Station Zima: visiting the poet Yevgeny Yevtushenko. "Native Siberian dialect"
When we arrived in the Irkutsk city of Zima on the day of the death of Yevgeny Yevtushenko, it was 15 degrees Celsius, and a few hours later, when we left, the ground was already covered with snow, as if under the lines of a poet born here.
White snows are falling
like sliding on a thread...
To live and live in the world,
but probably not...
"Solid district city"
There are several versions of where the name of the village on the banks of the Oka came from. We will choose one: "deputy", "zama" - in Buryat "way", "road". The poet's life ended in the USA, and it began right here - at the Zima station of the Trans-Siberian Railway. Yevtushenko always considered this place special, blessed, he was proud that he was able to glorify it throughout the world with poems and poems. Knowing how much Winter meant to him, the worst thing was to come here when the news of the poet's death had already reached the Siberian hinterland from across the ocean, and not hear any echo. Or even worse - to hear insincere words, to see feigned grief: Yevtushenko himself has always considered hypocrisy to be the main misfortune of mankind.
Ancient city buildings, wooden lace somewhere rickety, somewhere else quite cheerful houses, cozy smoke from stoves.
Winter is a solid district city,
not a village.
We came out at the central square, where once more than one thousand people gathered for the performances of their fellow countryman. At a nearby bus stop, several people shifted from foot to foot in the cold wind. If you need to survive disappointment, you want to survive it faster. Ask directly: "The great poet, the son of this earth, has died. Do you care about that?" Hear cold, like the wind, "no" - and leave faster. Ridiculously start a conversation with "You know? .."
Well, I know. What about you? - the old woman replies rudely.
I'm trying to understand what Yevtushenko meant to his countrymen.
The person who always thought of us and did a lot for us left. And it is clear to you or not - it's up to you to decide.
The bus came up. I manage to find out that the woman’s name is Lyudmila Anatolyevna and that she went to the same school as Yevtushenko just in the year when he left Zima (in 1944 the family moved to Moscow), and then I saw him more than once at a meeting graduates. It will no longer be possible to specify how exactly the poet who lived abroad could help the small town: the doors slammed shut, the bus left.
lifetime museum
The House Museum of Poetry is located a block from the central square. Unfortunately, the native house where the family of the geologist and amateur poet Alexander Gangnus and the actress Zinaida Yevtushenko lived, who moved to Zima with two-month-old Zhenya, has not been preserved. But this one is intact, where my uncle and aunt lived and where Zhenya spent a lot of time. The estate (not without the financial support of the poet) was restored in 2001 and, of course, they began to call the Yevtushenko Museum - lifetime.
“To live and live in the world, yes, probably, it’s impossible ...” Here is a colorful bench - like his favorite jackets and shirts. Here is the open-air stage, which was carefully rebuilt in 2015, when Yevtushenko was here for the last time, during his Russian tour.
“Before, it was high, Evgeny Alexandrovich was already sick. They rebuilt it for his arrival, so that it was more convenient to climb,” Sergey Ivanovich, the watchman, manages to tell us.
In Zima, the caretaker was probably the first to know that the "owner" of the museum had passed away: they called at one in the morning "either from Moscow, or from America itself." He says flowers were brought to the museum early in the morning. Young people also come - they just silently walk around the estate. Red carnations are neatly tied to the handle of the front door with green electrical tape - after all, they found a green one, the color of the stems! Sergei Ivanovich shares his personal impressions of Yevtushenko - here, in Zima, almost everyone has them.
Happier than Pushkin
White snows are falling
like at all times
as under Pushkin, Stenka
and after me...
Yevtushenko said that he was happier than Pushkin, because he could "kiss the director of his museum." We are waiting for the head of the museum, who made the great poet happy.
Lydia Evinova appeared at the gates of the estate in a black satin suit and a lace scarf in contrast to her snow-white face. A stately elderly man with medals on his jacket led her by the arm. It's hard to believe, but Valentin Smolyanyuk, who is not at all like a 90-year-old man, is indeed a veteran of the Great Patriotic War, "five years older than Zhenya." We have known each other since such a difference in age was significant.
“At the age of 15, I got a job as a graphic designer at a local cinema, drew posters, and the boys helped me. Among them was Zhenya. write somewhere," recalls Valentin Grigorievich.
Silently we sit down at the round table in the rustic cozy, hotly heated room of the museum. Evinova doesn’t say anything, but it’s understandable: the poet sat down at this table in exactly the same way, drinking tea with wild Siberian strawberries and bird cherry pies, which were so lacking in America. I feel: if I ask anything now, Lydia Georgievna will again shed the recently stopped tears. He tries not to cry, but they still act treacherously.
Valentin Grigorievich recalls how they cooked fish soup on the river: "Zhenya liked to lay the fish himself, and Masha (Yevtushenko's wife. - Approx. TASS) helped him."
“Of course, he is a great poet. But his talent is also in how he lived every moment of time one hundred percent, with full dedication. For example, he gives autographs here. with a person, finds out who he works with, what he lives in. And even in this short conversation, he will have time to give him a part of himself. And what is most striking: after all, Zhenya was very sick when he was here last eyes - everything was exactly the same as before, nothing betrayed the disease.
Prayed and waited
"Here, in the yard, so many people gathered with his energy - not only to sit down, there was nowhere for an apple to fall! And Masha sat modestly somewhere on the steps. And we all worried: what about, the wife of our poet - and somewhere on the steps But she, she says, is fine, and she likes everything so much, - Lidia Georgievna joins in the conversation, to whose face after a glass of black tea (at the Zima station they drink it in glass holders) a blush returned.
She opens the photo album, which was prepared for the 85th anniversary of Evgeny Alexandrovich. Here is rafting on the Siberian rivers with the Irkutsk journalist Leonid Shinkarev, and here is the 1990s, Yevtushenko with his students in the USA, where he taught the history of Russian literature and Russian and European cinema. Each photo is pasted on velvety cardboard in the old fashioned way. The sheets are still slightly damp: they were glued the day before until late in the evening. They knew that Yevtushenko was bad, but they still prayed and glued. And he shows the icon - the face of St. Panteleimon. On the reverse side, it is written in an expensive hand: "This is a saint of our family. Let him keep you, Lida."
Did you believe in God? How could the poet who wrote "God forbid to be a god even a little bit, but you can't be a little bit crucified" could not believe? Lidia Georgievna gets up from the table, reads a few quatrains and adds: "Here he wore a grandmother's cross, but he always said that the cross should be inside!"
The door sometimes creaks, there are more and more people around the round table - museum staff, libraries, local poets. When asked if there are many poets in Zima, they cannot answer: how to find out how much is a lot, and how much is a little. They begin to enumerate and wonder, especially when you hear about very young authors. A dozen names are immediately called, all are printed, and this despite the fact that in Zima itself there are only 30 thousand inhabitants.
The chairman of the local literary association, Natalya Yakimova, moved here 40 years ago, when she was still a schoolgirl.
“Grandma told me then that a great poet lived here. At that moment I felt something inside, and poems began to be born,” she admits.
Such conversations, like life itself, end when there seems to be so much more to say. It put an end to the snow, forcing to gather on the way back. Seen off, as expected, the whole world. Leaving the gates of the estate on an empty street, Lidia Grigoryevna kissed everyone goodbye under white flakes:
Yevgeny Alexandrovich always did this. Never left without kissing everyone!
Yevtushenko loved this land and she reciprocated, rhyming his talent with the life of his fellow countrymen.
Ekaterina Slabkovskaya
Yevgeny Yevtushenko reads poetry. 1960s
1901. It rains non-stop in the city. Street ditches and drains are overflowing. On July 18, at the Irkutsk station, the railroad bed was washed away by rain flows, as a result, four freight cars slid down the embankment.
1904. In some places of the city, 6 boxes are hung out with the inscription: "Do not be sorry, gentlemen, put cigarettes or tobacco for soldiers in the Far East into this box."
1910. After a major overhaul and reconstruction, the Grand Illusion Electric Theater (formerly the Odeon) by A. M. Don Othello was reopened. The auditorium has been redesigned, two emergency exits have appeared.
1911. The charter of the Irkutsk Stock Exchange Society, presented by the East Siberian Department of the All-Russian Society for the Promotion of Trade and Industry, was approved by the Highest on board the Shtandart yacht.
1932. Yevgeny Alexandrovich was born at the station (surname at birth - Gangnus) - Soviet, Russian poet.
1933. American pilot Post, who made a round-the-world trip by plane, landed at the airfield in Bokovo at 20:35. The next day at 12 o'clock I flew to Khabarovsk.
1938. Regional OSVOD and the Komsomol organization of Irkutsk University organized a combined boat-and-vehicle passage along the route Irkutsk - Kachug - - - Zayarsk - Makaryevo - Irkutsk. 10 students participate in the transition. Commander P. M. Kelman, political instructor K. A. Potapov.
1939. In the garden. The Paris Commune hosted a large folk festival dedicated to the All-Union Day of the Athlete. The program includes a concert, film screening and attractions.
1945. The well-known local historian, ethnographer, folklorist, former professor of Irkutsk University Georgy Semenovich Vinogradov died in Leningrad.
1950. The first stage of the stone stands of the Avangard stadium for 7.5 thousand spectators was put into operation, built instead of the wooden ones that burned down in 1943. Author-architect D. Goldstein. The stadium includes administrative and sports facilities, a hotel, a cafeteria.
1958. At enterprises, organizations, research institutions, mass rallies of protest began against the armed aggression of the United States and Great Britain in Lebanon and Jordan, demanding the withdrawal of the aggressor's armed forces.
1961. There was a big accident at the gas tank installation on the street. Marata, 9-11, which supplied the surrounding houses with domestic gas. As a result, the gas penetrated into the basements of houses and led to the gas contamination of the basements, creating an explosive situation. The barracks located in the estate No. 11 suffered more than others, in the underground of which a particularly large amount of gas was concentrated. The decision was made: to evict all the tenants from the barracks, which would then be demolished; to dig a large pit in place of the barracks for the speedy evaporation of gas.
1989. The first 54 operations were performed at the MNTK of eye surgery. The first operation in the first patient - P.N. Chupina - made by microsurgeon S.A. Alpatov.
1999. Primate of Poland (head of the Polish Roman Catholic Church) Cardinal J. Glemp consecrated the cross and square of the Catholic Cathedral of the Immaculate Heart of the Mother of God.
Yevgeny Yevtushenko responded to a video message from journalists traveling around Russia by train A photo: Ivan MAKEEV
A CALL TO THE CITY OF TALSA, USA.
Hello, Evgeny Aleksandrovich, this is Sasha Gamov from Komsomolskaya Pravda. Two of our journalists traveled by train across the country - from Moscow to Vladivostok - and got to Zima station. And so they recorded a video letter addressed to you. I'm recording...
STATION ZIMA, RUSSIA
Vorsobin:
Evgeny Alexandrovich, hello!
Huseynov:
Good afternoon.
Vorsobin:
From your homeland, we send you a big Siberian greetings. It's winter now, frost is 30 degrees. The best Siberian weather. And we are in your hometown, not that everyone here knows you, everyone here loves you. And we were lucky enough to send greetings from Winter itself. Of course, how can we say hello without poetry?
“... But kneading this earth in your finger,
Singing her children with water,
Admiring her, we realized: dear!
We felt: blood, our own ... "
This is the feeling of the homeland we wanted to convey to you.
Winter station.
Huseynov:
Hello to you!
Vorsobin:
Goodbye.
Yevtushenko:
Thanks a lot guys...
- What would you, Yevgeny Alexandrovich, would like to convey to our journalists?
That you just have to be inquisitive. Understand what the problems are. There are many problems. This I know. Not everything is easy there, people live quite hard. We need to think about how to help them. They will see for themselves.
- They spend the night at railway stations, meet ordinary people. They tell you what life is like there.
Very well, as true correspondents should do. They must climb everything, see everything. Everything good and everything bad must be described.
Did they read your poem correctly?
Absolutely correct. This is from the poem "Station Winter". This is my first poem. It was written in 1954. I went there after Stalin's death.
- Did this greeting from our guys cause you any memories of Zima?
Still would! I was filming a movie there. Then it was very bad, there was nothing in the stores at all. In 1979 With me, 70 people came there, the whole expedition, this is the first film about Siberia, which was staged in Siberia. Because even "Siberiada" was filmed in Tver.
- What was the name of this film?
- "Kindergarten"... Of course, it was difficult to work. And the city executive committee suggested to me: you know, we can arrange for you, put you on a special special diet. We will remove food from the dining cars especially for you from passing trains. I told them: I can’t do this, I have all my relatives here, I can’t - some kind of special food.
Indeed, then it was so in order to live normally, to eat something, only to take off from the dining car from passing trains. This is what they wanted to do for us.
- Specially for Yevtushenko.
Yes, I told my people: guys, I do not advise you to do this. And everyone understood me. And they were all sent home. And shared everything with them. And everyone treated our people very well, the whole group.
When we filmed the wartime bazaar, the locals all came and filmed for free. They didn't ask for anything. They came in those fur coats, katsaveikas that they had ...
When our group was leaving for Moscow, one guy did a bad, monstrous thing. He was young, stupid, spoiled - the son of one of the leaders of Mosfilm. The locals gave us all their family photos, the most precious thing they had. To shoot. And he did not give them back these family photos, their relics. I immediately fired him. And no matter how my dad tried to save him, I said no! He insulted people.
And they are just like family. They followed us all.
So no one made a movie. We were shown all the material, then it was sent to us. And I allowed (I was told that there was no such case) that all the people went and watched different takes. And to choose and vote for some. It was also very important for me - their opinion. Directors usually hide it, quietly show it. And then everything was open. It was just wonderful. They turned out to be wonderful editors.
By the way, we made the premiere of the film in the same place, at Zima station.
- I will definitely pass on your story about Zima to the guys ...
And pass on my thanks to them. The most beautiful thing that can be is greetings from the homeland.
MEANWHILE
About the time machine, hatred for Muscovites and golden panic buttons
32 degrees.
Authentic, says Huseynov. Siberia, half-Muscovites (Vorsobin is from Saransk, Huseynov is from Kaliningrad, - Ed.), met us correctly. She showed me right away who was who. Where is she - strong, stern, with gigantic pride looking at us through the window of the train, and where - European-flu "near zero"
This year, the regional center Zima experienced a great loss - on April 1, the famous poet and publicist Yevgeny Yevtushenko died. He always considered Zima his small homeland, devoted many works to it and even filmed his autobiographical film here. Therefore, it is not surprising that the news of Yevtushenko's death shocked all Zimints. They carried flowers and candles to his house-museum. At this time, they were already preparing for his 85th birthday, which was planned to be celebrated on July 18. Museum staff carefully filled out an album with rare photographs of the poet, prepared a festive scenario. Today, despite the mourning, the Poetry Museum is still preparing for a significant event. On the birthday of the hero of the day, here, as before, they expect to see fans of Yevgeny Yevtushenko, his relatives and friends.
Jacket for Fidel
Last year, a monument to the coachman, the first settler of the Zima land, was erected in the central park of Zima. It became direct evidence that the development of one of the oldest settlements in Eastern Siberia began with the laying of the Siberian Highway. Then Zima was only a pit station. In 1743, the coachman Beznosov was assigned to the Ziminsky village by decree from the Irkutsk office. He became the first official resident of the future town. Following him, several families from the Balagansky prison were sent there.
Ivan Zuev, a well-known sculptor in the Irkutsk region, worked on the creation of this monument. He portrayed a coachman in ancient warm clothes. With one hand he holds a horse by the bridle, and in the other - an old scroll. As it turned out, popular belief is connected with him. It is said that in the 18th century a coachman found a secret document during the performance of his service, according to which one who touches this scroll will find happiness and goodness in the house, health and well-being. It is not surprising that the sculpture of the coachman became the national treasure of Zima.
The townspeople also have special memories associated with the railway. Many people remember how Fidel Castro made his way through their quiet, inconspicuous station. He was struck by the benevolence and openness of the Siberians. And it was like this: having learned that a train with a Cuban leader was passing by rail, the lumberjacks blocked his path. The train was surrounded by a crowd of Siberian men demanding a meeting with a celebrity. Fidel heard a noise and went out into the vestibule in his tunic. Then there was a severe frost. The crowd greeted him with a roar, people wanted to listen to Fidel. The Cuban began to speak directly from the footboard of the carriage, and then through the crowd someone's quilted jacket "sailed" into his hands. People handed it over to Fidel to keep warm. From such care, he was touched and began to look for what to give the Siberians in return. And felt three cigars in his pocket. He handed them to the peasants, they lit a cigarette and, taking one puff at a time, began to transfer foreign luxury to each other. Watching this touching action, Castro shed a tear ...
No one in the West would act like that. Those who got the cigars would put them in their pockets. They would. Now I understand why the Russian people are invincible,” the Cuban leader said.
Another story is connected with Yevtushenko's friend, Vladimir Vysotsky. They say that when in June 1976 he was returning with friends to Irkutsk and the train stopped at Zima station, Vysotsky offered to go out and take a picture. He said that he would call Zhenya Yevtushenko later and say that he was in his homeland. After the deed was done, he returned to the compartment and said thoughtfully: “An ordinary town, but you see how it turned out, a poet was born in it!”
Monitored each item
Despite the fact that Zima is a rather small town, there are many memorial complexes located here. Residents proudly say that many worthy, courageous and selfless people were born on their land. Among them are revolutionary fighters, soldiers of the Great Patriotic War, fellow countrymen who served in hot spots, etc. And there are craftsmen, artists, writers and poets here. And of course, the main place is given to Yevgeny Yevtushenko.
In 2001, a house-museum of poetry appeared in Zima, where poetry evenings are held every year. From the same year, the International Poetry Festival on Baikal was launched. The sunny courtyard accommodates hundreds of guests who come to get acquainted with the life and work of Yevtushenko. The museum was created during the lifetime of the poet. He himself was present at its opening. He came with his wife and two sons: Zhenya and Mitya. According to tradition, the first thing they let into the yard was a cockerel, and a cat into the house. Zhenya did not let go of the keeper of the hearth all day.
The poet's house, unfortunately, has not been preserved. But the house of his uncle and aunt, with whom Zhenya spent a lot of time, was completely recreated. He called his beloved relative, Andrei Dubinin, "the driver of all Rus'." The head of the Ziminsky car depot could restore and repair any car. Once Yevgeny Yevtushenko came to him together with famous travelers from Czechoslovakia - Jiri Ganzelka and Yaroslav Zikmund. At the entrance to Zima, at one of the Tatras, on which the Czechs were riding, the engine went haywire. Zimintsy undertook to repair it. Travelers were not embarrassed by the modest life, nor by the fact that they had to sleep on the floor. On the contrary, they thanked the hosts for their hospitality and continued on their long journey.
Each time, visiting his small homeland and visiting the house-museum, the writer carefully made sure that everything in the apartment was the same as during the life of his relatives. The same furniture, utensils, books. The typewriter on which Yevtushenko created more than one of his works has also been preserved. About this time, he wrote: “At Zima station, visiting my uncle, I knocked on a typewriter like a woodpecker ...” Therefore, if the employees of the institution put new exhibits in the rooms, he immediately noticed this and did not always welcome it.
In the hallway, his cap is still hanging on a hanger, as if waiting for its owner. It seems that he went out for a short time and will definitely return soon.
“It was not in vain that I ironed my brother’s trousers”
Despite the tragic events, the house-museum continues to live today. All employees are at their work post and work as usual.
Now work is in full swing here to prepare for the celebration of the poet's anniversary.
We are preparing an album for the birthday of Yevgeny Yevtushenko. 85 sheets, according to the number of years lived. Rare photographs of the poet will be placed on them. We also planned that it would include 85 wishes for Evgeny Aleksandrovich. They thought that he would see them, read them. But, unfortunately, this is no longer possible. Our plans were grandiose. Nevertheless, we continue to prepare today. This year, the city administration has prepared a gift for our house-museum of poetry - a bust of Yevgeny Yevtushenko. A three-meter monument will be erected near the city's House of Culture "Horizont," says Olga Starikova, custodian of the MBUK "IKM" funds.
The opening of the monument is tentatively scheduled for City Day, June 24. If the work is not completed, then the townspeople will see the sculpture on the birthday of the hero of the day. However, it will be the most dear event for Elvira Dubinina, Yevgeny Yevtushenko's cousin. She followed the fate and work of her brother all the years. She suffered and rejoiced with him.
Yevtushenko did not always have an even relationship with the authorities. There were conflicts with the General Secretary of the Central Committee of the CPSU Nikita Khrushchev. Yevtushenko was in a depressed state, but his fellow countrymen, Zimins, saved him. They asked me to read poetry to them. And there, for the first time, lines dedicated to Elvira were heard: “My sister ironed my trousers and convinced me fervently, sometimes with feminine tenderness, sometimes strictly: “Everything will be fine, Zhenya!”. And many years later, when Yevtushenko was awarded the Russian Prize, established by Ludwig Nobel, Elvira Dubinina said jokingly: “No, it was not in vain that I ironed his trousers.”
Night gatherings with foresters
Each visit of Yevtushenko to his homeland was accompanied by stormy meetings. Relatives and friends were always waiting for him on the platform. Here he came to read poetry and rest his soul. His favorite vacation spot was the upper reaches of the Oka River. This place was opened for him by his uncle, Andrey Ivanovich. And then his friend Nikolai Zimenkov became his indispensable companion. They met during one of the poet's visits to his homeland in the 80s. Nikolai worked as a correspondent for the Irkutsk regional television studio. He was instructed to make a story about the poet's homeland and about himself.
To my great shame, then I was familiar with poetry through Pushkin and Lermontov. About Yevtushenko and did not suspect. The first work that I met was "Northern allowance". I read it myself, then aloud to my family - I laughed and laughed. It was so vividly written, with irony and a smile. Through his poems, I then filmed a story about the poet's homeland. I met his uncle, Andrei Ivanovich. It was one of the most venerable pigeon breeders in Zima. From his filing, a whole galaxy of boys grew up - lovers of pigeons. Also in Zima, he met with well-known Yevtushenko scholars - Vitaly Komin and Valery Prishchepa. Then with Zhenya himself. Despite his imposing appearance, some arrogance in clothes, foppishness, he turned out to be a fairly simple person.
It was Evgeny Alexandrovich who introduced Nikolai Zimenkov to the beauties of the local nature.
In the upper reaches of the Oka there are canyons, waterfalls - no Switzerland is needed. We gathered five or six people and hit the road. The Zimints love Yevtushenko very much, so they always ensured his safety and comfort. Foresters were definitely swimming with us. We lived there for several days, and imagine: night, a fire and Yevtushenko reading poetry to the foresters. The gatherings continued until 4-5 o'clock in the morning. It was interesting to watch not so much for him as for his listeners, Siberian peasants. They were such connoisseurs - it was felt that they understood his poems, let them through themselves. It costs a lot! Completely different perception. And how he knew and felt the river - I was only amazed. It seems that I already swam on it more than him, but he more accurately determined where it was better to raft. Where there are no obstacles and pitfalls.
Jogging around the neighborhood
As the journalist notes, he was always admired and amazed by the poet's efficiency. What is worth only one of his "Anthology of Russian Poetry". This is a huge painstaking work. For many years he taught Russian poetry and cinema to American students. Who else can boast of such educational work? In addition, he was also passionate about photography, cinema.
When his film was being shot in Zima, I was constantly with him. They lasted from early morning until late at night. It was in February. In the morning the team is still sleeping, and he gets up at 6 am, puts on his sneakers and makes a circle around the Angarsky microdistrict. Always kept himself in good physical shape. He was fit, wiry, - says Nikolai Zimenkov.
Once Yevgeny Alexandrovich included his friend in one of his works - the novel "Do not die before death."
There was such an episode: in 1991 I was the executive secretary of a local newspaper. And when the putsch took place in the country, I watched it on television. I immediately placed on the front page an article where I predicted the death of the putschists. The editor saw it and removed it. Then a few days later, when everything happened as I predicted, he apologized to me. Soon after these events, Zhenya arrived, I told him this story. And he used this episode in the book. True, he wrote as if I called him in Moscow and in a thin voice (I was indignant about the tone of my voice) told him about the situation in Zima: how the Zimins perceived this event, ”Nikolai says, laughing.
"I will die of happiness that I live"
As for his personal life, Yevgeny Yevtushenko did not like to talk about it. It was a kind of taboo for him and his friends. They talked only about his creativity and work. True, he brought his fourth wife, Maria Novikova, to the "bride" in Zima. They sat in a tight circle. Only with the closest.
At first I didn’t like it, - Nikolai Vasilyevich recalls. - Constantly pulled him up in a conversation, treated everyone with caution. And I thought there was snobbery in her. And then she opened up. And my opinion about it has changed dramatically. I'll even start with the fact that it was she who managed to get him to quit smoking. He was a terrible smoker. He always brought a large suitcase with him, half of which was filled with cigarettes. Having smoked one, he took on another. And thanks to Mary, he said goodbye to a bad habit. She took care of him, took care of him.
According to Nikolai, on their last meeting, in 2015, he was stung - if this was the last tour. Yevgeny Yevtushenko underwent a complex operation, he could not completely do without outside help. This depressed and discouraged him. After all, in his life he was used to doing everything himself. Nevertheless, even in such a depressed state, he continued to work.
The news of the death of a friend Nikolai Vasilyevich came from Yevtushenko's relatives. And he took the news hard. Both countrymen and all admirers of the poet's work mourned with him.
Do you know what surprises me? At a young age, when he was not yet 30 years old, he wrote a poem that ends with these lines: "If I die in this world, I will die of happiness that I live." And it shocked me. He was happy to be in this world.
"We're few. There may be four of us…” — the sound of the 1960s. He was the last to leave this brilliant four of the 1960s, the four poets of the Luzhniki stadium, the four of the Polytechnic, the four that shook Triumphal Square with verses near Mayakovsky's bronze trousers. Robert Rozhdestvensky-Andrei Voznesensky-Bella Akhmadulina... And on April 1, 2017, Yevgeny Aleksandrovich Yevtushenko died in the USA.
The era of 100,000 copies of poetry books, the era of the "thaw", buzzing with disputes of a new generation. The era of the USSR with a 7-8-grade education (as it was in the late 1950s), desperate poverty of citizens, deterioration and disorder of space, great hopes. And the brilliant generation of "children of war" who broke into post-Stalin Russia - into physics and poetry. They sprouted everywhere - from Akademgorodok to "bulldozer exhibitions". They carried the last, still young (like themselves) hope for the embodiment of the Soviet utopia. And Yevtushenko, of course, was their voice. And I saw the country most widely in this four - with Tverskoy Boulevard, Babi Yar and the Bratsk Hydroelectric Power Station. As a whole.
It seems that his best poems were written then, in the 1960s. They whipped generously. They alone are enough to remain in Russian literature. Someday a rigorously selected (and at the same time very large!) volume of lyrics and poems will become the main memory of the poet who continued Nekrasov and Slutsky.
He dreamed of playing Cyrano. He himself was a character in the history of Russia in the twentieth century - and what. He had a brilliant knowledge of Russian poetry, and his Stanzas of the Century will remain among the best anthologies.
... About twelve years ago, he went to the editorial office of Novaya. Fit, gray-haired, in a blue jacket in a pink cage, with a ring on his finger. The conversation was brilliant. Of course, no one recorded it.
Yevgeny Alexandrovich looked in my direction and, interrupting himself, asked:
- And you, deushka, what do you like in the Silver Age?
“Varvara Malakhiev-Mirovich,” I muttered gloomily.
The ring flashed sharply. Even sharper and more precious is the eye.
- A good choice ... - and half a turn, without exhaling, he went to read the cycle "Monastic" (1915), which in those years was obtained only in the Museum of the book of the RSL. Obviously, you could call him any name ...
And then - as it should be for a Russian girl in the presence of Yevgeny Yevtushenko - I really crumbled, I died on the spot from admiration.
Novaya Gazeta commemorates Yevgeny Alexandrovich with one of his best poems of 1963.
His Russia, his note, his solo part among the people and generation.
Elena Dyakova
Evgeny Yevtushenko
"Citizens, listen to me..."
D. Updayku
I'm on the ship "Friedrich Engels"
well, in my head - such heresy,
thoughts of stowaways crush.
I don't understand - I hear something,
full of confusion and pain:
"Citizens, listen to me..."
The deck bends and groans
under the accordion deck Charlestonite,
and on the tank, subtly praying,
trying to break through wildly
songs itching start:
"Citizens, listen to me..."
There sits a soldier on a barrel container.
He bent his forelock to the guitar,
fingers confusedly wise.
He plays the guitar and harasses himself,
and painfully comes from the lips:
"Citizens, listen to me..."
Citizens do not want to listen to him.
Citizens would drink and eat,
and dance, and the rest - mura!
However, no, it is still important for them to sleep.
What he did to them inexorably:
"Citizens, listen to me..."?
Someone salts a tomato with relish,
someone slops greasy cards,
someone with boots calluses the floor,
someone at the harmonica is tearing the furs.
But how many times in any
shouted and whispered the same beginning:
"Citizens, listen to me..."
Someone sometimes did not listen to them either.
Bursting ribs and burrs,
could not express their essence.
And now, with the soul driven inside,
they do not want to hear someone else's:
"Citizens, listen to me..."
Eh, a soldier on the background of a barrel container,
I'm the same - only without the guitar ...
Through rivers, mountains and seas
I wander and stretch out my hands
and, already hoarse, I repeat:
"Citizens, listen to me..."
It's scary if they don't want to listen.
It's scary when they start listening.
Suddenly the whole song, on the whole, is shallow,
suddenly everything in it will be insignificant, except
this painful with blood:
“Citizens, listen to me…”?!
