Last week, special forces veterans buried Berkut, their comrade in arms, in Chelyabinsk. Former commander of the 154th "Muslim" detachment special purpose Main intelligence agency General Staff of the Ministry of Defense Lieutenant Colonel Vladimir Portnyagin.
22 years of service in the Armed Forces, participation in special events of GRU reconnaissance and sabotage units in different points planets. He was seriously wounded and shell-shocked in Afghanistan. Awarded six state awards. Already in civilian life, Vladimir Portnyagin was accused on November 25, 2002 of organizing and committing an assassination attempt. Head of the security company "Magnum" Anton Maslennikova and sentenced to eight and a half years in a maximum security colony. The assassination attempt on Maslennikov took place on October 18, 2001, at the entrance of his house. The investigation and then the court named the organizer of the crime Deputy Head of the Economic Security Service of APO "Makfa" Vladimir Portnyagin, and the executor of his subordinate - Sergei Chesnokov. The case of a former "Afghan" and a veteran of the GRU special forces Vladimir Portnyagin unfolded against the backdrop of yet another confrontation between the first Deputy Governor of the region Andrey Kosilov And Deputy of the State Duma of the Russian Federation Mikhail Yurevich. The deputy’s opponents clearly tried to give him a political overtone, especially since at one time the victim Maslennikov was the bodyguard of another political figure - external manager of UralAZ Valery Panov. Journalists who covered the trial agreed that it was “hard for them to believe that a man who served for many years in the GRU special forces and knows the intelligence techniques to the finest detail could act so clumsily.” According to Portnyagin himself, he, being seriously ill, was forced to incriminate himself during the investigation. At the trial, Vladimir retracted his “confession.” However, it was precisely on this basis that the evidence base of the crime was based. The special forces veteran went to a colony for five long years, leaving only his minor daughter Svetlana free.
October 6, 2004 presidium Supreme Court Russia, led by its chairman Vyacheslav Lebedev, recognized the illegality of the court verdict against Vladimir Portnyagin. “In accordance with Articles 75, 302 and 307 of the Code of Criminal Procedure of the Russian Federation, a conviction cannot be based on assumptions,” the verdict of the Supreme Court given in this case hardly requires any special comments. The country's chief judge could not ignore Portnyagin's testimony "about the unbearable conditions of his detention in the temporary detention facility, the deterioration of his health in connection with this, the impossibility of obtaining the necessary medications and receiving them only after writing" sincere confession". Moreover, this was confirmed by objective data, including a long (more than two months) stay Vladimir Portnyagin during the preliminary investigation, he was treated in the surgical department of institution YAV-48/3 with intestinal bleeding and other diseases.
Freed, Vladimir Portnyagin, was immediately readmitted to the surgical hospital. On the third day, unexpectedly, in the midst of complete well-being, his daughter died, having managed to graduate from college without her father and find a job. The girl’s death occurred in an ambulance, but for some reason she was not examined, as required by law by members of the investigative team. For some reason, her body was sent to the pathology department of the emergency hospital. medical care, where she was not treated. Thus, a forensic medical examination of the body of Portnyagin’s daughter was also not carried out.
Vladimir Pavlovich bravely endured all the numerous blows of fate. Actively participated in public life countries and regions. He traveled a lot to the cities and garrisons of Russia. But the old soldier’s heart could not stand it. On April 1, Vladimir Pavlovich Portnyagin died. Most of all, he wanted his homeland to love him the same way he loved her. The memory of "Berkut" will forever remain in the memory of friends and associates. Eternal memory special forces hero.
CLASSIC ROSES
Music by Alexander Vertinsky
Words by Igor Severyanin
In those days when dreams swarmed
My beautiful, blue country.
The summers have passed and tears are flowing everywhere,
How beautiful, how fresh the roses were
Memories of the past day.
But the days go by, the thunderstorms have already subsided,
Return to the house Russia is looking for a path.
How beautiful, how fresh the roses will be,
My country has thrown me into a coffin!
From the repertoire of Alexander Vertinsky. Recorded on record - Parlofon company, Germany, 1930-1931, 79140.
Black eyes: An ancient Russian romance. – M.: Eksmo Publishing House, 2004.
From the site "Sad little children of A.N. Vertinsky"
The poem was written in 1925 in Estonia, inspired by Ivan Myatlev’s poem “Roses” (How beautiful, how fresh the roses were...,<1834>, there is a melodic recitation on it by B. Sadovskaya, 1910) and a prose poem by Ivan Turgenev “How good, how fresh the roses were...” (1879, there are melodic recitations by L. Lisovsky, 1890, A. Taskin, 1898, A. Arensky, 1904). Vertinsky's romance was created in 1930; its text is slightly different from Severyanin's original text.
Zhanna Bichevskaya performs this romance to the music of Gennady Ponomarev (circa 1990s), with Severyanin’s original text, changing only one word in the article. 7: sings "How beautiful, how fresh the roses were" instead of "How beautiful, how fresh the roses are today". See Zhanna Bichevskaya, album “Lyubo, brothers, lyubo...”, Zeko Records, 1996.
The phrase “How beautiful, how fresh the roses will be, thrown into my coffin by my country!” carved on Severyanin’s gravestone. He died at the end of 1941 in Tallinn from hunger.
Classic roses
Igor Severyanin
How beautiful, how beautiful the roses were
In my garden! How they seduced my gaze!
How I prayed for the spring frosts
Do not touch them with a cold hand!
Myatlev, 1843
In those times when dreams swarmed
In the hearts of people, transparent and clear,
How beautiful, how fresh the roses were
My love, and glory, and spring!
The summers have passed, and tears are flowing everywhere...
There is neither a country nor those who lived in the country.
How beautiful, how fresh the roses are today
Memories of the past day!
But as the days go by, the thunderstorms are already subsiding.
When I was a very young restorer, I often worked assembling exhibitions - gluing “feet” onto graphics and documents. And I was friends with the caretakers - they were bored and came to talk to me. Old ladies, and in my young opinion, simply ancient, they didn’t tell me anything! I should have written it down, I'm sorry. One, for example, fought in the same partisan detachment with Zoya Kosmodemyanskaya. And the other collected... mourning wreaths. Those that were laid at the Eternal Flame.
No, not the wreaths themselves, of course! But she passed by every day Eternal Flame, looked at it, remembered it, and then told it to me: what ribbons and flowers, from whom...
And I remembered this today while I was typing the protocol of the Restoration Council on the mourning wreaths stored in former museum V.I. Lenin, and now - in the stock department Historical Museum. Some kind of exhibition is being planned about the leaders, and here are the wreaths.
Such descriptions! Here, for example:
The composition of the wreath includes all kinds of details and parts of rapid-fire, automatic rifles, steam control valves, cartridges, triangular bayonets, ramrods. All these details are attached to stylized palm leaves cut out of roofing iron...
Or this one:
| Funeral wreath laid at the Mausoleum of V.I. Lenin and I.V. Stalin in 1953. From G.D. Antipov.
The wreath is a small plywood circle, framed around its circumference by woven wheat ears mixed with mogar ears. Woven into a wreath of ears black-red satin ribbon tied at the bottom with a bow. In the middle of the circle there is a text written in black paint: “To the great leaders V.I. Lenin and I.V. Stalin from the experienced Michurin-Lysenkov science G.D. Antipov. - 69 years old. Gus-Khrustalny town. November 1953." The wreath was made by G.D. Antipov. in Gus-Khrustalny. Workers from the Armature Plant helped him. The wreath was sent to Moscow by mail. A letter from G.D. Antipov was attached to the wreath. Mogar - this is what it is, it turns out: |
I especially like this one:
Above the star is attached a metal ribbon painted red with the inscription in black paint: “To the immortal leader T.I.V. Stalin."
A wreath on the coffin for the immortal!
Amazing
Igor Severyanin
CLASSIC ROSES
In my garden! How they seduced my gaze!
How I prayed for the spring frosts
Do not touch them with a cold hand!
1843 Myatlev
In those times when dreams swarmed
In the hearts of people, transparent and clear,
How beautiful, how fresh the roses were
My love, and glory, and spring!
The summers have passed, and tears are flowing everywhere...
There is neither a country nor those who lived in the country...
How beautiful, how fresh the roses were
Memories of the past day!
But the days go by - the thunderstorms have already subsided
In Russian literature there are original persons, of whom, however, there seems to be very little left - a home name, two or three lines. IN best case scenario- some couplet without reference to the author. Such is the fate of Ivan Myatlev. Or Ishki Myatlev, as his contemporaries called him.
- Don't woo ple pa -
Not Lisa pa.
From the poems of Ivan Myatlev
His most famous lines are heard in Turgenev’s prose poem from the “Senilia” cycle: “How beautiful, how fresh the roses were...”.
Turgenev either really forgot (out of senility), or pretended to forget (for the sake of his mood), that this is how Myatlev’s elegy “Roses” (1834) begins. Having rushed through the years, these fresh roses appeared to Igor Severyanin, already in a bitterly tragic context:
...How beautiful, how fresh the roses will be,
My country has thrown me into a coffin!
(“Classic Roses”, 1925).
They are also engraved in the epitaph on the Northerner’s grave in Tallinn.
In our time, ungrateful descendants, in defiance school Turgenev, made fun of: “How good, how fresh the faces were!” Which, however, would have pleased the soul of Ernik Myatlev.
Laugh at everything
A friend of Cricket, Asmodeus and Svetlana, a rich gentleman and cheerful versifier, a socialite, an aristocrat, a favorite of literary salons and people in power, he lived a not too long life (1796-1844), but full of events, including historical ones. And a completely prosperous life. Cornet of the Belarusian Hussar Regiment, he took part in the war with Napoleon. Demobilized due to illness. In the civil service he rose to the rank of active state councilor and chamberlain and retired in 1836. Having the means, he set off to travel around Europe. He returned to St. Petersburg, wrote about Mrs. Kurdyukova based on his travels, and published last volume poems - and died.
As one obituary said, “he placed ambition much lower than puns, considering the first amusement - to live honestly, nobly and first of all laugh harmlessly at everything, starting with himself - he ended funny book and with the last joke he threw away his pen and life together, as things that were henceforth unnecessary..."
His endless, excited-nervous wit - there is this type of people who are always witty, punning and rhyming! - would look painful if he were not so good-natured and (outwardly, at least) simple-minded. Although at times the Myatlevsky things could seem overly extravagant. So, at a ball where Nicholas the First himself was present, the cheerful poet cut up a bouquet of his neighbor, the Marquise de Traverse, very finely, dressed the salad with flowers and sent the dish to the adjutant of the heir, with whom the Marquise was in love. Or again: in one house the owner’s son fell in love with playing with Myatlev’s smart hat. The poet got tired of this, and, not wanting his wonderful hat to be confused with someone else’s, he wrote a poem inside it: “I am Ivan’s Myatlyova, not yours, you idiot. Look for yours first! Yours, I have tea, thinner cabbage soup". A bit rude, I must say...
The soul of literary salons, a magnificent reader and improviser, Myatlev, especially after a glass or two, strung rhymes masterfully. “...he simply spoke poetry, and always spoke by heart, spoke carefreely in verse, talked in verse; ... He spoke in these verses for hours at a time,” testifies a contemporary.
The provincials who arrived in St. Petersburg certainly wanted to get to Myatlev. He especially often performed in places where everyone knows each other and makes fun of each other so sweetly - that’s why almost all of his poems homemade. However social status The number of participants in these meetings was very high - it was a get-together of noble people. What gave - from a historical perspective - to album and home compositions a special charm and scope.
Russian criticism, unlike salon visitors, did not particularly favor Myatlev. Belinsky, who had just begun to come into his own, was simply irritated by this trick: the strict critic sensed in Myatlev’s poems the irresponsible gaiety of an aristocrat. Only “The Master’s Conversation with Afonka” received condescending praise from Belinsky; it is also, it is worth noting, quite frivolous.
For some time (shortly before his death) Myatlev published “Leaflet for secular people" For example, there was this picture. The young officer asks the lady: “Which ear is ringing?” - “On the left”, - the lady answers. "How do you know?"- the officer is amazed... Serious people were indignant at such vulgarity. (And to me, due to simple tastes, like.)
Epoch types
Myatlev affectionately called the ladies who inspired his poetry his "Parnassian stable". Among the “horses” were Sofya Karamzina, Natalya Pushkina and the femme fatale of Russian Parnassus - Alexandra Smirnova-Rosset. Myatlev had particularly warm, but extremely friendly relations with the latter.
She was a unique woman. Prince Vyazemsky, a great obscenity and a cynical wit with a caustic and caustic mind, admired: “Usually women have a poor understanding of flatness and vulgarity; she understood them and rejoiced at them, of course, when they were not flat and flat and not vulgar.” Moralist Ivan Aksakov, on the contrary, complained: “... I still haven’t seen in her the warmth of an aesthetic sensation, any movement of the heart... Among the “Overcoat”, in the most wonderful places, she will suddenly remember some stupid poems by Myatlev about some quarterly and say or sing: “Drunk like a rascal, drunk”... - etc., always with special pleasure.” (By the way, from these two characteristics of the same person one can deduce two main channels along which our aesthetic and ideological development proceeded.)
Smirnova-Rosset was a female version of that most characteristic type of the era, which in pure form Myatlev himself embodied it, as did his famous peers - Prince Vyazemsky, Pushkin, Griboyedov, etc. This type will soon disappear, and the younger Vyazemsky will write, not without didacticism and moralism: “For our generation, brought up during the reign of Nikolai Pavlovich, Pushkin’s antics already seemed wild. Pushkin and his friends, brought up during Napoleonic wars, under the influence of heroic revelry” they saw in all this aesthetic and behavioral daring “the last manifestations of an original life being buried alive.”
Pushkin dedicated a famous poem to Myatlev: “Matchmaker Ivan, how will we drink…” (1833). But Prince Vyazemsky was especially close to Myatlev, tinkered with him and his poems, thus satisfying his passion (strengthened by Irish blood) for stupid jokes. This trinity - Pushkin, Vyazemsky and Myatlev - belongs to the famous collective “We must remember, we absolutely must”(1833) - an essay that is as absurdly insane in its evil infinity as it is funny. With a slightly changing refrain: “We must remember, we certainly must remember...”
Vyazemsky, sending this wild poem to Zhukovsky, wrote that Myatlev “in this case was notre chef d’ecole” (translated: “our mentor”).
Alexandra Smirnova-Rosset, in turn, recalls how Gogol “taught Pushkin and Myatlev how to read in The Invalid” when they were writing memos. They already had a rather long race:
Mikhail Mikhailovich Speransky
And postal director Yeromolansky,
Apraksin Stepan,
Big blockhead
and Prince Vyazemsky Peter,
Almost drunk in the morning.
They have been looking for rhymes for Yusupov for a long time. Myatlev ran in early in the morning with delight: “I found it, I found it: Prince Boris Yusupov / And Colonel Arapupov"(then Dmitry Minaev will go crazy with the rhyming of proper names).
Poems for the occasion
Myatlev's favorite genre is poetry for the occasion. He could easily devote an absolutely empty fantasy to General Ermolov "on the coming day one thousand eight hundred fourth year» , in a playful and nonsensical spirit:
If Madame Esther passes
Le cancan de la Chauliere -
The whole theater is packed with people...
Happy New Year!
(“New 1944. Fantasy”)
The inconsistency of a poetic trifle with the status of the addressee - His Excellency- Myatlev was not at all embarrassed. However, all this was quite consistent with the norms and spirit of the times.
The poet enjoyed the favor of the kings. Once, after reading the poems of Yakov Grot “Beware; The region is swampy, the city is filled with poison...", the heir, the future Tsar Alexander II, asked Myatlev to protect St. Petersburg. As a result, a poem was born: “Do you really believe the slander the Finns have woven against us?”(1841). Like Grotto’s poem, the Myatlevsky response was dedicated to the very Marquise de Traversay, whose bouquet the poet treated so cruelly...
Just as much as the ladies, the kings and Prince Vyazemsky, Lermontov fell in love with Myatlev: “Here is the lady Kurdyukova, / Her story is so sweet, / I would confirm it from word to word...” To which Myatlev responded, perhaps not too elegantly, but undoubtedly with a sincere verse “Madame Kurdyukova to Lermontov”: “Monsieur Lermontov, you are a warbler, / A songbird, a vreman! Tu ver son si sharman..."(translation: “Truly! All your poems are so beautiful...”)
Lermontov became familiar: “I love your paradoxes / And ha-ha-ha, and hee-hee-hee, / S[mirnova’s] little thing, S[asha’s] farce / And Ishka M[yatlev’s] poems...” Just think: what kind of Myatlev is “Ishka” for him, with an age difference of almost 20 years - Ivan Petrovich!.. But, apparently, there was something eternally teenage in Myatlev.
Travel blog of Mrs. Kurdyukova
It seems that Myatlev’s poetic ambition (if he had any at all) was completely satisfied with such sweet trifles and the love of those around him. The first two collections of his poems were published without the name of the author, accompanied by a nicely simple-minded notice: “We were persuaded to publish” (1834 and 1835), which was true.
However, almost a nationwide ha ha ha And hee hee hee after the publication of “Sensations and remarks of Mrs. Kurdyukova abroad, dan l’etrange” with cartoons by Vasily Timm (1840-1844). The place of publication was jokingly listed as Tambov, where Mrs. Kurdyukova lived.
Here Myatlev gave full rein to his passion for macaroni verse, which infuriated language purists. “Sensations and remarks...” were preceded by a sarcastic epigraph: "De bon tambour de basque / Derriere le Montagnier" with the explanation: “Russian folk proverb"(translation: "Glorious are the tambourines beyond the mountains"). But the poet lived in the era of linguistic diffusion, in the times of “bilingual culture” (Yuri Lotman).
Splicing Russian words with foreign ones for an endlessly long time, he created a very funny, although perhaps somewhat drawn-out (about 400 pages) joke. In a wild dance rhythm:
But for me, it's pretty good
This bronze Saturno
Presented here; he is a villain
Your own children
Eats like it's roast
What is Saturno?
Time is simple, se le tan,
Qui devore sez enfant...
(translation: “This is the time that devours its children”)
Sometimes the poet suddenly changes his tone and speaks seriously and sternly about the triumph of the “Russian Orthodox faith”, about the picture he saw in the Vatican depicting the Savior on Tabor. For all his frivolity, Myatlev was a deeply religious man.
“The sensations and remarks of Mrs. Kurdyukova...” were perceived by critics without humor. As an emblem of the Russian province, which the capitals laugh at. But they decided that “Kurdyukova’s face is a wonderful face: it belongs to the clowns or jesters of Shakespeare, to the Ivanushkas, our foolish Emelyushkas.” folk tales" They were surprised by the penchant for indecency, which “reaches in Mrs. Kurdyukova to some kind of invincible passion.” But there was nothing surprising in this: after all, Myatlev based Mrs. Kurdyukova mainly on himself and partly on his friend Smirnova-Rosset. And critics also noted that Kurdyukova is “too smart” and educated - and, therefore, this is not a Tambov landowner, but Myatlev himself. But it seems that the writer was convicted not so much of Kurdyukova’s intelligence and education as her constant and interested attention to female charms. (Unless she's a lesbian, of course.)
Illustrating the poem, Vasily Timm depicted this tourist as similar to Myatlev. Or this: in front of the mirror is Myatlev, and in the mirror is Mrs. Kurdyukova.
Meanwhile
Yes, of course, jokes, trifles, the master’s whims, art for art’s sake... Meanwhile, he could be truly poetic in ordinary speech: “Wrapped in a piece of heaven, and looks like an angel...”- in poetry it turned out a little worse (see: “What I saw yesterday”, 1840).
Lanterns,
Tell me,
What you saw, what you heard
In the silence of the night...
Lanterns
They burn themselves, they burn,
Did you see, or didn’t you see -
They don't say that...
“By the name of lanterns, the writer meant officials who were members of public service", - was written on one of the copies of the poem. Well, yes, officials and dignitaries who don’t care about "human sorrows". As a Soviet researcher writes, “Lanterns” is “a deeply satirical, although artistically veiled image ... of the bureaucratic system of the Nicholas era.” One way or another, “Lanterns” ended up in collections of underground poetry. And even, it seems, Herzen liked it.
Myatlev is also the author of the lapidary-conversational “New Year” (1844), which is based mainly on rhythm: “All the people / Says New Year, / Says, / What he brought, / Says, / Nothing, sir, / Says, / To whom the cross, / Says, / To whom the pestle, / Says, / To whom the rank, / Says, / To whom the damn, / Says...”
Intriguing literary plot associated with the Myatlev “Fantastic Saying” (1833), also known as “Cockroach”:
Cockroach
Like in a glass
Will hit -
Will disappear
On glass
Hard
It won't crawl up.
So do I:
my life
Has faded,
Departed...
On the one hand, “Cockroach” parodies “Evening Dawn” by Polezhaev. And on the other hand, it becomes a Castalian key for the incomparable captain Lebyadkin: “Once upon a time there lived a cockroach, / A cockroach from childhood, / And then it fell into a glass, / Full of fly-eaters...” Then the cockroach will naturally crawl to Nikolai Oleinikov, then show up somewhere in the vicinity of “The Life of Insects” by Viktor Pelevin.
And Kozma Prutkov, and Dmitry Aleksandrovich Prigov, and Timur Kibirov, and other writers caught (and caught) the rays flying from the poems of this careless jester of Russian literature. And its unthinkable ha ha ha And hee hee hee…
“If you don’t like it, don’t read it”, - this is how the epigraph is translated.