Who is Igor Guberman. Igor Mironovich Huberman: biography, career and personal life

- (b. July 7, 1936, Moscow), Russian writer. In 1958 he graduated from the Moscow Institute of Transport Engineers. The author of sharp quatrains (“garikov”), in which he often neglects the norms of the literary language. In 1982 1987 he was serving a sentence in a correctional ... ... encyclopedic Dictionary

- (b. 1936), Russian writer. In 1960-70s. author of popular science books and screenplays for television and film. In 1979-84 he was imprisoned and exiled. Since 1988 in Israel. In aphoristic satirical and ironic verse miniatures ... ... Big Encyclopedic Dictionary

Wikipedia has articles about other people with this last name, see Huberman. David Mironovich Huberman ... Wikipedia

Igor Guberman on the cover of the book "Gariki for Every Day" Igor Mironovich Guberman (b. 1936, Kharkov) is a Russian writer of Jewish origin, a poet who is widely known for his aphoristic and satirical quatrains, ... ... Wikipedia

Igor Guberman on the cover of the book "Gariki for Every Day" Igor Mironovich Guberman (b. 1936, Kharkov) is a Russian writer of Jewish origin, a poet who is widely known for his aphoristic and satirical quatrains, ... ... Wikipedia

Igor Guberman on the cover of the book "Gariki for Every Day" Igor Mironovich Guberman (b. 1936, Kharkov) is a Russian writer of Jewish origin, a poet who is widely known for his aphoristic and satirical quatrains, ... ... Wikipedia

Igor Mironovich (born 1936), Russian writer In the 1960s and 1970s author of popular science books and screenplays for television and film. In 1979 84 in custody and exile. Since 1988 in Israel. In aphoristic satirical and ironic verse miniatures ... ... Russian history

Guberman surname. Known carriers: Guberman, David Mironovich (1929 2011) Soviet and Russian geologist, academician, director of the Kola Superdeep Research and Production Center Guberman, Igor Mironovich (b. 1936) Soviet ... Wikipedia

On the cover of the book "Gariki for every day" Igor Mironovich Guberman (b. 1936, Kharkov) is a Russian writer of Jewish origin, a poet who has become widely known for his aphoristic and satirical quatrains, "gariki". Biography ... ... Wikipedia

Books

  • Gariki and prose, Huberman Igor Mironovich. Igor Mironovich Guberman is the author of the famous "gariks" - aphoristic and satirical quatrains. During all the "stagnant" years, his poems went in lists or in oral transcription all over ...
  • Gariki and prose, Huberman, Igor Mironovich. Igor Mironovich Guberman is the author of the famous "gariks" - aphoristic and satirical quatrains. During all the "stagnant" years, his poems went in lists or in oral transcription all over ...

Igor Mironovich Huberman (Hebrew יְהוּדָה בֵן מֵאִיר גוּברמן). Born July 7, 1936 in Kharkov. Soviet and Israeli poet, prose writer. Known for quatrains called "gariki".

Father - Miron Davydovich Huberman.

Mother - Emilia Abramovna Guberman.

The elder brother - David Mironovich Guberman, academician of the Russian Academy of Natural Sciences, worked as the director of the Research and Production Center "Kola Superdeep", was one of the authors of the project for drilling superdeep wells.

After school, he entered the Moscow Institute of Railway Engineers (MIIT), from which he graduated in 1958 with a degree in electrical engineering. For several years he worked in his specialty, while simultaneously studying literature.

In the late 1950s, he met A. Ginzburg, who published one of the first samizdat magazines Syntax, as well as a number of other philosophers, literary figures, and fine arts. He wrote popular science books, but more and more actively manifested himself as a dissident poet. In his "unofficial" work he used pseudonyms, for example, I. Mironov, Abram Khayyam.

Arrest and criminal term of Igor Guberman

In 1979, Huberman was arrested on trumped-up charges of buying stolen icons and sentenced to five years in prison. Not wanting an unnecessary political process, the authorities tried Huberman as a criminal under an article for profiteering. In addition, one official liked his collection of icons.

Huberman himself spoke about his criminal case: “At that time, a huge number of people were imprisoned under a criminal article. I remember that I was summoned to the KGB and offered to imprison the editor-in-chief of the magazine “Jews in the USSR”, with which I then collaborated, or to imprison myself. I was not there. They immediately found the criminals, who testified that I bought from them five obviously stolen icons. And since they were not found during the search, which is generally understandable, I was also tried for the sale of stolen goods. In general "I had a maximum of a year and a half. But the investigator admitted to me that I would serve a full five years, because the director of the museum in Dmitrov really liked my collection of icons. And they could confiscate it only by giving me such a long time."

He was confiscated a large collection of paintings, which he collected 12 years: oil paintings, tempera. In addition - icons, sculptures, a large number of books.

He ended up in a forced labor camp, where he kept diaries. He recalled that in the cell he wrote on scraps of paper that his cellmates kept in boots and shoes. Then he was able to transfer to freedom through the deputy chief for the regime of the Volokolamsk prison. "In prison, I met different people, but they treated me very well. In general, fools in Russia are treated very well! By the way, I even had a nickname - Professor. So she followed me through the stage and stretched. Because I am for everyone guessed crossword puzzles. And for this, tobacco was thrown over the wall to me on the exercise yard, "he recalled.

In 1984 the poet returned from Siberia. For a long time I could not register in the city and get a job. He said: “I was not registered in Moscow. But my wife and children immediately, David Samoilov registered me only a year later - in Pärnu.

In 1988 Huberman emigrated from the USSR to Israel and lives in Jerusalem. Often comes to Russia, speaking at poetry evenings.

In Israel, he again began to collect and collected a fairly good collection of paintings.

Widespread fame and popularity received it "gariki"- aphoristic, satirical quatrains. Initially, he called his poems dazibao (during the Cultural Revolution in China, this was the name for big slogans). But in 1978, friends published his book in Israel, calling it "Jewish Dazibao". Then he decided to change the name of his quatrains. About how this name appeared, he said: “Together with me. My name is Igor, but at home they always called Garik. My grandmother pronounced my name wonderfully:“ Garinka, your every word is superfluous!

All history tells us
that the Lord is constantly doing.
Every century there is a nit
Previously unknown species.

He is a supporter of informal vocabulary: "After all, Russian literature is simply impossible without it!".

“It’s hard to upset me as an unsinkable optimist. Old age evokes sadness. True, I manage to joke on this topic: “Weakness in the organs, spasm after colic, old age is not joy, insanity is not orgasm,” Huberman said.

Igor Guberman - Gariki

Personal life of Igor Guberman:

Married. Wife - Tatyana Guberman (nee Libedinskaya), daughter of writers Yuri Libedinsky and Lydia Libedinskaya. As Huberman said, he was happily married all his life. “I don’t know about my wife, but she simply has no choice. On the advice of one of my friends, when I fill out the questionnaire in the “marital status” column, I write - hopeless, ”he joked.

Two children were born in the marriage: daughter Tatyana Igorevna Guberman and son Emil Igorevich Guberman.

The daughter is a kindergarten teacher, she used to work with cybernetic machines. The son is a computer programmer.

Huberman has three granddaughters and a grandson.

Bibliography of Igor Guberman:

1965 - Third triumvirate
1969 - Miracles and Tragedies of the Black Box
1974 - Third triumvirate
1977 - Bekhterev: pages of life
1978 - Igor Garik. "Jewish Da-Tzu-Bao"
1980 - Jewish dazibao
1982 - Boomerang
1988 - Walks around the barracks
1988 - Gariki (Dazibao)
1992 - Gariki for every day
1994 - Second Jerusalem Diary
1994 - Jerusalem Gariki
1994 - Strokes for a portrait
1998 - Gariki from Jerusalem
2002-2010 - Anthology of Satire and Humor of Russia of the XX century. T.17
2003 - Okun A., Huberman I. A book about a tasty and healthy life
2004 - Gariki penultimate. Gariki from Atlantis
2006 - Second Jerusalem diary
2006 - Evening bells
2009 - Guberman I., Okun A. Guide to the country of the Elders of Zion
2009 - Travel Book
2009 - Notes from the road
2009 - Elderly Notes
2010 - In love, all ages are nimble
2010 - Gariki for many years
2010 - The art of growing old
2013 - Eighth Diary
2013 - Jerusalem Diaries
2014 - The gift of frivolity is sad
2015 - Ninth diary
2016 - Botany of love
2016 - Gariki and prose
2016 - Jewish melodies

Gariki Igor Guberman:

Preferring to be romantic
During difficult decisions
I always tied a bow
The end of a love relationship.

Come on Lord let's decide
Defining each other's role:
Do you love sinners? Perfectly.
And let me love sinners.

I was single - I dreamed of odalisques,
Bacchantes, whores, geishas, ​​pussies;
Now my wife lives with me
And at night there is silence.

Now I understand very clearly
and I feel and see very clearly:
it doesn't matter that the moment is beautiful,
What matters is that it is unique.

That's why I love slobs
blessed in spirit, like a seal,
that there are no villains among them
and they are too lazy to do dirty tricks.


and oil-smelling caviar
there is nothing more precious than laughter
love, sadness and play.

The river flows after the army,

how stupid it is to die
for someone's arrogance and ambition.

I'm glad I'm sitting with you again
Now let's open the bottle
we declared a fight against drunkenness,
but you need to drink before the fight.


layered unsteadily and anxiously,
it is easy to return us to the cattle,

The idea was not found by me,
but this is a valuable piece of advice:
to live in harmony with his wife,
I argue with her in her absence.

Experience did not improve anyone;
those who have been improved lie shamelessly;
experience is the knowledge
which is impossible to fix.


my sadness, like the world, is old:

hung up a mirror in the morning?

There is nothing sadder in the world,
than in the evening, breathing cold darkness,
sadly lighting a cigarette,
think you don't want to go home.


I have adopted a simple concept:

To live, cherishing peace, -

to keep the soul fresh
you have to do the scary thing.


and laughter took me on the run:

and zealously its shore.

I follow with burning interest
after years of fighting.
An angel and a demon are fighting in me,
and I sympathize with both.

Unable to live collectively:
by the will of painful fate
I hate idiots
and among the smart - lonely.

It sometimes prevents me from falling asleep
exciting, no matter how you turn,
suddenly revealed to me
some unthinkable bullshit.

With God I communicate without whining
and without disturbing;
stupid on the device of being
complain to the author of the device.



what kind of enema tomorrow
fate decided to put us.

Excellent fidelity husband,
Zealous slave bond of marriage -
Such a family draws a circle,
That the woman is dreaming of a triangle.

I love the spring of women's words
And women's thoughts round dances,
Since we are smart from books,
And the women are straight from nature.

I didn't like beauties very much
And not out of scarcity money:
Beauty even in the middle of the night
I care how they lie.

With relentless stubbornness
Everything in the world is timely;
The more innocent friendship with a lady,
the sooner she gets pregnant.

There are ladies: stone, like marble,
And cold as mirrors
But softened a little, these ladies
Later they stick like tar.

A phase has come in my soul
Simplification of life drama:
I'm afraid of a lady's refusal,
And I'm afraid of the lady's consent.

Cooled down in body and soul,
I turned off my brazier:
I still look at the gentle maidens,
For what, I don't remember.

Who seeks the truth, hold on
At the paradox on the edge;
Here are women: they give us life,
And then they don't let us live.

The women are dressing now
Remembering what you heard from your girlfriends:
The purpose of a woman's outfit is to show
That without him she is no worse.

On your own hump and on someone else's
I have adopted a simple concept:
it makes no sense to go to the tank with a knife,
but if you really want it, it's worth it.

For the joys of love sensations
once paid with sharp pain,
we are so afraid of new hobbies,
that we wear a condom in our hearts.

To live, cherishing peace, -
insipid, dull, curdled;
to keep the soul fresh
you have to do the scary thing.

Yesterday I ran to fill a tooth,
and laughter took me on the run:
all my life I carry my future corpse
and zealously its shore.

In our age of faux fur
and oil-smelling caviar
there is nothing more precious than laughter
love, sadness and play.

All our tendency to optimism -
from the inability to imagine
what kind of enema tomorrow
fate decided to put us.

There are personalities - holy simplicity
plays their actions, as if by notes,
naivety is an excellent trait,
inherent in creators and idiots.

The river flows after the army,
to bury their faces in the ground;
how stupid it is to die
for someone's arrogance and ambition.

People are the weakest in assimilating
mutual learning relationships,
that too climb into other people's fate
possible only by personal invitation.

The layer of man in us is a little bit
layered unsteadily and anxiously,
it is easy to return us to the cattle,
it's very hard to get back up.

We kept all the denseness
past Russian generations,
but they added odor
their spiritual secretions.

Alas, but I'm not delicate
and forever with cynical impudence
interested in the shape of the spots
on halos of various holiness.

Steals power, steals servants,
the thief loves to reproach the thief;
you can safely believe in Russia,
but it is dangerous to trust her.

I traveled to different countries
my sadness, like the world, is old:
what a scoundrel is everywhere above the crane
hung up a mirror in the morning?

A man will tie himself in a tight knot,
but if the flame in it bubbles,
will always get from a woman
what the woman wants.

I love my disgust
leading me for a long time:
even to spit at the enemy,
I don't put shit in my mouth.

Living in a mysterious land
from night to day for decades,
we drink to the Russian way of life,
where the image is, but there is no life.

I loved books, booze and women
And I didn't ask God for more.
Now my excitement is reduced by age,
Now there is no energy for books.

That's why I love slobs
blessed in spirit, like a seal,
that there are no villains among them
and they are too lazy to do dirty tricks.

The leaders of Russia are their people
in the name of honor and morality
again called to go forward,
and where before, they lied again.

All history tells us
what the Lord is constantly doing:
nits appear every year
previously unknown species.

We hate incomprehensibility
in the roulette of joys and troubles.
We even in death are looking for meaning,
even though it doesn't exist in real life.

When, swallowing blood and teeth,
I'll have to swing
I beg you, eyes and lips,
don't let me down and smile.


The biography of Igor Guberman, like the biography of many of his talented contemporaries, is full of Soviet realities. He was born in the 36th, in the Ukrainian city of Kharkov, on July 7th. His father was an engineer, and therefore Garik entered the Moscow Institute after school to get an engineering degree. His older brother David also followed in his father's footsteps, developing the method of ultra-deep drilling and becoming an academician.

It was during his student days in the 50s that Igor met the famous dissident Ginzburg and other creative people who had "too much freedom" for that time. During this period, he actively wrote poetry, publishing under various pseudonyms in Ginzburg's journal "Syntax".

Arrest and immigration

After the institute, Huberman devoted several years to working in his specialty, was assigned to work in Ufa, and was a member of the local volleyball team there. But the career of a Soviet worker in the name of a brighter future did not attract him too much. He writes poetry, publishes, becomes the author of his own magazine "Jews in the USSR", lives on fees and does some dubious business, for which he receives a term.

In 1979, Igor Guberman was sentenced for speculation to five years in a labor camp in Siberia. It was there that he wrote his famous "Walks around the barracks", a magnificent social satire, expressed through three heroes: the Loafer, Delyaga and the Writer. Returning home in 1984, he could not find work and housing for himself for a long time, but his “colleague in the shop”, the poet Samoilov, helped, who registered a satirist objectionable to the authorities in his house.

Few people know that Igor Mironovich Guberman is a writer of scripts for several documentary scientific films, after his release he worked at the Leningrad Film Studio, and the author of a serious work on modern psychiatry. With all his heart he tried to leave Russia with his family, but at the OVIR they explained to him that the immigration of the Gubermans was considered inappropriate.

Igor had to fight for a long time, and in the end he went abroad in 1988. At the same time, "Walks ..." were published. By that time, his “gariks” had already been collected and published in Israel, which went literally “from mouth to mouth”, as a separate book. In the same place, in the first years of immigration, Huberman wrote the book Strokes for a Portrait.

Despite the fact that Huberman has been an Israeli citizen for many years, he considers himself a Russian person, loves his homeland and dedicates almost all his poems to Russia, often coming here for "poetry evenings."

Igor Guberman Career: Writer
Birth: Russia, Moscow, 7/7/1936
The audience froze as soon as he began to speak: quietly, without pathos, but warmly and very confidentially. He asked who had already been to his concerts - he raised a dozen hands, he apparently calmed down. Then the feeling of a certain knurledness of the program, the provenness of jokes and reprises did not leave me. But what a problem! You forget about it when the tears themselves roll from your eyes, the handkerchief soon becomes wet, you laugh out loud and fix a similar reaction of your neighbors with peripheral vision. So, an interview with Igor Guberman.

Igor Huberman, in my memory, is coming to America for the second time. The last time I didn’t go to his concert out of skepticism, which outweighed the need to go somewhere, to fuss: well, just think, some Gariki, we saw Yevtushenko and Voznesensky, and now the late Alexander Ivanov, and Irtenyev, together with Vishnevsky.

This time, one of the poet's performances was to take place in a hall located 15 minutes from my house. Not to go is a sin; this is about you personally, therefore, Alexander Sergeyevich used to say: "We are lazy and incurious ...".

He entered the stage with a sporty gait, youthful, despite his sixty, fit. Dressed very lightly - I will quote one of the notes sent to Huberman: "Why are you so defiantly modestly dressed?"

The audience froze as soon as he began to speak: quietly, without pathos, but warmly and very confidentially. He asked who had already been to his concerts - he raised a dozen hands, he apparently calmed down. Then the feeling of some knurledness of the program, the provenness of jokes and reprises did not leave me. But what a sorrow! You forget about it when the tears themselves roll from the pupil, the handkerchief quickly becomes wet, you laugh out loud and with peripheral vision fix a similar reaction of the neighbors. So, a conversation with Igor Guberman.

Igor Mironovich, when did you feel the taste for the word?

I felt a taste for the word, you see, in early childhood, when my mother read my grandmother's tales to me.

Why then did you enter a technical university? You graduated from high school with a medal - maybe that got in the way of the right choice?

I entered MIIT due to the fact that my dad, an engineer-economist, told me (it was the 53rd year): "Garinka, go to a technical university." With a medal, they bombarded me at an interview at the Energy Institute - later, doctors of physical and mathematical sciences did not answer the interrogative motive given to me at the interview. And I came to Baumansky to give documents, and some nice man said to me: "Everyone won't accept you the same way, go to MIIT." There were no interviews, and Jews were not bombarded there. In our group of 30 men there were 22 Jews.

Did your poetic talent somehow manifest itself at the institute?

I wrote verses, visited a literary association, composed all sorts of nonsense, and because I suffered from first love, I wrote an unthinkable number of lyrical poems - snotty and happy, which I later punctually drowned in a garbage can, which I am very glad about. I didn’t write quatrains then, it came in the early sixties.

Then because Yevtushenko, Voznesensky were thundering with might and main ... How did you, it would be appropriate to say, develop relations with them?

I never interacted with them. None of them are familiar with my poems - I am almost sure of this.

When did you realize that the Soviet top was in the post-Stalin era - byaka? How did your parents feel about her?

I had intelligent parents who were frightened to death in 1937 and 1948; as a result, there were no political conversations at home under any circumstances. They were faithful people, and when relatives gathered with us on Saturdays, there were also no political conversations, but they ate stuffed fish and scolded me for bad behavior. Since then, I have not liked stuffed fish.

You traveled around the country as an electrical engineer and also wrote books, I think?

Since the 60s, I have published a few books, including The Third Triumvirate - about biological cybernetics, Miracles and Drama of the Black Box - about psychiatry and brain research, the story about Bekhterev "Pages of Life". Well, there were also "Negro" books: I wrote novels for the members of the Writers' Union.

Unfortunately, I have not read your book about Bekhterev. Is there a version about the poisoning of Bekhterev by Stalin?

I know this version - bullshit. This version was brought, no doubt, in 1956 by doctors returning from the camps. Then an insane number of myths appeared, and among them - you remembered: allegedly Bekhterev was poisoned by Stalin in 1927 for diagnosing paranoia in him. Bekhterev really examined Stalin as a neurologist that year, in the interval between two congresses: psychologists and teachers. In the same dark time of the day, he died of poisoning. However, Stalin did not yet have sufficient command for such a secret assassination. And most importantly, Bekhterev was a genuine doctor who once took the Hippocratic oath and taught students to adhere to it sacredly. Therefore, if, moreover, he discovered paranoia in Stalin, he would under no circumstances say it out loud. And according to legend, he went out into a certain hall and said to the people crowding there: "This gentleman is paranoid." Bekhterev under no circumstances would have blabbed out a medical secret - this is firstly. And the second, very significant moment: Bekhterev was a very cautious person. Nobody remembered at that time, but he himself remembered that in the summer of 1917 he published a huge article in one of the St. Petersburg newspapers - and he was a very authoritative person in Russia - that, in his opinion, the harm to the Bolshevik party for Russia, comparable only to the harm from German spies. Stalin has such a number of crimes that by attributing too much to him, we thereby reduce the weight of others. When I was writing a book about Bekhterev, I wrote a message to his daughter, who lived abroad, and cautiously asked about the poisoning version. The old woman answered me very cheerfully: "Of course, of course, everyone knew this: he was poisoned by a bastard young friend of life ..." All these games are pleasant for journalists, but this version is far from the truth.

You first brought Brodsky's verses to Moscow. What year was it?

1960s. I met Sasha Ginzburg, the one who by that time had published two issues of the magazine "Syntax", and for the third I brought him verses from Leningrad - I will not name the authors: they are all painfully famous. I called them easily, came and asked for verses for the magazine, and they gave them. And after more than a few years, we once drank with Natasha Gorbanevskaya, and she said that those St. Petersburg poets said about me that I was most likely a snitch. Why did they give me verses then?

Did you maintain relations with Brodsky after that?

After that, we fully communicated, became friends, but I don’t want to develop this topic, due to the fact that today he had so many friends that he would not have had time to communicate with so many.

Some accuse him of moving away from Jewishness, using it during the first stages of his stay in the States.

This is a distorted version of the facts, and quite vile. He never exploited close Jews, he was engaged in literary work, and various literary people immediately began to help him. And he actually departed from Jewry, and the only thing he wrote about the Jews was the "Jewish Cemetery" and one wonderful couplet:

Above the Arab peaceful hut

arrogantly hovering Jewish mangy.

And why do you, Igor Mironovich, call your quatrains rhymes? Is there an element of coquetry in this?

Truly, it seems to me that these are rhymes: they are short, the thoughts in them are scanty. Do you want to convince me that I am a poet? Poets are Blok, Pushkin, Derzhavin, Brodsky...

Are Vladimir Vishnevsky and Igor Irteniev poets?

Irteniev is an undoubted poet, an uncle of incredible talent. I am terribly sorry that in the discussion of earnings he should be engaged in a magazine, and not sit and stupidly strike. And Volodya is a very capable uncle, if you want - I will say gifted, but what he writes is jokes, not poetry. Poetry is something else: something in which music pulsates.

Which poet has had the greatest impact on you?

I bow to Zabolotsky, of course, the early period of the "Columns", but I also really like the late one. I love Samoilov very much, I can name a few more poets, but I breathe differently from Zabolotsky.

They say you were close friends with Samoilov?

I can’t say that I was narrowly friends, rather, I was well acquainted. Samoilov helped me immensely when, after that, the camps did not register me in Moscow. David Samoylovich offered me to live with him in Pärnu. I was registered there, my criminal record was expunged in a lawsuit, after which I was able to return to Moscow.

Since we spoke briskly about the camps, I will remember Varlam Shalamov, who said that the camp is an unconditionally negative habit of a person. Do you agree with him?

I cannot refute Shalamov or debate with him: he was imprisoned in a deadly time, disastrous, and I was imprisoned in extremely cheerful, funny and very easy times. To this day, when a man says that he sat hard and suffered wildly, I begin to think about him nastily. There was no famine, no murderous work, no deliberate pestilence of people.

You emigrated in 1988, when it was allowed to go to America on an Israeli visa, but you did not take advantage of this opportunity. Could you say why?

Because he did not emigrate, as you said, but repatriated, went to the land of his ancestors. In our family, under no circumstances there were disputes about where to go. We assumed that the Soviet Jew was allowed to survive either in Russia or in Israel.

You do not have the feeling of a narrow circle of your readers there?

I have a monstrous number of readers, a monstrous number of contacts, I feel very good and amusing there. I have concerts in Israel twice a month, the halls are small, but full.

You called your recent book "Sunset Gariki". Are you afraid to call?

The hostess also says to me: "What are you all writing about old age, you fool?" And I write about what I'm curious about!

You take death lightly. Do you advise others?

I do not give advice to anyone, under any circumstances. I'm much less of a fool than I look.

Let me ask a fundamental question: which of the people you have met has made the strongest impression on you?

Leonid Efimovich Pinsky, literary critic, Yulik Daniel and my grandmother Lyubov Moiseevna.

What is your relationship with criticism?

As for criticism, everything is not difficult for me: it does not notice me, and I am very glad about this, due to the fact that not a single idiotic article has yet appeared. One man, the truth, once wrote in a Leningrad newspaper that in our time, when everyone is burning and rushing, it is extremely glorious to absorb the text of a person’s poem, one that rushes nowhere.

How many lines does your longest poem have?

Eight. Once I wrote long poems, they were published in the Nizhny Novgorod four-volume book.

You once performed in the city of Orenburg, where in three notes you were asked: do you speak Hebrew? Is it possible that in the city where I was born, a large number of the population now speak it?

It's unlikely, but amazing people live there. I met actors and directors of the local theater, the only one of them, as soon as I praised his 40s cigarette case with the Kremlin, he immediately gave it to me, I am still grateful to him.

What do you think about the current state of Russia?

I look with great hope at everything that happens in Russia. Although it is not easy there at the moment, there is a chance that Russia will eventually become a normal country. In two or three generations, it will.

Also read the biographies of famous people:
Igor Dudinskiy Igor Dudinskiy

Newspaper editor, journalist.

Igor Irteniev Igor Irteniev

For several years, he appeared on television every week in the image of a truth-telling poet in the programs of Viktor Shenderovich Total and Free Cheese.

Igor Holin Igor Holin
Igor Starygin Igor Starygin

Honored Artist of Russia (1992) Laureate of the FPS RF Golden Crown of the Border for his work in the TV series State Border.

Igor Mironovich Guberman
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Igor Mironovich Guberman(born July 7, Kharkov) - Soviet and Israeli prose writer, poet, widely known for his aphoristic and satirical quatrains - "gariks". Writes only in Russian.

Biography

I ended up in a camp where I kept diaries. Then, already during the period of exile, on the basis of these diaries, the book "Walking around the barrack" was written (in written, published in). In 1984 the poet returned from Siberia. For a long time I could not register in the city and get a job.

The elder brother of I. M. Guberman - Academician of the Russian Academy of Natural Sciences David Mironovich Guberman worked as the director of the Kola Superdeep Research and Production Center, was one of the authors of the project for drilling superdeep wells.

Compositions

  • Third triumvirate. M., Children's literature, 1965
  • Miracles and tragedies of the black box, 1969. - 280 p., 50,000 copies.
  • Third triumvirate. M.; Children's literature, 1974. - 272 p., 100,000 copies.
  • Bekhterev: pages of life, M., Znanie, 1977; - 160 pp., 82 150 copies.
  • Igor Garik."Jewish Da-Tzu-Bao". Jerusalem, 1978
  • Jewish dazibao. Ramat Gan, 1980 (under the pseudonym Igor Garik)
  • Huberman Igor."Boomerang". Ann Arbor, USA, Hermitage, 1982
  • Huberman Igor."Walks around the barracks", Tenafly, USA, Hermitage, 1988. - 192 p.
  • "Gariki (Dazibao)" (Jer., 1988)
  • "Walks around the barracks" (Jer., 1990)
  • "", Moscow, "EMIA", 1992. - 294 p., 100,000 copies
  • Walks around the barracks. M., Glagol, 1993
  • "The Second Jerusalem Diary" (M., 1994)
  • Jerusalem Gariki. M., Politext, 1994.- 320 p., 100,000 copies.
  • "Strokes to the portrait". M., Young Guard, 1994. - 368 p., 30,000 copies.
  • Sobr. op. in 4 volumes. Nizhny Novgorod, DECOM, 1996 - 10,000 copies.
  • Gariki from Jerusalem. Minsk, MET, 1998
  • Gariki for every day. Minsk, MET, 1999
  • Huberman I. Gariki. - Rostov-on-Don, Phoenix, 2000
  • Anthology of Satire and Humor of Russia of the XX century. V.17, M., 2002, 2007, 2010;
  • Okun A. , Huberman I. A book about a tasty and healthy life. SPb., 2003
  • All Huberman in five books. Yekaterinburg, 2003
  • Gariki penultimate. Gariki from Atlantis. Eksmo, 2004
  • Second Jerusalem Diary. M., MET, 2006
  • Evening call, evening Bell. M., Eksmo, 2006, 2007-480 p.
  • Gariki. - Smolensk, Rusich, 2007
  • All gariks. M., AST, 2008-1152 p.
  • Okun A. , Huberman I. A book about a tasty and healthy life. M., Eksmo, 2008, 2011
  • Gariki for every day. M., Eksmo, 2008, 2009
  • Huberman I., Okun A. Guide to the land of the Elders of Zion. Limbus Press, K. Tublin Publishing House. St. Petersburg-M. 2009. 552 pp. ISBN 978-5-8370-0571-8.
  • Igor Huberman. Travel book. - M .: Eksmo, 2009. - 432 p. - ISBN 978-5-699-34677-6.
  • 1st Jerusalem diary. 2nd Jerusalem diary. M., Eksmo, 2009
  • Notes from the road. M., Eksmo, 2009
  • Elderly notes, Vremya, 431 pages, 2009.
  • Evening bells, Vremya, 509 pages, 2009.
  • Walks around the barrack, Vremya, 493 pages, 2009.
  • Travel Book, Time, 558 pages, 2009.
  • Gariki from Atlantis. M., Eksmo, 2009
  • In love, all ages are agile. M., Eksmo, 2010-320 p.
  • Gariki for many years. M., Eksmo, 2010-384 p.
  • Gariki for every day. M., Eksmo-press, 2010
  • The art of getting old. M., Eksmo, 2010
  • Gariki from Atlantis. Elderly notes. - M., AST, 2011
  • Gariki from Jerusalem. Travel book. - M., AST, 2011
  • Eighth diary. M., Eksmo, 2013-416 p., 5,000 copies.
  • Jerusalem diaries. M., AST, 2013
  • The gift of frivolity is sad. M., Eksmo, 2014
  • Ninth diary. M., Eksmo, 2015
  • Botany of love. M., Eksmo, 2016
  • Gariki and prose. M., Eksmo, 2016
  • Gariki for every day. M., Eksmo, 2016
  • Jewish melodies. M., Eksmo, 2016

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Links

  • on the radio "Echo of Moscow" (September 25, 2016)
  • . Radio Liberty (04/11/2015).
  • (March 8, 2010)
  • on the radio "Echo of Moscow" (April 12, 2009)
  • (Video recording: 2006)
  • (Published: 2003)
  • Film - a portrait of "Gariki and Cheloveki" - Television series (7 episodes), TVS, premiere (January 2, 2003)
  • , in the magazine "The Seagull" (July 1, 2001)
  • , Online

Notes

Translations

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An excerpt characterizing Guberman, Igor Mironovich

- You are right, Madonna Isidora, perhaps you will go to my best assistant ... everything will depend only on you. Have you thought about my question?
– What kind of books are you interested in, Your Holiness? Or do you want to find everything to destroy?
He was genuinely surprised.
Who told you such nonsense?
- But you threw thousands of books into the fires only here in Venice? Not to mention other cities... Why else might you need them?
“My dearest sorceress,” Karaffa smiled, “there are “books” and BOOKS... And what I burned always belonged to the first category... Come with me, I will show you something interesting.
Caraffa pushed the heavy gilded door, and we found ourselves in a narrow, very long, dark corridor. He took with him a silver candlestick, on which a single thick candle burned.
“Follow me,” the newly minted Pope ordered curtly.
We walked for a long time, passing many small doors through which not a sound could be heard. But Caraffa went on, and I had no choice but to follow him in silence. Finally, we found ourselves at a strange "deaf" door, which had no door handles. He imperceptibly pressed something, and the heavy door moved easily, opening the entrance to a stunning hall ... It was a library! .. The largest I have ever seen!!! The vast space from floor to ceiling was filled with books!.. They were everywhere - on soft sofas, on window sills, on solid shelves, and even on the floor... There were thousands of them here!.. It took my breath away - it was much more than a library Medici.
- What is it?! – forgetting who I am here with, I exclaimed in shock.
- This is the BOOKS, Madonna Isidora. Caraffa replied calmly. – And if you want, they will be yours... Everything depends only on you.
His burning gaze riveted me to the place, which immediately made me remember where and with whom I was at that moment. Having superbly played on my selfless and immense love for books, Caraffa made me forget for a moment the terrible reality, which, as it now turned out, was about to become even more terrible soon ...
Caraffe at that time was over seventy years old, although he looked surprisingly youthful. Once, at the very beginning of our acquaintance, I even thought if one of the sorcerers helped him by discovering our secret of longevity ?!. But then he suddenly began to age dramatically, and I completely forgot about all this. Now, I could not believe that this powerful and treacherous man, in whose hands was unlimited power over kings and princes, had just made me a very "veiled" and vague offer ... in which one could suspect some kind of inhuman- a strange drop of very dangerous love?!...
Inside me, everything literally froze with horror! .. Since, if it were true, no earthly force could save me from his wounded pride, and from his vengeful in his malice, black soul!...
“Forgive my indiscretion, Your Holiness, but, in order to avoid a mistake on my part, would you kindly explain to me more precisely what you wanted to say by this?” I answered very cautiously.
Caraffa smiled softly and, taking my trembling hand in his graceful, thin fingers, said very quietly:
– You are the first woman on earth, Madonna Isidora, who, in my opinion, is worthy of true love... And you are a very interesting interlocutor. Don't you think that your place is rather on the throne than in the prison of the Inquisition?.. Think about it, Isidora. I offer you my friendship, nothing more. But my friendship is worth a lot, believe me... And I would really like to prove it to you. But everything will depend on your decision, of course ... - and, to my greatest surprise, he added: - You can stay here until the evening if you want to read something; I think you will find a lot of interesting things here. Ring the bell when you're done and your maid will show you the way back.
Caraffa was calm and restrained, which spoke of his complete confidence in his victory ... He did not even for a moment allow the thought that I could refuse such an “interesting” offer ... And especially in my hopeless situation. But this was precisely what was most frightening ... Since, of course, I was going to refuse him. I just don't have the slightest idea how to do it...
I looked around – the room was amazing!.. Starting from hand-sewn bindings of the oldest books, to papyri and manuscripts on ox skin, and to later, already printed books, this library was a storehouse of world wisdom, a real triumph of ingenious human Thought!!! It was, apparently, the most valuable library that a person has ever seen! .. I stood completely stunned, fascinated by the thousands of volumes “speaking” to me, and could not understand how this wealth could get along here with those curses that such an Inquisition so vehemently and “sincerely” poured on them?... Indeed, for real inquisitors, all these books should have been the purest HERESY, for which people burned at the stake, and which was categorically forbidden as the worst crime against the church! .. How, then, here, in the cellars of the Pope, all these most valuable books were preserved, which, allegedly, in the name of “redemption and purification of souls”, to the last leaf, were burned in the squares?! .. So, everything that the “fathers” said inquisitors”, everything they did was just a terrible veiled LIE! And this ruthless lie deeply and firmly sat in simple and open, naive and believing human hearts!.. Just think that I was once absolutely sure that the church was sincere in its faith!.. She did not seem strange, for me she always embodied the sincere spirit and faith of a person in something pure and high, to which, in the name of salvation, his soul aspired. I have never been a "believer" as I believed exclusively in Knowledge. But I have always respected the beliefs of others, because, in my opinion, a person had the right to choose for himself where to direct his fate, and someone else's will should not have forced him to indicate how he should have lived his life. Now I clearly saw that I was mistaken... The Church lied, killed and raped, ignoring such a "trifle" as a wounded and mangled human soul...
No matter how fascinated I was by what I saw, it was time to return to reality, which, unfortunately, at that moment did not represent anything comforting for me ...
The Holy Father of the Church, Giovanni Pietro Caraffa loved me!.. Oh, gods, how he must have hated me for that!!! And how much stronger his hatred will become when he soon hears my answer...
I couldn't understand this man. Although, before him, almost any human soul was an open book for me, in which I could always read freely. He was completely unpredictable, and it was impossible to catch the slightest changes in his moods, which could lead to terrible consequences. I didn't know how much longer I could hold out, and I didn't know how long he intended to put up with me. My life completely depended on this fanatical and cruel Pope, but I knew only one thing - I did not intend to lie. Which meant I didn't have much life left...
I was wrong again.
The next day I was taken downstairs to some kind of gloomy, huge stone hall, which did not fit in at all with the general atmosphere of the most magnificent palace. Caraffa sat on a high wooden chair at the end of this strange hall, and was the embodiment of a gloomy determination that could immediately turn into the most sophisticated evil...