.

“I was sleeping,” I say, “but you were sleeping too.” Only I was sleeping in the bed, and you were under the table. It would be better if you slept in bed.

“I didn’t sleep,” says Kotka.

- Why didn’t you see him then?

“He wasn’t there,” says Kotka.

“You were just sleeping,” I say, “that’s all!”

This is where our argument ended. He got offended and left. And although he was offended by me, I still thought that he slept there and did not see the New Year with gifts.

This is how I imagined the New Year when I was very little.

Victor Golyavkin. Steamboat and horse

When I went to school, in first grade, I loved to draw steamboats. I boasted to everyone: these are the wonderful steamboats I can draw!

And then one day I asked a boy if he could draw such a wonderful steamship. I immediately drew big steamer with pipes, everything is as it should be. Then I drew the sea with a blue pencil, and the flag on the mast with a red pencil, and it turned out really well: a steamer is sailing on the sea, and a red flag flutters on its mast.

The boy liked my ship, but he told me:

— I can draw a horse. And he drew a horse. This horse was so well drawn that I no longer boasted about my steamers, because I could never draw such a horse!

Victor Golyavkin. Chatterboxes

Senya and his neighbor at the desk did not notice how the teacher entered. Senya drew himself on his palm and showed it to his neighbor.

“It’s me,” he said. - It seems?

“Not at all,” Yura answered, “your ears are not like that.”

- What kind of ears do I have?

- Like a donkey.

“And your nose is like a hippopotamus.”

- And your head is like a fir cone.

- And your head is like a bucket.

- And you don’t have a tooth in your mouth...

- And you are red.

- And you are a herring.

- And you are a veil-tail.

- And what is it?

- Veiltail - that's all.

- And you are a perverder...

- What does this mean?

- It means that you are a perverder.

- And you are a hole-in-the-wall.

- And you screwed up.

- And you rrrrrrr...

- And you zzzzzzz...

- And you... s! - Yura said and saw the teacher nearby.

“I would like to know,” asked the teacher, “who exactly are you?”

Victor Golyavkin. How we flew on a plane

We arrive at the airfield. The chief pilots invited us. Our entire class fit on one plane. Just a house, not a plane! If you want, sit, if you want, stand, do whatever you want! Valerka began to sing. Only when the plane buzzed did he suddenly stop singing for some reason.

— Are we flying already? - asks. - Or not?

Someone will shout:

- We're flying! Let's fly!

“I’m afraid,” says Valerka. - Why didn’t I go to the cinema? - And his teeth chatter.

I tell him:

- This happens out of habit.

—Have you flown before? - asks Valerka.

— I went on a boat. And this is almost the same thing. My father and I were fishing from a boat.

Suddenly a pilot comes out to us. Smiles and asks:

- Well, how?

Valerka screams:

- Oh, get behind the wheel! The plane will fall! - And he cried.

The pilot laughs:

- Don't worry. There is also a pilot there.

Valerka stopped crying.

- Oh, you crybaby! - says the pilot. - The girls are looking at you.

Katya heard and said:

“We don’t look at him at all.” We are looking out the window.

And the pilot is not far behind:

“They don’t even want to look at you; oh you coward!

Mishka Kolosov says:

— Weird Valerka. At first he sang, and then he became afraid.

Lenka Skorikov says:

“He probably sang out of fear.”

Then the plane began to descend.

We got off the plane.

“Eh,” says Valerka, “it would be nice to ride some more.”

“That’s great,” the pilot smiles, “now we’ll ride a helicopter.”

I turned around - no Valerka.

- Where is Valerka? - the guys ask.

He probably went to the cinema!..

Victor Golyavkin. In any business you need to be able to work

A boxing section has opened at our school. The bravest ones were enrolled there. Promising. I immediately went to sign up because I had been showing hope for a long time. That's what all the guys thought. After I wanted to hit Mishka and missed. And he hit the wall with his fist. And he knocked off a piece of plaster. Everyone was surprised then. “Here it is!” - They say. - What a blow! I kept walking around with a swollen hand and showing everyone: “See? What a blow I have! The hand can't stand it. Otherwise I probably would have broken through the wall!” - “Through it?” — the guys were surprised.

Since then, the glory of the strongest has followed me. Even after the hand has passed. And there was nothing to show.

And so I came first to the section. And I signed up. And more guys came. And Mishka signed up too.

Classes have started.

I thought they would immediately put gloves on us and fight each other. I'll give everyone a knockout. Everyone will say: “What a boxer!” And the coach will say: “Hey, you’ll be a champion!” You need to eat more chocolate. We will ask the state to feed you for free. Chocolate and various sweets. Once such a rare talent has appeared.”

But the coach didn’t give me gloves. He lined us up according to height. He said: “Boxing is a serious matter. Let everyone think about it. And if any of you thinks differently, that is, that boxing is not a serious matter, let him calmly leave the gym.”

No one left the hall. We lined up in pairs. It was as if they had come not to boxing, but to a physical education lesson. Then they practiced two strikes. They waved their hands through the air. Sometimes the coach stopped us. He said we were doing it wrong. And it started all over again. One day the coach said to someone:

- Over there, in those wide pants, what are you doing?

I didn’t think it was for me at all, but the coach came up to me and said that I hit with my left hand instead of my right, while everyone else only hits with their right, and couldn’t I really be more careful.

I was offended and didn’t come again. I really need, I thought, to do something stupid. With my blow! When I can break through the wall. I really need all this! Let Mishka do it there. And others. And I will come when they fight. When they put on gloves. And then we'll see. I really need to just wave my arms! This is downright funny.

I stopped going to the section.

Only Mishka asked:

- What is it like? Are you still waving your hands?

I kept laughing at Mishka. Teased him. And he kept asking:

- Well, what's it like?

But Mishka was silent. Sometimes he said:

- Not at all.

One day he tells me:

- Tomorrow is sparring.

- What? - I say.

“Come,” he says, “you’ll see for yourself.” Sparring is a training fight. In general, we will fight. That is, work. In our opinion, so.

“Well, work, work,” I say. - I’ll come to you tomorrow and we’ll work.

I go to the section the next day.

The coach asks:

- Where are you from?

“I am,” I say, “recorded here.”

- Oh, that's it!

- I want to spar.

- Well! - said the coach.

- Well, yes! - I said.

“Everything is clear,” says the coach.

He put gloves on me. And Mishke put on gloves.

“You’re too militant,” he said.

I said:

- Is it bad?

“Okay,” he said. - Very much.

Mishka and I entered the ring.

I swung and hit! But by. I swung it a second time and fell myself. So, I missed again.

I look at the coach. And the coach says:

- Work work!

I stood up and swung again, when suddenly Mishka hit me! I wanted to hit him too, but he fucked me in the nose!

I even gave up. And I don’t understand what’s the matter.

And the coach says:

- Work work!

Mishka says to the coach:

“I’m not interested in working with him.”

I got angry, rushed at Mishka and fell again. Either he stumbled or was hit.

“No,” says Mishka, “I won’t work with him.” He falls all the time.

I speak:

“I don’t fall all the time.” I'll give it to him now!

And he’ll punch me in the nose again!

And I sat down on the floor again.

And Mishka is already taking off his gloves. And says:

- No, it’s just funny for me to work with him. He can't work at all.

I speak:

- There’s nothing funny... I’ll get up now...

“As you wish,” says Mishka, “you don’t have to get up, it doesn’t matter at all.”

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Biography, life story of Viktor Vladimirovich Golyavkin

Viktor Vladimirovich Golyavkin − Soviet writer and an artist who declared himself very brightly in the second half of the 20th century.

Childhood

Victor was born in Baku on August 31, 1929, into the family of Vladimir Sergeevich Golyavkin, who worked as a music teacher. No wonder the boy, along with his two younger brothers received primary musical education on best examples world musical classics. Parents prepared their sons for a musical career.

Nevertheless, when Victor once drew expressive caricatures of guests who came to play music at their house, his father gave him a book about painting. Since then, Victor tried to read all the books about artists and fine arts, and also constantly painted himself.

Boyhood

Victor turned twelve when Nazi Germany attacked the USSR. His father went to the front, and the teenager remained the eldest man in the family. He drew caricatures of the Nazis and Schicklgruber.

Years of youth

After the war, Victor entered an art school located in Samarkand, and then transferred first to Tashkent, and later to Dushanbe.

Having graduated from college and absorbed expressive examples of the art of the East, young artist continued his education in Leningrad, entering the Academy of Arts. The city on the Neva made a huge impression on the young man with its wonderful Western European architecture and abundance worldwide famous museums and art galleries.

Literary activity

Soon after graduating from the Academy of Arts, Golyavkin discovered his literary gift. He began to write short stories, which, although they did not fit into the official style of the then Soviet literature, however, were well received by children.

His stories for children were published in the magazines “Murzilka” and “Koster”, and their number constantly increased. In 1959, the first collection of stories by the aspiring writer for children and youth, entitled “Notebooks in the Rain,” was published.

CONTINUED BELOW


Marietta Omarovna Chudakova, who was one of the recognized literary critics, noted that prose intended for children was in those years in the USSR in a specific “ecological niche” that was not in any way affected by socialist realism. Thanks to this, it was in Russian children's literature that at that time it was possible to write sincerely, honestly, without any falsehood, as Viktor Golyavkin did.

Maturity

Although literature intended for adults still could not break through the mass of bureaucratic and ideological barriers to the mass reader, the stories of Viktor Vladimirovich Golyavkin began to be widely distributed in samizdat. The famous dissident Alexander Ilyich Ginzburg published some of them in his journal Syntax in 1960. One of these stories, which was called “Anniversary Speech” and was “accidentally” published in the humor section of the Leningrad magazine “Aurora” in No. 12 for 1981, almost cost its author his freedom.

The fact was that in December 1981 the USSR was preparing to celebrate its 75th anniversary Secretary General CPSU, whose position he held at that time. Viktor Vladimirovich Golyavkin in his “Anniversary Speech,” without at all thinking about possible political analogies, subtly ironized about speeches on glorious dates and in honor of high-ranking birthday people. Democratic literary circles Both capitals immediately equated the appearance of this story in terms of its impact on the enlightened reader to “Aurora’s second salvo.” The authorities immediately took retaliatory measures by withdrawing the issue of the magazine from sale and dismissing the executive secretary and editor-in-chief, and Viktor Vladimirovich in all official publications on long years the red light was on.

Old age

After the formation of capitalism, many of the works of Viktor Vladimirovich Golyavkin, written by him in early years literary creativity. In 2000, a book by the writer entitled “ Familiar face" Although its cover contained one of the author’s drawings, called “Children Build on Sand,” nevertheless, this book was addressed to an adult audience. It received very positive reviews.

Viktor Vladimirovich Golyavkin died on July 24, 2001 and was buried in the cemetery of the village of Komarovo.

Golyavkin Viktor Vladimirovich.

Novels and stories

OUR CONVERSATIONS WITH VOVKA

About me and about Vovka

I live with my dad, mom and sister Katya. In a big house next to the school. Vovka still lives in our house. I'm six and a half years old and I don't go to school yet. And Vovka goes to second grade. We are very good friends, but he loves to tease. For example, he drew a picture: a house, the sun, a tree and a cow. And he says that he drew me, although everyone will say that I am not there. And he says: “You are here, you hid behind a tree.” Or something else like that.

One day he asks me:

You know?

I answer him:

Don't know.

“Oh, you,” he says, “don’t know!”

How can I know?

And I know there are stars in the sky.

I know that too.

Why didn't you tell me right away? - And he laughs. “When you go to school, you’ll know everything.”

I thought a little, then I said:

You know?

Eh, you, I say, don’t know!

What don't I know?

That I'm standing next to you. And also a schoolboy!

Vovka was immediately offended.

“We’re friends,” he says, “but you’re teasing.”

It was you, I say, and not me who was teasing.

Since then, Vovka began to tease less. Because I imitated him. But still, sometimes he forgot and began to tease again. And all because he goes to school, but I can’t go to school.

About how I decided to go to school

This is what happened to me last year...

Vovka had a way of remembering. If Vovka wanted to remember something, he sang out loud. I also remembered how Vovka sang the letters: “A-a-a-a bvgd-uh-uh...”

I walk and sing at the top of my lungs. Everything turned out just like Vovka’s. Only Katya really bothered me. She followed me and sang too. She is only five years old, but she climbs everywhere. He sticks his nose into everything. She has an obnoxious character. No one can rest from her. She caused a lot of trouble: she broke a decanter, three plates, two cups and a jar of jam. I locked myself in the bathroom to sing the letters. And she knocks on the door and cries. And what does a person need! Why does she need to sing with me? Unclear. It’s good that mom took her away, otherwise I would have mixed up the letters. And so I remembered everything perfectly.

I came to Vovkin’s class and sat down at my desk. Some boy started chasing me, but I grabbed the desk and didn’t leave. He had to sit at another desk.

The teacher noticed me immediately. He asked:

Where are you from, boy?

“I’m nine years old,” I lied.

“It doesn’t look like it,” said the teacher.

“I came myself,” I said, “I can sing the letters.”

What letters?

Are there any other letters?

Of course have. - And shows me the book.

Oh, and there are a lot of letters! I was even scared.

I can’t do this much, I’m still small...

Did you think you were already big?

I didn't think I was so small. I'm as tall as Vovka.

Who is Vovka?

“He’s sitting there,” I said. - We competed with him...

He's lying! - Vovka shouted. - I am higher!

Everyone laughed. The teacher said:

I believe you both. Moreover, you measured yourself. But you don’t know all the letters.

That's right, I said. - But I will learn them.

When you learn, come back. And now it's too early.

Definitely, I say, I’ll come. Goodbye.

Goodbye, says the teacher.

Here's how it all turned out!

I thought Vovka would tease me.

But Vovka did not tease. He said:

Do not be sad. You only have to wait two years. It's quite a bit of a wait. Others have to wait much longer. My brother has to wait five years.

I'm not sad...

Why grieve!..

There’s no point in grieving,” I said. - I'm not grieving...

In fact, I was grieving. But I didn't show it.

“I have an extra primer,” said Vovka. - My dad bought me one primer, and my mom bought the other. Do you want me to give you an ABC book?

I wanted to give him a guards ribbon in return. He's been asking me for this tape for a long time. But he didn’t take the tape.

“I won’t take the tape for the primer,” he says. Study, please. I do not mind.

Then just like that,” I say, “take the tape.”

It's just possible.

“I would give you my dream,” I say. - But sleep cannot be given. You know, do not you.

The fact is that Vovka always dreams of roosters. And I don’t dream of anything else. He told me about it himself. And I have different dreams. As I climbed the mountains, oh, how difficult it was! I even woke up. How I stood as a goalkeeper. Caught a hundred balls.

And I don’t care... - Vovka sighed. - So boring!

And you drive them away.

How to drive them away? After all, they are in a dream...

Drive anyway.

I really wanted to help him. So that he dreams of normal dreams, and not some kind of roosters. But what could I do! I would gladly give him my dream!

About one and two

Today Vovka came home from school angry. Doesn't want to talk to anyone. I immediately understood what was going on. I probably got a two. Every evening he plays in the yard, and then suddenly he sits at home. Probably his mother didn’t let him in. It happened once already. He then brought one. And why do people grab deuces? Yes, only a few. It's like you can't do without them. Ignorant, as my dad says. I will certainly be conscious. After all, bad grades bring grief to everyone - both dad and mom... Maybe it’s difficult to study at school? Look how Vovka suffers from this. He sits at home and is not allowed into the yard. It's hard to study at school. What if it will be difficult for me to study? Mom will scold me, put me in a corner, and won’t let me go into the yard to play with the kids. What kind of life will it be? I need to talk to Vovka. Find out everything about school from him. Otherwise it will be too late. I will start going to school myself. It's better to find out everything now. Maybe we should just pick it up and leave? Somewhere to the ends of the world?

In the evening I asked my dad why Vovka grabs a deuce.

“He’s just a quitter,” Dad answered. - He's unconscious. The state teaches him for free. Teachers spend time on it. Schools were built for him. And he. know that it brings you deuces...

So that's Vovka! He's a quitter. I couldn’t even imagine how this was possible! After all, they even built a school for him. I couldn't understand this. For me, if a school were built... yes, I would... I would study all the time. I simply wouldn't leave school.

I met Vovka the next day. He was walking from school.

Got five! - he shouted joyfully.

“You’re lying,” I said.

Am I lying?!

Because you're a quitter!

What are you doing?! - Vovka was surprised.

You're a quitter, that's all. That's what my dad said. It's clear? Vovka hit me on the nose with all his might, then pushed me

me, and I fell into a puddle.

Received? - he shouted. - You'll get more!

And you will receive it!

Look what! Doesn't go to school yet!

And you're a quitter!

Uncle Vitya came up to us. Uncle Vitya is a pilot. We all love him very much. He took us on a plane ride.

Peace,” said Uncle Vitya, “immediately!”

I didn't want to put up at all. First of all, the nose

I was terribly ill, and secondly, since Vovka is a quitter... But Uncle Vitya forced him. I had to make peace.

Uncle Vitya took us outside and bought us ice cream.

We ate the ice cream in silence. Vovka took money out of his pocket and suggested:

I have money here... Shall we buy more?

We bought a glass of ice cream and ate it in half.

Want more? - I asked.

I want to,” said Vovka.

I ran home, took money from my mother, and we bought another glass.