From German Smirnov
B Oris Efimov said that in 1936 Stalin called him. "Products sch Efimov, I’m calling to say that I liked your cartoon in today’s Izvestia. Is it true that today is your birthday? May I send you a small gift? Do you mind? They'll bring him soon."
Two people in civilian clothes arrived: “Citizen Efimov? Allow me your documents." They checked and handed over the box. It contained a luxurious leather-bound notebook and an American fountain pen.
Stalin calls for the second time. “Did you like my gift? I recommend making daily notes in a notebook. Today, for example, who congratulated you on your birthday. I wish you all the best."
Boris Efimov followed the advice and for his long life I filled up many more notebooks.
From the Chairman of the Moscow Council under Yeltsin Saikin
After well-known events, Yeltsin and I walk along Red Square. He joyfully says: “Now no one will stop you and me from building capitalism!”
I answer him: “I won’t build capitalism with you!” Fuck you with him (famous three letters)!
Yeltsin became furious, began stomping his feet, waving his arms, and yelling at me. I turned and left.
From G.V. Smirnov
The director, not lacking in talent, received an order from American Jews to make a film about the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee. He made a cinematic eulogy for the noble, wise idealists who toured the Jewish diaspora and raised money for warring Russia. And after the war, the bloody Stalin brought down the most severe repressions on these innocent people, imprisoned and shot many.
It turns out that after the war, Stalin said that he was ready to thank those who helped him triple the amount. For three years all creditors visited Moscow, and Stalin collected all the receipts issued to them by members of the Anti-Fascist Committee. Having compared them with the amounts that they transferred to the Soviet government, Beria discovered a huge shortage. Depending on what was assigned, they received: some a bullet, some a prison term. And, of course, it was more profitable for them to die as ideological fighters for Zionism than as swindlers.
From Lieutenant General Zazulin
Rokossovsky how the Polish Minister of Defense was informed about Polish officer, who liked to drive his car around Warsaw while drunk. After breaking the sixth, Konstantin Konstantinovich called him and talked for a long time. He ended with the words: “Don’t disgrace the rank of an officer.” He got the hang of it and retired as a colonel.
Usveterans meeting
After a report on plans for implementing a property tax, a voice came from the audience: “When is the revolution?”
From +++
The Ukrainians managed to make a copy of Putin’s latest dossier kept by German intelligence. This is the answer to the strangeness in Russian-Ukrainian relations.
From +++
Kryuchkov lacked decisiveness. But he didn’t want to be in charge; this is not a role for the chairman of the KGB. However, all the others refused: Pavlov, Shenin, Pugo... They persuaded Yazov for a long time; he agreed only when he did not see himself on the leadership list after the Ogaryovo agreement. Gorbachev remained president there, Nazarbayev remained prime minister. Kryuchkov constantly communicated with Yeltsin. He didn't betray, he was just indecisive. And he was afraid of bloodshed. And they were not afraid. Yazov withdrew his troops from Moscow without consulting anyone.
In the Council of Ministers, in all positions below the head. People of a certain orientation sat in sections. Therefore, when the interregional group decided to ignore Ryzhkov, not a single order was carried out. He came to Gorbachev and left with nothing.
The interregional group conferred daily, and all its decisions were received by Kryuchkov on the same day. The plan of the hidden conspirators was this: make Yeltsin president, give him plenty to drink, and govern himself. Chazov reported to Kryuchkov that Yeltsin would not last long, and the calculations were based on this.
From a member of the CPSU Central Committee
At the April Plenum of the CPSU Central Committee, Gorbachev was so criticized that he jumped up from his chairman’s seat, shouted: “That’s it, I’m leaving!” and ran out backstage.
A break was immediately announced. The rather frightened members of the Politburo gathered (Gorbachev did not come). After a short exchange of views, Ivashko suggested: “We will assume that Mikhail Sergeevich did not say this.” That's what they decided on.
Primakov (third in American list agents of influence after Yakovlev and Shevardnadze), Volsky and Grachev spent the entire break processing members of the Central Committee. They spoke at the resumption of the meeting and took the edge off the moment.
Before the next plenum, Volsky informed its participants that if what happened repeated itself, 100 members of the Central Committee would leave the hall and gather for a separate plenum, where a second CPSU would be created, property and funds would be divided. “The work has already been done with them,” he said.
Beria's Harem. From an employee of the Nikolsky Park boarding house
Several years ago, a woman vacationed with us; in the 40s and 50s she worked at Beria’s dacha in Khimki. She was then 95 years old. She said that she was once grabbed on the street and brought to this dacha, where Beria raped her in a perverted form, depriving her of the opportunity to become a mother. For some reason, she escaped the fate of the girls who were killed in such cases. Beria took pity on her and made her a “mother”.
He had a card index. Having chosen the next victim, as a rule, a high school student, he sent this woman and two guards after her. They tracked her down and forced her into a car on the way from school. The “mother’s” job was to cover the girl’s mouth so she wouldn’t scream.
Beria did not attack the girls. First they were washed, fed deliciously, and then brought to him. More often than others, he ordered Tatar women - he liked their anatomical features.
It was a beast, vicious, merciless. When he entered our room, everyone froze: at any moment we could expect anything, anything.
He did not use his harem alone.
After Beria’s arrest, we were all sent abroad. I don’t remember how, apparently under the influence of drugs. Apparently, first to Europe, then to the USA, where I married a Russian emigrant and lived for a long time happy life. After his death, she returned to Russia to her previous apartment and received a pension.
From the doctor historical sciences, Colonel General L.G. Ivashova
The main reason for the systemic crisis of society is the destruction of its moral foundations.
The first loan to the Yeltsin government - $3.2 billion - went to support his American advisers.
Post-Soviet election campaigns- a means of dividing the people.
Putin’s first decree after the inauguration was to dismiss 56 senior army officials who were worth something.
From the writer V.V. Karpova
FineThese companies were intended for privates who had committed misconduct; there were several of them on each front. There was only one penal battalion at the front, for officers. They did not have any significance for the course of hostilities.
Socialist realism is not an installation term, but an evaluative one. That is, so that along with criticism there is also good, not everything around is hopeless.
We are a country occupied by aliens. We don't have any capitalism, we have a jungle.
Those whom comrades and relatives called Lenin's guard were Trotsky's guard.
At the trial in 1938, Bukharin said: “Don’t believe about hypnosis, about powders, they wrote everything themselves.”
At the historical readings of the Committee in Memory of Stalin. Modern jokes about Stalin
Obama gathered all his aides and asked:
– How can we save ourselves from the crisis?
The smartest one said: “We must consult Marx.”
Let's go to Marx. He explained the theoretical side of the issue for a long time.
Obama listened carefully and said:
– I agree with many of your points, but how to do all this?
Marx gets up, opens the door to the next room and says:
- Come in, Comrade Stalin!
***
Putin came to Stalin.
– Tell me, what should I do first?
– Repaint the Kremlin in pink and shoot everyone who is there.
– The Kremlin in pink? Maybe it's not necessary?
– Comrade Putin, I was sure that you and I would disagree on only one issue.
From historian A.N. Shefova
While I was working at Stalin’s dacha in the early 60s, a call rang: “You’re on a tour. There will be one killer." The “murderer” turned out to be Mercader, who eliminated Trotsky. Saying goodbye after the excursion, I asked him why this method of murder was chosen - after all, it would have been much easier to do it with a pistol.
“It was necessary,” he replied.
Then I learned that Stalin ordered Trotsky to be killed “like a beast.” The organizers of the assassination attempt chose this method.
From Yu.F. Shishenko
On June 21, 1941, I was sent to live with my uncle in Central Asia. The war had not yet begun, but military echelons were constantly coming towards us. I was 10 years old. Children's memory preserved these pictures forever.
From geneGeneral Lieutenant, Doctor of Historical Sciences N.S. Leonova
Our listening station in Cuba even recorded all cell phone conversations in the United States. Yeltsin, and he kept it. During his visit to Cuba, Putin promised Castro that she would work. And having arrived in Moscow, he immediately stopped funding it (150 million rubles a year). The station ceased to exist, and Fidel was personally insulted. Kvashnin, who was then the Chief of the General Staff, assured everyone that the station was not needed: we would launch 30 satellites and we would receive more full information. The satellites were not launched. Kvashnin was transferred to another job.
From KGB Lieutenant General L.V. Shebarshina
During his service in Afghanistan, Rutskoi made only two missions, and was shot down both times. In the second case, he was considered dead, and the title of Hero was awarded to him “posthumously.” When it turned out that he was alive, we bought him. The Americans added 6 more Toyota trucks to the gang in which the future vice-president of Russia was captured for his release.
From ***
Putin wanted to become speaker of the State Duma. But he was told to become prime minister.
Sechin is a normal “brother”, “brother”.
Deripaska from the Kuban village, a capable guy, is not devoid of patriotism.
After the death of Patriarch Pimen, two currents in the Russian Orthodox Church fought for the patriarchal throne - conservative and reformist (Alexy and Kirill). Gorbachev chose Alexy. Kirill, then rector of the Leningrad Theological Academy, was destined to become a metropolitan. But according to Kalugin’s report, he was exiled to the most ordinary diocese. Already under Yeltsin, Alexy called him to Moscow and gave him control of the income from duty-free trade in alcohol and cigarettes. There was a lot of income. It is believed that they ensured the election of Kirill as patriarch; according to rumors, the bishops were paid several million for their votes. Under Soviet power, Kirill always worked in contact with the regional committee, even lived in a regional committee apartment.
From Stanislav Govorukhin
“As chairman of the parliamentary commission to study the causes and circumstances of the crisis situation in the Chechen Republic, in 1995 I published the results of the parliamentary investigation. In this conclusion, Boris Yeltsin was named the main culprit of the bloody conflict. And if then it was wild for the majority, now 80 percent agree with me. And it’s all the same.”
In the Union of Journalists
Retirees should prepare for difficult times. Now, before the elections, the authorities are at least pretending to be concerned about rising prices and tariffs. As soon as the elections are held, business will have complete freedom to make money. Will the people survive?
At the RUSO (Russian Scientists of Socialist Orientation) seminar
Putin wanted to make another person president. But Chubais, on behalf of the Beidelberg Club, and the Washington personnel department pushed Medvedev.
From Rasul Gamzatov
North Caucasus- a small pot. It boils quickly, but cools quickly. But when Russia boils...
From the Chairman of the KGB of the USSR V.A. Kryuchkova
I ask: “Vladimir Alexandrovich, the intelligence services of the leading countries of the world receive huge amounts of money for their work. Would they be paid so much if they didn’t have their own people in the leadership of the USSR?” "Of course not".
“Yakovlev was an obvious American agent. Why didn’t you touch him?”
“I reported about him to Gorbachev, he replied that I should talk to him myself.”
From State Duma deputy G.I. Tikhonova
At the beginning of Putin’s presidency, I approached him at a reception with a question:
Do you think it's necessary? How?
Remove Chubais.
Who will allow it?!
Since childhood, B.V. Shergin had great drawing abilities. As a boy, he drew many pictures that arose in his memory native nature and after graduating from the Arkhangelsk Lomonosov gymnasium he moved to the Moscow Stroganov Art School. B.V. Shergin illustrated his first books himself.
Boris Viktorovich began publishing his stories in 1916. He wrote about a dozen books: “At the Arkhangelsk City, at the Ship’s Shelter”, a collection of fairy tales “Shish Moskovsky”, “Arkhangelsk Novels”, “Pomorshchina-shipbuilding”, etc.
In the book “Pomeranian Were and Tales,” the young reader will find stories about the Dvina land, the North Sea, and the life of the people of the North - sailors, sea animal hunters, fishermen. Read interesting grandfather's tales, antiquities and fairy tales created by the author based on oral folk art Pomors He will hear the beautiful, bright speech of the Pomors, and see the nature of our North.
Many of the images of the old-time Pomors drawn by B.V. Shergin echo those builders of the new who, after the revolution, came to the North, work there, drive ocean-going steamers on long voyages and cross the Great Northern Sea Route along the ocean.
I. Emelyanova.
My youth
Dvina land
Since midnight, my native country has been surrounded by the great Cold Sea - a gray ocean.
From the Cold Ocean at noon the White Sea, our bright Gandvik, grew larger. The Arkhangelsk Dvina fell into the White Sea. Wide and sovereign, quiet, that river flows from the south at midnight and meets the sea under the Arkhangelsk Mountain. There are plenty of islands here: sands lie and forests stand
Where the shore is higher, people gathered in mansions. And there is water all around. Wherever you decide to go, there is a boat everywhere, or even a boat.
In the summer, when the sun shines at midnight and noon, living by the sea is bright and pleasant. Beautiful flowers bloom on the islands, a thin and fragrant breeze blows, and silvery smoke floats over the grasses and meadows.
We will arrive from the city in a carbass*. The rose hips are blooming and fragrant. We can’t breathe enough, we can’t look enough. Near the water on the white sands, seagulls teach the children to sing, and with a cock* they rinse open shells onto the sand. Lungworts and moths fly from flower to flower. In autumn, there are raspberries and currants on the islands, and where there is moss, there is an abundance of red and blue berries. We collect cloudberries, lingonberries, pigeons, and blueberries using rakes: with our hands for a long time, and we carry them in baskets to the carbasa. There are so many berries - you can’t even remember the ground beneath you. The tundra is covered with berries like kumac carpets.
Where there is a forest, there is a mosquito - you can’t brush it off with two hands.
In the summer months, when the time comes at midnight, the sun will set on the sea like a duck, but when it sets, it will only take off its crown, and the sky will light up with pearl clouds. And all the beauty will be reflected in the waters.
Then the winds will stop and the water will reflect. There will be great silence in the sea. And the sun, moving closer for a minute
eyes, will again go his way, which he walks incessantly, without change.
We love and want this bright summer time, like we look forward to a holiday. From the end of April there is no need for a lamp. On sunny nights we sleep little.
Since August, the white nights have faded. In the evenings we sit with the fire.
From the month of September, chilly winds will come from the sea. It rains early in the morning and late in the evening. These days, geese and swans, loons and ducks, all kinds of birds fly over the city, over the islands. They fly to midday lands, where there is no winter, but always summer.
Here hunters do not sleep or eat. Father used to float a bird's boat home with a bat. Poultry was served to the poor.
Fogs are rolling in over the small islands and sandy cats* near the sea. The white mara* of the sea lasts from night until noon. Near you, only the end of the gun is visible; but in the city, beyond the islands, there are no fogs.
Then the animals find holes and the fish walks along the quiet lips*.
Cold winds come from strength to strength. Not only in the sea, but on the Dvina River there is such a platoon that the karbasa with people are bogged down* and the sea vessels at the piers are being torn from their anchors.
I remember what happened before my eyes: the weather in the city was so bad, even the wooden piers were scattered across the islands and the forests from the factories carried away many thousands of logs into the sea.
Then the midnight wind will start, it will change the rain to snow. It will stay like this for a little while, and it will snow heavily day and night. If it freezes right away, then the rivers will freeze and the sleigh will be cleared. And the snow fell on the thawed ground, then the mud was long, there was thin ice on the rivers, there was no communication between the city and the villages. Only the news goes that there people broke off on the ice, and in another; where the horses were dropped. Horses are also dropped on spring ice.
So winter will come. By November the days will become short and gloomy. Those who get up late don’t even see the day. In schools, the lights are turned off only for an hour. It used to be that you ran to school in the morning - the street lights were on, and at three o'clock in the afternoon you crawled home - the lights were turned on.
In December the frosts will hit hard. We loved this time - December, January - a playful and revelry time. The air is like crystal. At noon, the dawn will dawn in the blue sky, blazing with gold, roses, and emeralds. And the day will last for two hours. Houses, fences, trees in a transparent blue, like sugar ones: frosty, rusty. The frost is breathtaking. Chop wood skillfully. As soon as you hit it with an ax, take care of your feet: the lumps fly like sugar.
At night the stars will light up like candles. Ursa Major - all over the sky.
Listen to what a miracle I’ll tell you.
In the frost, by midnight, in the blue velvet of the sky, a silver belt will begin to stretch from west to east, and from the north, as if the morning dawn will rise...
And suddenly everything goes dark. Again, from across the sea, fingers of debt will stretch out without measure and set across the sky. Yes, the dawn will be terrible, like a fire. And again everything will go out, and the stars will be visible... The radiance will be renewed. Over time, it will stand up like a wall, with pillars on either side, and the pillars will begin to fall, and the wall will bow. Otherwise, it’s as if a blue river will flow, stand and curl up like a scroll.
It used to be that when you were sleeping, you would hear a dog howl and open your eyes. Light shadows run along the walls, and outside the windows the sky and snow shimmer with untold lights.
Mom or dad woke us up, little ones, to watch the bright flashes and lights. We'll be offended if we oversleep and the neighbors' kids boast about what they saw.
Winter has long legs, and winter comes with torment. At the beginning of February the frosts are still crackling and ringing. In March, the sun will warm you up, the icicles will fall off the roofs. In April, warm upper winds will blow across the lower Dvina region. The streams will thunder, the snow will fall, the rivers will be filled with water. Big waters will come - flood spring.
In which years the spring warmth suddenly comes, then the Dvina and the younger rivers will come to life in a row and melt away from the ice. Past the city is coming ice with hummock walls.
It's a great thing that we have ice drift. We can’t wait long for another year after the harsh winter. The river will open and life will boil. Steamships will come from abroad and from Vologda. It will be fun... The townspeople - a little freely - go to the edge*, go to the shore. The Dvina is still frozen, but the ice has turned blue, water has appeared everywhere... At school - just before recess - we immediately fly to guard the ice. By yard
boats are prepared, caulked, and tarred. And now there is trampling all over the city. People flock to the shore in droves. So the river has flown. Celebrations along the banks will open. No time for studying, no time for work. Multi-colored flags and balls are thrown out all the time on the city towers; From them, the townspeople, as if from a book, read which way the ice flows into the sea, where the jam is, where it is flooded.
The suburb of Solombala stands on the low-lying islands, and rare year doesn't drown them. The streets will be full of holes, the stoves in low buildings will become wet. In the city, as soon as they hear cannons firing, they know that Solombala has sailed. The Solombalans don’t blow their heads, they have a party, the guesthouse will open, they ride through the streets in boats with accordions, with songs, with samovars. And before that - in the evenings with colored lanterns and wearing masks.
There are bad books. They only have one layer. There are good books. They have several layers. There are talented books. They have many layers. And there are books that are brilliant. There are no layers in them. These books are very much like an ocean in which everyone can find something of their own. The ocean contains everything that a person can, and even cannot, imagine. There is only one thing missing – there are no beaten paths. And therefore, every movement in it is unique and inimitable. So in these brilliant books, there is everything except a clear path. Each person finds his own way in them. And as a result, he reads his own personal, unique and unlike anything else book. Humanity has created very few such books throughout its history. Here is one of them - great book"Tao Te Ching".This Book has it all. If you dive into it to find your life path, you can find it there. And if you're diving for instructions on how to manage people, you can find it. And if you dive in search of medical practice to heal people. And if you want to find peace. And if you want to understand yourself. Or understand others. And, what’s most amazing, even if you dive into it just for the heck of it, you can find in it answers to questions that you didn’t even know existed. She herself will lead you to both questions and answers to them. You just need to surrender yourself to this Book, and it will lead you exactly where you need to go. It sounds a little strange to “surrender yourself to the Book,” but, in fact, it is very simple. Eat different ways or, as they write in special books, “techniques” to do this. Let me offer you one of them. Let's call it “photo translation”.
Photo translation is an ambiguous translation of text into the language of photographic images. Of course, it does not replace the text. It helps to read in the text what cannot be expressed in words. It does not illustrate it, but makes it possible to see what remains hidden between the letters. Photo translation is ambiguous, if only because each person in any image will probably see something different from what others have seen. We are designed in such a way that it is easier for us to understand some things with the help of words, and some with the help of images. If, for example, one person asks another how much “two plus two” is, the answer “four” will most likely be absolutely clear to him. But if he asks what “fate” is, then, most likely, the answer will not be clear. And not at all because one person cannot explain this to another person in words. It’s just that people are all unique and think accordingly, each in their own coordinate system. And, as a rule, these systems do not coincide well with one another. But if, instead of trying to give a verbal definition, the second person says: “Fate is ...” and shows a photograph of a road or tree, or river, or ocean shore, the first person will understand the second immediately. Moreover, he will understand it in the system of his life coordinates. And then a completely unexpected mechanism, which is the basis of photo translation, will begin to work - a person will be able to hear in the text not what the translator meant from one language to another, choosing words that define images in different cultural coordinate systems, and even, scary to say, not what he wrote author. He can see heard and read. See and create your own translation. It is quite possible that this translation will be very much (if not radically) different from what the author had in mind, but... When you dive into the ocean in search of harmony, you are absolutely not obliged to first examine the mineral composition of the water for its content salt. The main thing for you is that this water holds you and gives you the opportunity to look for what you are looking for. How she does it is completely unimportant.
If fate brought you together with this great Book for the first time, then you will inevitably stumble over the very first phrase of the first chapter: “The Tao that can be expressed in words is not a permanent Tao.” Completely incomprehensible, abstruse and frightening. Please don’t be scared, don’t be tormented by an inferiority complex, and boldly swim on - and before you, hundreds of thousands of people stumbled on it and looked for a verbal definition of this term. They searched, but did not find. “The Path”, “The Road”, “That Which Leads”, “That Which Gives Birth to All Things”, “The Way Everything Happens”, “Divine Plan”, “The Laws of the Universe”... The list is endless. Take any of these formulations as a starting point and continue your journey through this amazing Book - at some stage you will probably have your own understanding of this word, and not necessarily expressed in words.
What you will see and hear now is, of course, an interpretation. An interpretation of the understanding of the laws of the universe, written down two and a half millennia ago by one person, in a system of coordinates that was understandable and accepted at that time, translated into Russian in the mid-twentieth century and, quite understandably, also interpreted by another person, read at the beginning of the twenty-first century and, of course, interpreted by a third person and translated into the language of photography and, accordingly, interpreted by a fourth. Moreover, they all did this in the system of their life and cultural coordinates, sometimes not only not coinciding with each other, but not even touching. But the interpretation that came out is not final version. It contains the following free space and it's meant for you, dear viewer, for you have every right to your own interpretation of this “seen and heard” and to the discovery of your understanding of Tao.
And the last thing is how to communicate with this Book. Open different chapters, return to them, stick to order, mix up chapters, dive deep, swim on the surface, think about the image that caught your attention, remove your images from the world around you that explain this or that thought or feeling, agree with the interpretation, disagree ... The main thing is not to deny yourself the desire that will inevitably arise in you - to return to this or that chapter or thought again and again. You can and should return to this text many times. Moreover, a phrase read today, tomorrow (not figuratively, but in the literal sense of the word - tomorrow) can be understood in a completely different way. And this is absolutely normal - before you is an ocean in which there are no permanent paths and in which everyone, at any moment in their life, can find their own path. Your Tao.
Dmitry Brikman
B.V. Shergin
There were Pomeranian legends
Dear grandson,
MISHA BARYKIN,
this book.
About the book by B.V. Shergin
Since ancient times, the ancestors of today's Pomors moved from Novgorod to Govor in our country, to the White Sea. They began to go fishing, first along the Dvina and off the sea shores, and then further and further into the sea to fish for seals and walruses. New newcomers settled more and more widely across seashore; They were called Pomors.
The struggle with harsh nature forged among the Pomors a strong character, the ability not to get lost in difficult circumstances, determination and fortitude.
In the stormy, changeable sea water, one person is in trouble, and the Pomors went fishing in an artel, a squad. Strong friendship and mutual assistance bound the squad together. The Pomor was always ready to help out his comrades in trouble: if you go out fishing, rely on your comrade, but also help him yourself, take care of yourself - this is the law for the Pomor.
The people in the North did not know the humiliating oppression of serfdom, they were literate and independent. When from the shores White Sea Russia began to trade with foreign merchants, the Pomors were the first to carry goods on their ships to Norway, Sweden, and England, earning respect everywhere for their courage and honest attitude to business.
On the wide Northern Dvina, at its very confluence with the White Sea, the city of Arkhangelsk arose long ago. It was convenient place for the city: down the river they carried everything that the dense northern forests gave the Russians, and by sea foreign ships came for our raw materials. Noisy, vibrant life was going on in Arkhangelsk, at the piers, where both Russian speech and the speech of foreigners who came on their ships were heard.
The beautiful nature of the North attracted the heart with its subtlest colors; stern, she was a dear, beloved Pomor mother. Over the wide expanses of the Northern Territory in the summer there is a “non-setting” sun in the sky, and in the bright summer time when the winds die down over the sea, a person searches poetic words to remember and convey to people my understanding of our native northern nature.
A Pomor who has gone out to sea to fish loves to listen far from the shore and tell himself about what he has seen - he is a subtle connoisseur of the art of words. From time immemorial, the Pomors had their own talented singers, storytellers. People of great poetic talent and amazing memory, they could not only sing dozens of old songs and oldies heard from their elders (as the Pomors call epics), tell many fairy tales, but also compose their own new songs, oldies and fairy tales. They reflected historical events, and the work of the Pomors in the hunting and fishing industries, and most importantly, that high rise of spirit that the Pomors forged for centuries in the fight against the harsh nature of the Arctic Sea, where they were the first to pave the way for subsequent generations.
Many observations, signs, information about the direction of sea currents, ice, winds, weather, preserved in the memory of the storytellers, turned out to be useful and important in our days of Arctic exploration. When in our Soviet era Heroes-polar explorers deploy research stations on ice floes, study the nature of the Arctic Ocean, then more than once, of course, they remember the glorious sailors of the past, the first explorers who visited the distant islands and shores of their native North. Many such brave people died at sea, leaving behind a good memory in Pomeranian epics and legends.
The author of this book, Boris Viktorovich Shergin, grew up in Arkhangelsk, among working people: his father, a native Pomor, was a shipwright - he built sea sailing ships. Since childhood, Boris Viktorovich constantly saw old sailors working with his father and heard their stories. It was impossible to marvel at how skillfully their intricate plots were intertwined; one could not listen enough to the pure, lofty speech of the storytellers. Raised on treasures verbal creativity northern people, the future writer forever preserved in his memory the creators of this treasure.
The writer calls Pafnutiy Osipovich Ankudinov, a remarkable master of words, his unforgettable mentor. Boris Viktorovich remembered his stories for the rest of his life and subsequently conveyed their poetic basis to our time. He brightly, talentedly, and in his own way wrote these ancient Pomeranian epics, legends, and fairy tales. He told us about his beloved North, about the kind, honest people, masters of their craft, whom I knew in childhood and youth.
The heroic image of a man who is honored more valuable than life, arises from old legends and stories passed down from fathers to children, from grandfathers to grandchildren. And the heroes of Shergin’s works are selfless, fair and skillful people; no work falls out of their hands; they can be entrusted with the management of any craft, construction and driving sea vessels. They know what a person’s word of honor is and carry out the work entrusted to them with honor. These smart and talented people do not strive for their own enrichment and honor, but for the glory of their homeland, and for this they do not spare their strength and life.
In Shergin's stories and in the ancient legends he conveyed, the deep, strong connection of the Pomors with their “fatherly sea” is shown with great poetic power. “You feed, water, the sea is blue, you put on shoes, clothes, the sea is salty...” - the Pomors sing. This is the great connection between man and nature, which he establishes through his eternal work and which gives rise to ardent love for his land, for his homeland. This connection is shown especially clearly and in a unique way in the legends “Brotherhood” and “Wrath”.
The legend “Anger” tells how two brothers lived in the Dvina estuary, went fishing to Novaya Zemlya and “traded at an unprofitable rate on the Dvina.” The elder brother, Likhoslav, violated “comradeship” - the rule of fair and honest attitude of the helmsman to his squad, which is obligatory in sea voyages: he abandoned his own brother Goreslav along with other hunters on the then uninhabited shore of Novaya Zemlya. Likhoslav is punished for his dishonest, treacherous act by “Father the Ocean, the Icy Sea.” In this legend, the honest work of a person is glorified with great poetic power.
And the unfortunate, dumb Bratanna, who “on a fierce day” asks for protection from human injustice by the blue sea, is saved from death and illness by “father the sea, the breadwinner.”
In Shergin's works, his poetic words resonate strongly. The magnificent, colorful northern language decorates both nature paintings and dialogues characters; all his characters speak briefly and forcefully, expressing their attitude to the event and their own character traits in a short phrase, like a proverb. “The ax is sharp, and the bitch has teeth! I’ll move this mountain and fly into the ocean on my wings!” says Matyusha Korelyanin in the story “Matvey’s Joy”.
This Matyusha Korelyanin remained an orphan from the age of six, and from the age of twelve he already began a hard working life - he went as a plover to the Murmansk crafts. Early on he realized that the Pomor “the sea is the drinker, the breadwinner. But the sea will give what you take. And to take it, you need a boat. Without his own vessel, even the most fragile one, a Pomor is not a breadwinner, but a slave to the rich.”
Almost from childhood, Matyusha Korelyanin dreamed of his own boat; He took on all kinds of work, “did not rest either on holidays or on weekdays, neither in winter nor in summer,” in order to save up for a ship, to escape from the master’s bondage, to escape from poverty. But only after October Revolution, which, in the figurative expression of the author, “brought merchant ships to the poor shore,” the dream of Matvey Korelsky came true. He, known to everyone for his honest work life, is elected chairman of the local fishing partnership, and he receives at his disposal the merchant Zubov’s schooner, which was once taken from him. With what love Matvey undertook, already old man, for the repair of the vessel launched by Zubov and named the updated ship “Joy”...
B.V. Shergin also writes about the new things that have appeared in the North in our time, about new heroes, about people of the present, in the story “In Relation to the Sea.”
We regularly read in the news about lawsuits and laws related to plagiarism. Disputes about authorship " Quiet Don“continue to this day: allegedly Mikhail Sholokhov found a manuscript in the field bag of a murdered Cossack and published it under his own name. Meanwhile, in his everyday life Most of us from time to time resort to everyday plagiarism - borrowing details from the biography of other people, curious or dramatic facts from their lives, passing them off as our own. A team of American psychologists led by Alan Brown conducted a survey to find out how often we appropriate other people's memories and why we do it. The results turned out to be very eloquent: more than 60% of respondents at least once told other people's stories, presenting themselves as their heroes, or ascribed to themselves details of someone else's biography. Half of the survey participants also indicated that they themselves had been victims of such theft at least once (1).
What prompts us to consciously appropriate other people's memories? The study authors identified the most common reasons:
- It's easier that way! In oral communication we strive for simplicity and expressiveness. Therefore, it seems natural to us that the story will be interesting to listeners in itself, and the details - who it happened to, under what circumstances we heard it - can be omitted.
- This makes us more popular. An interesting or funny story told to the point can make us more attractive in the eyes of others. Interestingly, this reason was more often mentioned in the answers of men. In addition, men in general were more likely than women to admit to plagiarism.
- This story suits us. “If this didn’t actually happen to me, then it could well have happened,” the majority of the “kidnappers” argue. For us, life has a plot that is logically connected and proceeds according to certain rules. We better perceive information that does not contradict our experience or worldview. Therefore, other people's stories are the same options life scenario which, it seems to us, could or should have happened to us.
When it comes to the conscious appropriation of other people's memories, everything is more or less clear. But among the survey participants there were those who sincerely believed that the details they retold related to their biography, and only after a while they accidentally remembered how things really were. What is behind this forgetfulness? To answer this question, we should remember the reconstructive nature of our memory. “Our personal memories can only be called personal,” explains Ruth Ray, a narratology researcher at Wayne State University (USA). - Everything that we remember and relate to own life, represents relatively plausible version real events. Our brain is constantly editing what it hears, sees and read, checking the information it has against the personality image it seeks to create.”
“In some cases, it is not just about appropriating the memory of individual events, but also about copying the personality of another person,” explains anthropologist Aleida Assmann. – Such cases are often associated with trauma, in which a person seeks to erase the memory of what happened by simply cutting out this fragment from his past and replacing it with someone else’s. For example, among Germans after the end of World War II, such a traumatic “forgetting” was common: many of those who were members of the Nazi Party and participated in crimes told their children that in fact they were against it from the very beginning and even participated in it. resistance movement. Gradually they themselves began to sincerely believe in it” (2).