Valentin Rasputin works for children. Works by Rasputin Valentin Grigorievich: “Farewell to Matera”, “Live and Remember”, “Deadline”, “Fire”
Rasputin's works are known and loved by many. Rasputin Valentin Grigorievich - Russian writer, one of the most famous representatives « village prose"in literature. The severity and drama of ethical problems, the desire to find support in the world of peasant folk morality reflected in his stories and stories dedicated to his contemporary rural life. In this article we will talk about the main works created by this talented writer.
"Money for Maria"
This story was created in 1967. It was from here that Rasputin (his photo is presented above) entered literature as an original writer. The story “Money for Maria” brought the author wide fame. This work outlined the main themes of his further work: being and everyday life, man among people. Valentin Grigorievich considers such moral categories, like cruelty and mercy, material and spiritual, good and evil.
Rasputin raises the question of how much other people are touched by someone else's grief. Is anyone capable of refusing a person in trouble and leaving him to perish without financial support? How can these people, after refusal, calm their conscience? Maria, the main character of the work, suffers not only from the discovered shortage, but, perhaps, to a greater extent from people's indifference. After all, just yesterday they were good friends.
The Tale of the Dying Old Woman
The main character of Rasputin's story " Deadline", created in 1970, is a dying old woman Anna, who recalls her life. A woman feels that she is involved in the cycle of existence. Anna experiences the mystery of death, feeling it as the main event in human life.
Four children are opposed to this heroine. They came to say goodbye to their mother, to see her off to last path. Anna's children are forced to stay next to her for 3 days. It was for this time that God delayed the old woman’s departure. The children's absorption in everyday worries, their vanity and fussiness present a sharp contrast with the spiritual work that takes place in the fading consciousness of the peasant woman. The narrative includes large layers of text, reflecting the experiences and thoughts of the characters in the work, and above all Anna.
Main topics
The topics that the author touches on are more multifaceted and deep than a quick reading might suggest. The relationship of children to parents, relationships between various family members, old age, alcoholism, concepts of honor and conscience - all these motives in the story “The Deadline” are woven into a single whole. The main thing that interests the author is the problem of the meaning of human life.
The inner world of eighty-year-old Anna is filled with worries and worries about children. They all left long ago and live separately from each other. The main character only wants last time see them. However, her children, already grown up, are busy and business representatives modern civilization. Each of them has their own family. They are all thinking about many different things. They have enough energy and time for everything except their mother. For some reason they hardly remember her. And Anna only lives in thoughts about them.
When a woman feels death approaching, she is ready to endure a few more days just to see her family. However, the children find time and attention for the old woman only for the sake of decency. Valentin Rasputin shows their lives as if they generally live on earth for the sake of decency. Anna's sons are mired in drunkenness, while her daughters are completely absorbed in their “important” affairs. They are all insincere and ridiculous in their desire to spend a little time with their dying mother. The author shows us their moral decline, selfishness, heartlessness, callousness, which took possession of their souls and lives. similar people? Their existence is gloomy and soulless.
At first glance it seems that the deadline is last days Anna. However, in reality this last chance for her children to fix something, to see their mother off with dignity. Unfortunately, they were unable to take advantage of this chance.
The Tale of a Deserter and His Wife
The work analyzed above is an elegiac prologue to the tragedy captured in the story entitled “Live and Remember,” created in 1974. If the old woman Anna and her children gather under their father’s roof in the last days of her life, then Andrei Guskov, who deserted from the army, finds himself cut off from the world.
Note that the events described in the story “Live and Remember” take place at the end of the Great Patriotic War. The symbol of Andrei Guskov's hopeless loneliness, his moral savagery is a wolf's hole located on an island in the middle of the Angara River. The hero hides in it from people and authorities.
The tragedy of Nastena
This hero's wife's name is Nastena. This woman secretly visits her husband. Every time she needs to swim across the river to meet him. It is no coincidence that Nastena overcomes the water barrier, because in myths it separates two worlds from each other - the living and the dead. Wall is authentic tragic heroine. Valentin Grigoryevich Rasputin confronts this woman with a difficult choice between love for her husband (Nastena and Andrei were married in church) and the need to live among people, in the world. The heroine cannot find either support or sympathy in any person.
The village life that surrounds her is no longer an integral peasant cosmos, harmonious and self-contained within its own boundaries. The symbol of this cosmos, by the way, is Anna’s hut from the work “The Deadline”. Nastena commits suicide, taking with her into the river the child Andrei, whom she wanted so much and whom she conceived with her husband in his wolf's den. Their death becomes an atonement for the deserter’s guilt, but she is unable to return this hero to his human appearance.
The story of the flooding of the village
The themes of parting with entire generations of people who lived and worked on their land, the themes of farewell to their mother-ancestress are already heard in “The Last Term”. In the story “Farewell to Matera,” created in 1976, they are transformed into a myth of death peasant world. This work tells about the flooding of a Siberian village located on an island as a result of the creation of a “man-made sea”. The island of Matera (from the word “mainland”), as opposed to the island depicted in “Live and Remember,” is a symbol of the promised land. This is the last refuge for those who live according to their conscience, in accordance with nature and God.
The main characters of "Farewell to Matera"
At the head of the old women living out their days here is the righteous Daria. These women refuse to leave the island and move to a new village symbolizing new world. The old women, portrayed by Valentin Grigorievich Rasputin, remain here until the very end, until the hour of death. They guard their shrines - the pagan Tree of Life (royal foliage) and a cemetery with crosses. Only one of the settlers (named Pavel) comes to visit Daria. He is driven by the vague hope of joining true meaning being. This hero, in contrast to Nastena, sails to the world of the living from the world of the dead, which is a mechanical civilization. However, the world of the living in the story “Farewell to Matera” perishes. At the end of the work, only its Owner, a mythical character, remains on the island. Rasputin ends the story with his desperate cry, which is heard in the dead emptiness.
"Fire"
In 1985, nine years after the creation of “Farewell to Matera,” Valentin Grigorievich decided to write again about the death of the communal world. This time he dies not in water, but in a fire. The fire engulfs commercial warehouses located in the timber industry village. In the work, a fire breaks out on the site of a previously flooded village, which has symbolic meaning. People are not ready to fight disaster together. Instead, they, one by one, competing with each other, begin to take away the goods snatched from the fire.
Image of Ivan Petrovich
Ivan Petrovich is the main character of this work by Rasputin. It is from the point of view of this character, who works as a driver, that the author describes everything that happens in the warehouses. Ivan Petrovich is no longer the righteous hero typical of Rasputin’s work. He is in conflict with himself. Ivan Petrovich is looking for and cannot find “the simplicity of the meaning of life.” Therefore, the author’s vision of the world he depicts becomes disharmonious and becomes more complicated. From this follows the aesthetic duality of the work’s style. In “Fire,” the image of burning warehouses, captured by Rasputin in every detail, is adjacent to various symbolic and allegorical generalizations, as well as journalistic sketches of the life of the timber industry enterprise.
In conclusion
We examined only the main works of Rasputin. You can talk about the work of this author for a long time, but this still will not convey all the originality and artistic value his stories and stories. Rasputin's works are certainly worth reading. They present the reader with a whole world full of interesting discoveries. In addition to the works mentioned above, we recommend that you familiarize yourself with the collection of Rasputin’s stories “The Man from the Other World,” published in 1965. Valentin Grigorievich's stories are no less interesting than his stories.
MOSCOW, March 15 – RIA Novosti. Writer Valentin Rasputin died in Moscow at the age of 78.
Russian writer, Hero of Socialist Labor, laureate of USSR State Prizes Valentin Grigorievich Rasputin was born on March 15, 1937 in the village of Ust-Uda Irkutsk region. Soon the parents, who subsequently fell into the flood zone after the construction of the Bratsk Hydroelectric Power Station.
His father, having been demobilized after the Great Patriotic War, worked as a postmaster. After his bag with public money was cut off during his official departure, he was arrested and spent seven years in the Magadan mines, being released under an amnesty after Stalin’s death. The mother had to raise three children alone.
In 1954, after graduating from high school, Valentin Rasputin entered the first year of the Faculty of History and Philology of Irkutsk state university, from which he graduated in 1959.
From 1957 to 1958, in parallel with his studies at the university, he worked as a freelance correspondent for the newspaper "Soviet Youth" and was accepted into the newspaper staff before defending his diploma in 1959.
In 1961-1962, Rasputin served as editor of literary and dramatic programs at the Irkutsk television studio.
In 1962, he moved to Krasnoyarsk, where he got a job as a literary employee in the newspaper "Krasnoyarsk Worker".
In 1963-1966, Rasputin worked as a special correspondent in the editorial office of the Krasnoyarsk Komsomolets newspaper.
As a journalist, he collaborated with various newspapers - "Soviet Youth", "Krasnoyarsky Komsomolets", "Krasnoyarsky Rabochiy".
Rasputin's first story, “I forgot to ask Leshka...” was published in 1961 in the Angara anthology. Stories and essays began to be published there. future book writer "The edge near the sky." The next publication was the story “A Man from This World,” published in the newspaper “East Siberian Truth” (1964) and the anthology “Angara” (1965).
In 1965, Rasputin took part in the Chita zonal seminar of aspiring writers, where he met with the writer Vladimir Chivilikhin, who noted his talent young author. At the suggestion of Chivilikhin in the newspaper " Komsomolskaya Pravda" Rasputin's story "The Wind is Looking for You" was published, and the essay "Departure of Stofato" was published in the magazine "Ogonyok".
Valentin Rasputin's first book, “The Edge Near the Sky,” was published in Irkutsk in 1966. In 1967, the book “A Man from This World” was published in Krasnoyarsk. In the same year, the story “Money for Maria” was published in the Irkutsk almanac “Angara”, and in 1968 it was published as a separate book in Moscow by the publishing house “Young Guard”.
IN full force The writer's talent was revealed in the story "The Deadline" (1970), declaring the maturity and originality of the author. This was followed by the story “French Lessons” (1973), the story “Live and Remember” (1974) and “Farewell to Matera” (1976).
In 1981, his stories “Natasha”, “What to convey to the crow”, “Live a century - love a century” were published. In 1985, Rasputin's story "Fire" was published, which aroused great interest among the reader due to the severity and modernity of the problem posed.
In the 1990s, the essays "Down the Lena River" (1995), the stories "To the Same Land" (1995), "Memorial Day" (1996), "Unexpectedly" (1997), "Father's Day" (1996) were published. limits" (1997).
In 2004, the presentation of the writer’s book “Ivan’s Daughter, Ivan’s Mother” took place.
In 2006, the third edition of the album of essays "Siberia, Siberia" was published.
Based on the works of Valentin Rasputin in different years The films "Rudolfio" (1969, 1991) directed by Dinara Asanova and Vasily Davidchuk, "French Lessons" (1978) by Evgeniy Tashkov, "Bearskin for Sale" (1980) by Alexander Itygilov, "Farewell" (1981) by Larisa Shepitko and Elem Klimov were shot , “Vasily and Vasilisa” (1981) by Irina Poplavskaya, “Live and Remember” (2008) by Alexander Proshkin.
Since 1967, Valentin Rasputin has been a member of the USSR Writers' Union. In 1986, he was elected secretary of the board of the Union of Writers of the USSR and secretary of the board of the Union of Writers of the RSFSR. Rasputin was a co-chairman and board member of the Russian Writers' Union.
Since 1979, Valentin Rasputin has been a member of the editorial board of the book series " Literary monuments Siberia" East Siberian Book Publishing House; the series ceased publication in the early 1990s.
In the 1980s, the writer was a member of the editorial board of the Roman-Gazeta magazine.
Valentin Rasputin was a member of the public council of the magazine "Our Contemporary".
In the first half of the 1980s, the writer began by becoming the initiator of a campaign to save Lake Baikal from the effluents of the Baikal pulp and paper mill. He published essays and articles in defense of the lake, and took an active part in the work of environmental commissions. In August 2008, as part of a scientific expedition, Valentin Rasputin dived to the bottom of Lake Baikal on the deep-sea manned submersible "Mir".
In 1989-1990, the writer was a deputy of the Supreme Soviet of the USSR. In 1990-1991 he was a member of the Presidential Council of the USSR.
In June 1991, during the Russian presidential elections, he was a confidant of Nikolai Ryzhkov.
In 1992, Rasputin was elected co-chairman of the Russian National Council (RNS); at the first council (congress) of the RNS he was re-elected co-chairman. In 1992, he was a member of the political council of the National Salvation Front (NSF).
Later, the writer stated that he did not consider himself a political figure, since “politics is a dirty business, a decent person has nothing to do there; this does not mean that there are no decent people in politics, but they are, as a rule, doomed.”
Valentin Rasputin was a laureate of the USSR State Prize (1977, 1987). In 1987 he was awarded the title of Hero of Socialist Labor. The writer was awarded the Order of the Badge of Honor (1971), the Red Banner of Labor (1981), two Orders of Lenin (1984, 1987), as well as the Order of Russia - For Services to the Fatherland IV (2002), and
Valentin Grigorievich Rasputin is one of the most prominent representatives classical Soviet and Russian prose of the twentieth century. He is the author of such iconic stories as “Live and Remember”, “Farewell to Matera”, “Ivan’s Daughter, Ivan’s Mother”. He was a member of the USSR Writers' Union, a laureate of the highest state awards, and an active public figure. He inspired directors to create brilliant films, and his readers to live by honor and conscience. Previously we published a short biography, this is an option for more full biography.
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Rural childhood and first creative steps
Valentin Rasputin was born on March 15, 1937 in the village of Ust-Uda (now Irkutsk region). His parents were simple peasants, and he was the most ordinary peasant child, With early childhood who knew and saw labor, who were not accustomed to surpluses, who perfectly felt the people's soul and Russian nature. IN junior school he went to school in his native village, but there was no secondary school there, so little Valentin had to move 50 km to attend educational institution. If you’ve read his “French Lessons,” you’ll immediately draw parallels. Almost all of Rasputin’s stories are not made up, they were lived by him or someone from his circle.
Receive higher education future writer went to Irkutsk, where he entered the city university at the Faculty of History and Philology. Already during his student years, he began to show interest in writing and journalism. The local youth newspaper became a platform for testing the pen. His essay “I forgot to ask Leshka” attracted the attention of the editor-in-chief. They paid attention to young Rasputin, and he himself realized that he would write, he was good at it.
After graduating from university, the young man continues to work in newspapers in Irkutsk and Krasnoyarsk and writes his first stories, but has not yet been published. In 1965, at a meeting of young writers in Chita, a famous Soviet writer Vladimir Alekseevich Chivilikhin. He really liked the works of the aspiring writer and decided to patronize them, becoming “ godfather"Rasputin the writer.
The rise of Valentin Grigorievich occurred rapidly - two years after meeting with Chivilikhin, he became a member of the Union of Writers of the USSR, which was the official recognition of the writer at the state level.
Key works of the author
Rasputin’s debut book was published in 1966 under the title “The Land Near the Sky.” The following year, the story “Money for Maria” was published, which brought popularity to the new star Soviet prose. In his work, the author tells the story of Maria and Kuzma, who live in a remote Siberian village. The couple have four children and a debt of seven hundred rubles, which they took out from the collective farm to build a house. To improve financial situation family, Maria gets a job in a store. Several sellers in front of her have already been jailed for embezzlement, so the woman is very worried. After a long time, an audit is carried out in the store and a shortage of 1,000 rubles is discovered! Maria needs to collect this money in a week, otherwise she will be sent to prison. The amount is unaffordable, but Kuzma and Maria decide to fight to the end, they begin to borrow money from their fellow villagers... and here many with whom they lived shoulder to shoulder show up with new side.
Reference. Valentin Rasputin is called one of the significant representatives of “village prose”. This trend in Russian literature was formed by the mid-60s and combined works depicting modern village life and traditional folk values. The flagships of village prose are Alexander Solzhenitsyn (“ Matrenin Dvor"), Vasily Shukshin (“Lyubavins”), Viktor Astafiev (“Tsar Fish”), Valentin Rasputin (“Farewell to Matera”, “Money for Maria”) and others.
The golden era of Rasputin's creativity was the 70s. During this decade, his most recognizable works were written - the story “French Lessons”, the stories “Live and Remember”, “Farewell to Matera”. In each work the central characters were ordinary people and their difficult fates.
Thus, in “French Lessons” the main character is 11-year-old Leshka, a smart boy from the village. There is no secondary school in his homeland, so his mother raises money to send her son to study in the regional center. The boy has a hard time in the city - if there were hungry days in the village, then here they are almost always, because it is much more difficult to get food in the city, you have to buy everything. Due to anemia, the boy needs to buy milk for a ruble every day, often it becomes his only “food” for the whole day. The older boys showed Leshka how to earn quick money by playing “chika”. Every time he won his treasured ruble and left, but one day passion took precedence over principle...
In the story “Live and Remember,” the problem of desertion is acutely raised. The Soviet reader is accustomed to seeing a deserter exclusively in dark color- this is a person without moral principles, vicious, cowardly, capable of betraying and hiding behind the backs of others. What if this black-and-white division is unfair? Rasputin’s main character Andrei once in 1944 did not return to the army, he just wanted to look home for a day, to his beloved wife Nastya, and then there was no return and the bitter mark of “deserter” gaped on him.
The story “Farewell to Matera” shows the life of the entire Siberian village of Matera. Locals are forced to leave their homes because a hydroelectric power station will be built in their place. The settlement will soon be flooded, and the inhabitants will be sent to the cities. Everyone perceives this news differently. Young people are mostly happy; for them the city is incredible adventure and new opportunities. Adults are skeptical, reluctantly part with their established life and understand that no one is waiting for them in the city. It’s hardest for the old people, for whom Matera is their whole life and they can’t imagine any other way. Exactly older generation become central character story, its spirit, pain and soul.
In the 80s and 90s, Rasputin continued to work hard, from his pen came the story “Fire”, the stories “Natasha”, “What to convey to the crow?”, “Live a century - love a century” and much more. Perestroika and forced oblivion of “village prose” and village life Rasputin took it painfully. But he did not stop writing. The work “Ivan’s Daughter, Ivan’s Mother,” published in 2003, had a great resonance. It reflected the writer’s decadent mood associated with the collapse big country, morals, values. The main character of the story, a young teenage girl, is raped by a group of thugs. She is not allowed out of the men's dormitory for several days, and then she is thrown out into the street, beaten, intimidated, and morally broken. He and his mother go to the investigator, but justice is in no hurry to punish the rapists. Having lost hope, mom decides to commit suicide. She makes a sawed-off shotgun and waits for the offenders at the entrance.
The last book Rasputina was created in tandem with publicist Viktor Kozhemyako and presents a kind of autobiography in conversations and memories. The work was published in 2013 under the title “These Twenty Killing Years.”
Ideology and socio-political activities
It is unfair to talk about the life of Valentin Rasputin without mentioning his active social and political activities. He did this not for profit, but only because he was not silent and could not observe the life of his beloved country and people from the outside.
Valentin Grigorievich was very upset by the news of “perestroika”. With the support of like-minded people, Rasputin wrote collective anti-perestroika letters, hoping to preserve “ great country" Later he became less critical, but finally the new system and new government I couldn't accept it. And he never bowed to power, despite generous gifts from it.
“It always seemed self-evident, laid down in the foundation of human life, that the world is arranged in equilibrium... Now this saving shore has disappeared somewhere, floated away like a mirage, moved away into endless distances. And people now live not in anticipation of salvation, but in anticipation of catastrophe.”
Rasputin paid a lot of attention to issues of environmental protection. The writer saw the saving of the people not only in providing them with work and a living wage, but also in preserving their moral and spiritual appearance, whose heart is Mother Nature. He was especially concerned about the issue of Lake Baikal; Rasputin even met with Russian President Vladimir Putin about this.
Death and memory
Valentin Rasputin passed away on March 14, 2015, the day before his 78th birthday. At this point, he had already buried his wife and daughter, the latter was a successful organist and died in a plane crash. The day after the death of the great writer, mourning was declared throughout the Irkutsk region.
Biography of Valentin Rasputin: milestones of life, key works and public position
4.5 (90%) 2 votesBiography of the writer
Valentin Grigorievich Rasputin
15.03.1937 - 14.03.2015
Russian writer, publicist, public figure, full member of the Academy Russian literature, honorary professor of Krasnoyarsk pedagogical university them. V. P. Astafieva, honorary citizen of the city of Irkutsk, honorary citizen of the Irkutsk region. Author of many articles, dedicated to literature, art, ecology, preservation of Russian culture, preservation of Lake Baikal. Novels, short stories, essays and articles by V.G. Rasputin's works have been translated into 40 languages of the world. Many works have been staged in theaters across the country and filmed.
Most famous works : stories “Money for Maria” (1967), “Deadline” (1970), “Live and Remember” (1974), “Farewell to Matera” (1976), “Ivan’s Daughter, Ivan’s Mother” (2003); stories “Meeting” (1965), “Rudolfio” (1966), “Vasily and Vasilisa” (1967), “French Lessons” (1973), “Live a Century, Love a Century” (1981), “Natasha” (1981), “What should I tell the crow?” (1981); book of essays “Siberia, Siberia...” (1991).
V. G. Rasputin was born on March 15, 1937 in the village of Ust-Uda. Mother - Nina Ivanovna Chernova, father - Grigory Nikitich Rasputin. The building of the clinic where the future writer was born has been preserved. When flooded, it was dismantled and moved to the new village of Ust-Uda. In 1939, the parents moved closer to their father’s relatives, to Atalanka. The writer's paternal grandmother is Maria Gerasimovna (nee Vologzhina), grandfather is Nikita Yakovlevich Rasputin. The boy did not know his maternal grandparents; his mother was an orphan.
From 1st to 4th grade Valentin Rasputin studied in Atalanskaya elementary school. From 1948 to 1954 - in Ust-Udinskaya high school. Received a matriculation certificate with only A's and a silver medal. In 1954 he became a student at the Faculty of History and Philology at Irkutsk State University. On March 30, 1957, the first article by Valentin Rasputin, “There is no time to be bored,” about the collection of scrap metal by students of school No. 46 in Irkutsk, appeared in the newspaper “Soviet Youth.” After graduating from the university, V. G. Rasputin remained a staff member of the newspaper “Soviet Youth”. In 1961 he got married. His wife was Svetlana Ivanovna Molchanova, a student at the Faculty of Physics and Mathematics at ISU, eldest daughter famous writer I. I. Molchanov-Sibirsky.
In the fall of 1962, V. G. Rasputin, his wife and son, left for Krasnoyarsk. Works first in the newspaper “Krasnoyarsky Rabochiy”, then in the newspaper “Krasnoryasky Komsomolets”. Vivid, emotional essays by V. G. Rasputin, distinguished by the author’s style, were written in Krasnoyarsk. Thanks to these essays, the young journalist received an invitation to the Chita seminar of young writers of Siberia and Far East(autumn 1965). Writer V. A. Chivilikhin noted the artistic talent of the aspiring writer. In the next two years, three books by Valentin Rasputin were published: “Bonfires of New Cities” (Krasnoyarsk, 1966), “The Land Near the Sky” (Irkutsk, 1966), “A Man from This World” (Krasnoyarsk, 1967).
In 1966, V. G. Rasputin left the editorial office of the newspaper “Krasnoyarsk Komsomolets” and moved to Irkutsk. In 1967 he was admitted to the Union of Writers of the USSR. In 1969 he was elected a member of the bureau of the Irkutsk Writers' Organization. In 1978 he joined the editorial board of the series “Literary Monuments of Siberia” of the East Siberian Book Publishing House. In 1990-1993 was the compiler of the newspaper “Literary Irkutsk”. On the initiative of the writer, since 1995 in Irkutsk and since 1997 in the Irkutsk region, Days of Russian spirituality and culture “Shine of Russia” have been held, Literary evenings"This summer in Irkutsk." In 2009, V. G. Rasputin participated in the filming of the film “River of Life” (dir. S. Miroshnichenko), dedicated to the flooding of villages during the launch of the Bratsk and Boguchansk hydroelectric power stations.
The writer died in Moscow on March 14, 2015. He was buried on March 19, 2015 in the necropolis of the Znamensky Monastery (Irkutsk).
Valentin Grigoryevich Rasputin was awarded the 1977 USSR State Prize in the field of literature, art and architecture for the story “Live and Remember”, the 1987 USSR State Prize in the field of literature and architecture for the story “Fire”, the State Prize of the Russian Federation in the field of literature and art 2012 city, Prize of the Irkutsk OK Komsomol named after. I. Utkin (1968), Certificate of Honor of the Soviet Peace Committee and the Soviet Peace Fund (1983), Prizes from the magazine “Our Contemporary” (1974, 1985, 1988), Prize named after. Leo Tolstoy (1992), Prize named after. St. Innocent of Irkutsk (1995), Moscow-Penne Prize (1996), Alexander Solzhenitsyn Prize (2000), Literary Prize them. F. M. Dostoevsky (2001), Prize named after. Alexander Nevsky “Russia’s Faithful Sons” (2004), Award “Best foreign novel. XXI century" (China) (2005), Literary Prize named after. S. Aksakov (2005), Prize of the International Unity Foundation Orthodox peoples(2011), Award " Yasnaya Polyana"(2012). Hero of Socialist Labor with the presentation of the Order of Lenin and the hammer and sickle gold medal (1987). Other state awards writer: Order of the Badge of Honor (1971), Order of the Red Banner of Labor (1981), Order of Lenin (1984), Order of Merit for the Fatherland, IV degree (2002), Order of Merit for the Fatherland, III degree (2008) .
March 15. Born into the peasant family of Grigory Nikitich (born in 1913) and Nina Ivanovna Rasputin in the village of Ust-Uda, Ust-Udinsky district, Irkutsk region. My childhood years were spent in the village of Atalanka, Ust-Udinsky district.
Study time at Atalan Primary School.
Study time in grades 5-10 at Ust-Udinsk secondary school.
Studying at the Faculty of History and Philology of Irkutsk State University. A. A. Zhdanova.
March. Start of work as a freelance correspondent for the newspaper “Soviet Youth”.
January. He was accepted into the editorial staff of the newspaper “Soviet Youth” as a librarian.
Continues to work for the newspaper “Soviet Youth”. Published under the pseudonym V. Kairsky.
January-March. In the first issue of the anthology "Angara" the first story "I forgot to ask Alyoshka..." was published (in later editions "I forgot to ask Alyoshka...").
August. He resigned from the editorial office of the newspaper “Soviet Youth” and took up the position of editor of literary and dramatic programs at the Irkutsk television studio.
November 21. Birth of son Sergei.
July. He was fired from the Irkutsk television studio together with S. Ioffe for a program about the fate of the Siberian writer P. Petrov. Restored with the intervention of L. Shinkarev, but did not work in the studio.
August. Departure for Krasnoyarsk with his wife Svetlana Ivanovna Rasputina. Hired as a literary employee of the Krasnoyarsk Worker newspaper.
February. Moved to the position of special correspondent at the editorial office of the Krasnoyarsky Komsomolets newspaper.
September. Participation in the Chita zonal seminar for beginning writers, meeting with V. A. Chivilikhin, who noted the talent of the beginning author.
March. He left the editorial office of the newspaper “Krasnoyarsk Komsomolets” for professional literary work.
Returned with his family to Irkutsk.
In Irkutsk, at the East Siberian Book Publishing House, a book of essays and stories “The Land Near the Sky” was published.
May. Accepted into the USSR Writers' Union.
July-August. The story “Money for Maria” was first published in the Angara almanac No. 4.
The Krasnoyarsk book publishing house published a book of short stories, “A Man from This World.”
Elected to the editorial board of the anthology “Angara” (Irkutsk) (since 1971 the almanac has been titled “Siberia”).
Elected a member of the bureau of the Irkutsk Writers' Organization.
The Irkutsk television studio showed the play “Money for Maria” based on the story of the same name by V. Rasputin.
March 24-27. Delegate to the III Congress of Writers of the RSFSR.
July-August. The first publication of the story “The Deadline” appeared in the magazine “Our Contemporary” No. 7-8.
Elected to the audit commission of the Writers' Union of the RSFSR.
A trip to Frunze took place as part of the club of the Soviet-Bulgarian youth creative intelligentsia.
May. He made a trip to Bulgaria as part of the club of the Soviet-Bulgarian youth creative intelligentsia.
May 8. Daughter Maria was born.
The story “Live and Remember” was published for the first time in the magazine “Our Contemporary” No. 10-11.
The writer's father, Grigory Nikitich, has died.
Member of the editorial board of the newspaper Literary Russia.
May. Traveled to the Hungarian People's Republic as part of the delegation of the USSR Writers' Union.
December 15-18. Delegate to the IV Congress of Writers of the RSFSR.
June 21-25. Delegate to the VI Congress of Writers of the USSR.
Elected to the Audit Commission of the USSR Writers' Union.
July. A trip to Finland with prose writer V. Krupin.
September. A trip to the Federal Republic of Germany together with Yu. Trifonov to the book fair in Frankfurt am Main.
The story “Farewell to Matera” was first published in the magazine “Our Contemporary” No. 10-11.
September. Participation in the first world book fair (Moscow).
Elected as a deputy of the Irkutsk Regional Council people's deputies sixteenth convocation.
Moscow Theater named after. M. N. Ermolova staged the play “Money for Maria” based on the story of the same name.
The Moscow Art Theater staged the play “The Deadline” based on the play by V. Rasputin.
March. Traveled to the GDR at the invitation of the publishing house Volk und Welt.
Released on screens across the country TV movie“French Lessons” directed by E. Tashkov.
The VAAP Publishing House (Moscow) released the play “Money for Maria.”
October. Trip to Czechoslovakia as part of the delegation of the USSR Writers Union.
December. A trip to West Berlin for creative purposes.
March. Traveled to France as part of the VLAP delegation.
October-November. Trip to Italy for "Days Soviet Union"in Turin.
Elected as a deputy of the Irkutsk Regional Council of People's Deputies of the seventeenth convocation.
December. Delegate to the V Congress of Writers of the RSFSR. Elected to the board of the RSFSR Joint Venture.
June 30-July 4. Delegate to the VII Congress of Writers of the USSR.
Elected to the board of the USSR Joint Venture.
Released feature film director I. Poplavskaya “Vasily and Vasilisa”.
Participation in a visiting meeting of the Council on Russian Prose of the Union of Writers of the RSFSR. The results of the work and V. Rasputin’s speech were published in the magazine “North” No. 12.
In the almanac “Siberia” No. 5 the story “What to convey to the crow?” is published.
The feature film “Farewell” directed by L. Shepitko and E. Klimov was released.
June 1-3. Delegate to the IV Congress of the All-Russian Society for the Protection of Historical and Cultural Monuments (Novgorod).
A trip to Germany to a meeting organized by the Interlit-82 club.
Came out documentary East Siberian studio “Irkutsk with us”, filmed according to the script by V. Rasputin.
Current page: 1 (book total 91 pages) [available reading passage: 51 pages]
Annotation
Valentin Grigorievich Rasputin is a Russian prose writer whose works have become classics Russian literature, a writer of rare artistic talent. His language is living, precise and bright, a precious instrument with which Rasputin creates music. native land and his people, endowing his best heroes with the ability to feel the “endless, furious grace” of the universe, “all the radiance and all the movement of the world, all its inexplicable beauty and passion...”.
Novels and stories
MONEY FOR MARIA
DEADLINE
LIVE AND REMEMBER
FAREWELL TO MOTHER
IVAN'S DAUGHTER, IVAN'S MOTHER
Part one
Part two
Part three
Stories
MOM HAS GONE SOMEWHERE
RUDOLFIO
VASILY AND VASILISA
DOWNSTREAM AND UPSTREAM
FRENCH LESSONS
WHAT TO TELL THE CROW?
THE AGE OF LIVE – THE AGE OF LOVE
"I CAN'T..."
AUNTY ULITA
IN THE HOSPITAL
TO THE SAME LAND
WOMEN'S TALK
UNEXPECTEDLY
NEW PROFESSION
AT HOMELAND
IN BAD WEATHER
Novels and stories
Rasputin Valentin
Stories
MONEY FOR MARIA
Kuzma woke up because a car turning a corner blinded the windows with its headlights and the room became completely light.
The light, swaying, touched the ceiling, went down the wall, turned to the right and disappeared. A minute later, the car also fell silent, it became dark and quiet again, and now, in complete darkness and silence, it seemed that this was some kind of secret sign.
Kuzma stood up and lit a cigarette. He sat on a stool by the window, looked through the glass at the street and puffed on a cigarette, as if he himself was giving signals to someone. As he took a drag, he saw in the window his tired face, haggard over the last few days, which then immediately disappeared, and there was nothing but endlessly deep darkness - not a single light or sound. Kuzma thought about the snow: probably by morning he will get ready and go, go, go - like grace.
Then he lay down again next to Maria and fell asleep. He dreamed that he was driving the very car that woke him up. The headlights do not shine, and the car drives in complete darkness. But then they suddenly flash and illuminate the house near which the car stops. Kuzma leaves the cab and knocks on the window.
- What do you need? - they ask him from inside.
“Money for Maria,” he replies.
They bring him the money, and the car moves on, again in complete darkness. But as soon as she comes across a house in which there is money, some unknown device is triggered and the headlights light up. He knocks on the window again and is asked again:
- What do you need?
– Money for Maria.
He wakes up a second time.
Darkness. It’s still night, there’s still not a light or a sound around, and in the midst of this darkness and silence it’s hard to believe that nothing will happen, that dawn will come in its own time, and morning will come.
Kuzma lies and thinks, there is no more sleep. From somewhere above, like unexpected rain, whistling sounds fall jet plane and immediately subside, moving away after the plane. Silence again, but now it seems deceptive, as if something was about to happen. And this feeling of anxiety does not go away immediately.
Kuzma is thinking: to go or not to go? He thought about this yesterday and the day before, but then there was still time for reflection, and he could not decide anything definitively, now there is no more time. If you don't go in the morning, it will be late. Now we need to tell ourselves: yes or no? We must go, of course. Drive. Stop suffering. Here he has no one else to ask from. In the morning he will get up and immediately go to the bus. He closes his eyes - now he can sleep. Sleep, sleep, sleep... Kuzma tries to cover himself with sleep like a blanket, to immerse himself in it, but nothing works. It seems to him that he is sleeping by the fire: if you turn one side, it’s cold on the other. He sleeps and doesn’t sleep, he dreams about the car again, but he understands that it doesn’t cost him anything to open his eyes now and finally wake up. He turns on the other side - it is still night, which cannot be tamed by any night shifts.
Morning. Kuzma gets up and looks out the window: there is no snow, but it’s cloudy, it could start falling at any minute. The cloudy, unkind dawn spreads reluctantly, as if through force. With his head down, a dog ran in front of the windows and turned into an alley. No people are visible. A gust of wind suddenly hits the wall from the north side and immediately subsides. A minute later there was another blow, then another.
Kuzma goes to the kitchen and says to Maria, who is fiddling around the stove:
– Pack me something with you, I’ll go.
- To the city? – Maria is alarmed.
- To the city.
Maria wipes her hands on her apron and sits down in front of the stove, squinting from the heat washing over her face.
“He won’t give it,” she says.
– Do you know where the envelope with the address is? – asks Kuzma.
- Somewhere in the upper room, if alive. The guys are sleeping. Kuzma finds the envelope and returns to the kitchen.
“He won’t give it,” Maria repeats.
Kuzma sits down at the table and eats in silence. He himself doesn’t know, no one knows, whether he will give or not. It's getting hot in the kitchen. A cat rubs against Kuzma’s legs, and he pushes it away.
– Will you come back yourself? - asks Maria.
He puts the plate away and thinks about it. The cat, arching its back, sharpens its claws in the corner, then again approaches Kuzma and clings to his feet. He gets up and, after a pause, not finding what to say goodbye, goes to the door.
He gets dressed and hears Maria crying. It's time for him to leave - the bus leaves early. And let Maria cry if she can’t do otherwise.
There is a wind outside - everything is swaying, groaning, and rattling.
The wind blows on the bus's forehead and penetrates inside through the cracks in the windows. The bus turns sideways to the wind, and the windows immediately begin to jingle, they are hit by leaves picked up from the ground and invisible pebbles as small as sand. Cold. Apparently, this wind will bring with it frosts, snow, and then winter is not far away, it’s already the end of October.
Kuzma sits in the last seat by the window. There are not many people on the bus, there are empty seats in the front, but he doesn’t want to get up and cross. He pulled his head into his shoulders and, with a ruffled face, looks out the window. There, outside the window, for twenty kilometers in a row, the same thing: wind, wind, wind - wind in the forest, wind in the field, wind in the village.
The people on the bus are silent - the bad weather has made them gloomy and taciturn. If anyone exchanges a word, it will be in a low voice, one cannot understand. I don't even want to think. Everyone sits and just grabs the backs of the front seats, when they throw up, they make themselves comfortable - everyone is busy only with driving.
On the rise, Kuzma tries to distinguish between the howl of the wind and the howl of the engine, but they merged into one thing - just a howl, that’s all. The village begins immediately after the rise. The bus stops near the collective farm office, but there are no passengers here, no one gets on. Through Kuzma’s window he can see a long empty street along which the wind rushes like through a chimney.
The bus starts moving again. The driver, still a young guy, looks over his shoulder at the passengers and reaches into his pocket for a cigarette. Kuzma joyfully realizes: he had completely forgotten about the cigarettes. A minute later, blue wisps of smoke float across the bus.
Again the village. The driver stops the bus near the cafeteria and gets up. “Break,” he says. “Whoever is going to have breakfast, let’s go, otherwise we’ll have to go on and on.”
Kuzma doesn’t feel like eating, and he goes out to warm up. Next to the dining room there is a store, exactly the same as the one they have in the village. Kuzma climbs onto the high porch and opens the door. Everything is the same as theirs: on one side there are food products, on the other there are manufactured goods. Three women are chatting about something at the counter; the saleswoman, with her arms crossed over her chest, lazily listens to them. She younger than Maria, and apparently everything is fine with her: she is calm.
Kuzma approaches the hot stove and stretches his arms over it. From here you will be able to see through the window when the driver leaves the dining room and Kuzma has time to run there. The wind slams the shutter, the saleswoman and the women turn around and look at Kuzma. He wants to go up to the saleswoman and tell her that they have exactly the same store in their village and that his Maria also stood behind the counter for a year and a half. But he doesn't move. The wind slams the shutter again, and the women again turn around and look at Kuzma.
Kuzma knows well that the wind only rose today and that it was calm at night when he got up, and yet he cannot get rid of the feeling that the wind has been blowing for a long time, all these days.
Five days ago a man of about forty or a little older came, looking neither urban nor rural, in light raincoat, V tarpaulin boots and wearing a cap. Maria was not at home. The man ordered her not to open the store tomorrow; he came to do the accounting.
The next day the audit began. At lunchtime, when Kuzma looked into the store, it was full of chaos. Maria and the auditor pulled out all the cans, boxes and packs onto the counter, counted and recounted them ten times, they brought large scales from the warehouse and piled bags of sugar, salt and cereals on them, collected butter from the wrapping paper with a knife, rattled empty bottles, dragging them from one corner to another, they picked out the remains of sticky candies from the box. The auditor, with a pencil behind his ear, ran briskly between the mountains of cans and boxes, counted them out loud, almost without looking, fingered the abacus with almost all five fingers, named some numbers and, in order to write them down, shaking his head, deftly dropped them into his hand. hand pencil. It was obvious that he knew his business well.
Maria came home late, she looked exhausted.
- How are you doing? – Kuzma asked carefully.
- Yes, no way yet. There are still manufactured goods left for tomorrow. It will be tomorrow somehow.
She yelled at the guys who had done something, and immediately lay down. Kuzma went outside. Somewhere a pig carcass was being burned, and a strong, pleasant smell spread throughout the village. The harvest is over, the potatoes have been dug up, and now people are preparing for the holiday and waiting for winter. The busy, hot time is behind us, the off-season has arrived, when you can take a walk, look around, and think. It’s quiet for now, but in a week the village will burst into life, people will remember all the holidays, old and new, they will walk, hugging, from house to house, they will scream, they will sing, they will again remember the war and at the table they will forgive each other all their grievances.
The auditor was silent.
- So tell me, where did so much come from? A thousand, or what?
“A thousand,” confirmed the auditor.
- New?
– Now the old accounts are gone.
“But this is crazy money,” Kuzma said thoughtfully. “I haven’t held that much in my hands.” We took out a loan from the collective farm of seven hundred rubles for the house when we put it up, and that was a lot, until today didn't pay. And here's a thousand. I understand, you can make a mistake, thirty, forty, well, maybe a hundred rubles will come up there, but where does the thousand come from? You've probably been at this job for a long time, you should know how it works.
“I don’t know,” the auditor shook his head.
– Couldn’t the Selpovo people with the texture heat it up?
- Don't know. Anything could have happened. I see she has little education.
- What kind of education is there - literacy! With such an education, you only count your pay, not government money. How many times have I told her: don’t interfere with your own sleigh. There was no one to work, so they persuaded her. And then everything seemed to go well.
– Did she always receive the goods herself or not? – asked the auditor.
- No. Whoever goes, I ordered with him.
- Too bad. This is not possible.
- Here you go…
– And the most important thing: there was no accounting for a whole year. They fell silent, and in the silence that followed, one could hear Maria still sobbing in the bedroom. Somewhere a song burst out of an open door onto the street, hummed like a flying bumblebee, and died down - after it, Maria’s sobs seemed loud and gurgled like stones falling into the water.
- What will happen now? - Kuzma asked, it was unclear who he was addressing - to himself or to the auditor.
The inspector glanced sideways at the guys.
- Get out of here! – Kuzma tsked at them, and they scurried off single file to their room.
“I’m moving on tomorrow,” the inspector began quietly, moving closer to Kuzma. – I will need to do accounting in two more stores. This is about five days of work. And five days later...” He hesitated. – In a word, if you deposit money during this time... Do you understand me?
“Why don’t you understand,” Kuzma responded.
“I see: kids,” said the auditor. - Well, they’ll convict her and give her a sentence...
Kuzma looked at him with a pitiful, twitching smile.
“Just understand: no one should know about this.” I don't have the right to do that. I take risks myself.
- I see, I see.
– Collect money, and we will try to hush this matter up.
“A thousand rubles,” said Kuzma.
- I see, one thousand rubles, one thousand. We'll collect it. You can't judge her. I have lived with her for many years, we have children.
The inspector stood up.
“Thank you,” Kuzma said and, nodding, shook the inspector’s hand. He left. In the courtyard behind him, the gate creaked, footsteps sounded and died away in front of the windows.
Kuzma was left alone. He went to the kitchen, sat down in front of the stove, which had not been lit since the day before, and, with his head down, sat for a long, long time. He didn’t think about anything - he no longer had the strength for this, he froze, and only his head sank lower and lower. An hour passed, then two, and night fell.
Kuzma slowly raised his head. Vitka stood in front of him, barefoot and wearing a T-shirt.
-What do you want?
- Dad, will everything be okay with us? Kuzma nodded. But Vitka did not leave, he needed his father to say it in words.
- But of course! – Kuzma answered. “We will turn the whole earth upside down, but we will not give up our mother.” We are five men, we can do it.
- Can I tell the guys that everything will be fine with us?
“Say it: we’ll turn the whole earth upside down, but we won’t give up our mother.”
Vitka, believing, left.
In the morning Maria did not get up. Kuzma got up, woke up the older kids for school, and poured them yesterday's milk. Maria lay on the bed, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, and did not move. She had not undressed, she was lying in the dress she had come from the store in, her face was noticeably swollen. Before leaving, Kuzma stood over her and said:
- If you go away a little, get up. It’ll be okay, people will help. You shouldn't die prematurely because of this.
He went to the office to warn that he would not be coming to work.
The chairman was alone in his office. He stood up, gave Kuzma his hand and, looking intently at him, sighed.
- What? – Kuzma didn’t understand.
“I heard about Maria,” answered the chairman. “Now the whole village probably knows.”
“You can’t hide it anyway, so be it,” Kuzma waved his hand lostly.
- What will you do? – asked the chairman.
- Don't know. I don't know where to go.
- We have to do something.
“You can see for yourself that I can’t give you a loan now,” said the chairman. – The reporting year is just around the corner. The reporting year will end, then we’ll consult, maybe we’ll give it. Let's give it - what's there! In the meantime, borrow against a loan, everything will be easier, not under empty space you ask.
- Thank you.
– I need your “thank you”! How is Maria?
- You go tell her.
- I must say. - At the door, Kuzma remembered: “I won’t go to work today.”
- Go, go. What kind of worker are you now? Found something to talk about!
Maria was still lying there. Kuzma sat down next to her on the bed and squeezed her shoulder, but she did not respond, did not flinch, as if she had not felt anything.
“The chairman says that after the reporting meeting he will give a loan,” said Kuzma.
She moved weakly and froze again.
– Do you hear? – he asked.
Something suddenly happened to Maria: she jumped up, wrapped her arms around Kuzma’s neck and threw him onto the bed.
- Kuzma! – she whispered breathlessly. - Kuzma, save me, do something, Kuzma!
He tried to break free, but could not. She fell on him, squeezed his neck, and covered his face with her face.
- My dear! – she whispered frantically. - Save me, Kuzma, don’t give me to them!
He finally broke free.
“Stupid woman,” he wheezed. -Are you crazy?
- Kuzma! – she called weakly.
-What did you come up with? The loan will be here, everything will be fine, but you’ve gone crazy.
- Kuzma!
- Here I am.
He kicked off his boots and lay down next to her. Maria was trembling, her shoulders twitching and bouncing. He hugged her and began to rub her shoulder with his wide palm - back and forth, back and forth. She snuggled closer to him. He moved his hand over and over her shoulder until she became quiet. He lay next to her for a while, then got up. She was sleeping.
Kuzma thought: you can sell the cow and hay, but then the children will be left without milk.
There was nothing more to sell from the farm. The cow should also be left for the last case, when there is no way out. This means that you don’t have a penny of your own money, everything will have to be borrowed. He didn’t know how he could borrow a thousand rubles; this amount seemed so huge to him that he kept confusing it with old money, and then he realized it and, getting cold, cut himself off. He admitted that such money existed, just as millions and billions existed, but the fact that it could relate to one person, and especially to him, seemed to Kuzma to be some kind of terrible mistake, which - if he had just started looking for money - would no longer exist. to correct. And he did not move for a long time - it seemed that he was waiting for a miracle, when someone would come and say that they were playing a joke on him and that this whole story with the shortage did not concern him or Maria. There were so many people around him that she really didn’t touch!
It’s good that the driver drove the bus right to the station and Kuzma didn’t have to get there in the wind, which just started blowing from the house and never stopped. Here, at the station, sheet metal rattles on the roofs, paper and cigarette butts are swept along the street, and people are milling about in such a way that it is impossible to understand whether they are being carried by the wind, or they still cope with it and run where they need to go on their own. The voice of the announcer announcing the arrival and departure of trains is torn to pieces, crumpled, and impossible to understand. The whistles of shunting steam locomotives and the shrill whistles of electric locomotives seem alarming, like signals of danger that must be expected any minute.
An hour before the train, Kuzma stands in line for tickets. The cash register has not yet been opened, and people stand, suspiciously watching everyone who passes forward. The minute hand on the round electric clock above the cash register window jumps with a ringing sound from division to division, and every time people lift their heads and suffer.
Finally the cash register opens. The queue shrinks and freezes. The first head pokes through the cash register window; two, three, four minutes pass, and the line does not move.
- What is there - bargaining, or what? - someone shouts from behind.
The head crawls back out, and the woman who was first in line turns around: “It turns out there are no tickets.”
– Citizens, there are no tickets for general or reserved seat carriages! - the cashier shouts.
The queue clumps, but does not disperse.
“They don’t know how to get money,” the fat woman with a red face and a red scarf says indignantly. – We’ve made a lot of soft carriages – who needs them? What about a plane, and even then all the tickets on it cost the same.
“On airplanes and fly,” the cashier answers kindly.
- And we’ll fly! - the aunt is seething. - Once again, you pull two such tricks, and not a single person will come to you. You have no conscience.
- Fly for your own health - we won’t pay!
“You’ll cry, my dear, you’ll cry when you’re left without work.”
Kuzma moves away from the cash register. Now the next train is about five hours away, no less. Or maybe I should still take it soft? To hell with him! It is still unknown whether there will be simple seats on that train or not - maybe there will also be some soft ones? You'll be waiting in vain. “When you take off your head, you don’t cry over your hair,” recalls Kuzma for some reason. In fact, an extra five will not make a difference now. You need a thousand - why cry for five now?
Kuzma returns to the cash register. The line has parted and there is an open book in front of the cashier.
“I have to go to the city,” Kuzma tells her.
“Tickets only for soft carriages,” the cashier seems to be reading, without raising her eyes from the book.
- Let's go somewhere to eat.
She marks what she has read with a ruler, takes out a ticket from somewhere on the side and puts it under the composter.
Now Kuzma listens for his train to be called. The train will arrive, he will board a soft carriage and will reach the city with all comforts. There will be a city in the morning. He will go to his brother and take from him the money that is missing up to a thousand. My brother will probably take them off the book. Before leaving, they will sit, drink a bottle of vodka as a farewell, and then Kuzma will head back to be in time for the inspector’s return. And everything will go as it should again for him and Maria, they will live like other people. When this trouble is over and Maria moves away, they will continue to raise the children, go to the cinema with them - after all, their own collective farm: five men and a mother. They all still have time to live. In the evenings, going to bed, he, Kuzma, as before, will flirt with Maria, spank her on a soft spot, and she will swear, but not angrily, for fun, because she herself loves it when he fools around. How much do they need for everything to be good? Kuzma comes to his senses. A lot, oh a lot - a thousand rubles. But now it’s not a thousand anymore, more than half out of a thousand he got it in half. He walked around humiliated himself, made promises where necessary and not needed, reminded about the loan, fearing that they would not give it, and then, ashamed, took pieces of paper that burned his hands and which were still not enough.
To the first, he, like probably everyone else in the village, went to Evgeniy Nikolaevich.
“Ah, Kuzma,” Evgeny Nikolaevich met him, opening the door. - Come in, come in. Have a seat. And I thought that you were angry with me - you didn’t come.
– Why should I be angry with you, Evgeniy Nikolaevich?
- I don’t know. Not everyone talks about grievances. Yes, sit down. How's life?
- Nothing.
- Well, well, be poor. Moved to a new house and nothing happened?
- Yes, we’ve been in the new house for a year now. What's there to brag about now?
- I don’t know. You don’t come in, you don’t tell.
Evgeniy Nikolaevich removed the open books from the table without closing them and moved them to the shelf. He is younger than Kuzma, but in the village everyone calls him, even the old people, because for fifteen years now he has been the director of a school, first a seven-year school, then an eight-year school. Evgeniy Nikolaevich was born and raised here, and after graduating from college, he did not forget peasant work: he mows, does carpentry, runs a large farm, when he has time, goes hunting and fishing with the men. Kuzma immediately went to Evgeniy Nikolaevich because he knew he had money. He lives alone with his wife - she is also his teacher - their salary is good, but there is nowhere to spend it, everything is their own - the garden, milk, and meat.
Seeing that Evgeny Nikolaevich was collecting books, Kuzma stood up.
- Maybe I’m not in time?
- Sit, sit, it’s not the right time! – Evgeniy Nikolaevich held him back. - There is time. When we are not at work, we have our own time, not government time. This means we should spend it as we please, right?
- As if.
– Why “as if”? Speak the truth. There is time. You can put some tea here.
“No need for tea,” Kuzma refused. - Don't want. I've been drinking recently.
- Well, look. They say it is easier to treat a well-fed guest. Is it true?
- Is it true.
Kuzma shifted in his chair and decided:
– I, Evgeny Nikolaevich, came to you here one by one on business.
- On business? – Evgeniy Nikolaevich, being wary, sat down at the table. - Well, then go ahead and talk. A matter is a matter, it must be resolved. As they say, strike while the iron is hot.
“I don’t know how to start,” Kuzma hesitated.
- Speak, speak.
- Yes, the thing is this: I came to ask you for money.
- How much do you need? – Yevgeny Nikolaevich yawned.
- I need a lot. How much will you give?
- Well, what - ten, twenty, thirty?
“No,” Kuzma shook his head. - I need a lot. I'll tell you why, so it's clear. My Maria had a big shortage - maybe you know?
- I don’t know anything.
- Yesterday the audit was completed - and now they presented it, that means.
Evgeniy Nikolaevich drummed his knuckles on the table.
“What a nuisance,” he said.
- It’s a nuisance, I say, what a nuisance. How did she do it?
- That's it.
They fell silent. I could hear an alarm clock ticking somewhere; Kuzma looked for him with his eyes, but did not find him. The alarm clock was knocking, almost choking. Evgeniy Nikolaevich drummed his fingers on the table again. Kuzma looked at him; he was wincing slightly.
“They can judge,” said Evgeniy Nikolaevich.
“That’s why I’m looking for money, so that I don’t get judged.”
- They can still judge. Waste is waste.
- No, they can’t. She didn't take it from there, I know.
– What are you telling me? – Evgeniy Nikolaevich was offended. - I'm not a judge. You tell them. I say this because you need to be careful: otherwise you will put money in and they will judge you.
- No. “Kuzma suddenly felt that he himself was afraid of this, and said more to himself than to him. - Now they are watching, so that it’s not in vain. We did not use this money, we do not need it. She has this deficiency because she is illiterate, and not somehow.
“They don’t understand this,” Evgeniy Nikolaevich waved his hand.
Kuzma remembered about the loan and, not having time to calm down, said plaintively and pleadingly, so that he himself became disgusted:
– I’m borrowing from you for a short time, Evgeniy Nikolaevich. For two, three months. The chairman promised me a loan after the reporting meeting.
- And now it doesn’t?
- Now you can’t. We hadn’t paid for the old one yet when we built the house. And so he meets halfway; no one else would have agreed.
Again the rapid sound of an alarm clock escaped from somewhere, knocking alarmingly and loudly, but Kuzma did not find it this time either. The alarm clock could be behind the curtain on the window, or on the bookshelf, but the sound seemed to come from somewhere above. Kuzma couldn’t bear it and looked at the ceiling, and then cursed himself for his stupidity.
– Have you already visited anyone? – asked Evgeniy Nikolaevich.
- No, to you first.
- What can I do? I’ll have to give it! – Evgeniy Nikolaevich said, suddenly inspired. – If you don’t give it, you will say: Evgeniy Nikolaevich regretted it, he didn’t give it. And people will be happy.
– Why should I talk about you, Evgeniy Nikolaevich?
- I don’t know. I’m not talking about you, of course, at all. Every people. Only I have money in a savings account in the area. I deliberately keep them away so as not to drag them out over trifles. You need to go there. There is no time now. – He winced again. - We'll have to go. This is the case. I have a hundred there and I’ll take them off. This is correct: we must help each other.
Kuzma, suddenly suddenly exhausted, remained silent.
“That’s why we are people, to be together,” said Evgeniy Nikolaevich. “They talk all sorts of things about me in the village, but I have never refused help to anyone.” They often come to me: give me a five, then give me a ten. Another time I give away the last ones. True, I like it to be returned; you live so well and you don’t want to work either.
“I’ll give it back,” said Kuzma.
- Yes, I’m not talking about you, I know what you will give. Generally speaking. You have a conscience, I know. But some don’t – that’s how they live. Yes, you yourself know what to say! Every people.
Evgeniy Nikolaevich kept talking and talking, and Kuzma got a headache. He's tired. When he finally went outside, the last of the fog that had lingered until lunch had cleared and the sun was shining. The air was clear and brittle - as always on recent fine days. late autumn. The forest behind the village seemed close, and it did not stand as a solid wall, but was divided into trees, already bare and lightened.
In the air, Kuzma felt better. He walked, and it was pleasant for him to walk, but somewhere inside, like an abscess, the pain still itched. He knew it would last for a long time.
Maria finally got up, but Komarika was sitting next to her at the table. Kuzma immediately understood what was happening.
- You already came running. “He was ready to throw Komarikha out the door. - I sensed it. Like a crow to carrion.
“I didn’t come to you, and don’t drive me away,” Komarikha jabbered. “I came to Maria on business.”
- I know what business you came for.
- For whatever reason I came, that’s why I came.
- That's it.
Maria, who had been sitting motionless, turned around.
– You, Kuzma, don’t meddle in our affairs. If you don’t like it, go to another room or somewhere else. Don't be afraid, Komarikha, move on.
- I'm not afraid. “Komarikha took out cards from somewhere under her skirt, looked sideways at Kuzma, and began to lay them out. - Go ahead, I’m not stealing - why should I be afraid? And if you pay attention to everyone, there won’t be enough nerves.
– Now she’ll put a spell on you! – Kuzma grinned.
“And when the cards show you, I’ll say so, I won’t lie.”
- Where there - you will lay out the whole truth! Maria turned her head and said with hidden pain:
- Go away, Kuzma!
Kuzma restrained himself and fell silent. He went into the kitchen, but even here he could hear Komarikha spitting on her fingers, forcing Maria to draw three cards from the deck, muttering:
- And you didn’t get a government house, girl, thank God. I won’t lie, but no. Here it is, the map. It will be for you long journey- here it is, the road, and the interest of diamonds.
“Yeah, they’ll call you to Moscow to receive the order,” Kuzma couldn’t resist.
- And you will have troubles, big troubles - not small ones. Here they are, here. Up to three times is necessary. - Apparently, Komarikha collected the cards. - Take it off, girl. Although no, wait, you can’t take pictures. It is necessary to have a stranger who does not cast spells. Do you have kids at home?
- Oh, you're in trouble!
“Let me take it off,” said Maria.
- No, you can’t, another card will do. Hey Kuzma! – Komarikha sang affectionately. - Come join us here for a minute. Don't be angry with us sinners. You have your belief, we have ours. Take our cap off the deck, my friend.
- Sting you! “Kuzma came up and pushed the cards on top.
- Like this. My brother-in-law didn’t believe it either, he was a party member - of course! - and when he was put on trial in 1948, that same evening he came running to me for prayer.
She laid out the cards face down and continued:
“They don’t believe it for the time being, while life is calm.” And if trouble happens, and not just trouble, but trouble with grief, they immediately remember about God and about his servants, who were spat in the eyes.
“Shallow, shallow, Komarikha,” Kuzma waved tiredly.
- But I don’t grind. I speak as I know. So you think you don’t even believe in this divination? It just seems to you that you don’t believe it. And if there was a war tomorrow, do you think it wouldn’t be interesting for you to guess whether they will kill you or not?
“Show your cards,” Maria hurried.
Komarika retreated from Kuzma and started talking again about diamond interests and the troubles of the cross. Kuzma listened: the state house did not fall out this time either.
After Komarikha they stayed at home alone. Maria was still sitting at the table, with her back to Kuzma, and looking out the window. Kuzma smoked.
Maria didn't move. Kuzma stood up behind her and looked where she was looking, but saw nothing. He was afraid to talk to her, afraid that if he said a word, something bad would happen that could not be corrected later. It was also unbearable to remain silent. His head ached again, and sharp, thumping blows hit his temple, making him wait for them and be afraid.
Maria was silent. He gradually watched her, but he might not have watched her, because if she moved, in the silence he would immediately hear any rustle of hers. He waited.
Finally she moved and he winced.
“Kuzma,” she said, still looking out the window.
He saw her looking out the window and lowered his eyes.
Suddenly she laughed. He looked at the floor and did not believe that it was she laughing.
