Description of the presentation by individual slides:
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Nekrasov in the memoirs of contemporaries A.Ya. Panaev N.G. Chernyshevsky Peasants The resource was prepared by Sudakova S.R., teacher at MBOU Secondary School No. 5 in the city of Svetly, Kaliningrad Region. N.A.Dobrolyubov
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Memoirs of I.A. Panaev. I.A. Panaev (1822-1901), an engineer by training, had excellent literary talent and published several works of fiction in Sovremennik. Honest, energetic, hardworking, he was in charge of economic and financial affairs at the magazine for over 10 years. I knew Nekrasov well and never doubted the kind and respectable qualities of his heart. Therefore, questions about him, in which at times there seemed to be a note of irony and some schadenfreude peeking through, touched me to the quick. Many fables were erected against him and many of the most outrageous slander was spread. There was no way I could answer the questions calmly. To each questioner, I explained in detail the absurdity of the rumors circulating and, in support of my assurances, volunteered to provide evidence. It is important for the public to know: was there a contradiction between everything beautiful and good that filled his works, and the moral qualities of the one who expressed this beauty and good so well? Was there a discord between the good feeling expressed in beautiful verse and the feeling living in the poet’s heart? To this I will answer firmly and without hesitation: there was no discord. Nekrasov’s moral qualities did not at all contradict the image that he painted with his imagination. He was a gentle, kind, unenvious, generous, hospitable and completely simple man; but he did not have sufficient strength of character. Editorial staff of the magazine "Sovremennik"
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Memoirs of N.G. Chernyshevsky. N.G. Chernyshevsky (1828-1889) is closely connected with the life and creative biography of N.A. Nekrasov. In 1853 he began publishing in Sovremennik. In 1856, going abroad, Nekrasov left him as the sole editor of the magazine. Upon leaving the Pedagogical Institute, Dobrolyubov settled in an apartment that was damp and made an unpleasant impression with its gloomy walls, the plaster of which was old, half-collapsed, tarnished and dirty. After visiting him, Nekrasov came to me and began the conversation directly with the words: “I was just now with Dobrolyubov, I could not imagine how he lives. You can't live like that. We need to find him another apartment.” This beginning was followed by a continuation, filled with reproaches for my carelessness about Dobrolyubov. What especially upset him was the dampness of the apartment. He said that given his poor health, D. could suffer greatly if he remained in such an environment. Returning home, Nekrasov immediately instructed his brother (Fyodor Alekseevich) to look for an apartment for Dobrolyubov. He gave the same instructions to his servant Vasily. When I went to Nekrasov two or three hours after he was with me, he was already talking about the fact that there would be much more difficulties in creating a bearable life for D. than I could imagine. It’s not difficult to find a decent apartment and furnish it, but it doesn’t mean anything. We need to arrange for him to have a good lunch too. We need to find some conscientious servant who knows how to cook well. A few days later he arranged this too. N.G. Chernyshevsky N.A. Dobrolyubov
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Memoirs of A.Ya. Panaeva. (A.Ya. Panaeva (1819-1893) - literary employee of the Sovremennik magazine, writer, common-law wife of N.A. Nekrasov, to whom he dedicated the “Panaevsky cycle” of love lyrics. She left perhaps the best memories of N.A. .Nekrasov - an outstanding publisher, a talented journalist, an extraordinary and complex person). I heard from Nekrasov himself how poor he was at the beginning of his stay in St. Petersburg. He recounted with humor how he lived in an empty room, because his landlady, wanting to survive her tenant, took out all the furniture in his absence. Nekrasov slept on the bare floor, putting his coat under his head, and when he wrote, he stretched out on the floor, tired of standing on my knees by the windowsill. Before my eyes, an almost fabulous transformation took place in the external environment and life of Nekrasov. Of course, many envied Nekrasov that brilliant carriages of very important persons stood at the entrance to his apartment in the evenings; his dinners were admired by rich gastronomes; Nekrasov himself threw thousands at his whims, ordered guns and hunting dogs from England; but if anyone had seen how he lay in his office for two days in a terrible melancholy, repeating in nervous irritation that he was disgusted with everything in life, and most importantly, he was disgusted with himself, then, of course, he would not envy him.
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Memories of peasants about N.A. Nekrasov. In 1889, the poet S.D. Drozhzhin published the written memoirs of the huntsman Sergei Makarovich, with whom Nekrasov hunted in Chudovskaya Luka. They help to understand what attracted Nekrasov to the village, to the peasants. When going hunting, I always called men and children to help out there. It was the same this time. We came to hunt, and suddenly, according to my calculations, there were more men and children than there should be. What to do? I began to scold and drive away the unnecessary ones; the master heard this, came up to me and asked why I was chasing them away. I explained that there were a lot of extra people that I didn’t hire. The master grinned and left everyone, kind soul. This time the hunt was a success. The master killed the bear, and gave the men another 50 kopecks in addition to the promised payment. And how the children loved him, the deceased! Wherever he came, all the small fry would come rushing out to meet him, and they were always waiting for him, like a bright holiday. He loved them very much, and they clung to him. We once arrived in one village, the frost was terrible, and it was necessary to make a raid. The master, due to the severe frost, forbade me to take the children, and when I recruited only adults, almost all the children started roaring. Nikolai Alekseevich asked me why they were crying. I answered that “they are going hunting.” “Here you go, stupid!” - he said, called the children and gave them gifts. “What can I say,” Makarych said, sighing, “there are no gentlemen like the late Nikolai Alekseevich today, and, perhaps, there never will be...
Currently in Moscow, the preparation of a volume of memoirs about the outstanding Russian poet Vsevolod Nekrasov is being completed (compiled by - Galina Zykova and Elena Penskaya). The essay by Sergei Leibgrad brought to your attention was written specifically for this publication.
Remembering Vsevolod Nekrasov is painfully difficult and joyful for me. For me, he is one of the most important Russian poets of the second half of the twentieth century and the beginning of the twenty-first century, constantly present in my speech consciousness. A genius, forgive me for the odious and completely meaningless word, who returned the possibility of expression to Russian poetry.
This is what became the reason for our acquaintance, this is what I have been telling my Samara students, literary friends and ordinary listeners of the Ekho Moskvy radio in Samara for a quarter of a century. The strange and terrible “resentment complex”, Nekrasov’s “ashes of Klaas” still knocks in my heart. Unfortunately, the topic of erasure, silencing, destruction, forgery, exclusion and destruction by his systems (Soviet, post-underground, “Groysian” and “German”) inevitably ended up at the center of our conversations and sometimes disputes. And only in the margins of these conversations of ours did the paradoxical artistic, literary-critical, art history and human originality of the unique poet and thinker Nekrasov appear. Its searing precision, organicity and depth. Naturalness and inevitability, freed from inertia. Concentration and freedom. That is, something without which it is impossible to imagine living Russian poetry before and after conceptualism.
I met Vsevolod Nikolaevich only ten times. The same number of times, maybe a little more, we talked to him on the phone. In my editorial papers there is a lengthy “offended” letter from Nekrasov. The letter was written in January 1996, immediately after the New Year holidays. In addition to reproaches for trying to “distance oneself from his point of view,” Vsevolod Nikolaevich also sent a wonderful poem about Samara, dedicated to me and the photographer Sergei Osmachkin (it was published on the portal “Circus Olympus” + TV on February 9, 2013).
On July 16, 2007, at his dacha in Malakhovka, I took, as it turned out, the last video interview in his life. By a strange coincidence, this happened on the day of the death of Dmitry Aleksandrovich Prigov, an outstanding Russian poet and his “sworn friend,” whom he unfairly considered one of the culprits for his “erasing out” from new Russian poetry.
My personal acquaintance with Nekrasov took place in September 1995. The initiator of our meeting was the poet and younger friend of Vsevolod Nikolaevich Alexander Makarov-Krotkov. Just at this time I managed to find a sponsor for the publication of the contemporary art journal “Circus Olympus” in Samara. Sasha became the publication's representative in Moscow. And the goal of this thick black and white newspaper almost exactly coincided with Nekrasov’s desire - to give readers and writers the most accurate and honest picture of modern Russian literature and poetry, above all. Without the forerunners in the person of Georgy Obolduev, Mikhail Sokovnin, the Lianozovites and conceptualists, it was pointless to talk about “other literature” or “postmodernism”. Among those from whom I, as an editor, was going to start, in order to then publish authors of my generation and the next after him, were Vsevolod Nekrasov, Dmitry Aleksandrovich Prigov, Lev Rubinstein, Mikhail Aizenberg and Viktor Krivulin.
Sasha Makarov-Krotkov told me that Nekrasov would like to publish two letters to Norbert Wier, editor of the Essen magazine Schreibheft. Nekrasov unsuccessfully sent these programmatic texts about the “falsification” of modern Russian art, primarily so-called conceptual poetry, and Boris Groys’ “management” of domestic uncensored art to Germany through Sabine Hengsen. The capital’s publications also did not want to publish the texts, frightened by the harsh and merciless Nekrasov’s assessments of Groys, Backshtein, Ilya Kabakov, Dmitry Aleksandrovich Prigov.
Nekrasov was looking, on the one hand, for a publication that would not be afraid to print his revealing “letters”, and, on the other hand, would be worthy of his ethical and aesthetic demands. Nekrasov trusted Alexander Makarov-Krotkov, but demanded a mandatory personal meeting with me.
For me, Vsevolod Nekrasov was exclusively important. I believed and believe now that an author of such a grandiose artistic scale has the right to any, to paraphrase Osip Mandelstam, unauthorized statements and radical judgments. This is his personal territory of responsibility, he deserves it with his creativity. I will never agree with most of the accusations against Prigov, but I was sure that Dmitry Alexandrovich, who also became the author of Circus Olympus, would understand and forgive his older comrade.
In September 1995, I walked through the gloomy autumn Moscow landscape, which for some reason reminded me of the works of Oleg Vasiliev, to meet Nekrasov. At the intersection of Stromynka and Babaevskaya I stood near the former Rusakov club by Konstantin Melnikov. A little girl with a sad, grown-up face explained to me how to get to Bolshaya Ostroumovskaya, building 13.
Before entering the entrance of a nine-story building made of gray sand-lime brick, I nervously smoked and walked up to the floor I needed. The door was opened by kind, plump Anna Ivanovna Zhuravleva, dressed as if in something from the countryside. Standing behind her was Vsevolod Nikolaevich Nekrasov, who I immediately recognized from the photograph. He was wearing an old tights and some kind of simple checkered shirt of a mixed blue and burgundy color. That's how I remember it for some reason. They asked me if there was somewhere for me to spend the night and immediately took me to the kitchen.
An old, shabby, cramped “Khrushchev-type” apartment, creaking wooden floors, worn-out slippers, books, folders, boxes, bales, rolls, tablets. “Conceptual” crack in the entire wall. Somewhere in the back of the room, walking into the kitchen, I saw a computer monitor turned on. A strange feeling of simplicity, old-fashioned and careless convenience, modernity and relevance. The computer was new, much more advanced than what I had then.
I didn’t have time to say anything until I was fed cabbage soup with sour cream, potatoes with cutlets and lightly salted cucumbers with cabbage, accompanied by a couple of shots of vodka. And then we talked for about two hours.
I explained the concept of the Circus of Olympus, said that I considered it an honor to publish Nekrasov’s texts, at the request of Vsevolod Nikolaevich, I “built” a line of living Russian poetry from Mandelstam through the Oberiuts and Obolduev to the Lianozovites - Yan Satunovsky and Vsevolod Nekrasov, and then to Prigov and Rubinstein . He named the names of Aiga, Eisenberg, Kibirov, Druk, Akhmetyev and, of course, Makarov-Krotkov. Nekrasov, having heard the word “Prigov,” did not show any hostility. He added Sokovnin, Sukhotin, Alexander Levin to my list, then spoke very warmly about Boris Slutsky, Leonid Martynov and Nikolai Glazkov. He returned to Mandelstam and Yan Satunovsky as his favorite poets. And suddenly, with a warmth I didn’t understand, he touched on Yesenin and Bulat Okudzhava as examples of speech poetry. Only after this did Nekrasov tell me what he thought about Boris Groys, Prigov and “pregota”. About speech that catches itself in poetry, about concretism and Moscow conceptualism. About the skill that Prigov betrays, compromising and replicating the discoveries he made. You don’t know how to talk about art and you don’t know about science. About how, sticking together into a system, “with all the passion and eagerness” they wipe it away, as if there was no such author at the very beginning. About the fact that ten more years of non-existence were added to the thirty years...
We agreed that in the first seven issues I will publish two open letters from Nekrasov to Neubert Vir, and in December Vsevolod Nikolaevich will come to the presentation of Circus Olympus. Before leaving, he gave me two thin books of his, “Poems from a Magazine” and “Help”. I asked if he had a few more copies of these books for Samara residents, and he gave me a whole stack of “References” for students and teachers of the Pedagogical University and State University. When saying goodbye, he asked if I would like to give him my collections, this is important to him. Of course I wanted it. And I prepared two books in advance, but during the conversation I decided not to violate the “purity of the genre.”
Underground man. Master. A man from the outskirts. Old gray-haired boy. An amazing speech, desperately similar to his poetry. Rhythmic, impulsive, devoid of comparisons and metaphors. Chant. It's like a dialect. For some reason I thought about Andrei Platonov. About Mandelstam in Voronezh. Lump above the upper lip. There was no gap between his words and his poems. It was as if they took something important from him and forgot about him. Not even that. What was open, heard, and evoked by him began to be distorted and made meaningless. When it came to politics, it sounded very accurate. Now this is remembered almost as a prophecy. Nekrasov spoke about fraud, about his exclusion from the context, about the new Massolit, about post-Soviet lies and unprofessionalism, and then argued that all this led to the Chechen war and will end in a new totalitarian system. He did not utter the phrase “Orthodox Stalinism,” but he spoke precisely about this.
On December 2, 1995, Vsevolod Nekrasov, together with Gennady Aigi, Lev Rubinstein and Alexander Makarov-Krotkov, came to Samara for the presentation of the first act of Circus Olympus. Those were wonderful days. Two days. Nekrasov was light, thawed, smiling. Sincerely touched by the attention of students, teachers, and Samara writers.
I settled the poets in the Rossiya Hotel, next to the river port, on the banks of the Volga. Large 12-story Soviet hotel. The best thing about it was the glass walls and the view: of the river, of the Zhiguli and of Samara from the other side. Nekrasov looked into the distance all the time, fascinated and even in love, looking closely at something, as if he was going to draw. When we were sitting in the hall, I quoted his poems to him: “See/ the Volga// and nothing/ comes to mind// well/ it can/ be like that// or the Volga isn’t much// but/ there’s a lot of water.” Nekrasov did not feel the irony. He peered at the Volga landscape seriously and sentimentally.
On the evening of December 2, a literary evening took place in the Samara House of Actors. I introduced the guests as classics of modern Russian poetry. Gennady Aigi accepted this characteristic as obvious. Lev Rubinstein smiled ironically. Vsevolod Nikolaevich slightly curled his childish thin lips. And it was still noticeable - the crowded hall with an abundance of young faces made an impression on him. Nekrasov read amazingly. Very quietly, very precisely, convincing the audience of the stuttering purity of speech and language, of unobtrusive wit and uplifting naturalness. It was as if he were polishing words and sentences until they became transparent with his repetitions. An amazing silence reigned in the hall, interrupted by applause. And suddenly Vsevolod Nikolaevich, abandoning the attention concentrated on his voice and his poems, began to monotonously read the letter about Groys and the “preparation.” It was difficult to listen to him to the end. Nekrasov was not upset, noting: “Poems are verses, but this is more important to me now.”
After the performances we walked around old Samara. Nekrasov looked like a private detective or local historian. He carefully examined the facades and fences, looked into the courtyards, asked me about the architects and residents. From Samara to Moscow he captured about forty issues of Circus Olympus, where the first part of one of his two letters was published.
And two months later I received a letter in which he politely but firmly “presented the bill” for the fact that, without his knowledge, I had independently given the title to the text “Open Letters to a German Friend” and in the second issue, along with the text, I had placed a drawing by Viktor Batyanov “Image Don Quixote."
The fact is that in every issue I decided to place a “gallery” of one artist or photographer on almost every page. Nekrasov’s first publication was accompanied by a pencil portrait of the poet by V. Krivitsky, which he handed over. The second is a drawing by Batyanov, the third is a photograph by Svetlana Osmachkina, the fourth is a landscape photograph by Vladimir Privalov.
I am, of course, to blame. Instead of calling Nekrasov’s texts “Letters to Neubert Wier,” I, in association with Camus’ letters, gave them the title “Open Letters to a German Friend.” But at the presentation in Samara, Vsevolod Nikolaevich did not say anything to me about this. He considered the drawing of “Don Quixote” in the second issue to be a manifestation of condescension and an attempt to distance himself from his point of view.
“Don Quixote doesn’t suit me at all because everyone knows who Don Quixote is. First of all, he is crazy. A sick person, completely divorced from reality, perceiving it extremely inadequately... It’s simply difficult to imagine that at one time, Mandelstam, say, or Obolduev, someone didn’t poke him - on the nose or behind the eyes - with this very character. Fundamentally mistaken: Mandelstam, Obolduev, Kharms or Bulgakov, or Martynov, Glazkov were connected with reality not weaker than others, but stronger. What is considered reality? You understand, the point is not to compare Vsevolod Nekrasov with any of those named as the author. This is not my copyright. But I think I can compare my position with anyone else’s - and with the position of the above-mentioned authors, my own actually has something in common: a position of isolation. Absences. The question is - where? Am I absent in reality, like Don Quixote, or in the system, like Kharms and others?” Nekrasov wrote to me, and then repeated the same almost verbatim in a telephone conversation.
Vsevolod Nikolaevich suggested that I stop publishing the letter or print the first letter to the end with an explanation that the title belongs to the editor, not the author. However, Nekrasov said, there is a third option - to make a printed apology for everything and print both letters, as we agreed.
In the fifth issue I published the end of the first letter to Vir, and another month and a half later, while in Moscow, I called Vsevolod Nikolaevich. Without letting me speak, he asked me, if possible, to come and visit. I tried not to make excuses, telling him that I didn’t need to prove Nekrasov’s inexcludable reality in poetry and that he was the most important and fundamental figure in the second Russian avant-garde, in its concretist and conceptualist incarnation (Nekrasov considered concretism a more precise term than conceptualism). But at the same time, I consider both Prigov and Rubinstein to be very significant and significant authors, in my opinion, not involved in the “non-existence” of Nekrasov in the version of Groys and others like him.
Vsevolod Nikolaevich softened, unexpectedly for me he remembered the film “Station for Two” and called this picture by Ryazanov real art. And he began to take out the works of Nemukhin, Rabin, Bulatov, Vasilyev from boxes, rolls, and from behind the wardrobe. Incredible work. He spoke with the greatest warmth about Oleg Vasiliev, moving away from inertia and cliches while maintaining human intonation. Suddenly he began to talk about repetitions, as about reviving meaning and words, as about embedding into a word and into a biography. “Your poems are completely different, I see you, Samara, and time behind them. You thought it was strange that I said about Ryazanov’s “Station for Two.” But there is no preparation in this. How could this not happen to Yan Satunovsky? Like Mandelstam, whose speech runs away from the convoy.” I confess, I remembered, and then scribbled this remark of Nekrasov on a piece of paper, because he mentioned me in it. But the vague comparison of Eldar Ryazanov, whom I do not perceive in the space of art, and Satunovsky with Mandelstam, without whom there is no Russian poetry for me, seemed to me as absurd as it was very Nekrasovian.
Subtly, deeply and technologically reflecting on poetry, Vsevolod Nikolaevich often struck me with restlessness and naivety, without which his transformed straightforward speech would have been impossible.
In the 14th, 15th and 16th issues of “Circus Olympus” in 1996, Nekrasov’s second letter to Vir was published, I informed the readers that the title of the texts was given by the editor, with short breaks, almost every year I went to visit Vsevolod Nikolaevich, where before the conversation Anna Ivanovna made sure to feed me home-cooked dinner from her “Soviet youth.”
I’m not sure it’s deserved, but I received special gratitude from Nekrasov for my review of his book “Package”, joint with his wife. Focused not on his exclusivity, but on “excluding” himself from the first rank of new Russian poetry, he emphasized in my review the line “objective evil, objective betrayal, objective indifference is still evil, betrayal and indifference.”
There were also new grievances. Genrikh Sapgir gave me Nekrasov’s “not quite the same poems” for publication in the “Samizdat of the Century” section. Vsevolod Nikolaevich would have chosen other texts, but the leader of the column was still Sapgir. And after Circus Olympus ceased to exist due to the default of 1998, in the collection Selected Circus Olympus I posted not a fragment of one of Nekrasov’s letters, but his small article about the Lianozov group. He himself allowed me to choose any of his texts, but he was dissatisfied with my choice.
In 2000, Vsevolod Nikolaevich recalled our conversation five years ago. About how the short period of Russian democracy will end, which was appropriated to itself, as he said, “by a greyhound who does not know science and does not know how to do art.” This was shortly after Kursk and the presidential elections.
At the beginning of 2001, I once again deceived the hopes of the brilliant poet. No, at some point I myself believed that our plan was feasible. Director of the Samara exhibition center "Expo-Volga" Natalya Lelyuk agreed to bring to Samara an exhibition of paintings and graphics from the collection of Vsevolod Nekrasov. I convinced her that it was necessary to create a literary and art museum of Nekrasov in Samara, that he was one of the largest living European poets, that the appearance of such a museum in our city would make her part of the history of Russian and world art. For some time, Vsevolod Nikolaevich also believed in this, at first looking at me as at Bender during his immortal monologue about New Vasyuki. Everything fell apart due to the need to take out very significant insurance. Nekrasov knew very well the value of the works that Rabin, Nemukhin, Bulatov, Infante, Vasiliev, Kabakov, Masterkova, Kropivnitsky, Pivovarov, Shablavin, Roginsky, Bakhchanyan gave him. The sponsor of the exhibition and the future museum did not want to risk their money. “I, of course, have great respect for Nikolai Alekseevich Nekrasov, but I have no right to risk the family business,” he said after some thought.
On December 8 and 9, 2005, Nekrasov came to Samara for the second time in his life. His wife Anna Ivanovna Zhuravleva came with him. They were invited by Samara State University to the conference “Codes of Russian Classics. Problems of detection, reading and updating."
We wandered around old Samara again. He was happy again, as on his first visit. They were interested in him, they asked him to sign his books, they asked him questions. He was again a living classic. Albeit in a narrow “circus-Olympic” and university circle. But it was precisely this circle that carefully surrounded the old brilliant poet with a childish, touchy face for two days. He wrote about this a little later in “Samara: slide program,” which was published on the Circus Olympus + TV portal through the efforts of Elena Penskaya and Galina Zykova in 2013.
The last time I met with Nekrasov was at his dacha in Malakhovka on July 16, 2007. On this day Dmitry Alexandrovich Prigov died. “Did I really outlive Dima physically,” Vsevolod Nikolaevich said almost in a whisper. A month and a half ago, Boris Yeltsin died. The feeling of a final parting with a never-fulfilled Russia, despite pinches of self-irony, did not leave me throughout the entire road to Nekrasov. My friend and I were driving to Moscow from Samara by car, and at 10 o’clock a text message came about Prigov’s death.
It was a hot, stuffy, Bulgakov day. For the collector's edition of The Master and Margarita, I interviewed contemporary poets and prose writers about their attitude to this novel. Vsevolod Nekrasov was the first. And the only one who, almost without any reservations, absolutely seriously called this text one of the best Russian novels of the twentieth century. An artistic phenomenon and the act of Bulgakov, who outplayed the system that strangled him. Revenge and retribution made possible through craftsmanship and authenticity. Nekrasov considered my words about the massoid, fictional, situational and “Soviet” nature of the phenomenon of “The Master and Margarita” to be undeserved. Bulgakov was dear to him as an example of a loner giving back to Massolite. The very system that, in his opinion, arose in place of the Soviet one. And which awakened “the current horror in leather jackets.”
The dacha itself was absurd, surreal and at the same time popular. A simple lopsided wooden house with an open veranda, with old decaying furniture, rugs, a huge cat and kind, wise Anna Ivanovna. A small bald spot in front of the gate and completely overgrown with wild trees, mainly maples, a tiny summer cottage. Slender, skinny trees desperately fought for a place in the sun. They grew so densely that it was barely possible to squeeze between them. To the question “Is Bulgakov’s anti-Semitism anti-Bolshevism for him?”, Vsevolod Nikolaevich painfully answered that these were related phenomena. “Such a number of certain names among those who persecuted Bulgakov cannot be accidental.” Nekrasov immediately noted that anti-Semitism is an abomination, that Germany was rightly punished for it, and then itself was freed from this filth, that his favorite and most important poets were Osip Mandelstam and Yan Satunovsky, that Alexander Levin and I did a lot for him (he mentioned me, probably because I was standing opposite him) that during the “Doctors’ Plot” and the fight against cosmopolitanism, he defended his friends as best he could from this Nazi muck. But... So he is isolated, forgotten, crossed out, pushed aside by people with the same last names, and this is very dangerous for everyone, this provokes the “Black Hundred evil spirits.” Groys, Backstein, Epstein, Rubinstein, Eisenberg, Nekrasov began to list. “Vsevolod Nikolaevich, you really appreciated Lev Rubinstein and Mikhail Aizenberg. And is your surname really your nationality?” I stopped the list of surnames. “I’m not talking about poetry now, but about position. And they too,” Nekrasov objected to me. “Are you really serious about all this? This is the deepest delusion, a disease. What would Mandelstam and Satunovsky say to this?” I tried to get rid of the obsession. “What happened in Germany has never happened in Russia, and we must make sure that this never happens. I partly agree with Solzhenitsyn. If he had such notes. They bit him badly, in bad faith. The skew was skewed, but Shvonder was there,” Vsevolod Nikolaevich muttered, without directly answering my question. I did not escalate our dialogue to the limit...
After a pause, Nekrasov remembered how in his youth he imitated Mayakovsky, Yesenin, Tsvetaeva, and then Martynov. His main and most powerful shock after Mandelstam was Satunovsky’s poems. The very possibility of such poems. At the end of our meeting, Nekrasov, at my request, read several of his old and new poems.
“Wait // I’ll see // How the clouds are going // How things are going”...
I was sure that I was seeing Vsevolod Nikolaevich Nekrasov alive for the last time.
On March 24, 2009, on the day of his 75th birthday, a month and a half before Nekrasov’s death, not a single, as we say out of inertia, central media outlet congratulated or remembered the poet. Suddenly, a photograph of Nekrasov appeared on the “Culture” channel, and a voice-over said: “Today, the innovative poet, literary theorist, member of the Lianozov group Vsevolod Nekrasov celebrates his 75th birthday.” A poem appeared on the screen: “I remember a wonderful moment/ Neva sovereign current// I love you Peter’s creation// Who wrote the poem// I wrote the poem.”
I immediately called Makarov-Krotkov so that Sasha would tell Vsevolod Nikolaevich that he was there. There is even one for “those”.
And on July 9, 2014, the exhibition “LIVE and SEE” finally arrived in Samara. The Samara Art Museum presented seventy-six works from Nekrasov’s collection, which contained more than three hundred paintings and graphic sheets and was transferred to the State Museum of Fine Arts named after A.S. Pushkin after the death of the remarkable poet by literary critics Galina Zykova and Elena Penskaya. Vsevolod Nikolaevich showed me many of them in his cramped apartment on Bolshaya Ostroumovskaya...
Memories of Nekrasov
<В ИЗЛОЖЕНИИ МИЗЕНЦА>
Ivan's story turned out to be short and fragmentary. According to him, Nekrasov came to Kostroma one summer, stayed at one of the hotels on Susaninskaya Square and sent lackeys to find some hunter to indicate places in the Kostroma province. One of the footmen saw Gavrila at the market, carrying great snipes on the governor's order. The footman told Gavrila about Nekrasov and conveyed to him the “master’s” desire to find the hunter. Gavrila came to the poet, met him and promised to show him his hunting places. Now we got ready and rode in troikas to Shoda. Nekrasov, according to the Zakharovs, traveled in two or three troikas, with all sorts of stores and supplies. On the way we stopped and hunted, according to Gavrila’s instructions, near Misko and Zharkov. “One day,” says Ivan, “we see three troikas flying; we hear that a gentleman is coming. What a gentleman, we think there are a lot of them coming here - we didn’t pay much attention to them. And we found out that Nikolai Alekseevich Nekrasov, the famous gentleman, will be there! " A little later the “master” himself arrived. Before he had time to rest properly, he got ready to go hunting, which turned out to be very successful: according to Ivan, in 3 o’clock they killed 120 snipes. “Well,” says Nikolai Alekseevich, “you can hunt here.”
The poet’s acquaintance with Gavrila, which began in this way, has not been interrupted since then. Gavrila often went to Greshnevo and sometimes lived there for a long time.<...>
Once, while hunting with Gavrila, Nekrasov killed a snipe, and Gavrila, at the same moment, killed another, so Nekrasov did not hear the shot. The dog, to his surprise, brought him both snipes. “How,” he asks Gavrila, “did I shoot at one and kill two?” On this occasion, Gavrila told him about two other snipes that fell under the charge of one hunter (see the end of “Peddlers”). This incident gave rise to the story of the murder of peddlers, which occurred in the Miskovskaya volost 1. Other details, for example, about "Katerinushka", who had to
Wait for the guy until cover 2,
based on the stories of Matryona, Gavrila’s wife, now also deceased, who sat alone just like Katerinushka.
It is unknown when Nekrasov’s first visit to Shoda took place. In any case, until 1861, when “Peddlers” was written. Then the poet visited Shoda two more times. He gave Gavrila Yakovlevich a book of his poems with a handwritten inscription as a souvenir; but this book was “read” by some reader, and probably even burned, which Ivan very much regrets. Nekrasov gave Gavril money, and he also did not leave his wife and children without gifts 3 .
Notes
Ivan Gavrilovich Zakharov from the village of Shody, Moscow volost, Kostroma district (died in 1931), son of Gavrila Yakovlevich, “friend-buddy” (died in 1883), as Nekrasov called him, to whom dedication was addressed in “Peddlers” ( 1861). Memoirs recorded by Mizents in 1902.
1 Page 410. I. G. Zakharov told A. V. Popov in more detail about this same episode in 1927. Hunter Davyd Petrov from the village of Sukhorukova “met peddlers in his village, heading straight through the swamps to the village of Zakobyakino, Yaroslavl province, and “invented” them to kill in order to take the money, and followed it into the forest. The peddlers realized that it was not good for a man who had recently been seen with a gun to be near them, and asked to leave them. When Davyd was killing, the shepherd heard shots and screams. After the murder, Davyd dragged one he was killed in a tree, the other was hidden under the roots. Then they were found, but they did not know who killed him. Soon rumors spread that Davyd had become rich. They began to guess about the reasons for the unexpected enrichment. Gavrila Yakovlevich was making a gun. Davyd did not pay him for his work. On Dmitri's Day called Gavrila Yakovlevich Davydka, and together they went to the shepherd Vediny, who heard shots and screams in the forest. First they drank well, and then “goaded the kid up.” The parent egged him on more: “There are three of us, tell us how you killed the peddlers, no one will know.” ". He told them the whole truth" (Yaroslavl Almanac, 1941, pp. 195-196). Other sources confirming these facts are unknown.
2 Page 410. Line from the poem “Peddlers” (Chapter V).
3 Page 410. One letter is known to Gavrila Yakovlevich Nekrasov, sent on April 20, 1869, which said: “My zealous yearning is that I haven’t seen you for a long time, a clear falcon. I often think about you and how I walked through the swamps with you together and I remember all this very well, as if it were yesterday, and in my dreams I often see you.
Take a look at your gift Yurka! Look how my heart is curled up at my feet, we don’t part with her for a minute - the bitch is so important, the stance is dead, and I cherish her more than my eyes.<...>
It hurts because I feel sorry for you, my sick one, that’s how my darling is rushing out of my chest to meet you” (“Nekrasovsky collection”, Pg. 1918, p. 108). Along with the letter, a photograph of Gavrila with a gun and a dog was sent (stored in the memorial museum of N. A. Nekrasov in the village of Karabikha); the portrait is signed:
Don't skimp on the gift
And I'll see you again,
Let's have a good glass
And let's go shoot.
Vsevolod Nekrasov was born in 1934; the second half of the 50s was spent studying philology at the Moscow Pedagogical Institute. Then the poems begin with the task of “making the line as physically strong as possible” (from an interview with Vsevolod Nekrasov to the magazine “Zerkalo”, 2004). Beginning poets, not oriented towards officialdom, had to grope, finding like-minded people by chance, but inevitably. This is how the famous “Lianozovo” arose - a community of artists and poets, the center of which was Evgeny Kropivnitsky - a fragment of the Silver Age, a patriarch who welcomed talented youth.
Nekrasov is one of the earliest authors of samizdat; in the very first issue of “Syntax”, published by Alexander Ginzburg, his selection was presented, among others there were Vladimir Burich, Genrikh Sapgir, Igor Kholin and Nikolai Glazkov, related to Nekrasov.
Let us remember the year of release - 1959. The 20th Congress with its criticism of the cult of personality is behind us, but also the scandal with the publication of Doctor Zhivago and the awarding of the Nobel Prize to Pasternak. The typewritten magazine was planned to be almost weekly, but after the third issue the publisher received a sentence of two years in prison on trumped-up charges.
Nekrasov's second large selection appeared in the no less legendary samizdat magazine - the Leningrad "37", which was edited by Viktor Krivulin, the Bronze Age built bridges between the unofficial literature of the two capitals. The poems were typed in two columns and took up several dozen pages.
As happened with many talented authors, only Nekrasov’s children’s texts appeared on the pages of the Soviet press, and even those publications can be counted on one hand. Poems of this direction were later collected in the book “Children's Case” (M., 2008).
Since the early 70s, Nekrasov has had occasional publications in the West. Let us note that in 1965 the emigre “Grani” reproduced all the published issues of “Syntax”, which, of course, could not add to Nekrasov’s sympathy with the literary (and not only literary) authorities. The most significant foreign selection is in the collective collection “Freedom is Freedom” (titled with lines from a poem by Nekrasov himself), which was published in 1975 in Zurich with parallel translations into German. At that time, unofficial literature had not yet developed the practice of publishing collective collections of writers living in the USSR in the West. “Metropol”, “Catalog” - all this came later, although with great resonance.
In general, it must be said that almost every publication of Vsevolod Nekrasov became a literary event. It is not for nothing that the first two “real” books (“Poems from a Magazine”, 1989, and “Help”, 1991) were compiled from samizdat and tamizdat publications, respectively. And there were not so many such publications.
Vsevolod Nekrasov was very sensitive and jealous of the context of the proposed publication, setting a level of demands that was almost impossible for publishers. He sought to provide publications - including those of recent times - with detailed explanations of a polemical and historical-cultural nature. For Nekrasov, the coordinate system of Russian uncensored poetry was extremely important. In this regard, the carelessness of critics or significant, as he saw it, omissions of certain names were perceived as a personal insult.
Over time, the poems acquired attachments in the form of letters to the editor, remarks and notes. Their irascibility, however, was not a means of settling scores or a feature of a critical temperament. Nekrasov was sincerely concerned with the desire to convey to the reader and strengthen in his perception the picture of the development of Russian poetry, in particular, the phenomenon of Moscow conceptualism.
But let these debates be left to literary historians. We will be left with poems.
In 2007, Vsevolod Nekrasov was awarded the Andrei Bely Prize for special services to Russian literature. These achievements are truly special.
Vsevolod Nekrasov is avant-gardeism “with a human face.” There are no cold constructions in his poetry; it does not require critical justification or academic commentary. The poems of such poets as Satunovsky and Nekrasov gave a powerful impetus, in the direction of which modern poetry has been most successfully developing for half a century.
The poem is born as if out of nothing. A few repetitions, consonances, two or three function words - that’s, in fact, all.
God knows what you're muttering to yourself,
Looking for pince-nez or keys... -
Khodasevich once wrote. Metaphysical muttering, a special case of a defiantly traditional poet, became the starting point for poetic searches in the second half of the 20th century. It turned out (and once again!) that poetry is much broader than was commonly understood. That she, like the Phoenix, must constantly renew herself, and is alive only because of this. That, finally, it contributes, no matter how trite it may sound, to the expansion of the reader’s consciousness and makes his perception more voluminous. These problems are solved in different ways, but Nekrasov’s case is unique.
The minimalism of Vsevolod Nekrasov is stunning. The well-known poetic formula about the best words in the best order is translated from poetic arithmetic into the quantum dimension.
forest and after the forest
after the forest
plenty of space
plenty of space
half the world
half the world and half the world
and if after the summer
after that...
This dimension surprisingly organically contained both lyricism, pure as crystal, and civic poetry.
and darkness and darkness
and darkness and darknesswash
wash and wash...
His poems, unlike the thousands of lines of hundreds of authors reproducing his style, are by no means anonymous. For the most part, they are surprisingly kind and bright. The miracle of speech that gives birth to a text occurs before the eyes of the reader, without at all involving him in postmodernist games with provocative reception. There was something chivalrous about standing his ground. “Here I am, the author. And not the death of the author, but here you go. Sorry".
All that remains is to re-read. Recognize Nekrasov’s poems as a single body. And always remember that
There is freedom
There is freedom
There is freedom
There is freedom
There is freedom
There is freedom
Freedom is freedom...
Nikolai Alekseevich Nekrasov
Nikolai Alekseevich Nekrasov
First published in "Bulletin of Europe" (1908. - E 5) as the 3rd section
"Excerpts from Memories." As part of the cycle "Turgenev. - Dostoevsky. -
Nekrasov. - Apukhtin. - Pisemsky. - Languages" is placed in the 2nd volume "On
life path" in all three editions (St. Petersburg, 1912; St. Petersburg, 1913 and Moscow, 1916);
was also included in Kony's book "1821 - 1921. Nekrasov, Dostoevsky. By
personal memories" (Pb., 1921). The author accompanied this anniversary edition
introduction, in which, in particular, he wrote:
"On my long journey through life, fate sent me a personal acquaintance with
Nekrasov and Dostoevsky, Leo Tolstoy and Maykov, Turgenev and
Goncharov, Pisemsky, Solovyov, Apukhtin, Kavelin and others.
This book is dedicated to the memories of two of them, in view of the fact that
that this year marks and will mark 100 years since birth
Nekrasov and Dostoevsky." The essay was included in the 5th volume of the memoirs "On Life
ways". Published from volume 6 of the Collected Works.
P. 140. “poetry never spent the night” - Turgenev’s words in a letter to Polonsky
dated January 13/25, 1868 (Poly. collected works and letters: Letters. - T. VII. - M.;
L., 1964); in general, for Turgenev in his attitude towards the poet it is characteristic (and
natural!) evolution caused by the difference in ideological and artistic tasks,
which took especially sharp forms after the split in Sovremennik; before
Turgenev admitted that many of the poet’s poems are “Pushkin-like good,” and others are even
“burnt”, being collected “into one focus” (Ibid. - T. II, III. - M.;
L., 1961, according to the index).
P. 140. lines from the poem “Who Lives Well in Rus'.”
P. 141. from the poem “In an unknown wilderness, in a half-wild village...”
The essay "Petersburg Corners" was included in the anthology "Physiology
Petersburg" (St. Petersburg, 1845. - Vol. I - II), where, in addition to Nekrasov, the editor and
The author, as in his other collections, included a number of other writers.
P. 147. in stunning verse - “About the exemplary slave - Yakov the Faithful”
(poem "Who Lives Well in Rus'").
P. 148. from the poems “Poet” and “Before Twilight”.
F.A. Viktorova, whom Nekrasov called Zina (? - 1915), the last
poet's wife.
P. 149. Otechestvennye zapiski spoke caustically about Judge Zagibalov
(E 10 for 1872) by the democratic publicist N.A. Demert. Having received
from the world's response, the magazine returned to this story again, finally
exposing the latter: he imposed a fine on the menu as “uncensored
literature".
P. 150. from the poems “A Knight for an Hour” and “The Enemy Rejoices.”
P. 151. drunk people... kind people - the thoughts of Snegirev, a character in the novel
"The Brothers Karamazov".
Borovikovsky A.L. is a talented lawyer, poet of democratic views.
Next is the opening line from the poem “To the Death of Nekrasov”
(Domestic notes, - 1878. - E 1), who died in the last days of 1877.
P. 152. lines from the poem “I will die soon...”, written over 10 years
until the end.
P. 153. K. D. Kavelin in his youth attended the Herzen-Granovsky circle,
was friends with Belinsky, later was close to Chernyshevsky’s circle, which but
prevented him at the time of monarchical hobbies of “strong power”,
“understanding” the interests of the people, to justify reprisals against them; author
a loyal note addressed to the Tsar “On nihilism and measures against it
necessary" (1866). At the same time - under the influence of Nekrasov - he showed
a certain genuine democracy in his views, for which
Koni points out.
P. 156. Nekrasov’s estate - now Nekrasov’s house-museum near the village
Chudovo, Novgorod region.
Compilation, introductory article and notes by G. M. Mironov and L. G.
Mironova
Artist M. Z. Shlosberg
Koni A.F.
K64 Favorites/Comp., intro. Art. and note. G. M. Mironova and L. G.
Mironov. - M.: Sov. Russia, 1989. - 496 p.
In the one-volume edition of the remarkable Russian and Soviet writer, publicist,
lawyer, judicial speaker Anatoly Fedorovich Koni (1844 - 1927) included him
selected articles, journalistic speeches, descriptions of the most
notable cases and processes from his rich legal practice.
Of particular interest are the memories of the case of Vera Zasulich, the literary
Petersburg, about Russian writers, with many of whom Koni connected
long-term friendship, memories of contemporaries about A.F. Koni himself. Co
pages of the book, the reader is confronted with a charming image of the author, a true
Russian intellectual-democrat, throughout his life above all
who valued truth and justice, which helped him in his declining years
make the right choice and, under the new system, give away your knowledge and experience
to the people.
K --------------- 80-89 PI
M-105(03)89
ISBN 5-268-00133-7
Anatoly Fedorovich Koni
FAVORITES
Editor T. M. Muguev
Art editor B. N. Yudkin
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Delivered to set 02/02/89. Subp. to print 09.14.89. Format 84X108/32.
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cr.-ott. 26.04. Academic - ed. l. 30.22. Circulation 750,000 copies. (5th plant
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Ed. ind. LH-245.
Order "Badge of Honor" publishing house "Soviet Russia" Goskomizdat
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